Page 40 of A Rogue at Stonecliffe

“Like what?”

“Like a document. I was expecting something more like a letter.” He shrugged and tucked the slender book inside his jacket. “Whatever it is, I think that we have exhausted all possibilities here. We should go back, I suppose.”

“Yes. We’ve been gone longer than I expected. Grandmother will be furious. I told Cartwell where we were going, so she won’t be worried.”

“But she certainly won’t be pleased.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

NATHAN WAS IN the drawing room with Lady Lockwood when Sloane and Annabeth returned. Annabeth felt suddenly swamped with guilt. You didn’t do anything wrong, she told herself. But her actions themselves didn’t really matter—she knew the emotions that had been swirling inside her just from being in Sloane’s presence.

“I was surprised Sloane and Miss Cole weren’t here when I arrived,” Nathan said. “But I suppose you were all off searching for this mysterious document. Where is Miss Cole, anyway?” He looked past Sloane and Annabeth.

“That impostor went off to see their ‘spymaster.’ There was a break-in last night,” Lady Lockwood answered before Annabeth could stop her. “I would’ve told you that straight away if you’d asked instead of dancing around the subject and making inane small talk.”

“A break-in!” Nathan goggled at her. “What? Someone broke into this house?”

“Nice of you to mention that to me.” Sloane glowered.

“I didn’t plan on mentioning it to anyone at all.” Annabeth frowned. “It was all over in a matter of moments. Grandmother whacked him with her cane.”

“That would be enough to send anyone running,” Sloane said.

“If only you’d told me that years ago.” Lady Lockwood turned a jaundiced eye on him. “I’d have tried it out on you, happily.”

Nathan let out a gurgle of laughter. “I’d like to see that.”

“Petunia helped. She’s a fierce little thing, when it comes down to it.” Annabeth smiled.

“My boots are ample evidence of that,” Nathan said wryly. He went to Annabeth. “Are you all right? Were you hurt?”

“No,” Annabeth began, but Lady Lockwood interrupted with a thump of her cane.

“So, Rutherford, what do you intend to do?”

“Do?” Sloane echoed.

“Yes, of course. About all this.” Lady Lockwood waved her hand in a vague gesture. “Thieves and vagabonds popping in and out of the house at will.”

Annabeth took pity on Sloane and said, “We don’t really know that he was a vagabond, Grandmother. He may very well have a home in London.”

“You know what I mean,” Lady Lockwood said. “Kidnappers, scoundrels, lurkers, mountebanks, and robbers. People playing masquerade in my own house. It’s scandalous.”

“There is always Bath, as I have suggested to Annabeth,” Sloane told Lady Lockwood.

“I’m not going to Bath,” Lady Lockwood said with finality. She sighed. “I can see this is going to take some time. Since you’re here, you might as well sit down and have some tea.” She waved her hand at the tea cart.

Annabeth was pouring a cup of tea when the butler appeared in the doorway, Russell Feringham beside him. “Mr. Feringham, my lady.”

“Uncle Russell! What a nice surprise.”

“I heard there was a commotion this past evening, and I wanted to inquire as to your welfare and see if I could be of any service—”

“Humph,” Lady Lockwood said. “Be that as it may, it’s unfashionably early in the day for a call, isn’t it, Feringham? What if what we needed was to sleep in after our ordeal? Not that it would have mattered with these young men calling on Annabeth at the crack of dawn. Everyone knows Sloane has the manners of a house mouse, simply coming and going as he pleases. But one would hope Mr. Dunbridge would be better behaved. Unfortunately he apparently lives here.”

“Now that we’ve finished this discussion of proper manners, can we please return to the subject of the break-in?” Sloane raised his eyebrows.

At that moment there was the sound of voices in the entry hall. Lady Lockwood scowled at the open door of the drawing room. “Now what?” As the voices came nearer, she sighed. “It’s Martha and Edgerton. Obviously everyone has decided to plague me this morning.”