The Mysterious Miss Flint (Lost Ladies of London Book 1) Page 4

  Mrs Gripes coughed. “And what of us, my lord?” The housekeeper’s shoulders sagged. “Are we to be punished for following your father’s orders? When we attacked you, we thought you were Lord Cunningham. We were only doing what the earl told us.”

  Oliver couldn’t stop the satisfied grin from forming. “It may surprise you to learn that your fate lies in the hands of another.”

  Mrs Gripes blinked rapidly. “Then who is to be our new master?”

  Oliver glanced at Miss Flint, at the plump pillow lips made for kissing. He inclined his head. “Miss Flint is now the owner of Morton Manor.”

  Chapter Four

  “There must be a mistake.” Nicole’s heart fluttered. To own a house the size of Morton Manor was a fantasy, a dream one wished for but never thought to obtain. She looked up at Lord Stanton only to meet the most striking pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen. “The earl hired me as a companion for Rose.” Well, that was what the old devil had told her. Despite being a gentleman’s daughter, Nicole would have scrubbed floors for an opportunity to flee the city. “He never mentioned what would happen if he passed.”

  “There’s no mistake,” Lord Stanton affirmed. “I have seen the documents myself. A trip to Mr Jameson’s office will be necessary. There are legal matters to address, details to verify.”

  “Mr Jameson’s office?” Nicole’s apprehension was evident in her tone. The process sounded complicated, too formal. “You refer to your father’s solicitor?”

  “To one of them, yes.”

  Was it too much to hope that the solicitor lived in a remote village far from the bustling streets of London? Was it too much to hope that he required no proof of her identity?

  “And you’re certain I am the person named in the will?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “But this can’t be.” Mrs Gripes stepped forward, ignoring the fact that making any form of protest to an earl was considered impertinent. Her chapped lips turned down at the corners as she scanned Nicole from head to toe. The woman took pleasure in other people’s misery and was incapable of accepting anyone’s good fortune. “Why would an earl leave a house to his servant?”

  “Who can say?” Lord Stanton shrugged. “Whatever my father’s reason for making the generous gift, Miss Flint is your mistress now.”

  A groan left Stokes’ lips, and he mumbled under his breath.

  “And what about us?” Baxter rubbed his sore wrists. From the rebellious glint in his eye, Nicole doubted the man would take orders from a woman. Particularly one who had robbed him of his masculinity and stripped him of his honour.

  “That is for Miss Flint to decide,” Lord Stanton replied. “And I must insist that she does so with the utmost haste. There are more pressing matters to address.”

  He spoke of finding Rose.

  Guilt flared.

  Her efforts to help Rose escape had been for nought. Even though they were of a similar age, Nicole couldn’t help but feel responsible for the lady. Lost in her own fanciful notions of romance, she’d imagined Rose would find her way back to London with ease. Imagined her running into Lord Cunningham’s arms, them hastening across the River Sark and marrying over the anvil in Gretna Green.

  But life rarely mirrored the happy-ever-after found in fairy tales.

  “Well, Miss Flint?” Lord Stanton tapped his foot. “What do you intend to do?”

  Nicole noted the look of contempt in the servants’ eyes. The other guard, Tucker, the groom and the maid were yet to appear but were equally mean-spirited and vicious. Even if she could forgive their jailers for the high-handed way they had carried out the old earl’s instructions, she would never trust them. They were rogues by nature, liable to strip the house of everything valuable and leave it as empty as a pauper’s purse. To hide any wrongdoing, they would send the building up in flames and leave her with nothing but a pile of dying embers.

  Nicole focused her gaze on Lord Stanton. “May I speak to you in private, my lord?”

  “Certainly.” He inclined his head and gestured to the courtyard beyond the door. “Lead the way, Miss Flint.”

  Nicole waited until they were a good distance from the house before asking her question. “Must I sign the papers first, or am I able to dismiss the entire household without notice?”

