Free Christian Regency Romantic Suspense
This post is part of my serialized novel, The Spinster’s Christmas.If you’re new, you can begin with the summary and complete chapter list on the Intro Page.
Chapter 14
Gerard almost didn’t notice the footman. He wanted to say it was because he was distracted, but in reality, it was because Michael was that accomplished.
After Miranda left him, Gerard was too cold to remain out of doors and was seeking the comfort of his fire and perhaps a pot of tea with a splash of whiskey in it for good measure. However, the way to his bedroom was blocked by footmen leaving the music room, each carrying some chairs which had been stored there. They headed toward the drawing room, and Gerard guessed that the extra chairs were for the guests tonight. Felicity had planned a lavish dinner party for this evening.
A certain footman passed Gerard, his ill-fitting livery looking as though it had been made for someone else. At first, the man’s face was that of a complete stranger. Then suddenly the servant turned a blue-green eye toward him and winked.
Gerard ground his teeth.
He headed slowly down the hallway, past the music room and toward his bedroom. He paused at his door, waiting.
The butler stood supervising while the footmen silently wove around him. The footman in question exited the drawing room, returning to the music room for more chairs, but Gerard made certain to send him a pointed glare before going into his bedroom. Gerard settled in front of the fireplace and waited.
In a few moments, there was a scratch at the door. “Come,” he bellowed.
“You're cross as a bear,” Michael said as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. He had suddenly become Michael again, rather than the strange servant Gerard had first seen.
“Why are you in that livery?” Gerard demanded.
Michael tried to look innocent as he tugged at his sleeves. “I should think it obvious. And you will surely get me sacked, wanting to speak to me when I should be working.”
“It is too risky for you to insinuate yourself as one of the servants,” Gerard said. “We discussed this when you first arrived.”
“I cannot protect you if I continue in my guise as a peddler in the village,” Michael said.
“My father—your uncle—may recognize you, you fool.”
Michael gave him a level look. “You did not. And you are forgetting, Cousin, that day in France. I can fool him, I assure you.”
Gerard’s ire drained out of him.
Two years ago, Gerard had led a crew on shore to capture some Frenchmen who were resupplying their ship from a French village. There was a skirmish and some of the peasants had been captured along with the seamen.
Gerard had stared his cousin in the face and not recognized him until hours later, when the French peasant managed to unobtrusively whisper to him with Michael’s voice. He had confessed that he was on assignment for the Home Office and had asked Gerard to find a way to free him. There was apparently more to Michael’s duties than simply being one of Wellington’s junior officers.
After the woman’s attack on Christmas Eve, Gerard had written to Michael, whom he knew was on leave at home this Christmas, to ask for his help in investigating the woman. Michael had gone so far as to darken his hair, and when posing as a peddler, the dirt hid his features. Now, he had no dirt but he had done something to make his face appear sallow, and when Gerard had seen him carrying chairs, his gait and posture had been completely different from his normal upright carriage.
Michael gave his carefree smile. “Besides, no one notices servants.”
Gerard admitted he was probably correct.
Michael continued, “The peddler guise was useful when I became drinking partners with nearly every man in the local tavern, looking for any local family with a connection to you or Miranda. But after the attack yesterday, I thought it would be better to be here to protect her. And to ensure the safety of my ungrateful relative, of course.”
“I am not ungrateful,” Gerard growled. “I am concerned about you.”
“I am touched by your solicitude.” Michael gave a short bow. “It is mutual. Especially when you insist on attempting to lure the men out of hiding by dangling yourself as bait.”
“I cannot sit here in safety and do nothing. Surely you understand that.”
Michael's eyes were serious as they rested upon him. “Yes, I do.”
A sudden frantic knocking at the door made them both turn. In an instant, Michael's face underwent an astounding transformation. He altered the muscles of his jaw and lips, relaxing some and tightening others, and suddenly his chin seemed weaker, his eyes half-lidded, and in combination with the slouch of his shoulders and the makeup on his face, he hardly looked like himself. He shuffled to the door to answer it.
Miranda started in surprise at the sight of him, but her eye slid over him to Gerard. Her face had turned so pale that her skin was translucent.
“Miranda, what’s wrong?” He rose to his feet, ignoring the protest from his knee.
