The Regency Season Collection: Part Two. Кэрол Мортимер

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       Chapter Seven

      The housebreakers’ voices faded as they went back up the stair arguing. Tom felt Miss Trethayne tense as if getting ready to creep after them and wondered if the wretched female had some sort of death wish.

      ‘Let them go,’ he murmured as urgently as he dared.

      ‘Coward,’ she accused in a bitter little whisper, and he was surprised how sharply the accusation stung.

      ‘If you were a man, you’d meet me for that,’ he replied gruffly.

      ‘Then go after them before they can get away,’ she said, quite unimpressed by his offended dignity, and this time he had to muffle a startled laugh.

      ‘And do what?’ he demanded laconically.

      ‘Find out what they are doing here.’

      ‘Oh, why didn’t I think of that? Let’s just go and ask the nice housebreakers why they’re searching an empty house in the middle of the night and how they got in to do it in the first place then, shall we?’

      ‘I admit they won’t want to tell us, but I’m sure you can awe them into it.’

      ‘And what will you do while I’m busy?’

      ‘I could hold your sword if only you’d thought to bring one,’ she mumbled crossly, as if seeing the foolishness of her scheme, but still refusing to admit it.

      ‘How remiss of me,’ he murmured as he stifled the fantasy of impressing her by confronting two villains with bare fists and the few wits she’d left him.

      ‘Yes, it was,’ she agreed and surely that wasn’t a huff of suppressed laughter?

      ‘Next time we embark on one of your nocturnal adventures, I’ll make sure I’m armed to the teeth,’ he said solemnly, and her hand relaxed in his as they fumbled their way back the way they’d come. ‘First we’ll plan it a little better,’ he added when they were by the side door again, and she fumbled for the key.

      ‘I want to know how they get in and out.’

      ‘Patience, Miss Trethayne, we need to know who our enemies are before we let them know we’ve smoked them out at the time that suits us best.’

      ‘Why not catch them first and ask questions after?’

      ‘At least I know now that the legendary impulsiveness of the Trethaynes hasn’t been exaggerated,’ he murmured, determined not to admit he was unwilling to let her risk injury and worse at the hands of an unknown foe. Nothing was more likely to send her smashing recklessly back into the house to confront danger than knowing she was being kept out of it for her own good.

      ‘They made me angry,’ she admitted with a shrug once they were on the other side of the door, and he slid the key back in his pocket before she could appropriate it again. ‘We may be beggars, but we don’t scavenge in the dark, stealing whatever we can lay our hands on. They come and go as they please while we stay out of the way of the magistrate as if we’re in the wrong. What right do they have to look down on us when we work every hour God sends not to be a charge on the parish?’

      ‘If I tell the authorities you have my permission to live at Dayspring, nobody will be able to tramp about the place willy-nilly in future.’

      ‘And you think men like that will take notice? The law is run by and for the rich, Lord Mantaigne. It takes a dim view of those who’re too poor to pay it to look the other way.’

      ‘There are plenty of good magistrates,’ Tom argued lamely.

      ‘Luckily for us, Mr Strand is an indolent one. He’d turn a blind eye to anyone not robbing or murdering in front of his nose rather than leave his fireside on a night like this one.’

      ‘Which must have been a good thing for you at times,’ Tom pointed out absently, frowning at the notion any criminal who wanted to run tame about the area had a virtual carte blanche to do so if the local magistrate was as lazy as she claimed.

      ‘True, and luckily he’s terrified of Lady Wakebourne. A royal scold from her has saved us from eviction more than once.’

      ‘I will let him know Dayspring is my business and who does or doesn’t live here has nothing to do with him.’

      ‘A nicely ambiguous reply—have you ever thought of taking up your seat in the House of Lords?’

      ‘How do you know I haven’t?’

      He heard her snort of disbelief at the very idea and tried not to let her opinion of him as an idle and useless fool hurt. It was true he disliked politicians in general and avoided allying himself to the Whigs, Tories or Radicals, but he had a conscience and often voted on it. He even spoke out about causes close to his heart on occasions, for all the good it ever seemed to do. Since he had met Miss Polly Trethayne’s incredible eyes earlier today, with that flash of contempt in them to make him wonder about himself more than was quite comfortable, he’d been wondering if it was time to stop taking life quite so lightly and properly espouse a few of those causes.

      Since they exchanged that hasty kiss in the darkness her low opinion of him stung even more, and he fought off an urge to plead for her understanding and a better opinion of him. Her contempt was a useful shield between them, her scathing opinion of his morals and motives might keep him from falling on her like the ravening beasts he’d hated the very mention of when she spoke of the casual violence she’d met on the roads before she got to Dayspring and a sort of sanctuary. He sighed and wished her warmth at his shoulder and her scent on the air wasn’t quite so intimate and endearing and that he wasn’t quite so drawn to the prickly female. Begging sometimes seemed a fine idea if it would win her over and get her back in his arms for a lot longer than she had been tonight.

      * * *

      ‘What on earth have you two been doing in the dark all this time?’ Lady Wakebourne demanded the instant they approached the still-burning lamp he had hung by the old steward’s lodgings. She had obviously grown tired of waiting for Miss Trethayne to come in and was keeping watch for her ewe lamb to make sure she was safe from the big, bad wolf.

      ‘Suddenly I know exactly how your Mr Strand feels,’ he murmured and heard that delightful huff of feminine laughter again and felt the warmth of it to his toes.

      ‘Terrifying, isn’t she?’ she whispered back, then stepped forward to greet her mentor with a serene smile. ‘You did mean us to settle some differences and make everyone else less uncomfortable, didn’t you, Lady W.? We had a lot of differences to sift through and it took some time, but I think we have finally agreed on a truce of sorts, have we not, Lord Mantaigne?’

      ‘Indeed,’ he said as solemnly as he could with the thoughts of what they had actually been about crowding into his mind. ‘Miss Trethayne has agreed to take me and Peters on a tour of the closest parts of the estate, starting tomorrow,’ he added.

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