Mistress of Merrivale Read online

  Jocelyn wanted to sag onto the nearest chair. Thank goodness! The last thing she wanted was to explain to Leo how she’d lost his daughter.

  “Poppet, what’s wrong? You’re not usually shy.” Hannah took a step back and stooped to kiss her niece’s face. “Why have you been crying?” She shot a reproving look at Jocelyn, and Jocelyn felt the full weight of the woman’s censure. “Where is your nurse?”

  To Jocelyn’s relief, a maid arrived with refreshments, the rattle of the tray providing a welcome interruption. Providing explanations of the last hour to her new neighbors, even if they bore close ties to Cassie, wasn’t something she wanted to do either.

  “Please take a seat,” Jocelyn said, gesturing at the Egyptian-style settee and the ornate matching chairs. She accepted Peregrine’s escort to a spot near the tea tray and immediately wished she hadn’t when his touch lingered overlong. Experience had taught her how to deal with unwelcome advances, but she held herself in check, reminding herself these were her neighbors. She arranged her skirts and waited expectantly for Hannah to follow suit.

  “Where is the fair Arabella?” Peregrine asked in a lazy drawl.

  “I volunteered to look after Cassie for a few hours,” Jocelyn said in a tight voice.

  Hannah led Cassie over to a chair—one with elaborately carved feet—and lifted her up. “Would you like some fresh milk and one of Cook’s raspberry tarts?”

  Irritation tightened Jocelyn’s chest, and she aimed an incredulous glower at Hannah. The woman had no business usurping her rightful place as hostess. The hint of malice in the other woman’s eyes stiffened Jocelyn’s spine. She curled her right hand around the arm of her chair, counseling herself to patience. Her marriage to Leo was a shock and she needed to make allowances.

  Hannah placed a tart on a plate for Cassie, and Peregrine caught Jocelyn’s frown.

  “How do you like Dartmoor?” he asked, directing the conversation with a flirtatious grin, probably in the hope of avoiding an unpleasant disagreement between the two women. “It must be a change from London.”

  How did he know she came from London? She hadn’t told anyone simply because she didn’t want to cause Leo embarrassment or open herself to nosy questions. “I haven’t been here long, but so far I love the countryside.” An evasive answer, but it seemed to satisfy him.

  “Dartmoor is a dangerous place.” Peregrine leaned over and placed a too familiar hand on her forearm. His blue eyes twinkled and, to her discomfort, Jocelyn detected a hint of lust.

  “In what way?” Jocelyn shifted and his hand dropped away. Personally she thought both Hannah and Peregrine needed a lesson in manners.

  “Did you hear about the murder of our maid? Her body was found in the maze here at Merrivale.” His blond brows rose, his eyes strangely intent. His lazy manner faded as he leaned closer to speak in an undertone. “Then of course, there was my sister’s murder. If I were you, I’d be watching my back.”

  A chill rippled through Jocelyn, stirring the hairs at the back of her neck. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Peregrine’s brows drew together. “I’d listen to the rumors because there is more than a little truth in them.”

  “Stop being so secretive.” Jocelyn drew in a rapid breath, attempting to claw back the anxiety his words set loose. There was something about his tone, the way his teasing nature had receded to expose a hint of his inner self. “Tell me what you mean.”

  Peregrine shrugged and insouciance settled on him again like a cozy woolen cloak. “I’m warning you to take care. All is not as it seems at Merrivale.”

  Confused about his meaning, she stood abruptly. “Can I get you a dish of tea or would you like something stronger?”

  “Do you have claret?”

  “Of course.” Having learned a thing or two while dealing with her sisters, she calmly reclaimed the reins from Hannah, bustling about to pour claret and prepare a plate of cakes for Peregrine. “Hannah, would you care for a slice of butter cake or perhaps a raspberry tart?”

  “Thank you.” Hannah smiled graciously, although her fingers tightened around the handle of the milk jug before replacing it on the table.

  An awkward silence fell. Jocelyn wanted to check on her mother and make certain Cassie was all right after her fright. But, aware of her responsibilities, she sat beside Peregrine again and introduced a neutral topic. “Tell me about the village. Is there a good dressmaker?”

