Bella and the Beast (30 page)

Miles couldn't imagine, either. Yet he had a bad feeling in his gut, an uneasiness he could not shake. Most robbers sought valuables like jewelry or coins. Was it possible this was no ordinary thief?

But what significance could there be in these old papers?

Her troubled gaze on him, Bella rubbed her arms. She went on in a somber tone, “You might as well return to London without me, Your Grace. I'm afraid I shall have to beg leave from my post and remain here in Oxford.”

Her words struck a hard blow to his chest. Miles stared at her familiar features, the entrancing blue eyes and the pert chin, the soft lips that could utter an impudent remark or seduce him with a kiss. For a moment he could scarcely breathe as everything in him rejected the prospect of never seeing her again. “The fortnight that you promised me is not quite up.”

“I'm sorry, but surely you can see that fulfilling our agreement is no longer possible.” She walked to the window to stare out, her fingers gripping the sill. “I was wrong to leave here from the start. Wrong to travel so far from my family. Only think of what could have happened to Lila.”

Seeing Bella shudder, Miles wrestled with the need to enfold her in the safety of his arms, to offer his protection. But how could he? As her temporary employer, he did not have any real claim on her. And she herself had shunned any hope of further intimacy between them.

He stepped nearer, anyway, stopping just short of touching her. “And what of yourself?” he asked roughly. “Think of what could happen to
you
if I were to leave you here. What if that thief returns?”

She whirled to face him, all fire and brimstone. “What other course of action do I have? Shall I abandon my brother and sister to fend for themselves again? I won't do it!”

Those fierce lapis lazuli eyes caught at his heart. He made a snap decision, a decision that felt absolutely right. Perfect, in fact. “You do have another choice. All three of you will pack up your belongings at once and come back to London with me.”

*   *   *

“I've never been in a palace before,” Lila said in awe as they stepped into the foyer of Aylwin House with its cream marble floor and the grand staircase soaring upward to branch off in two directions. Her head tilted back, a bandbox of belongings in her hand, she slowly twirled around to view every aspect of the massive hall.

Bella imagined the impressive sight through her sister's eyes. Ornate pillars soared to the ceiling. The walls displayed huge murals of mythological scenes on panels framed by elaborate gilding. In the center of the room, an obelisk rose like a needle to point at the high glass-domed roof, now dark from nightfall.

“I wonder if my voice will echo.” Cyrus cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hallo!”

A faint
hallo
ricocheted back to him.

The twins shared a laugh.

Miles handed his riding gloves and hat to a white-wigged footman in crimson livery. Another footman took the bandbox from Lila, along with their outer wraps. Not a hint of a smile cracked the solemn faces of the servants, although Bella thought she spied a twinkle in their eyes. There would be an animated discussion of the new arrivals tonight in the servants' hall, she surmised. Perhaps nothing so unusual had happened in this mansion since the newly minted Duke of Aylwin had returned from Egypt with many shiploads of artifacts over twenty years ago.

Yet she herself still suffered grave misgivings about bringing her siblings here. Although the duke's offer was a godsend, Bella disliked imposing on his hospitality, for it made her feel beholden to him. She felt guilty, as well, for in return for his benevolence, she was tricking him about her true mission in finding the treasure map.

How was she to search, anyway, if she had to monitor her brother and sister? Or tend to her duty of organizing the artifacts in the blue drawing room? And what if the twins interrupted Miles? He was accustomed to working in solitude, and she doubted that he realized just how lively two adolescents could be.

If only Mrs. Norris had been able to come to London, too. But the widow had a son and grandchildren in Oxford and could not be persuaded to part from them.

Bella had given her siblings a stern lecture on the long ride back to London in the sumptuous coach, but already they seemed to have forgotten her instructions about proper behavior in a ducal residence. Now, Cyrus grabbed Lila's hand, and against her laughing protests, he tugged her toward the marble staircase.

Bella made haste to intercept them. “There'll be no exploring tonight,” she warned in an undertone. “Tomorrow is soon enough for a tour.”

