Roses in Moonlight

chapter 16





Derrick walked up the steps to the castle, wondering how many staff he would have to go through before he encountered the earl himself. At least he was coming in the front door this time instead of picking a lock on one of the side doors, disarming the alarm system, then breaking into Epworth’s inner sanctum. This was, he had to admit, much more pleasant.

He glanced at Samantha walking next to him and suppressed a smile. She definitely needed to get out more. He wasn’t sure she was going to be able to wipe the look of astonishment off her face anytime soon.

“Weren’t you here recently?” he asked politely.

“I was,” she managed, still gaping at the house in front of her. “Not that you’d know.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it was Oliver who followed me.” She looked at him then. “I can’t imagine you own green shoes.”

He started to speak, then laughed a little. “You’re very observant.”

“Occupational hazard.” She looked up at the palatial country house in front of them. “And last time I didn’t get in the house. Just the gardens.”

“Well, if we have time, we’ll do both. I’m sure Lord Epworth will be so pleased, he’ll give us access to anything we want.”

She took a deep breath, then looked at him. He was slightly surprised to find she wasn’t so much gobsmacked as she was uneasy.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Are you sure he won’t throw me in jail?”

“You are directly responsible for rescuing his lace from under a planter,” Derrick said easily. “We’ll just spare him the details of where that planter was or how the lace got under it in the first place. You’re safe.”

She looked up at him. “You don’t really believe in time travel, do you?”

He smiled and paused in front of the door. “We’re here. Let’s see if they let us in.”

“I think it was all just a big delusion,” she said. “Maybe those mushrooms were giving off hallucinatory vapors we didn’t notice.”

“Believe that, if it makes you feel better,” he said cheerfully, then lifted his hand to knock. Before he could, the door was opened and Lord Epworth’s social secretary stood there.

“Oh, Mr. Cameron,” he said, looking as nervous as if he fully expected the axe to fall on his neck at any moment. “I hope you have news. His Lordship is beside himself.”

“Not to worry, Mr. Stevens,” Derrick said. “I think we have very good news indeed.” He gestured toward Samantha. “This is Miss Samantha Drummond. She is someone I believe His Lordship will be very happy to meet.”

Stevens’s look of unease didn’t abate much, but perhaps at the moment any movement away from a nervous breakdown was a good thing. Derrick ushered Samantha inside before him, then walked into the hall and tried not to sigh. It wasn’t a sign of envy because he had his own spot to land when he finally managed it and it suited him perfectly. He also wasn’t unacquainted with places of grandeur and splendor. But the house they were in was truly exceptional. He might have actually indulged in a bit of envy if he hadn’t known what it cost Cameron in worry to keep his own castle out of the hands of the tax man. He didn’t envy Lord Epworth that worry multiplied by the number of rooms and the prime location.

“Let me see to your things,” Stevens said, motioning for staff to come collect Samantha’s wee suitcase and both their backpacks. “If you’ll follow me?”

Derrick surrendered their gear without worry, then nodded and walked with Samantha behind Lord Epworth’s secretary.

“This is amazing,” Samantha said, staring up at the ceiling.

“It is,” he agreed.

“And that was a pretty good client voice you just used.”

He smiled in spite of himself. “I only trot it out on special occasions.”

She looked at him. “I hope he’ll be happy.”

“I think he’ll be thrilled.”

They were led into the earl’s private study, or rather, Lord Epworth himself opened the door at the knock and welcomed them inside. He didn’t look quite as uneasy as his secretary, but close.

He insisted on introductions before business, which almost made Derrick smile. Good manners, in his experience, generally won out over interest in possessions among those whose company he didn’t mind keeping.

They were invited to join the earl in front of a fireplace that was somehow unsettling for its emptiness. Derrick shook off the impression with difficulty. After all, things were going his way. He’d recovered the missing lace. The embroidery had been delivered without difficulty and neither he nor Oliver had seen any thugs on the trip north. He was planning to return to London, get Samantha on a plane, then do a little snooping of his own into the activities of the Cookes. What could possibly be wrong?

Well, he was getting ready to send Samantha Drummond out of his life, but that surely shouldn’t have bothered him any.

