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THE FINAL HOURS OF their ride were silent and tense. Rory had taken the front-facing seat next to Rex, leaving Darla to sit beside Clayton. Rory was still chastising herself for her earlier behavior. She shouldn’t have gotten so comfortable with a stranger, especially one that worked for a living. She could still feel the butterflies he had provoked and it was unsettling.
Right now, Clayton hardly looked like a threat. His long legs stretched out in front of him, and his head was tilted back to rest against the carriage wall, his eyes closed. She might have believed he was asleep, but his breathing was too rapid. He was pretending to doze to avoid her. She was grateful for it.
As they came up to the house, Rory was surprised to find it matched her memory so closely. She had been very young when she had come here before, so she thought she might have gotten more details wrong. Yet as it rose up in front of them through the carriage window, it was just as she had imagined.
It was a quaint two-story brick house with a tiny spire at the center where the attic was. The front door was made of a dark wood, and there were roses planted all the way around the sides. As they pulled up the front drive, she saw the trees had grown tall enough to cast dark shadows over the full length of it. From the outside, it looked lovely.
“I don’t like the idea of leaving you here alone.” Clayton looked at her with his eyebrows drawn together as the ladies got out of the carriage.
“I’m not alone. I have the servants inside as well as Miss Capshaw.”
“Miss Capshaw can hardly provide enough defense.”
“Defense against what? I don’t see anything potentially dangerous here but you.”
His nostrils flared and she knew she had struck his ego again. “Good day to you both.”
The men got back into the carriage and it rolled away, leaving her and Darla behind them.
Rory looked up at the new residence she would be living in. “Home sweet home.”
“I’m not sure if I am relieved they are gone or anxious that we are alone now,” said Darla. “I feel he was right when he showed concern about it.”
Inside, they could see where the maids had already cleaned the floors and the furniture, but they couldn’t restore the damage from years of neglect. The rugs were all worn and the wallpaper peeled in places. Even the main staircase couldn’t be brought back to a luster from cleaning alone.
“This is quaint.”
Darla’s words were gentle, but her tone was disdainful. Her gaze moved slowly around the foyer, her frown deepening with every inch. Any further and it would dip below her chin.
“I think it holds a lot of potential.” Rory was trying to convince herself as much as Darla.
Walking through the hallways, Rory moved among the pieces of furniture, looking to see if they were of high value. They might have been worth a lot once upon a time, but none of them would fetch much if they were sold now. She sighed.
“Let’s get settled into our rooms,” Darla suggested, looking as disappointed as Rory felt.
Upstairs there were three large bedrooms to choose from. Rory allowed herself to taker the master bedroom, which had a large wardrobe and a changing room attached to it. Once again, it held items that were in disrepair and too old to be worth much. It was comfortable, though, and the large window had a window seat built into it. As she leaned in to look out the glass, Rory saw that the house extended into the back of the property much farther than she had originally thought. Curious, she collected Darla to go exploring.
“Is this a ballroom?” Darla asked, her mouth falling as they moved the heavy oak doors that led into the elaborate room.
“It must be, but it seems so out of place here.”
This was a small country house, yet they were standing in a ballroom. It had been added on after the house was built, and it didn’t match the design found in the rest of it. The spacious room had white marble columns and a dark wood floor. She could see a stage had been built to hold an orchestra at one end, and there were a row of French doors to one side leading to a little garden. Rory was curious about that as well, but she wanted to take it in piece by piece.
“It looks like it hasn’t hosted a ball in a long time.” Darla pointed up to where holes appeared in the mural painted across the ceiling.
“That is going to be too high for the maids to reach.” Rory sighed.
In the garden, the plants and flowers had gone wild. The pathways were almost covered completely, and the fountain in the center had begun to crumble. Yet something about the space made Rory smile. It felt like a secret garden to her, a place where her aunt might have gone on her own to daydream. Her aunt had never married, so perhaps dreams were all she had.
“This must have been beautiful once.” Rory reached out to touch one of the roses blooming along the vines that crawled across all the stone benches. “What do you think she had this built for? My aunt was hardly a social success.”
