To give her credit, she didn't shoot out of her chair and run for the door, but it was close, and very apparent that it was close, that she was fighting the urge to do just that. Derek shook his head as he followed her out. Strange girl. If she were to be taken at face value, he would be truly con-
founded. But he'd been with enough sophisticated women
to know that it was all part of the game, these little contrivances, done to amuse their gentlemen, not to deceive or give false impressions.
There was perhaps an hour left of daylight when they finally reached the little tenants cottage on Derek's property. It had one room combining a kitchen area on one wall, with
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a dining table in the middle, and on the other side of the room, a small area that could be construed as the parlor on IV because it contained a large stuffed chair. There was a single bedroom off the back with a tiny water closet, replete with a round barrel bath rather than a tub. No modernizations here.
The cottage was sparsely furnished and quite dirty at the moment, attesting to a long vacancy. There were a few rusted cooking pots hanging on the wall by the sink, a small table with two chairs for eating, the one large stuffed chair with a
dust blanket covering it, and the bedroom containing only a
bed, no wardrobe, no bedding. But the cottage was sturdily made, no drafts sneaking in through cracked or rotting boards. All it really needed was a good cleaning and a few
necessities to make it quite cozy.
After a sigh over the condition of the place, Derek fetched an armload of firewood from a shed that was out back and got a fire going. Dusting his hands off after he'd finished, he turned to Kelsey expectantly. "I need to check in at the house," he told her, "to let them know I've arrived. I'd as soon it not become common knowledge who you are and why you're here, so the less people who see you, the better. I've never kept a woman here before, you understand, and having it known will raise brows among my staff and get back to m'father, which I'd rather not happen. But I'll have bedding and other essentials sent down to you, and return shortly m'self. You'll be all right here alone for a little while?" "Certainly," Kelsey replied.
He gave her a bright smile, apparently pleased that she wasn't going to complain about the accommodations. "Splendid. And perhaps dinner in town when I return? They have several excellent eating establishments as I recall, and it's only about a mile from here." He said that as he ap-
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c'm c5 a y T o u f o v e OW e -,v-, proached her, where she was sitting at the table, and he bent
1, r a brief kiss. "I'm lookina forward to ton4y_ht,
to give
e
M'dear. I hope you are as well.//
The blush was quick to come, but he didn't stay to notice. Kelsey sighed as the door closed behind him. Tonight? No, she wasn't looking forward to it in the least. And to keep her rnind from dwelling on it, she set about doing what she could in the way of cleaning after a bit of exploring turned up two crates in the shed out back, one filled with broken dishes, the other with a bucket and rags.
She made use of the rags, dusting the few pieces of furniture and wiping down the windows and the few empty kitchen cupboards. But there wasn't much else she could do without some strong soap and a broom. So she was soon back to waiting for Derek's return and the arrival of the things she needed to make the cottage habitable.
It was soon dark, however, and the strain of the day was
fast catching up to her. Kelsey had been much more com-
fortable sitting on his lap for that short while in the carriage than sitting across from him the rest of the day, knowing he was watching her, wondering what he was thinking. That had been quite tiring indeed. So she was asleep in the stuffed chair with only a single blanket and the fire for warmth before anyone came by.
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LSEY HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO THINK WHEN SHE AWOKE the next morning to find the cottage just as it had been the previous night. Apparently Derek hadn't returned, or if he had, he hadn't bothered to wake her. Obviously he hadn't stayed, because he wasn't there now. Neither were the essentials he'd promised would be delivered.
She fretted about it for several hours, wondering what could have happened to change his plans. Nothing occurred to her. And all she could do was wait. He'd made it clear, before he left her the night before, that he didn't want her appearing on his doorstep, so she couldn't even go looking for him to find out what had happened.
At least the basket that Mrs. Hershal had had prepared for her, and that she'd never gotten around to opening yesterday, had been brought into the cottage. She was ravenous. Upon examining the basket, she found a plate of assorted pastries wrapped in a towel and a jar of jam with a knife for spreading it.
The four pastries, stale now, would have served her well
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enough for her missed breakfast yesterday. Today, however, having missed her dinner last night as well, they didn't keep tier belly quiet for more than a few hours, making her wish that she'd slept longer, rather than waking with the first daylight that slipped through the curtainless windows.
Toward noon, she was too worried to heed Derek's warning about not raising eyebrows with her presence. Whatever he'd meant to send to her no longer mattered; it was food that concerned her the most now, and her lack of means for obtaining any. He'd left her no money and no transportation. if he didn't show up soon, she was going to be in serious trouble, the very kind she'd sold herself to avoid.
But, of course, he would show up. She had no doubt of that. It was just a matter of when. But he'd undoubtedly forgotten that there was no food in the cottage, and when he still hadn't made an appearance by that afternoon, her hunger prompted her to ignore his warning about showing up on his doorstep. There was no help for it. She had to make an effort to find him.