He listened to her make small talk with Lord Epworth about his roses. She was obviously used to flattering crusty old keepers of special collections because she charmed him without an effort. Derrick supposed that had little to do with her change in wardrobe, though sending her polyester with Emily for deposit at the local charity shop had surely been liberating. Perhaps it was that brush with Elizabethan England that had changed her.

Or perhaps it was just that instead of looking at her as a thief, he was looking at her as a woman.

“Historic textiles?” Lord Epworth asked, his ears perking up. “What a fascinating subject.” He paused, then frowned. “There is a woman from the States who specializes, I believe, in Victorian antiquities—”

“Louise McKinnon?”

He smiled. “Yes, that is whom I’m thinking of. I have one of her books on Victorian silver that I found fascinating.” He looked at her closely. “A relative?”

“My mother.”

“Of course, I should have realized the connection. Are you an aficionado of all things Victorian as well?”

Samantha shook her head. “I prefer things of an earlier vintage, actually, and I’m not overly fond of silver.”

“I have a very large collection of textiles you might be interested in, then,” Lord Epworth said. “Perhaps you’ll indulge an old man his pride in his treasures and come have a look when we’re finished with our business here.”

“I would love to,” Samantha said. “I understand you have a very large collection of remarkable things.”

Derrick could see Lord Epworth’s distress, but he knew the man fairly well and knew what to look for. The old man smiled, though that perhaps cost him quite a bit.

“Well, it’s less than it was, but I have great hopes that Mr. Cameron has some news for me that will eventually remedy that.”

Derrick had spent a good part of the train ride north trying to convince Samantha to be the one to hand over the lace, but she had consistently refused. He hadn’t been willing to argue with her, so he had finally agreed to do the deed himself if she would keep the lace safe in her messenger bag once they reached the castle. He looked at her, then accepted the lace that had been wrapped carefully and placed inside archival plastic. He handed it over without comment.

Lord Epworth took it, closed his eyes briefly, then looked at him. “Is it whole?”

“Yes, Your Lordship.”

Lord Epworth bowed his head. He finally took a deep breath and looked up. “How?”

Derrick nodded toward Samantha. “She had it slipped to her without her knowledge, discovered what she had, then had the good sense to hide it until we could safely retrieve it and return it to you.”

Lord Epworth reached for Samantha’s hands and held them briefly. “I don’t know how to thank you—”

“Oh, I think Derrick is being too kind—”

“No, I’m sure he isn’t—”

“Well—”

Derrick listened to them fall over each other verbally for several moments whilst Lord Epworth was in raptures over his recovered treasure and Samantha was trying not to take any credit for its return. He himself simply sat back and let them have at it.

“And you were house-sitting for this couple,” Lord Epworth said finally, in disbelief. “Do you care to identify them?”

Samantha looked Derrick’s way. “Do I?”

Derrick leaned forward. “An investigation won’t be forthcoming, so perhaps it’s best to simply suggest you don’t have any more house parties with actors for another few weeks.”

There was a reason the man still had his house and all his property. It took him less than a minute to mentally run down his guest lists and apparently narrow it down to the appropriate suspects. He looked at Samantha.

“And you were working for this couple that we won’t name.”

“My brother Gavin knows them,” she said helplessly. “I don’t think he has any idea who they really are. I certainly didn’t have any reason to be suspicious of them.”

“Well,” Lord Epworth said, “you certainly can’t go back there now. Let’s go put the lace where it belongs, then we’ll discuss a few things.” He rose. “Come with me, friends, and we’ll examine my new security system.”

Derrick smiled to himself as he walked behind Lord Epworth and Samantha down the long hallways toward the earl’s sanctuary. He paused with Samantha for a moment whilst the earl stepped aside and spoke briefly with his secretary, then smiled to himself as Lord Epworth offered Samantha his arm and escorted her the rest of the way.

Derrick had been there in that inner sanctum more than once, but still he felt the pull of things that hadn’t been created in the current century. He looked at Samantha to see if she would put her foot down and announce that she wanted nothing to do with anything of a vintage nature.

She was pulling on curator gloves right along with His Lordship.

Derrick declined a pair, content to simply watch the other two enter the fray.

