As he was leaving town, Lucian knew that he had to put his suspicions to rest so instead of returning to Wyndhill Park, he drove to Greenhaven Cottage. If she was writing at her desk as she said she was going to do, then he'd have to admit that he simply did not trust her without reason.
After he pulled in front of Greenhaven Cottage, he jumped down and tied the horses to a post and knocked on the door. A very startled maid opened it and her eyes widened upon seeing Lucian.
“Lord Garretson, we were not expecting you.”
“Would Miss Weston be available?”
“I…um… Let me see where she is.” The maid stepped back so that Lucian could enter. “If you would wait here, I will go in search of her.” She then disappeared down the corridor that led to where Eliza penned her novels, but turned opposite that door and into what Lucian assumed was the kitchen since the dining room was on that side as well, but closer to the front of the house.
He did not know Eliza all that well, but he was certain that she was not the type of miss who cooked.
Whispers drew him nearer the dining room where both maid and footman stood just inside the doors leading to what he assumed was the kitchen, which meant the maid had come nearly full circle.
Lucian ducked back out of sight and stood at the foot of the stairs and tried to listen to what they were saying, but they talked too quietly.
Either they did not know where Eliza was, or they knew and were trying to come up with an excuse that was not trespassing on his property.
“I will go find her,” the manservant finally said.
“Find who?”
That was Eliza’s voice.
“Why are the two of you whispering in the dining room?”
Where had she come from? Clearly, she had not been in the house or the manservant wouldn’t have decided to go look for her.
“Lord Garretson has come to call,” the maid answered.
“Has he?” Eliza stated in what sounded like pleasant surprise. “Please bring tea to the parlor.”
A moment later she swept into the entry and Lucian was taken aback by her disheveled appearance. Coppery ringlets fell about her face and neck, but not in an intentionally arranged manner. There was dirt on her cheek, her dress was dirty and there were scrapes on her hands.
“Where have you been, Miss Weston?” he asked. “I believe your servants were wondering the same, though I could not hear what they were whispering.”
“Exploring the wooded area behind the house,” she answered with a smile.
“Are you aware that the wooded area merges onto Wyndhill Park and curves around the lake that you are all too familiar with?”
Eliza’s eyes widened in surprise. “Does it?”
She was lying, though he had no evidence on which to base his conclusion.
“Why were you exploring the wooded area?”
Eliza blew out a sigh. “Am I to be interrogated each time you visit Lord Garretson?”
“No. I apologize,” he answered. If he constantly made demands, he would never learn the truth of why she had taken Greenhaven Cottage. “You are injured.”
Eliza chuckled and led him into the parlor. “Yes, well, I was imagining my heroine escaping a scary gothic castle, being lost in the forest after dark with only a full moon to guide her, when it could be seen through the trees, while branches and shadows reached for her, snagging her clothing and just like the heroine in my story, I tripped and fell, scraping my palms.”
Her explanation was reasonable, especially for an author of gothic novels.
Why the blazes was he so suspicious of her?
It was something he’d need to examine once he returned to Wyndhill Park. She was likely telling him the truth and Lucian would just need to learn to trust her.
“Do have a care, next time,” Garretson offered.
