ANNE ASHLEY

Lord Hawkridge's Secret


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and his gaze was suddenly disconcertingly direct. ‘You wouldn’t, by any chance, be referring to Emily Stapleton?’

      ‘Why, yes!’ The Baronet was clearly astonished. ‘Are you acquainted with her?’

      His lordship’s ruggedly masculine features were all at once softened by a surprisingly tender smile. ‘Oh, yes. I know little Emily Stapleton, right enough. I’ve been acquainted with the family all my life. She and her mother were my nearest neighbours when I resided in Hampshire. In fact, Emily’s mother was my godmother.’

      Once again Sir George didn’t attempt to hide his surprise. ‘Great heavens! I never knew that. I remember her mother and father very well. Laura was a lovely woman. It was so very sad that her marriage to Philip Stapleton was so tragically short. He died at the Battle of the Nile.’ He shrugged. ‘Still, I suppose you knew that. Emily doesn’t remember her father too well, of course. But her mother’s death hit her pretty hard, poor child.’

      ‘I know that too, sir. I was with her at the time.’ Sebastian released his breath in a long sigh. ‘She’s still happy enough living with her grandfather, I understand?’

      ‘Oh, yes, my boy.’ Sir George’s portly frame shook as he gave vent to a chuckle. ‘Damnable intrepid little thing! Jaunts about the countryside tooling her own carriage now, would you believe?’

      There was no semblance of a smile on the younger man’s face. ‘I’m well aware of it!’ Disapproval was clearly evident in the clipped tone. ‘I was given little choice in the matter. The little minx forced my hand!’

      Sir George’s bushy brows rose sharply. ‘I’m sorry, my boy. I don’t perfectly understand. Why should Miss Stapleton’s behaviour concern you?’

      ‘Because, Sir George, I am her legal guardian and not John Stapleton, as most people believe. And I would be very much obliged to you if you would keep that information to yourself.’

      Although not perfectly understanding the need for secrecy, Sir George didn’t hesitate to give his word, before his thoughts returned to the reason for his visit. ‘Anderson said something to young Emily before he died. I didn’t like to question her too closely. That young lady has a head on her shoulders, and I didn’t wish to arouse her suspicions. Didn’t want her involved in all this cloak-and-dagger stuff.’

      ‘And she didn’t tell you what he said?’

      Sir George shook his head. ‘Said something about Anderson being keen on bird-watching, would you believe? But I can’t imagine that that can be right.’

      His expression once again keenly alert, Sebastian rose to his feet and stood before the hearth to stare intently down at the burning coals. ‘I was wrong, sir. Unless I’m gravely mistaken that message might well have been for me. It’s vital I find out exactly what he said.’

      ‘I’ll go and visit Emily the instant I get back.’

      ‘No, don’t do that. It would be better if I questioned her. I’d learn a great deal more than you would. As mentioned, I’ve been acquainted with her all her life, and know how to handle her. Damnation!’ he cursed softly. ‘I would have preferred to have waited, but Fate it seems is forcing my hand.’

      Understandably, he turned to discover a puzzled expression on the Baronet’s plump features, but chose not to elaborate. Instead he said, ‘Would I be right in thinking that the Deverels are close neighbours of yours, and that there’s to be a party held at their home in the not too distant future?’

      ‘Why, yes! Have you been invited?’

      ‘I was, but turned it down. Charles Deverel and I were up at Oxford together. Unless I’m much mistaken he’s still in town.’ Placing his half-finished glass of wine on the mantel shelf, Sebastian went striding over to the door. ‘I don’t wish to appear rude, sir, but I must go out and run Deverel to earth without delay, and somehow get myself re-invited to that damnable country party without, I hope, arousing suspicion.’

      Chapter Two

      Raising her eyes from the book which she had obtained from the lending library on the very day she had come upon the stranger at Kempton Wood, Emily gazed across at the sofa, where Sarah sat busily hemming the last few inches of her new gown, and frowned as something odd occurred to her.

      ‘Sarah, did Sir George Maynard ever question you about that unfortunate incident last week?’

      ‘No. Why do you ask?’

      ‘Because it seems to me he’s taken the murder of that stranger very lightly. Which is most unlike him. He’s usually so conscientious. He returned from London four days ago, but hasn’t made the least attempt to question me again.’

      Sarah shrugged. ‘Perhaps he doesn’t think there’s anything further you can tell him.’

      ‘Ah, but there is!’ Emily enlightened her, closing her book and tossing it aside. ‘You see I’ve been thinking about the incident a good deal, and I now recall precisely what the stranger said to me before he died.’

      ‘In that case why don’t you inform Sir George?’ Sarah suggested, exhibiting her usual sound good sense. ‘He’ll be at the party tomorrow night. And so too shall I now that my new gown is finished!’ she added, her mind swiftly turning to far more important matters as far as she was concerned. She held the garment at arm’s length the better to survey the finished result. ‘I cannot thank you enough for all the work you did on this. If it hadn’t been for you I’d never have finished it in time.’

      ‘If you must thank someone, then thank Budd,’ Emily responded, refusing to take the credit. ‘She did most of the work on it, not I.’

      ‘In that case I shall make a point of doing so. Your housekeeper’s an absolute treasure!’

      ‘I’m very well aware of it,’ Emily assured her. ‘If it hadn’t been for dear old Budd I’d have been saddled with a duenna, would you believe?’

      Sarah frankly laughed. ‘For someone who enjoyed a deal of freedom throughout her childhood, far more than most girls are privileged to experience, I cannot imagine you would have taken too kindly to having your treasured independence drastically curtailed by a chaperon.’

      ‘How well you know me, my dear. No, I should not!’ Emily admitted. ‘Fortunately Budd stepped into the breach by suggesting that she keep an eye on me until a suitable duenna was found. Whether grandfather then forgot the idiotic notion, or was happy to leave matters as they were, I’m not certain.

      ‘Oh, yes, I’m very well aware that Lady Deverel, among several others hereabouts, thinks it highly improper for a young woman of my age not to be suitably chaperoned,’ Emily went on when she detected her friend’s wry grin. ‘But it’s nonsensical, Sarah. I live with my grandfather, a venerable, elderly gentleman of sober habits. All right, I’ll admit that a cook-housekeeper might not be considered by most as an ideal chaperon, but no one could suggest that dear Mrs Budd isn’t respectable.’

      ‘That’s true enough,’ Sarah was forced to agree.

      ‘And since my arrival, of course, we’ve added to the household staff by employing Amy, the parlourmaid, and one of the village girls who comes in every day to help with the cleaning, so Budd isn’t precisely overworked, and is able to spend time with me when the need arises. And as I somehow acquired the running of the household, the servants usually come directly to me for instructions, so things go along pretty smoothly, and everyone is happy.’

      Once again Sarah was unable to suppress a smile. ‘In other words you ruled the roost not long after taking up residence here, and have not called upon Budd’s services too often, I suspect.’

      ‘There’s been absolutely no need for me to do so,’ Emily wasn’t slow to point out. ‘But she’s always on hand on those rare occasions when younger gentlemen call at the house and the proprieties need to be observed. And then, of course, the instant I step outside Jonas Finn appears.