Page 19 of Duke of Sapphire

“I daenae want to be sensible,” Ian said. “I’m fine up here.”

Henry looked at the adults beside him. The steward had gone a shade past red into something approaching purple. The housemaids appeared to be communicating their sympathies entirely through their eyebrows. Mrs. Wick was watching Henry as one would watch a new gambit failure in a game she had been losing for weeks.

He recognized defeat when it looked at him.

The grey-haired woman touched his arm. “Your Grace, if I might have a word.” She drew him a few paces aside, and he went. “I have been managin' the household since the accident.”

“Yes.” He had expected her, or someone like her. “How long has this been happening?”

“A matter of weeks.” She lowered her voice and uttered, “Since the master and mistress disappeared.” Then, the lady jutted her chin at the young lad. “He mounted the roof first, then the hayloft, then the old garden wall. Before that, it was disappearing into the grounds for hours without a word to anyone. He willnae sit at the table. He willnae take his meals properly. The last tutor left after three days.” She glanced back at the roof. “He is nae wicked, Your Grace, I want you to ken that. He is nae cruel. He hasnae broken a single thing. He simply—” She searched for the word. “He willnae be reached.”

“Has anyone told him directly what they know of his parents’ situation?”

“I told him there had been an accident. That his mam and his da had nae been found, but that we were searchin’.” She pressed her lips together. “He listened very carefully. And then he climbed the hayloft and wouldnae come down for a day and a half.” She looked at Henry. “He doesnae believe they are gone. The lad is quite certain they’re comin’ back. And nothin’ I have said has made any impression on that certainty whatsoever.”

“I see.”

“He is a good boy,” she said again. “He just—” She looked tired. “I daenae know what else to try.”

Henry nodded once. He looked back at the roof. Ian had stopped swinging his legs and was watching him instead, with the calm, patient attention of a child who has learned to wait people out.

He turned toward the carriage.

Lady Charlotte was standing near the wheel, arms folded, watching the roof with an expression that indicated she was working something out and had decided not to say her thoughts aloud yet. She had been standing there the entire time, he noted. Still. Observing.

He walked over, Mrs. Wick following.

“There is someone I would like you to meet,” Henry said to Mrs. Wick. “Lady Charlotte is traveling under my protection. She encountered some difficulties and shall temporarily stay here.” He looked at Lady Charlotte. “Mrs. Wick manages this household.”

Lady Charlotte gave Mrs. Wick a nod that managed to be both respectful and entirely natural for someone who had been dressed as a valet’s assistant for the better part of the week. “I am grateful for any assistance,” she said.

Mrs. Wick looked at her for a moment with the sharp, measuring quality of a woman who had kept a Scottish household together by noticing everything. Then she said, quite kindly, “Come with me, then. We’ll get you settled and that ankle seen to.”

“It is much improved,” Lady Charlotte said.

“Aye, I can see that,” said Mrs. Wick. She looked at Henry. “I’ll attend to your guest, Your Grace. The steward will take you to the study when you’re ready.”

She guided Lady Charlotte toward the manor steps. Lady Charlotte went. She was limping slightly.

He noticed.

“You will be fine,” Henry said in a low tone before she had gone three steps.

She glanced over her shoulder. “I know that. I am simply annoyed about the stairs.”

“There are twelve of them.”

“I counted.”

He watched her go. Then he turned back to the stable roof, and to Ian, who was still sitting exactly where he had been, legs still dangling, watching with those dark, assessing eyes.

The plan had been very well organized.

It was already in pieces.

“Is he still on the roof?” Henry asked an hour later, after he had reviewed the household accounts and determined all was as it should be.

“No, Your Grace,” Mrs. Wick replied. “He came down a while ago and is in the kitchen garden.”