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  Gabriel entered the room, walked across it, and opened the two windows to let in some fresh air. Brooke followed him, wanting to see the view. She’d been right. The tall hedges she’d seen from a distance surrounded a large parklike area behind the house with bright green lawns and pathways bordered by beds of roses and other pretty flowers. There were a few shade trees with benches beneath their leafy, green canopies and a tiny pond. Lampposts were placed here and there to light the way at night or just look pretty from the house. Right in the center was indeed a maze, not huge, but with hedges so tall she couldn’t see the pathways inside it from her window. Too bad. She would have liked to memorize them before venturing into it, and she would be doing that—if they were staying.

  Before Gabriel left, he said in a whisper, “I will bear the brunt of his wrath for not putting you where he ordered, but I’d rather not wake him just yet, so do try to be as quiet as you can so he doesn’t hear you in here.”

  Appalled that he hadn’t been joking about the tower, Brooke replied, “Please, I’d prefer another room not so close to his, even one in that tower.”

  He smiled, apparently not as worried about the lord’s wrath as he’d sounded. “Nonsense. Most of the rooms up here aren’t cleaned regularly unless guests are staying in them. This is the only unoccupied room that is clean and doesn’t have a permanent ‘don’t use’ sign on the door.”

  She hadn’t noticed any signs. “Why is Lord Wolfe sleeping in the middle of the day?”

  “I’d be amazed if he is.” Gabriel was already heading briskly toward the door, adding without pause, “I will have your trunks sent up.”

  Brooke might have thanked him if the door hadn’t closed so quickly and she weren’t wondering now if the wolf was as ill-tempered as her father, if he needed to be tiptoed around. And then she was staring at another door, one that could very well connect to Lord Wolfe’s room, and all sorts of alarming thoughts entered her head, the worst of which was that the wolf would have easy access to pounce on her while she slept!

  Chapter Nine

  GABRIEL ARRIVED JUST AS Dr. Bates was leaving. Bates paused to give him the same instructions he’d given everyone else in the room. Dominic caught Gabe’s expression and might have laughed if it wouldn’t hurt, but it would. They’d all been right. He had ripped open his stitches and had been forced to cut short his ride. But the doctor’s embarrassing lecture had done what the ride was supposed to do—temporarily distract him from his anger.

  Carl, the servant assigned to stay with him to fetch whatever he needed today, sat in a chair by the door. Carl had winced in sympathy when the doctor had given his instructions. Dominic’s valet, Andrew, was also in the suite, but he was busy in the dressing room.

  Gabriel closed the door after the doctor left and approached the bed. “Leeches? Really?”

  “Whatever you wrote in the message that summoned Bates here again apparently led him to bring bloodsuckers,” Dominic replied. “He warned he won’t be available for the next few days because he’s committed to visit patients up north, but he’s confident the leeches will soon bring down this fever. That is his opinion, not mine.”

  With his wounded leg left bare on top of the bedsheet, the leeches by the restitched wound were quite visible. Gabriel refused to look at them and stared instead at Dominic’s dog sleeping on the foot of the bed.

  After a moment Gabriel shook his head and picked up a tan hair off the sheet. “You shouldn’t allow that mutt in here, at least not while you are being leeched. He’s shedding. You don’t want dog hair in the wound, d’you?”

  “Wolf is fine. He’s worried about me. He refused to leave when Carl tried to get him out. You can take a horse brush to him later if you’re worried about him shedding.” Then, turning to the matter uppermost on his mind, Dominic asked, “Was it the Whitworth’s daughter in that coach?”

  “Indeed.”

  “How did she like the tower?”

  Gabriel glanced back to nod at Carl to leave the room before he met Dominic’s eyes. “We didn’t find out.”

  “She’s already left?”

  “No, actually, Lady Whitworth is probably quite happy with her room.”

  Dominic immediately frowned. “Where did you put her, Gabriel?”

