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“Mum?”
Rachel glanced up from the book she had been using to distract herself while she waited for Truman. Susanna was standing just inside the doorway of the library.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Stanhope is ’ere. ’E asked me to let ye know that ’e’d like a word with ye.”
Wythe. Rachel barely refrained from wrinkling her nose. She didn’t want to see him, was still afraid of him. Other than a few vague references, she hadn’t told Truman how he had behaved that night on the road to Blackmoor Hall. She figured she would give him, like the servants, a chance to accept her. He was the earl’s cousin, after all. She wouldn’t come between them if she could avoid it. But that didn’t mean she was excited to spend any time alone with him and, as far as she could tell, the earl had not yet returned.
“Shall I tell ’im ye’ll be down, Mistress Rachel?” Susanna prodded when she hesitated.
Rachel was about to put him off. But then she changed her mind. Maybe if she told him she would never divulge exactly what he had said to her that night—that she would credit it all to drink—he would be equally willing to put the past behind them.
With that in mind, she told Susanna to tell him she would be just a moment. Then, when she had gathered her courage for whatever might ensue, she abandoned her book and started for the stairs.
He turned from the fire when he heard her come in. “There you are.”
She smiled politely. “Hello, Mr. Stanhope.”
“Now that we are to be cousins, you don’t feel as if you can use my first name?”
“I feared doing so might seem overly familiar, considering the changes have been so recent.”
“How can you and I be too familiar?” he said with a laugh. “I have seen you naked, have I not?”
She stiffened at the reminder but worked to keep her smile in place. “I prefer that we forget that night. I thought perhaps you might agree.”
“I do. I absolutely agree. Although forgetting it will do little if you have already told Truman what I said… what I wanted.”
“I haven’t elaborated. He knows only that you deposited me in his bed without my express permission. I prefer to spare him the ugly details, given that you are his family and he cares so much about you.”
He smiled but somehow Wythe’s smiles never reached his eyes. “You are as generous as you are beautiful. What a lucky man Truman is.”
She got the impression he was being sarcastic. Obviously, a poor miner’s daughter was no real prize for an earl, but she wasn’t willing to abandon her attempt to make peace quite yet. She saw nothing to be gained by barging into Truman’s life and upsetting the balance; she was already self-conscious about what he would have to deal with, due to their decision to wed. “Thank you for your kind words. As you may know, Truman is out this evening. But he should be back shortly. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?”
He chuckled.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It just might be possible.”
“To… ?”
“Make a lady out of you. You certainly sound high and mighty.”
She had done what she could to dress the part, had chosen the burgundy dress Truman had bought her for this evening, but Wythe made her feel as if she was standing there in her wool dress. “I hope to sound polite and friendly. If that is high and mighty, I apologize.”
“You won’t even fight with me?”
“Are you trying to vex me?”
“Getting a rise out of you would be more interesting, and probably more honest, than this, but… you are determined and I won’t provoke you.” He looked her up and down. “So… what? Are you planning to step into my cousin’s life without making a ripple?”
“If I can.”
“And what will you do when they summon him to court?”
She curled her fingernails into her palms as she battled the fear his words evoked. “I hope the paintings will be found, and he won’t be summoned to court. I am sure you hope the same.”
Wythe’s expression made his true feelings difficult to determine, but his words were what she would expect them to be. “Of course. But I’m not sure you should depend on finding those paintings.”
“Because… ?”
“We have already been through the mine. Where else can they be?”
“They could be anywhere.” She stepped closer. “Elspeth’s, for instance.”
“The whorehouse!”
If he thought his blatant use of the word might make her wince, he was wrong. She hadn’t been sheltered like the ladies of the gentry. “Why not?” she responded. “Elspeth could be storing them in her attic or cellar.”
A muscle moved in his cheek. “You will find nothing at Elspeth’s.”
She arched her eyebrows. “How do you know if you’ve never looked?”
“Because she would have told me if she was hiding paintings that could prove my cousin innocent of Katherine’s murder.”
“You are such great friends?”
“We are very great friends indeed.”
She clapped. “Wonderful.”
His face reflected his confusion. “Excuse me?”
“Then she won’t mind letting Truman search tomorrow. You can arrange it.”
He opened his mouth as if he would refuse but seemed to think better of it. “I will talk to her when I go there tonight.”
Would he? What would he do when he got there? That was what she intended to find out. “I know Truman would appreciate it. I will tell him you might save him yet again.”
His nostrils flared with dislike despite her acknowledgment of his heroism, but he gave her a bow nonetheless. “Mistress Rachel.”
“Goodnight, Wythe,” she said.
Chapter 23
As soon as the earl’s cousin left, Rachel sent for Mr. Linley. She would have gone to Truman instead, but he wasn’t yet home, and she didn’t want to let his cousin get too far ahead of them.
“Yes, Mistress Rachel?”
She looked up from the settee as the butler entered. “Mr. Linley, thank you for coming.”
“Of course. I am at your service. Always.”
The devotion in that statement filled her with gratitude. There were times when it felt as if she and the earl would have to stand against the world. “I appreciate that. I do. But the favor I am about to ask is a bit out of the ordinary. I dare put it to you only because I am confident of your great love for Lord Druridge.”
