SHK (33 page)

He pressed his hand to his chest. “My dear lady Michaella, if you just give me another chance, I will prove that I am not half the boor you think me.”

Stormy suddenly found his whole demeanor funny. Snapping her fan open, she hid behind it to hide her grin, though her eyes glittered with amusement. This might prove to be fun.

Batting her long lashes, she drawled, “So, what do you have in mind, my lord?”

“If you would give me leave to ask your father for permission, I would like to take you for a carriage ride tomorrow, show you the sights of London.”

Stormy drew her brows together, as if she was thinking very hard, but she already had a ploy in mind. Tapping one finger against her cheek, she said in a breathy voice, “You know I miss gliding upon the water in a rowboat. There are no lakes or ponds hereabouts, are there?”

Christopher perked up. “If that would appeal to you, I would gladly offer my services to row you about. One of our estates is located just outside London and boasts a very nice pond. I would love to invite you and your parents to visit, say tomorrow for high tea, and afterwards you and I could take that boat ride.”

Stormy didn’t have to ask. She knew it would be in full view of all the spectators, and that is when she would have her fun. She inclined her head. “Maybe I will forgive you after all, but let’s first ask my parents.”

Annemarie was only too happy to accept the invitation. She had heard that the duchess of Wessex had exquisite tastes and that she was fond of music boxes and had quite an array of them.

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André left his London apartments in the same slapdash manner as he arrived. “I am not sure, when I will return, Mr. Billings, but I know you and your wife do keep everything in good order. You have my appreciation.” With those parting words to the stoic butler he vaulted into Noir’s saddle and led Rebel alongside, since Stuart would not be riding him. George would have his own mount, since he intended to stay only a short time at Greenbriar.

The two friends rode hard, often lost in their private thoughts. But George Fitzsimmons needed to know more of what he was to expect.

“You said the magistrate couldn’t help you bring that man to justice. That means as your second, I shall ride to Greenbriar and extend your challenge. What if he refuses to accept your dare and comes after you with a posse of men? You did say he was a sheriff.”

André’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “I am prepared for anything when it comes to Snowden. I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned you away. After all, he is no gentleman, he is a murderer, and proud of it.”

“Where do you intend to stay in the meantime until all this is settled?”

André hadn’t thought about it. Bloody hell, there was only one place to go and that was Emerald Hills. He could hardly go back to the Hunting Lodge. Stuart told him that Snowden’s men had trashed the place. But what would he do about Stormy?

They arrived two days later at Emerald Hills, shortly after the noon meal. Young Annabelle jumped from her mare to greet André with an enthusiastic hug. “Oh, Uncle André you had us thoroughly worried. We didn’t know what to think. I know my parents will be so glad to see you.”

André hugged the girl to him, a wide smile on his handsome face. He quickly introduced George Fitzsimmons to the youngest Mowbray and then casually asked. “Did anyone else miss me?”

Annabelle blushed. “I may be the youngest, Uncle André, but I am not oblivious. I was not supposed to notice, but Stormy cried and stayed in her rooms, before they left for London.”

André wanted to grab the girl’s shoulders and shake more information out of her, instead he hugged her again and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for telling me, Annabelle. I can always count on you being my friend. Are both your parents inside?”

“Mum is at a neighbor’s, but father is in his study.” She drew away. “I am sorry, but I am late. I am going on a picnic with some friends.”

“You run along then and I hope you’ll have a fine time.” André watched Annabelle ride out of the stable, his heart in turmoil. Gad, here Stormy had been in London and he hadn’t had the slightest inkling.

Thomas frowned, when he heard the clatter of boots on the parquet flooring. Now who could that be at this time of day? The boys had gone off hunting. He grinned wryly as that thought crossed his mind. At their age you never knew anymore just what they were hunting, but Thomas would almost bet it wore skirts.

A knock on the door brought Thomas to his feet. “Enter,” he called.

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Shock, joy, consternation and surprise flitted across Thomas’s normally somber features.