  The reply was mumbled so low Dominic didn’t hear it. He was too drained to repeat himself, so he waited, staring pointedly at his friend.

  Gabriel finally sighed and said in a louder tone, “Next door.”

  “Gabe,” Dominic said warningly.

  “Well, Ella’s room is locked and will always be locked. And your old room can’t be used because you left most of your childhood mementos in it.”

  “There are numerous bedrooms on this floor! How dare you presume to put my enemy’s sister—”

  “Wait! Don’t bite my head off until you’re stronger, and—I really didn’t have a choice. None of the guest rooms are kept readied because anyone who wants to visit you and stay for a time gives you prior warning so that rooms can be prepared for them. Those were your mother’s instructions, which you never bothered to change. So only these family rooms at the back of the house are kept spotless at all times. As for that particular room next to yours, your grandmother had that door installed and moved into that room when she could no longer sleep because of your grandfather’s snoring. If she hadn’t done that, it wouldn’t even be part of your suite of rooms.”

  “You know very well I consider that room my mother’s and always will. She moved into it after father died and lived in it until . . .”

  “Until she left after Eloise’s funeral. And swore she would never return. You’ve never found a use for it other than to keep it available for her just in case she changes her mind and comes back.”

  “She won’t,” Dominic said tonelessly. “She was raised in London and prefers London. Here she grieves too much, there she is distracted from it.”

  “But if Lady Anna did return, she wouldn’t want that particular room again anyway and would insist on another. She would want you to have the entire lord’s suite. Besides, this arrangement is nothing more’n temporary, but if you must know, I thought it rather appropriate, putting Lady Whitworth there, since now she won’t have to be moved after the marriage.”

  Dominic could not care less how logical all of that sounded—except the marriage part. There wasn’t going to be a wedding if he could help it. But there was no point in being angry at Gabriel when it wouldn’t last. It never did, and at the moment he simply didn’t have the strength to maintain it for even a little while.

  But he still growled, “Lock that bloody door.”

  “Of course!”

  Gabriel rushed to the now-offensive door and turned the latch, even tested the knob to make sure it wouldn’t open. He came back saying jauntily, “Besides, it’s not as if you’ll be roaming the halls for a while, where you might run into her more often than not. Are the leeches working?” he added, trying to change the subject.

  It didn’t work. Dominic said succinctly, “You disobeyed my wishes. Aside from your convoluted logic, why did you really do that?”

  Gabriel winced, but stood his ground. “You can move her to the tower when you’re well. I simply didn’t have the heart to do it.”

  Dominic sighed and closed his eyes.

  Gabriel guessed, “I’ve worn you out. I’ll leave—”

  “No, you won’t. Which member of her family came with her?”

  Gabriel sat down in the chair that had been moved next to the bed. “None, which seemed rather odd. However, she was well escorted by servants, though only her maid is staying with her. Charming woman, that one. Full of fire and dire threats. You’d think she was the lady, but obviously, she’s very protective of hers.”

  “And the lady?”

  “She didn’t treat me like a gnat under her boot, like you-know-who did. That last mistress of yours, well, I won’t repeat myself. But some ladies are just—just—”

  “Yes, I know your sent
iments in regard to snobby bitches. You still haven’t answered my question.”

  “The lady seemed a bit cowed if you ask me, like she’s not used to strangers—or she wasn’t expecting to be invited in. Or she’s just very demure. Yes, that’s probably all it was, considering her young age.”

  “She’s not too young is she?” Dominic demanded sharply, his eyes open again and narrowed. “If they sent me a child—”

  Gabriel interrupted with a laugh. “D’you really think the Prince Regent would have made his demands without first finding out if there was a Whitworth daughter of marriageable age? No, she’s at least old enough for that. Would you like me to read more of—”

  “No.” Dominic waited. But Gabriel merely put the book he’d just picked up back on the nightstand and got comfortable in the stuffed chair to take a nap as soon as Dominic nodded off for one. As if there weren’t more to tell of his meeting with the Whitworth chit. As if Dominic weren’t the least bit curious about the girl who was being forced on him. He wasn’t. She wouldn’t be staying. He’d even supply a coach for her return trip when she refused to marry him.

