Page 31 of Every Duke Has His Thorn
He took a long swallow of his brandy.
His aunt continued, “She appeared nonplussed when I mentioned her grandmother.”
“She and her father are estranged from her mother’s family,” he replied gravely.
“I had heard the woman was disinherited.”
“Then why would you mention the grandmother?” he asked with a frown.
His aunt raised a brow. “Are you rebuking me, nephew?”
The lady now studied him as closely as she had the architect and his daughter.
“Was your sole purpose in coming to Barton Hall to stir up everyone’s past?” He got to his feet and strode from the room, brandy snifter in hand.
Preston was in his makeshift bedchamber before he realized he still had the brandy in hand. No matter. He swallowed the remainder of the liquor. What would his aunt make of his behavior? He would deal with the repercussions for his outburst on the morrow.
Miss Davies had been upset at the mention of her grandmother, and he’d not liked seeing her unsettled. He’d felt oddly protective of the woman, a feeling that startled him. Perhaps that is why he’d barked at his aunt.
As much as he could use another brandy, he wasn’t going to fetch a bottle of spirits with his aunt still in the drawing room. He’d said enough. There was a stack of books on his bedside table. He hoped reading would occupy his mind until he was tired enough to sink into sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
The next day after breakfast, Marina took a walk along the gravel path behind the dower house. The track led to a stone folly built to resemble an ancient Greek temple in ruins.
The path, lined with beech and oak trees, provided ample shade for her ramble. Numerous starlings chattered to her as she walked along, lost in her thoughts. The track ended at the folly, and a small pond was visible behind the ruins.
She heard a rustling noise and was momentarily startled by a man moving through the trees behind the pond. He wore a cap pulled down over his ears and a coat with the collar pulled up. She thought it strange to see someone wearing a coat in such warm weather.
“Good morning, Miss Davies.”
Lady Barton stepped out from behind a column of the folly.
“My lady! You startled me.” Marina took a breath and asked, “Did you see the man walking through the woods behind you?”
“Just a glimpse. I wouldn’t think the workmen would be out here so far away from the house.” Lady Barton skirted the pond and came to stand near Marina.
“Should we mention the man to His Grace?”
The lady nodded. “I will be sure to do so. The housekeeper told me someone was sleeping in one of the cupboards in the house. Perhaps we have a vagrant on the estate.”
“My father mentioned an unwanted guest. He told me the closet is now locked at night, and a footman patrols the ground floor.”
“Thank goodness my nephew is taking precautions to keep strangers from sleeping in Barton Hall,” Lady Barton replied.
Marina wondered if the man they’d just seen might be the person that had slept in the cupboard. Could the same person have taken food from the servant’s dining room? Anne had also mentioned a pie going missing while it cooled in the dower house kitchen.
“I hope I did not discomfort you overly much last evening when I spoke of your grandmother,” the lady next said, peering at Marina’s face under her bonnet.
“It is quite all right.” Her words, while respectful, were clipped. She looked away, not feeling the need to fill the awkward silence.
“Your father is doing a splendid job on the restoration of the hall. Preston is very pleased. I grew up here, you know.”
Her curiosity outweighed any awkwardness she felt speaking to the woman so she asked, “Does a pink ribbon have any great significance to Barton Hall?”
“Most definitely!” Lady Barton added proudly, “My grandmother was painted by Thomas Gainsborough, quite a coup for the family. The painting is known as Portrait of a Lady in Nature, but the family always referred to the picture as ‘the lady with the pink ribbon.’”
Marina felt excitement well up inside of her. She was nearly speechless.
