Eva sent Pym to alert Mr. Greer and the militia. She sent Yeager to make sure Mr. Denby and Mr. Chance at the castle could see the fire from their vantage point. She hated waiting for news, but there was little else she could do. She and Patsy remained near the window, watching the flames climb higher until she could see the castle in their glow.
“How could this have happened?” she worried aloud.
“Someone’s playing a prank,” Patsy said. “Young folk thinking it’s all fine and good to hold a summer bonfire on the headland now that you and the magistrate have moved out of the castle.”
If only the reason was so innocent, but Eva couldn’t shake the fear that this was the work of their mysterious stranger.
Mr. Pym returned first.
“The militia are on their way,” he assured her and Patsy as he came back into the withdrawing room. “They didn’t even wait to don their red coats.”
“Did they at least take buckets, a water wagon?” Eva pressed.
“The village hasn’t needed one before now, miss,” Pym replied. “The last fire we had was at least twenty years ago. It was from a lightning strike on the hill above the spa, and it burned itself out before reaching any building. But never you fear, they have spades and wet cloth. That will have to do.”
Yeager took longer to return. “Stayed to help the militia,” he reported. “Took a bit for them to figure out how to work together, but they have it under control now. The fire was nearly spent when I left.”
She wanted to feel relieved. “What was the cause?”
His face darkened. “It was hard to see into the center of the burn, but it looked to me like someone had set the grass on fire.”
“Someone out to harm the castle?” Eva guessed.
As if she was just as concerned, Patsy cringed, but she stayed up with the rest of them until the glow from the hillside had subsided, and the smoke had melded with the night.
~~~
The next morning, Eva took her key to the castle to Jesslyn Chance for Mr. Denby to check the interior. The spa was nearly as ablaze as the hillside when Eva entered. Guests stood in groups, heads close together, and words like fire and danger hung in the air even above the sound of Maudie’s playing at the harpsichord.
“They sound worried,” Eva murmured to Jesslyn as she handed over the key.
Jesslyn nodded. “It’s not often we have such a disturbance here. But it will fade.”
As Eva turned to go, Miss Tapper intercepted her.
“Were you at the castle last night, Miss Faraday?” she asked, brown brows up. “I could see the flames from the Swan.”
“Terribly concerning,” her companion, Mrs. Baugh, agreed, large hands worrying before her spring-green gown.
“I’ve been staying in the village,” Eva assured them. “But I saw the flames too.”
Lord Featherstone strolled up to them. “Ladies, I would not be unduly concerned. Lightning strikes and the dry grass of summer conspire to start trouble. Wouldn’t you agree, Harris?”
The younger man had been following in his orbit like a moon a planet. He offered Eva and the others a smile as he joined them. “Of course, my lord. I see no reason for concern, particularly with the local militia to protect us.”
Eva realized the music had stopped a moment before Maudie squeezed into their group. “It wasn’t a lightning strike or dry grass. Are you afraid to name the true culprit?”
Miss Tapper smiled at her. “Trolls?”
“Pirates?” Mrs. Baugh suggested gamely.
Maudie frowned at them all. “No. French spies.”
Mr. Harris snorted, then turned the sound into a cough. “Forgive me. I must partake of the waters.” He hurried off. Miss Tapper and Mrs. Baugh excused themselves as well.
“What do you know, dear lady?” Lord Featherstone asked Maudie.
Eva held her breath, waiting for the answer.
“French spies started that fire,” Maudie insisted. “They can’t get into the castle, not with my Alex and Lark watching. So, they must alert their ships another way.”
Eva exhaled. It certainly made sense. Lord Featherstone must have thought the same, for he turned to Eva and asked, “When do you expect the magistrate back?”
“Not until Friday,” Eva told him.
“Then you must assist me,” he said solemnly. “I would not see the spa in such an uproar. It is not conducive to the civility Miss Chance works so hard to maintain.”
Maudie rubbed an ear. “It’s loud too.”
“What would you have me do?” Eva asked.
“Calmer heads may prevail,” he said, glancing around. “Speak to Mrs. Harding. If she is assured of her safety, it will go a long way to assure others. And do me the honor of escorting you to the assembly tonight. Seeing our magistrate’s lady enjoying herself will also shore up flagging spirits.”
Another offer of escort? No one in Grace-by-the-Sea except James and their staff knew the extent of her fortune or that she was even an heiress. How nice to be valued for what she might contribute instead of her father’s money.
“I would be honored, my lord,” she said.
She did not regret the decision. The assembly rooms at the top of the hill were shining with light as she arrived in her carriage. Lord Featherstone was waiting, resplendent in a black tailcoat with satin lapels and a silver-shot waistcoat. He was graciousness personified as he led her around the room, introducing her to spa guests she had not met and the mother and sisters of Jesslyn Chance’s betrothed.