  But when Gabriel still said nothing else, Dominic finally snapped, “Bloody hell, what’s she look like?”

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask, but since you did . . .” Gabriel paused for a long sigh. “She’s got a wart on the left side of her jaw and another one by her nose. I didn’t stare at them too long, I promise. Red, florid cheeks more suited to a farm wench, big owlish eyes. But if you can overlook all that and her weight—”

  “She’s fat, too?”

  “A little—” Gabriel shook his head. “Very well, a lot. But a good diet and exercise could surely fix that. I can start a regimen for her if you—”

  “No. And do not befriend her. I want her to hate this place and leave on her own.”

  “So her chubbiness is a problem?”

  “Don’t be obtuse, Gabe. I could not care less what she looks like.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “Because I would prefer not to be surprised one way or the other, and truth be told, I feared she might be a beauty sent here to tempt me, since her brother is a handsome fellow despite his black soul. I’m glad at least that she’s not comely, because my course was determined the moment that royal toady threatened me with the consequences of not following his master’s wishes. Justice will be served if Robert Whitworth loses everything that he cares about because of his sister. So she has to refuse to marry me, and we are going to assure that she does. Are we clear on that?”

  “Crystal.”

  “Then fetch her to me.”

  “You don’t care if she’s repulsed by what the doctor left on you?”

  “I don’t care if she faints. Bring her—and some smelling salts with you.”

  Chapter Ten

  “WE NEED TO FIND out if there is a conservatory or a greenhouse where we can plant your herb cuttings,” Brooke said to Alfreda.

  They were on their way to the stable to look for Raston, and Brooke also wanted to make sure Rebel was going to be well cared for. She’d left her bonnet and pelisse in the bedroom since the day was comfortably warm. Her Empire-style pink dress had short capped sleeves and, for modesty during daytime, a matching chemisette that was tucked into the deeply scooped neckline. Brooke had never had occasion to leave off the tucker, though she knew she would have been expected to when she attended evening gatherings in London.

  “Those cuttings need to be planted soonest before they wither and die,” she added. “I know you’ve been worried about that.”

  “You are my only worry, poppet. You are and always have been my one true focus, since the day they put you in my arms to nurse. The cuttings I can plant in the ground for now, perhaps behind the hedges where no one but the gardeners will notice them. There’s good, fertile soil here. That park behind the house attests to that.”

  “Yes, but we can also build our own greenhouse if there isn’t one here. Harriet gave me money for this trip, more’n I needed. Not because she wanted to, but because it would reflect badly on her if she sent me here with empty pockets. You know how she is, always doing what’s ‘expected of her’ whether she wants to or not.”

  “She loved you in her own way, poppet.”

  “Don’t defend her. I know my mother and I don’t want to think about her now.” To keep that old hurt from joining all of the other unpleasant emotions she was dealing with right now, Brooke quickly changed the subject. “Do you think that’s a greenhouse?”

  Alfreda followed Brooke’s gaze to a small building by the tall hedges bordering the park. “Hard to tell what’s in it from here. It could just be the gardeners’ shed.”

  “I can’t tell from here if that’s glass on the roof and sides or just light-colored boards.”

  Alfreda squinted her eyes at the little rectangular shed. “If it’s glass, it’s very dirty glass. But we’ll have a look after I find Raston.”

  As soon as they stepped inside the stable, they heard a loud meow that seemed to come from above them and made both of them laugh. Raston didn’t get up from the long support beam where he was lying; he had just wanted them to know he’d seen them.

  An elderly white-haired man approached with a teenage boy beside him and said, “The cat will be fine here, ma’am, actually a welcome addition. I spotted a few mice in the hay pile this morning and I was just thinking of fetching my sister’s cat from the village since our resident mouse-catcher seems to have abandoned us. Can’t have vermin underfoot here spooking the horses. Your cat will likely take care of that problem—if he’s yours?”

