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Authors: Emily Greenwood
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anyway.”
Which supposition caused both girls to collapse in giggles. Lily, meanwhile, was consumed with plans, which occupied her as Roxham and Eloise took their leave amid promises to keep the Teagardens apprised of any developments with the Woods Fiend.
Eloise had mentioned the old tree next to Mayfield, and Lily knew just which one she meant; it grew close to the walls of the manor. And now she knew that the room it was near belonged to the viscount—who would be gone to the woods for much of the evening.
Making tonight the perfect opportunity for her to take back what was hers.
***
On his return to Mayfield, Hal was met by his butler, who was wringing his hands. “They’ve gone, my lord. The Italians—the folly builders.”
“Giuseppe and Pietro?”
“Apparently they heard about the Woods Fiend and it scared them.”
“How could it? They barely speak English.”
“I think that’s part of the problem, that they don’t quite understand. It’s been illustrated to them with wild gestures and looks of fright—the stable boys amusing themselves. The Italians packed up their things while you were gone and left.”
Damn that man, whoever it was that was masquerading as the Woods Fiend. Hal had been hoping the folly would be finished well before Guy Fawkes Night; he meant to have an enormous bonfire at Mayfield then, with ladies clad in togas wandering about the folly. Some of his fellow officers were to be there as well, on leave.
He sighed. “Do you know where they’ve gone?”
“To the village inn.”
“Send someone with funds to tide them over.”
“Very good, sir. I did try to get them to understand that the Woods Fiend is undoubtedly just some local rascal, and that you and the earl are close to catching him, but they made it plain they couldn’t return until he was captured.”
“Which will be tonight, if I have anything to do with it,” Hal said, advancing up the grand staircase with determination growing at every step.
Five
Lily waited in her room that night while Thistlethwaite settled down, her knees bumping together nervously as she sat at her vanity in the dark and went over her plan. She was wearing an old black pair of Ian’s breeches, along with a dark waistcoat of Rob’s. A bag slung across her body held gloves for climbing.
The snugness of the pants across her bottom felt like a warning for what she was about to do, which was certainly far worse than hiding in shrubbery to sketch a gentleman. Her common sense had already tried talking her out of her plan; she knew the risks of being discovered by Roxham or a servant or guest. But she couldn’t seem to make herself want to stop, and she had to admit that the pleasure she might have in besting Roxham was irresistible.
A faint chiming sounded in the drawing room, the notes of the grandfather clock marking half past ten. It was time.
All was silent as she slipped out of the house on tiptoe. It was a brisk twenty-minute walk to Mayfield Hall. The moon was hidden by clouds, and she hoped to be well concealed by the dark. Not that there ought to be anyone about, except Roxham and Ivorwood in search of their quarry. Please God they wouldn’t see her.
She kept away from the woods, skirting them so widely that she tripped over a pile of stones near the half-built folly. So like him, she thought as she crawled over the rocks until she was clear of the site, to want a building whose only purpose was pleasure. Reaching the back of Mayfield Hall, she hid herself among the dense hawthorn bushes that grew along the terrace, the very ones where she’d hidden four years before. All the rooms on the second floor were dark, as was his—she saw it near the tree.
Across the terrace, the drawing room doors were open. Eloise, Diana, John, and Mrs. Whyte, all dressed in evening clothes, stood talking. As Lily watched, Diana went over to the piano and began to play, and Lily recognized a sweet tune that had been popular during her
Which supposition caused both girls to collapse in giggles. Lily, meanwhile, was consumed with plans, which occupied her as Roxham and Eloise took their leave amid promises to keep the Teagardens apprised of any developments with the Woods Fiend.
Eloise had mentioned the old tree next to Mayfield, and Lily knew just which one she meant; it grew close to the walls of the manor. And now she knew that the room it was near belonged to the viscount—who would be gone to the woods for much of the evening.
Making tonight the perfect opportunity for her to take back what was hers.
***
On his return to Mayfield, Hal was met by his butler, who was wringing his hands. “They’ve gone, my lord. The Italians—the folly builders.”
“Giuseppe and Pietro?”
“Apparently they heard about the Woods Fiend and it scared them.”
“How could it? They barely speak English.”
“I think that’s part of the problem, that they don’t quite understand. It’s been illustrated to them with wild gestures and looks of fright—the stable boys amusing themselves. The Italians packed up their things while you were gone and left.”
Damn that man, whoever it was that was masquerading as the Woods Fiend. Hal had been hoping the folly would be finished well before Guy Fawkes Night; he meant to have an enormous bonfire at Mayfield then, with ladies clad in togas wandering about the folly. Some of his fellow officers were to be there as well, on leave.
He sighed. “Do you know where they’ve gone?”
“To the village inn.”
“Send someone with funds to tide them over.”
“Very good, sir. I did try to get them to understand that the Woods Fiend is undoubtedly just some local rascal, and that you and the earl are close to catching him, but they made it plain they couldn’t return until he was captured.”
“Which will be tonight, if I have anything to do with it,” Hal said, advancing up the grand staircase with determination growing at every step.
Five
Lily waited in her room that night while Thistlethwaite settled down, her knees bumping together nervously as she sat at her vanity in the dark and went over her plan. She was wearing an old black pair of Ian’s breeches, along with a dark waistcoat of Rob’s. A bag slung across her body held gloves for climbing.
The snugness of the pants across her bottom felt like a warning for what she was about to do, which was certainly far worse than hiding in shrubbery to sketch a gentleman. Her common sense had already tried talking her out of her plan; she knew the risks of being discovered by Roxham or a servant or guest. But she couldn’t seem to make herself want to stop, and she had to admit that the pleasure she might have in besting Roxham was irresistible.
A faint chiming sounded in the drawing room, the notes of the grandfather clock marking half past ten. It was time.
All was silent as she slipped out of the house on tiptoe. It was a brisk twenty-minute walk to Mayfield Hall. The moon was hidden by clouds, and she hoped to be well concealed by the dark. Not that there ought to be anyone about, except Roxham and Ivorwood in search of their quarry. Please God they wouldn’t see her.
She kept away from the woods, skirting them so widely that she tripped over a pile of stones near the half-built folly. So like him, she thought as she crawled over the rocks until she was clear of the site, to want a building whose only purpose was pleasure. Reaching the back of Mayfield Hall, she hid herself among the dense hawthorn bushes that grew along the terrace, the very ones where she’d hidden four years before. All the rooms on the second floor were dark, as was his—she saw it near the tree.
Across the terrace, the drawing room doors were open. Eloise, Diana, John, and Mrs. Whyte, all dressed in evening clothes, stood talking. As Lily watched, Diana went over to the piano and began to play, and Lily recognized a sweet tune that had been popular during her
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