Wicked Earl Seeks Proper Heiress (The Husband Hunters Club #5)

Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

A veril thought the castle was like something out of a nursery tale; it was easy to imagine fairies hiding in the trees and elves rustling through the grass. She could hear the others oohing and awing around her, except Eustace, who was looking smug, and Hercules, who really couldn’t wait to get out of the coach.

The round towers on either side of the gate reached up into the clouds and there were so many windows she couldn’t guess at the number of rooms. It was a sunny day and the pale color of the bricks seemed to glow in the sun, giving the building an otherworldly appearance.

The castle really was breathtakingly beautiful, and at first she didn’t notice the imperfections. It took Beth’s more practical turn of mind for that, and soon she was pointing out that one of the turrets looked as if it was crumbling, and the park was neglected, while the castle garden was very overgrown. Averil had heard all about the garden and she could see Beth was openly disappointed to see it in such a wretched state. Clearly gardening was not on the earl’s list of priorities.

“I wonder when the castle was built?” she said.

Eustace cleared his throat importantly, and then proceeded to tell them that the castle was a mixture of twelfth-century fortifications with later additions over the centuries. Battles between barons and civil wars had seen the castle damaged but never completely destroyed and the Southbrook family had always been able to repair and continue on.

Despite the shortcomings, Averil was entranced and as soon as Rufus appeared in the coach doorway to hand her down, she beamed at him. “What a marvelous home you have, Lord Southbrook,” she gushed, grasping his hand in hers.

He smiled back and squeezed her fingers before releasing them. “Southbrook Castle has been in my family for generations, and I can’t imagine living anywhere else.” He leaned closer and murmured in her ear, “I’m looking forward to showing you my home, Averil.”

She had been thinking a great deal about that, too, but Beth came over to her side before she could reply. Averil looked up at the towers, shading her eyes. She felt dizzy with the prospect of spending time alone with Rufus in this magical place, and tried to pull herself together and remind herself that she was actually here on business. But it was difficult to be pragmatic when he was there beside her, his dark hair windblown, his tanned skin flushed, and his dark eyes gleaming down into hers in the most compelling way.

The entrance to the castle was by a stone staircase with two savage-looking griffins, one on either side. The door was solid oak and opened to reveal a stone floor, worn in places by centuries of Southbrook feet. A huge staircase with delicately carved railings rose upward to a gallery, and coming down to greet them was the Honorable James Blainey.

“Here you are!” he cried, his voice echoing all the way up to the vaulted ceiling above. “Welcome! Welcome to Southbrook Castle!”

Servants were pouring out of the castle to see to their luggage, and James showed his guests into a large room overlooking the overgrown garden, where he said he’d arranged for them to take refreshments before they were shown to their rooms.

“You are all situated in the east part of the castle,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I thought that would be more convenient.”

“Surely you don’t use all of the rooms?” Beth declared, looking flushed and slightly overwhelmed.

“Well”— James glanced at his nephew, who had come in from outside and was being helped off with his coat by a young man who seemed to be having difficulty—“eh, no, we keep many of them closed up. There aren’t enough Southbrooks to fill the castle anymore, are there, Rufus?”

Rufus was finally free of his coat, and gave his uncle an old-fashioned look. “Quite so. Where is Great-Aunt Mildred?”

“Resting in her room. She gets very tired and the journey was rather . . . eh, well, never mind that. You’ll all meet her at dinner.”

Hercules decided at that moment to leap up onto a chintz-covered sofa, and Eustace and Violet hurriedly pulled him off. “I think he needs a run in the park,” Eustace said, with a cautious sideways glance at his father.

“Maybe you should both go for a run,” Rufus said dryly, but he smiled at his son in a way that made Averil aware—if she wasn’t already—of how fond he was of the boy. This was no harsh and distant father, as her own had been. Rufus was a good man. She was beginning to wonder just how he had ever been given the sobriquet of “wicked earl.”

“Will you come with me, Violet?” Eustace and Violet had become firm friends on the journey.

Violet seemed more than happy to agree, and they set off together. Averil could hear them laughing as they slipped outside the grand door and into the fresh air. Soon she was wishing she had gone with them, because the servants who brought in the food seemed remarkably uncertain of the duties required of them. Several times two servants reached for the same plate or cup at the same time, and nearly upset it. One of them dropped some sandwiches on the floor and would have retrieved them and served them as if nothing had happened, if James hadn’t grimaced and waved them away.