In time, he found a chair and helped himself to it. His shoulder was substantially better thanks to Sunny’s miraculous concoctions of herbs, but he was more tired than he cared to be. It was actually rather lovely to simply close his eyes and know that he wasn’t responsible for the safety of either himself or anyone he cared about, however temporarily.

Not that he cared about Samantha Drummond, of course. If he were to choose a woman to be fond of, he certainly wouldn’t have chosen her. He wasn’t moved by her ability to charm and delight an old man who loved antiquities. He definitely wasn’t ready to become fond of her because of her laugh that sounded as if she honestly hadn’t used it all that often and wasn’t quite sure how it might come across. He was not interested in a woman who couldn’t seem to stop fingering cashmere, or who had spent more time than necessary promising him she would repay him, and who had simply looked at him, mute, when he’d assured her for the dozenth time that repayment wasn’t necessary.

He wondered what her life had been like as a slave to her mother.

He knew he shouldn’t have been wondering, but since the odds of seeing her again were virtually zero, perhaps he was safe.

He realized that at some point he had dozed only because he woke with a stiff neck. Lord Epworth and Samantha were still going strong, discussing the intricacies of Elizabethan lace making. He remained still, not wanting to disturb them whilst they were having such a wonderful time.

They had apparently put the missing lace back in its place of honor, but examining the other pieces to their satisfaction took a bit of time. Derrick watched as gloves were finally stripped off and final niceties engaged in.

“You’ll stay for supper, of course,” Lord Epworth said. “And I’ll have my housekeeper make up a pair of rooms for you. I have appointments this afternoon, but perhaps you can amuse yourself on the grounds until supper. Ah, Derrick, you’ve rejoined us.”

Derrick heaved himself to his feet, swayed slightly, then caught himself. “Forgive me, Your Lordship,” he said politely. “It has been a longish week.”

The earl offered Samantha his arm. “Let’s return to my office briefly and see to matters of business, then I’ll set you free for the afternoon.”

Derrick frowned thoughtfully as he followed them. Perhaps he was less functional than he thought or Lord Epworth more grateful than usual, because it was always Stevens who took care of the more pedestrian matters of payment. Besides, he usually billed his clients after the fact, not at the moment.

Eventually he sat down with Samantha across a desk from the earl, then realized Lord Epworth had no intentions of talking to him. He had the feeling he knew what was coming, so he simply sat back and watched, trying not to smile.

“Now, of course Derrick has his very reasonable fee,” Lord Epworth said, “which I have willingly paid several times in the past. You see, my dear, he has a very good eye for precious things.”

“Does he?” Samantha asked. “I haven’t known him very long, but he does seem to be very good at what he does.”

“He is. Now, there is, of course, the reward attached to the finding of the lace,” Lord Epworth said, “which is separate from the nominal fee charged by Cameron Antiquities, Ltd.”

Nominal was, of course, understating things badly, because their fees never had been and never would be cheap. Cameron always said that half the respect they earned came from the staggering sums they charged, and Derrick had never disagreed. Lord Epworth was perhaps being fair by paying him for having tracked down the lace, though in all honesty, it had been Samantha to keep it safe. The money should have likely gone straight to her. Then again, if the man was going to pay her a reward that he was obviously inventing on the spot, so be it. Derrick had no intentions of spoiling it for either of them.

Lord Epworth reached for a piece of paper, examined it carefully, signed it, then folded it and placed it in an envelope. He held that envelope out, waiting steadily until Samantha took it.

“What’s this?” she asked in surprise.

“Your reward, my dear. Of course I wasn’t sure if you would have had time to set up any sort of account here so if you’ll be so good as to provide me with your bank details, I’ll have my secretary see to the transfer of funds. This is just to let you know what will be wired within the hour.”

Samantha was looking at the man as if she had never heard of bank details before. “But—”

“I hope it will suit,” Lord Epworth said, looking quite pleased with himself. “Just a small token of my gratitude, of course.”

“Ah,” Samantha managed, “I would have to call my parents—”

“Why trouble them when we have Derrick sitting right there?” Lord Epworth looked at him. “Shall I time you?”

Derrick smiled. “My lord, your faith in my abilities is, as always, humbling.”

