Grayson stood. “I’m going to dress now, then ride over to Wolffe Hall. This time the Great will not escape me. You will all remain here.”
P.C. jumped to her feet. “But Mr. Straithmore, the funnel might attack you!”
“No,” Grayson said slowly. “You see, it has no reason to attack me. I can’t help it get what it wants.”
“But we can’t either,” Miranda said.
Mrs. Elvan said in her comfortable voice from the doorway, “Yes, Master Grayson, you should go back to Wolf
fe Hall and take care of things once and for all.” She set a new pot of tea on the table, then leaned over to pat Miranda’s shoulder. “Do not worry yourself, Mrs. Wolffe. The master will make everything right. Young Master Pip, you will stay here with me, as will all the rest of you.” She saw Pip open his mouth, and being a very smart woman with six children and eight grandchildren, she said quickly, “I will read you the master’s new manuscript.”
But Grayson knew this offered treat wouldn’t do the trick. He saw his son was marshaling his arguments, so he said quickly, “I really need you to remain here and take care of Mrs. Wolffe, P.C., and Barnaby. You’re now the master of the house, all right?”
He believed he’d been inspired with that reasoning, but Pip said quickly, “But, Papa, what if Bickle tries to sneak in and take me?”
“We’ll all protect you, Pip,” Mary Beth said, rushing over to him to hug him. “We can all sleep together if you would feel safer.”
Pip reconsidered, stood straight. “Papa said I was to be the master of the house. I will protect all of you. If Bickle comes, I’ll kick him in the shins.”
“Thank you, Pip,” Grayson said.
Miranda rose, frowned, and shoved her hair out of her face. Yes, here she was, a lady, and she was wearing only her bedclothes in a gentleman’s drawing room and it was past midnight and the gentleman was looking at her. No, she was absurd, he wasn’t looking at her like that, and it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he would take care of things.
“What’s the matter, Mrs. Wolffe—Miranda?” Grayson asked her.
She wanted to tell him that of course she was returning with him, she didn’t have any clothes, for heaven’s sake, but what came out of her mouth was, “This room doesn’t have any color.”
He stared at her.
Miranda shook herself. “How stupid of me. It’s not important. I really should come back with you.” She swatted her bed-robe. “I need clothes, P.C. needs clothes. Besides, you need me.” She saw he would argue, so she stuck up her chin. “If you don’t take me, sir, neither I nor P.C. will leave Wolffe Hall.” And because you’re so honorable, you will believe yourself responsible if anything happens to us.
He didn’t want her to go back to that house, but then again, she was smart, and she’d used the perfect leverage. He would be there to protect her. He smiled at her. “All right. No, P.C., Barnaby, you will stay here. Mrs. Wolffe and I will be back when we can. P.C., everything will be all right, I promise you. Now take care of Musgrave Jr.” Grayson’s last view of the big calico was on his back, all four paws up, two feet from the sluggishly burning fire.
Ten minutes later, Miranda, dressed in one of Mary Beth’s gowns, rode beside Grayson back to Wolffe Hall. He wanted to hear the story again, ask her more questions, but what came out of his mouth was, “Why do you believe I’m a man who loves color?”
“Your books,” she said simply. “Even though you fill them with spirits and frightful and strange creatures from other mysterious realms, you always place them in vibrant settings, colorful settings. Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re not wrong.”
“I used to be a woman of color,” she said more to herself than to him, “but it’s been a very long time now.”
He said, “You will wallow in color again, not too long from now.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
He grinned at her. “It’s all a matter of how you see the world around you, and soon your world will be a very different place.”
“Does that mean you will fix everything, like P.C. assures me you will?”
“Yes, I will fix everything.”
Miranda realized as she looked at him, listened to his calm, certain voice, the awful fear lessened. Would she really see color again?
They continued toward Wolffe Hall, saying nothing more.
But when they arrived at the manor, all the windows were dark. Suggs, wearing a sleeping cap and a shiny dressing gown, finally opened the door and gaped.
Grayson said, “Suggs, I know our unexpected presence alarms you, but everything is all right. We must speak to his lordship.”