At Last the Rogue Returns (Avenging Lords 1)

Lydia shuffled forward and placed her hand on his cheek. “Then you must strive to live a happy life in her memory.”

A weak smile touched his full lips, and he covered her hand with his own. “Are you in any way related to Dariell, because that is exactly what he would say?”

“No.” She chuckled, and then an idea entered her head. “But I believe we are to become better acquainted. Indeed, my relationship with your friend is about to reach new heights.”

Greystone raised a brow. “Oh, how so?”

“Because we must visit Mr Guthrie and take his statement. Because I have no clothes and Dariell’s tunic and trousers are the only garments sure to fit me.”

There was something about Dariell’s clothes that gave one an air of authority, that made a lady feel as though she could tackle a world crisis. The soft material did not squash and squeeze her body into a ridiculous shape. She felt light and positively free. And she was wrong about the slippers. They were far sturdier than she imagined and cushioned the soles of her feet.

Greystone gripped her hand and led her into the coach house. The smell of polished leather, hay and horses permeated the air. Mr Guthrie lay propped up on a trundle bed next to the fire while Dariell held a cup to the man’s mouth and forced him to drink the tisane or some such aromatic tea.

Dariell cast them a sidelong glance, his lips curling in amusement when he noted Lydia wearing his clothes. “You had no trouble rummaging through my trunk?”

“No, though I had no cause to rummage. I have never seen clothes folded with such expert precision.”

Dariell inclined his head, seemingly pleased by the compliment. “Untidiness leads to a slovenly mind.”

Greystone released her hand and stepped forward. “I hear you took a nasty bump to the head, Mr Guthrie.”

“Aye, that I did. As I’ve been telling Mr Dariell here, the blighter struck me from behind but not afore I saw his accomplice.” Mr Guthrie winced as he pressed the side of his head. “Oh, it feels as though someone’s stamping on my noggin with their boot.”

“The tea will help,” Dariell said.

“Did you say you saw one of the men responsible?” Greystone asked eagerly.

“Only from behind. He walked with his head cocked to the side, ran like the ground was too hot for his feet.”

“You describe Mr Gilligan,” Lydia said, excited to be of some help. She would know the man?

??s quirky traits anywhere.

“Aye, it could be Gilligan.”

Greystone released an exasperated sigh. “Why would Gilligan steal the horses knowing he’ll hang for the crime? And why is he in Cuckfield? If the man had any sense, he’d have fled long before now.”

“I’m not sure he was after stealing the horses, milord.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It looked like they were shooing the horses away. I came out to find the man holding his lantern aloft as if ready to hurl the thing. Happen they were to set fire to the whole stable block.”

A fire in the barn, and now one in the stables.

Clearly Mr Gilligan was out to cause trouble. But why attack the stables and not the manor? Had he thrown the lantern through the front window, the whole house would be ablaze, and they would have all most likely perished. Perhaps murder was a step too far.

Lydia turned to Greystone. “I would wager Mr Gilligan is making mischief in the hope you will leave.”

“Leave? It would take a damn sight more than that to beat me.”

“You’re right. It makes no sense.” Lydia shook her head. “Even if you did decide to leave, the man has lost his position as steward and consequently all rights to be on your land.”

Greystone snorted. “Perhaps he hoped to convince the villagers that the devil has returned to Cuckfield, that I’m so unstable I would burn down my own property. But even if he marks me as a rogue to help mitigate his crimes, as a peer, I doubt a magistrate would question my honour or my motives.”

Dariell cleared his throat. “You are both wrong I fear. Sometimes the victim of a crime is not the intended target. Find your steward, and you will find the answer.”

Greystone sighed. “If it were that easy I wouldn’t be standing here.”