Lord Epworth laughed, sounding thoroughly delighted. “My boy, I’m afraid the extent of your abilities continues to unnerve me, but in this case I’m happy to see you use them for the benefit of this delightful girl sitting next to you. Samantha, whilst Derrick is about his work, perhaps you would care to join me at the window. I’ll point out the more notable features of the garden. Perhaps you would enjoy a stroll there this afternoon?”

Derrick smiled to himself as His Lordship checked his watch, then sent him a pointed glance. The game was afoot.

It took him ten minutes only because he kept being distracted by the lovely sight of one of his favorite gentlemen being so kind to a woman who was being just as kind in return. He borrowed a piece of paper, wrote down what Epworth’s secretary would need, then accepted compliments on his ability to do things with his phone Lord Epworth didn’t want details on.

“Now,” His Lordship said with a happy smile, “perhaps you two would care to wander through the gardens or amuse yourself in the house. I’ve assigned a member of my staff to attend you, should you require anything. We’ll meet again for supper, shall we?”

Derrick agreed that they would, took Samantha by the elbow, walked with her toward the door. She was clutching her envelope as if she feared it might take flight if she didn’t hold on to it tightly enough. He let her proceed in front of him, then paused and looked at Lord Epworth.

“Very generous, my lord.”

Lord Epworth patted him on the shoulder. “It is my favorite piece of lace.”

Derrick hesitated, then cast caution to the wind. “You could put my fee in her account, you know.”

“Oh, I fully intend to.” Lord Epworth smiled. “You, my boy, have a tender heart and too much money, so I thought you wouldn’t mind.” He nodded toward Samantha. “She’s quite lovely. I’m not sure how she’ll manage to stay in the country, but I don’t think she wants to leave.” He shook his head. “Those Cooke people. Very poor form, what?”

“Extremely.”

“But all’s well now that the lace is where it belongs, yes?”

Derrick had no trouble understanding what he was getting at. “It was recovered very discreetly, my lord. Perhaps we should leave it at that.”

Lord Epworth nodded, shook his hand, then waited until Derrick had left the office before he shut the door. Derrick joined Samantha in the hallway and looked at her.

“Well?”

“I don’t dare open this here,” she said, looking stunned.

“Perhaps not, but we might have some privacy in the garden.” He looked at her. “Curious?”

“Queasy.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s just a token,” Derrick warned. “He does still have to keep the lights on.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t even keep his porch light on with what I have, so anything at this point is a bonus.”

“Then let’s go see what your bonus is,” he said, though he had to admit he was almost unable to keep himself from shaking his head. In disgust at her parents, as it happened.

The woman beside him wasn’t a spendthrift. He’d watched her over the course of several days and made note of her habits. He’d been bored on the train that morning, so he had, to her horror, looked up her parents’ salaries. They made ample to see to their own needs and pay her a generous salary as well, but she’d finally admitted, once he’d threatened to hack into her bank account, that they paid her in room and board. No wonder she’d worn such dowdy clothes. She’d probably been relegated to her mother’s castoffs. And now that he’d seen what her account contained, he was even more irritated with her parents. It was inexcusable.

He walked with her out into the garden, thanked their escort and promised to call the mobile number on the card if they needed assistance, then waited until Samantha had chosen a bench near a fountain to sit down on. He joined her, then looked at her. The sun was finding all the red in her hair again, turning it into something not at all what it looked like inside. She was currently staring at the roses on the far side of the fountain with such longing, he half wondered if she’d ever seen any before.

He half wondered several things about her, actually, beginning and ending with what might come of it if they were to begin again.

Nothing would come of it, he reminded himself firmly. She was a Yank and had a life waiting for her. He was a Scot and already had his life awaiting him. It wasn’t his fault if her life included returning to the semi-slavery of working for her mother. Maybe Lord Epworth’s money would give her a bit of a fresh start.

He rubbed his hands together. “Open the letter, woman, and let’s examine the booty.”

She smiled faintly. “You are part pirate, aren’t you?”

“I understand their fascination with shiny things,” he said dryly, “probably more thoroughly than I should.”

She held the envelope in her hands and looked at it as if she wasn’t at all sure what to do with it.

“Want me to open it for you?”

She held it out without hesitation.