“How well did you know her?” Darla asked.
“Not very. My parents seldom talked about her, and she never visited that I can recall.”
“Why did she purchase her own house?”
“My mother said it was because she wanted to avoid being a burden to the family. My father said it was just to be difficult.”
“Perhaps it was both.”
Rory tried to remember more about her aunt but nothing was coming to mind. Perhaps this would give her a chance to get to know her deceased relative a bit more.
“How did she come to own it?” Darla asked, taking a seat on the edge of a pond.
“That I don’t have any idea about. Neither of my parents ever mentioned it.”
Another mystery waiting to be discovered.
“I think we should get settled in and start sorting through the house tomorrow.” Rory was beginning to feel the soreness from the long carriage ride.
Upstairs, Rory lay in the canopy bed in her room and stared at the window. She was too tired to think of much, but her mind wandered to the man from the carriage. Those navy blue eyes had twinkled at her with such humor. She thought of the heat she had felt between them and the way his soft lips looked, peeking out of his blond beard. She had felt the urge to taste those lips and it shocked her. That was the only excuse for why she had behaved with such bad manners. She still wondered what it would have been like if she had allowed him to kiss her and that was her last thought as she fell asleep.
A loud knock at the door woke her up. It was a pounding that sounded like it was never going to stop. Finally, Rory sat up and shouted to the person on the other side.
“Miss Capshaw says I’m not to return to the dining room without you,” said one of the housemaids, sounding firm in her mission.
There was no more daylight coming from the window, and Rory realized she had slept past the start of dinner. She was keeping her companion from her meal.
Quickly, she lit a candle and got changed out of her traveling clothes. She gave her face and neck a brisk wash with cold water and didn’t bother to pin up her hair. She noticed that the oil lamps were lit as she hurried down to the dining room.
“I was beginning to think I would have to eat alone,” said Darla, a bowl of soup in front of her.
“You would be more than welcome to.” Rory slipped into the seat across from her. “There is no one here to think poorly of you.”
“It would be inappropriate for me to eat without you. Your brother pays me to keep you company.”
Rory often forgot that Darla was an employee and not just a friend. It made her bristle when she was reminded of it.
“Sorry. I must have been more tired from the trip than I thought.”
“Perhaps it the battle you had going with Mr. Murdoch.”
Apparently Darla was in a chastising mood tonight.
“I wasn’t arguing with him.”
“Not out loud, but there was plenty of tension between the two of you. Something important must have happened while I was sleeping.” Darla paused. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“I already told you at the inn that there was nothing.”
“That’s what you said, but I know that’s not the truth. You can’t lie to me.”
Rory pressed her lips together, stirring her soup around in the bowl. It was true that Darla knew her well enough to make it impossible to hide things from her. If Darla could smell a hidden secret, she would not give up until she knew what it was.
“There was a moment when I suspected he might make an advance on me, and I convinced him not to,” Rory finally said, then started quickly sipping her soup.
“Advance? He tried to kiss you?” Darla sounded outraged. Even in the dim lamplight Rory could see her face turning red.
“No, nothing like that. He was just looking at me...with heat.”
“Heat?” Darla’s voice went up another notch.
“Desire. The kind of look a man gives a woman when he wants her.”
“How do you know about such a look?”
This was where the differences between Rory and Darla became more apparent. Darla often attended balls and social events with Rory, but she was always there as a chaperone, which meant she sat around the edges and watched the festivities. She never got to be a part of the fun. Not that she was never asked to dance, but she always refused. Darla always kept herself away from the world she didn’t belong to.
“Men can’t help it when they are in the proximity of a beautiful woman, and I am a beautiful woman,” Rory told her. “You learn to ignore it.”
“Even this time?”
Rory bit her lip. Clayton’s look had affected her much more than most of the men she had met in London. Normally when she saw that look in a man’s eyes, she felt revulsion or alarm, occasionally amusement. His look was different though. It made her heart race and her skin tingle. It made her want to move in closer and focus on the details of the man. It felt like a loss of control, and that was a very unsettling feeling.