  “We came to invite you to a party.” Hannah’s gaze swept Jocelyn’s serviceable brown and her top lip curled. “I doubt you’ll have time to order a new gown beforehand. The village dressmaker might aspire to London designs, but the results are hopelessly provincial.”

  “Hannah!” Even Peregrine blinked at her rudeness.

  “A party sounds lovely,” Jocelyn said, ignoring both comments. “I look forward to meeting Leo’s friends and neighbors. Will there be dancing?”

  Hannah shrugged. “Of course. Peregrine has the invitation.” She turned her back on Jocelyn and Peregrine to chat with Cassie. Another show of ill manners.

  A distant shriek severed the taut calm.

  Cassie dropped her milk and started wailing. Jocelyn jumped to her feet, but Hannah took over, soothing her niece while ordering Peregrine to summon a maid. In the end, Jocelyn rang for a servant, moving away to let Hannah deal with Cassie. There was no need to complicate the situation by arguing with the woman, but Jocelyn’s lips pursed in irritation. If Hannah attempted to behave like this during her next visit, she’d learn Jocelyn wasn’t afraid of claiming her rightful place.

  “Aren’t you going to investigate the commotion?” Peregrine asked, leaning closer than necessary. His focus was on her breasts again, and a scandalous smirk lit his eyes. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the direction of his thoughts.

  “No.” Jocelyn straightened, irked by the man’s flirtation. There was nothing she could do that Tilly wouldn’t already be doing. “My mother’s nurse will take care of her.”

  “Your mother is making that racket? She sounds as if she belongs in Bedlam,” Hannah snapped. “No wonder Cassie is upset with a lunatic living in the manor.”

  “Hannah,” Peregrine rebuked. “That was unpardonably rude.”

  “I’m speaking nothing less than the truth. I don’t know why Leo would marry her.”

  Peregrine grimaced, but his attention wandered to Jocelyn’s bodice. “I must apologize for my sister. I’m sorry, Jocelyn. Can I call you Jocelyn since Leo’s family and ours are such old friends and none of us stand on formalities?”

  Why couldn’t he address her face instead of her breasts? “Yes, of course.” She wanted to refuse, yet it seemed silly to insist when they’d see each other on a regular basis.

  “We’d better leave you to calm your mother.” Peregrine stood and bent over her hand. A perfectly polite gesture yet he made it into a lurid one. His fingers traced the tender skin of her inner wrist, lingering over the scatter of freckles in an overly familiar way. A reckless grin lit his face when she jerked from his touch. “Remember what I said. Merrivale is a dangerous place.” Raising his voice, he said, “Come, Hannah. We have callers arriving this afternoon. I told you we couldn’t visit for long.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” Cassie cried, clutching her aunt’s cream skirts with her jam-covered fingers.

  “Look what you’ve done,” Hannah said in a sharp voice. She yanked from Cassie’s grasp and backed away with a scowl.

  Cassie started wailing, her sobs breaking Jocelyn’s heart. Poor mite. She’d had a trying morning. Jocelyn scooped up the child and hugged her tightly, but Cassie’s crying didn’t diminish.

  “We will visit again later in the week,” Hannah promised, shooting a triumphant look at Jocelyn.

  “I want to go home with you,” Cassie cried.

  “That will be enough, Cassie.” Leo stood in the doorway. He grimaced as a volley of shrieks echoed from her mother’s wing. “Hannah. Peregrine. I didn’t think to see you so soon.” He i
gnored Jocelyn to concentrate on their visitors.

  “We came to invite you to a party,” Peregrine said, smiling warmly at Jocelyn.

  “Cassie,” Leo remonstrated.

  Cassie’s noisy sobs abated somewhat at her father’s stern tone, and Leo glowered at Hannah and Peregrine before leveling his dark expression on her. Jocelyn stiffened, annoyance striking her like an abrupt bump against the shins. She drew a sharp breath and attempted to tamp down her exasperation. Surely he didn’t suspect she returned Peregrine’s obvious interest? That she wanted his flirtatious attentions? Compared to Leo, Peregrine was a rambunctious puppy, acceptable in small doses but not fit for polite company.

