Scoundrel (17 page)

A sound in the hallway reminded her that Remmington could appear at any moment. She slammed the compartment shut and climbed down, then pushed the chair away from the shelves. It wasn’t until she hurried to the center of the room to stand amidst more innocent-looking books that she realized she still held the message in her hand. She lifted her skirts and tucked the message into her garter, then quickly picked up a stack of books. In that same moment, the library door crashed open and Remmington appeared in the doorway.

Still barefoot and tucking the ends of his shirt into his pants, Remmington froze in the doorway at the sight that greeted him. Any feelings of guilt that lingered from the night before evaporated. His neat, orderly library looked suspiciously like the library at Crofford House. Books were piled everywhere, dozens upon dozens of them. Much of the furniture and most of the carpet in front of the bookcases had disappeared beneath the stacked and scattered volumes. His gaze flew to the corner of the bookcases and he breathed a sigh of relief. The false spines that concealed the hidden recess were undisturbed.

Lily turned to greet him, her arms loaded down with books. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

He watched her eyes widen when she took in his attire. His shirt was open to the waist, but he resisted the urge to check the fastenings of his pants to make certain he’d done them up correctly. He felt half asleep, fully hung over, and furious to be waking up to this mess. Quite the opposite, Lily appeared the picture of prim innocence in a cream-colored gown. She looked refreshed and disgustingly healthy. Even her voice sounded better. Thank God, she wasn’t smiling. A cheerful smile at that moment would send him over the edge.

“Would you care to explain?”

“Explain what?” she asked.

His hand swept out to encompass the room. “Explain the fact that you somehow managed to decimate my library in little more than an hour. Explain how you are bold enough to be here in the first place, when I gave specific orders that this room was not for your use.”

Lily lowered her chin. She appeared almost repentant, or perhaps guilty. “You don’t have to shout, Your Grace. My hearing is quite good.”

“I’m not—” Remmington took a deep breath, unable to remember the last time he’d raised his voice to a woman, or for that matter, the last time anyone had defied him so openly. He lowered his voice to a more reasonable volume. “You will replace every one of those volumes in their proper places, and you will do so at once.”

“Hm. Replace them.” She glanced uncertainly around the room. “I’m afraid that would rather defeat the purpose. I was searching for a particular volume, and I’m quite certain I would lose track of my place if I started putting books away before I found it. Yesterday I was certain I saw one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels in your collection, but now I cannot seem to locate it.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you’ve ravaged an entire library to find one book?”

“You are shouting again, Your Grace.”

“I’ll damn well shout in my own house if I want to!” He lowered his voice anyway. “First of all, you may rest assured that I would not have one of that woman’s books in my house. Second, if you were intent on a specific book, you should have asked Digsby to retrieve it for you. Third, you have no business in this room unless you are invited into it by myself. After today’s fiasco, I doubt you will see the inside of this room again for the duration of your stay.”

He slammed the library door shut. A moment later he stalked over to his desk, sat in his chair, and folded his arms across his chest in one harsh, abrupt movement. “Now, you will replace every single book in its proper place. I don’t care if it takes the rest of the day.”

“I think you’re being very unreasonable about this.”

“Unreasonable would be locking you in your room for the remainder of your stay, which I’m still considering. Taking those books that are in your arms and putting them back on the shelves will start swaying my opinions in a direction you might find more favorable.”

She raised her chin a degree and glared right back at him. “Well. If this is an example of your hospitality, I’m afraid I will be leaving immediately. If you will be so good as to arrange for a hired hack, my maid and I will secure a room at the Two Swans and leave for
Brighton
first thing tomorrow morning.” She placed the books she held on a nearby table, then crossed her arms. “Considering your ugly threats and vulgar language, I’m afraid I simply must insist on the matter. You may inform Digsby that Gretchen will have my trunk packed within the hour.”

Remmington directed his scowl at the top of his desk. He couldn’t look at her. The urge to cross the room, to take her shoulders in his hands and shake her senseless was too strong. No, he’d have to shake sense
into
her. Her outrageous orders and demands, heaped on top of his anger, said she had no sense at all. Not one bit.

He glanced around the chaotic room and it suddenly occurred to him that no one in their right mind would search for a book in such a fashion. And now that he thought about it, she’d turned their argument to the subject of her departure rather neatly. His gaze snapped back to her face, certain he saw her flinch.

“Well?” she asked haughtily.

He propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and rested his hands in his lap. “I thought you didn’t like to read.”

“I said no such thing. As I recall, I told you that I am not a particularly fast reader, but I do enjoy the pastime. It seemed an enjoyable diversion and I simply came here in search of a book, unaware that I would be shouted and sworn at in such a shocking fashion.” Her gaze slid toward the library door. “If you won’t allow your servants to assist us from the house, we will manage on our own.”

“You won’t be leaving quite yet.”

She took a step toward the library door. “I cannot abide threats, my lord. Now, if you will excuse me—”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a key, then dangled it from two fingers. “I took the liberty of locking the door. I suspected you might be reluctant to stay here until you’d righted this mess. It seems my suspicions were correct.”

Her mouth opened, closed abruptly, then opened again, but no words emerged. Remmington smiled and replaced the key in his pocket. He nodded toward a pile of books. “I hope you didn’t make this mess on purpose, to revive your pointless argument about leaving. If so, you will have ample opportunity to think over the wisdom of such plottings while you reshelve everything.”

“Another one of my plots, my lord? I should have known you would accuse me of doing this deliberately.”

“Are you telling me that you are not the one who made this mess?”

“I was searching for a book!”

“I see.”

