“He was standing outside in the park, Kent. Staring in through the window at you and Miss Rotherhild. I tell you it was him. I’d recognize him anywhere.”
“Who, Jasper? Who?” Valentine cried in frustration.
“Von Hautt.”
Valentine froze, and then strode across to the window, reaching it just as Marissa turned to also gaze out into the darkness. The soft summer breeze stirred against her cheek, bringing with it the scent of mown grass and the hum of crickets. His shoulder brushed hers and she felt his indrawn breath, and when he turned his head to meet her eyes she could see his own were full of passion and excitement.
“Are you sure you want to join me on tomorrow’s quest, Marissa?” he said softly, for her alone. “I will think no less of you if you wish to bow out.”
“But you told me Baron Von Hautt was not dangerous,” she accused.
“I lied.”
Her eyes narrowed at his unrepentant smile. “So Baron Von Hautt is dangerous?”
“Yes, I believe he is. I believe he will do anything in his power to beat me to the finish line.”
He expected her to turn tail and run. Marissa had no intention of being seen as a coward, and besides, she wasn’t afraid of Von Hautt. His possible presence made tomorrow’s expedition far more exciting than any botanical adventure she’d been on with her parents. “I will not be bowing out, Valentine.”
Some emotion flared in his gaze at the sound of his name on her lips, but before she could decide what it was he was turning away, moving back into the room.
“Which way did he go, Jasper?”
“Into the trees. He probably had a horse tethered there.” Jasper was pouring himself another glass of brandy, and Lady Bethany gestured for him to pour one for her, too.
“Well, at least now we are prepared for him,” Valentine said grimly.
“As prepared as we can be,” Jasper added. “The damnable thing of it is I was just this moment telling Lady B about the theft you suspected Von Hautt of committing, and then there he stood.”
“Theft?” Marissa looked from one to the other.
“Von Hautt has been a thorn in my side for many years,” Valentine admitted, grim-faced. “Do you remember the manuscript I told you about, the one discovered in the antiquarian bookshop? It was sold to a private collector and kept in his house under lock and key, but last year it was inexplicably stolen. It just so happened that Von Hautt had been a houseguest a week before. He’d shown great interest in the manuscript while he was there, and seemed to think he could restore the illegible name with some chemicals he’d brought with him. Understandably, the owner refused to allow him to tamper with the document.”
“So he took it anyway,” Marissa murmured.
“Oh, he denied the theft, and it couldn’t be proved, but only a fool would believe him innocent. There have been times when I thought I had a clue to the rose and set off to follow it, only to find Von Hautt had arrived before me. It would not surprise me to hear he’d paid someone to spy at Abbey Thorne Manor. That would explain how he always manages to be one step ahead of me.”
Lady Bethany finished her brandy and heaved herself out of her chair. “I believe I will retire. Marissa?”
With one final glance at Valentine, Marissa came to her side, tucking her grandmother’s arm into her own. They murmured their goodnights and left the room.
“Good Ga
d, I don’t know if I can stomach too much more excitement,” Lady Bethany murmured, as they climbed the stairs. “One moment we were enjoying a quiet moment in the garden and the next Jasper took off like a hound after a hare. I swear for a man his age he is very fit.”
Marissa eyed her grandmother sideways. “I hope you are not planning to seduce Lord Jasper, Grandmamma. It could make things very awkward.”
“Why? Because you have your sights set on George Kent?” Lady Bethany retorted. Her mouth twitched into a wicked smile. “Or is it Valentine Kent? I’ll grant you he is very manly, but take care, Marissa. He is a man of the world and you are barely more than a schoolroom miss.”
“I thought men of the world liked schoolroom misses,” she said airily.
“In romance novels, perhaps.”
“I am not at all interested in Valentine Kent, Grandmamma, so you needn’t worry. He is George’s brother, that is my sole consideration.”
Lady Bethany paused outside her door and took her granddaughter’s hands in hers. “That reminds me, my dear. Jasper was speaking of Valentine’s wife. It seems she made him miserable—one of those cold, puritanical women—and he has sworn never to marry again.”
Marissa felt inexplicably low, but told herself it was empathy for Valentine’s misery, as she kissed her grandmother goodnight and retired to her bedchamber. The candlelight flickered over the beams on the ceiling and the draperies around the bed, as she settled back against the pillows.