In the courtyard, she found Mr. Jenkins and Mr. Harrow stepping out to greet her.
An amused, rich purr mocked, “Look at her face. I warned you she would not take kindly to the intrusion.”
Ignoring the pestering growl of the dark haired man, Edmund stepped forward. “Lady Iliffe, it is past dark... were you lost? Do you need care?”
A red brow rose. Mamioro, feeling her annoyance, sidestepped and became difficult. “Mr. Jenkins, I have no need for... care. And no, I did not get lost. I was enjoying the landscape.”
She could see that both Gregory and Edmund recognized the outline of her legs astride her steed, one snickering, the other suddenly uncomfortable with the impropriety of the situation. Dismounting on the opposite side of her uninvited company Arabella maintained her modesty and with the horse between them tried to compose her face. After a deep breath she patted the steed in communication to go to the stables.
Watching Mamioro trot off, she grumbled at the intruder, “You will have to forgive me, Mr. Jenkins. Having only recently taken governance of Crescent Barrows, I am not prepared to entertain. But please, step back inside and take a glass of port—during which time you can enlighten me as to how I have garnered the honor of your unexpected visit.”
Seeing that she was clearly unhappy, Edmund tried to appease her. “Lady Iliffe, my mother beheld you riding off on that wild thing and was frightened you might get injured. She bade me come to make sure you arrived home safely. And how glad I am to see you are indeed the horsewoman Mr. Harrow assured us you were.”
Gathering the longer side of her skirt, Arabella ignored the compliment and led the men inside. “After you take refreshment you must return to your mother and assure her I am well.”
“I must beg your hospitality in this fog.” Edmund smiled, confident she would invite him to stay. “I do not have your talent for finding a path in such circumstances.”
Thankfully the men were following behind her so only Magdala saw the look of annoyance on her face.
“Your ladyship.” Magdala bowed deeply. “I am ashamed to tell you, but there have been no guestrooms opened since our arrival. It was my folly, but perhaps I can begin now... however it would be several hours.”
Warm with gratitude at the woman’s timing and willingness to make herself the heel, Arabella mouthed the words thank you at the well-told lie. Turning with an apologetic and slightly frantic expression, the baroness said, “I apologize, Mr. Jenkins, especially after the exceptional hospitality your family has shown me, but I would not wish to sully your reputation by allowing you to sleep in a house filled with ghosts.” Her attention turned to the blackguard, ready to get even for his aggressiveness with her horse and the mess it had brought her. “Mr. Harrow, can you see to Mr. Jenkins this evening? I would be most appreciative. Rest there and break your fast here come morning.”
With a snide curl in his lip, Mr. Harrow looked down at Edmund as if he had been nothing but a troublesome bore. His acceptance was flat. “Of course.”
Her relief was not for show. “Then let us sit and take our ease while Payne prepares the carriage.”
“No. We will ride,” Mr. Harrow snorted, stomping toward his favored chair. “When the fog is thick, hard winds come next. Chances of overturning in a gale are high.”
Seeing his agitation, she motioned for Edmund to take the other seat. Pouring two draughts of port from a nearby decanter, she took a small cut crystal glass to each of her guests, then poured a third for herself. Edmund’s poorly veiled shock that their hostess would drink liquor intended only for men was not acknowledged.
Mr. Harrow’s earlier amusement had disintegrated into irritability. “What did you find on the moors that drew your attention for so long?”
Pleased the brute was finally showing his true colors, Arabella wickedly smiled. “Mist so thick you could taste it on your breath. Did you see how it sits like a sea just below the Barrows?”
“I saw fog.” The same fog that assured he was saddled with the fastidious goodness of their blond neighbor.
“You would only see fog...”
The port was thrown back, Mr. Harrow glaring at her with eyes full of poison. “Let us retreat, Mr. Jenkins. The hour grows late and the baroness must be tired after her extensive explorations in the dark.”
Without waiting for acknowledgment from the interloper, Mr. Harrow left the room. Standing, Edmund offered a deep bow and kind smile before saying goodbye. The door shut and the men were gone.
* * *
Restless, toying with a lace sleeve of the ridiculous dressing gown the housekeeper had foisted upon her after she’d undressed, Arabella read by the massive hearth in the great hall. Her third glass of port at her lips, it was as Mr. Harrow had warned. A powerful wind kicked up, unnatural howls roaring around the stone warren. So loud was the wail, that when the entrance of her manor opened, the whine of the door was unheard.
It was not until Arabella turned to set her empty glass aside that her eyes narrowed. A tall specter stood in the dark.
Coming to her feet, her entire form seemed to blaze from the firelight behind her. “I thought I was rid of you!”
The looming mist-damp male raged at her, heavy footsteps stalking nearer. “Your impetuous temper has saddled me with a sniveling fool!”
“B
lame no one but yourself. If you had not yanked on my horse, Mamioro would never have reared! It is your own fault you have an unwelcome houseguest.”
“I did you a favor. I have placed a man I abhor under my roof!”