Lord Cavendish Returns (8 page)

“
Quest?” Arrabella wondered what kind of quest the man before
her could be on that needed her input, but couldn’t find the words
to put together to ask him. Was she the one who had sighed? Heat
bloomed in her cheeks and she fervently hoped that he couldn’t read
what was going through her mind.

“
Pardon?”
Lord, she had the thickest
lashes he had ever seen on anyone.

“
Pardon?” Arrabella blinked at him and tried to focus her
thoughts. He must think she was vacant. She gave herself a mental
shake, broke her gaze away from his and blinked carefully down at
the basket in her hand. Why was she carrying them? Oh, that was it;
she was going to change the flowers at the altar. She realised then
the man was still waiting for her to answer him. As much as she
tried to avoid it, she felt her gaze being drawn back to his
anyway, and soon found herself ensnared by that hypnotic green gaze
that seemed to rob her of all thought.

As the
minutes ticked by, neither of them seemed willing, or able, to
break the silence that had settled over them. It was only when Mr
Cower ambled past and called a cheery greeting that Arrabella was
drawn out of her daze. Determined to keep her mind off his stunning
good looks, she took a deep breath while she tried to remember
where they were.

“
You said that you were on a quest and needed my help,”
Arrabella reported carefully and hoped against hope that she hadn’t
got it all wrong.

“
Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Something inside Harper seemed to
click and he suddenly realised that he was making a complete arse
of himself. “Sorry, I was miles away.” He held out his hand and
offered her his most winning smile. “My name is Harper
Lawton.”

Arrabella stared at the huge hand he held out to her. She
didn’t want to touch it but it would be horribly impolite of her if
she didn’t. When her palm met the warmth of his she knew she should
have ignored his pro-offered gesture of greeting. As soon as their
palms touched a sudden jolt of awareness flew through her that was
so strong that it made her audibly gasp. Her eyes flew to his and
she read the understanding there. He had felt it too, she was sure
of it. Her suspicions were proven correct when the smile slowly
left his face and he studied her with a rather bemused expression
of - something; she couldn’t quite make out what it was, but it was
darned unnerving.

“
Lawton?” She gasped, and tried to recall where she had heard
that name before. “You are Doctor Lawton’s brother?”

“
Yes, I am, and Robert Lawton, the blacksmith, and Joseph
Lawton, the farmer.”

Arrabella nodded although could see no family resemblance
whatsoever. The Lawton brothers were not as tall and distinguished
as the man who was before her, nor did they have the powerful
shoulders or the rakish charm. This gentleman must have ladies
swooning at his feet wherever he went.

Determined not to be one of them, Arrabella broke eye contact
again and ruthlessly pushed aside the slight bereft feeling she
felt as she did so.

“
How can I help you?”

“
Pardon?”

Arrabella frowned at him and wondered if they would be there
all morning. Not that she minded of course, it was just that she
had to give her mother her medication in an hour and still had to
change the flowers at the altar.

“
You said you needed my help in your quest,” Arrabella
prompted. “How can I help you?”

The way
he stared at her made her want to run a hand over her face to see
if she had some cream left on it from the scone she had eaten
earlier. Rather than appear so self-conscious though, she merely
stood before him and waited patiently for him to tell her why he
was there.

Harper
gave himself a mental shake and studied the house behind her. It
was the vicarage and it too had remained relatively untouched
throughout the time he had been away. The only major difference was
the presence of the woman before him. He knew with absolute
certainty that if she had been the village when he had been here as
a young man, he would never have left to fight any war. The hounds
from Hell would not have parted him from her door.

The
sudden squawk from a crow as it flew out of the trees snapped him
out of his daze. He ran a hand down his face and wondered just what
the hell the country air had done to him. One sight of a pretty
young woman and he turned into a blundering dunderhead.

“
I need to look at the parish records.”

Arrabella frowned at him. “Any particular parish record or
all of them?”

Relieved
to finally start to get some sense of normality back, Harper
latched on to her determination to keep the conversation going and
took a breath. “I work for the War Office.” He had no idea why he
had just told her that but it had slipped out anyway. “I need to
check the parish records to see if someone was born here. If they
were, I need to know who their parents were.”

His
voice was rich and had a faint huskiness to it that made him sound
as though he had just woken up. She wondered what he looked like
first thing in the morning. Where the thought came from heaven only
knew, but it was enough to make her gasp. Her cheeks immediately
flooded with colour at the scandalous nature of her musings and she
looked at him somewhat awkwardly.

Harper
broke off and studied her. A twinge of wry amusement swept through
him. Although he had no idea what was going through her mind, he
was fairly certain that the pretty lady was just as shaken by their
first meeting as he was. It made him feel inordinately pleased with
the world and, rather than feel slightly caged as he usually did
when he attracted a lady’s interest, he was rather intrigued to
know how far the attraction he felt for this particular beauty
would go.

Arrabella swallowed and fought the urge to groan aloud at the
amused look he gave her.

Well, the arrogance of the man,
she
thought rather waspishly. He knew that he was having an effect on
her, and was enjoying every single moment of her
discomfort.

Determined not to let him see just how deeply she was
affected by his presence, she squared her shoulders and gave him an
almost defiant look. Manners demanded that she invite him back to
the vicarage so that she could take the details of the records he
needed to see, but she didn’t want him in her home. She knew
instinctively that the presence of the man beside her would linger
like an ephemeral spirit who refused to leave, and she didn’t want
to walk around her own home thinking about him whenever she found
herself alone.

