Gatehaven Page 8

  “I have been lonely since the vicar went away and would appreciate the company. Besides the earl and his family, the vicar is my oldest friend since moving here from France.”

  “I appreciate your kind offer, sir. But I cannot put you out like that by accepting.”

  “Nonsense. You will accept and stay with me until the vicar returns. I refuse to take no for an answer.”

  Ian didn’t like being forced to do something he might not want to do. At the same time, he needed a place to stay, and the gentleman’s dwelling seemed like the perfect solution. He was about to accept when the earl stepped out from behind a stone wall and strode toward them.

  “Oh, here you are, Monsieur Gabeau.” The earl smiled at the older gentleman, but when he turned to Ian, his smile vanished. “Mr. Colquhoun.” He sent Ian a sharp look and gazed back at the older man. “My mother and my grandmother told me to tell you that the upcoming meeting we have all been waiting for will be held here at Gatehaven as planned. We would like for you to help us decide the time and the exact date before an announcement is sent out.”

  The muscles around the Frenchman’s face tightened, and his thick lips turned down. Ian imagined sparks shoot out of the older man’s eyes, and those sparks were aimed at the earl.

  “As I told you in the library, my lord. I am not feeling my best today and have much to do at home. Mr. Colquhoun has promised to reside with me until the vicar returns.”

  Reside with him?

  Ian had fully intended to accept the Frenchman’s offer, but he hadn’t put that conclusion into words yet. It bothered him that Monsieur Gabeau spoke as if he had. Edward looked shocked. “Monsieur Gabeau, you cannot mean that Mr. Colquhoun will be staying at your estate as your guest.”

  “Yes, but only until the vicar returns. He will keep me from feeling so lonely in that big old house. I want to get Mr. Colquhoun settled in as soon as possible.”

  “I can see that you are eager to be on your way,” the earl said. “But if you would be so kind as to put off leaving for—for a say an hour—and share a meal with us, I would appreciate it. I wish to speak to you alone on matters of utmost importance.”

  The Frenchman’s jaw tightened. “I am a busy man, my lord, and not feeling my best. I will agree to delay my trip home for one hour—no more.”

  “One hour should be plenty of time, Monsieur.”

  He turned to Ian. “If you will show McGregor, my driver, where your bags and boxes are located, he will help you load them onto my carriage. I will join you shortly.”

  “I will help him load my belongings into your carriage as you suggested, sir, and then I will visit that garden you mentioned. I also understand that a meal is waiting for me in the kitchen, and I am looking forward to that as well.”

  “Excellent.” The Frenchman motioned to the portly guard that Ian had talked to earlier. “McGregor, help this gentleman load his bags into my carriage. I should be back in about an hour, and then you will drive us home.”

  “Very good, Monsieur.”

  As he limped away with the earl at his side, Ian shook his head. Apparently, some sort of hostility was going on between the earl and Monsieur Gabeau.

  Not only that, the Frenchman had said his portly driver was named McGregor. The driver had seemed friendly enough when Ian saw him for the first time with the young maid at Gatehaven, but the Colquhoun and McGregor clans had never gotten along. Would his friendship with the driver continue if he knew that Ian was a member of the clan Colquhoun?

  Ian had assumed that the Frenchman was a commoner. Normally, an earl would assume the dominant position in such cases. But the Frenchman took the high road—strange, to say the least. Ian didn’t know what this was all about, but it would be interestning to find out.

  Shannon and Ian strolled through the garden behind the mansion. Earlier, she’d been furious with him, but her anger faded like it always did. She gazed up at him.

  It certainly took Ian a long time to secure his bags and find the location of the guardhouse. She’d wondered what kept him so long and if he intended to return at all.

  He’d told her the names of several unusual flowers and other plants they found in the garden, but she hardly listened. Her heart ached because of all she’d seen and heard since leaving Scotland, and she longed to go inside. Ian kept asking her why she seemed so upset. Even a room alone in the servants’ quarters would be better than trying to verbalize her biting disappointment.