  Cassie started to struggle, and Jocelyn set her down. The child immediately ran to Hannah and hid her face in her aunt’s skirts. This time there were no rebukes, merely sweet smiles that made Jocelyn long to lash out with sharp words of reprimand.

  Hannah sparkling with the good cheer she hadn’t demonstrated before Leo’s arrival. “Do say you’ll come to the party.” She placed one gloved hand on Leo’s arm, all charm as she batted her lashes at him. “It won’t be the same without you.”

  “Please excuse me,” Jocelyn said in a stiff voice. “I must attend my mother.” With a nod at Peregrine and a strained smile at Hannah, she hurried to the doorway. When she passed Leo, her lips warmed into a genuine beam. “I won’t be long.”

  Leo glanced in the direction of the hoarse screams. “We’ll talk once our visitors leave.”

  “Of course.” Jocelyn tried not to read too much into his glower. She had nothing to worry about, because she hadn’t encouraged Peregrine. Still, anxiety stalked her all the way to her mother’s rooms. She wanted Leo to trust her. Her thoughts slid to Peregrine and uneasiness joined her concern. His warning words implied something was amiss at Merrivale. Was he implying Leo was the source of the danger?

  The screams grew progressively louder until they drowned out Jocelyn’s doubts.

  Grimacing, she tapped on the door before entering. “Mother, is this shrieking necessary? You’re upsetting Cassie and making her cry.”

  The caterwauling ceased abruptly.

  “Have you collected herbs for me? I need them to make my rinse for your husband.”

  Jocelyn fought an urge to bang her head against the nearest wall. In a quicksilver change of direction her mother appeared to have forgotten the spy she’d spotted lurking in the garden. “No, Mother. I had unexpected visitors. Leo is with them now, but as soon as they leave, I’ll collect the herbs and flowers you require.” She wanted to speak with the gardener anyway. Hopefully, he’d reported his findings to Woodley already.

  Leaving Tilly to organize her mother, she returned to the parlor. To her relief, only Leo and Cassie remained. Arabella arrived at the same time and, after a glare in Jocelyn’s direction, took charge of Cassie and marched the child from the room.

  “I’m sorry my mother upset Cassie.”

  “I suspect Cassie is still unwell,” Leo said, his words clipped and precise.

  Jocelyn winced, wary of his mood. She didn’t know him well enough to predict his temper. “Did you hear about the party?”

  “Yes, Hannah informed me of the invitation.”

  Jocelyn bit her lip. Stupid. She’d heard Hannah repeat the invitation herself. “I’m looking forward to meeting our other neighbors.”

  Leo prowled to the nearest window. He stared out over the garden, his back stiff. Yesterday he’d reminded her of a graceful beast. Today his prowling seemed faintly menacing, especially in light of Peregrine’s strange warnings. Leo whirled to face her, the sudden move making her jump. “Are you bored with living in the country? Jaded with my company already?”

  Jocelyn gaped at him. “Of course not.”

  “You appeared to enjoy Peregrine’s company.” Leo’s harsh tone surprised her too. Had last night meant nothing to him?

  “They weren’t here for long before you arrived. Mother had one of her episodes out in the garden.”

  “I heard.” Leo’s tone was short.

  Someone tapped on the door, halting the tart reply trembling at her lips.

  “Enter,” Leo said without taking his gaze off her.

  Woodley stopped just inside the door. “Mrs. Sherbourne, the gardener is here to see you. He said you’d told him to talk to me, but I felt you should hear what he has to say in person.”

  Leo’s eyes narrowed, but Jocelyn’s gaze didn’t waver. There was something in Leo’s past—something relating to his first marriage—that made him distrustful. Part of her understood his testy attitude because he didn’t know her well either. Not yet. It’d take time for him to believe she’d never betray him. Taming Leo would require patience and resilience, which thankfully she possessed in abundance after dealing with her sisters and mother and the hellish mess her father had landed her in on his death.

  “Of course. Tell him I’ll be out in a few minutes. I promised to collect some herbs and flowers for my mother anyway.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Sherbourne.” Woodley backed from the parlor and closed the door.

  Leo stared at her until she wanted to squirm.

  “Ah, I’d better go and speak with the gardener.” The words burst from her, a reaction to his frosty demeanor.

