Free Love and Larceny by Regina Scott Page A

there. It was
the smallest room he had seen at Brentfield, but that wasn’t saying
much given the grand size of most of the rooms. The breakfast room
had a wall of windows facing the rising sun, which glowed on the
oval table and scroll-backed cherry wood chairs. Silver and
porcelain dishes filled with all manner of delicacies crowded the
sideboard along the opposite wall.
    “Daphne is off riding this morning,” Lady
Emily told him when he took the chair next to hers. She was the
only person in the room at the moment. Daphne’s friend wore a
coffee-colored gown that somehow suited her for all his sisters
would have protested the dark color. “But she told me you had news
to report.”
    Those brown eyes could look remarkably
piercing. But he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to share the
secrets of the passages just yet. Instead, he told Lady Emily about
the limestone.
    Immediately her eyes narrowed. “Interesting.
You must sit in on our interviews with the staff. Perhaps you’ll
see something Jamie and I miss.”
    Somehow he doubted that. Sir James had become
a Bow Street Runner of some note, though he was only a year or two
older than Wynn. The Times liked to disclose the large sums
of money the Runner earned as rewards for his investigations. Wynn
had heard rumors the man was related to a prominent aristocratic
family that refused to acknowledge him. Daphne had shared that
Emily was enamored of the fellow. Wynn would never act as harshly
as some might about the gulf in their stations, but he could not
imagine a duke’s daughter settling for an officer of the court, no
matter how well situated financially.
    But then, who was he to question love, when
he couldn’t share his feelings with Daphne?
    He could not deny, however, that Lady Emily
and Sir James made a good team as they interviewed various staff
that morning. Daphne returned in time to join him while Priscilla
and Ariadne kept the other guests busy with a game of charades in
the orangery. At the last minute, Sheridan peeled away to paste
himself next to Daphne.
    “I’m sure whatever you are doing will be much
more interesting than charades, Miss Courdebas,” he said with a
smile.
    Could Daphne hear Wynn’s teeth gritting at
the facile statement? Worse, Sheridan was attired in a fitted coat
of a stunning blue that made his very teeth sparkle. Insufferable,
that’s what he was. And while Wynn was dressed in a bottle green
coat, he rather thought his own attitude was greener, with
jealousy.
    If the staff thought it odd to be questioned
by no less than five of his lordship’s guests, they were too well
trained to remark upon it. However, the two footmen and groom who
had heard the noises seemed reticent to talk about the occasions.
Perhaps it was the presence of Mr. Harrop, their supervisor, who
stood at the back of the breakfast room, arms crossed over his
chest and eyes narrowed. Lady Emily and Sir James managed to get a
few answers, but, as the interviews wore on, Wynn could see Daphne
turning restive, foot swinging under the green sprigged muslin of
her skirts.
    “I say,” Sheridan whispered to her. “You
don’t think the house might be haunted, do you?”
    Certainly not, but as reluctantly as Lord
Brentfield had agreed to this investigation, Wynn could not see
that he would approve taking Sheridan into their confidence. Daphne
frowned at him as if unsure how to answer. Worse, the footman who
was being interviewed clamped his jaw tight as if expecting
ridicule for whatever he said.
    Mr. Harrop reacted mores strongly.
“Balderdash. There’s nothing wrong with this house a bit of
discipline wouldn’t cure.”
    The footman sunk lower in his seat.
    Lady Emily frowned at the butler.
    “Brentfield Manor is not haunted,” Wynn put
in. “But someone’s gone to some trouble to make us wonder. Noises
in the night, strangers on the steps.”
    Sheridan raised a brow. Mr. Harrop lowered
his arms.
    The footman straightened with a nod. “That’s
the right