Someone had been very lax in the training of the castle staff, but Averil didn’t feel it was her place to say so and, glancing at Beth, saw that she, too, had noticed and was frowning, not knowing what to make of it.

“We will go and look at the empty house tomorrow morning,” Rufus was saying, and bit into a slice of what appeared to be seed cake. His face seemed to freeze for a long moment, and then he forced himself to relax and swallow. His dark eyes shifted to James, seated beside Beth on the sofa, and narrowed ominously.

“Have you found us a new cook, Uncle James?” he enquired silkily.

James looked up but wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Eh, yes. I’m afraid she isn’t French, nephew, but she is willing to try her hand at anything.”

“Perhaps it would be best if she doesn’t try her hand at the seed cake again.”

Just then there was a clatter of feet, and paws, and Hercules came bounding back into the room. Averil caught him as he went past, saving the tea things from a terrible accident.

“Douglas is here!” Eustace cried, and he and Violet came into the room, both flushed, with a huge man of about forty years, with red hair and a craggy face following them. He was using a cane and had a decided limp.

Rufus rose to take the man’s hand, introducing him as Douglas McInnes, his land agent. “Douglas looks after the estate for me.”

“How do you do, Mr. McInnes?” Averil smiled.

“I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance,” Douglas said. “I happened upon your dog in the park and thought it was an escapee from a circus, but Eustace assures me it is tame.”

Averil laughed. “Almost. Although I’m not sure Lord Southbrook agrees.”

Douglas shot his employer an amused glance. “Lord Southbrook prefers horses. But he’s a fine fellow, aren’t you . . . Hercules, is it?”

Eustace came to stand by the animal, already looking like a proud owner. “Averil saved him, you know. He was skin and bone when she brought him home, and now look at him.”

“Indeed!” Douglas agreed. His gaze drifted toward Violet, and Averil could see the girl was trying not to notice. “Miss Pinnock here tells me you had a safe journey from London. I was telling her I rarely go to the city and I’m not sorry. I prefer the countryside.”

“Fancy not liking London,” Violet said, but she smiled at him kindly when she said it.

For a moment Douglas McInnes seemed to be lost in her pale blue eyes, and then he pulled himself together and began to ask when it would be suitable for them all to see the property. Averil and Beth exchanged a glance. What was it about Violet that appealed to men of Gareth’s and Douglas McInnes’s age?

“We thought tomorrow,” Rufus said. “Are you sure you can manage it with that leg?”

“I’ll manage,” Douglas said, with another glance in Violet’s direction, which she was too busy with Hercules to notice.

After his land agent had gone—but not before managing to wangle himself an invitation to dinner—Rufus instructed one of the servants to show the women to their rooms in the east tower, and they set off up the staircase. It was rather a trek, through a long gallery with gold- framed portraits of Southbrooks, stretching back generations, down more stairs, sometimes just one step, and past many closed doors. The castle was enormous, as Beth kept commenting in hushed tones. Violet seemed unable to say anything, simply gazing about her with wide eyes.

Finally they reached their rooms.

Averil’s room was dazzlingly bright after the dim hall-way. There were two ornate arched windows overlooking the wild garden and the room itself was surprisingly feminine, with white lace curtains and a matching bedcover. Beth had a room down the corridor and Violet’s was up some curling stairs in the tower itself.

The girl’s eyes widened when she saw it. “I feel like a princess,” she whispered, turning to gaze out of the windows that surrounded her in the circular room.

They all retired to their rooms for a rest before dinner. Averil was too excited to lie down and sat on the little window seat overlooking the garden. A hare with the longest ears she’d ever seen ran through the long grass, making her smile. The garden was clearly not a priority for Lord Southbrook, but the interior of the castle seemed well cared for and there were plenty of staff— although they seemed oddly awkward in performing their duties, as if they weren’t used to guests. Perhaps it was just that Lord Southbrook did not entertain very often.

Well, Averil told herself, it was none of her business. Besides, they wouldn’t be staying long. She sighed. Perhaps she could visit again? And then she remembered that if they took up the earl’s offer of the house she would be visiting here quite a lot. They would be neighbors.

Her thoughts went off in a new direction, imagining her calling on him and him calling on her. Imagining kisses in the wild garden, or secret meetings in the park. Time flew past and it was almost the hour for dinner when Beth knocked on the door and stepped inside the room. She was wearing a new dress of gray silk with cream lace trimmings, and her hair was coiled neatly at her nape with a few feathery curls brushing her temples.

