Chapter Fourteen
Louisa returned to the house without looking back.
Once inside, she took the back stairs to her room.
This was not a good time to see her grandfather, who was probably hoping to question her about her absence.
She walked quietly down the hall, closed her bedroom door with the softest click and let out a sigh of relief.
She washed carefully and readied herself for bed, examining her dinner gown for any signs of what had occurred, but other than a few wrinkles in the silk and a leaf caught in the lace, it appeared to be fine.
It was only when she was sure that she’d left no clues of the evening’s activities that she crawled into bed and allowed herself to think about them. She smiled and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to pretend Thomas was still there, with her.
It was not the same. But that just meant she could remember how wonderful it had truly been, which was a good thing. In the afternoon, he’d said he loved her. In the evening, he had made love to her. And then, he had almost proposed.
It had not quite ruined things. Nothing could ever ruin what had happened before.
But until they were both sure they understood what was happening, no promises should be made on either side.
She did not want to lie down with Tom Smith only to have Thomas Carew, the Duke of Bonham, make a proposal out of duty afterwards.
If he was unconflicted, surely there would be another offer? If there was not? She still had this night to remember. And if they’d both made a grave error and there were consequences?
She did not want to think about that now. But if she was as smart and sensible as Thomas seemed to think, she had to consider all possibilities. If there were consequences, perhaps she would steal the teaspoons and run away, as she’d planned to.
Or perhaps she simply needed to find her father’s will. She’d looked before without success. She’d assumed that she was too stupid to outwit her grandfather. He’d always told her so and she had believed him.
But that was nonsense. She’d always known she was smarter than he’d said. She’d been getting around him in small ways for years. It was time to show him how wrong he was.
But tonight, she would close her eyes and dream of Thomas.
The next morning, when she came down to breakfast, her grandfather was already at the table.
For the first time in her life, she was at a loss as to how to behave in front of him.
She’d smiled her way through these interactions for years, masking her fear and misery to keep him from attacking her with vicious words.
But today, if she smiled, there would be real joy behind it.
He would sense that she was happy and be even more sadistic than usual.
She paused for a moment in the doorway of the dining room, trying to compose herself.
She did not want to share even a sliver of her true feelings just to have them stripped away.
Neither did she want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her frown. If she looked angry or unhappy, he might think he’d broken her spirit. He would think he’d won, and she hated that. Perhaps, this morning, it was necessary. She let the frustration overwhelm her and stepped into the dining room.
‘Good morning, Louisa.’
‘Good morning, Grandfather.’ She stared down at her feet, refusing to look him in the eye, and took her seat. She reached for a muffin and focused all her energy on slathering it with butter.
‘You will get fat, if you eat like that,’ he remarked.
‘I did not eat supper, last night,’ she reminded him.
‘That is no reason to be a glutton, today.’
She paused. In the past, if he’d talked to her that way, she’d have set the muffin aside and settled for a cup of tea and a little dry toast.
Today, she reached for the jam, adding a dollop on top of the butter. Then she ate. It was delicious.
Her grandfather made a small, disapproving noise, hoping to rein her in.
She ignored it and took another bite.
‘I have been thinking,’ he said slowly. Then he paused to sip his tea, letting the suspense build.
She continued to eat, though the muffin did not taste as good as it had. His words could suck the flavour out of her meal and the sunshine from the day. She pushed all thoughts of Thomas to the back of her mind, locking them away to keep them safe.
It annoyed her that he could manage to upset her with the same silly, dramatic tricks, over and over again. He was still waiting for her to say her line and give him the cue to speak again. How long would they have to sit here in silence if she refused to respond?
Another few seconds passed. ‘I am thinking…’ he repeated ‘…that we do not need a garden, after all.’
She struggled to swallow the last bite of muffin she’d taken.
It felt as if her throat was closing around it, choking her.
She could not speak to defend herself or tell him that the garden had been bought with her parents’ money and was not his to touch.
Very deliberately, she picked up her teacup and sipped, taking her time to answer until she was sure she was in control.
‘We have had a garden for as long as we’ve been here. Why change it now?’
‘I had not even seen the place until yesterday, when the countess visited.’ His smile grew smug. ‘If it is used so rarely, there is little point in expending money on it.’
Used rarely by him. It was more likely he wanted to cut off her only escape when they were together. She chose her next words carefully, so he would not think he’d upset her. ‘What would you have in its place?’
He paused again, as if planning the next move in some game of strategy. ‘I think a landscape garden. We could return the space to nature. A few shrubs and some grass would require no work at all.’
‘On the contrary,’ she said. ‘The natural look of such a garden is an illusion. The plantings, the rocks and little streams all must be carefully thought out.’
‘We will see what God provides,’ he said, ignoring her words. ‘Surely you do not think you can improve on His work.’
‘I do not seek to improve on God or nature. I simply…’
‘And those big stones at the bottom of the hill,’ he said, shaking his head in disapproval. ‘Pagan things. I have never liked them. I shall have a farmer come with his horses and pull them down. We shall have a folly instead. A ruin of some sort…’
Did he know what had happened there? Had he seen?
Or did he simply guess how important they were to her, especially after last night?
‘They are very large,’ she said cautiously.
‘And very old. I would hate for someone to be injured trying to dispose of something that can’t even be seen from the house. ’
‘It can be seen from the bench at the end of the garden,’ he pointed out, smiling unpleasantly.
‘Oh.’ Suddenly, the room felt cold. She refilled her teacup and reached for the sugar bowl.
But she could feel his gaze, heavy and disapproving, watching each move she made.
Had he been hinting that he’d sat on the bench last night, waiting for her to return?
