“Would you like some wine?” she asked. “We brought up some particularly nice vintages set down when the good smugglers used to visit my friend’s aunt here.”
The man grinned, and that quickly his entire visage changed, white teeth and mischievous eyes and a posture that went from threatening to easy. Pip found herself blinking, wondering at the sudden change. She came so close to demanding to know if he was a Rake. There was just an insouciance about him that she had long noticed in many of the others.
“Are you certain we are not allowed to know your name?” she asked.
Suddenly she had Beau’s attention. “He is sure,” he said, sounding a bit petulant. “You are not.”
Pip just nodded and poured a glass of wine for the newcomer. “I assume that you do know my husband, however,” she said, handing over the glass.
“Thank you,” he said, accepting. “I do. And congratulations.”
She nodded. “You might as well save the energy until we know whether it will take or not.”
She got a quirked eyebrow from him. “I didn’t think marriages worked like that.”
Her own grin was far too wide. “Neither did I. Now, what is it we are supposed to be doing about our unexpected guests?”
The newcomer took a sip. “Leaving.”
She blinked. “We just got here.”
Beau motioned his friend to the servants’ table and sat down. Robbie scooted over. When Pip joined them, Beau frowned. When she flashed him as big a smile as she’d flashed his friend, he absolutely scowled.
“If I am to play a part,” she said, plopping down next to Robbie, “even only sneaking away in the dark, I must have the script. Now then, er….”
“Call me Nate,” the newcomer said, folding himself onto the bench opposite her. “We need to make a point of emptying out the house. What about saying you were only staying here a night and going on to Delamere.”
Pip topped up wine for the adults. “Not Delamere. Anywhere but Delamere.”
“His aunt and uncle are still there?” Nate asked her as if Beau weren’t sitting directly in front of him.
“They are. We do not get along.”
Nate nodded and took a sip of his wine. “Nobody does. That is quite nice,” he admitted, checking the bottle.
“Evidently, a tithe from the local gentlemen for use of that cellar. These, evidently, are not those gentlemen.”
“No,” Nate said. “They are not.”
“You know?” Beau asked.
“Even the lot down at the Lion and Bandit don’t know who they are.”
“They told the townspeople they would be leaving tomorrow or the next day,” Pip offered.
For a long few moments the only sounds to be heard in the kitchen were the soup bubbling over the fire and Joyful slicing bread. Suddenly Pip thought how hungry she was. It had been a long few days, and a long while since she had enjoyed her food.
“Can you provide us a messenger?” Beau asked his friend. “Tomorrow. Something urgent. Something not connected to the government.”
“Miss Knight—er, I mean, Lady Drummond’s father is home,” Nate said far too easily. “Would that suffice?”
Pip came to attention like a bird dog hearing wings. “My father? Not my mother?”
“And how do you know?” Beau demanded. “I don’t.”
Nate shrugged. “I have connections in shipping. And no, Miss Knight. Your mother was not with him.”
“Where would he go, Pip?” Beau asked.