Eva took an instant liking to Miss Rosemary Denby, the younger sister. She kept twirling a lorgnette before her saffron-colored gown, and when young Mr. North dared to ogle her through his quizzing glass, she ogled him right back through her glasses. He hurried off, cheeks pinking above his high shirt points.
“I must get one of those,” Eva said.
“It does come in handy,” Rosemary agreed, fingering the little square glasses. “And it’s useful for reading as well.”
Eva laughed.
She also danced nearly every set—with Lord Featherston, the Newcomers Mr. Donner and Mr. George, and Mr. Harris. She only wished James had been there to dance with her. She could imagine taking his hands, feeling his strength as he turned her. Standing out at the bottom of the set while he flashed her admiring looks. And perhaps, as they passed shoulder to shoulder, he might whisper something sweet that would bring a blush to her cheek.
“Go fetch Miss Faraday refreshment,” Rosemary told Mr. Harris when he led Eva back to her side. “Can’t you see she’s overset?”
That only made Eva blush all the more.
~~~
James reached Grace-by-the-Sea as the sun was setting on Thursday. He’d accomplished most of what he’d intended in London, including leaving a copy of the cipher at the War Office. The clerk Quill had told him to approach would not allow him to speak to more senior staff and had been noncommittal about who would review the cipher. One thing he was clear on, however: James need not expect an answer or involve himself further in any way. So, James did not tell him Mr. Carroll was working on the piece as well. The War Office had the responsibility to safeguard England. It was still James’s job to safeguard Grace-by-the-Sea.
As they reached the crossroads above the village, he directed Mr. Connors down the hill to the magistrate’s house. The coachman would have to unload his mother’s things before returning the carriage and horses up to the livery stable for keeping.
James had tried to explain the situation to his mother on the way, but she had persisted in taking the earl’s side.
“You mustn’t provoke him,” she’d said, hands worrying in her lap. “Your father always said so. You can be sure his father never provoked the previous earl. We owe the House of Howland everything.”
“And that loyalty cost you everything,” James argued. “Your family, friends, even your position in the village when the earl forced you to move to London.”
Her face puckered. “You never understood. I remember how you and your father fought over the matter. It grieves me to this day.”
It grieved him too, but for an entirely different reason. He’d grown up seeing his maternal grandparents sitting across the aisle in services, watching his mother give them no more than a nod in greeting. He had been eight when he’d first run across the street after dark to see them. They’d welcomed him, encouraged him, but always sent him carefully home with a promise not to tell anyone where he’d been. Howlands were not to associate with Turpins. He’d been fifteen before he’d truly understood why.
The earl was exerting his prowess, his position. His petty, cruel vengeance. From then on, it had been war.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Mother,” James had said as the city had fallen away and they’d driven toward the shore. “But we cannot allow him to dictate our lives. Were you happy in London? Did you enjoy trying to meet her ladyship’s least whim?”
“She isn’t so bad, most days,” his mother demurred, though she didn’t look at him as she said it. “And I have my own room.”
“You’ll have your own room with Eva and me as well,” James told her. “And a great deal more freedom. We all will.”
“But at what cost?” she protested. “It’s safer to acquiesce.”
“I’m simply no longer willing to acquiesce,” James said.
She’d turned her face to the view.
Now she gazed out at the house she had once called home as the carriage drew up before the door. “We’ll lose this too, you know.”
“I know,” James said. “But Eva has been looking for houses while I was away.”
She sniffed. “Eva this and Eva that. It seems you’ve just exchanged one master for another.”
He certainly hoped not.
Eva must have heard the carriage pull up, for she was waiting just inside the door of the house. She dropped a deep curtsey as his mother came inside. “Mother Howland, welcome home.”
His mother glanced around, lower lip beginning to tremble. “It looks just the same,” she murmured. “I could almost believe if I called, John would come out of his study to greet me. Oh, James, how can you give this all up?”
His gut tightened. “Because it is only a house, Mother. Being my own master is worth far more to me.”
Eva nodded. “And we hope to give you something better, something that will bring you equally warm memories. Do you recall Butterfly Manor?”
His mother regarded her with a frown. “Certainly I recall Butterfly Manor. I always thought it was the prettiest house on Church Street. My parents had the lease. You remember, James.”
“I remember, Mother,” he said.
Eva’s eyes gleamed. “Then perhaps you will be pleased to know that I’ve leased it for us all to live in.”
His mother waxed white, swayed on her feet, and James stepped forward, prepared to catch her and defend Eva’s choice.
But his mother didn’t faint. She rushed forward and enfolded Eva in a hug.
