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Chapter Ten
Ashford hoped his focused attention upon Vigilia wasn’t obvious to anyone else in the room, especially not Lord Bertram. The bounder’s efforts to undermine Ash were creative enough without Bertram going after the young woman in an effort to hurt Ashford. But her behaviour the previous night made him worry that he might be too late in those hopes. He wondered when he might be able to discretely question her. Perhaps, during their explorations that afternoon. If he could catch her when they were too far away from others to be overheard it would be ideal.
He wondered when his life had become so very complicated.
Not that he would truly want a simple life. For the most part, he thrived on challenges. But Ashford hated the thought that his dispute with the blasted viscount might be tainting Lady Vigilia in some way. With a shake of his head, Ash resolved to put it from his mind for the time being. Worrying about it when he couldn’t do anything about it would only consume him needlessly.
“You have hired exceptionally skilled cooks even out here in the country, my lady,” Ash complimented as he wiped his mouth with the napkin.
The young countess appeared pleased with his words. “Thank you, Mr. Northcott, we were delighted that he was willing to join the household. It was only when we promised to entertain regularly that he agreed to our offer of employment. So, I ought to thank all of you for making it possible.” She looked around the table with a charming smile before gaining her feet. “I trust you will all be able to keep yourselves occupied for a time this morning.” Even though it wasn’t a question and the young countess was trying to appear confident in her role as hostess, Ash could hear her voice rising as though to ask if they’d be all right in her absence. “If you haven’t anything to do, see the butler. He has some ideas.” She concluded with a cheerful grin as she left the room. Ash chuckled as she left and was gratified when she glanced over her shoulder and met his gaze with a brief wink.
Ash allowed his own gaze to roam around the table. He wished Crossley was there. Lord Clifton wasn’t a bad sort, but he was under the influence of Lord Bertram, which was regrettable. Sir Branson seemed independent and personable enough. Ashford thought to invite him to go riding before he remembered he ought to let his horse rest a bit longer, since they had come so far yesterday and would be riding again that afternoon. Perhaps, he ought to see to his own correspondence just as Vigilia had said she was going to do. The pace of the activities was sure to pick up in the coming days, and he had a couple things he ought to see to. His heart wasn’t really in it though. He didn’t feel as though he would be able to settle until he had spoken with Vigilia and ascertained for himself that she was fine. He would go for a walk, he finally concluded.
When he returned to the house an hour or so later, it was abuzz with more activity than when he had left. Clearly, the ladies had left their chambers and were filling the rooms with their chatter. Ash went in search of Vigilia.
Most of the party were in one of the retiring rooms at the back of the house that had the doors open to the grassland beyond. Some were sitting inside studiously engaged in needlework or other such activities. It amused Ash to see one gentleman trying valiantly to help a young woman sort her threads, even though he so clearly hadn’t the first idea how.
“No, sir, that isn’t the same shade,” the young woman insisted with a giggle even though to Ash’s eyes he couldn’t tell any difference either.
Due to the busy activity within and without, Ashford at first couldn’t see Vigilia. He wondered if she had remained closeted in her room. His concern mounted. The girl he had once known would never have stayed away from a party. Having spent time with her this Season, he didn’t think she had changed so very much, even if she didn’t appear to welcome a friendship with him.
Another careful sweep of those gathered, though, showed him he had been lax in his first assessment. Vigilia was just beyond the group playing shuttlecock and appeared to be deep in conversation with Lord Bertram. It was clear to him that she was distressed by whatever they were discussing, even though it appeared she was doing a reasonably good job of hiding it from observers. Ash looked around to see if Lady Crossley was present. He knew she would be able to see that her friend was in distress, and it would be better for Vigilia if it were the countess who intervened.
But Ash couldn’t see Lady Crossley, and he couldn’t wait to see what happened. If nothing else, he needed to know what Bertram was telling Vigilia. He tried to be discreet as he approached the pair, feigning interest in the game that was in progress.
As though she sensed his approach, Lady Vigilia glanced up, and their eyes met. For the briefest moment it felt to Ash as though he could read her every thought, and he felt her panic before she blinked her reaction away. She leaned in closer to Bertram before the two of them set off at a sedate pace to stroll along the garden paths. Ashford would have to either wait until later or join them and interrupt whatever they were discussing. It was clear they didn’t welcome his intrusion.
Frustration threatened to well in him but Ash swallowed it down; he could wait until later to get the information he sought. So, he turned his attention in truth to the energetic games being played on the lawn.
~~~
Vicky’s stomach was threatening to dispense with the contents of her breakfast. She was glad she had been forced to stop eating when she had. It would draw far too much attention to her discomfort if she were to cast up her accounts in front of everyone. She only hoped her feelings were not etched all over her face for everyone to see. It had seemed for a moment as though Ashford Northcott were about to intervene in her conversation with Lord Bertram.
With a sigh, Vicky dragged her thoughts away from Ashford even though he was part of the subject of their discussion.
“But my lord, I really don’t see how it is any consequence to me or my family even if what you say about Mr. Northcott is true.”
“He is known to be a friend of your family, especially your sisters and their husbands. If he is tried for treason, they will surely be tarnished by it. And rumour has it the bounder is courting you. You will be ruined.”
Vicky didn’t think the viscount’s gleeful tone quite suited the words his message contained. But she stifled her instinctive response.
“For one thing, my lord, Mr. Northcott is not courting me. And for another, I really don’t see what you think I could possibly do about the matter if he does happen to have republican aspirations. As I’ve told you, I am not close with Mr. Northcott. I cannot influence him. And I couldn’t report on him even if I wanted to, as I know nothing of his whereabouts.”
“But you could find out, couldn’t you?”
“I beg your pardon?” Vicky was fairly sure she knew what the man was asking of her, but she needed him to spell it out.
“Allow Northcott to court you and find out whatever you can about his activities.”
“And then what? Tell you what I’ve found out?” Everything in her was repulsed at the very idea, but she forced herself to find out exactly what Lord Bertram was after. While she stood by her conviction that her family couldn’t possibly be in any danger from this corner, she felt it was her responsibility to find out everything she could. Family was everything. If it was in her power to protect her family, she would do whatever she could. Perhaps she would do as Bertram bade and find out what she could from Northcott, but she wouldn’t be reporting back to his lordship if she did.
“Yes, exactly. I knew you were bright enough to understand.”
“But to what end, my lord?” Vicky persisted. “Are you an agent of the Crown? Will you be able to stop him if there is a scheme afoot? What will happen to Mr. Northcott? And my family?”
“You needn’t worry about all of that, my dear lady. I will do what needs to be done. You just need to get me the information.”
Vicky wanted to scoff at him but with a concerted effort, she kept her reaction to herself. It felt as though he were patting her on the head like a small child. She only wondered if he were going to offer her a treat for her efforts. She almost laughed when he did exactly that.
