Wizard's Daughter (Sherbrooke Brides 10)

"Yes. Well, no. I don't think I could do that with you peer­ing over my shoulder, your eyes on the same things mine are on. The couples don't have any clothes on, Nicholas. There is not a single petticoat to froth up and hide things."

"And the gentlemen in the pictures? Are they unclothed as well?"

"I looked at as many as I could while Aunt Sophie was trying to gently tug it out of my arms. I think I managed to get a brief glimpse of a good half dozen before—to be on the safe side—I folded it beneath my chemises in my valise hoping they wouldn't filch it. The gentlemen"—she cleared her throat—"well, they looked very strange, not at all like the little boys at Brandon House."

"Strange how?"

"The front of them, low on the front of them—they looked deformed, big and puffed out and, well, one could not help but think there was a tree trunk sticking out of their stomachs."

Nicholas laughed. "Sounds to me like the artist was a man with a grand view of himself, a man who wanted to impress, and that led to a good deal of exaggeration to carry home the point."

She sat forward, her fingers locked together. "What point? I didn't see a point. Now, I don't wish to speak of that book anymore. I don't wish to dive beneath this table to hide my mortified self. I don't like to think what could be under this bloody table when it is dark, and no feet are there in a row to keep strange creatures away."

He merely smiled at her. "Finish your fig pudding. Let's go to the library and request that Grandfather not pay us any bridal visits. Then, we will enjoy ourselves, Rosalind. I promise you everything will be fine. I am your husband and you will trust me."

She chewed on that a moment, then said to his surprise, "Nicholas, do you know why your grandfather's chair fell over when I sang my song?"

Oh, he'd thought about that all right. "We will discuss it, tomorrow at noon, at the earliest."

Block came into the dining room, carrying another branch of lit candles. The light haloed his face, making him look like a ruddy-cheeked devil. "I fancied you might wish to have your port now, my lord."

Was that irony in Block's voice? Nicholas folded his nap­kin and laid it beside his plate. "No, thank you, Block. We are going upstairs now. Is the house quiet and secure?"

"Yes, my lord. May I say I thought it particularly sensitive of Mr. Pritchard not to dine with you this evening, what with this being your very first evening together at Wyverly Chase, er, and your very first evening together as a married couple?"

"No, Block, you may not say it."

Rosalind choked back a laugh. "Please thank Cook for the delicious meal, Block. My lord?"

Nicholas pulled back her chair and took her arm. "Good night, Block. Ah, tell Mr. Pritchard to hire some additional staff. I can't imagine Cook was pleased to clean all the pots and pans by herself. I will personally speak to each of them, allay their ghostly concerns."

"Very well, my lord, but I don't hold much hope of gaining an additional servant. There's talk in the village, you see, and people are remembering your grandfather and the fact that there was no body."

"I assure you, Block, when Grandfather died, he left his earthly remains behind. After all, what use would he have for his corporeal self in the hereafter?"

"As to that, my lord, you were only a lad, and didn't know anything at all. I remember well what was said by He Who Should Know."

"Who would that be?"

"The physician. You remember Dr. Blankenship, my lord, a fussy little man with wheat-colored hair and eyes so pale he could stare at you and you wouldn't know it? He evi­dently whispered to his sister that when he made his final visit, the old earl wasn't snug in his coffin, as he should have been. You, my lord, were, of course, already gone."

"I remember Blankenship. What happened to him?"

"I believe he went to France, my lord."

"Well, now, there you have it," Rosalind said. "Very fit­ting. Anyone who would claim such a thing deserves to wind up in Fra

nce."

Block nodded. "I must admit that Dr. Blankenship was a strange little man. However, as you may imagine, having the old earl's body missing was a titillating tale. However, we will try, nonetheless, despite knowing we will fail, to bring more servants here."

"What happened to Dr. Blankenship's sister, the one he whispered this to?"

"Why, she still lives in her brother's house in the village, still dines out on her brother's whisper. It appears that our fellow man never tires of hearing about otherworldly phe­nomena. Unfortunately she is now also drooling in her soup. Ancient she is."

Block trailed them into the library, watched by the door as they spoke briefly to the empty chair in front of the fireplace.

When they came out, Block cleared his throat and stood his ground. "My lord, it is Lee Po."