‘Yes, that is perfectly plausible, but I wonder if I cannot manage to explore further.’ Guy let the greys walk on and regarded the front of Winterbourne Hall critically. ‘I am glad that is not my brickwork or my roof,’ he remarked. ‘I wonder if the work you observed was to repair the house or simply to get it into good enough condition to sell. It all depends on what their debts are and where they come from, I presume.’
No one materialised when they halted at the front door so Guy drove on round to the stables. Hester remained meekly in the background while he embarked on a lengthy conversation with the groom who took the horses, making no complaint until he finally joined her and began to walk round to the front door again.
‘You certainly have the knack of extracting information,’ she said admiringly. ‘Sir Lewis has been selling horses, the work on the repairs to the rear elevation has stopped and I could swear that man was within an inch of asking you if you had any vacancies in your stables.’
Guy accepted the compliment with a smile that caused Hester’s heart to contract, it was extremely unfair of him to have such expressive eyes that seemed to speak to her without any need of words. ‘It begins to fill out the picture. I will ask my London agent to make enquiries about Sir Lewis and see if we can garner any information about his debts.’
The butler o
pened the door to their knocking and appeared to be on the point of saying that the Nugents were not at home when Hester skipped briskly past Guy and into the hall. ‘Dear Miss Nugent,’ she gushed. ‘I know she would not deny me for I have called to enquire after her health. I could not bear to think of my new friend being unwell and-oh, good afternoon, Sir Lewis.’
He appeared from the library into the shadowed hall so silently that Hester jumped. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Lattimer, Westrope. How kind of you to call, but I am afraid Sarah is from home, staying with an aunt in Aylesbury to recover from having a tooth pulled.’
To Hester’s frustration he showed no sign of either stepping forward into the better light, or of inviting them in. ‘How dreadful! No wonder she was feeling so low the other day when I was here if she had toothache. Was it an abscess?’
‘Yes, rather a bad one.’ Lewis appeared to hesitate and Hester was very conscious of the difference between his attitude now and when she had visited alone. ‘Perhaps you would care to take tea?’
At last! ‘That would be delightful-’
‘But I am afraid we have an appointment elsewhere,’ Guy interjected smoothly. ‘However, I do wonder if I might trespass on your hospitality and ask for the loan of one of your books of local history and antiquarian lore? I find the subject fascinating and Miss Lattimer happened to mention that you had a collection of works by a relative-’ He broke off and simply stood there, radiating a willingness to encumber the Nugents’ hallway for as long as it took to get what he wanted.
Hester hither lips to prevent herself smiling. It was refreshing to see someone else on the receiving end of Guy’s technique. ‘Your great-uncle William, was it not?’ she added helpfully.
‘Yes, of course.’ Lewis appeared to pull himself together and accept their presence. ‘I’ll just go and find you something.’ He turned back through the library door with his uninvited guests hard on his heels.
‘Such a charming room,’ Hester gushed.
‘And such a well-lit one,’ Guy added, his eyes fixed on his host’s head.
Lewis turned, the morning sun streaming through the casements and directly on to his face, its smooth, handsome planes unmarked by so much as a shaving scratch.
Hester felt her breath leave her throat in a sigh which, just in time, she turned into a cough. She knew she could not meet Guy’s eyes.
‘Yes, it is one of my favourite rooms.’ Lewis turned, almost at the door, and stepped across to a section of shelves, lifting down several books and offering them to Guy, who pulled off his gloves before taking them. Across the knuckles of his outstretched right hand the skin was reddened and sore and Lewis’s eyebrows rose.
‘You have been indulging in fisticuffs?’
‘It was nothing, merely a rogue I ran across.’
‘Doubtless the rogue will he sporting at least an equal injury.’ Lewis’s voice was quite neutral, hut Hester thought she glimpsed a flash of anger in his eyes.
‘One hopes so. Thank you.’ Guy took two of the proffered volumes and began to examine them, apparently impervious to Lewis, who seemed quite willing for him to take the entire pile.
Hester glanced around the room while the men were occupied. Under the chaise in front of the crackling tire was a box giving every appearance of having been thrust there in a hurry. One stray leaf of paper lay forgotten under the low table by the side of the seat. With an eye on Lewis, who was urging Guy to take the whole collection, she wandered over to the chaise and sat down, insinuating one booted foot under the table until it rested on the corner of the paper which she could draw out into the open.
It seemed to be a letter, the ink faded, the writing a flamboyant, characterful, rather old-fashioned hand that was difficult to read. Hester squinted, bent as low as she dared and finally managed to make out the words ‘…Moon House… precious… so fearful… we have to hide it…’
‘Miss Lattimer?’ It was Lewis’s voice and Hester almost dropped her reticule as she tried to suppress her guilty start.
‘I am so sorry, were you speaking to me? I thought I had a loose button on my boot. Are you ready, Lord Buckland? My goodness, what a lot of books, I should imagine that will totally satisfy your antiquarian zeal, my lord.’ She stood up as she prattled, holding Sir Lewis’s gaze with hers while she nudged the letter back under the chaise with her toe. ‘Please give my kindest regards to poor Miss Nugent. I do hope she feels very much better soon. Now we must be off, for I am sure we have trespassed upon your hospitality far too long.’
Once the library door was closed behind them again, Sir Lewis appeared to regain his normal character, speaking of holding a small entertainment before Christmas if his sister felt better able to emerge a little from her mourning. Hester, shaking hands as she took her leave, found herself almost doubting the impression she had had of a secretive, frightened man. And the fact remained: no one had hit Sir Lewis Nugent in the face with enough force to damage their own knuckles in the past few days.
He walked with them back to the stables, assisted Hester up on to her seat, complimented Guy on the greys and waved them goodbye. ‘Very determined to see us off the premises,’ Guy remarked as he waved back cheerfully.
Instead of turning right to go back into the village he turned towards the downs and drove in silence up through the beech woods, their greenish-grey trunks and branches interlaced over the deep drifts of copper-coloured leaves. At length they emerged on to the open, sheep-cropped tops. He turned off the road on to the first reasonably dry track they came to and drove on a little way to where a tangle of hawthorn bushes gave shelter against the wind and the view over the Vale of Aylesbury opened up in front of them.
‘I’m sorry, I had promised that you could drive.’ Guy climbed down, tossed the reins over a bush and helped Hester down from the high seat.