“Oh, my dear, dear girl! What a treasure you are! Welcome to the family.”
~~~
Eva felt warm all over as Mrs. Howland released her. She couldn’t remember her mother, her father had never had close female acquaintances, and the countess had discouraged familiarity. How surprisingly lovely to feel that a lady of maternal age approved of her.
“I’m so glad she liked the idea,” Eva told James after they had settled his mother in her room and returned downstairs. “Mrs. Kirby seemed to think you might object.”
“My family’s connection to Butterfly Manor is long and contentious,” he said as they sat in the withdrawing room by the fire. Pym came in to draw the drapes against the darkening sky. “But I’m hoping for happier memories now.”
Eva leaned forward. “And what of your trip to London? Did you achieve your goals?”
“Not exactly.” He turned his gaze to the fire, the red glowing on his cheeks. “I managed to extract Mother, but the earl and the countess think she’s on holiday. And the earl refused to listen to any idea that he might be mistreating you.”
“Only to be expected,” Eva commiserated. “And the settlement, the special license?”
“I located a young solicitor named Julian Mayes who was willing to draw up the necessary papers. But I decided against the special license. I realized if I go to the Archbishop, word would get back to the earl immediately. I secured a license from the local bishop instead on the way home. We can be married Wednesday or later next week.”
“That long?” Eva bit her lip.
“Already reconsidering?” he asked, turning to look at her as if he could see the thoughts swirling through her mind.
“No,” she said. “At least, not very often. And I suppose there’s still much to do.”
He nodded. “Not only for the wedding but to set matters to rights should the earl sever all ties.”
“I hope it won’t come to that, at least for your position. I understand Mr. Greer had some trouble leading the militia while you were gone.”
He frowned. “The militia was not to drill while I was away.”
“It wasn’t a drill. There was a fire on the hillside near the castle. Mr. Greer mustered the militia to fight it. No one was hurt. I had Jesslyn give my key to Mr. Denby so he and her brother could check inside. They found everything as it should be.”
“Good,” he said.
Eva regarded him. “Good? I thought you wanted the miscreant plaguing the castle to be captured.”
“I do,” he assured her, “but I would prefer to be involved in the process.”
A bit territorial, but she supposed he had that right after caring for the place all these years.
He pushed up from the chair. “I’ll go see to the castle myself before retiring. At least I can confirm that the earl hasn’t sent anyone else into exile.”
“Yet,” Eva predicted, rising as well. “Take Yeager or Pym with you.”
His brows went up. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine. Lark and Alex should be back on duty. Do not feel you must wait up.” With a bow, he left.
Eva walked slowly to her room. She could almost see the wall he’d put up at her questions. He had to be tired—four days to and from London meant he’d traveled from dawn until dusk. Why insist on visiting the castle?
Their mysterious stranger had been cordial to Maudie, and they had no evidence he’d disturbed anything inside the house, but, if he’d been the one to start the fire, he was far from harmless. Was it only his duty that forced James out of the house now, or did he suspect something more than he’d confided?
Despite his admonition, she did wait up until she heard the stairs creak. Then she slipped from the bed and tiptoed to the door to crack it open enough to peer out. He was entering his bedchamber down the way. He didn’t appear to be limping or nursing an arm, so he must be fine. She shut the door and allowed herself to go to sleep at last.
The next few days passed in such a rush she did not even have time to visit the spa. She reviewed the agreement Mr. Mayes had drafted and signed two copies. Yeager and Mrs. Howland served as witnesses. James mailed one copy to London to be filed with the solicitor and gave the other to Eva for her safekeeping.
“So you never need be concerned about your future again,” he told her.
They also signed the lease agreement for Butterfly Manor.
“Lord Peverell’s agent was quite pleased with it,” Mrs. Kirby said. “I expect a signed counter-copy returned shortly. You should be able to move in immediately following your wedding.”
Then there were the little details that went into planning a ceremony. Theirs was not a love match, but that didn’t mean it shouldn’t be memorable. Eva hardly intended to be married more than once.
“The vicar wanted to know how private we wished the wedding to be,” she explained to James as they were helping the servants by packing books in his study.
He cocked his head as if considering the matter. “If I was marrying at the behest of the earl, it would either be an ostentatious thing in London or my own sitting room with only the necessary witnesses in attendance.”
Eva made a face as she placed a book in the crate. “Well, I like neither of those. You are the village magistrate. They admire you—I can see it. We’ll wed in St. Andrew’s and allow anyone to attend.”
His mouth quirked. “Even Mrs. Tully’s trolls?”
“Well, perhaps not them,” Eva said with a smile. “And I imagine it might be terribly inconvenient for the mermaids, but they’ll simply have to make do.”
James laughed.