Cyrus eyed the long balcony on either side of the stairs. “But I only want to go up there and see if my voice echoes—”

“You'll heed your sister's command,” Miles said firmly, stepping to Bella's side. “In a moment, you'll both be assigned bedchambers. And there you'll stay until the morning. Any insubordination will be reported directly to me.”

He aimed the Ducal Stare at them, and the twins lapsed into meek silence. Bella hid a twist of amusement, for they could have no inkling of the kindness that Miles hid behind his brusque exterior. But she knew. No matter how he might scowl and scold, he was a considerate man underneath it all. He'd offered his protection to all of them, when it surely would be an inconvenience to him. He had even assisted them in packing up their meager belongings, including Papa's papers.

Had he done so for her sake? Was it possible that he harbored an affection for her after their night together?

With all her heart, Bella wanted to believe that. She herself felt a decided warmth toward him, and a mad desire to see his face soften with love when he looked at her. But it wouldn't do to dwell on impossible dreams. She must remember that her stay here was only temporary. Miles was a confirmed bachelor, a dedicated scholar, and a nobleman far beyond her reach.

If he felt anything at all for her, it could only be lust.

A quiver stirred deep within her womb. How she longed to satisfy her own hunger for him. But she must never act upon her desires again, especially not now, with her brother and sister so close at hand.

Pinkerton came hobbling from the rear of the house, Mrs. Witheridge at his side. As Miles introduced Lila to them, Bella could see the curiosity in their eyes. How surprised they must be that the master would treat the brother and sister of an employee as honored guests.

Cyrus would occupy the same chamber as the previous night, while Lila would be installed in the bedroom next to Bella's. In short order, the housekeeper led the twins toward the grand staircase, while Pinkerton headed back down to the servants' hall to issue the appropriate instructions to the staff.

As Bella made to follow, Miles stopped her with a brief touch to her arm. All of her senses sprang to alert as he bent his head closer. “If you're agreeable,” he said in an undertone, “I would like to keep your father's papers locked in the storage room next to my study. You have my word that I won't touch them without your permission.”

Why did he wish to keep Papa's effects locked up?

Struck by a knell of uneasiness, she searched his sober features. She thought of the missing letters, the ghostly figure that both she and Nan had glimpsed. Miles knew nothing about that intruder. Yet he too must have been disturbed by the peculiarity of the break-in at her cottage. Was it possible there was a connection?

Bella needed time alone to think about it all.

“I'd like to check the crates to see if anything is missing, perhaps sometime in the next day or two,” she said. “But you've forbidden me access to your study.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in an attractive half smile that turned her knees to softened butter. “Then a new rule is in order,” he said in a husky murmur meant for her ears alone. “You may enter any room in the west wing at any time … day or night.”

Just like that, a spark kindled between them, the air shimmering with heat. She felt its warmth all the way down to her toes. Was he suggesting that she slip into his bedchamber in the dark of night?

The prospect sounded so very tempting—and so very reckless. She had a duty to her siblings, a job to finish, a map to find. Yet when his gaze dipped to her mouth, Bella had the wild urge to throw her arms around him, to join their lips in an ardent kiss, no matter that a footman stood on duty across the vast hall.

On impulse, she reached out to grasp Miles's hand. He immediately laced his fingers through hers, too, his grip firm and strong. His eyes were dark and intent on her. A powerful surge of emotion washed through her, a swell of passion and gratitude and affection, with hidden depths that she dared not explore.

Was it love? Surely she could not be so unwise as to give her heart to the almighty Duke of Aylwin.

It seemed safest to focus on appreciation. “I never had a chance to thank you, Miles. For the fruit basket … for allowing me to stay here … for taking all of us into your home. You've been far, far too kind.”

Before she could disgrace herself by begging for his love, she tugged her hand free and escaped up the staircase.

 

Chapter 22

The following morning, Bella took her brother and sister on a tour of Aylwin House. They tramped up and down the many staircases, peeking into rooms crammed with statues and into other chambers that were unused, the furniture draped in dustcovers. She sketched them each a map to carry, too, in case they became lost. The twins were on their best behavior, having been suitably awed the previous evening by the warning from Miles.