“
What year do you need to see?” She sighed and slowly began to
walk toward the church door instead. Some of the parish records
were still kept in the ante room under lock and key. If she was
lucky she could find the record he needed, give him the information
he was after, and send him on his way.

“
I need a birth record from one and thirty years
ago.”

This was
enough to make Arrabella lift her brows and stare at him for a
moment. He looked roughly one and thirty. Was the record
his?

She
unlocked the huge wooden door and drew her shawl tighter around her
shoulders as she walked into the chilled interior of the huge stone
church. It never got warm inside the massive building but, whenever
Arrabella mentioned it to her father, he always reminded her that
it was God’s way of teaching the congregation that they should not
take the Lord’s favour for granted, and a little discomfort once or
twice a week was a small price to pay for the sins they undoubtedly
committed in between services. Arrabella was always left to wonder
whether frostbite was part and parcel of recompensing for sin, and
could only hope so because right now she was struggling not to
sniff inelegantly against the cold that had begun to bite her
nose.

“
The records are usually kept in here but I don’t know if they
go back that far.”

It was
on the tip of Harper’ tongue to tell her that one and thirty years
were not all that long ago but wisely kept his mouth
closed.

Arrabella hurried across the ante room to the small, locked
cupboard that housed the main bible and the records. She knelt
before the cupboard and began to rifle through several large dusty
tomes which were located at the bottom, but they only went back
fifteen years.

“
I need to ask my father where the older ones are.”

“
Where do they usually go?” Harper asked quietly from his
position on the floor beside her.

She had
removed the volumes, read the dates on the spines and he had placed
them on the floor beside them. It seemed a menial, yet intimate
thing to do and he tried to stretch the moment out a little longer
than was necessary. While they were seated, he carefully handed the
volumes back to her to return to the bureau.

“
They may have been moved to the vicarage to stop mice getting
at them, or they may be in the cellar.”

“
Cellar?”

Arrabella pointed downward. “There is a cellar beneath the
church. Some say that there is also a tunnel that runs from the
house to the church, but I have never seen any doorway.” She didn’t
mention that she hated the cellar and only went down there when
absolutely necessary, and only then with at least three other
people in attendance.

Harper
nodded warily. He had no objection to the prospect of being able to
wander around in the darkness with her, and would relish the
opportunity of being able to guide her through her trauma with a
lot of hand holding and whispered reassurance. Unfortunately
though, it wouldn’t do much good for her reputation.

“
Do you know where they would be kept if they were in the
vicarage?”

Arrabella thought about it for a moment. She could feel his
eyes wandering over the side of her face and wondered, not for the
first time, what he saw that interested him so. She opened her
mouth to speak to him when the appearance of her father in the
doorway drew her attention.

“
Hello, Papa,” Arrabella called and shared a fond smile with
her father, who nodded at Harper. Arrabella made introductions. “He
needs to look at the records from one and thirty years ago but they
aren’t in the cupboard. Do you have any idea where they might
be?”

“
Oh, well now, I understand that they were removed from the
church and taken over to Moldton after the great fire here five and
twenty years ago now.”

“
Of course, I remember that,” Harper sighed. “I was a young
boy at the time but can remember seeing the flames from the roof
from my bedroom window.”

“
You are related to the Lawton brothers?” The vicar lifted his
brows and didn’t seem surprised when Harper nodded.

“
Angus, Robert and Joseph are my brothers. I have been away at
war,” he glanced at Arrabella and smiled when he found her watching
him closely. “Now I work for the War Office.”

“
Excellent. Well, I am sure that Arrabella can help you search
for the information you are after. I don’t believe that the records
came back here after the fire. I think they are still over in the
crypt in Moldton.” He patted his pockets absently before he drew
out a large bunch of keys and handed them to Arrabella. “For some
reason nobody ever saw fit to return the parish records to this
church and, to be honest with you, I have never given them a second
thought. I hope you find what you are looking for.” With that,
Reverend Farthing turned to the door with a frown on his face. Once
in the doorway he stared at the ground beneath his feet absently
for a moment before he turned toward Arrabella with a vague
stare.

“
What is it Papa?” She urged him gently. She wondered if he
was having another one of his ‘episodes’ and sighed when he didn’t
even appear to have heard her.

“
Oh, yes, that was it. I came to tell you that I am off now to
see the Bishop in York and will be back at the end of next week.
Your mother is just about to set off to your aunts to take the sea
air, so you are on your own for the next week and a
bit.”

Shocked,
Arrabella opened her mouth to speak only for her father to
interrupt. “I am sure you will manage perfectly well on your own.
Ta ta, dearest.”

Arrabella sighed and tried to decide what to do. It would be
highly improper of her to hand Harper the keys and tell him to go
to Moldton church alone, but the last thing she wanted to do was
spend any more time alone with the man than she already had. He
distracted her far too much for her peace of mind. Unfortunately,
her father clearly wasn’t in a position to help the man and there
really was nobody else, so it was left to her to help
him.

“
Before we traipse over to Moldton, I will take a quick peek
in the attics in the vicarage and check the boxes there. There were
some trunks left over from when the old vicar moved out and I can
distinctly recall that some of the contents were books of some
kind. I am not sure if the parish records were brought back here
and have merely been forgotten.”

“
I would like to go and see my brother, Joseph, this afternoon
anyway,” Harper replied. “It has been some time since I have been
back in the village you see and I have kind of lost touch with
everyone.”