“Unless you return to Dunnam Park today, I’m to meet your brother on Blackmoor Common at dawn.”
“No.” Lydia shook her head. “Cecil is an appalling shot. The man lacks the precision required to flick a pea off his plate. No. You cannot meet him, Greystone. I shall do as they ask.”
“Like hell you will.” The lord caught himself, appeared shocked at his sudden outburst.
“But I must.”
“You cannot surrender to their demands,” he said in a calmer tone. “You must remain here where it is safe.”
“And what if by some twist of fate Cecil shoots you? What then?” An empty void opened in her chest when she imagined living without him. A sob caught in her throat. “I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for you. I can’t … I can’t lose you now.”
Greystone sat on the bed and drew her into an embrace. He kissed her forehead and temple, stroked her hair.
“There isn’t a man in the country who can shoot better than I. Except perhaps Valentine, and I am lucky enough to count him as a friend.”
“But Cecil … he’s not the sort who knows how to fight.” The man lacked the strength to tie his cravat. Walking in a straight line proved too difficult at times.
“I won’t hurt your brother. I shall delope and pray he has a poor aim.” He cupped her cheeks and forced her to look at him. “We must find you something to wear. There have been other new developments while we have been exploring our soul-deep connection.”
Lydia straightened. “Nothing serious I hope.”
Greystone’s expression turned grim. “Mr Guthrie slept in the coach house last night. With the place in such a shambles, he wanted to start work early this morning. Just before dawn, he woke to the sound of voices and the clatter of horses’ hooves on the cobblestone courtyard.”
Lydia put her hand to her chest. “Someone stole into the stables?”
“Four horses are missing, including Drake’s black stallion.”
“Did Mr Guthrie see who has taken them?”
Greystone sighed. “Dariell found Guthrie unconscious in the courtyard. By all accounts, he’s been out for hours but has since come around. Dariell is sitting with him, and Guthrie managed a few mutterings about the events, hence the reason we know he slept here last night. Drake has just left to search for the horses.”
“Do you think this is connected to the fire in the barn?”
A darkness passed over his features. “These antics are those of a schoolboy. Silly. Childish. A pathetic attempt to force me to scamper aboard ship and set sail for India.”
“Then you must suspect Mr Gilligan, for he is the only one who might benefit from your departure.” She imagined the steward rather favoured his neck and had no desire to dangle from the scaffold.
“Not the only person. My brothers would like nothing more than to be rid of me for good.”
Lydia frowned. “Did you say brothers?”
“Indeed.”
“But no one here talks about your family.”
“Probably because my mother was a respected member of the community, well liked, and I suspect even pitied. No doubt they believe her devil of a son takes after his father.”
Greystone told her about his father’s affair with a two-bit actress, and that his brothers were illegitimate. He told her about Greystone Shipping and of his future plans.
“Oh, it makes more sense now. I can think of only one reason why your brothers would come here for a card game. In bleeding Mr Gilligan dry, they in turn cast you in the role of heartless landlord and evil villain.”
“Lord knows what would have happened had I not returned when I did.”
Lydia’s heart went out to him. She wanted to make him smile, make his world a happy place, not one filled with liars and cheats and vindictive people causing problems. She wanted to love him with every breath, every fibre of her being. Never had she admired a man more.
“Your mother sounds like a strong and rather courageous lady,” she said, wishing she could have met the woman who defied the gossips and held her head high.
“To the world she was,” he said with an air of melancholy. “When alone in her room at night I fear it was a different story. But I was just a helpless boy then. Incapable of bringing her peace.”