The Ducal Stare had its good uses.

At midday, they ventured down into the kitchen and enjoyed a simple meal of shepherd's pie at the long table, amid the bustle of the kitchen staff preparing the master's luncheon. Bella wondered if Miles would eat alone in his study where they'd shared a cold supper, smiling and talking, on the night they'd made love.

Beset by wistful longing, she reminded herself it was best to lock away the memory of that forbidden intimacy. Best, too, to stay out of his path by avoiding the ballroom where he often worked. Best not to think about him at all.

After luncheon, she intended to settle her brother and sister in the huge library. They were both avid readers and she could trust them to do their lessons there and then entertain themselves with the many books on display. But first, she escorted them to the blue drawing room so they could see how she was organizing the jumble of broken artifacts.

Cyrus exhibited a keen interest in the task. He asked scores of intelligent questions, some of which she couldn't answer, while helping her lay out the scarabs on a table draped in the white silk that Miles had provided.

Lila wandered to a pile in the corner that Bella had not yet sorted and plucked out an item. It was a flat round implement made of dented bronze with an ornate handle. “Do you suppose this is a mirror?” she asked, bringing it to them.

“I don't know,” Bella said in surprise. “It might be.”

“Maybe I could polish away the tarnish. Then we can see if it shows our reflection.” Lila snatched up a rag and began to rub hard on the bronze surface.

Bella smiled. She could see Papa's influence on her brother and sister, for he had conveyed to them his love for bygone eras. Many an evening, they'd gathered around the fire in their stone hut to examine items he'd unearthed that day, or to discuss how people lived in the ancient world. A lump formed in her throat. How dearly she missed her father …

The sound of footsteps yanked her out of the memory, and she turned just as Helen and Oscar Grayson sauntered through the doorway.

The moment of nostalgia fading, Bella braced herself to deflect their snide commentary. She had felt a particular distaste for them ever since that vicious incident when Helen had trod upon Bella's foot.

The couple looked as if they belonged at a fancy party, fair-haired Helen resplendent in an aqua gown with sea-foam-green trimmings, and Oscar the quintessential gentleman in a claret coat with gray pinstripe trousers and a rose-pink waistcoat. His muttonchop whiskers had been neatly trimmed beneath an artful mop of dark wavy hair.

Bella wasn't fooled by their fine appearances. These two could only be up to no good.

Helen glided past the stacks of artifacts, her disdainful gaze flicking to the twins and then back to Bella. “Miss Jones!” she uttered. “My maid heard gossip that you'd moved your family into Aylwin House. I simply could not believe that you would dare to impose so greatly on the duke's charity.”

Bella gritted her teeth behind a pleasant smile. As much as she'd like to utter a biting retort, she must not lose her temper in front of her siblings. “Mrs. Grayson, Mr. Grayson, allow me to present my sister and brother. Lila, Cyrus, Mr. Grayson is the duke's cousin.”

“And heir, don't forget,” Oscar added with a nasty smirk.

Oblivious to any undercurrents, Cyrus bowed in a desultory manner, then returned to his study of the scarabs. Laying down the bronze mirror, Lila dipped a graceful curtsy, all the while staring in wide-eyed innocence at Helen. “Oh, what a perfectly gorgeous gown, Mrs. Grayson. I've never seen anything so pretty in my life.”

Helen preened. “I employ the finest modiste in London. Though I daresay, a girl of your foreign upbringing can have little experience in matters of style.”

Lila took an earnest step closer. “I've studied the fashion journals, madam. And I am quite skilled in sewing my own dresses. See?” She twirled around, spinning the dark gold skirt of the gown that she had reworked from her former Persian robes.

Bella thought Lila with her golden-brown hair far more lovely than Helen who had amber feline eyes and a superior tilt to her chin. Then Bella noticed Oscar leaning on his cane and staring with an avid expression at the young girl.

Nothing could have been better designed to stir her protective instincts. She could not tolerate another moment in the company of these two miscreants.