“You’re not dressed,” she scolded, before Averil could tell her how well she looked. “What have you been doing?”

“I’ve been thinking about the Home,” Averil said, avoiding her companion’s suspicious gaze. It wouldn’t do for Beth to know she’d been ruminating over Rufus all this time.

There was a delicate porcelain bowl with a matching jug full of water on the dressing table and Averil washed while Beth laid her clothes out on the bed. No maids had come to assist, so Beth helped her dress, lacing up her stays and helping her into her evening dress. The soft mint green was just right with Averil’s pale complexion and gray eyes, and it clung perfectly to her curves. The neckline was revealing without being overly so and the dress had puffed sleeves that almost reached her elbows. Her hair was pinned up and hopefully would stay in place long enough for her to complete dinner, and she wore her mother’s locket around her neck.

Averil examined herself critically in the full- length mirror and was pleased—she knew she wanted Rufus to admire her. She wanted his dark eyes to gleam when he saw her; she wanted to see the forbidden promises in the curve of his lips. Her heart fluttered at the thought of more kisses and she had to pretend to suddenly become very interested in the fall of her skirts, so Beth’s sharp eyes didn’t notice.

* * *

Rufus was waiting impatiently in the main drawing room. Everything was clean and sparkling, and the enormous chandelier was blazing with candles. Of course they were too far away from the city to have gaslights, or the even more modern electricity, but he found he preferred the candlelight.

He hadn’t quite believed his eyes when he first walked into his home. Last time he’d been here there had been dust and cobwebs everywhere. Of course he was very much aware that they were all taking part in a charade, but it was wonderful to see the castle as it should be, as he’d like it to be. James had done a marvelous job, apart from the seed cake earlier, but all in all Rufus was impressed with his disreputable uncle.

“Rufus!”

The familiar voice made him jump. “Great-Aunt Mildred,” he said, and turned with a smile.

She was standing in the doorway behind him, wearing a turban that had seen better days, and a great many shawls. Mildred felt the cold and Southbrook Castle was the devil to heat; even in the summer it could have an arctic chill.

“I see you’ve come prepared,” he said dryly, as he bent to kiss her cheek.

“I have indeed.” She caught his arm so he couldn’t move away. “What are you up to, Rufus? James wouldn’t tell me anything, which surprised me rather. He was always such a rattle, but he’s informed me that his lips are sealed and if I want to know anything then I am to ask you.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” he said. “We have guests and one of them is James’s latest flirt. He knew she wouldn’t come if there wasn’t a female here at the castle, so he roped you in.”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes shrewd. “You’re lying,” she said. “You’re good at it, mind you, but I could always tell.”

Rufus laughed. “I’m not. You’ll see.”

Mildred tipped her head to one side like a wizened little bird. “Maybe not entirely lying, but there’s something you’re not telling me. Who are these guests?”

“Douglas McInnes, my land agent; Lady Averil Martindale; her companion, Miss Beth Harmon; and their protégé, Violet Pinnock.” After much consideration he’d decided that Violet should join them at the table, rather than be hidden away in the servants’ quarters, as was probably more socially proper. The girl would be company for Eustace and besides, he’d be blind not to realize that she was the main reason Douglas McInnes had inserted himself into the evening’s party.

“I know I don’t get down to London as often as I used to,” Mildred replied drolly, “but even I know about the Martindales. Is this Lady Averil the daughter of Anastasia?”

“Yes, she is, but I’d prefer you didn’t pass comment. Averil is nothing like her mother.”

Mildred gave him another of her shrewd looks. “Pity. Anastasia was the sort of woman that drew every eye, especially male eyes. I’d like to see you smitten by a woman, Rufus. You’ve been free and easy for far too long.”

Voices were approaching. Rufus looked up, prepared to play the host, and then Averil entered the room, followed by Beth and Violet. He didn’t notice the others; he only had eyes for Averil. She looked beautiful in her evening dress; her fair hair gleamed under the chandelier and her smile lit up her face. She didn’t possess the sort of beauty that made people stand back and gasp, it was more than that. When Rufus looked at Averil he wanted to reach out and touch her.

Beside him Mildred cleared her throat in an amused way and Rufus bit back a groan. So much for hiding the truth from his great- aunt. He’d given himself away with one glance.