On the evening of the next day, Arthur arrived at the Wallace residence as promised. He had stayed away to give Cleo time to process her father’s letter and to get some much-needed sleep, but it had not been easy to keep his distance after they had both professed their love for one another the day before. It had taken a great deal of restraint not to go straight over to her house the moment that he had awakened.
Arthur had spent much of the night in the guestroom of his friend Jacob’s house, pondering over every element of every riddle to ensure that they had not missed anything. He was fairly certain that the references to fire and light in the runic code were the keys to reading the parchment papers that contained the professor’s farewell message. There had been other papers in the room, but when heated had shown nothing at all. Arthur assumed that they must have been placed there as decoys for the real message.
Henry, ye were a wilier fellow than even I gave ye credit for. Ye would put a fox tae shame.
Raising his hand to knock on the door, Arthur hesitated hearing Cleo’s voice arguing with her aunt just inside. “It is my life, Aunt Caroline, and I will not be dictated to whom I may marry. I have told you repeatedly that the Earl of Dustshore and I are friends only and nothing more. He has agreed to this arrangement, and I find it inappropriate for you to continue pushing him upon me as if I had absolutely no say in the matter.”
Arthur frowned at the topic of conversation, feeling a moment of envy that Dustshore had so faithfully secured Caroline Brown’s approval while he himself was viewed as a secondary candidate. Shaking his head, aggravated by his own thoughts, Arthur knocked on the door. Mrs. McGrath opened it and greeted him with an apologetic smile. “Good evening, Yer Lordship,” greeted loud enough for the ladies in the next room to hear her. It was a hint–if Arthur had ever seen one–to behave themselves.
“Mrs. McGrath, it is a pleasure tae see ye once more, and ye looking so bonnie. Do tell me, what is yer secret?”
“Stubbornness,” the elderly cook admitted before showing him into the drawing room where Cleo and her aunt awaited him.
“Miss Wallace, Mrs. Brown,” he bowed over each of their hands, placing a gentle kiss upon the back of Cleo’s.
“Aunt Caroline has invited her own guest for this evening’s dinner,” Cleo lost no time in informing him and the look on her face told him that she was not pleased with the fact.
“I see, and might I assume that this guest is the afore mentioned Earl of Dustshore?”
Caroline Brown flushed bright red at the mention of their argument. “Indeed, it is,” she answered defensively.
“I am certain that Dustshore will charm and beguile us all,” Arthur answered graciously, in spite of the negative feelings that hung in the air between the two ladies.
“Indeed,” Caroline answered, straightening her appearance in a manner that suggested she might have just been thrown from a horse and not from having had a simple disagreement from the comfort of her own drawing room. “His Lordship never disappoints.”
Ignoring her aunt, Cleo turned her attention back to Arthur. “I have decided to take a food basket to the man who helped to clean out my father’s office at the university. You were both so kind to do that for us during our time of grief, and I wish to show him some small measure of our gratitude.”
“I have nae doubt that Mr. Virgil Standish would be most pleased by that. I would be happy tae take ye there upon the morrow,” Arthur offered, glad for an excuse to return that would not raise her aunt’s eyebrows.
“That would be lovely. Thank you.”
“O’ course, lass,” he smiled affectionately down at Cleo, resisting the urge to take her into his arms and kiss her on the mouth in front of everyone. A knock at the door interrupting any such thoughts as Mrs. McGrath scurried to admit the Earl of Dustshore.
“Ah, Irondale, this is beginning to become quite the habit, you and I running into each other like this,” Dustshore greeted as he entered, his brows raising in surprise at seeing Arthur.
“Aye, it is at that.” Arthur returned the greeting, walking over to shake Dustshore’s hand. They eyed each other, sizing up the competition, but remained civil towards one another. “And how is yer dear maither?” Arthur inquired, as they all moved to take a seat.
“She had taken an ague but is otherwise in the peak of health. Thank you for asking. And how are things at Irondale?”
“Going smoothly, we have made the necessary agricultural changes with verra little difficulty.”
“Excellent,” Dustshore nodded in approval.
The four of them made conversation until Mrs. McGrath announced that it was time to eat. Arthur stood and offered Cleo his arm, while Dustshore did the same for Caroline. Arthur wondered if Dustshore had figured out that he had lost the battle for Cleo’s affections or if the poor lad was still clinging to hope.
Arthur fought the urge to slip his arm around Cleo’s waist. He had an internal drive to protect her from everything and everyone. It was natural after everything that they had been through together, but he was fairly certain that Cleo would not have liked where his train of thought was going. She was a woman of rare spirit and intellect who firmly believed that she could take care of herself.And she can, Arthur firmly reminded himself.It would nae pay tae forget it either.
Entering the dining room, they all gathered around the table, with an Earl at each end per Caroline’s commandments and she and Cleo across from one another in the center. It was an interesting arrangement that left people who would rather not be staring at one another doing just that. Arthur could tell that Cleo was fighting the urge to frown at her aunt and her aunt was pretending not to notice the strain between them. The same was true of the two earls, both vying for the love of the indomitable Cleo Wallace.
Aye, but I have her love and he does nae, and it will remain with me nae matter what I have tae do tae make it so even if that means staring across the table at Dustshore’s face every day till Christmas.Arthur chuckled silently to himself at the thought.I believe that Cleo would go mad long afore I would with such an arrangement if her reaction to her aunt’s inviting him here is any indication. Dustshore seems a reasonable enough lad, but he is nae the one for Cleo. That unbelievable honor belongs tae me.
* * *
Cleo sat across from her aunt trying her best not to scowl at her, when she caught sight of Arthur laughing quietly to himself. She shot him a glare that said it was not funny, but it did nothing to stop him. If anything, he only laughed harder. His chest was moving in silent amusement at the entire situation. The earl who did not know that he was not wanted and the earl that knew he was but was being kept a secret. Cleo shook her head at the ridiculous nature of the entire ordeal.
The moment that I am able to tell Aunt Caroline the truth about Father’s death, and everything else that followed, will not come soon enough for my comfort. Once she realizes everything that Arthur and I have gone through together, then she will understand why I have chosen him over her longtime family friend. At least, I hope she will. Once she hears the truth about the legacy that he has left for me, whatever that might be, she may lock me in my room and throw away the key in order to better protect me.Cleo found the idea to be almost as amusing as she found it to be horrifying.
Cleo caught Arthur looking at her from the corner of her eye and turned to meet his gaze. He grinned and she blushed at the suggestive nature of it. She had taken special care with her appearance to show off her coloring to its best advantage and had worn her new glass hairpins and ivory comb to accent. Fidgeting with her napkin, Cleo lowered her gaze and pretended to be very interested in her food.