She retracted her hand and drank the tea plain.
Later, when they were almost finished with the meal, there was a knock at the front door. If it had been Percy, he would not have bothered to knock. But Thomas might. The sharp rat-tat of the knocker had her imagining a man with a firm character and a sense of purpose.
Taking care not to seem too eager, she set her napkin aside and rose to answer it.
‘You needn’t bother,’ he said, reaching for another piece of toast. ‘I have instructed the butler to turn away any callers. We have had quite enough company for the week. I wish the house to be quiet, as I like it.’
‘All right,’ she said mechanically, wondering if there was a chance she could get to a front window in time to see who it had been. She emptied her cup and rose.
‘Where are you going?’ he demanded, suspicious.
‘To the morning room to write some letters,’ she said. ‘I thought, perhaps, I might write to Percy…’
‘You do not know where he is, do you?’ he said, his smile turning wicked.
‘He was talking about going to Bath,’ she said, grasping for an answer that made sense.
‘But he cannot have reached there, yet.’
‘I also have friends in London who would enjoy a letter.’
‘You needn’t bother,’ her grandfather said. ‘You will not be seeing them again. There is no point in maintaining the connections.’
She could feel her world getting smaller with each word. Her grandfather was gleeful as he watched her struggling to escape.
Tonight, when she went to the garden to wait for Thomas…
But she did not dare go. If the old man had not watched her last night, he’d made it clear that he would be watching from now on. Just thinking about what he might have already seen would make her blush with shame. Her cheeks already felt hot. Tears prickled at the backs of her eyes.
No.
Even though she did not say the word aloud, the thought of it was delightfully freeing. She was not going to let him frighten her. Nor was she going to be ashamed about what this horrible old despot might have seen, if he’d decided to spy on her.
She sat back down and refilled her cup. Then, she pulled the sugar bowl close again and added a spoonful to her tea. She stirred. She sipped. Then, she looked him directly in the eye and spoke. ‘Very well, then. I will not waste the paper on letters. Is there something you wish me to do, instead?’
Her question surprised him. If he’d been expecting her to bow her head and slink away like a whipped dog, this unsmiling, unflinching obedience must look more like contempt.
He watched her suspiciously for a moment as if searching for a chink in her shiny new armour.
‘Why, yes. I would like you to fire the gardener. Tell him we will have no further need of him and send him off without a reference.’
‘Very well,’ she said coolly, and rose to go.
‘You have not finished your tea. That is a waste of sugar.’
‘I am aware of that,’ she said, dismissively, and kept walking.
Thomas was already sitting in the public room of The Spotted Hog, drinking ale and considering his options, when Percy came downstairs after breakfast. ‘I have been to your family home,’ he said, staring into his mug and wondering if it was too soon to ask for another.
‘An early visit,’ his friend remarked, giving him a thoughtful look. ‘You were also out late last night.’
‘I was talking with Louisa,’ he said. That was not precisely a lie. They had talked for part of the time they’d been together. He continued to stare at his drink, not quite ready to look his friend in the eye.
‘And what did you conclude?’
‘I was unable to convince her to come back to the inn with me,’ he admitted. ‘I went again this morning and the butler turned me away at the door.’
Percy signalled the barman for a drink. ‘With me gone from the house, I suspect Turner feels he has no choice but to obey the old man.’
‘I will go to the standing stones again tonight,’ Thomas said. ‘If she comes down from the garden, I will pick her up and carry her, if need be. She cannot stay where she is.’
‘That is rather drastic,’ Percy said. ‘Perhaps, if we let the matter settle for a few days, Grandfather’s temper will die down. He’ll let me back in, at least. But I doubt he’ll want to see you again.’
‘I should never have come here,’ Thomas said, staring into his empty tankard. ‘I have been no help at all.’
‘I would not say that,’ Percy replied. But there was something about his tone of voice that made Thomas suspect it was nothing more than a sop to his wounded pride. Whatever it was, it did not change the fact that the woman he had promised to save was all but a prisoner in her own home.
The door to the inn opened and Percy started in surprise and waved to the man who had entered. ‘Webb. What are you doing here in the middle of the day?’ He gestured the fellow over to the table and announced, ‘Webb is my grandfather’s gardener. Perhaps he has news from the house.’
The gardener removed his hat. ‘I do, Master Percy. It is not good. I’ve got the sack.’
‘Let go?’ Percy said, shocked. ‘Sit down, man. Tell us what happened.’
‘It was Miss Louisa what done it, at his Lordship’s instruction. She was told I must go immediately and without reference.’
‘The old bastard,’ Percy said, shaking his head and calling for another ale for their new companion.
‘Miss Louisa said she was sorry. That I should find you here, and tell the Duke of Bonham to give me a position.’
‘Of course,’ Thomas said, not bothering to explain why he was so sure of it. ‘But why would Louisa consent to such a thing?’
‘She says his Lordship is lettin’ the garden go wild and means to tear out the standin’ stones and put in one of them follies.’ Webb frowned. ‘It ain’t right. Them stones was there before the house. Before the village, even. Bad luck to knock ’em down.’
Thomas frowned as well. Removing the garden, especially the stones, was a direct attempt to hurt Louisa.
He must have known how much she loved them.
Which meant she had sent the gardener here as a cry for help.
‘The garden will be all right without you for a couple of days,’ he said to Webb with a grim smile.
‘And I doubt he will find anyone in the area ready to tempt fate by pulling down those stones. We have time.’
‘Time for what?’ Percy said.
‘To summon the Duke of Bonham so he might pay a visit to your grandfather.’