A Lot Like a Lady (25 page)

Grey glared at his uncle, considering whether he could strangle him before his flea-bitten mongrel got in a few good bites.

Lucien turned for the door again. “Come along, Lord Perceval.”

The cur scrambled to his feet and then ambled toward the door as if on a stroll in the park.

Lucien stared hard at Grey and then snorted. “Blasted fool,” he muttered as he pulled the door closed.

Grey sank in his chair, leaned his elbows on the desk, and rested his head in his hands. How could he possibly go after her? What could he offer her? Certainly not marriage. He had duties… a responsibility to the family name…

He pushed himself upright. She’d mentioned his father. When she had first arrived and he’d still been under the impression she was Annabella, she’d mentioned how compassionate she had found the late duke. Annabella had always made her feelings of disdain for his father quite clear.

Grey rubbed his aching head and struggled to remember. A vision of two girls formed in his mind. One of debutante age, the other perhaps a bit younger…

“You should greet your brother, Annabella,” Regina said, meeting the girls at the door. She gave the taller girl a gentle push in Grey’s direction.

The girl placed her hands on her hips and stomped her foot. Her black velvet mourning gown swirled delicately around her feet. “Stepbrother,” she shrieked. “He is my stepbrother.”

Grey clenched his teeth and started toward the chit. The young girl standing next to her laid a hand on her arm and whispered in her ear. The temper vanished from Annabella’s face and she favored her companion with a warm smile.

What had she said to his stepsister? He strained to see her through the crowd. Something about her struck him as vaguely familiar but he couldn’t put a name to her. From across the room, he got the impression of reddened eyes and a tear-streaked face. Her pale hair had been pulled up in a style similar to that of his stepsister. Her dress was much simpler than Annabella’s, dark gray and plain even by country standards. But she carried herself with grace.

“I do not wish to speak with him, Mother. Stop pushing me at every man who breathes and possesses a title.”

The young girl took his sister’s hand and led her to the other side of the drawing room, whispering and patting her hand. Annabella’s outbursts grew tiresome, but each time she became petulant, the stranger murmured to her. Whoever she was, Grey was grateful she’d come.

The log in the fireplace crackled and a tiny flame danced along the top before the charted wood split and fell through the grate, snuffing it out.

Grey shook his head as the memory faded. The signs had all been present. He’d known his magpie wasn’t a noblewoman. But she’d been hauntingly familiar, and she’d known so much of his family history. It had been a simple assumption to decide she was a friend of Annabella’s — someone from school perhaps. It had never occurred to him that she’d been a lot closer than that… or that he’d seen her once before.

May 9, 1813

Haselmere, England

The morning sun had just begun pushing back the mist when Juliet paid the hackney driver from the money Higgins had slipped her — double the fare as agreed so he would travel at night.

“Are ye sure ye want me to leave ye here, m’lady?” The young man glanced at the stone cottage. “It looks fair deserted.”

She barely glanced at the guest house. If Regina hadn’t known Annabella had not gone to London, she must still be hiding. “Yes, this is the place. Thank you.”

With a shrug that clearly said he believed she was dashed in the nob, the man climbed on his rig and headed off the way they’d come.

Juliet picked up her valise and crossed the yard to the cottage door. The place did look deserted. Had Annabella gone running back to the main house after all?

Why didn’t you send the blasted note? Now we’ve both made a mull of things, and I have no intentions o’ facin’ yer mother without you!

The door was locked tight, so she gave it three sharp raps. “Annabella?” A startled mouse darted from the overgrown bush near the door. “Oh!” screamed Juliet. In the apple trees behind her, a magpie scolded. Blinking back tears, she knocked again and called out a bit louder. “Annabella! Open this door!”

Leaving the valise at the front of the cottage, Juliet picked her way through the unkempt yard to the rear entrance. She rattled the handle but it wouldn’t give.

“I shoulda known better’n to trust a plan o’ yours to work, ye chicken brain.” She gave the door a solid kick, imagining it to be Annabella’s backside, then stalked around to the front of the cottage again and picked up her bag.

The sun poked its fingers through the canopy of elm leaves as she strode along the narrow lane. A red squirrel raced ahead of her along the top of the moss-covered stone fence, every once in awhile stopping to chitter at her before scampering off again.

