“Then you should know not to listen to those who have nothing better to do than prod and poke others for information.” His thin mouth curled down in a look of disgust and contempt.
Excellent! Any expression of emotion conveyed a weakened stance.
“So are you saying Mrs. Forester is not your mistress?” She raised a curious brow. “Are you saying they are all mistaken?”
“I refuse to discuss my private affairs with you or with anyone.”
“Well, I understand your concern when it comes to gossips. Equally, it would not do for others to discover that ghosts wander the corridors of Highley Grange. Not when you mean to sell.”
It took all the control she possessed not to snigger.
“Sell? Why on earth would you think I want to sell Highley Grange?”
“To pay off your mounting debts, of course.” She cast him her sweetest smile. “If only you would have told me that is the real reason for wanting me to move to Grangefields. As your stepmother, you must know I would have supported your decision.”
He detested her referring to herself as his stepmother. It suggested a level of superiority he refused to accept or acknowledge.
The faint sound of grinding teeth resonated from behind his pursed lips. He glanced back over his shoulder, looked to the left and then the right before giving her his full attention.
“I am not in debt. Do not dare think to compare me to the bunch of mindless degenerates sitting in that room.” He jerked his head in the direction of the door at the end of the corridor. “Whilst my father had many faults, his ability to deal with fiscal matters was not one of them. Only a fool would fritter away his inheritance.”
Isabella sighed. “Then it does not make any sense?”
“What does not make sense?”
“If you do not need to sell Highley Grange, why would you arrange for the servants to hide in the secret room only to come out at night to scare me out of my wits?” Her high-pitched tone revealed a trace of anger.
“Keep your voice down,” he whispered. “These hauntings have obviously played havoc with your sensibilities. Why would the servants do such a thing? The mind is a fragile thing. But you do not have to go back there. I shall send Mr. Blackwood to collect your belongings so that you may move to Grangefields. I am rarely ever there, so you do not need to worry on that score.”
The gentleman’s urgency to see her leave her home conveyed nothing but desperation.
“But you despise gossip.” She kept her voice calm, chose not to mention that some would assume they were conducting a liaison. “What do you think people will say when they discover I have moved back to Grangefields?” Despite his pleas, she had no intention of doing so, of course. “I cannot say it is because my house is haunted. They would think me fit for Bedlam.”
He waved his hand in frustration. “It is simple. You will say that you refuse to live in a house used for immoral purposes and have decided to move to Grangefields until alternative arrangements can be made. After what went on in that house, there is not a person in the land who would argue with your logic.”
Henry appeared to have thought of everything. Hidden beneath his now cool façade she sensed a frisson of excitement. He was a gentleman who liked to get his way, and he obviously felt he was making progress.
“But that still does not explain why you instructed the servants to play vile tricks on me. I cannot even begin to describe some of the horrors I have witnessed.”
He inhaled deeply. “As I have already said—”
“Mrs. Birch confessed. She told me everything.”
Henry straightened and leaned back. “Perhaps she told you what you wanted to hear. Perhaps she thought to ease your fears by finding a more plausible explanation.”
“Lord Morford did not think so.” There, she had played her ace card in this game of wits and strategy. While her face conveyed no emotion, inside she was jumping for joy.
“Lord Morford? What has he got to do with anything?”
“Lord Morford was with me at Highley Grange. Together we witnessed the strange occurrences. Together we discovered the servants hiding in the secret room, questioned their motive for behaving so appallingly.”
Struggling to form a word, Henry stared at her blankly.
The seconds ticked.
During the awkward silence, her mind raced through their conversation. If Henry did not want to sell the house to pay a debt, what reason could he have for wanting her out? Unless hosting lewd parties was in the blood and he thought to carry on the tradition.
It was time to stop playing games.