“Well, that will be easier said than done if ye dinnae go with me at once tae the drawing room.”
“Why is that?” Arthur asked, joining the conversation in a clear attempt to ease the tension.
“The Earl o’ Dustshore is here, just arrived from his estate, apparently by yer Auntie Caroline’s invitation.”
Cleo felt her heart leap into her mouth. “What!?”
“Dustshore is here tae dine and ye did nae ken that he was coming?” Arthur asked, frowning at the unexpected interruption.
“Aye, he is, and I have nae time tae be standing here wondering if my beloved lass has gone mad with grief, and if so why ye did nae stop her, Arthur MacDonald.” All sense of decorum where Arthur was concerned had left the cook’s demeanor. Gone was the prior humility of the servant, replaced by the full force of the protective matron.
“I have not gone mad with grief. I swear it. I will reveal all to you once we have gotten rid of the Earl of Dustshore.”
“Well that is going tae be some time from now.” Mrs. McGrath appraised Cleo’s physical appearance and clearly found it wanting. “Ye are a fright. Go tae yer room and splash some water on yer face and hands. Change yer clothes and be quick about it. Yer Lordship had better come with me tae the kitchens and see if we cannae make ye a bit more presentable. Ye both looks as if ye have been rolling around in the dirt.”
Arthur and Cleo looked down at their clothes and hands in chagrin. They had not noticed that they were getting so dirty.How could we possibly have explained this to Aunt Caroline? How are we to explain it now?
Arthur, reading her thoughts spoke up. “Perhaps it would be best if I slipped out o’ the backdoor quietly and ye may give my apologies tae yer aunt as needed. I dinnae wish for our present state tae bring doubt as tae yer reputation. I was nae thinking as I should have tae protect ye and for that I am sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for in this instance. The fault is entirely mine.”
“I will return upon the morrow so that we might finish our discussion?” he asked more than stated.
“Yes, please,” Cleo nodded, sorry to see him go.
“Verra well,” Mrs. McGrath huffed. “It is probably for the best. Follow me, Yer Lordship, and I will see ye out.”
“Until the morrow,” Arthur promised, then was gone.
Cleo was left standing in the middle of her father’s study staring at the disastrous mess around her.
What am I to do now? What was Arthur about to tell me? Does he know what the runic message means? Why is the Earl of Dustshore here now? I thought that he and I had come to an understanding. What am I going to do about Aunt Caroline? How am I ever going to explain all of this to anyone?
The questions tumbled one over the other in a chaotic cacophony that she found to be quite overwhelming. It took all of her strength not to throw her hands up in the air, sit down, and surrender to the tears that still haunted her lashes.
“I will not surrender,” she whispered to the man on the wall. “I will not be defeated.” Gathering her wits, Cleo did her best to quickly dispose of the tattered wall covering that scattered the floor, then took a blanket from the nearby settee and hung it from the bookshelves that flanked the damaged wall to cover King Arthur’s likeness. She gathered the papers with the runic symbols and shoved them into one of the desk drawers, locked it, and placed the key in her pocket. Stepping out of the study, she proceeded to lock that door as well.
Cleo slipped quietly up to her room to quickly bathe and change her clothes, then with all of the dignity that she could muster, given her recent activities, she descended the stairs and entered the drawing room. The moment she stepped through the door her Aunt Caroline shot her a scathing look of disapproval. “There she is,” she announced, her tone as smooth as honey, while her eyes were shooting arrows. “So kind of you to join us, my dear.”
“My apologies, Auntie, Your Lordship. I was doing a bit of cleaning in Father’s study and did not hear your arrival.”
“Think nothing of it, Miss Wallace. I had met your aunt in the village, and she was kind enough to invite me over for dinner this evening. My apologies for disturbing your work.”
“And His Lordship?” Aunt Caroline asked eyeing the door expectantly.
“The Earl departed some time ago, but he sent his regards and apologies for his sudden departure, Auntie. He did not wish to disturb you.”
“His Lordship could never be a disturbance. I do hope that you did not do anything to frighten him away, Cleo.”
“Nay, I did no such thing. He simply wished to borrow a text from Father’s library.”
“I see,” Aunt Caroline eyed her suspiciously. “Well, if that is all...”
“It is.”
The Earl of Dustshore listened to this exchange with interest. “Irondale was here?”
“Yes, for tea,” Aunt Caroline answered, her furrowed brow smoothing with the honor of having had, not just one but two, noble guests to be counted among her acquaintance. “We are honored to have had you both for tea in recent days. I am certain that Henry would have been most grateful for your care in this our time of grief.”
