“If they came from the city, then a whole day, maybe more. But from their homes, perhaps a four-hour trip on a clear day.”
“Good. Then tell them to return home. Lady Danderly is not taking callers.”
“They won’t care for that.”
“Then don’t give them a choice.” His words clipped the air with authority, simple and straightforward, and he expected to be obeyed.
Mr. Newhouse watched him for a close minute, then a smile crept up his face, taking a decade off his presumably fifty-plus years. “It would be a pleasure. Should I alert the baroness?”
“She’s likely resting in her room, so leave her be.”
“She’s in the gazebo on the south pond.”
“Get rid of them, Mr. Newhouse. I’ll alert your mistress.”
Four
Freddie hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but watching the swans slip gracefully across the water like their feathery bottoms were gliding on a mirror was akin to a sleeping tincture. The gazebo had always been a favorite place. The white-painted pavilion was fully enclosed with shutters between each ivy-carved stone pillar. The slats could be turned for shaded light or thrown wide by their hinges for the full effect. It was large enough for a friendly gathering and small enough for an interlude. A semi-circle of well-cushioned benches lined the walls. The beige-striped pillows were soft enough to dream upon.
And dream she did of a tall man with a chiseled jaw, steel-gray eyes, and a smooth voice like honey melting across her skin, her lips, her tongue.
Lord help her if she didn’t hear him in her sleep. Her eyelids flew open. He stood opposite, leaning a negligent shoulder against a solid pillar. With his shirtsleeves rolled up, his arms rivaled the hard granite. She swallowed, trying not to notice how the afternoon sunlight glowed like a halo around his profile.
He had not been speaking, which was even more distressing to realize how true her dream had seemed. The music of him mentally seduced her like the lilting pulse of a siren’s song. She raised her head, and he followed her movement, just now noticing that she was awake.
“Good afternoon, my lady.” His voice flowed over her as it did in her dream.
“I didn’t expect to fall asleep nor find you here when I woke.” She fussed with her disheveled hair.
He positioned his back against the same column, his hands shoved in his pockets, his dark brown hair falling forward with a swirl. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t wish to interrupt you, but I didn’t want to leave you either, just in case your relatives were still here.”
She sat up, pulling at her bodice and thanking God that she hadn’t fallen out of it, then finger-combed her un-coifed hair to one side. “They’re here?” She couldn’t keep the panic from her voice.
“I had them sent away.” With a tilt of his head, he watched her.
“And they went?”
“I assume so. Are they likely to stay where they’re not welcome?”
“All the time.” She didn’t bother getting up. She twisted in her seat, judging the hour by the sun's movement and how it changed the water from shining blue to deep indigo. It looked to be late afternoon. “Thankfully, they won’t come out here. Suzanna loathes the water. She fell in once.” She gave him a sideways glance. “The swans attacked her.” She couldn’t help the giggle. “I suppose I shouldn’t laugh.” She only felt a little guilty until she saw his shoulders shaking.
“No doubt she deserved it.”
“And more, I promise.” She sobered. “Did you get much work done?”
“Enough. I must retrieve my clothing unless you like seeing me in the same shirtsleeves every day.”
Without a thought, her gaze not only examined him, it pursued him. When she met his eyes, there was a wicked glint about him. “I hadn’t noticed.” But she could see that he tried not to smile and didn’t believe her. “Will you be gone for the night? Or will you return?”
“Depends. I must settle a bill, gather my things, and head back. But I hate to leave you if your husband’s siblings are still here.”
“I can handle them. Take care of your needs. We’ll continue our work tomorrow.”
He twisted his head to see the pillar next to his ear and reached up to trace the stone ivy. “May I speak candidly, Lady Danderly?” he asked while his long, lean fingers traced around the heart-shaped bottom of a carved leaf to the sharp pointed tip.
“Please do. That’s why I hired you, or the League did, at least. And stop calling me Lady Danderly. I don’t believe I’ve ever really been that. Those who know me call me Freddie. Even the staff calls me Miss Freddie.”
He cocked a brow and offered a dazzling smile. “And those who know me call me Cade.”
She ignored the obvious omission of his given name. Most people, especially men, called each other by their titles or surnames. Perhaps it was more a compliment that he considered her an equal. Why else?
“I understand your concern about the will, which I’ve still yet to see, but exactly how do your in-laws propose to prove your virtue intact?”
She felt her skin warm. Blaze, actually.
He chuckled. “The blush alone may do it.”
“My horrible sister-by-law has threatened to have a doctor examine me. Is that enough reason to blush, do you think?”
His mouth opened, and he straightened from holding up the column like a Greek god. “How?”
“Oh, it can be done. A most intrusive procedure. And if the courts allow it, then what am I to do? If I refuse, then I’m lost. If they find me out, then I’m lost. I am not bred from this life. There would be nowhere for me to go and no monies to start again. So you see, my opportunities are few and none appealing. If they’re successful and refuse me a reference, I should not be fit for decent work.” She begged him with a straightforward look to understand. “And Mr. Cade, I will need a reference for decent work. The best a woman like me could hope for is…” She trailed off, biting her lip. “Mistress.” Even she knew that was pushing it.
With hands on his lean hips, his voluminous shirtsleeves billowing in the breeze like a pirate, he leaned his head back, watching the slatted ceiling, and tsked. Then turned a playful look upon her. “Any prospects?”
She smiled, despite the brevity of the subject, what with her relatives breathing down her neck and her plight. He managed to make her feel lighter. “Not funny. But I do appreciate your sense of humor.”
“I would be happy to refer you.”
“With all due respect, the reference of a solicitor, given for the daughter of a mere farmer, is not likely to help. Now.” She laughed. “If I but knew something about being a mistress, perhaps I could make that work. But alas, even with my mockery of a marriage, I’ve never even been kissed.”
“Tease with caution, please. The walls and pond may have ears. Which brings me to another subject—or perhaps the same subject. The courts will find it difficult to believe that your husband did not touch you. You are quite beautiful. In a mistress sort of way.” He winked.
She pressed her lips, suppressing an outright smile. “Now, if I could just find a handsome, charming duke to employ me.”