Page 4 of A Figure of Love

The butler’s eyebrows arched.

“What is it, Jessup?”

“Mr. Beech is not expected until late afternoon, ma’am.”

Serena frowned. “He told me it was to be a midday meeting. I have engaged the post chaise to return for me at four.”

“Mr. Beech is to arrive at five o’clock and will stay the night.”

Serena wanted to howl with frustration but it was hardly Jessup’s fault. “I’m afraid Mr. Beech neglected to inform me of either the correct time or duration of our meeting.” She sighed and glanced around her without seeing anything, her mind churning. The expensive journey out and back had been paid for by Mr. Lockheart, of course, so she was not concerned about that. But she had brought no change of clothing or any other items for an overnight stay. She also had not told Lady Winifred, her friend and housemate, that she would be gone overnight. And of course Oliver would be expecting to see her tomorrow morning.

She looked up half a foot to meet Jessup’s impassive eyes and shrugged. “Well, Jessup, this is a bit of a muddle. I did not come prepared for an overnight stay, nor did I tell anyone I would be away that long.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth and worried it. “You know the way of things here, what do you advise?”

His expression didn’t change, but his dark brown eyes glinted with approval at her calm reaction.

“Mr. Lockheart is a gentleman who does not stay long in one place, ma’am. It is his plan to leave Rushton Park tomorrow. He will return to London for a few days but then I believe he is headed to the North. It may be some time before he returns to Rushton Park for another meeting.”

That was his way of saying she should stay. “I see.”

Jessup’s mouth opened a crack, but then he closed it.

“What is it you are thinking? Don’t be shy.”

“Do you need to be back in London tonight?”

“No, but my son and the woman we live with will worry if I’m not back by this evening.”

“If I could make arrangements to provide you with the items necessary for an overnight stay and send a message to reassure your friend and Master Oliver, would you have any objections to staying?”

It was not ideal, but she knew this commission would be worth a great deal of money.

“Thank you, Jessup, that would serve admirably.”

“If you will excuse me, I will see to it. I will leave you to enjoy your walk and return for you in half an hour.”

∞∞∞

Gareth had the big rolls of plans for the new pottery spread out on the vast trestle table he’d had made for this exact purpose. He was examining it with a magnifying glass, studying the details for the massive kilns.

He was so enrapt he nearly jumped out of his skin when a throat cleared behind him. He ignored his rapidly beating heart and sighed. “Yes, Jessup, what is it now?”

“I am terribly sorry to disturb you, sir, but there appears to have been something of a misunderstanding.”

Chapter Two

Serena stared at the immense book-lined room. Three rooms linked together, actually. A library unlike anything she’d ever seen. Of course the entire property was singular, from the lush countryside that surrounded the gargantuan house, to the vast suite of rooms she’d been given for her brief stay. Rooms that were twice as large as any she could recall at Keeting Hall.

Jessup had taken care of her as if she were a queen, sending one messenger speeding off to London and another all the way to Ayelford—the nearest town with a dress shop—to purchase a nightgown and dressing robe. These, as well as a selection of toiletries, combs, and brushes—all new—awaited her in her sumptuous chambers. Serena would have to wear her clothing to dinner and again tomorrow when she left, but Jessup told her Mr. Lockheart had been apprised of the matter and tonight’s dinner would be informal.

All in all, she could not be unhappy to be staying an evening in such a house. The library alone was worth the inconvenience. Bookshelves began only a few inches off the floor and did not stop until the ceiling, which she believed to be at least fifteen feet high. The book ladder was precariously tall, and she could imagine herself scaling it and risking life and limb for the sake of a book.

She was examining a rather exquisite set of six volumes of illuminated French poetry when the door opened behind her. She turned to find Sandy Featherstone, her deceased husband’s cousin, twice removed.

“Hallo, Serena, Beech told me you’d agreed to come.” He came toward her with his arms outstretched and Serena submitted with resignation to his embrace. He was a sticky-handed man whom she had only ever tolerated because of his connection to the family.

Serena stepped away when it became apparent he was not going to voluntarily release her. He eyed her in a way that made her jaw tighten, his small-fingered hands moving in their habitual hand-washing motions.

“Hallo, Sandy.” Serena forced a smile. “So, it appears I have you to thank for this.” She made a gesture which encompassed everything around them.