The moment she opened the front door she found his letter instead. It had been tucked into the edge of the door and fluttered to the ground when she opened it. Of course, she didn't know it was from him until she broke the seal and read it.
Dear Kelsey,
My father's messenger pounced on me as soon as I walked in my house. I've been summoned to Haverston with all due haste, which means I should have been there yesterday. I don't dare waste another moment, which is why I'm sending this note rather than myself.
Don't know what this is about, but I should return
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e". (3 o h a n n a f_i n d s e y
.091@
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within a day or so. If not, I will send word. But you should be fine until we meet again. Until then ...
Yours Respectfully,
Derek
She should be fine for a day or two? When he'd obviously left so quickly that he forgot to arrange for the things she needed to make the cottage livable? And how soon would it be before he realized he hadn't made proper arrangements for her and rectified that? When he was worried about why his father had summoned him and so would be thinking about that rather than about her? It could be several days ...
This was so inconsiderate! So thoughtless! And because she was already so hungry, Kelsey lost her temper com-
pletely and tossed his letter into the fireplace, where she would have liked to toss Derek Malory instead.
It took her about thirty minutes to track down his house, which was the largest in the area, very large indeed. It wasn't just a country house, as she'd been thinking; it was a full-
blown estate, with stables and working farms, and an abun-
dance of tenants.
She asked to speak to the housekeeper and explained to the woman that Lord Malory had rented her the cottage for a short time while she was vacationing and had promised it would be properly furnished and stocked with provender, which it wasn't. A simple matter to be rectified, or so she had hope
d. The housekeeper didn't make it so simple. "I don't have anything to do with the tenants on Lord Jason-er, Lord Derek's land, m'lady. I've got enough to do seeing to this big old manor and the lazy help I've got to work with. Lord Derek's factor sees to the tenants and keeps em happy, he does, and I'll send him 'round to you just as
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soon as he returns at the end of the week. He'll take care 'o
your corriplaints right quick I'm sure."
J/you don't understand," Kelsey tried to explain. "I've already paid for the use of the cottage and didn't bring any money with me, only the few clothes I would need, because I was assured that food and bedding and everything neces-
sary would be provided."
By then the housekeeper was frowning. "Let me see your lease, then. I have to account for everything in this house, including the food. I can't be handing it out to His Lordship's tenants without his say-so, and he didn't say so to me when
he was here last night."
There was no lease, of course. And the only proof Kelsey had that she even knew Derek was the letter she'd tossed
into the fire.
Because of that, she was forced to say, "Never mind. I'll make arrangements for credit in Bridgewater if you'll just direct me to it." "Certainly, m'lady," the housekeeper said, agreeable again now that she didn't have to dole out anything from her larder. "It's just down the east road a'ways." And she pointed in that direction.
Kelsey left the manor in a quandary. If she hadn't lied in saying she'd rented the cottage, she might have gotten the help she needed. But she'd tried to keep her relationship with Derek quiet, as he'd wanted, and look what that got her. A persnickety housekeeper who hadn't even offered her tea
and cakes. 0
She returned to the cottage even more downhearted and much more hungry. She had no way to obtain credit, of course. She could just see herself asking for a loan on the basis of being Derek Malory's mistress. A banker would laugh her right out of his office.
But she did have a few things she could sell in town to at
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least buy some food for the moment. She had a pocket watc which was a fine piece with two inset diamonds, a gift fro her parents on her fourteenth birthday. She also had th horrid red dress. She was going to hate giving up the watch but she really had no choice.
She stuffed the dress into Mrs. Hershal's basket, which she would need to carry back the food she was going to buy, and set out on the long walk to town. The cottage might not have any of the proper necessities, but there was plenty of fresh water from the pump in the kitchen and plenty of firewood in the shed out back to at least keep her warm. And she even had one plate to eat on, and a jar of jam.
Kelsey was almost feeling a little better as she walked to Bridgewater late that afternoon. Almost. But the small bit of optimism she was clinging to didn't last long, not when each jeweler she found and talked to had no interest in buying the watch from her.
It was almost dark when she gave up on the watch and tried to sell the red dress.
The seamstress, a Mrs. Lafleur, had been about to close her shop for the day when Kelsey arrived and pulled the red dress out of the basket for her to examine. But after she explained that she would like to sell it, you'd have thought she'd insulted the woman. "In my shop?" the woman exclaimed, eyeing the dress as
if Kelsey had let a snake loose on her counter. "I don't cater to that sort of clientele, miss, nor will I ever." "I'm sorry," Kelsey was forced to say. "Perhaps you know someone who does?" "Not likely," Mrs. Lafleur huffed. "I might give you a few coppers for the lace-if you can remove it without damaging it. Don't have time to do it myself. Lost the girl was helping me, and Lady Ellen has ordered a new wardrobe for her daughter, to be delivered next week. She's my best customer,
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and lim going to lose her if I don't get it finished on time."
