“You kidnapped her!”
“Aye, we did,” Sam replied in that same resigned tone. “Got mouths to feed at home, don’t we? ’Spect God’ll see fit to forgive me that too.”
“Some of those mouths be wives,” the first man commented pointedly.
“And daughters,” Sam added, “and sisters.”
“Nieces.”
“Got a grandbaby on the way, might be a girl—”
“Yes, I get it! For the love of God, where does he find you people? I can’t decide if you’re mad or merely stupid!”
Two sets of eyes narrowed at that comment, but the portly man was too intent on his own anger to notice the danger he was in. “It’s a damned good thing Heransly had the foresight to hire another set of men!” he yelled. “They’ll have no trouble cleaning up the job you two idiots—”
“Don’t seem right he set competition on us, does it, Sam?” the first man asked quietly.
“Not right at all,” Sam replied.
The first man began cracking his knuckles. “Someone might ’ave gotten ’urt in the mix-up, eh Sam?”
Sam rolled his shoulders. “Aye, they could have.”
The first man clenched and unclenched his hands. “Seems like backstabbing to me.”
Sam twisted his neck from side to side, effectively emitting a loud popping noise. “Aye, and me.”
The portly man watched the antics of the two ruffians with dawning apprehension. Perhaps he had been a little free with his comments. That happened on occasion when he’d had too much to drink. He gulped nervously and eyed the distance to the door. “Remember your immortal soul, Sam,” he croaked. “What would the good Lord think?”
“Expect he’ll understand,” was Sam’s only reply.
Whitefield was deserted. Sophie wasn’t surprised to find the old manor house devoid of residents, but it was disturbing to see that it had been stripped of most of its contents. No doubt her cousin had sold everything of value. She wondered about the tenants. She knew some worked the land. The estate was highly profitable, but who did they look to for guidance, or in time of need? She hated to think what state their homes might be in. She couldn’t imagine Lord Loudor was a generous or responsible master.
Sophie wandered the halls and rooms in a kind of stupor. There were so many memories, so many of them lost to her until now…. The nursery where she and Lizzie had done their best to torment their first nanny, that priggish Mrs. Carlisle. And the orangery where her mother could most often be found in her spare time, lovingly tending her myriad roses and orchids. Sophie smiled fondly at the memory. For all the enjoyment her mother took in the work, she had never been a particularly adept gardener. More than once, her father had replaced dead or dying plants in secret to avoid seeing his wife disappointed.
And Sophie had forgotten that window seat in the library, where she and Lizzie used to sit for hours, curled up in blankets on cold winter days, reading to each other, speaking of their plans for the future. Lizzie was going to marry a foreign prince and spend her time writing scandalous novels. Often they would just sit in comfortable silence watching the snow fall, needing no words to communicate their happiness.
“Is it difficult to return after so long an absence?” Alex asked, coming up behind her with an armful of blankets and pillows.
She turned away from the window. “A little,” she replied. “But I’m not sorry to be here. Where did you find those?”
“The beds are gone, but the linen closets are still intact,” he answered. “I noticed there are quite a few candles left in the dining room, and a positively enormous table.”
“A gift from King George,” she explained, following him out of the library. “I suppose its regal origin wasn’t incentive enough to convince a buyer to invest in the cost of its removal.”
Alex set down his burden a little way from the dining room fireplace, and arranged the blankets into a makeshift bed. “This fireplace is the only one in the house that looks reasonably clean,” he explained. “I doubt we’ll need it, but one never knows, and I’d hate to have gotten this far only to burn Whitefield down around our heads.”
“Especially after all the work I’ve put into saving it,” Sophie muttered to herself as she began to light the candles randomly about the room. The sun had already set, and she wanted the place well lit before night set in.
Alex walked to the windows and began pulling the curtains closed to keep the light from announcing their presence to the outside world.
“After we’re married,” he commented offhandedly, “I assume you’ll want to spend some time here, refurbishing, getting to know the tenants, that sort of thing.”
Sophie stared at him with a kind of awe. “You are, without doubt, the most tenacious human being I have ever met.”