“Are you?” Jack’s gaze dropped from her comely face to her breasts pressed against the thin material of her nightgown. “Well, then…”
Below in the courtyard, a coach clattered noisily through the archway, raising the dogs. Loud voices erupted in the still, night air. A woman cried out.
“What the devil is going on?” Jack opened the window wide and leaned out. Four people alighted from the sumptuous coach. Two women stood by the vehicle as a man who appeared to be sick or hurt was hefted out by the coachman and half-carried toward the inn.
Jack snatched up his clothes from the chair, donned his shirt and breeches, then sat to pull on his boots. “I suggest you return to your room, Miss Callie. The proprietress might have need of you. Wouldn’t do to be seen here.”
Callie backed away to the door with a huff of disappointment.
“But thanks for the offer,” Jack added with a wry grin.
She grinned back. “Are you staying long?”
“I leave in the morning.”
“A pity.” She pouted then hurried out.
Throughout the inn, doors began to open, and guests crowded into the corridor from their rooms. Jack buttoned his coat as he went, descending the stairs, where sobbing echoed out from the parlor.
*
Erina rode intothe stable block. The straggly group of houseguests she’d escorted through the wood had wandered off to view the lake. She threw the reins to their groom, Joseph, and jumped down.
The house party had begun on Thursday. It was now Sunday, and as the weather remained pleasant, few seemed intent on departing. Mr. Harold Feather had told her he planned to accompany Miss Beckworth to view the rose garden, which was still a long way frombursting into full bloom. He was doing his best to ignite some passion in Miss Beckworth, Erina supposed. She wasn’t confident he’d succeed. At the ball last evening, he had danced twice with her, while she’d barely smiled, and once with Erina. It had earned Erina a sharp rebuke from her father as she’d gone up to bed in the early hours.
“I have no control over Mr. Feather, Papa, should he prefer Miss Beckworth’s company to mine.”
“Who invited the Beckworths? They were not on the guest list. Mr. and Mrs. Beckworth are of damnably inferior stock.” He stared accusingly at her. “Did you have some hand in it?”
“Mr. Feather expressed the wish for her to be invited.”
“Did he now? If I’d known, I would have told you not to invite them.” He raised his eyebrows. “You are not trying hard enough, my girl.”
“Love is not something one can conjure up. Or desire, for that matter.”
“That is nonsense. Desire does not come into it. I expected you to be smarter than this, Erina. You have always had a good head on your shoulders.”
Suspecting he wanted to see her secure because he could no longer provide for her, she put a hand on his arm. “Perhaps I don’t wish a secure and passionless life.”
“You’re young. You understand nothing about life.”
She raised her chin. “I believe I know my own heart.”
“Sir Ambrose awaits me in the library. I’ll see how the land lies. If you must be forever on horseback, have the good sense to take Feather with you.”
“He’s not over fond of riding. Said he was seldom off a horse’s back when in the army.”
“Then show him the maze.”
She had a terrible urge to giggle. Did her father wish her to seduce Mr. Feather in the maze? It was overgrown and very damp. Shewrestled control of her emotions, which threatened to overtake her. “If it’s fine, we’ll hike up to Hangman’s Hill. There’s a marvelous view of Epping Forest from there.”
“Good. Go to bed. Get some beauty sleep.”
The next morning, Erina rose earlier than she cared to. Whilst most ladies were still abed, she waited for Mr. Feather at the bottom of the stairs, confident he would be down for breakfast, having confessed to being an early riser. As soon as he put a foot on the hall tiles, she herded him into the deserted library.
“Goodness, but you are lively, Lady Erina.” He straightened his coat. “Can’t a man get some sustenance into him before he has to face you?”
“How are you progressing with Miss Beckworth?”
