My Lord Viking (7 page)

Four

     
Randolph Denner, 4th Viscount Tuthill, smiled as he entered
Sutherland
Park
’s massive foyer.
 
Already he could seen the signs that preceded every wedding in this grand house.
 
On the stairs that curved upward from the foyer before dividing to reach the three wings of the house, footmen were helping maids take down the portraits of family ancestors.
 
Dust was being banished from the frames.
 

     
He watched with interest as the butler supervised the lowering of the oldest portrait.
 
It was of a tall, blond woman with a regal mien.
 
She wore loose robes that were unadorned except for a length of embroidery at her throat and at the gown’s hem.
 
The gold bands around her arms matched the ornate necklace that fell over her breasts.
 
A set of simple iron keys were held to a chain that encircled her waist.
 
In her hand, she held a primitive spindle.
 
She was not a young woman, but her beauty had not diminished.
 

     
Randolph
had been told that this woman was supposed to be one of the earliest progenitors of the Sutherland family.
 
No one knew who she was, and
Randolph
suspected the portrait was kept here for sentimental reasons.
 
Or mayhap because it had incredible value due to its age.

     
On the upper floor, where a gallery connected the wings of the house at the staircase’s first landing, more servants were carrying furniture from one room to another.
 
He could see, even from where he stood, that the huge ballroom to the left on the floor above was being aired.
 
The double set of double doors had been thrown open.

     
His nose wrinkled.
 
This house might be the finest in this section of
England
, but there was an odor that bespoke its age.
 
Mayhap it was the remnants of countless years of ashes burned on the hearths, or it might be the memories left by all the storms that had come out of the sea and slashed this house for centuries.
 

     
He squared his shoulders as a familiar shadow crossed from the upper gallery and came toward the stairs.
 
Failing to make a good impression on his soon-to-be father-in-law would be silly.
 
Lord Sutherland respected him enough to agree that
Randolph
might ask his daughter to marry.
 
But
Randolph
could never forget the cloud of his spendthrift ancestors that had followed him when he had made inquiries about marrying Lord Murray’s daughter and when he had wished to court Sir Anston Grainger’s daughter.
 

     
Linnea Sutherland might be too much of an air-dreamer, but she could be taught to be a good wife.
 
All she needed to do was accept his offer to wed.
 
She had been so intrigued with the idea when he first had started to call on her.
 
He must be certain that her maidenly concerns did not halt this match which would solve so many problems.

     
“Tuthill, I had not guessed you were calling today.”
 
Lord Sutherland motioned for him to come up the stairs.
 
“Linnea said nothing of expecting you.”

     
Randolph
hastened to obey.
 
The earl always was busy with one thing or another.
 
As he took the steps two at a time, he saw Sutherland smile.
 
By all that’s blue, he always did something to make a jumble of every meeting with Linnea’s father, who resembled his daughter only in coloring, for his face could have been carved from the same rough rock as the house’s foundation.
 

     
“I had thought to surprise her,”
Randolph
said, hoping the earl would take his eagerness as more of a desire to see Linnea than to impress his prospective father-in-law.

     
“I fear the surprise is on you, my boy.
 
She apparently has gone out to take the air.”

     
Randolph
fought to hide his frown.
 
Linnea should be more like her sister Dinah, for the young woman looked up from her embroidery in the parlor to the right of the landing and gave him a welcoming smile.
 
Dinah Sutherland might not have hair as lustrous as Linnea’s, and she was a bit plump, but she knew that Lord Sutherland’s daughter’s place was not rushing about the downs like a hoyden.
 

     
Not for the first time did he curse his ill-fortune in failing to see that Dinah Sutherland would have made a good match for him.
 
Now she was marrying Simmons in the next fortnight.
 
The baron had courted Lady Dinah while
Randolph
was busy settling the matters of his late father’s estate.
 
That had left Linnea without a match.

     
A smile curved along
Randolph
’s mouth.
 
Mayhap he had gotten the better of the deal after all, because Linnea was beautiful and possessed all the graces of the lady who should oversee the estate he intended to bring back to its former glory with the help of her dowry.
 
She would be an exquisite addition to the collection of—

     
The yelping of a dog and lighthearted laughter struck him fiercely.
 
He looked over the carved railing to see a footman chasing a very dirty pup.
 
In their wake, Linnea followed, her dark hair flowing over her shoulders and down her back where her bonnet bounced, hanging by its ribbons.
 
She carried a shoe in one hand and a heavy book in the other.
 
