Noble Scoundrel - Amy Sandas Page 0,32

her brother as they sat side by side on the burgundy sofa, Katherine noted that he appeared relaxed and confident. They’d retired to the drawing room after supper, having agreed to welcome Hale and his daughter together. Frederick wanted to ensure Claire wouldn’t be frightened by the unfamiliarity of the mansion.

Although she was pleased to see her brother so calm and accepting of the new circumstances, it made her own anxiety that much more apparent.

When she and Frederick had returned to the house a few hours ago, they’d been relieved to discover their carriage and driver had both returned safely. A quick interview with the coachman revealed that after he’d been thrown from the perch by their attackers, he’d resourcefully managed to catch a ride with a hack traveling in the same direction. They’d lost sight of the ducal carriage at one point, but eventually discovered it abandoned in the street. Though the coachman performed a search of the area, the Blackwells were nowhere to be found, nor were the two men who’d commandeered the vehicle.

The coachman was visibly relieved to find his employers had made it home safely on their own, and Katherine was equally pleased to find that, aside from a bump on the head, the man had not been unduly harmed.

After freshening herself up with a bath, Katherine had called a quick meeting with the household’s senior servants. She’d explained the circumstances regarding the current threat as best she could without going into detail. The servants had obviously known of Frederick’s disappearance, and with this latest incident, there was no reason to try to conceal what they were up against. The more the household staff understood of the situation, the better prepared they might be to observe and react to anything unusual.

There was also the matter of Hale.

She glanced to the clock over the mantel. It was getting late. Where on earth was the man?

Just as she had the thought, Foster stepped into the doorway.

“Mr. Hale and Miss Claire have arrived,” the butler intoned evenly. “Shall I send for Mrs. Wallace?”

Katherine and Frederick rose to their feet in unison. “That won’t be necessary. We shall see to them.”

“They await you in the hall.”

“Thank you. Please have their things brought to the rooms we’ve prepared.”

The butler nodded and turned to leave. When she would have followed, Frederick stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Don’t worry, Kit. Mr. Hale will help us.”

Katherine offered her brother a smile. “What makes you think I’m worried?”

The boy rolled his eyes in answer.

She gave him a playful swat on his shoulder. He knew her far too well. “Let’s go welcome them. I imagine you’re anxious to show Claire her new room.”

It had been easy enough to place Hale’s daughter in one of the bedrooms on the third floor near the schoolroom, and her nurse was given the smaller room next door. Since Frederick had chosen a room on the same floor rather than take up residence in the master suite, he was just down the hall from the girl.

Figuring out where to put Hale, however, had been a much greater challenge.

Although she was tempted to place Hale in the servants’ quarters, which would position him as far from the main part of the house as possible, it seemed counterintuitive to his purpose in being there.

After a great deal of agonizing over propriety and practicality, she finally settled on giving him a bedroom on the second floor near the stairs that could take him up to the level containing the children’s rooms within a few short minutes if necessary.

Unfortunately, that meant he was located along the same hallway as Katherine’s bedroom, though on the opposite end.

Just the idea of him being so near had her stomach tightening.

Frederick could claim it was no different than having a butler or some such senior servant about, but Katherine knew it was so very different.

They found Mr. Hale standing in the center of the gleaming parquet floor of their grand hall in all his overmuscled glory. Somehow, the former boxer made the entryway—which had been designed to inspire awe and deference in those who visited the ducal mansion—a practically insignificant setting for his overwhelming presence.

The coat he wore was dark grey wool and in a simple style that flattered his broad-shouldered form. Apparently, he was averse to proper neckcloths since she’d yet to see him wear one. His buckskin-colored breeches shaped snug to his solid thighs, and his knee-high boots were scuffed and in need of a