  “Indeed,” Alfreda replied.

  The man’s weathered face creased further when he grinned at Alfreda slightly because he’d guessed correctly, but when he glanced at Brooke, he appeared undecided whether to say anything else. For a moment, she could have sworn his expression turned pitying. But then he seemed to shake off whatever emotion that had been and introduced himself. “I’m Arnold Biscane, head groom here at Rothdale Manor. And this is my youngest son, Peter.”

  “You’re related to Gabriel Biscane?” Brooke asked curiously.

  “Gabe is my nephew. And Peter has already put your mare out to pasture with the other mares and will fetch her when you need her. She will be well cared for here.”

  “Thank you.” Brooke smiled. “Indeed, Rebel is precious to me.”

  She didn’t just love her horse. Rebel represented hope for her future. She wanted to breed the mare while Rebel was still young. She hadn’t been allowed to at home because their head groom had orders not to increase the stock. When she was younger, she had devised all sorts of plans to accomplish her goal anyway, even trying at midnight when the grooms were asleep. But she was afraid to get near her father’s stallion that Rebel favored. But Brooke might be allowed to breed Rebel here, if the wolf did indeed breed horses.

  She would ask the viscount that when, or rather if, she ever met him. At the moment she was more concerned about Alfreda’s herb cuttings and asked Arnold, “Is that a greenhouse we saw over by the hedges?”

  Arnold nodded. “Lady Anna, Viscount Rothdale’s mother, had it built. She loved to garden and didn’t want to mar the design of the house by adding a conservatory. She grew special flowers that were later replanted in the park. Some even survived after she left, though everything inside the greenhouse has long since withered and died.”

  “D’you think I could do some gardening in the greenhouse?”

  He didn’t answer, probably didn’t know if she would be allowed to, but he did ask instead, “You think you’ll be staying then, m’lady, and marrying his lordship despite the curse?”

  She wondered why he suddenly looked so sad and then realized he must believe in that silly curse. She almost giggled at his question though. What a deplorable subject to raise, and she didn’t even know the answer!

  So she said, “That’s a very good question, but the answer remains to be seen, since I haven’t even m
et him yet. Thank you for seeing to my horse. I’d like to meet all of the Rothdale horses when I have more time, but just now I’m going to go check on Rebel out back while my maid has a closer look at the greenhouse. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes, Freda.”

  Brooke walked through the large stable and out the open back door. The pasture fence began back there and stretched far to the west. She spotted Rebel grazing in the far field. The male horses were kept in the near pasture. She watched them for a while, noting that no slugs were in the bunch. Prime horseflesh, all of them. One trotted toward her. He was solid black, even his mane and tail, and beautifully sleek even as big as he was. He stuck his head over the fence trying to reach her.

  She moved closer to rub his nose gently. “Well, aren’t you pretty. Yes, I know you’re not a mare, so don’t take offense. You’re still pretty.”

  “You’re a brave one, aren’t you? Dominic’s stallion isn’t usually friendly to anyone. He’s tried to bite me a time or two.”

  The horse galloped off as Brooke swung around to see Gabriel standing behind her. “I love horses. Perhaps they sense that.”

  He shook his head. “I love horses, too. Who doesn’t, as handy as they are? But that brute still tries to bite anyone who approaches him, carrot in hand or not. Just be cautious if he comes near you again, or just don’t go too close to his fence. He’s king of the roost.” Gabriel laughed and waved his hand behind him. “Like his owner is of all the rest.”

  That didn’t sound like an order, merely friendly advice that she could take or ignore as she pleased, but she nodded. “Have you come to give me a tour of the property?”

  “No, he’s ready to see you.” Gabriel extended an arm toward the house.

  Her feet might as well have just grown roots. She wasn’t moving. “Why?”