Page 24 of Lyon on the Loose

As he waited in the former inner bailey of the castle, a chill wind howled through the open gates, making him draw up his collar. Glancing up at the sky, he saw it was gray and heavy with rain. The clouds in the distance were darker still, and he thought he saw a flash of lightning at the farthest edge of his vision. Curse it! He shouldn’t still be at the castle—he needed to get back to his lodgings and claim his possessions. Including his multi-caped coat for keeping the rain off.

Hugo reappeared. “That’s settled. You’re joining us for luncheon, Mr. Cowley. Tell me, have you ever been down a mine?”

“There aren’t too many of them in Norfolk, where I was born. Although there are some deep shafts in a place where I believe the Romans once dug for flints. I’ve never been down them.”

“Mines are fascinating. You can’t imagine the variety of colors that one sees down there—it isn’t all just coal black, you know. The dining room’s just through here.”

“What’s that about colors?”

Lissy’s voice. Heat puddled in Roland’s chest as he turned around to bow and give her his best smile. It was ignored.

“Lissy. Mr. Cowley is joining us for luncheon.”

“Mr. Cowley.” She acknowledged his presence with the coolest of nods.

The two ladies were seated first, and Roland found himself ushered into a seat opposite Lissy. Fortunately, Lady Ashby seemed inclined to talk, which meant nobody else was required to. This was a relief to him, and no doubt to Lissy as well, as he could feel the anger emanating from her. He knew she would have difficulty keeping the vitriol out of her voice if she were forced to converse with him. Just as he would have trouble keeping the longing out of his.

Longing? Since when had he developed a longing for Miss Felicity Ashby? His body ached for her, certainly—especially after that kiss. But there was an unfamiliar pain around his heart, and he knew there was something more than physical attraction between them. The feeling was new, raw, and hurt like hell. He was going to have to be very careful in her presence.

“What do you say to that, Cowley?”

Roland failed to respond until he felt a sharp kick on his shins.

“I beg your pardon?” He had temporarily forgotten his alias.

“I said, I shall show you the tunnels after lunch. Then I’ll run you back to Woodbridge in the carriage. You won’t want to go by carrier—it looks like it’s going to rain. We can bring your things back forthwith and get you settled into the coach house by nightfall. How does that sound?”

Roland was aware of Lady Ashby’s regard. When she nodded her approval, he smiled and thanked Hugo for his offer. This was a novel situation for him, requiring either patent or tacit approval for his actions. Although Leo had been instructing him in how to run Brampton Hall, he’d never been an employee before.

He risked a glance at Lissy, wondering how she’d feel about him living under the same roof. She was stabbing a slice of ham on her plate, and he realized that, like himself, she’d eaten very little. Was his presence at the table disturbing her that much?

Her expression gave nothing away. Perhaps she, too, was aware that Lady Ashby seemed very interested in the interplay between the two of them.

“Lissy should come as well. There are some interesting carvings in the vault that I’m sure would be of artistic interest. But she won’t. My sister’s a coward when it comes to enclosed spaces.”

There was the clatter of a fork against a plate. “You forget we have company, Hugo. That is not the kind of thing that one says in front of a visitor.”

“Sorry, Mama, but it’s true. You’ve always hated those tunnels, Lissy.”

“You like to call them tunnels. I call them dungeons. They are places of cruelty and suffering, and I think they should be backfilled. Let the barbarism of the past remain in the past.”

Well said. Roland grinned at Lissy, but all her attention was on her brother.

“You are afraid, aren’t you?” Hugo teased. “Even though you’re a lady now, you won’t go down.”

Lissy glared at her brother.

“I will go into the dungeons with you. Just to prove that I’m not the kind of ninnyhammer you think I am. But only for a few moments—I have far more important things to get on with than trailing around after you to prove a point.”

Roland smiled to himself. They were to spend part of the afternoon together. Perhaps he would have the opportunity to explain himself to Lissy and apologize. His appetite returned.

Chapter Thirteen

Why had Hugo chosen this moment to come home? It was going to be hard enough speaking to Roland alone under her mother’s all-seeing eye, and now Hugo had decided to make a pet of him. Roland wouldn’t have a moment to himself.

Lissy rolled her eyes silently at the family portraits as the three of them made their way into the hallway. Roland, who’d fallen back a little, paused and followed the direction of her gaze.

“A handsome-looking family,” he commented. Then he froze and stared up at the portrait of her mother, done not long before her wedding to Papa, when she was bedecked in all the family heirlooms.