By the time the main house came into view, she was nearly dragging the valise along the lane behind her. Good. It belonged to Annabella and she hated dirt.

She didn’t even glance at the front of the house, but walked straight around to the rear entrance. Dropping the valise on the path, she drew a fortifying breath and then threw open the door. Patricia Baines stood at one of the tables perusing a sheet of paper. That would be the menu for the day, which meant Regina was expected to arrive home in time for supper.

Juliet’s mother ran a finger down the page, then tapped it twice when she got to the bottom. Only then did she glance up and smile. “Hello, Juliet. Did you enjoy your stay in London with Lady Annabella?”

“Mummy…” Tears welled and spilled over, cascading like a waterfall off Juliet’s cheeks. “Oh, Mummy! I’ve done something terribly foolish.”

****

“You asked to see me before I leave, your grace?” Regina lingered in the doorway. She wore a traveling gown, this one in a too-vivid shade of blue, apparently planning to make good on her departure plans as soon as they finished conducting their business.

“Yes, come in.” Grey pushed away from his desk and crossed the room to escort his stepmother to the reading area. “Please… have a seat. Can I have Emily bring you some chocolate?” He gestured to one of the red velvet chairs near the window.

Regina’s head jerked up and she glanced from him to the door then back at him, a smile curving her lips. “My, how you’ve changed.” She arranged herself on the chair. “Was a time you barely acknowledged the help, let alone knew their names.”

Grey stiffened. Had she just hinted at something unseemly because of his unwitting involvement with
her
maid? He drew a breath to speak.

“Your father would have been proud,” she added softly, tracing a finger along the arm of her chair.

Startled, Grey
straightened his back.
If she’s after making implications of Father’s impropriety with servants…

“He made it a point to learn the names of all those in his employ.” She met his eyes and her smile warmed. “Taught me a lesson about how to treat servants with that.”

Grey blinked, unable to keep up. The resemblance between his stepmother and her aunts was amazing.

“Yes, well, my father was…” Words left him and Grey cleared his throat. “In any case, might I inquire what brought you to London?”

She closed her eyes for a moment but then opened them again and settled her direct blue gaze on his. “Perhaps this is not the time, your grace. I wish to find my daughter and you have… other concerns.”

Grey’s jaw clenched. It wouldn’t do to show his stepmother the extent of his ire. A breeze blew the heavy draperies inward. He watched them billow and then collapse back against the window before he answered. “I will always have other concerns, Regina. Now is the perfect time to discuss your reason for arriving at my home unannounced.”

Her gaze narrowed, and for the briefest of moments Grey caught a glimpse of the proud and strong-willed woman his father had married. “You would ask that I give you the courtesy of announcing myself when coming to call on my stepson?” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “The stepson who has no care for his home in the country to the point he makes it nearly impossible to run the estate? And then he sends a man to inquire as to the company I keep?”

Confused as to her meaning, Grey frowned. “Impossible to run the estate? What nonsense are you spouting?”

She lifted her chin and locked him in her regal stare. “I notice you do not deny that you have set your man to looking into my private life.”

Understanding bloomed. So word had reached her that he was looking into the affairs of Wyndham Green. As much as he would have liked to put that off, he knew the time had come to discuss it.

He sat back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “It has come to my attention that you have been seen in the company of Wyndham Green’s estate manager. Sheridan Dawes?”

Regina paled. With deliberate slowness, she rose. “Exactly what are you accusing me of, sir?” Her voice shook with the force of her emotion.

Refusing to stay seated while he strained his neck to look at her, Grey stood as well and folded his arms across his chest. “A better question is why would a woman of nobility — a duchess — deem to lower herself by socializing with the help.”

“Of all the—” Regina’s nostrils flared, and she set her mouth in a firm line. She pushed past him and headed for the door.

Where did she think she was going? He hadn't yet ended this interview.

He started after her. “Madam, I demand—”

His stepmother wheeled around, fire flashing in her eyes, and pointed her finger at him. “Do not have the audacity to
demand
anything of me. I have not only suffered social ostracizing at your hand, but I’ve had to subsidize the household allowance with my personal funds for the last few months because you no longer deem it necessary to support Wyndham Green.”