“André?” And then he came around the desk and hugged his friend, clapping his back with the relief he felt, before the anger set in.

“Where the bloody hell have you been keeping yourself? Didn’t it occur to you to send word that you are alive? Once we realized you had gone off alone and you didn’t return, we thought the worst had happened to you. My brother was thoroughly annoyed, because he apparently had become privy to the fact that Stormy had more than a passing fancy for you.”

André’s heart did a somersault at that admission, but he knew good manners dictated that he’d introduce his friend before he would be able to ask for more information.

“Meet Sir George Fitzsimmons, Thomas. He and I go back a long way. He came along to act as my second, and I hope we can count on your hospitality until matters at Greenbriar are settled.”

The two men shook hands, before Thomas offered him and André seats and a glass of brandy.

“So, please start at the beginning. I’ve gotten lost along the way. What is that nonsense about a second?”

André took a gulp of his brandy. He sighed his pleasure once the liquor made its way down his stomach. “The night I sneaked out of here, I met Stuart in the copse. We rode to Greenbriar. Stuart had been spying on Snowden all day and he knew he was out of the house.

He stood guard, while I entered through the study and went straight to the fireplace. Aunt Victoria once told me that she had a secret hiding place there.

“I found the original will, which included a postscript telling that she feared for her life and that Snowden forced her to write the estate over to him. You know he boasted that he had killed her and Squire Masterson, but to read it in so many words struck me like a punch to the gut. I was still in the process of checking the documents, when Snowden arrived unexpectedly.

Of course, I knew he’d found the passage behind the bookshelves, since I had heard of his injury, but at that moment it was my only way to escape.”

André laughed without humor and quickly explained to George how he had left the cad a well-placed pitchfork at the end of the slide leading down to the cellar. “He impaled himself on it the first time he pursued me. However, I doubted he had found the way upstairs through a hidden door via that same passage.

“To make a long story short, I did escape thanks to Stuart and we plunged into the concealing shrub with Snowden hot on our heels. I am not sure when he gave up his pursuit, but we had the advantage, since we knew the woods like the backs of our hands.

“We rode non-stop that first night and then went on to London. The magistrate apparently can settle the dispute over the ownership of Greenbriar, but he feels I don’t have enough evidence against Snowden to see him hanged. So I am going to take matter into my own hands.”

“What if he refuses to rise to your challenge? He is no gentleman.”

“I’ve considered that possibility, but I haven’t come up with a feasible plan.”

Thomas plunked down on a nearby sofa, using his tumbler of brandy like a pointer.

“Since you have legitimate documents to prove your ownership, you could simply evict him. If he refuses to vacate the premises, you have every right to use force.”

“So what you are suggesting is that George and I ride to Greenbriar armed and ready to fight?”

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“You don’t have to stand alone, my friend. My sons and I will come along. After all, we know that Snowden surrounds himself with several henchmen and none of them would want to leave the easy life of Greenbriar.”

“I can’t allow you to risk your life, Thomas, and especially not that of your sons. I don’t even want George involved in this fray.”

Thomas jumped from his seat, his face flushed. “Quit being noble, André. The man usurped what’s rightfully yours. He is out to kill you and admits he has killed at least two people already. What more do you need?”

* * * *

After a quick repast for André and George, the five men set out for Greenbriar. They reined in their horses within view of the front entrance to the mansion.

“I suggest George rides ahead to drop the glove in front of Snowden’s feet. Hopefully the cad understands that it is as much a challenge as slapping it across his face.” Thomas sneered at the image of that.

They watched anxiously as George approached the house. He stood undecided for several moments, expecting someone to rush up to take his mount, but when no one appeared, he looped the reins around the horse’s pommel and walked up the broad steps.

“Why are they letting him cool his heels like that? Surely, Cecil hasn’t gone deaf in the meantime and the knocker is quite loud. Something is amiss. We need to ride up and check it out.” Andre spurred Noir forward and Thomas and his sons followed without hesitation.