  The earl smiled. “Obviously, it would be wise to stake your claim before making any rash decisions.” His rakish gaze drifted over her loosely flowing hair, and he gave a faint hum of approval. “There is also the question of whether you have the funds to maintain a house of this size. Without first speaking to Mr Jameson, one cannot know of my father’s full intentions. But after your experiences here, I understand your desire to seek satisfaction.”

  An image of the heartless earl’s face flashed into her mind. It would come as no surprise to learn it was all a wicked game invented by the old man to torment her from beyond the grave. Either way, as far as Stokes and Mrs Gripes were concerned, she was the mistress of Morton Manor now. And she deserved some form of recompense for the misery they’d caused.

  “Nothing would please me more than to escort them all to the gate and shout good riddance.” Nicole’s heart skipped at the prospect. “And you are happy to acknowledge my position here until a claim can be made?”

  “Have I not already said so?” Lord Stanton leant forward even though there was no danger of anyone hearing what he had to say. “As mistress of the house, you may do as you please.”

  A wave of excitement coursed through her, or was it the earl’s warm breath on her neck that made her shiver? “Needless to say, I shall require your assistance.”

  “And you shall have it.” He nodded to the man sitting on top of the box seat of his carriage. “Jackson is more than a match for Stokes. And may I suggest you take the keys from Mrs Gripes and secure the house? Once we return to London, all matters relating to Morton Manor can be dealt with swiftly.”

  Return to London? She couldn’t possibly go back there.

  “With the manor being but a two-hour journey from the city, surely Mr Jameson will be only too happy to visit me here. I see no reason to leave.”

  Lord Stanton frowned. He towered over her, his broad shoulders filling her line of vision. “In case you have failed to note the impatience in my tone or miss the furrowed lines on my brow, let me make my position clear, Miss Flint.” His blue eyes turned a steely shade of grey. “As my sister’s paid companion, and the person responsible for encouraging her to travel these dangerous roads alone at night, I must insist you accompany me.”

  Nicole swallowed. After witnessing the way he’d tackled Stokes, the earl was not a man who took no for an answer.

  “I cannot return to London, my lord.” Nicole inhaled deeply. He would want an explanation, and the truth was not something she was willing to impart.

  He tilted his head to the side as he studied her face. “Why ever not?”

  “Be-because there is someone I wish to avoid.” That was not a lie. “I am sure you have seen enough scoundrels parading the ton to determine the facts for yourself.”

  His gaze flicked briefly to her breasts, and her cheeks grew a little warmer. “There is a reason why a paid companion should appear dull and dowdy,” he said somewhat annoyed. “If you displayed your beauty as openly as you do now, I assume at least one gentleman behaved in an unacceptable manner.”

  Did the earl just say she was beautiful?

  Having received few compliments in her life, the comment distracted her thoughts momentarily from the abominable way Jeremy had behaved. Kindness and compassion were words foreign to her brother’s vocabulary. Money was his one true love.

  “Why do men feel it is their given right to own a woman?” She spoke of Rose’s predicament, too. “Why does wearing a dress mean a lady should forfeit the right to make decisions about her future?”

  “Some men prey on those they deem weak in order to feel empowered. But I can assure you, should you accompany me to London, I shall give you my full p
rotection.”

  “You do not need my help to find Rose, my lord.”

  A frustrated sigh left his lips. “No, I do not. But one glimpse at the crest on my carriage and I fear my sister will run for the hills.”

  Nicole considered the way the earl’s muscular thighs strained against the material of his breeches. “And as you have the advantage of longer strides, I am certain you will catch her.”

  “Do you not feel remotely responsible for the fact Rose is missing? Had it not been for your timely intervention, she would be nestled in my carriage and heading back to the comfort and safety of her home. Now I fear she may be ruined beyond all redemption.”