Grey tensed. “I beg your pardon?” What the deuce was she speaking of? Images of those ill-kept books with the columns that wouldn’t add properly and short-amount entries consumed his mind. Not supporting Wyndham Green? He was over-supporting the ruddy estate.

“You have no idea what it’s been like since your father died. Nor do you seem to care. He would be ashamed of how you have let his beloved home go because of your dislike for me. And I will not now stand here and allow you to insult me because I have dared to befriend Mr. Dawes.” Regina glided toward the door but paused with her hand on the knob.

“No!” Drawing herself up straight, she whirled and stomped back across the room, her eyes narrowed into a tight glare. Her voice shook as she spoke. “I have endured your treatment these past few years because of my love for your father, but now you have gone too far.” She stabbed a finger at him, stopping just shy of touching his chest. “Were it not for Mr. Dawes agreeing to stay on even though I could pay him only half of his salary, Wyndham Green would have fallen into even further despair than it has. I had already been forced to dismiss the two gardeners and a footman I could no longer afford.”

Her words were like a slap to the cheek and Grey jerked backward. “Madam, I can assure you that Wyndham Green has continued to receive the same amount of funds from me as always.”

“That’s absurd! You’ve reduced the allotment without so much as a word of explanation,” she spat, her voice laced with disbelief.

“Nor have
you
even once informed me that you were in need of my assistance.” Grey stalked to the other side of his desk, intent on showing her the ledgers.

But as he reached for them, he cursed under his breath. He’d sent the blasted things with Harper.

Regina locked her hands on her hips. “I most certainly
did
ask for your help. On several occasions, as a matter of fact. I sent a number of messages asking to discuss the accounts at Wyndham Green and informing you how difficult it had become to make the allowance last. And each time you chose to ignore my request.”

Grey leaned over the desk and glared at her. “I received no such request.”

“Of course you did! After you never responded to the first three letters, Mr. Dawes graciously offered to deliver a note personally. You refused to see him — on two separate occasions.”

Grey fell back into his chair, perplexed by her words. “Regina, I can assure you, Mr. Dawes never presented himself to me. Nor have I ever received a message informing me of your dire circumstances. And not only have I not reduced Wyndham Green’s allowance, extra monies have been added on several occasions to cover negative balances. I would be more than happy to show you the ledgers as proof, once my man Harper finishes examining them,” Grey explained, struggling for patience, striving for calm he certainly didn't feel.

The various small pieces of the whole picture had started to fit themselves together and the result was not a pleasing one.

Regina’s mouth fell open. She sank in the chair beside his desk, clutching the arms. “Y-you have?”

Insistent scratching sounded on the study door, and Grey tightened his lips.
Not today, you blasted devil.

The dog yelped and the scratching stopped. For a fraction of a second, Grey dared hope his fiery Magpie had returned to deal with the dog as only she could. Instead Lucien’s voice filtered through the door. “Come along now. No more of that.”

With a sigh, Grey returned his attention to the matters at hand. “Yes, I have.” He sat across from her, his anger dissolving with the dawn of understanding. “Did it never occur to you to suspect something was amiss with Dawes? To question his motives?” He sagged in his seat. “Did you not realize I would never desert my childhood home?”

His stepmother lowered her head, wiped a tear from her cheek. “Dawes has been the estate manager for years, even before I married your father. Alexander spoke very highly of him, and up until the past few months, everything seemed fine.” She raised her face, revealing deep sorrow in her eyes. “I learned Mr. Dawes had dismissed another of the gardeners, yet neither showed on the ledger. When I questioned him, he said you had cut the estate allowance and we could no longer afford to keep five gardeners. He told me he knew you and I were not close and he didn’t want to cause more problems between us, so he left the ledgers so I wouldn’t worry.”

Grey pinched the bridge of his nose. “So then he befriended you, fed your distrust in me, and used your vulnerability to fleece more funds.”

She clasped her hands together in her lap and locked her gaze on them. “I feel like such a fool.”

As did he. And yet… “Why did you never come to me yourself and inform me you were having financial difficulties?”