Page 71 of Fortune Favors the Viscount
He grinned. “Right you are. Shall we break a window and let ourselves in like a gang of thieves?” Without waiting for an answer he strode off, his boots barely crunching on the weed-infested drive.
“Is anyone still here, Millie?” whispered Lucy.
She took a deep breath. “Perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Stone.” They’d been longtime Sidney family employees, rather dour and stern, but unquestionably devoted to the family.
But that had been several months ago. Only Mrs. Watson and her nephew Henry, who had come to Beaufort Hall with the late Lady Sydenham, had gone with them to London; the few remaining servants had left the day Emilia told them there was no money for salaries until she located the new viscount.
“Why don’t you wait here?” she told the girls. She caught James’s eye and he nodded. He began talking about climbing the stately elm trees that lined the drive, which made Charlotte giggle. Lucy even gave a hesitant smile.
Emilia picked up her skirts and ran after Nick.
She found him peering through a window on the terrace. Several of the panes were cracked, but none had fallen out; there was hope the interior hadn’t been ruined by rain or pests. “A library?” he guessed, one hand shielding his eyes. “It could be, if there were any books on the shelves.”
She shook her head. “Lord Sydenham didn’t care for books. He sold whatever was here.” He’d sold everything he could find a buyer for, until he began drinking too much. And then Emilia had sold the few bits left in pursuit of funds for food, each time saying a little prayer she wouldn’t be sent to prison for it.
Nick nodded and moved to the French windows. They looked as if they hadn’t been opened in months, with dead leaves stuck to the glass and grass growing tall through a fissure in the flagstones where they would swing. He tried the handle, and when it didn’t move, to Emilia’s shock, he turned and jabbed his elbow through the glass, breaking it neatly so he could reach inside and turn the lock to open the door.
“Oh my—!” She scrambled after him into the house.
He gave her a level look. “It’s my house, isn’t it?”
She flushed. “Well—yes—”
“I’ll have it repaired.” His gaze flitted around as he started forward.
They stood in the back of the hall, looking toward the front of the house. They passed the library door to the right, and the door to the left, which had been closed up by the time Emilia arrived. It had been a music room, she remembered hearing, but of course the instruments were gone.
They came to the central core of the house, the staircase hall, which rose three stories to the roof, where a glass dome let in light—or should have done. Emilia craned her neck, but the upper floors were shrouded in darkness. Nick, meanwhile, had continued onward, and pulled back the bolt on the tall, carved front door, shoving it open with a groan of hinges.
Outside, Charlotte whirled around, a smile on her lips. James was swinging his arms wildly in some comical pantomime, but stopped.
Lucy stood to the side, her face white and her wide eyes fixed on the door.
Nick coughed and waved one hand in front of his face. “I feel like a cave explorer. It’s dark, dirty, and cold in here.”
“Is no one home?” asked Charlotte.
“Just us,” Nick told her. “And a legion of mice.”
“If only we’d brought Sir Chester,” Emilia said lightly. “He would be in alt!”
Charlotte laughed. Lucy’s mouth trembled.
Nick flung the doors wide and left them open. He told the coachman and groom to put the horses to graze on the overgrown lawn and go examine the stables, whose roof was visible further along the drive, behind a wild scrub of shrubbery. Then he led the way from room to room, tossing aside draperies and shutters to illuminate them. Charlotte and James both picked up on his unspoken message to be cheerful, and soon the house was echoing with laughter and shouts of surprise as they discovered broken furniture, several nests of mice, and a pair of squirrels, who shot out from under a table draped in Holland covers chattering violently before racing out the open door.
Lucy stayed close to Emilia, holding tight to her hand. She said little as Charlotte peeked under furniture covers and James opened doors. It was a game to the two of them, but Lucy had terrible memories of this place.
Nick came and went down on one knee, a lit lantern in each hand. “Lucinda, will you guide me upstairs? I wouldn’t want to fall down a concealed trap door and land in the coal cellar.”
Lucy gave a small, hesitant, smile. She let go of Emilia’s hand and took Nick’s, accepting one of the lanterns from him as well.
Emilia followed them up the winding stairs. The lanterns grew more and more necessary as they climbed; she wondered what had happened to the glass dome above that used to illuminate the hall. The house had a deserted, hollow feel to it. It hadn’t felt that way when they left six months ago, but the Stones must have shut it up and finally gone away, too.
A gallery ran around the staircase hall on each floor, with tall doors into each room. In the daylight it was impressive, all in cream with gold accents in the elaborately carved edges. In the dark it felt ghostly, as if all the light and life had faded from the place.
Emilia watched Nick and Lucy. She saw how the girl clung to his hand and stayed close to him, and how he held the lantern above her path so she could see better, though it left him more in the dark. He was offering obvious protection as he gently guided Lucy through the place she had feared. Her heart gave an unsteady thump; she was so head over heels for the man, it was somewhat frightening.
They peeked into the large drawing room, an antechamber, and a room Emilia had forgotten because it had never been used in her time here. It had been Lucy’s mother’s parlor, she remembered with a pang, as the lantern light fell on a pale rose carpet, mottled with dirt and eaten through in places. Lucy whispered to Nick something or other about each room, and he nodded gravely. Emilia was curious, but hung back, wanting Lucy to have someone else she could trust.
