Page 5 of The Vixen in Red
“I wouldn’t know,” he told her. “I have not been to Peacehaven in years. I’ve left my holdings in the hands of an estate manager. He retired recently.” A lie, but the truth embarrassed him. Collin did not want this lady to know the full extent of his neglect. He should have come to his family’s home much sooner. “I have to inspect the property and ascertain what must be done. Maybe, after that, I’ll consider hiring someone new to look after it.” He might never trust his home to anyone’s care ever again. It still burned that the last estate manager had stolen from him and fled the country. He’d talked to the authorities, and they couldn’t do anything unless the bastard returned to England.
“Why have you not returned sooner?” she asked.
“My parents…” He swallowed hard. He didn’t like to talk about them. “They died near my estate. It’s hard for me to be near where they passed away.” Taking her to her aunt’s cottage would help him avoid it a little while longer.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I love my parents, and while I’m currently annoyed with them, I cannot imagine not having them in my life.” She glanced away, and he wished he knew what she was thinking. He didn’t ask though.
“You never did say how long you’d be in Peacehaven.” He wanted to keep her talking. “Surely your parents gave you some indication of how long they would make you suffer.”
She sighed. “My mother took great pleasure in delivering my punishment. It was frightening how much glee she actually found in it. She’s quite terrifying when she wants to be.” She shook her head. “I used to think my father was more diabolical. I mean, he used to be a spy, but he has nothing on my mother.”
Collin had forgotten that the Marquess of Seabrook used to work for the home office. He’d been a spy during the war. That bit wasn’t common knowledge—Collin had overheard a conversation once between the marquess and Collin’s brother-in-law, the Earl of Shelby. Shelby’s father had been close to Seabrook, and they’d been reminiscing. “I think all mothers are capable of delivering a punishment of that sort. At least the good ones.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I’ve said that already. I keep going on and on about my parents, and you lost yours. I’m going to quit complaining.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “They died a long time ago.” No matter how many years passed, he’d never get over their loss. He didn’t want her to feel bad though. It was nice that she was empathetic and concerned about him though. It made him feel…good.
“My mother said I would have to stay here until midsummer,” she told him. “But I suspect I can probably return to Seabrook when they retire there after the Season. My father will likely want to return home sooner. I think perhaps I’ll be here a month, two at most.”
“That doesn’t sound too terrible.”
“No,” she agreed. “I wish they had allowed me to go to Seabrook. It was what I wanted though, so I suspect that is the reason they banished me to Aunt Seraphina’s.”
Collin guided the curricle down a path that led to her aunt’s home. He may not have returned to Peacehaven in years, but some things a boy didn’t forget. He’d played at the cottage often enough as a child. Her aunt had been wonderful. Her house wasn’t too far from his home. He pulled the carriage to a stop in front the small dwelling. “We’ve arrived,” he said.
“I suppose we have,” she said quietly. “Thank you again for everything.”
She stepped out of the carriage without asking him for assistance. That didn’t surprise him. A lady that dared to ride in breeches would want to do what she could for herself. He’d have a servant help with her trunk and leave her to see her own way inside. After that, he’d finally return to his home…
Chapter 4
After the harrowing day Charlotte had arrived in Peacehaven, everything else had gone…better. Not that she was happy to be at her Aunt Seraphina’s, but at least she hadn’t come across any more trouble. The carriage driver had been able to get the wheel fixed and return to Seabrook after he brought her trunks to her. She wished she could have gone with him…
Peacehaven, the little she’d observed of it, seemed to be a decent enough town. She hadn’t been able to relax or feel anything like she did when she was at home. Charlotte had not been able to write. She had stared at a blank parchment for hours. The words would not come, no matter how much she tried to conjure them. The struggle to do the one thing she’d wanted more than anything… None of this had figured into her plans. What if she failed?
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Somehow, she would have to find her muse. Perhaps she should set her writing aside for a little bit and spend some time with her aunt. Charlotte had been a bit bratty since her arrival and hadn’t bothered to be courteous. It wasn’t Aunt Seraphina’s fault her parents had banished her to Peacehaven. She should apologize and maybe then she could find a way to write her novel.
Charlotte set her pencil down on the writing desk in her bedchamber and then left her room. Her aunt would probably be in the sitting room preparing for midmorning tea. She would join her aunt and have tea and scones. She was feeling a bit puckish. Perhaps that was why writing anything proved difficult. After she had something to eat, she’d try again.
She went into the sitting room. Her aunt sat in her favorite chair near the window. A full service teacart had been brought in, including scones, butter, and jam. Charlotte moved over to her aunt and sat on the settee next to her chair.
“I’m so glad you decided to join me,” Aunt Seraphina said. She lifted her lips into a congenial smile. “You’ve been pouting long enough.”
“I’m not pouting,” she said, a little affronted.
“Oh?” Her aunt lifted a brow. “What do you call secluding yourself in your room for three days and only coming out for meals?”
“Adjusting to my new surroundings,” Charlotte replied with a lift of her chin. “If you must know, I’ve been attempting to write a novel.”
She hated that her aunt thought her a petulant child. It didn’t help that it hit the mark. She had been moping in her room and cursing her parents for sending her to Peacehaven. A part of her couldn’t help wondering if her writing would have suffered so at Seabrook. Charlotte hated any undue alteration to her life, and this was perhaps the biggest change she’d suffered in a long time.
“What a wonderful idea,” her aunt said. “What is your novel going to be about?”
Charlotte beamed. Her aunt was taking an interest in her writing. She should not have been surprised, but couldn’t help feeling it. No one else in her family seemed to think anything would come of her endeavor. The problem was she had no idea what her novel was actually about. Every time she sat to think about it, her mind went blank.
What should she tell her aunt? She boasted about writing, and had done…no writing. “I don’t wish to jinx anything,” she told her aunt. “When it is finished, I’d love for you to read it though.”
“How wonderful,” her aunt repeated. “I look forward to its completion then.”