She gulped and glanced at Michael.
“Hurry, come inside,” Gerard said.
Miranda did not even hesitate at the impropriety and slipped into his bedroom. Michael closed the door behind her and relaxed his facial muscles again, which made her squeak in surprise.
“Miranda, may I introduce my cousin, Lieutenant Michael Coulton-Jones. Miss Miranda Belmoore.”
“Charmed.” Michael bowed over her hand and gave one of the dashing smiles that caused every woman he’d ever known to swoon at his feet.
Gerard scowled at him. However, he was gratified when Miranda pulled her hand from his quickly and turned toward Gerard.
But now that she was in private with him, she seemed anxious and nervous. “Gerard, you should sit. And not because of your knee.”
“What is it?” He sank gratefully back into the sofa while she settled on a chair.
“I …” She squeezed her eyes shut as if trying to block out a horrible memory. “I know who wants to kill me.”
“Who?”
She pressed her fist to her mouth, and he saw she was trembling. He reached for her, no matter that Michael stood by the fire with an interested expression on his face, and held her hand in his own,
The eyes she raised to his were tortured. “Gerard, it is all my fault.”
“Miranda—”
“Do you remember what I told you about my parents? They hired a new nursery-maid when I was six years old, but they were unconcerned with the goings on in the nursery. Harriet …” She swallowed. “Harriet was cruel and told my parents that I was clumsy.” She absently ran her hand over her forearm. “And so my parents never questioned the bruises.”
He had to concentrate to keep from crushing her hand. A rage built up in his chest, tightening every muscle in his body. He focused on the delicate bones of her fingers, so fragile next to his. He could protect her now. He would protect her now from anyone who would harm her, because he loved her.
“It went on for two years,” Miranda said. “Then one day I found my mother’s diamond bracelet under a bush in the garden. She had put the house in an uproar because she’d lost the bracelet two or three nights before at a dinner party she’d given. The bracelet must have slipped off when she went walking in the gardens after dinner. But instead of returning it, I hid the bracelet in Harriet’s dresser. On Harriet’s day off, one of the under-maids watched me, so I casually mentioned a pretty bracelet I’d seen Harriet wearing. It took very little encouragement to get the maid to look through Harriet’s things and find my mother’s bracelet. Harriet was sacked immediately and the maid promoted to an upper-maid.”
“It’s Harriet doing this?” Michael asked. Gerard had nearly forgotten he was there. “After all these years?”
“No one else in the neighborhood would hire her,” Miranda said. “She was forced to go to London to find work, but fell on hard times. I heard that she had died, in a … brothel.”
Gerard saw the guilt in her expression. “You were only eight years old.”
“I was old enough to know it would be hard for her to find another situation once she’d been accused of theft,” Miranda said. “And later I understood what had happened to her in London. But at the time, all I felt was relief that she was gone.” Her fingers clenched hard in his palm.
“You never saw the woman in the woods,” Gerard said. “You can’t know it’s Harriet.”
“Jean, one of the maids, alluded to how I could have her sacked,” Miranda said. “She couldn’t know unless Harriet had told her. No one else knew that I had hidden that bracelet among Harriet’s things in order to get her sacked. She must have used Jean to open the garden gate so those two men could attack us.”
“No, she couldn’t have known the two of you would walk outside that night,” Michael said.
“Perhaps they would have entered the house and waited for you,” Gerard said grimly.
“It seems incredible that Harriet happened to find you,” Michael said. “And those two men—she must have hired them. There is something about this that seems odd.”
“I considered leaving,” Miranda said in a low voice.
Gerard’s heart twisted once, hard. “There is nowhere you could go. You would be like Harriet.”
“It would draw her away from all of you.”
“This is not some penance you must pay,” he said fiercely.
“We can use this to our advantage,” Michael said. “Set a trap. We nearly had them at the skating party.”
“I won’t put Miranda in danger,” Gerard told his cousin.
“She wouldn’t be. I will need to think on this.”
“We will both think on this. In the meantime, Miranda, remain close to the house and do not go anywhere alone. Since Michael is now one of the servants, he can keep an eye on you.”
Michael gave him a smug smile. “I told you it would be useful for me to be here.”
Gerard gave him a dark look. “You are useful only if you are not caught out.”
Chapter 15
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