Honor's Players - By Holly Newman Page 0,86

still intact and has its own entrance.”

Atheridge nodded in understanding. Suddenly an owl hooted from somewhere deep in the woods, and he jerked spasmodically. “I must get back before I’m missed.” His words came out in a rush, his eyes darting.

“Yes, do that,” drawled Tunning, amused at his cohort’s apprehension. “But remember, one hour after all is quiet or the ledger goes to St. Ryne.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll remember,” he vowed, casting one last fearful glance around before scurrying back toward the lights of Larchside.

“Oh, mistress, the Lunnon staff were all at sixes and sevens this morning, running around, tripping over each other to get out of my lord’s way. And he, my, he was bellowing like a stuck pig, then holding his head in his hands.” Ivy lifted a dress out of the trunk and shook it out, clucking her tongue at its wrinkled condition before hanging it in the wardrobe.

“Mr. Cranston,” she continued, turning back to the trunk, “he tried to lay a cool cloth on his head, but he wouldn’t have none of it and fair knocked Mr. Cranston senseless. It were all truly comical.”

She scratched her head through her mobcap a moment and sobered. “You know, it occurred to me, and please don’t get angry, because people is people, rich or poor, anyway, it did seem to me that his lordship was truly aggrieved to find you’d gone and very worrit, too.” Ivy placed her hands on her hips and sternly eyed Elizabeth sitting on the daybed indulging in a fit of sullens. “Fact is, he seemed like a man with a broken heart, he did.”

“Ha!” Elizabeth bit out. “The only thing broken was his head.”

Her maid went back to work, her voice airy. “Kept mumbling on, saying things like, ‘oh, my love, where are you?’ and ‘love, forgive me.’ ”

“I’m sure his word stemmed merely from habit.”

“Strange habit for a man to develop, I say, unless he meant it. Most men find the words just sticks in their gullet and most nearly needs to be pried out.”

Elizabeth laughed mirthlessly. “His is a glib and well-oiled tongue.”

Her maid shrugged. “He weren’t too happy with me for not telling him you’d up and left, but he were relieved to find Thomas accompanied you, saying at least someone in his household showed sense.” She shook out another dress.

“You know, beggin’ your pardon, my lady, but I think you’re being just a mite too hard on his lordship. Oh, I’m not saying he didn’t do wrong, he did you mortal wrong. It’s just that that’s the way of men. They gets a bee in their bonnet like and hangs on to it for no reason. And truthfully, ma’am, they’re all like babes and need to be led by us and just as tykes do mischief and need punishing, they also need forgiveness or the misdeeds just get worse.”

Elizabeth lifted her head, carefully regarding her maid. “What did you just say?”

“About what, ma’am?”

“That last bit, about children doing mischief,” she said impatiently.

Ivy looked bewildered. “I just said as how children that’s been bad need love as much as punishing.”

“Yes, or the misdeeds just get worse,” Elizabeth finished for her, trailing off. She closed her eyes, remembering her own childhood with her struggles for love, how she’d turned to misdeeds and adopted a vinegary tongue to try to gain some form of attention. Were she and St. Ryne doomed to repeat the errors of her youth? No! They were a grown man and woman with the intelligence to rise above such pettiness, they had to be.

“Ivy!” she cried, bounding off the bed to hug her maid. “Repack everything. We’re returning to London tomorrow!”

“Oh, my lady, are you sure? Yes, yes, at once!” the little maid happily exclaimed. She didn’t rightly know what she said to turn about her mistress’s expression, but happy she was to see it. “And afterwards, I’ll tell Thomas to have the carriage ready first thing.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Good, but don’t tarry too long, for you’ll have to be up be’times in the morning.”

“My lady, as if I would!” Ivy disclaimed, though she blushed furiously.

Elizabeth lay on her bed, nestled among soft pillows, her eyes open, though staring unseeing at the gray and black forms and shadows of the room in the night. Idly her left hand stretched out across the expanse of empty bed next to her and a small smile curved her lips. Her eyes drifted shut, imagining, as she had in the past, the wonders to be