Kelsey hadn't asked to hear the woman's troubles, when
she had so many of her own. But at least they did give her
an idea. , She suggested, "Buy the dress from me for five pounds and I'll help you with Lady Ellen's order-for further corn-
pensation, of course." "Five pounds! When all I can use is the lace? One pound for the lace, and you finish three dresses that need completing-without further compensation." "One pound for the lace, and another ten pounds to finish two dresses," Kelsey countered. "Ten pounds for two dresses?" the woman sputtered, her already ruddy face getting even redder. "I don't even pay that much for a month's work!"
Kelsey rubbed the sleeve of her spencer. "I happen to know what clothing of good quality costs, Mrs. Lafleur. If you weren't paying your helper that much per month, then you were robbing her."
Unfortunately, Kelsey's stomach growled very loudly at that moment. By the look that entered Mrs. Lafleur's eyes upon hearing it, Kelsey knew right then that the woman had the upper hand.
Kelsey was once again forced to change her tune, saying, "Very well, ten pounds for the completion of three of the dresses-and my stitching is excellent, by the way."
By the time Kelsey finished haggling with the woman, it was full dark. But she had a one-pound note in hand, with the promise of another four when she completed the five dresses that were now stuffed into her basket along with needles and thread and scissors. At least Lady Ellen's daughter was under ten years of age, so there wasn't that much yardage involved in the sewing.
Unfortunately, she couldn't find a single food vendor or
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shop still open at that hour, so she was forced to eat at inn instead, which cost her three times what she had hoped to spend for the same amount of food. But she had a few coins left to buy a bit more food the next day at normal prices. However, she'd need to buy a candle too, so she could work on the dresses at night. And at least one decent cooking pot, and some soap, and ...
It had not been a pleasant day by any means. Ironically, she'd found herself in the exact situation that she'd sold herself to avoid, her only boon being that her family had been saved from facing the same.
She had the sniffles by the time she got back to the cottage, which was now as cold inside as it was outside. But her belly was full for the time being. And she had hope of more mo-
ney's being available once she finished the work she'd contracted for.
She was going to survive-at least long enough to murder Derek Malory when he returned.
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REK HADN'T BEEN HOME To HAVERSTON IN SEVERAL months. Like most young men his age, he preferred the ex-
citement, the sophistication, and the variety of entertainments to be had in London, rather than the country life. But he loved Haverston. The two estates he'd been given to cut his teeth on, as it were, weren't home to him yet, not like Haverston was.
He imagined his uncles-Edward, James, and Anthonyfelt the same way, having each been raised at Haverston. His cousin Regina had also been raised there, having come to live at Haverston after her parents died. In fact, Reggie, only four years younger, was more like Derek's sister, the two of them having grown up at Haverston together.
Derek had arrived in the middle of the night. He'd taken one of the horses from his stable, rather than the carriage, to expedite the trip. And he'd been damn tempted to wake his father to find out what he'd been summoned for. But the appalled look on the face of the footman who'd let him in, when he'd asked "I don't suppose you'd care to go wake
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m'father?" had sent him off to his old room instead to awal the morning.
And calmer reasoning surmised that that had been the proper thing to do. After all, if he'd been called home to get the roof dropped on his head, annoying his father even more by waking him would just make that roof a bit heavier. Not that he could think of anything he'd done recently that would
have Jason up in arms. In fact, he couldn't come up with a single thing to account for this summons.
Of course, Jason Malory didn't need a specific reason to summon a member of his family to him. He was the oldest living Malory, which made him head of the family, and it was his habit to bring the family to him, rather than vice versa, whether he just wished to chat or impart some information-or drop the roof. That Derek had other things on
his agenda, in particular, a fascinating woman who was just waiting for him to bed her, wasn't the least bit pertinent. " When Jason demanded your presence, you went. It was that simple.
So Derek waited until morning. But he was downstairs an
looking for his father not an hour after dawn. He ran int Molly first, which wasn't surprising. Molly always seeme
to know when he was visiting, and always made a point o
seeking him out to welcome him home. It had become! such a habit that if he didn't see her on one of his visits he'd think something was wrong.
Molly Fletcher was an exceptionally pretty woman of middle years, with ashen blond hair and large brown eyes, who'd worked her way up from being a downstairs maid to the top honor in the servants' hierarchy, being Haverston's housekeeper for the last twenty years. She'd worked hard to
better herself over the years, too, getting rid of the cockney accent that Derek could remember her having when he'd
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been a child, and developing a calm composure that would
do credit to a saint. e in the house, from the cook
And like every other fernal right down to the laundress, Molly had always treated both Derek and Reggie in a motherly fashion, imparting advice, caution/ scoldings, and concern as she saw fit.
That, of course, was a natural result of there not being a