Ash, fighting the surge of joy and relief that his youngest ward was safe and well, held on to the waning residue of his outrage with both hands. Scowling, he pushed into the house, glaring down at her. “What do you think? Looking for you.”
Before she could reply—and he was certain it wasn’t going to be a declaration of thanks, if the mutinous look in her eyes was any indication—a familiar voice sounded from the landing. “Who is it, Nelly? Has Miss Pickering come to call as we asked her to?”
The next moment Eliza, the middle sister, skipped down the stairs and into view. She froze when she saw him. “Damn,” she muttered.
“Damn, indeed,” he growled.
Letting loose a sigh, as if she were being mightily inconvenienced, she descended the stairs with maddening slowness. “I thought we had well and truly hidden our tracks. How did Mr. Beecher discover our direction?”
“It wasn’t Beecher.” Reaching into his pocket, he held up his mother’s slim journal.
The glare Eliza shot Regina’s way was so hot with fury Ash wouldn’t have been surprised if columns of fire shot from her eyes. “How could you?” she hissed, stomping forward to stand nose to nose with her elder sister.
Regina narrowed her eyes dangerously. “How could I? Are you truly serious? You ran off without—” She cut herself off with a click of teeth before, taking a deep breath, she continued in a more neutral tone. “You must have known His Grace would stop at nothing to find you. It was only a matter of time before he discovered the book himself.”
“I would think His Grace would be happy that he was rid of us,” Eliza snapped. “And that you would be as well.”
“Enough,” Ash bit out. “Eliza, Nelly, your ill-advised adventure ends here and now. You shall pack your things and return to London with us at once.”
The chaos that ensued was deafening. The two younger girls set up a screeching racket loud enough to wake the dead, Regina’s shouted reprimands only making the din worse. He drew in a deep breath, the better to gain the volume needed to be heard over them, when a stooped figure pushed into their midst.
“Goodness me,” the woman exclaimed, stopping all arguments in their tracks. “What in the world is going on?” She turned her gaze on Ash, her milky blue eyes magnified by spectacles as thick as the bottom of a bottle. They narrowed at first, as if she were mightily confused by his presence, before widening almost comically in stunned recognition. Except Ash was in no mood to laugh. In fact, he rather thought he was the closest he had been to tears since his mother’s death.
“Master Ash,” the woman said in hushed disbelief. “Is it truly you?”
Ash swallowed hard. “Hello, Mrs. Wheeler.”
And then she did the thing he least expected: she shuffled forward and embraced him.
Ash could only stand there frozen, caught between joy and grief and utter confusion. His wards must have been equally confused, for they stared, mouths opened wide in shock.
Finally the housekeeper released him, stepping back and brushing a tear from her deeply lined cheek.
“Goodness me,” she said, “but I never thought you would return.”
“I never intended to,” Ash muttered more to himself.
Mrs. Wheeler, not hearing him, continued. “Especially after that lovely note you sent on with the girls. It was so nice of you to send them here for an extended holiday.”
No doubt they had forged this letter from him. He shot the younger girls a dark glare. They, however, looked utterly unrepentant.
“But this is lovely,” Mrs. Wheeler prattled on, patting his arm. “It will be nice to have some life back in the house. Though the majority of the rooms are still shut up, and there are just a few servants in residence, I’m certain we can have rooms made up in a thrice. Mayhap,” she continued to mutter thoughtfully as she began to shuffle away, “I’ll send Mr. Wheeler into town to hire on some new staff. I’m certain there are some sweet girls on the Isle who would be happy for the work.”
“Mrs. Wheeler,” Ash called out, desperate to rein her in. He was quickly losing what little control he had here; if he didn’t stop her now there was no telling what scheme his wards might get into their heads—or what further mischief they might get up to. “Mrs. Wheeler, you are mistaken. We aren’t staying; in fact, we are leaving immediately.”
The woman, however, seemed once more not to hear him. She continued muttering to herself, shuffling along at a surprisingly quick pace for all she looked as if she would keel over on the spot. He began striding after her, determined to shut down whatever thoughts she had of them staying on at Caulnedy.
The two younger girls, however, saw what he was about and rushed past him, hurrying to Mrs. Wheeler and linking arms with her, one on each side.
“Let us help you, Mrs. Wheeler,” Eliza said with exaggerated sweetness, her voice carrying, no doubt to prevent the old woman from hearing any more of what Ash might have to say on the matter. “We would love to be of assistance. Wouldn’t we, Nelly.”
“Oh, yes!” Nelly joined in enthusiastically. “Anything we can do to help you, Mrs. Wheeler.”
Ash, flummoxed that he could have so quickly lost all ground in the situation, growled and made to go after them. He would stop this nonsense here and now.
A tentative hand on his coat sleeve, however, halted him in his tracks.
He looked down to see Regina peering up at him. She was biting her lip, looking as uncertain as he had ever seen her.