If He's Noble (Wherlocke #7)

No more would she be just Rufford’s wife, his supplicant. Nor would she be relegated to just planning the dinner or making certain the maids did their work. A baroness was not very high in the ranks but high enough, far higher than the wife of a mere second son of a baron. It would be what she would make of it and she had plans to make it a power to be reckoned with.

Her first mistake had been to marry the wrong man. She had chosen the heir but before she could get him to the altar he had met that pale, skinny Miriam and married her. It was love, he had told her, and Augusta growled. So she had turned her attention on the younger son. Heirs did die on a regular basis, she had thought. The old baron had died before she had felt compelled to nudge him along but his heir had proven a very lucky man, or a very smart one, and her success had almost come too late to save herself from her husband’s follies. Now she just had Miriam’s brats to be rid of and she wondered yet again why she had not been more forthright in getting rid of them years ago.

“M’lady?”

Augusta glared at the man as if he had interrupted some important plan. “Who is watching us?”

“Those Wherlockes the big feller went to visit.”

“Wherlockes?” said Jenson, who then fought to hide his alarm when both Carl and his mistress turned to stare at him.

“Do you know of them?” asked Augusta.

“They are often the subject of gossip. I have, in my years as a valet, met some of their valets and butlers. Fine men and usually had the odd name of Pugh or the very common one of Jones.”

“Jenson, I realize the servants would be of interest to you but they are not to me. Who are the Wherlockes?”

“A very large family. Male children are the usual so some have actually made some very good marriages because of that. Lords needing to build their stock of heirs marry off a daughter to one of them if they can. Very closely bound, m’lady. Stand by and behind every single member of their family. I believe some of that may come from a past strewn with witch hunts and persecutions but also because there appears to be a tendency for parents to leave their children.”

“I suspect a lot of people think on doing that but you say these Wherlockes actually do it?”

“They do not do it, the one they married does. Because they cannot abide what the Wherlockes are said to be and how that has come out in the child they bred.”

“Jenson, just tell us. Be blunt, you old fool.”

“It is believed by many that the Wherlockes and the other half of their family, the Vaughns, are cursed, witches, creatures of the devil, and other such nonsense. They appear to be gifted.” Seeing how both Carl and Augusta were frowning at him, Jenson added, “Some can see the future, some can see ghosts, and such as that. Gifted.”

“Nonsense.” Augusta sipped her tea and studied Carl. “Is that why your men did not silence that girl we spoke with the other day. Was she gifted?”

“I was not here, m’lady. But the ones watching us do have some skill. I would not have even seen them if not for some drunken fool bellowing a greeting to one of them.”

“They live near here; just because one has come into the village does not mean he is following us.”

“It appears several families of them have come into the village, m’lady. Everywhere we turn, there is one of them. Not all adults, either. Last one I nearly tripped over as I walked away from where another stood was a little girl. She would not move and so I pushed her aside. Little brat fell down and started screeching so I ran.”

“And just how did you get wet?”

“It rained.”

“I noticed no rain and you are in the same village as I am.”

“It rained on me, m’lady.”

“Just on you.”

“I know it sounds mad, but, aye, just on me.”

“I see,” she said in a tone that made it clear she thought him an idiot. “Well, go on with your story.”

“When I moved on as quick as can be without actually running, a whole swarm of them gathered round her and some followed me. Went into the public house to tell my lads what to watch for and there were a few in there, sitting at the table right next to our men.”

“Having an ale, no doubt. How very suspicious.”

Carl shook his head. “M’lady, I been what you hired for a long time and I know right well when I’m being watched. That is what is happening here and they are nay even trying to hide it.”

“If you insist, we will leave as soon as I finish my meal. Go on and tell the others.”

After he was gone, Augusta watched Jenson. The man was becoming rebellious in that way upper servants did. All polite talk, the barbs so carefully hidden one did not always know what had been said to make the one who got slapped by the barb wince and back away. It might be time to remind him, yet again, of what the cost would be if he got too rebellious.