“You’re to give her riding lessons.” Puck pulled the money out of her pocket and held it out to him. “She wants her first lesson tomorrow.”
“No,” he said. “Get somebody else.”
“Nadine is a nice person.” Puck sounded desperate, but then she was. If Sean didn’t give Nadine lessons, her father would be angry, then Nadine wouldn’t be allowed to come and she was good at keeping peace and—“Nadine is funny and interesting and she cares about people.”
“You mean she cares about that group of misfits that hangs around here. Does she know it’s her money they love the most?”
“I’m afraid she does.” Puck was being honest. “But she has to do whatever her father tells her to do.”
“And he wants her to marry the future earl.” It wasn’t a question.
“Sean, please. Nadine will get in trouble if you don’t teach her.”
With a grimace, he took the money. “All right. Tomorrow at 8:00 a.m.”
“I don’t think—” She’d been about to say that Nadine wasn’t up that early but she didn’t. “Fine. Eight in the morning.”
“If she shows up wearing some riding costume from a BBC drama, I’ll send her back.”
“Jeans and T-shirt,” Puck said.
Sean frowned but he nodded. “You’re nervous about something. What is it?”
Puck could feel her heart pounding. “It’s just Mum. Trying to escape her. And Clive’s bad temper and...” She trailed off. Sean’s face showed he wasn’t believing any of it.
He stopped walking, then reached out and pulled something from her hair. It was a ball of dust. “You look like crap.”
She started to make up an explanation, but she knew Sean would know she was lying. She was silent.
“So don’t tell me.”
He started walking but Puck didn’t move. Somehow, she was giving away too much about what she’d seen. “I’ll see you later,” she said. When he didn’t answer, she headed toward the house. She’d gone only a few feet when she began running.
By the time she reached the house, she was out of breath. She went to Bertie’s office. Sean joked that it was actually the drinking room as that’s where the earl got drunk every night.
Puck put the document Clive had given her on the desk—which wasn’t nearly as big or elaborate as Clive’s. On the top was an open checkbook. She saw that Bertie had made out a check for fifty thousand pounds to Longbow Stables. The page of the monthly expenses Clive had given her showed that there wasn’t that much in any account. The check would bounce.
Puck left the office and made a dash up to her room at the top of the house. She changed her shirt and ran a comb through her hair, then ran down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Where have you been?” her mother demanded angrily. “I’ve had this whole meal to do by myself, all while you’ve been outside daydreaming. You flit around like some butterfly, getting no exercise at all.” She gritted her teeth. “It’s time you started to grow up. If we’re going to continue to live here, we all need to be useful. Indispensable, even.”
Mrs. Aiken put half a pound of chopped up butter in a deep skillet. “What are they all doing?”
Puck ate a cherry. “Nicky and Byon are working on a play. Diana is mucking out the stables, and Nadine is going to take riding lessons from Sean. Clive is doing the accounts and Willa is writing letters.”
Mrs. Aiken frowned at her daughter. “You’re telling too much about these people. You’re too young to know that there are secrets in this house. You need to learn how to keep what you hear and see to yourself.” She glared at her daughter. “But you must tell me everything.”
“I will try,” Puck said. Her mind was on that house by the cemetery and what Nicky had said. A place to have some peace.
She watched her mother drop scallops into the puddle of butter. As Byon had said, the butter wasn’t browned, or clarified, or sauced in any way. She tried not to laugh.
Eight
When Puck finished, Kate and Jack said nothing.
Sara broke the silence. “Interesting. They’re different than I thought they would be.”
“Frenemies,” Kate said. “Nobody did what had been planned for them.”