  “Why do you need to speak to the gardener?” Once again, suspicion colored his expression.

  She was innocent of wrongdoing, and his attitude stirred even more uneasiness. Jocelyn reminded herself she’d made the decision to marry him, and she had to make the best of her new situation. “Why don’t you come with me?”

  Her suggestion obviously startled him. Good. Perhaps keeping him off balance would mellow his mood. She bustled to the doorway and spoke over her shoulder. “I’ll explain on the way. I need to collect a basket and scissors to pick more flowers and herbs for my mother. The ones we picked were destroyed—trampled underfoot during the earlier tempest.”

  Leo nodded, strangely reticent now.

  Satisfied with her strategy, Jocelyn led the way outside, pausing to collect her supplies from the still room. “I asked the under-gardener to check for signs of a stranger loitering in the garden. Mother was insistent she saw someone spying on us while we were picking flowers.”

  “And you think your mother was imagining things?”

  “Yes. No.” Jocelyn frowned. “I’m not sure. I sensed someone watching us while we were in the garden, but thought it was my imagination. I also saw a flash of white.”

  “Most likely it was a bird or a sheep.”

  “That’s what I decided, but that was also before Mother started screaming about spies.” Another thought occurred—one she didn’t voice. The riding habit Hannah had worn today was pale in color. She and Peregrine had arrived at roughly the same time. No, Hannah mightn’t like her, but her affection for her niece appeared genuine. She wouldn’t want to upset Cassie.

  The jam episode…

  No, Jocelyn was positive of Hannah’s innocence in this case. They’d arrived on horseback and left their horses at the stables, which were in the opposite direction. “Have you experienced problems with intruders before?”

  “Strangers tend to stand out in the village.” Leo’s mouth twisted, but she wouldn’t call it a smile. “We live in a beautiful area and do have visitors, but I’d have heard of new arrivals, where they’d come from, along with their intentions and length of stay. Gossip spreads rapidly around here.”

  “I suppose that must be how Peregrine knew I was from London. There he is,” Jocelyn said, changing her direction abruptly. “Good afternoon, did you discover anything out of the ordinary?”

  The young gardener bobbed his head in a show of respect. “I didn’t see anyone or come across footprints.” His words were slow and thick with a Devonshire accent. “The ground’s dry after the fine weather.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you for looking for me.” Jocelyn had expected this report. Her mother wasn’t the most reliable witness. She started to turn away when t
he gardener spoke again.

  “There was something strange,” he said. “Someone had trampled the undergrowth at the edge of the oak forest. No footprints, see, but broken branches and crushed grasses near the trees.”

  Jocelyn considered the information. “Perhaps it was an animal. Maybe sheep?”

  “How old were the signs?” Leo took over the questioning, his gaze probing.

  “Recent,” the gardener said without hesitation. “Sap still oozed from the broken branches.”

  “Could one of the other gardeners have caused the damage?” Leo asked.

  “None of us have worked in the area today,” the gardener said.

  Jocelyn nodded. “Thank you.”

  The gardener went back to his work, leaving her alone with Leo. He was frowning again, but this time his displeasure wasn’t aimed at her.

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” Leo said. “I’ll speak to the rest of the outdoor staff and ask them to watch for strangers.”

  “We’re assuming it’s a stranger, but it could be anyone,” Jocelyn pointed out. “It could be a local or one of the staff.”

  “At least you’re not trying to tell me your mother saw a ghost.”

  “You don’t believe in ghosts?”

  An indelicate sound escaped Leo. “Of course not. I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation.” He studied his wife’s impish expression, and his bad mood disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Seeing Peregrine touching her in the overly familiar manner had reminded him of Ursula’s flirtations. At the start of his first marriage, he’d been so smitten he hadn’t noticed Ursula’s shortcomings. Besides, she’d hidden her lovers carefully until he’d discovered her in bed with an actor from a touring troop. After that episode, she hadn’t bothered to hide her indiscretions, her behavior outrageous and designed to rouse his jealousy.

  “I’d hoped Mother would settle easily. She was so happy out in the garden picking flowers.” Jocelyn grimaced. “I’m sorry about the drama. I’d better pick these flowers and herbs before Mother makes her displeasure known again.”