“Oh, I know that. They can’t make me marry Mr Cumberledge, and I always meant to go back once I’d seen Mr Vergette.”
“Yes, but you don’t have to. Told him I’d see you safe and I ain’t handing you over to these vultures without a fight.”
Her heart felt as if it was being squeezed and Apple struggled to hold onto her resolve. She lowered her voice. “Could we go into Captain Edginton’s library for a moment?”
Still frowning, he nodded and turned to her cousins. “Must beg you to excuse us. Apple wants a word alone.”
Walter bridled. “So you and she may plot against us?”
“Or she’ll disappear again.” Marjorie seized Apple’s wrist. She flinched. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Lord Dymond.”
“Let her go, Miss Greenaway!”
There was so much menace in his voice that Marjorie did let her go. He jerked his head at Apple and moved to the window. She followed him swiftly and he spoke in a murmur. “Something you ought to know. Vergette assured me the trust has nothing to do with the winery. You’ve only to hold out until your birthday and he’ll tell you everything, he said.”
Apple heard this with considerable disquiet. “What do you mean, everything?”
Alex hesitated. Was he weighing up what he should tell her? “Seems the trust wasn’t even set up by your father.”
“Not by Papa? But…”
“He wouldn’t explain, but the whole thing is devilish mysterious, Apple.”
Abruptly apprehensive, those long-held doubts rising to the surface, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them,” said Alex. “Nor should you.”
“Good heavens, are you mad? I’d never hear the end of it.”
He grasped her hand and his touch sent a quiver running through her. “Apple, you don’t have to hear a word more from either of them. Swore I’d protect you until you’re your own mistress.”
“Yes, but Alex, you can’t,” she uttered, anguished. “You know you can’t. You’ve got to take Georgy to your mother. And you’re supposed to be there already to prepare for Christmas. I’ve delayed you too long as it is.”
“Don’t matter. Do you think I could rest easy knowing you were in the clutches of this pair? I’ll think of something.” In an agony of indecision, Apple unknowingly gripped his hand and he winced. “No need to twist my fingers off, young Apple.”
“Oh!” She snatched her hand out of his, goaded into a frantic whisper. “Alex, I don’t know what to do!”
“Then be guided by me, because I know exactly what you should do.” With that, he moved back into the room and faced her guardians, making his stand without preamble. “She’s staying.”
“What?”
“Apple, you’re coming with us!”
“No, she ain’t, Miss Greenaway.” Striding to the door, he opened it. “Berryman! Ah, there you are. Escort Mr and Miss Greenaway out, if you would.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” sighed Georgy.
From her stand by the window, Apple saw Marjorie looking nonplussed while Walter turned almost purple.
Marjorie recovered first. “You’ve not heard the last of this, Lord Dymond, I promise you.”
“Don’t doubt that.” Alex gave a mocking laugh. “Come, Miss Greenaway, time to admit yourself beaten. Nothing more you can do here.”
Walter bridled. “Ha! You think so, do you?”
Alex hardly spared him a glance. “I know so, Mr Greenaway. You’re trespassers in a private residence and we’ve plenty of servants on call to throw you out if you don’t take yourselves off.”
“What? What? You — you —”