  Nicole flinched. The sharp stab to her heart forced her to suck in a breath. “Do not think to place the blame on my shoulders.” He had no right to pass judgement. When one suffered a loss of liberty emotions ran high. “Where were you, my lord, when Rose wept in my arms wishing she could escape from this hellhole? Where were you when she took ill, and I had to nurse her day and night because Mrs Gripes refused to call a doctor?”

  The earl tugged at his collar as he struggled to hold her gaze. “Had I known of your circumstances I would have intervened.”

  “The point is you didn’t.” Nicole’s silent prayers had gone unanswered. “Rose left here voluntarily. I am happy to admit that helping her to escape might not have been the best plan.” With the gift of hindsight, what seemed like the most logical course of action sometimes proved to be wrong. “What choice had we?”

  “None,” he said sharply. “But had my father been alive, he would have hunted you to the ends of the earth to punish you for the part you played.”

  An icy chill ran down the length of Nicole’s spine at the thought of being chased by a hound like Stokes. “You mean he would have hired others to do his bidding. How fortunate fate sought to intervene and brought you to Morton Manor.”

  “I would not express your gratitude to the gods just yet. Had I arrived some hours earlier, Rose would not be in her current predicament.” A resigned sigh left his lips. “As we are having an honest conversation, you should know that Rose may resent my interference. I left her. I left her in the hands of a deranged fool, and for that I fear she will never forgive me.”

  Nicole studied the earl’s firm jaw and down-turned mouth. His words conveyed a vulnerability rarely expressed by aristocratic gentlemen, one so opposed to the powerful presence that surely caused many a maiden to stop and take notice. There was something about his arrogant air of authority that appealed to her, for he was not the least bit overbearing.

  “And do you regret your decision, my lord? Do you regret leaving your sister without an ally?”

  The earl removed his hat and brushed his hand through his hair. “All that matters now is finding Rose. But if you want the truth, then yes, I regret abandoning her. I admit that I was wrong.”

  A strange feeling fluttered to life in Nicole’s chest. Never had she met anyone so open and honest with their feelings. Men were usually so sly, so devious. Jeremy often feigned kindness to secure her co-operation. Was the earl just another scoundrel capable of using feigned sentiment to provoke a reaction?

  “You judge yourself too harshly, my lord. Rose had first-hand experience of your father’s unjust demands. I’m confident she would understand the reason for your absence.”

  Why was she overcome with the need to appease him?

  He narrowed his gaze. “It is obvious you care for my sister. Those held captive form strong bonds. It is a proven theory.”

  Nothing could break the connection she shared with Rose.

  “It is true we became dear friends during our time here.”

  “Which is why I hope you will help me. I must know everything that happened at the manor if I’m to help Rose overcome the trauma of being locked away by her own father.”

  Well, Nicole could not argue with the earl’s logic.

  “And in return for your assistance, I shall help you deal with Mr Jameson,” the earl continued. He turned and looked out over the bleak fields shrouded in an eerie morning mist. “There is land to farm here. With the right guidance, the manor might prove profitable.”

  Nicole gave a wry chuckle. “And how am I to pay for labourers and livestock? How am I to pay for repairs when the roof leaks?”

  “Perhaps I might be persuaded to make an investment.”

  So the lord had turned to bribery in his desperation. “But only if I help you find Rose. Only if I persuade her that you knew nothing of your father’s wicked plans.”

  “What is it you want me to say, Miss Flint?” The earl stared at her. “Rose’s welfare is my only concern. I’ll not rest until she is safely back at Stanton House.”

  Genuine remorse swam in his eyes. While Nicole wanted to trust the sentiment expressed, it was his rich voice that held the power to persuade.

  But she could not go back.

  Nicole shook her head. “You ask the impossible, my lord.” She flinched, waiting for an angry roar of disapproval, for a demand to obey.

  “I can’t leave you here alone.” He closed the gap between them and her heart pounded against her ribcage. “You have a hunger for revenge, Miss Flint. I see it in your eyes. You seek to punish those who’ve tormented you.” His smooth, calm voice conveyed nothing of the inner torment she’d witnessed moments earlier. “Let me help you.”