  At last, they entered the house through the back door and sat down at the kitchen table. The cook served them steaming bowls of mutton stew. Shannon didn’t feel like eating.

  When Ian took his last bite, Shannon got up and stood beside her chair. “I’m tired from the long journey. I think I’ll go to my—my room. I have no doubt that I will soon be moved to another room. But in any case, I shall keep in touch with you.”

  “You do look tired, lass. Go to your room and get some rest. And I look forward to seeing you again very soon.”

  Shannon and Ian stacked their dishes on the table by the kitchen door, and she watched him go outside. Then she went to her room.

  The rest of her bags waited at the door. She dragged them inside.

  She really did feel tired. Shannon stretched out on the bed, and if she went to sleep, all the better. As her French grandmother often said, sleep will block out all your cares. You will not have to think about them again until you wake up.

  Shannon awoke to the sound of someone knocking on her door. She got up and hurried across the room.

  “Who is there?”

  “The Earl of Northon.”

  Edward.

  She put in the key and turned the latch. Then she opened the door with such force that it banged against the planked, white wall.

  “Oh, my lord!” She reached up and grabbed him around the neck. “I knew you would come.”

  “Of course I came.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.” He lifted her into his arms, carried her inside the room and slammed the door. “I have been counting the minutes until we could be alone.”

  “Put me down this minute!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE EARL SET her on her feet, and then he kissed her. Shannon responded.

  But when one kiss melted into another, she pulled away. “We should not be alone like this.” She tried to sound as if she meant it. “You know it is wrong—as do I. My parents would never forgive us if they knew.”

  “So.” He grinned. “We will not tell them. Say that you like kissing me.”

  “Of course I like kissing you, my lord. But we must wait until we are married. Have you found me a room near my chaperone yet?”

  “No, I have not. Why should I?” He sent her a mocking grin. “I like having you in this room where we can—can be alone whenever we want. I like it very much indeed.”

  “I do not! And unless you move me to another room at once, I will run away from Gatehaven, and you will never see me again.”

  The earl dropped his arms and took a step back. “You wound me deeply.” He put his hand over his heart, and then he grinned.

  A strand of his golden hair had fallen across his forehead. The earl looked adorable and extremely handsome standing there. Shannon knew she couldn’t even pretend to be angry with him for long. At last, she smiled.

  “It is about time—my little French darling.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Lately I was beginning to think you favored Mr. Colquhoun instead of me.”

  “I have known Ian all my life, and we are just friends. I only love you, my lord. But unless you find me a room near my chaperone, I will run away— just like I said I would.”

  “I like the fire I see in your green eyes, Miss Aimee.”

  “Enough.”

  “All right,” he said at last. “I will send someone to move you to another room—but perhaps not today. My mother and grandmother were not pleased that I failed to tell them you were com
ing here. It might take time to gain favor with them again.”

  Shannon stared at him. “You have yet to tell them of our upcoming marriage?”

  He looked away briefly. “I will straighten this out soon enough.” He turned back to her and smiled. “In the meantime, we can enjoy being together.”

  “There will be no in the meantime,” she retorted. “I demand to be put in a room near my chaperone today.”

  The earl’s smile fell away. “I want you, Shannon, and I intend to have you whether my family likes it or not.”

  He said he wanted her. But did that mean that he loved her and wanted to marry her? She watched as he1/19/2014 turned and walked away.

  The butler escorted Leon and the earl into the family dining room at the back of the mansion near the kitchen. It was one of several dining rooms in the mansion—each more spacious and better equipped than the one before it. Leon had visited all of them, including the huge banquet hall with its massive oak table.

  However, this was one of his favorites. It had a large rock fireplace and walls planked in cedar, giving it a woodsy smell and flavor. His dark heart laughed, recalling how he’d introduced himself to the stranger as Etienne Gabeau. He was Leon Picard and always would be, but both the British and the Scots were too weak minded to know they were being deceived.

