Eloisa's Adventure (17 page)

Their
steps were hurried as they made their way inside. Eloisa couldn’t
resist a wary glance up at the roof as she stepped through the door
and shivered with relief when she was able to close the door on the
sight of the debris.

“There
are plenty of logs in the study. Let’s go and get the fire lit,
then I will go and fetch those baskets of food.”

“I can
light the fire,” Eloisa offered as she hurried toward the
hearth.

“We are
staying together now, Eloisa,” Simeon declared quietly. “From now
on, the only time we are going to be apart is when we use the
retiring screens.”

Eloisa
froze.

“What?”
he asked when he saw the stunned disbelief on her face. “Eloisa?
What is it?”

Eloisa’s
stomach dropped to her toes. She wasn’t aware of the spill dropping
out of her limp hold. Her attention was firmly focused on the huge
portrait sitting high on the wall directly above the
mantle.

“Eloisa?
What is it?” He followed her gaze to see what she was looking at.
“Is it the portrait of my uncle? What about it?”

She
jerked suddenly and looked at him with slightly dazed eyes. “The
man was your uncle,” she whispered.

Simeon
looked at her then turned to look at the portrait of his deceased
relative. “It can’t be. I was at his funeral. He was buried weeks
ago. His coffin was placed in the family crypt last
month.”

Eloisa
studied the bushy beard that was so hauntingly similar to the man’s
last night. “The man last night had a beard, but it was a darker
grey; not white like that one. He had a hat on, but those eyes,”
she whispered. “I will never forget those eyes. They were wide, but
then narrowed until they were just like his.”

“Sweetheart, Uncle George is dead. I promise you that he is,”
Simeon sighed.

“It’s
him, I tell you,” she declared firmly. “That man is haunting this
house.”

Simeon
turned to look at the portrait, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t
believe in ghosts, never had, and never would.

Eloisa
wasn’t about to be contradicted though. She knew what she had seen
and was adamant that the man who had been standing over her bed
last night had been George Calversham.

“If it
isn’t him, then it is someone who looks like him,” she mused
thoughtfully.

Simeon
turned to look at her with a frown before he studied the portrait
once more.

“Just
come with me a moment,” he murmured quietly. When she didn’t
immediately move to follow him, he took hold of her hand in his and
tugged her toward the door.

She
followed him reluctantly into the room directly opposite. When they
entered it, Simeon’s curse was bitter.

“What is
it?”

He
studied the space on the wall where Renwick’s portrait had once
stood. “Some of the portraits are missing.”

“What
was there?” She studied the room. At first glance it appeared to be
untouched. It was only when she studied the top of the cabinet
against the wall that she noticed the displaced dust. Someone had
recently removed a vase or ornament of some kind.

“A
family portrait of George’s son, Renwick, used to sit in that
spot.” He pointed to a dark patch on the far wall.

“Your
cousin.”

He knew
what she was thinking and shook his head. “The British Army don’t
make mistakes like that. Renwick was killed in battle a few years
ago.”

She
wanted to clutch at her hair with frustration. Unless they could
actually catch the thief, they had no way of knowing who he was,
and why he was here. She remained quiet and watched Simeon pace
around the room studying the floor and walls.

“What
are you thinking?” she asked softly as she caught up with
him.

“That I
am hungry and need something to eat,” he replied with a soft smile.
It was ridiculous to think that either Renwick or George were still
alive, but couldn’t ignore the similarities she had just
mentioned.

Eloisa
nodded and followed toward the hallway. As she closed the door
behind her, she couldn’t resist one last glance back into the room.
On the surface, everything appeared to be fine.

Why
then, did she feel as though they had just been watched?

They ate
in companionable silence in his bedroom. She popped the last of her
bread into her mouth and sat back to savour the fire while Simeon
finished his meal.

“You
need to get out of that dress,” Simeon growled as he studied the
rainwater that dripped steadily off the sodden material. He was
starting to hate the ridiculously wide skirts and tiny buttons
everywhere. Although the colour matched Eloisa’s beautiful eyes to
perfection, the blue-tinged lips, and her relentless shivers warned
him that she was going to be ill if she remained in it much
longer.

He
stood, yanked a blanket off the bed and handed it to her as he
nodded toward the retiring screen. “Wrap yourself in this. We can
hang your dress up. It shouldn’t take too long to dry.”

Eloisa
studied the blanket. It felt odd to consider undressing with Simeon
nearby, but he had already seen her soaking wet. What would it
matter if she was wrapped in a blanket?

She took
it off him and quickly removed her dress. She didn’t realise how
cold it was making her until the cold material slithered off her
skin and she was wrapped in the thick, woollen material. It felt
luxurious to be able to get warm again. She snuggled down into its
voluminous folds with a sight of delight.

“Give me
your dress,” Simeon called from the other side of the
screen.

She eyed
the dress balefully and tentatively picked its sodden weight off
the floor. She doubted it would be possible to get it dry at all
but tossed it over as instructed anyway. Once she had taken a few
moments to preserve her dignity, she emerged from behind the
screen.

“I’ll
put it over here, like this,” he said as he dragged a
spindle-backed chair toward the fire and draped the dress over the
back of it. “If we keep the fire going, it should dry out -
eventually.”

He eyed
the blanket as it trailed on the floor behind her and shook his
head. She was not going to be able to move anywhere around the
house dressed like that, but there really was nothing else they
could do.

“Would
your uncle have possibly kept some of your aunt’s old clothing?”
she asked hopefully.

