Mistress of Sins (Dredthorne Hall #3) - Hazel Hunter Page 0,8
heard voices,” her mother said, and pointed down. “I came over and saw men walking across the property, as bold as you please. The gardeners have already gone home for the day.”
“I will tell Barton, and ask him to check the grounds.” Jennet helped her mother back to bed before she placed the tray beside her. “Perhaps they were travelers.”
“The Romany have gone south, where it is warmer,” Margaret told her, and then saw the cake. “What is this? Lemon cake?” She scowled. “Cook did not make this, for we have no lemons, and we ate the last of the berries yesterday. You went to the village.”
“I did.” Jennet sat down on the edge of the bed. “I needed some thread, and Mrs. Holloway’s order came in. I thought you would enjoy a little treat.”
“You cannot distract me with cake,” Margaret told her before popping a raspberry into her mouth. “You should have stayed at home, with me. We are about to be cursed.”
“I have arranged to avoid any curses.” Jennet brushed some of her curls back from her face. “Catherine and I are going to the masquerade at Dredthorne Hall together. She promises not to leave my side for a moment.”
Her mother sighed. “That is why you brought the cake, to ease the blow.”
“Mama, you leave me little choice. If I go, we will not be cursed,” she pointed out. “Catherine will see to it that no one harms me, and I return home safely.”
Margaret’s bottom lip trembled as she met her gaze. “You think I am a foolish old woman, but I know these things are true. There has been shadow on this family ever since your father died. You should be married now, and a mother, and happy, and you are not.”
Jennet took hold of her hands. “I will go to the ball, and try very hard to meet a fine young gentleman. Perhaps he will offer for me, and give me children, and that will make you happy.”
“You have never been the same, you know,” her mother said softly. “Ever since he left, you have kept your heart locked up against any other. I daresay Wellington himself could offer for you, and you would refuse him.”
“His Grace is already married, and rather busy at the moment.” She leaned close to whisper, “I have heard that he possesses a hooked nose.”
She was finally able to make Margaret laugh, and stayed with her until she finished her cake and was growing drowsy. After she kissed her goodnight, she carried the tray downstairs and mentioned to Mrs. Holloway what Margaret had said about the men wandering on the property.
“They may be poachers, or hands that have lost their positions,” the housekeeper said. “I’ll ask Barton to have a look tonight, and check the stables and wood shed.”
Chapter 4
On a hill overlooking the Dredthorne Hall estate, Ruban waited alone beneath an old horse-chestnut tree. The overgrowth that had concealed much of the old house had been cut back, and the rear grounds prepared for a spring garden. In England everything was about appearances, and someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to make the decrepit hall look almost inviting.
While the English danced to music here, others dear to Ruban languished in prisons, or starved in their camps.
A crackle of heavy footsteps through the leaves drew his attention to the large, broad figure approaching him. He wore the heavy, practical garb of a woodsman, but the axe he carried on his shoulder was merely for show. The villagers paid no attention to any common laborers they might see.
Jean-Pierre stopped as soon as he saw the gleam of the pistol and held up his empty hands. “Bonsoir.”
“Speak only in English.” How many times would he and the other men have to be told that? Ruban felt impatient. “Where are the others?”
“Deep in de woods.” The big man jerked his chin in the direction of Dredthorne’s back property. “Too cold to sleep on de ground, and we had to leave de other place. Old lady see us. We find a sheep-man’s hut.”
“Shepherd’s hut,” Ruban corrected. His English was appalling; perhaps it was better they speak in French.
Jean-Pierre shrugged. “Dat is where we wait for you.”
“I will be otherwise engaged.” Dropping the heavy haversack at his feet, Ruban nudged it with a boot toe. “Food, enough for three days. Do not light any fires, and stay out of sight until I signal you. Then meet me at the rendezvous point.”
He grunted. “You