  The earl nodded to his servant. “You may leave us now. I will ring when we are ready to be served.”

  “Very good, my lord.”

  Leon sat down at the head of the table. Under normal circumstances, an earl would never allow such an outrage—especially in his own home. But the earl would do nothing. Leon hated weakness in anyone. The earl was no exception.

  He might have lost interest in the beautiful Rachel years ago if she hadn’t proven to be such a worthy opponent. Leon loved the chase, and Rachel had kept him running after her for most of his life.

  “I assume you are comfortable there—at the head of my table,” the earl said with a trace of sarcasm.

  “Quite comfortable.” Leon’s burst of laughter was filled with anger and contempt. “Thank you for inquiring.”

  The earl sat in the chair to Leon’s right.

  “I will sit here so we can talk in private,” the earl said. “I believe there is a financial transaction we need to discuss.”

  “Before we discuss your gambling debt, my lord, I have a question.”

  “What might that be?”

  “The last time we spoke, you mentioned that the woman you brought from Scotland was only nineteen years of age.” He chuckled softly. “Surely you jest. She would have to be over forty now—no matter how well preserved she might appear to be.”

  “I do not jest, Monsieur. Miss Aimee is nineteen—barely out of the schoolroom.”

  Leon tensed—his chest tightening again. This time he would brave through it without saying anything.

  Beads of perspiration popped out on his forehead. Moisture damped his upper lip as well. Leon rubbed his lip with his forefinger and took a deep breath. He would continue this discussion if it killed him.

  “How do you know her current age?” Leon asked.

  “She told me one day in front of her parents. I doubt she would lie with her mother and father standing by.”

  “Parents?” Leon leaned forward in his chair. “What parents?”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Aimee. Who else?”

  Leon pressed his hand against his chest as if he thought it would reduce the pain. “Tell me about Mr. and Mrs. Aimee.”

  “You look pale,” the earl said. “Are you all right? I could hand you your pill like I did the last time.”

  “There will be time for pills later. Answer my question. Tell me about Mr. and Mrs. Aimee. Do you know their names?”

  “The baker in Luss said that Mr. Aimee’s mother calls him Javier.”

  Leon tensed. “And Mrs. Aimee? What is she called?”

  “I believe he said that her mother-in-law called her Rachel.”

  “You fool!” Leon felt his face heat up. “You have brought the wrong woman!” The pain in his chest intensified. He reached for his cane and hit the table with it, causing a deep scratch in its polished surface. “Now get me my pills. And be quick about it.”

  Seated in the Frenchman’s carriage, Ian heard sounds coming from the woods nearby. He thought he heard someone whisper his name. He looked out the window on the left side of the carriage. A man stood in the shadow of the trees.

  “Ian,” Peter called out. “I am over here.”

  Peter Aimee moved into the light, motioning for Ian to join him under the trees. Then he stepped back into the shadows again.

  Ian looked around to see if the Frenchman was coming, but didn’t see anyone. He got out of the carriage, carrying his leather knapsack with him. McGregor, the portly carriage driver and footman, sat on his perch yawning. Ian wondered if the large man had been sleeping off and on since he arrived.

  Ian looked up at McGregor. “I am going to find a big tree to stand behind. If Monsieur Gabeau returns before I get back, please tell him where I can be found.”

  McGregor nodded and yawned again.

  Ian crept into the underbrush. Peter stood before him.

  Ian smiled. “It was time you arrived.”

  “Fortunately, I was missed.”

  The two men embraced as a father and son might after not seeing each other in a while. They stepped back from each other.

  “How is my sister?” Peter asked.

  “Well enough.” Ian pressed his hands to his sides and glanced down at the tops of his shoes so he wouldn’t have to look at Peter. “I am keeping a close watch. I will continue to do so, of course.” He hated to tell the location of Shannon’s room, but he had to be honest. “She was given a room in the maid’s quarters.”

  “What?”