  The aromatic scent of bergamot and cedar flooded her nostrils. Yet there was another fragrance too, something earthy and utterly masculine. Lord, if he continued to stare at her so intently she was liable to swoon.

  “Vengeance is a dream of the weak,” she said, fighting the urge to surrender but knowing it was a hopeless cause. “I am not so foolish as to believe I have the power to bring a man to his knees.”

  She imagined Jeremy’s forlorn expression as he begged for forgiveness. But her brother’s sad eyes masked a devil with no concept of remorse.

  “Help me find Rose. Persuade her of my good intentions, and I shall help you seek satisfaction against those who have harmed you.” He looked past her shoulder to the manor and gritted his teeth. “Starting with those damn rogues posing as servants.”

  Nothing would give her more pleasure than to watch the earl grab Stokes by the collar and drag him down the drive. But she found she could not entirely trust his motives. Was he just another scoundrel out to take advantage of a woman on her own?

  “Though you may think me naive, I am not a fool, my lord.”

  A frown marred his smooth brow. “Why do say that?”

  “There is only one reason a man would offer an unmarried lady his protection.”

  “Is there?” A mischievous grin played at the corners of his mouth. “Please feel free to enlighten me.”

  Oh, this man liked to tease.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Her cheeks grew warm, and she waved her hand back and forth between them by way of an explanation. “If seen together, everyone will assume I’m … I’m your mistress.”

  “And that offends you?” He chuckled. “Without meaning to sound conceited, Miss Flint, you are a paid companion. The role of mistress to an earl is considered a superior position.”

  “A superior position?” Nicole snorted. Perhaps if this were Hell, and the Devil was the only one to pass judgement, she might agree. “Do I strike you as a woman who would sell her soul for money?”

  “No.” The earl’s amused gaze drifted over her hair. “You strike me as a woman who cares nothing for other people’s opinion.” There was a hint of admiration in his voice. “You strike me as a woman who would do whatever it takes to see justice served. Even if that means posing as mistress to an earl.”

  “Posing? So you do not expect me to wear my bodice low and pander to your every need?”

  A sinful smile lit up his face. “Not unless you want to.”

  Nicole gasped.

  “I am teasing you, Miss Flint. You would be my mistress in name only. Once Rose is back at Stanton House, and you’re the
legal owner of Morton Manor, we will go our separate ways.”

  A faint sliver of disappointment surfaced. How odd. She was not a woman who welcomed the lewd attentions of men.

  “You assume my reputation means nothing to me.”

  He appeared somewhat confused. “Forgive me, but I doubt those in society even know who you are. An earl is unlikely to bed a paid companion when there are courtesans aplenty.”

  “Unless he’s a rogue,” she countered.

  “I can assure you, Miss Flint, my intentions are honourable.”

  So why did he look at her as though she was a mouth-watering meal served after a long and arduous journey?

  “Would you care to try again, my lord? This time, I require an honest answer if you have any hope of securing my assistance.”

  Another chuckle left his lips, and he held his hands up in surrender. “Very well. While my thoughts regarding your pleasing countenance are far from honourable, I am at heart a gentleman. Your virtue is safe with me.”

  Nicole gave a satisfied nod. “There is nothing like the truth to quash any misunderstandings.”

  “Indeed.”

  It was strange how one’s life could change drastically in the space of a day. Had the wicked earl really bequeathed her the manor house? Surely, once they were in London, it would all prove to be a terrible misunderstanding.

  But what if her luck had changed?

  Heavens, she would never have to worry about Jeremy and Rowena again.

  A frisson of fear shot through her at the thought of seeing her brother. What if Jeremy found her? What if he insisted on moving into the manor? Or worse still, used fraudulent means to force her to sell. He would find a way to manipulate things to his advantage.

  “I need your answer, Miss Flint.” The earl’s warm tone woke her from her reverie. “Every minute I waste here is another minute Rose is out there alone.”