Chapter 10
Montague’s country estate was something straight out of a gothic horror novel. Of course, it would be, Evie thought as the mountainous pile of gray stones came into view. Numerous slate roof peaks rose up to the heavy rain clouds, which continued to emit sporadic downpours followed by an irritating drizzle that slowed their progress to less than a crawl over the muddy road. The cold, damp air found its way beneath every layer of clothing, chilling her to the bone, and she could not stop thinking of Jeremy.
Knowing in a few short minutes she would see the man responsible for hurting Jeremy brought a jab of pain to her heart, nearly making her head swim. But she would continue with the plan. For him. She would see Montague brought to justice for all his crimes, but most especially, for hurting Jeremy. That thought kept her focused on the job she had to do. It pushed aside all her nervousness and doubts, bringing about a strange sort of euphoric calm. She would do nothing less that succeed in this mission. Succeed or die. Those were her only options.
Evie’s pulse quickened as they rounded the circular drive and moved under the portico at the side of Frankenstein’s castle. Evie nearly smiled, for that was exactly what the monstrosity looked like. Perhaps the Shelley family had visited before? Then Montague moved out of the shadows. The monster. She closed her eyes a moment and inhaled slowly, deeply. A gentle touch made her look up.
Belle had her brows drawn. “Your cheeks are pale, Cherie. Are they not, Jean Claude?”
Evie glanced over to Belle’s faithful companion, still amazed at how Ghost had transformed himself from a powerful earl to a fussy Frenchman so easily. He smiled, his dark eyes twinkling with naughty delight, just as Jean Claude’s would. “I do believe her cheeks could use a bit of color, oui.”
Ghost even sounded exactly like the man. So much so, Evie reached up and pinched her cheeks, having heard the same remarks many times before. Belle had the strange idea that cheeks and lips should be rosy at all times. It drew attention to the mouth, she claimed, instead of the eyes, where all truth could not be properly concealed.
The door opened and Evie tensed. She just couldn’t help it. A footman assisted Belle to the ground, but Montague stepped forward to help Evie. It was as though he didn’t want anyone else touching her. A shiver of disquiet raced down her spine. She swallowed back her unease and slipped her jade green kid skin glove into his waiting palm.
“Welcome to my home,” Montague said, then leaned down to speak softly into her ear. “I have been waiting most impatiently for your arrival.”
Evie resisted the urge to pull away. Instead, she curled her lips up and purred, “Some things, my lord, are well worth the wait.”
He gave her a smoldering glance of lust and promise before straightening and greeting the others, then he led them inside. “Dinner is at nine.” He turned to a short, stout bulldog looking fellow who kept adjusting his collar as though uncomfortable wearing the brown wool suit. “Lars will show you to your rooms and then retrieve you at first bell.”
Giving a slight bow, allowing his gaze to linger on Evie’s bosom for an indecent four and a half seconds, he walked down the hall and into the farthest room on the left.
Evie exchanged glances with Belle. They would investigate that room later, even though Montague just gave a subtle command to not wander about the house during their stay. And Lars would be their watchdog, there to make sure they did as his master just instructed. Having someone follow them about may complicate the assignment, but not for long. Surely, Montague would want to spend time alone with Evie, then she would have her chance to learn everything she needed.
Turning to follow Lars up the main set of stairs, Evie glanced around to memorize the layout of the house. The inside held as much dark and oppressing charm as the outside. Heavy medieval furniture, tapestries, and suits of armor decorated the hall, most likely the original fixtures to the old estate. She wondered where to find the steps to the dungeon, then swallowed back a giggle at the thought. Until she remembered the ancient iron key she had lifted from Montague’s pocket. It would be about the right age.
At the top of the stairs, they turned right and walked down a long hallway. After another right, Lars indicated Jean Claude would have the first room to the left. Belle would have the room directly across from his, and Evie would take the room beside Belle. A low burning lamp sat on a table between her and Belle’s rooms, along with a chair, confirming Evie’s suspicions they would be watched. Montague certainly was paranoid, but she supposed the leader of such an insidious organization would have to be.
