The work done to the house, now finally close to completion, pleased him until he read the stern letter from his uncle’s trustees, which mentioned a visit at the end of the month, three weeks away.
Hart rubbed at the creases forming on his forehead. Unless he and Maddie married, he had no time to satisfy their demands. There was still work to be done on the estate. The tenant farmers Hart visited barely managed, and their crops suffered. What if he failed to meet the solicitor’s conditions? Would they be harsh enough to turn him down flat? It seemed unbelievable, and yet he could not afford to take it lightly.
The clatter of horse hooves sounded on the driveway. Through the library window, Hart saw a cream-colored carriage pull up outside the house. One he recognized. “Speak of the devil,” he murmured.
Wakeham alighted and strode up the steps to ring the bell.
Moments later, a footman appeared in the library.
“Will you see Mr. Wakeham, milord?”
Hart rose from the desk. “Show him in.”
“Mr. Wakeham.” Hart waved him to a chair. “Do you still have concerns about the fences? I assume that’s why you’re here?”
“No. The repairs are acceptable.” Wakeham took a chair and sat upright as if a poker had been stuck down his back. “I wondered if you might have seen my niece’s gray mare while riding over your acres, my lord.”
“I cannot say I have.” Hart forced a smile as he sat on the wing chair opposite him. “But then I’ve only just arrived from London.”
“The mare did not wander into your stables?”
“No. My groom would have informed me of it. I trust Lady Madeline has returned safely?”
“Not as of yet. But I know where she is.” Wakeham’s small gray eyes hardened. “As she is safe, I shan’t insist on her return.”
“She stays with a relative?” Hart was immediately on the alert, but the man must surely lie.
“My niece is like a wild filly. I am giving her a little rein. She’ll return when she tires,” Wakeham said with a mendacious smile.
Had his ruffians traced Maddie to the cottage? It was possible. “I am sure you are most concerned about her,” Hart countered. “She must be unhappy here.”
Wakeham’s mouth formed a sour expression. “Young women are hard to please.”
“They yearn for the bright lights of London. Understandable, when they look forward to attending the Season after they emerge from the schoolroom.”
“Yes…I daresay.” Wakeham stood abruptly. “Funnily enough, I have also lost a groom.”
“You suffer extraordinary bad luck,” Hart said as he led him to the door. “I hope Lady Madeline is found and your groom returns.”
“He won’t come back if he values his life. He most likely absconded with the horse, in which case I’ll have him tracked down and dealt with.” A vicious expression changed Wakeham’s face. Hart inhaled a breath. Wakeham showed his true colors at last. It worried Hart a good deal. He hoped Henry would take his advice and hide himself away.
*
Two days afterHart left them, Maddie, unsettled but refusing to admit she missed his company, rode Pearl to the farm. She hoped Mrs. Lester could spare a recipe book. There was a limit to what culinary delights she could create with the old cottage oven, but she was keen to try her hand.
Mr. Lester answered the door. “That is a fine animal you are riding, Miss Burrell,” he said, studying Pearl where the horse stood tethered to the fence.
“I am fortunate to have her. The mare was a gift. I am very fond of Pearl.”
“Then you wouldn’t consider selling her.”
“Never.” Maddie smiled. “I come hoping Mrs. Lester will share some of her recipes.”
Mrs. Lester appeared. “Leave us women to discuss domestic matters,” she said, shooing him out of the parlor. “Lester loves his horses.” She shook her head. “As if we could afford to buy such an animal. Please sit down, Miss Burrell, while I fetch coffee, then we can have a pleasant chat.”
A short time later, a maid entered with a tray. Mrs. Fletcher placed a cup of coffee and cake before Maddie on the occasional table. “You wish to borrow one of my recipe books?” She went to a bookshelf and chose a volume.
“I confess to being a novice,” Maddie said. “We always had a cook at home.”