Rose turned and walked away, her blue skirts trailing across the gravel. Sebastian noted the slight tension in her posture, the way she carried an invisible but heavy weight.
“Poor lass,” Thorncroft said. “Not been herself since returning from London. Something’s troubling her.”
Sebastian filed it away. Whatever pained Wentworth’s daughter might prove useful.
“Come along,” Thorncroft said. “Let’s get you settled in the bunkhouse.”
Sebastian tried to shove away the image of her tear-streaked face. He’d expected her to be haughty or cold. Instead, she inspired loyalty from the staff. And something else tugged at his heart. One he couldn’t quite identify. A sense of protectiveness? Impossible. She was an extension of his enemy.
As they walked toward the stone building, Thorncroft gave him more details of where he was to sleep and take his meals. Sebastian was to sleep in the groundskeepers’ bunkhouse with the other gardeners and eat with them. “The lads are a good lot, if not occasionally a little rowdy for my taste. You’ll know no unkindness. I do not tolerate hazing or tomfoolery.”
“Of course, sir.”
“I have my own cottage not far from the bunkhouse, but I take my meals with the lads. Mrs. Carter and her helpers are fine cooks. You’ll eat well here.”
Typical hours would start in the early morning and go into the late afternoon, but with breaks and meals to break up the day. He was toearn a modest weekly wage. Much less than he could make working for his brother, but money was not his reason for being here.
“The estate provides all your tools but not clothes,” Thorncroft said. “You’ll need sturdy ones. We’ll supply you with gloves and boots.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“This upcoming party’s going to be a madhouse. Mrs. Blythe says at least a dozen guests will be arriving for a fortnight stay, which means we’ll have to stay on our toes, anticipating needs, arranging tents and chairs for picnics, cutting flowers for Lady Rose’s arrangements. You’ll need to keep a steady head.”
“Whatever you need, I shall do.”
“This will be a trial, you understand. I’ll assess your work in a few weeks and decide if you’re worth keeping.”
“I’ll do my best to please you.”
“All right, then. Let’s get you settled in the bunkhouse. It’s nearly time for our midday meal. We’ll get you to work after that.” Thorncroft paused when they reached the door to the bunkhouse, turning to Sebastian. “One last thing. I assume you know to keep your distance from Lady Rose and Lord Wentworth. We should remain invisible to them.”
“Of course, sir.”
“This house party will bring chaos. Guests everywhere. Best keep your head down.”
Sebastian nodded. Inwardly, his pulse quickened. Chaos meant opportunity. He would observe, listen, and learn.
“I won’t disappoint you, sir.”
But as Thorncroft began outlining his duties, Sebastian couldn’t quite banish the memory of Rose Wentworth’s face. Elegant, sad, and haunting.
He reminded himself of the mission. The vow he’d made so long ago. The reason he was here.
And yet, her eyes stayed with him.
*
Between the snoringof the other men in the bunkhouse and his own restless thoughts, Sebastian couldn’t sleep. His first day at Wentworth Manor had gone well, but now his mind churned with plans and possibilities. Every creak of the building and shift from a bunkmate only heightened his alertness.
At last, he gave up. Moonlight poured through the small window, silver and sharp. Maybe fresh air would quiet his thoughts.
He dressed in silence, boots in hand to avoid waking anyone. Outside, the night air was cool on his skin, carrying the damp scent of earth and hay. Overhead, stars glittered across the sky like diamonds. He had seen them from trenches in France, from the deck of Channel-crossing ships, and from the window of his childhood room at Ashford Hall.
He meant only to walk the grounds, perhaps check on his horse, Tempest. But as he neared the stables, something caught his eye. A distant glow where no light should be.
Instinct took over, honed by years of war. He doused his lantern and melted into the shadows beside the stable wall.
Far off, near the disused storehouse at the edge of the property, a faint glow spilled from partially open doors. A wagon stood outside, its wheels thick with dried mud. The horses stamped and tossed their heads, restless. Men moved in and out with speed and purpose, hefting wooden boxes with practiced ease.