  “It was probably done by mistake. Apparently, the earl failed to tell his mother and grandmother that Shannon would be arriving with him. They must have thought he hired her to work as a housemaid.”

  “I hope that is all he hired her to do.”

  “Stop worrying.” Ian nodded as if to assure him. “For the moment, I have the situation under control.”

  “And if that should change?”

  “I will make the necessary adjustments. You have my word on it. Now—”

  Ian smiled. “Have you eaten?” He studied Peter for a moment. Then he pulled the leather knapsack from his shoulder. “Of course not.” He handed the knapsack to Peter. “Your flesh is melting right off your bones.”

  “What is this you gave me?”

  “Food from the earl’s kitchen. You eat while we talk.”

  They sat down under a spreading oak. Peter opened the sack and pulled out a link of sausage.

  “Now.” Ian pressed his back against the trunk of the tree and tired to relax. “What did you learn after we left Rosslyn?”

  Peter swallowed a mouthful of sausage. “I learned that those stories about goblins and witches and Black Masses are not far wrong.”

  “You are, of course, joking.”

  Peter sent Ian a long, thoughtful look. Then he shook his head. “I wish that were so.”

  Ian laughed. “I do not believe you. I have known you too long to think you believe in witches and goblins. The Peter I know would never accept such nonsense.”

  “I never said I believed it.” Peter pulled out a knife and sliced another bite of the meat. “But apparently there are people who do.”

  “And who are these people you speak of?”

  “People who are said to worship the devil.”

  “No, Peter, that cannot be true.”

  Peter nodded his head as he chewed. “I hope you are right. And I will not say more until I know more. But Shannon could be in danger.”

  “How could she be in more danger than coming to Gatehaven to begin with?”

  “I do not know for sure, but the earl could be involved with these people. I will need to discover the truth. Let me explain.”
/>   “Please do,” Ian said.

  “Before I was born, my parents fled France for political reasons. An evil Frenchman followed them, but an English earl helped them escape. They eventually reached Scotland and safety, and they owe it all to the goodness of God and His servant, the Earl of Willowbrook. I promised my parents that I would visit the earl while I was in England.

  “I have never trusted the Earl of Northon,” Peter went on. “Yet the tales I heard in Rosslyn indicate that he might also be evil. I must know whether or not these stories are true. As I said, my sister could be in danger.”

  “Maybe the Earl of Willowbrook will tell you what he knows about the Earl of Northon and the Chapel at Rosslyn.”

  “That is my hope.” Peter put down his knife. “But if my suspicions are true, I will need your help, Ian, in order to convince Shannon that the Earl of Northon is the wicked man we think he is.”

  “Aye.” Ian nodded. “But convincing your sister of anything is never an easy task. As you know, I was educated in England, and as a schoolboy, one of my fellow students was a rich boy named Eddie. I cannot recall his last name, but I remember his cold blue eyes. I think the earl is Eddie, and I mentioned my assumptions to Shannon. She grew angry with me. And of course, I have no way of proving what I believe to be true.”

  “The Earl of Willowbrook might know.” Peter got up and wiped his hands with a piece of white cloth. “The earl has lived among the quality all his life. When I see him, I will ask him.” Peter offered Ian his hand in friendship. “I put Shannon’s life in your hands, Ian, until I return. The Earl of Willowbrook might not know anything about Rosslyn or the Earl of Northon. However, he might know people who do.”

  Leon opened the carriage door and climbed inside. Ian’s bags were tied to the back of the carriage. His overweight driver sat on his perch, looking sleepy. Leon grinned sheepishly. Perhaps his driver had paid a visit to one of the earl’s housemaids last night. McGregor had seemed quite friendly with the pretty one they call Millie.

  But where was Mr. Colquhoun? Leon had expected the Scotsman to be waiting inside his carriage when he arrived. He wasn’t. He looked around but didn’t see him. Idiot. Leon slammed the carriage door and considered fastening the lock. If he locked Colquhoun out of his carriage, that should teach him a lesson. But Leon wouldn’t reach his goal if he did it.