At home,
there were boxes and boxes of her and Cissy’s old clothing stashed
in the attics. Would George have done the same with his wife’s
considerably more expensive clothing?

“Probably,” Simeon replied with a grin. “But her old dresses
have more material on them than that blanket. She was a rather
generously curved woman,” he assured her politely.

Eloisa’s
lips twitched and she nodded in silent understanding.

“What do
you want to do now?” she asked as she took a seat by the fire and
watched one of the tiny rosebuds that had adorned her hair tumble
across the floor.

It was a
good thing there wasn’t a mirror in the room. She was certain that
she must look a fright. The ringlets Cissy had so carefully ironed
in had long since turned into a wild tangle that would take forever
to brush out. Now, being dressed from head to foot in a shroud of
her blanket had stolen what was left of her dignity, but it didn’t
seem to matter to Simeon, who appeared completely oblivious to her
semi-clad state.

Simeon
tried to keep his attention off how delectable she looked bathed in
firelight. He ached to be able to touch her, especially after what
they had shared outside. The sensual tension from their kisses was
still shimmering between them, just waiting to be unleashed. He
coughed and shifted uncomfortably when his body began to respond.
Carefully keeping his eyes averted from the generous expanse of
flesh the blanket revealed, he forced himself to turn his attention
to the problem of finding the intruder.

“I need
to see if I can get that secret door open in your old bedroom,”
Simeon replied carefully.

“What
then?” She challenged. “What if you manage to find a way in?”
Strangely, she knew what he was going to say before he said it. The
grin that stole over his face confirmed as such.

“I am
going to find out where those passageways lead me.” All trace of
enthusiasm vanished from his eyes when she rolled her eyes.
“Eloisa, I need to know which rooms are safe for us to stay in and
which aren’t. I think he is using the passageways to watch us and
listen to our conversations.”

“What if
you find him?” Eloisa whispered, aware that anybody could be
listening to them now. She leaned forward in her seat when Simeon
braced his forearms on his knees and lowered his voice
conspiratorially.

The
gentleman in him demanded that he keep his gaze firmly away from
the hollow between her luscious breasts, but his gaze lingered
hungrily there anyway. Temptation was going to drive him insane if
they had to remain in the house for much longer. In this bedroom,
she was more at risk from him than she was the intruder.

“I will
know who I am dealing with then, won’t I?”

“What do
you intend to do when you discover who he is?” She hated to think
of a confrontation, but it seemed inevitable given the things the
man had done to make his unseen presence felt.

“I am
going to make sure he is arrested for breaking and entering, and
theft,” Simeon growled. “There are several very expensive items
missing from the house. A number of portraits, items of silverware,
and numerous expensive items that have been in the family for a
very long time, have been removed from several of the rooms.”
Simeon wondered if he would ever know the true extent of the thefts
given that he had no idea what had been in the house when his uncle
had been alive. Unless the entire horde was hidden in a secret room
he didn’t know about he had to declare them as lost
forever.

“Come
on,” Simeon said after several moments of silence. He walked toward
the door, leaving Eloisa to follow in her own time.

“Where
are we going?”

“To
check the passageway.”

Eloisa
stopped in the doorway watched him stalk across the hallway to her
old room. When he vanished into the room, she realised that she was
alone, and hurried after him.

CHAPTER
TEN

He
tapped the wall and found one hollow spot, but couldn’t find the
door to gain access. It was the most annoying thing he had
encountered in a long time.

“Maybe
there is a more obvious entrance point is in the study somewhere,”
she suggested with a frown. “I mean, it seems likely that the
master of the house would be the one who might need to use the
passageways more than anyone else.”

Simeon
considered that carefully and conceded that she might be
right.

“Let’s
take a look.” At the door, he stood back to let her precede him
only for her to head toward the bedroom opposite. “Where are you
going?”

“To put
my dress back on,” she replied quietly. Thankfully, because the
material was thin it was already dry. Once she had it back on, she
realised just how ridiculous it was to have to wear something so
flouncy for any occasion, even a ball. She felt weighed down by the
voluminous folds of silk and lace that immediately clung to her
ankles. She heaved a sigh and glared at it in disgust.

“Take it
off again,” Simeon ordered when he saw her face.

“I need
to wear something a bit more practical than a blanket,” Eloisa
argued.

“That is
hardly practical, my dear. You can’t wear it for your next ball
now. It is ruined. Let me take out some of the underskirts. It will
at least be a little easier to walk around then.” He didn’t say as
much but he would be glad when the bloody thing was confined to the
fire and he didn’t have to look at it again.

Eloisa
thought about that for a few seconds, then disappeared back beyond
the retiring screen.

“Throw
it over the top,” he called when she didn’t reappear.

Eloisa
gasped and stared blankly at the screen as she tossed her dress
over the top. She felt a little scandalous wearing nothing but her
undergarments with Simeon so close. The sound of tearing fabric
made her wince, but she knew he was right to suggest what he
had.

Cold
eventually began to make her shiver, to the point that she was
physically shaking by the time he tossed the dress back toward her.
When she put it back on, she stared down at herself again and
heaved a sigh of relief. Although the dress had far more folds in
it than necessary, it felt wonderful to be back to her normal size.
Thankfully, Simeon had taken some material off the bottom of her
outer skirts too, so she was able to walk around without falling
over yards of silk. For the first time since she had left home she
was starting to feel somewhat normal again.

“Thank
you,” she said quietly as she walked toward him.