“Holy hell, Logan. How do you do it?”
“Do what, exactly?” Turning away from the windows, he gazed at his friend who had taken up residence on the chaise.
“How do you get the same woman to faint at your feet twice? You must tell me your secret. Imagine the power I could wield at assemblies, musicales, by God, theballs. There would never be a dull moment if chit after chit landed in a heap at my boots.” He smiled around his mouthful of tart.
Logan couldn’t help it, he grinned. “No secret there. Simply smash their heads against a rock and then spend the next twelve hours browbeating and questioning them.” He pivoted to thewindows again, his shoulders and neck aching from the tension wrapping him in knots. Rubbing the base of his skull, he let out a heavy groan.
A sharp rap against the door jolted him. Alert and somewhat anxious, he turned. At his summons, Connors charged in, his face white. Catching his breath, the butler huffed, “Your Grace. Your aunt. She’s here.”
Cursing, he turned to Harry, who seemed to have been magically transported from the chaise to a wing-backed chair and was sitting straight as a pin. Stifling a grin, Logan straightened his already immaculate cravat. “This is turning into a disaster.” To Connors, he ordered, “See to my aunt’s things.”
Gathering his waning courage about him like a bulwark, he left the safety of his study and made his way to the pits of Hell. Reaching the ground floor, he entered the great hall and collided with his aunt’s penetrating gaze.
Petite, silver-haired, and formidable, Lady Mildred Dunham was a gale-force wind cleverly disguised as a summer breeze.
He braced for the storm.
Chapter Thirteen
“Dinner party?” Logan barely kept his voice even.
“Yes, a dinner party. You have been a naughty boy, Logan. All of England is converging on London for The Season, and you have closeted yourself away in the country. As your aunt, I will not allow you to fester in solitude.”
Mildred Dunham was the only sister of his late father. When his mother died, he had no women in his life to offer him love, gentle support, or a helpful shove in the right direction. His beloved aunt volunteered to take him under her very capable wing, closed her townhouse in London, and moved into the Manor. When he inherited the title, she packed up and left for her own estate in Buckinghamshire where she spent most of the year breathing down his neck, by way of bi-monthly correspondence, for great nieces and nephews.
“Aunt, now is not a good time for a dinner party.”
“Pish, posh. It’s never a good time for you to do anything social, Logan. The Hugheses have been your neighbors since before your birth. It would have been rude of me to stop by for a visit and not invite them to dinner.” Though her voice was mollifying, her pinched face and thin lips were anything but. “Besides, Monday is two days away, so you’ve plenty timeto prepare. On second thought, I will do everything. You can sit alone in your study and mope for all I care, but when Monday arrives, as it inevitably will, you’d better be at your most charming. No scowling, grunting, or hiding.” She spoke the last word with a resolute gleam in her bright blue eyes. She knew him too well.
His flustered mind on the woman upstairs in bed, he hoped he could explain the situation to his aunt in a way that would convey the need to cancel the dinner party.
“For the past few months, someone has been stealing sheep. Until last night the thief had slipped through my grasp.” His aunt’s challenging look turned to interest, she sat forward, and set her teacup on the table. Her lemon tart forgotten, she nodded, signaling him to continue.
“As I rode the southern pasture last evening, I spotted someone skulking about. She ran, but I apprehended her, and she has much to answer for. So, you see, aunt, it’s impossible to host a dinner party here when I am already hosting an investigation.”
Her silver hair twinkled in the sunlight as she nodded again. Her cornflower eyes never left his face as she rose from her seat, her hands clasped in front of her.
“Is she here?” she asked in a calm tone.
“Yes, but she is resting. She fainted this morning and hasn’t regained consciousness.”
“Fainted? What happened to the girl?” Her glare pinned him.
“During her apprehension she hit her head on a rock.” His aunt gasped. “This morning, as I attempted to question her, she became agitated and fainted.”
“Well, I should say.” Her petite body shook, her pale skin flushed pink, and her eyes flashed with wrath. “I am very disappointed in you, nephew. First you bludgeon the girl with a boulder, and then you badger her before she could recover.”Concern and curiosity wove themselves into an intricate expression so completely Aunt Mildred he wasn’t surprised to see it.
He stood, slid his hands over her arms, and smiled down into her dear face. “I had reason to believe she was a thief. When she ran, I did what any person would have done. Her injury is an unfortunate consequence, one for which I am sorry. In hindsight, questioning her so soon wasn’t the best idea, but I wanted answers. My eagerness for justice blinded me to her needs. I apologize.”
She swallowed, took a deep breath, and smoothed her fingers over her dark green morning dress. “I am glad you see the error of your ways, Logan, but the damage has been done. I understand the girl might be a thief, but until you know otherwise, she is aguestin your home. Your next step should be to apologize to the girl.”
Her nephew’swary expression turned to stone. His entire countenance turned dark, his black eyes hardened into an ebony shield. Mildred couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so saturnine. Heavyhearted, her love for him was that of a mother for her child. A spinster, she couldn’t have children of her own, but she’d taken Logan into her life, and didn’t regret a moment of it. But the boy she’d nurtured had grown into the man before her: his boyhood smiles gone, his laughter infrequent, and his heart hard.
“Aunt, she is not a guest, and as soon as I have a chance to find out what she knows, I will release her, or hand her over to the magistrate. Her guilt or innocence is in question here.”
“Take me to her.” She made sure her tone forbade argument.
He stiffened but bowed, then opened the parlor door. She followed him to the east wing, to a room five doors from his.