George walked down a couple of steps as the men approached. “The place seems deserted, but I didn’t want to go inside alone, considering the circumstances.”

André pushed past him and tried the knob of the front door. It opened easily. He waved his hand for the rest of them to follow. Weapons drawn the five men stepped inside. The air in the foyer smelled stale and dust had settled in places thick enough to be noticed.

“The place looks abandoned.” André whispered, his eyes scanning the large hall in case Snowden waited for them in ambush.

“It’s more than abandoned, André. It’s been ransacked.” Thomas had sidestepped into the front parlor and gaped at the empty spaces on the wall, where once costly oil paintings hung.

Chairs and crystal apparently had been smashed in a fit of rage. “I doubt anyone is here. Let’s fan out and search the rest of the house.”

Thomas and the boys took the staircase two steps at a time, their weapons at the ready, while André and George made their way through the first floor. They found two of the kitchen maids cowering in the pantry, trembling with fear of retribution.

“We didn’t know what to do, Master André. Sheriff Snowden came in one morning and started to smash furniture and crystal, cursing his bad luck. Maggie and me hid in here. We’ve stayed on, because we has no place else to go.”

André raked his fingers through his hair. “Do you have any idea where Sheriff Snowden went after he left here?”

They both shook their heads, their eyes wide with fear. “He took the carriage and a wagon. They were piled high with paintings and silver, and he cleared out the pantry as well.

Mister Cecil went with him, though we don’t know if he had a choice. Sheriff was so mad. He mumbled about revenge.”

Thomas and the boys joined them moments later. “The upstairs looks hardly any better than down here, but nothing that can’t be set to rights with a bit of hard work.”

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Before he turned away, André asked the maids if there was enough to eat for them.

Again they nodded. “We have the chickens, and Maggie and me have lived off the eggs and vegetables in the garden. We knew you’d come back.” Her eyes brightened with unshed tears.

André managed an encouraging smile. “We’ll go to the village in the morning and stock up on staples. In the meantime, I expect you to start cleaning the rooms. I would like to come back tomorrow and spend the night under my own roof again.”

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Unable to sleep, André took advantage of knowing about Thomas’ habits of returning to the study during the wee hours of the night. He knocked and walked in.

“I hope I am not disturbing you at work, but I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about Snowden. I can’t figure it out how he knew that I was in the study? When I heard his approaching footsteps, I had to hurry. I keep wondering, if I left some clues behind, and whether it tipped him off that I found something important that night. Why else would he leave and take half my possessions with him? He felt secure about his scam. But why would he take the butler, along?”

“I wish I could help you find the answers, but I am as stumped as you. Maybe they were in cahoots together. To get to your aunt, he might have enlisted Cecil’s help. Maybe he left England. I bet he is set financially, and it wouldn’t surprise me, if he hadn’t made a living of duping helpless old widows.”

“Your suppositions don’t do me much good. The bastard needs to be brought to justice.

He represents a threat to me and what is mine as long as he lives.” He shoved a hand through his tousled hair. A lopsided grin lifted the corner of his sculpted mouth. “I guess I might as well come clean. I am in love with your niece Stormy. I came to offer her marriage, if she’d have me. I really don’t want to ask until I can be sure that she’ll be safe, but as long as Snowden remains on the loose that is impossible.”

Thomas kicked back in his chair and put his feet on his desk. “For a man who has played the field with the ladies, your admission comes as a total surprise. Well, not really. You’ve been wearing your heart on your sleeve ever since the day you walked into the parlor.”

Thomas chuckled at André’s stunned expression. “You lost your swagger there for a moment, when you first clapped eyes on Stormy. I think Trevor noticed it before anyone else did, and I can tell you, he didn’t like it one bit. Guess we males can tell the hunter, when we see him, and if they show any interest in our daughters—well, that is a whole different animal.” He guffawed, but quickly stifled his glee, lest he’d wake someone.