“We were in a small space; I couldn’t avoid him. I didn’t want him to do something to cause trouble during the ride.” Rory avoided making eye contact.
“I feel like you are still leaving something out.”
Rory ignored the comment and focused on the second course that was brought out to them. It was some simple roast beef and potatoes. She wondered if the dinner choice was because the kitchen was in a bad state. She must remember to check that tomorrow.
“Stop trying to keep it from me.” Darla pressed her for an answer.
“I just felt it was better to put him in his place in the beginning.”.
“Oh.”
That one-word answer made Rory look up, and she found Darla grinning smugly.
“That’s the end of it.”
“I believe you.”
That smile was so irritating.
“What is so funny?” Rory asked.
“All these years, you have been cold toward any of the men who paid you attention. None of them got under your skin. Now look how flustered you are—and from a working man, no less.” Darla giggled, but there was nothing amusing about the situation.
“It was a temporary lapse in judgement. I corrected it before it went too far.”
“Thank goodness.”
Darla might be amused by Rory getting ruffled, but she would never want Rory to ruin her reputation. Rory exhaled as she was finally able to put the entire topic of Clayton away.
“I was much more productive with my afternoon,” said Darla. “I found your aunt’s office and discovered some very interesting letters in her desk.”
“You went through her desk?”
“Not intentionally, but I wanted to see if there was anything that might tell us about the house.”
“That’s an invasion of her privacy.”
“She can come back to haunt me for it.” Darla gave her a smirk.
“Fine. What did you find?”
Darla moved a stack of papers from the other side of her plate closer toward Rory. They appeared to be letters written in a variety of different handwritings. Rory glanced through them, but she couldn’t read them in such dim light.
“What do they say?” she asked, knowing Darla would have read them already.
“They appear to be letters from various people offering to buy the house from your aunt. It seems that she used to host balls and parties here, bringing in some of the wealthiest and most influential people in the country. Some of them were so impressed, they offered to buy the place.”
“Was she trying to sell it?”
“No, but they assumed a woman living here alone would want to move away.” Darla twitched her nose. “Apparently, they believed all unmarried women would want to go to London to find a husband. Most of them sounded like they were offering to save her from her own poor choices.”
“Men,” Rory said, and both women shook their heads. “Clearly, she didn’t want to sell; she died in the house. She must have turned down all the offers.”
“Yes, even though some of them were very generous.”
“She must have loved it here very much.”
It must have been much prettier when her aunt had lived here. Now it wasn’t much to covet.
“What happened to her here?” Darla’s question surprised her.
“A fever took her when she was in her forties. I remember my mother saying she was still too young to pass away.”
“One never knows when life will end.”
That wasn’t an uplifting sentiment. Considering her unpleasant situation, Rory would rather not think about that.
“Do you think any of those gentlemen might still be interested in purchasing the property?” Rory asked, her mind beginning to formulate a plan.
“Perhaps. Some of the letters seemed very aggressive.”
“I think we should entertain some of the offers, then.” Rory began looking at the letters more closely.
“You plan to just write them out of the blue? That might seem a bit desperate.”
“No, I would never be that foolish. I could invite them to visit. Host a small party like my aunt used to have. I will hold it in her honor. If I include these gentlemen on the guest list, perhaps they will approach the new owner with similar offers.”
“You want to host a party in this place?”
Rory knew the idea sounded mad considering it was in disrepair, but she knew they could fix just enough of it to make it look good to a lazy observer. It would be something they couldn’t do alone, but she knew where they might be able to find the help. “We will need to go to town tomorrow.”
“You mean...?”
“Yes. We will hire Mr. Murdoch to help us get the house in good enough shape to host the party. Then we can sell it for a decent profit.” Rory could almost feel the elation of financial freedom again. “That will be enough to get us back to London.”
“Will you be able to tolerate him long enough for this plan to work?”
“That will be the biggest question.”