Hayes would have liked, just then, to hit Grayson on the head with a nearby plate, though he hid the inclination. He was less successful at hiding a shudder over the mention of Miss Blaise and her ever-searching eyes. “You’re disgraceful,” he said, “I hope you know it.”
Lord Grayson shrugged. “And you—how has Lady Blakeley seen fit to describe you this year? What do you come as?”
“Carte blanche,” Hayes said stiffly.
He ignored Grayson’s laughter and downed his coffee. Had Miss Farnsworth really claimed he would take her into supper? It was impossible to know. Grayson might say anything to amuse himself. But what if she had?
In any case, the joke was shortly to be on Grayson. Neither of them would have the opportunity to divine Miss Farnsworth’s intentions this night, as the lady would be safe in her own house.
*
Though the daylighthours had not unnerved Lily, when the shadows grew long and the sun began its descent, she felt decidedly unsettled. Her aunt felt it too. They had eaten dinner quietly and attempted to keep to their habits, retiring to the drawing room as they would normally do on an evening in.
They’d had to tell Ranier a terrible fib—the note they had received from Lord Ashworth was purported to be news that Lady Blakeley’s kitchens had caught fire, the smoke damage was extensive, and the mask was off. Ranier had seemed disappointed that they would not be able to advertise Lady Blakeley’s high opinion of Mrs. Hemming and her niece, but he had not questioned the veracity of the story.
Ranier had lit the candles in their usual places near the windows, but without speaking of it she and Mrs. Hemming had moved them to the far side of the room.
Mrs. Hemming had instructed Ranier to ensure that the house was locked up tight. She told him she’d heard of a recent break-in only two streets away.
Dear Ranier, hearing of the offense, had thrown off his disappointment over Lady Blakeley’s kitchens afire and puffed out his chest in the most marvelous fashion. He assured his mistress that no criminal element would make it past the front hall whilehewas the butler. He even took two heavy silver candlesticks to the front doors, ready to clobber the brains out of anybody being so foolish as to test his mettle.
Lily and her aunt, being both assured of Ranier’s determination, had picked up their sewing.
The minutes had ticked by slowly. They did not speak much, and when they did it was in low tones. Lily was certain her aunt listened for some sound out of doors. Though she had not communicated her fear of a kidnaping or some other danger lurking about from Mr. Shine, she was sure her aunt thought just the same. Why else would Lord Ashworth tell them to stay at home? There must be some plot afoot that the lord could not see his way clear to protect them from if they had been on the streets, coming and going from Lady Blakeley’s house.
Though both Lily and Mrs. Hemming worked to appear as if all was as it should be, they gave it up before an hour had passed. Mrs. Hemming had suggested that Lily sleep in her bedchamber, the bed being of enormous size. Lily had hastily agreed—she’d no wish to be alone on such a night.
Ranier was convinced that both his mistress and Miss Farnsworth were terrified that the house would be broken into by dangerous low characters. He’d also had to deal with the housekeeper and the maids, who were a deal less calm than himself and frightened of being murdered in their beds. Pips had claimed she would sleepunderher bed, so that the murderous beasts who were bound to break in would find it empty for their trouble. This had set the housemaids wondering if they too should sleep under their beds.
That idea only lasted a moment, as somebody mentioned what they should do if a mouse were to crawl upon them. As far as anybody could tell, the housemaids regarded hardened housebreakers and adventurous mice as equally perilous. The footmen, at least, maintained some outward stoicism, though their bold claims to be ready to fell the criminals with one blow like any Gentleman Jackson were perhaps more wishing than fact.
Ranier took the further step of pushing a heavy desk across the foyer to block the front doors and he nailed shut the less sturdy wood door that led to the kitchen garden. He and the footman would sleep in the library, ever at the ready to leap out upon the housebreakers.
Lily had been grateful for Ranier’s care, and thought he seemed energized over the whole idea of overcoming thieves. Still, she was perhaps more comforted to know that some of Lord Ashworth’s men were out of doors somewhere. If Mr. Shine and some associates would dare something, she’d rather some hardened types leap upon him than her dear Ranier.
Now, she lay on one side of the massive four poster, listening to her aunt’s gentle snores. The house was quiet and she prayed it stayed that way. She must trust Lord Ashworth to direct them. And protect them.
*
Hayes had madean appearance at Lady Blakeley’s ball. It would already be remarked that Mrs. Hemming and Miss Farnsworth had begged off. It might be suspicious if he did too. It might be said that their absence had something to do withhismask, andtheircard game. He did not wish any circumstance to connect them all together in people’s minds.
He’d taken the early dances but was careful not to commit himself any further. He could only hope he would not be missed at supper. He especially hoped that Grayson did not think to joke that his friend had hoped to take in Miss Farnsworth and had left in a sulk over her failure to appear. His pistols and the money were packed in his panniers and one of his own grooms stayed with Horus to guard them.
When it was time, he’d slipped out to the terrace just outside of the ballroom, hopped over the low rail and made his way out, ripping off his mask and glad to be done with it.
As arranged, Freddy watched for him and led Horus and his own horse forward. Aside from the panniers on either side holding the money and the pistols, a great coat and a hat were thrown over his saddle. The weather was too warm for the overcoat, but it would conceal his weapons and have them at the ready. He nodded to the boy, mounted and set off, leaving Freddy to make his way home.
He was certain the groom longed to know the cause of this intrigue, and that there would be much speculation over it. That speculation would circle around the stables and then eventually creep its way into the kitchens before finally ending up on Cobb’s lap. When he returned to the house, he fully expected Cobb to greet him with raised eyebrows, though the man would say nothing of the matter. To the servants, Cobb would likely pretend he knew all about it, but could not reveal what he was privy to. While Cobb wasn’t looking, they’d debate it and eventually decide it was some sort of romantic assignation, likely with an irate husband lurking somewhere.
The streets were not desolate, there were plenty of people in carriages and horseback, and some on foot, going from here to there. Hayes pulled the brim of his hat low. London might seem a big place, but it was extraordinary how often one encountered an acquaintance. He did not wish to be seen on the way to this particular assignation.
He made his way into the park, vaguely uncomfortable with the quiet of it. It was more usually the scene of sunshine and crowds and the low hum of hundreds of people talking. Now, it was dark, silent, and empty. At least, it appeared he was alone. He could not know what sort of rogues lurked in the shadows. All he could do was make it clear he was not drunk. It was the drunken fool, swaying on his horse, that always presented the most alluring opportunity.
He stopped Horus and took the loaded pistols from his panniers. He carefully placed them in either pocket of his great coat. If there were a rogue lurking nearby, it would be well he noted that his hoped-for prey was not unarmed.
Mounting, he trotted Horus over a wide field, making his way toward the north side of the Serpentine. The meeting was to take place under a tall stand of trees just beyond the Cake House.
The building came into view, and the stand of trees beyond it. Hayes scanned the area for any sign of Shine, or the horse he might have tied up somewhere. He saw nothing. The night was still and not even the leaves moved. It felt more a painting than a living landscape.