Nodding to Belle, Evie entered her room and found huge bouquets of flowers piled on tables, covering the mantle, and stuffed in floor vases along the walls. Roses, iris, lilies, foxglove, and orchids, all in varying colors and sizes were everywhere, and the smell overpowered all else. Glancing around, she found a set of doors leading out to a small step balcony and threw them open, hoping to air out the room a bit. To her left, the huge pale orange moon made a slow ascent from the rolling field up to the smattering of silvery-black clouds still lingering from the earlier storm. At least it had stopped raining, Evie thought, inhaling the fresh, cool air. She wrapped her arms around her middle and tried not to think about Jeremy barely holding on to life. Amelia was there, she reminded herself, and the choking stab of grief eased from her chest. Evie knew no one would give him a better chance to survive than Amelia.
Her maid’s exasperated voice came from behind her, somewhere to the right. Evie stepped back into the room and found a thin strip of light coming from a cracked door that led to the dressing room. “Alice, what is it?”
Shaking her head, Alice pulled a dress from the open trunk. “Someone has been rummaging around in here.” The middle-aged woman paused to frown down at the sapphire silk evening gown. “Just look at these wrinkles. I will be ironing all night.”
Evie stepped forward and glanced inside the trunk. Instead of the neatly folded clothes Alice had packed, someone had obviously dumped the contents then carelessly threw the dresses back inside. Definitely paranoid. She wondered what they were looking for. Slowly, she brought her hand up to the small silk purse tied around her waist, hidden beneath her bottle green dress. Thankfully, she had listened to Belle and placed the vial and iron key there.
“I am sorry, Alice. I will make certain you are compensated with two thick slices of rum cake when we return.”
The maid glanced over, her scowl wavering. “With extra rum?”
Evie smiled. “A whole dram, if you would like.”
Alice’s lips split into a toothy grin in return. “You have yourself a happy maid again.” Then she gathered up three of the gowns. “I had better take these down to the laundry and see about having at least one done before dinner.” She straightened and wagged her thick brows. “But I don’t think Lord Montague would mind at all if you hadn’t a stitch to wear.”
Evie closed her eyes and groaned at Alice’s joke, then she had a thought. Remembering Lars just outside, she kept her voice low. “Do me a favor, Alice. Try to remember everything you can about this old mansion. Describe the rooms you see and who you see in them.”
The maid started to nod, but stopped short. “My lady?”
Evie leaned forward and adjusted a lace hem from dragging the floor. “I know it sounds silly, but I promised the Duchess of Huntington I’d make notations of any interesting place I visit.” At Alice’s blank stare, Evie continued. “The duchess is writing a book, you see. A novel.”
Alice’s brows shot up, then crashed together. “Why would a duchess want to write a novel?”
Now, Evie wished she hadn’t given that reason. Why couldn’t she have thought of something else? With a sigh, she turned her maid toward the door. “We haven’t the time to discuss this. Just please try and remember everything you can, but don’t be conspicuous,” she added softly as an afterthought. “We don’t want everyone thinking the duchess is…is odd for her wish to write.”
Giving an uncertain glance over her shoulder, the maid shrugged. “I will do my best, my lady.”
“That is good,” Evie answered, rocking back on her heels. “Because I was just considering whether or not to share with you that decanter of sherry just there.” She nodded toward a rectangular table with scrolled carvings, and on top of the gleaming wood lay an assortment of thirteen decanters with engraved nameplates on silver chains to identify each liquor within. Two silver trays with snifters, stemware, and assorted liquor glasses had been set out on either side of the decanters. A spray of pink and white roses jutting up from a pallet of fern fronds had been placed behind the beverage assembly.
The maid turned fully around, her eyes as round as the moon outside. “I’ll tell you everything I see, even down to how many cracks are on the ceiling, if you want me to.”
Evie wanted to roll her eyes. Alice could get carried away. “Just remember the rooms you enter or pass by that have open doors and also everyone inside.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward so the maid would know how serious she was. “Do not make it known what you are doing and that I asked you to do it. Understand?”
Alice darted a glance at the liquor assortment then nodded vigorously.
“Good, now hurry with one of those gowns. I do not want to be late for dinner.”
As soon as her maid left, Evie pressed her ear to the thick oak door. If she held her breath, she could just make out Alice explaining to Lars that she needed to take the wrinkles out of the dresses. Lars made some sort of reply Evie could not hear, but an exasperated Alice made it clear her mistress would not be coming down for dinner if the dresses were not taken care of immediately.
Evie swallowed back a giggle as she heard Alice’s footsteps march away. She drew in a slow, deep breath and listened closely. Obviously, Lars had decided not to follow.
Moving away from the door, Evie turned around to check the time, and was startled by the figure standing just inside the open balcony doors.