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“Very well.” William shot to his feet, and Rhys led him out of the Castle and north through the heathlands that painted the hills with patches of yellow, green, and purple.
* * *
“Is something wrong?” Stella asked Elizabeth a while after dinner, which she had eaten alone in the dining room. She was glad the Dowager did not join her but disappointed that Rhys was absent. And he did not tell her that he would not be present which she thought she deserved to know.
“I am unsure,” she replied as she absently stroked Brutus while he slept on her lap. “Rhys did not tell me that he was expecting Hammer.”
“Perhaps he forgot,” Stella suggested, picking up Elizabeth’s shawl from the bed and folding it.
“Perhaps he did, but I cannot help this feeling that there is something else that he is not telling me, something that might concern me.”
Stella frowned. “Do you think it might be about Myers?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I think it is more about Rhys. We learned all we could about him before, but it was only what he allowed us to see.”
“Are you saying he has a secret?” Stella was beginning to look concerned.
“I cannot say. It is only a feeling now.” Elizabeth remembered when he said he did not deserve to have a large and happy family. Why would he think that he did not deserve it?
A knock came at the door, and Stella went to the sitting room that adjoined the bedchamber to see who it was. A moment later, she returned and said, “The Dowager wishes to see you. She is in the blue drawing room.”
Elizabeth glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle and saw that it was almost ten, and the Dowager usually retired early. Curious, she gently removed Brutus from her lap and stood, slipping her feet into her shoes.
“I wonder what she wants at this time.”
“So do I,” Stella sighed and gave her an encouraging smile. Elizabeth went down to the drawing room and found the Dowager rubbing her hands together as though she was plotting something before Elizabeth’s arrival, but the scent of peppermint oil in the air and the bottle on a table beside the Dowager told her that she was merely rubbing it on her hands.
“Sit,” she ordered Elizabeth.
Not wishing for any conflict at this time, Elizabeth wordlessly sat in a chair across from the Dowager where she could properly read the Lady’s countenance. “How may I help you this evening, My Lady?”
“I called you to discuss my grandson’s visitor. Did you know he was coming?”
“No, I did not,” Elizabeth answered honestly when she did not see the point in concealing the truth from her grandmother-in-law.
“Do you know what he came for?”
“I think you should ask Rhys these questions because I do not know.”
The Dowager raised her chin and turned her gaze to the fire. “He will not tell me, but seeing as you have bewitched him, he might tellyou.”
“Have you not considered that perhaps he informed neither of us of Mr. Westwood’s visit because he did not wish for us to know?”
“Well, I must know,” the Dowager insisted, and Elizabeth decided the woman was wasting her time.
“Then I suppose you should ask Rhys.” She smiled and made sure her tone was sweet when she asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you, My Lady?”
“I do not want that man here.”
“I do not believe he will be staying here.”
“I mean in Dorset.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened a fraction, but she remained calm. “Of course, you meant that.” She heard footfalls in the hall that could only belong to Rhys, and she stood. “I think your chance to get your answers has arrived. Good night.”
Rhys appeared in the doorway, his eyes weary, and a shadow on his jaw. He gave Elizabeth a small smile, but she could see that something was wrong, and every part of her body grew rigid.
“We were waiting for you, Guildford,” said the Dowager.
