If she was afraid, or at least concerned, why did she not accept his offer to have footmen watch over the cottage or write to her brother?
Did she not realize how vulnerable she was living in this cottage with two older servants?
Did she honestly think that no harm could come to her?
When he stepped outside, Lucian found the manservant standing beside his horses, but at an angle that could not be viewed from the parlor windows.
“You are more concerned than Lady Weston, are you not?”
“Yes, but she will not allow us to write to her brother.”
The manservant stared him in the eye and waited for Lucian to answer an unasked question. “She told me the same,” he said. “However, Miss Weston has no control over my actions nor can she threaten to have me sacked for disobeying her request.”
“Stella and I were hoping you would understand the seriousness of the situation.”
“Has she really received almost a dozen of those notes?”
“Yes. None of them had said much and were simply odd. The concern is that they keep arriving and she cannot escape them.”
Lucian nodded. “I will write to her older brother immediately.” He stepped up and into the curricle. “She rejected my offer of footmen to assist in keeping watch, but I will instruct my gardeners and groundskeeper to limit their work to the estate that borders Greenhaven Cottage.”
“Thank you, Lord Garretson.” The manservant handed him the reins.
“If another letter is received, please let me know immediately, whether Miss Weston permits it or not.”
“Aye. I will, even if it costs me my position.”
Lucian didn’t think the man would be sacked, but if it did occur, Lucian would find a position for him at Wyndhill Park.
As he drove away from the cottage and toward home, Lucian found himself glancing around. Though if the person was close, they would keep themselves hidden. He thought over his visit to town but could recall few unfamiliar faces. He may have lived here all his life, and visited town frequently, but that did not mean he knew each and every resident. Though, he did know those who would.
Lucian first returned to the manor but did not bother to unhitch his horses and then went inside to pen a letter to Mr. Isaac Weston advising him of the letter Eliza had received, how it was addressed, and that she was being most stubborn. Lucian also assured her brother that he would keep a watch over the cottage and Miss Weston until further arrangements could be made for her protection.
He then sealed the missive and returned to his curricle and drove into town so that it could be posted. He then visited the alehouse where he knew the owner, and the inns, and inquired if any strangers had taken an interest in the town, or those who lived further out, or any place in particular.
There were plenty of strangers. Some stayed and others moved on, but they didn’t recall anyone asking questions.
Chances were, whoever this was, had followed Eliza and then watched long enough to know that she was living at the cottage. But, if that were the case, why did he wait so long to write to her? The wedding had been a little over a sennight ago.
When Lucian returned to Wyndhill Park, he issued instructions to the groundskeeper and gardeners as to where he wanted them to work until told otherwise and that they would also be watching Greenhaven Cottage for any unusual activity with the excuse that Miss Weston’s brother had a sudden concern for her residing there with only two older servants for protection.
As much asshe wished to be irritated with Garretson, Eliza was not.
It had been a sennight since the missive was received and nothing else had occurred, except the side of Wyndhill Park that bordered Greenhaven Cottage was receiving a good amount of attention from the gardeners. She would be surprised if there was a bush left to trim, a flower to be picked, or a blade of grass to be cut. She certainly hoped they did not intend to just work on one section of the estate while letting the rest go.
She was no fool and knew they were there to watch over her, even though it was not necessary. But it also kept her from being able to search another cave. Eliza was certain that as soon as she stepped out of the back of the house that they would note her progress and possibly report back to Garretson.
Blast! There must be a way that she could sneak out of the house without anyone being the wiser.
It would be something that she would put her mind to later, after she finished this chapter.
Eliza dipped the quill into the ink and started rewriting another page, careful in her penmanship, but before she could write more than a few lines the sharp pains shooting from the outside of her thumb and up to her wrist returned.
Eliza set her quill aside and stretched out her fingers. No doubt the discomfort was because she had been doing a good deal of writing this past sennight. Her hand was growing more painful each day and she simply had to stop so that it could rest.
When she was not writing, but researching or simply reading, Eliza had no difficulty with her hand, only after she’d spent hours and days with her thumb and fingers positioned around a quill or pencil. She also knew that if she tried to write more today, it would only grow more painful, as had been the case in the past. She now suffered from a stiff hand when she woke in the morning and experienced pain simply lifting a pot of tea until she’d stretched and loosened her hand. Experience had taught her that the longer she put off resting her hand, the longer the recovery until she could begin writing again, therefore she decided to step away from her novel for the rest of the day and hoped that there was great improvement tomorrow morning so that she could return to her work.
With a sigh, Eliza rose from her desk then used the double doors onto the terrace. When she stepped into the sun, she waved to the gardeners, who were only there to watch.
