“Until my aunt returns, I’ll help in any way I’m able.”
“It’s a gentleman, my lady.” Senga spoke softly and cast a wary gaze at the closed door behind her. “In there,” she whispered, jerking her thumb toward the paneled wood.
“An intruder?” That same shiver of foreboding that Mr. Nichols had caused crept over Lucy’s skin.
“Of a sort.” Drummond’s voice was so grave and serious that Lucy began to wonder if someone had come to harm.
“You have him locked in that room? Has anyone sent for the authorities?”
“Aye, he is, and nae, we havnae,” Mr. Drummond said stridently, as if expecting to be chastised for those decisions.
“Is he dangerous?” Lucy realized that might be a question they couldn’t answer. Nichols had taught her that determining the danger a man posedwasn’t an easy thing to ascertain on sight alone. Mr. Pembroke was tall, imposing, dangerous in his appeal if nothing else, and yet Nichols had initially struck her as unassuming.
“A danger to our very livelihoods.” A young red-haired girl who’d yet to speak stepped forward.
“And who are you?”
“Name’s Mary, m’lady.” The girl offered a wobbly curtsy. “One of her ladyship’s housemaids.”
“I’m not sure I understand. The man’s not dangerous and yet you fear for your livelihoods?”
“We’re nae sure he is who he says he is at all,” Drummond grumbled solemnly.
Lucy frowned. The staff all seemed unsettled, and their actions didn’t seem to add up, which only served to heighten her curiosity about the man they’d confined in the drawing room.
“I’d like to speak to him,” Lucy told Mrs. Fox. “Has anyone tried speaking to the man?”
“We did converse with him briefly,” Mrs. Fox said defensively. “Drummond may have overreacted.”
“The key, please.” Lucy held out her hand, palm up.
The housekeeper shot a look at the butler, who turned a nod toward the young housemaid.
The girl stepped forward and offered Lucy the key. “See fer yerself, m’lady.”
Lucy took the key, and slipped it in the lock before allowing herself to pause and ponder what sort of man might be on the other side. Drummondapproached, and Mrs. Fox stepped closer, as if she intended to accompany her inside.
Lucy pushed the door open, and warmth immediately spilled out. In a blink, she made out firelight, a great hound who lifted its head and turned to look her way, and a man sprawled on a settee far too small to contain him.
He looked more exhausted than dangerous.
“What exactly did he do?” Lucy whispered to Mrs. Fox, who’d moved in to stand behind her.
“Showed up like the king himself and claimed he owns the lot of it.”
“The lot of what?”
“The entire house and anything in it that belonged to the old earl. Says he’s the Earl of Rossbury’s heir. His nephew.”
Her aunthadtaken up with an earl. Lucy had heard those rumors. He’d been an Englishman, but Lucy hadn’t heard that he’d died, and she hadn’t realized Invermere was his house rather than one her aunt had purchased outright.
“So the manor is his?” Lucy whispered.
“Aye,ifhe’s the new earl,” Drummond said in a tone of thorough distrust.
Lucy crept closer. She was beginning to worry her aunt’s staff had done the man some sort of harm.
Firelight painted the edge of his face in a warm glow and Lucy covered her mouth to stifle a gasp.
