Page 18 of A Figure of Love

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Only Mrs. Brinkley, their housekeeper, was home when Serena arrived. “My lady is out shopping with her newest young girl and Oliver and Madam have gone to the park.”

Serena nodded, disappointed she had nobody to share her news with.

Well, she might as well begin packing.

“I will be out in the carriage house, Mrs. Brinkley.”

Serena changed into older work clothes before making her way to the mews beside the house. As they kept no carriage or horses she used the big empty space as her workshop.

There was no piece in progress just now but she was a messy worker—much to her chagrin—and she had to spend a good deal of time cleaning up the room before she could locate the tools she would take with her to Rushton Park.

She’d just put the last of her chisels in her battered wooden tool box when a voice behind her made her jump.

“Packing for a trip, are you?”

Serena turned to find Sandy leaning against one of the double doors, the sun behind him hiding his face.

“Sandy!” She raised a hand and lowered it over her pounding heart. “You startled me.”

He sauntered toward her, his gait unsteady. She gasped when she could finally make out his face. One eye was blackened shut, his lip swollen, and purple bruising up and down his jaw.

She took a step toward him. “What happened?”

His hideous face turned even uglier with a sneer. “You happened, my dear cousin.”

She flinched back. “What do you mean?”

“You know damned well what I mean!” He stalked toward her, the menace in his slim form shocking. Serena took several steps back, but he kept advancing. “You said something to him, didn’t you?”

She shook her head, her feet stumbling over something on the cluttered floor. She reached out to steady herself against the splintered wood of a horse stall. “If you mean Mr. Lockheart, no, I did not say a word.”

“You are a liar!” His screech was high-pitched and piercing.

Serena stopped, refusing to move back another step. He pushed against her, needing to look up to meet her eyes. Revulsion, fear, and anger surged through her at the feel of his body against hers, but she stood her ground.

“Only an idiot would not have seen through your scheme with Landy.” She let all the distaste she felt for him show on her face. “Your behavior was disgusting. Lockheart is foolishly generous with his pay, but that was not enough, you had to cheat him.”

“And who are you to act so high and mighty? You and your cousin and whatever it is you are hiding between you.”

Fear froze her in place. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she lied, her voice hoarse.

“You’re a bloody liar. If Bardot is your cousin, then I’m your grandmother. He is your lover or conspirator or both and the two of you are up to something.” He grinned, the act exposing an empty tooth socket and bleeding gums. “I am going to find out what exactly that is, and I am going to wipe that sanctimonious expression right off your face with it.”

A shadow appeared in the open doorway and Featherstone turned.

“Featherstone, what a surprise seeing you here,” an amused, cultured voice cut across the space. Miles’s large, powerful frame filled the doorway.

Serena felt weak with relief.

Sandy sneered, but he stepped away. “Why, if it isn’t Viscount Ingram,” he said the courtesy title—which Miles never used—in a tone that dripped with loathing and gave a nasty laugh. “Come for a little afternoon tussle with the widow, have you?”

Miles stopped a few steps away, his eyes flickering to Serena to check that she was all right before moving back to the other man. He wore the same charming smile that always graced his beautiful face, but Serena knew him well enough to know he was angered by Sandy’s crass question.

“It looks like you’ve fallen from your horse and landed on your face, Featherstone.” His lips quirked. “Or perhaps you asked rude, disrespectful questions of the wrong person?” His sky blue eyes were as hard as glass.

Featherstone swallowed at the unspoken threat and turned to her. “I apologize for my disrespectful comment, Serena.”