Brogan stood. “You won’t mind if I ask around.” He didn’t make it a question. Lord Snowdon was a careless man who did nothing he didn’t have to. Before Brogan left, he would be satisfied there was no danger at Bluff Hall.
“Well, I don’t—”
“Thanks. I’ll be back for that bank note.” And ignoring the other man’s sputters, Brogan strode from the room. From the cook he discovered that there were only four servants, not counting herself. Two maids, and two men who took care of the animals and acted as footmen. The lord hadn’t yet hired a new secretary.
He also discovered that her buns were, in fact, delicious. So good he wondered that Juliana wasn’t still down here eating them up.
The maids seemed like good lasses, happy in their employment. One of the men was soon to be married and needed the job. The other just seemed bored, content to do as he was told but taking on no extra work.
All in all, no one who would have a motive to harm their master.
Brogan stood on the front lawn, staring up at the second story windows. Juliana’s bedroom was up there. He should probably ask to speak to her, tell her what he’d found. Nothing.
Instead, he turned his feet toward the agency’s carriage.
His driver stretched from his spot underneath a willow tree and lumbered over. “Off to London, sir?”
“Yes.” Brogan looked back at Bluff Hall. The sun glinted off the front windows. Ivy climbed up the white walls. All in all, a cheerful picture.
A sliver of dread wedged in his gut.
He sniffed. It was Lady Juliana’s doing, filling his mind with unfounded suspicions. Yanking open the carriage door, he climbed inside, slamming it behind him.
He pounded on the ceiling, eager to be away. He’d done his job, and kept his promise to the lady. He had nothing to feel badly for.
He stretched his legs out, kicking the blanket-wrapped bundle underneath the seat opposite.
“Ouch!” The bundle shifted.
Brogan’s stomach twisted. He bent over and yanked the edge of the blanket toward him.
Dark hair spilled across the floor. Juliana pushed a hank off her face and peered up at him, blinking.
“Good afternoon,” she said, with the dignity of a princess instead of the stowaway she was. “I don’t suppose I could have a ride back to London?”
***
His face went grim, or at least grimmer than usual. He clenched his hand, and for a moment, Juliana thought he would pound the ceiling, order the carriage to turn around.
But Brogan Duffy sat back in his seat and merely said, “Explain,” through clenched teeth.
She kicked her way free of the carriage blanket and crawled from her hidey-hole. Truly, her actions should be self-explanatory. Mr. Duffy knew she did not wish to spend even one night at Bluff Hall, and this was her way of escaping. But instead of an explanation, what Duffy needed was areason. A reason he shouldn’t turn her out of his carriage this instant.
She settled herself across from him, smoothing hair back away from her face and shaking out the wrinkles in her gown. “You have completed your job.” She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. From the way the corners of his mouth drew down further, it didn’t have the effect she’d hoped it would. “You safely delivered me home. There was nothing in your contract about ensuring I remained at home, though. Was there?”
After a tense moment, he shook his head.
She spread her hands wide. “There. You have done your duty and received compensation, and now you are free to escort me back to London. A mutually satisfactory outcome. Besides…”
He narrowed his eyes. “Besides what?”
She ran her palm over the carriage seat. The leather was cool and soothing against her skin. “As soon as I stepped through the front doors, the walls of Bluff Hall started to close in upon me. It felt suffocating. Something isn’t right in that house. I don’t want to be there.” And she loved that house. Loved her comfortable rooms, her stacks of books next to her window seat. But the past few months had transformed that love into dread.
She swallowed. “And now that my father has gone, I don’t even have to feel guilty about leaving.”
Brogan’s face softened. “It’s not your job to protect your father. You have nothing to feel guilty for.”
She nodded, but inside, she knew. She should have stayed with her father. She’d let fear sway her judgment. Convinced herself she would have a better chance discovering who was behind the attacks when she wasn’t under threat herself.
