He spun, his frustration mounting. “What do you know about a mountain in the wilds of Scotland?”
“Been there when I was a lad. What are we watching?” Archer peered around him.
“Nothing,” Darius ground out between his clenched teeth.
Archer stepped around him and studied the barren gardens. “Obviously. I’m guessing you were on your way to the bathhouse?”
Was he? Yes, that was why he was out in the cold. He’d started for his cave when he made the mistake of looking back and saw Ellie. “Yes.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
He ignored Archer and started north. “I know the way.”
“As it happens, so do I.”
He didn’t want to talk to his gamekeeper. He didn’t want to talk toanyone.
Except Ellie.
His step slowed. He shook his head and forced himself to keep walking.
He entered the north wood and took the path toward the former bathhouse. If he didn’t know the building was there, he would have walked right into it, because no light shone from the windows and no fire crackled inside. It fit his mood perfectly.
“Here, you better let me go inside first.”
He started, having forgotten Archer was with him. The man walked on silent feet. “I’m not an invalid,” he snapped at him before opening the door and stepping inside. It was just as cold inside as out, but not as damp. He walked forward toward the fireplace where the tinder was kept and bumped into the settee. “Damn!”
“I told you to let me enter before you. I can see in the dark.”
He wasn’t sure if Archer meant his words, but also didn’t care. Feeling his way around the settee, he felt for the mantel and found it. Running his fingers along it, he found the tinder box, but he couldn’t seem to get it opened. “Worthless box.” He slammed it back on the mantel.
A chuckle came from in front of him as he scowled into the darkness.
The flint was struck and a tiny flame moved to a lantern, where it caught, and light shone on Archer’s face and onto the sitting area. “I would have had the place prepared if you had sent me word you were leaving.”
“Just light the fire, since you’re here.” Darius covered his cold ears with his hands. He could have started the fire himself, and had many times, but watching Ellie through her entire dinner had not helped his body heat.
Archer was not only expert but efficient, and by the time Darius’s ears had warmed, the fire was going tolerably well.
“Here.” Archer held out a glass. “It’ll warm you from the inside.”
Knowing Archer, it was probably whisky, but Darius didn’t care. He took the glass and threw it back. The burn did indeed warm his chest, but he grimaced as he handed the glass back. “That’ll burn your insides to ash.”
Archer lifted his glass high in salute. “That’s the whole idea.” The gamekeeper threw back his own glass before returning to the sideboard.
Darius took off his greatcoat and hung it on a hook by the door next to Archer’s. Then he sat down on the settee and managed to take off his boots.
“Here’s your brandy.” Archer held the glass out to him. “You might want to sip that.”
Darius scowled at what the man thought was humorous. “I know how to drink good brandy.” He took a sip and set it on the small table nearby.
Archer settled into the wingback chair with a larger glass of whisky. “The new Lady Ferncroft appears very different from the late Lady Ferncroft.”
Darius ignored Archer as he untied his cravat.
“She has the whole village abuzz with talk of St. Thomas Day. The word is she has issued an invitation to all the widows to come to the house.”
Darius had suggested she give the coin to the church to distribute, but she insisted on doing it herself and involving her friends. “She wants the many widows of our men who fought Napoleon to know they are not forgotten.” He dropped his cravat over the side of the settee, before picking up his glass and taking another sip. It was so much better than the whisky.