She planted her hands on her hips, one brow arched over a rather pretty scowl. “Are you calling me a liar?” Rather than give him a chance to answer, she walked over to the door and began to pound on the solid wood while she muttered under her breath. “Sworn and shouted at, and now called a liar. I shall not stay here another moment.”

“Digsby?” she asked the door, then in a much louder voice, “Digsby, I know you’re out there. You will open this door immediately!”

“He won’t let you out, you know.” Remmington leaned back in his chair and propped his hands behind his head. “I would suggest you start with the red books. They belong on the bottom shelves.”

“Digsby! There’s been an accident! Remmington tripped and fell, and he’s badly hurt. Please open the door!”

“I’m fine, Digsby,” he called out. He shook his finger at Lily when she turned to glare at him. His brows furrowed together into a mocking scowl. “I say. That was rather clever.”

Her back sagged against the door and she spoke calmly, but the edge of fear in her eyes disturbed him. He looked lower and saw how badly her hands shook.

“I have to leave, Remmington. Now. This moment.”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said quietly. “And it is not some monstrous quirk in my personality that makes me insist that you stay in this house. You know the reasons well enough, and they have not changed in the past hour. Perhaps you should sit down for a moment and calm yourself.”

“I do not need to calm myself!” Lily pushed away from the door and seated herself on the low couch anyway. With her hands folded neatly in her lap, she stared straight ahead. “If you are determined to have me replace the books, then I will.” She stood up again and loaded her arms with a nearby stack of books. Her movements looked jittery. With her back to him, she began to walk toward the bookcases. “And I do think it is a monstrous quirk in your personality that makes you subject me to this childish punishment.”

She was nervous about something. One of the books she held tumbled to the floor and she made a hasty grab for it as she glanced at him over one shoulder. Their eyes met for no more than a moment, but what he saw there astounded him. She was afraid of him. He tried to think why. What had he done last night to frighten her so badly? He’d asked her to bring their kisses to a halt, and instead she’d encouraged him. Then she’d asked him to leave, and he’d left. Did she expect him to fall on her like some lust-crazed beast at this late date?

He thought to question her, but there was a soft knock at the library door before he could think of a civil way to ask her opinion of him. Lily started at the sound and dropped the books in her arms. He frowned over her bizarre behavior, then went to unlock the library door.

Digsby appeared on the other side. He held a small silver tray and an envelope rested in the center. “This message just arrived, Your Grace. The man who delivered it expressed a sense of urgency.”

Remmington took the envelope and broke the seal, then hastily scanned the contents. He stuffed the note into his pocket. “You will remain posted inside this door until Lady Lillian returns the library to the order she found it in this morning. She is not to leave this room until that time.” To Lily, he said, “I have to leave for a few hours. We will continue this discussion when I return.”

Digsby closed the door behind Remmington. Without a word to Lily, he turned around, clasped his hands behind his back, and stared straight ahead. Lily returned to her chore with a sigh of relief. It had taken every ounce of courage she possessed to stand up to Remmington, to act as if she knew nothing about the secret compartment.

Trust no one
. A few days ago, the warning in her father’s message seemed unnecessary. Now it took on new meaning. Did he know something about Remmington that she did not? Why would he insist that she stay here if he had any doubts about Remmington’s loyalty? It made no sense. That Remmington would turn traitor made even less sense. Still, she couldn’t deny the evidence. Over the past few months, her father had translated several messages in this code. Even the handwriting looked the same.

Remmington might work for Sir Malcolm, she thought hopefully. That hope slipped away in a matter of moments. If that was the case, her father wouldn’t send a coded message to tell her that Remmington knew nothing, that she shouldn’t trust him. He must be working with the enemy. Every instinct told her it couldn’t be true, yet those same instincts warned her to get as far from him as possible.

Her gaze traveled to one of the windows. If she could convince Digsby to leave her alone in the library, she might be able to escape through a window. The library was on the first floor. The drop from the ledge to the ground below couldn’t be terribly far.

When she was certain Remmington had left the house, she turned her attention to Digsby. “You needn’t remain here. Rest assured that I can accomplish this task unsupervised.”

The remark met with silence. She was about to suggest more useful endeavors for Digsby’s valuable time when she heard a stranger’s deep voice in the hallway outside the library.

“Hullo? Remmington!” The sound drew closer, and several other men apparently joined the first. All spoke in loud voices, then the first voice called out again. “I say, man. Where are you?”

Lily’s gaze met Digsby’s. She was certain her expression reflected the same look of trapped panic. He backed up against the library door and held one finger to his lips, then motioned her toward the wall behind the door. When she obeyed the unspoken command, he opened the door a crack and tried to step outside. Three men pushed their way into the room at the same time.

A dark-haired man strode toward the desk as he called to Digsby over one shoulder. “I say, Digsby. You look a fright. Engaging in the pugilistic arts again?” His startled gaze took in the library’s disarray. “Good Lord! What happened here?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but began to fill three glasses with brandy as his friends seated themselves on a nearby couch. All three were dressed in riding garb, and they appeared to be in their middle twenties. Two of the men had light complexions and sandy brown hair. The third was taller than his companions, with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes that matched his jacket. His deeply tanned features were remarkably similar to Remmington’s.

“We’re on our way to Hyde,” the dark-haired man continued, his attention on the brandy glasses. “Thought we’d stop by to persuade Remmington to ride with us. It’s unhealthy to pour over accounts and business papers every morning when there are finer pursuits afoot. Thought sure we’d find him here. Is he out, then?”

Digsby remained silent and the young man finally glanced up. His mouth dropped open in surprise. “I say. Lady Lillian! Whatever are you doing here?”