At length, Daylily set aside her work. “I hear tell there is a monster in these parts.”
Leo startled at her words, then turned to glare furiously at his cousin. “What did you tell her?” he growled.
Foxbrush raised his textbook like a shield. “I didn’t breathe a word! You’re the one with the obsession.”
“Mind your own business!”
“I will, as I always have,” Foxbrush retorted. They continued to glare at each other, though perhaps Foxbrush sank a little behind his tome.
Daylily eyed the two with a quizzically raised brow. In that moment, how she missed the elegant young men with whom she was accustomed to passing her days. What had her father’s fool Plan brought her to?
“Well,” she said, tapping a finger on the arm of her chair, “is there or isn’t there?”
“What?” Leo asked.
“A monster?”
“No,” said Leo.
“No,” said Foxbrush.
But their tones implied otherwise.
Daylily sighed. This was going to be the longest summer of her existence, but at least she could make the most of it. She rose from her chair, arranged her skirts, and gave the lads a deceptively placid look. “Shall we, then?”
Leo narrowed his eyes. “Shall we what?”
“Hunt the monster?” She stepped from the room.
Leo and his cousin stared at the door through which she’d just gone, stared at each other, then broke and bolted at the same time, calling after her as they went. “Lady Daylily, wait!” She was halfway down the stairway when they caught up with her, both of them out of breath, and Foxbrush’s oiled hair standing up in a most unnatural manner.
“Lady Daylily,” said Foxbrush, leaping ahead of her and putting an arm on the stair rail to bar her way, “you really mustn’t.”
“Why mustn’t I?”
“It’s not right for a lady of your station to wander in the forest alone,” said Leo.
“I don’t intend to go alone,” she replied. “I intend for you to accompany me.”
“But we told you,” Foxbrush insisted, “there is no monster. And you shouldn’t hunt it.”
“I have hunted foxes many a time,” said she with a quick dart from her eyes that sent Foxbrush down an extra step or two. She was very beautiful indeed when angry, and her eyes were very blue. “I think I can hunt an imaginary monster without mishap.”
“You’ll dirty your dress,” said Leo.
The look she gave him was withering. “I am not some dainty flower. I can suffer a little dirt.”
She pushed past them both, heedless of their cries, grabbed a bonnet from its place near the door, and paused a moment to tie it on. Here, Foxbrush gave Leo a last desperate glance, then blurted, “They’re under orders to not let Leo out of their sight.”
So the secret was out. Leo felt his heart sink before leaping back into place, racing double time. He was a prisoner, was he? No wonder the atmosphere at Hill House was altered! This was his mother’s doing, no doubt. Starflower wasn’t about to let her young colt kick up his heels without ramming a bit of some sort between his teeth. Leo swore under his breath.
Daylily’s face remained calm as ever. She finished tying her bonnet, then swept down a side passage, the two lads trailing behind her to the kitchens, where Redbird worked and Leanbear took his ease with a cup of tea. They both looked up in surprise when Daylily entered the room. The beautiful baron’s daughter had scarcely given any of the household staff a glance since arriving; even her servant considered herself too good for those who lived at Hill House.
Yet there Daylily stood, her hair very red, her gown very green, and Redbird had to agree that she was far too fine a lady to be standing in Hill House’s kitchen.
“I am going for a walk up the mountain,” Daylily declared before Leanbear had the chance to scramble to his feet. “These two will accompany me.”
There could be no gainsaying her wishes. Redbird curtsied and said that dinner was at six, but that was all the say she had in the matter. Daylily was gone and the two boys with her.
So maybe pretty girls were worth more than he had first thought, Leo considered as he followed Daylily through the gardens and out the garden gate. The path up the mountain was exactly as he remembered it, but it took on a whole new aura with Daylily marching up it, as purposeful as a queen; not to mention Foxbrush, perspiring a few steps after her.
It would be all right, Leo told himself as he lagged a little behind them both. Daylily knew nothing about this mountain. She would lead them on a long march up the path, eventually realize that she wasn’t going to find anything, and turn around once more. This thought brought him comfort, for despite his pleasure at being at last beyond the garden wall, Leo found that he had no desire to pursue that old monster-hunting game of his.
He did not want anyone else to hunt it either.