“Thank you for the party, Miss Miller, Lord Willowdale,” Lady Harrington told them with a faint smile. “I enjoyed myself immensely.”
“It was our pleasure,” Freddie replied, inclining his head graciously. “Perhaps we will hold another one soon.”
“To announce Miss Miller’s engagement perhaps?”
Thea stiffened, though she kept her poise, her smile, the same. “Perhaps,” she replied, hoping her voice hid her dismay.
“As well as your own, Lord Willowdale,” Lady Harrington continued, apparently not noticing anything amiss. “You are quite the handsome and eligible bachelor. You must be forced to beat willing ladies off with a stick.”
“Well, not exactly, Lady Harrington,” Freddie answered with a wry grin. “We both have to find the right husband and or wife.”
“I am certain they will be crawling out of the woodwork.”
With that, she turned and strolled toward her carriage her coachman drove in her direction. He reined the carriage to a halt as her footman assisted her up, her maid following her inside. She waved as the coach rocked forward, the team of four breaking into a quick trot at the driver’s cracking whip.
“What did she mean by that?” Freddie asked, apparently bewildered, his brows lowered.
“She knows about our pest in the walls,” Thea answered, her eyes caught by the horseman cantering past the carriages leaving the Willowdale Estate. “She is the last to depart,” she said slowly, “and I for one am glad to have no more guests for a while. Who is that?”
“Surely you do not need me to tell you that.”
Anger coursed through her as the Baron of Ampleforth waved to the passing carriages, bowing in his saddle, his grin blooming clear, even from that distance. “You justhadto give him the freedom to call anytime he pleased,” she snapped at him.
“I did not think it would do any harm, Thea.”
“That is half the problem. You do not stop to think where that man is concerned.”
She was forced to break off her tirade as the Baron trotted his horse toward them, his happy grin still in place. Reining in at the porch steps, he bowed to Thea. “Did you have an accident, Miss Miller?” he asked, stepping down from his saddle as a groom arrived to take his horse from him.
Thea had schooled her expression into the icy haughtiness that still kept the Baron at a distance. “You might say that,” she replied, her tone neutral. She said nothing more, knowing it would be impolite for him to ask her directly what had happened.
The Baron glanced at Freddie. “You are looking well, my friend. I hoped we might take another short hunting trip. Our last one did not end so well.”
Eyeing Freddie’s expression from the corner of her eye without seeming to, Thea wondered how Freddie would react to this visit from his friend. The last time they saw each other, Freddie was angry at Ampleforth’s behavior toward the Countess of Sweetwater, and the need to care for their guests and deal with the assassin had prevented her from asking any questions. She thought she saw the spark of anger in his eyes, but she could not be certain.
His smile appeared just as broad as the two clasped hands. “Why not?” he replied easily. “Perhaps we might even go hawking. My birds have a need to stretch their wings.”
“Excellent idea, old chap.”
Thea led the way into the house with her brother and the Baron behind her. The attending servants bowed low, Liam among them, as they passed. She half listened to their light chatter as they spoke of hunting and hawking with enthusiasm, and she hoped Freddie would take the odious Baron out now. She planned to go to her chambers to lie down until the midday meal, where she must endure the Baron’s infantile attempts to charm her. Then Ampleforth suddenly asked, “I say, old chap, did you ever capture the miscreant who shot you?”
“No, we have not,” Freddie replied. “He came close to killing Thea, and murdered one of our footmen.”
Thea strolled on a few steps before she realized that Freddie and the Baron had stopped walking across the entryway toward the drawing room. Turning around, she found the blood in Ampleforth’s face had drained completely away. He appeared as pale as a ghost, his blue eyes widened with stunned surprise, his jaw slack. His lips opened and closed without any words forming.
“What did you say?” he finally managed, switching his gaze from Freddie to Thea and back again.
Freddie strode the few steps back to him. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Thea went out riding and he shot at her with a blunderbuss. He missed her, but pulled a pistol and killed one of her attending footmen before escaping.”
“My God.”
To Thea, it appeared as though the Baron might faint. She caught Freddie’s confused eyes before Freddie gestured for the Baron to continue to the drawing room. “You look as though you need a stiff whiskey,” Freddie said.
The Baron started forward again, but Thea suspected he might not realize where he planted his feet. “Yes,” he murmured, his face down. “Yes, of course.”
As the Baron continued on, footmen bowing and opening the drawing room’s doors for him, Freddie exchanged another confused glance with Thea. Then he shrugged without speaking and followed his friend. Thea watched as the doors closed behind both men before drifting toward the stairway again. “What was that all about?” she muttered to herself, climbing up to her rooms.
She dared not ask Liam his opinion of the Baron’s odd behavior, as there were too many other servants around who might overhear. Yet, before she entered her chambers, her hand on the handle, she met his eyes for a moment. He offered her the tiniest shake of his head, telling her without words that he had no explanation, either. Nodding to Felicity’s curtsey, Thea went into her bedroom and lay down on the bed, her injured arm nestled on a pillow.