Where her matching slipper might be, he could not guess.
 

     
He started to frown, then heard Sutherland’s boom of laughter.
 
The earl spoiled his youngest daughter, which was why she too often forgot her place in society here at
Sutherland
Park
.
 

     
Linnea noticed
Randolph
’s taut face.
 
She gave up the chase to catch Scamp and climbed the stairs.
 
Randolph
’s dour expression added to the length of his already long features.
 
It was a decidedly vexing countenance, but one she had seen too often lately.
 
Avoiding his eyes, for she did not want to distress him, she forced a smile onto her face as she stepped up beside them.
 
She must find a way to speak alone with Papa.
 

     
In spite of her determination to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, she stiffened.
 
She needed to keep from thinking about that stranger.
 
But how could she when she had so many questions whirling through her head?
 
How had he gotten onto the strand, and who had beaten him so mercilessly?
 
And, the most compelling question of all, why did the steady stare of his purple eyes unsettle her so?
 
He had the appearance of a vagabond.
 
Yet she could not deny there seemed more to him than just a landloper.

     
She kissed her father on the cheek, and her smile became genuine when he picked a piece of seaweed from her hair.
 
She could not guess how it had come to be there, although she suspected it had fallen into her bonnet when she left it with Nils Bjornsson while she was getting Jack.
 

     
“Papa, may I discuss something important with you?”

     
He chuckled.
 
“I suspect you should allow Tuthill to speak with you first.
 
He seems about to burst with impatience from waiting to talk with you.”
 

     
When her father looked past her, she turned to
Randolph
and kept her smile in place.
 
It was not easy.
 
She wished he had delayed calling.
 
She wanted to talk to him about her uncertainty about marrying him, but not now.
 
If someone really was trying to kill Nils, the authorities must be forewarned posthaste. Even though she had reassured Olive, she was not so certain that Nils had been mistaken about seeing his blood-enemy on the beach just before she and Jack arrived.

     
“
Randolph
, forgive how I look,” she said.
 
“I was taking a walk with Scamp, and I am afraid he quite earned his name.”

     
“Were you walking along the shore?”

     
She followed his eyes to the hem of her dress that was glazed with sand.
 
“The walk was supposed to be in the water garden, but I am afraid Scamp led me on quite a chase.”
 
She hated lying, but she knew how easy it would have been for so many of the household to notice her near the pavilion in the water garden.
 
“If you will excuse me, I shall tend to Scamp and change into something more presentable.”
 
Again she looked at her father.
 
“Papa, are you bound for your office?”

     
“After I ride into town to speak with Mr. Norman about the repairs to the church steeple.”
 
His smile showed he was clearly puzzled that she seemed more anxious to spend time with him than with
Randolph
.
 

     
“If I could talk with you about...”

     
“
I
can stay just a few minutes,”
Randolph
said, his impatience as obvious as her father’s bafflement.

     
Her father patted her shoulder.
 
“Come to my office later, Linnea.
 
On my way out of the house, I shall make sure that Scamp is taken down to the stable to be cleaned.
 
That will give you a chance to speak with Tuthill during the few minutes of his call.”

     
“Thank you, Papa,” she said, wishing she could sound more grateful.
 
Surely there was a way to persuade Papa that she must speak with him
now
without offending
Randolph
. When
Randolph
’s lips grew rigid, she wondered what he had heard that she had not intended.
 
Or had it been Papa’s words?
 
Nothing in them or his tone had been amiss, but
Randolph
seemed irritated.
 
She sighed.
 
A vexed
Randolph
was sure to prove to be a most disagreeable caller when she was anxious for him to be gone so she could talk with her father.

     
Linnea did not see what message passed between Papa and Dinah, but her sister gathered up her needlework and excused herself as Linnea and
Randolph
walked into the parlor.
 
When Dinah winked at her, Linnea wanted to urge her sister to stay in the light blue room.
 
No one would heed Linnea’s assertion that she did not want to be alone with
Randolph
so they could steal a few of the precious moments all lovers craved.
 

     
“Would you like some lemonade?” Linnea asked when she saw a tray with pitcher and glasses sitting on the cherry sideboard.
 

     
“I said I had very little time.”
 
Randolph
’s tone had taken on that arrogance that meant his annoyance was with her.
 
She could not fault him.
 
His coat and breeches were as clean as if he had just donned them, and his shoes were impeccably polished.
 
“I wished to see how you were faring in the midst of the plans for Lady Dinah’s wedding.”