“A mistake,” Samuel acknowledged softly. He noticed that Brigham seemed about to say something, but that an almost imperceptible nudge from Nathan stopped him. “Do you men have anything to say for yourselves? No? Lydia? There’s more you want to say?”
“Only that I was the object of some rivalry between them, Papa. Whatever their interest, it wasn’t me…not really.”
Samuel indicated both men with a slight movement of his gun. “Well, since you seem to have worn out your welcome, if indeed you were welcomed at all, you had better take your leave.” He raised his eyebrows in question at Lydia. “You had something particular in mind, Daughter?”
Lydia nodded. “The window, Papa. I was going to ask them to leave by the window.”
Now Brig spoke up. “I hardly think that’s necessary, now that our presence is no secret. I’ll leave the same way I came in—through the door Lydiaopenedfor me.”
Samuel raised his weapon and pulled back the hammer. “Not just yet, I think. Lydia, Mr. Moore’s made a good point. Their presence is certainly no secret now. Was there some other reason you wanted these men to use the window?”
“Yes, Papa.” Her features were serene, her smile beatific. “I asked Mr. Leeds to fertilize and mulch the flower beds today, especially the one just below my window.”
From the hallway there was a burst of laughter. Samuel ignored it while Madeline slammed the door in the face of it. “You mean,” Samuel said, “that just beneath your window is a load of fresh manure?”
“Very fresh. And lots of it. I specifically asked Mr. Leeds to see to it.”
Brigham’s anger exploded. Color mottled his complexion. The boyish features that were so handsome in repose were contorted with rage. “Damn you! I will not be humiliated at your whim.”
“That’s quite enough, Mr. Moore,” Samuel said. “I think you’ll gracefully take the exit my daughter’s left you or you’ll go out the door in a pine box. I won’t have any trouble gathering witnesses to say I shot a thief. You are a convict, after all. I doubt there will be much of an inquiry.”
“Damn all of you,” Brig said softly. His eyes rested briefly on each of the Chadwicks before he turned abruptly and stalked to the window Lydia indicated earlier. “You coming, Nath?”
“In a moment.”
Brigham threw up the sash. The sweet pungent odor of manure was like a slap in the face. Until that moment he had hoped Lydia was bluffing. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder as he climbed over the sill. Madeline’s features were rigid, her face drained of all color. What he remembered most as he jumped was that she made no real protest to stop it from happening.
Inside the room the occupants heard a thud as Brig landed. His curses followed immediately. Nathan waited for Lydia’s smile to fade before he spoke. “You’ve had your moment,” he said. “I can even find it in me to applaud that lion’s heart of yours, Lydia. I wish I could believe that you fully understood the nature of the enemy you’ve made this day.”
Lydia shivered under the strength of his piercing glance and stepped closer to her father. “Are you threatening me?” she asked.
Nathan shook his head. “Warning you.”
There was no scandal.None. Members of the household staff remarked on the events of that night among themselves, but never breathed a word beyond the granite walls of the mansion. Madeline took to her room for most of the day, but when she emerged it was as if nothing had ever happened. Lydia was confined to her room for three days—for her protection, her father said; for punishment, her mother said—and when she joined her parents again, not even marginally repentant for what she’d done, her father hired a bodyguard. Samuel alone dwelled on Nathan’s parting words.
“You’ll come with me, won’t you, Pei Ling?” Lydia asked, getting up from the table where she’d eaten breakfast. “I don’t want to go to Madame Simone’s alone and Mother has a headache this morning.”
Pei Ling began clearing away the dishes and handed them to the downstairs maid. “You not go alone,” she said. “Mista Campbell go with you. You forget already you have company wherever you go?”
She thrust out her lower lip and sighed theatrically. “I wish I could forget. Papa has clearly taken a notion into his head and won’t let it rest. Perhaps if you spoke to him.”
Stricken, Pei Ling quickly shooed the other maid away. She could not meet Lydia’s eyes.
Lydia was immediately contrite. They had never spoken of Pei Ling’s relationship with Samuel, each preferring to believe the other did not know the exact nature of the liaison. “Of course you can’t talk to him about it,” Lydia said. “It was stupid of me to ask. I did not mean to presume on our friendship.”
“I already speak to Samuel,” Pei Ling said softly. She raised her dark, almond-shaped eyes to Lydia. They were old eyes in a young face. “I tell him I think he right. Mista Campbell good idea. You wound pride of men that night. Not so easy for men to forget. I happy Samuel hire man to watch you. I do most anything in world for you, Miss Liddy, but I not do this.”
“I understand,” Lydia said softly. She touched Pei Ling’s satin sleeve. “Tell me, do you love my father?”
“Only one person I love more,” she said. “You give me everything, Miss Liddy. My life and my love.”
Lydia wondered if her father knew the depth of Pei Ling’s feelings, and if he did, did he return them.
“You need anything else?” Pei Ling asked.
“What? Oh…no.” She came out of her reverie. “No, there’s nothing else. I suppose I shall go to my last fitting with Mr. Campbell in tow. I wonder if those spindle-legged chairs in Madame Simone’s salon can hold him?”
George Campbell faced the prospect of going to Madame Simone’s with admirable stoicism. At least that was Lydia’s evaluation of his impassive demeanor. She did not find him particularly expressive in manner or conversation, and the ride to the salon was like every other time she was in his company: silent. She noticed his pale blue eyes darted constantly, taking in everything around him and rarely lighting on her except to assure himself that she was still in his presence and unharmed.
