been a difficult evening and at times she’d felt close to giving way to a fit of weeping. However, she’d sensed that Lucy was on the verge of hysteria so she’d controlled her own nerves and done all she could to ease her friend’s terrible grief. And then Lady Dawlish, a kind but sensitive lady who seemed almost as overset by the tragedy as her daughter.
However, Mr Adam Miller’s kind words and the look in his eyes had lifted Jenny’s spirits. She was astonished at the change in his character, for at the ball in London he’d seemed proud and arrogant—but in times of stress and tragedy one discovered the truth about the people around one. She had gone from feeling wary when he offered to take her up in his phaeton, to being amused and now her feelings were far warmer than was sensible for a man she hardly knew.
Jenny had realised shortly after she was taken up in Mr Miller’s phaeton that he thought her in the position of an unpaid companion—perhaps some kind of poor relation. Her uncle’s antiquated carriage, the plainness of her gown, which her aunt had purchased in a spirit of generosity, but according to her own notions of economy, and something Jenny had said had made him think her if not penniless, then close to it.
Mr Miller—or Adam, as he’d invited her to call him—had taken pity on her because of her situation. What would he think if he knew that her father had left her comfortably situated? He might despise her, think her a liar or that she had deliberately deceived him. Yet there was no need for him to know. None of her friends knew the truth. Most must have assumed that her father had lost much of his money—why else would her uncle have disposed of his house, horses and carriages? Jenny thought it nonsensical for had she still been able she might have lived in her own home and paid a companion. Yet she was content to live with her friends. She liked pretty clothes and trinkets, but would not have bought an extensive wardrobe even had she been consulted. However, her aunt’s taste for very severe ensembles was not precisely what Jenny liked and, as soon as she received the allowance Mr Nodgrass had agreed to, she would indulge herself with some prettier gowns. For the moment grey or dark colours would be more suitable, because Lucy and her family would undoubtedly wear mourning for a time.
Taking the pins from her hair, Jenny let it fall on her shoulders. Dark and springy with red tones, it was apt to tangle and she had to attack it with her brush to make it settle into acceptable waves and curls. Her eyes were a soft grey, her mouth inclined to curve at the corners most of the time and her nose short with a sprinkling of freckles. She knew that she was considered attractive, though she thought her nose too short for beauty. Had Papa and Mama lived she would have been having her Season this year—or perhaps she might already have been married. Her father’s tragic death had led to her living in seclusion for months at her uncle’s house. The prospect of Lucy’s wedding had been enticing for she was due some gaiety and a relief from mourning, but that was no longer to be.
Her heart was too tender to feel resentment. For the moment all that mattered was to be of comfort to Lucy and her family. However, she could not help thinking that Adam Miller was one of the most attractive men she’d ever met. When he’d kissed her hand a tingle had gone down her spine and she’d been aware of an urgent desire to be taken into his arms and be kissed on the lips—and that thought was too disgraceful!
How could she think of such a thing at a time like this? Was she shameless?
Her thoughts were nonsensical. Besides, he had made his feelings about heiresses plain in London. Adam might need to marry one, but he did not like them. If he discovered that she was not the poor companion he thought her, he would probably imagine she’d lied on purpose to entrap him.
Shaking her head, Jenny hid her smile of amusement as the door opened and Lucy entered. She looked pale, but her tears had dried and when Jenny held out her hands she took them.
‘I have left him with his family,’ she said. A little sob escaped her. ‘Do you think he knows that I sat with him, told him I loved him? There is so much I wished to say and now it is too late.’
‘I am sure he knew you loved him...’
Lucy shook her head and turned away to unpin her hair. She slipped off her dress, but did not remove her petticoats. ‘I feel so guilty,’ she said. ‘Oh, Jenny. If only I could bring him back...if I could explain...’
‘Explain what, dearest?’
‘Nothing. I cannot speak of it now,’ Lucy said and dashed away her tears. ‘I must try to sleep if I can.’
‘We shall be quiet, but I am here if you want to talk.’
‘I need to talk, but I cannot yet,’ Lucy said, an oddly defensive expression in her eyes. ‘Perhaps in a few days—but you must not condemn me when I tell you and you must promise not to leave me. I do not think I could bear Mama’s smothering if you were not here.’
Jenny pulled back the sheets for her. ‘Come to bed, Lucy.’
Lucy smiled gratefully. ‘I think that perhaps I could sleep now.’
‘Yes, we shall both sleep if we can.’
Jenny lay listening to the sound of Lucy’s laboured breathing as she tried to smother her tears. Her body trembled as the grief poured out of her, but after a while she quietened and then fell asleep. Jenny was too thoughtful and uncertain to sleep herself for some time and the reason for her restlessness was a pair of dark eyes and a face that was almost too handsome.
* * *
‘Mark slipped away quietly with all his family about him,’ Adam said to the vicar when he called the next day. ‘I am certain Lord Ravenscar will want to talk to you about the arrangements, perhaps later this afternoon. He is resting for the moment.’
‘Yes, of course. I am entirely at his disposal. I shall return later.’
Adam nodded. Lord Ravenscar had already arranged for his son’s body to lie in state in the chapel for three days before the funeral.
‘The tenants and workers will want to pay their respects,’ he’d told Adam earlier. ‘He would have been their lord when I depart this earth and it is only fitting that they should have the chance to say goodbye.’
Adam had agreed. It also meant that he could now make a search of his cousin’s rooms, which he needed to do as soon as possible. Hallam had remained at the house through the night and he, Paul and Adam were to meet shortly to begin their search. Lucy and her mother were at that moment enclosed with Lord Ravenscar, but would be leaving for home later that morning. So if he were to make his search before escorting them, he must begin now.
After taking leave of the vicar, Adam went up to Mark’s room. Hallam and Paul were already there and had begun the search in Mark’s sitting room. Paul had the top drawer of the desk open and was looking through some papers he’d discovered.
‘I thought I’d take the dressing room,’ Hallam said. ‘Adam—would you do the bedchamber, please?’
‘Yes, of course.’
Adam walked into his cousin’s room. The bed had been stripped down to the mattress and left open, the maids having been told to leave it that way for the time being. All the bloodstained sheets and covers had been taken away to be burned. A shiver of ice ran down Adam’s spine as he approached the bedside cabinet. Pictures of his cousin lying in the bed made it feel wrong to be searching this room, which was why Paul and Hallam had decided against the task.
In normal circumstances the room would have been left for weeks or months before being touched,