Now, that was a fine sound. She felt rather clever to have given him a moment of joy. Let’s see what could be done to make their wedding just as pleasant.
She and Maudie met for fittings of their gowns from the Misses Pierce, who allowed that the purple was rather fetching, particularly with the cream lace that edged the neck and short sleeves. Mr. Inchley, the grocer, agreed to cater the wedding breakfast, which was to be held in the assembly rooms. Mrs. Kirby offered to arrange for flowers to decorate the space. And James took Eva down to Mr. Lawrence, the jeweler, to select a ring.
“Choose whatever you fancy,” he murmured beside her ear as they entered. “I’ve money until the earl decides to discharge me.”
She could certainly have put it on her credit, as she should have more than enough to pay for any ring in the shop, but it had been a long time since anyone had assumed they would pay for her expenses. She came to stand by the counter, where the jeweler stood beaming over the tray of rings. He was a dapper fellow, with a trim figure and a curling mustache. His brown eyes brightened as if he couldn’t wait to see what she would select.
Eva picked up a simple gold band etched in the center with a heart. “This one.”
James nodded to the heavier, plainer version. “And that for me.”
Eva glanced back at him in surprise. “Do gentlemen generally wear rings? My father didn’t, but my mother had been gone for some years.”
He met her gaze. “We have a partnership, Eva. If you wear a ring, so do I.”
Warmth pushed up inside her.
“An excellent choice, Magistrate, Miss Faraday,” Mr. Lawrence said as she looked his way again. “Let me just take your measurements, and I’ll have these sized appropriately. They will be ready by Tuesday.”
“One more thing checked off the list,” Eva said as they left the jeweler’s. “Have you decided on your attendant?”
“I asked Captain St. Claire,” he said.
“The pirate?” Eva asked.
He stumbled then righted himself. “Pirate? Where did you…let me guess. Mrs. Tully supplied his occupation.”
“Yes,” Eva admitted as they started up the hill. “But I cannot argue with her. All that swagger and bravado seems too large for anything less.”
“He was a captain in the Royal Navy,” James explained. “A war injury forced him into seclusion, but it’s nearly healed now.”
“That’s not what he claims,” Eva told him. “He says his knee prevents him from ever sailing again.”
“A shame,” James said, and she wasn’t sure if it was Captain St. Claire’s supposed injury or his claim of such that inspired the comment.
She stopped as they reached the corner of Church and High Street. “I’ll leave you to your work. I must go up to the spa and speak to Maudie. I realized I don’t know whether she needs new gloves. I’ll see you at the house shortly.”
He inclined his head. “As you wish.” He started up Church Street.
And there was swagger enough for any lady to see. Such an impressive build, such a confident step. The black top hat contrasted nicely with the gold of his hair.
He was going to be her husband.
Once more she heard her father’s voice. You’ve purchased yourself a good one, Eva. Quite the bargain.
She shuddered as she started for the spa. She’d loved her father, but one of the reasons he’d done so well for himself was because he’d viewed every person, each activity, as a transaction. She could not see James that way.
Yet, how else was she to view this marriage? A partnership, he’d called it. And she’d held out hope that more would come. Now that he would be dependent on her for his income, would he ever learn to love her for herself?
No! She would not think of that, or she’d be tempted to call the entire thing off. At least by marrying James, she saved him and his mother from the earl. That had to count for something.
She stepped inside the spa, inhaled the clean air. The hint of lavender she remembered seemed fainter than usual, but perhaps that was because she’d walked more in the sea air. She should have a chat with Miss Chance, compare notes on how they were planning their weddings. Miss Chance was supposed to be something of a matchmaker, James had mentioned. She probably had all kinds of insights to share. And Mrs. Harding was always in the first stare of fashion.
Eva moved beyond the entrance into the columned space. The utter silence pressed in on her. Every wicker chair stood empty. The chessboard sat abandoned. The fountain was dry and lacked a single crystal glass waiting to be filled.
“Is anyone here?” she called. Her voice echoed.
A door in the far wall opened, and a gentleman stepped out. He was tall and well built, with a noble brow from which waved back warm-brown hair. As he came closer, she could see wise grey eyes and solemn lips. He was dressed in a tailored navy coat and buff breeches like a London gentleman.
“May I be of assistance?” he asked politely in polished upper-class tones.
“Where is everyone?” Eva asked. “Miss Chance, Mrs. Tully, Lord Featherstone and Mr. Crabapple, Mrs. Harding, Mrs. North and her son, Miss Tapper? And you can’t have hidden the Admiral.”
His smile remained pleasant, but it did not reach his eyes.
“Gone,” he said. “Apparently, they found my presence offensive. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Doctor Linus Bennett, the new director of the spa.”