“I wasn’t serious,” he said quickly. “You open it. They’re your funds.”

She took a deep breath, then with trembling hands carefully broke the seal. He watched her unfold the paper, freeze, then drop it. He picked it up and handed it back to her.

“Well?” he asked.

She laughed a little in a particularly unhinged way. “Fifty thousand pounds. He’s transferring fifty thousand pounds into my account.”

He whistled softly. “He’s very grateful. What are the details?”

“I hadn’t dared look at those.” She scanned the page, then her mouth fell open. “He gave me your fee—but he can’t do that.”

“I didn’t find the lace; you did,” Derrick said seriously. “Of course you should have it.”

She looked at him quickly. “But I couldn’t take it.”

“Well, don’t look at me,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m not about to pull it out of your account.”

“But you need to eat, too.”

He didn’t suppose the moment had come to tell her that he had a cool £50 million sitting partly in Switzerland and partly in other places, and that was just his fallback savings. He had triple that in other investments. The sensation of having someone worry about how he would feed himself was so novel, he thought he might like to enjoy it a bit.

“You can buy me breakfast tomorrow.”

“I can’t—”

“Buy me breakfast?”

“I can’t take your money!” She clapped her hand over her mouth, then looked at him, wide-eyed. “Sorry. I’m not usually a shouter.”

“I think, Miss Drummond, that if anyone had cause to shout, at the moment, it’s you.” He smiled. “Think you can sketch some roses now?”

“I think I can have a nervous breakdown now.” She looked at him and her eyes were full of tears. “I can’t take this.”

He didn’t think his shoulder would hold up to putting his arm around her, so he settled for patting her back. “Samantha, you’ll offend him if you don’t take it. Truly.”

“But maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“You’ll really offend him if you tell him that.” He pointed at the symbol drawn next to the ledger entry that gave her Cameron Antiquities’s fee. “That wasn’t drawn by a man not in his right mind.”

“It’s a smiley face.”

“It’s a smirky face. There’s a difference. I think he suspects I may have caused you grief.”

“You’re paying handsomely for the privilege.”

“Happily,” he said, quite happily. “Now, hand me a page from your sketchbook and a pencil, if you would, and let’s see who draws the better rose.” He shot her a look. “Unless you’re afraid.”

She wasn’t smiling. “I’m always afraid.”

He felt his smile fade. “And that, Samantha Drummond, is something you should rethink. You outlasted thugs, braved Elizabethan England, and kept me from dying—”

“Sunny kept you from dying.”

“You kept me from drowning in drool,” he said dryly. “And you also held my nose while she poured her foul brew down my throat. Just think about that. I could have bitten your fingers off.”

“You were supposed to be unconscious.”

“That damned stuff she makes could leave a corpse sitting up in protest,” he grumbled, then he shot her a smile. “Don’t be afraid anymore. You have buckets of money in the bank and your whole life ahead of you. What have you to be afraid of?”

She took a deep breath. “I am afraid,” she said slowly, “that I won’t be good at what I really want to do.”

It was amazing, he thought, how it was possible to be sitting in a lovely garden on a not-uncomfortable bench and feel as if one had just been kicked in the stomach by an enthusiastic young stallion. Goat, horse, yob: he wasn’t sure what species had almost knocked him off his perch. He supposed it didn’t matter. All he knew was that he understood how she felt. He had faced that fear with all the bravado of a young man and . . .

Well, not even a matched set of wild horses would induce him to discuss the details.

“I am not the one to give advice,” he said grimly, “but I don’t think art has to be perfect. We could try something easier than roses. Look, there are a few topiaries over there. I think I might manage the one that looks like a hedge.”

“That is a hedge.”

“Fancy that.”

She looked at him. “You’re nuts.”

“Quite probably,” he agreed. “Let’s go examine the fauna more closely and see what we can manage of it.”

She blinked rapidly a time or two, then nodded. She put the paper back into the envelope and the envelope back into her bag. Derrick supposed he wouldn’t need to thank the earl, but he likely would drop him a note later, because he had decent manners in spite of himself. The man had been very generous. He could have called it good at half that and simply counted it as Derrick’s fee.

It was, he had to admit, somewhat reassuring to know there was still some good to be found in the world.