Alexandra said as she slowly rose, “Thank you, Ollie. Lord Gray wrote nothing else?”
Ollie Trunk blushed. “Actually, my lady, the note is fer his lordship here. I was jest so-”
“I appreciate your attention,” Douglas said, and held out his hand. Ollie gave him a twisted-up piece of paper. “Do you wish two more men, Ollie?”
“Yes, my lord. We’ll nab this man, this son of Georges Cadoudal. Aye, it’s revenge. That can make a young man’s blood hot.” And with that, Ollie nodded, blushed again when he looked at Alexandra, and backed out of the dining room.
“But why,” Douglas said slowly, “is the young man’s blood hot?”
At that moment Hollis sailed through the door, cleared his throat, and said, “Some years ago, the earl of Ravensworth used Mr. Ollie Trunk’s services. All worked out well.”
“I wonder what trouble Burke had,” Alex said. “So you approve of him, Hollis?”
“As to that, my lord, we will see. The proof of his abilities will be obvious to all, in due course.”
That was for certain, Douglas thought, aware of the small derringer in his jacket pocket. Then he looked at his butler, really looked.
Hollis glowed, no other word for it. He was standing so straight, Douglas thought he must have gained at least three inches of his younger height back. “May I inquire as to your progress with your lady, Hollis?”
“She is very near to the sticking point, my lord. I dare say that another day or two in my company will have her yelling yes.”
Alexandra said, “I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be singing hallelujahs at the thought of being your wife, Hollis. You are magnificent, any woman would bless her stars to marry you.”
“Just so, my lady, just so. As you may remember, Annabelle knew my precious Miss Plimpton. Her present hesitation is because she is concerned that my feelings for Miss Plimpton may still be too strong.”
“Good God, Hollis,” Douglas said. “Miss Plimpton has been dead these forty years!”
“Forty-two years and six and one months, my lord.”
Alexandra said, “That is surely enough time to cleanse out all residual feelings you cherished for Miss Plimpton.”
“That’s as may be, my lady,” Hollis said. “But Annabelle frets. She wants my heart whole.”
“And will she have your heart whole, Hollis?” Alex asked.
“As you said, my lady, forty years have passed. I have told Annabelle that an old heart has more free space in it than a young heart, more room to take into itself the most profound of feelings and sentiments.”
“When will we meet her, Hollis?”
“She, my lord, has consented to have tea with you and your ladyship this very afternoon. Actually, I am here to inform you of this felicitous news. Ollie’s news was perhaps a bit more important, so I allowed him to precede me.”
“Er, that is quite splendid, Hollis. Have Cook make her lemon seed cakes.”
“It is done, my lord. Annabelle will be here at precisely four o’clock. I, myself, will fetch her from that lovely quaint village of Abington, where she has resided now for nearly four months.”
“Abington is a charming village,” Alex said. “Does Miss Trelawny have relatives there, Hollis?”
“It is Mrs. Trelawny, my lady. Annabelle has been widowed for many years now. She’s all alone, but her husband left her a neat competence so she is quite comfortable. I, naturally, will make her more comfortable than she is now.”
“Why did she select Abington to live?” Douglas asked. “It is lovely, to be sure, but not the center of anything I can think of.”
“I much enjoy Abington myself, my lord, indeed I have spent a good deal of time there over the years, going through the church records. They extend well back into the thirteenth century, if you can believe that. It turns out, my lord, that Annabelle also admires the church, and indeed, that is how I met her, walking to the rectory.”
Douglas nodded, thinking of the sheaf of ancient church records he’d bought from Noddington Abbey, and given to Hollis years before.
Douglas rose when the door closed on Hollis. “I must speak to Mother.” He sighed. “I do not believe it would do Hollis’s prospects any good if she is present to meet Mrs. Trelawny.”
Alex said, “No, she would likely have Hollis’s lady running from the Hall, shrieking or crying. She is so remarkably healthy. It quite makes one shudder.”
He laughed, walked past her, only to turn and lift her up in his arms and swing her around. She was laughing down at him, his face nearly in her bosom, when the door opened and a familiar sour voice said, “Unseemly! Disgraceful! Why haven’t you taught this girl how to behave, Douglas? You have been married to her more years than I can bear to count, and still she is poking herself out and encouraging you to wildness.”
“Hello, Mother.”
“Hello, Mother-in-law.”
“I have decided to have my luncheon in here. You will both sit down since I have matters of grave concern to discuss with you.”
Douglas said from his impressive height, still holding his wife in his arms, “Do forgive us, Mother, but Alex and I have very important matters to attend to. We will visit with you at dinner.”
“No! Wait, it’s my maid, the slovenly creature, she isn’t-”
They missed the last, thank God. The two servants who saw the earl and countess dash from the dining room, laughing like children, cutting off the dowager’s moldy voice, would have cheered, if Hollis wouldn’t have berated them endlessly for such behavior.
“Miserable old besom,” Tilda, the downstairs maid, whispered to Ellie behind her hand. “She’ll live forever, my ma told me, said her meanness keeps her healthy. She said she wouldn’t doubt if she kept a flask filled with rum in her bedchamber.”
“I’ll ask that poor maid of hers,” said Ellie. “Rum? Hmmm.” The two of them laughed.
Douglas and Alexandra ran, hand in hand, into the bright cold afternoon, to the gazebo that Douglas’s grandfather had built on a small hill above an ornamental pond.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“ SIT DOWN, MY dear,” Douglas said. “We’ve things to speak about.”
Alexandra sat watching her husband pace up and down the length of the gazebo.
Douglas said, “Talking to you about this helps focus my brain. Georges’s two children and his sister-in-law left Paris immediately after his death.”
“Yes.”
“I received a message that the children traveled to Spain, but soon thereafter they were gone again. I still don’t know where they ended up. Nor have I been able to find out what sort of financial situation they were in at the time of their father’s death.”
Alexandra said matter-of-factly, “There must be sufficient money, for the son has funds to hire men to kill you.”
He nodded. “The son is currently in London, but that could change in an instant.”
“He will make a mistake, Douglas, you’ll see, and we’ll get him.”
“I’ll tell you, Alex, the thought of this young man hiding behind a tree, just waiting for me to come into his gun range, is beyond galling. I want him; I want him on my own terms.”
“I’ve begun to wonder about the warnings that Lord Wellington received. Maybe the son arranged for you to learn that Georges Cadoudal was involved. Maybe, when he used your name, he wanted you to know exactly who he was. He wants drama, attention. He wants you to admire his prowess, his perseverance.”
“He wanted me to know he was coming to kill me? Aye, I see. A warning then. That first time he shot at me was a warning. He wanted me to be afraid, he wanted to play with me before he killed me, but before he killed me, he wanted me to know who he was. I wish we knew why he’s doing this.”