“No,” she said in her best governess’ voice, hand falling. “I have done nothing wrong.”

  He nodded. “Very well.”

  That was it? He was willing to accept her word? How very refreshing!

  “Thank you,” she said. “I suppose we all have things in our past we would prefer to forget.”

  He stepped back. “Some more than others.”

  She found it hard to believe he could ever be anything less than honorable. It seemed to be embedded in his skin. But after his kind acceptance, she could hardly question him. Besides, she had known her father’s scandal would require her to keep him at arm’s length.

  Why did she suddenly long to pull him close?

  Chapter Seven

  On Wednesday, Abigail was in the library with Meredith, who was composing a letter to her husband, even though Abigail knew she feared it might never reach him. Abigail was ostensibly reading. She had a book, and it was open in her lap. She even turned a page on occasion. But she kept glancing at Finn, who was standing near the window. The sun had peeked out of hiding, and the light turned his eyes to gold. Even when she attempted to read, she felt his gaze lingering on her.

  Fortune kept ambling between the two of them as if she were carrying love notes. Abigail was almost annoyed when Mr. Cowls appeared in the doorway.

  “Miss Hewett and Mrs. Daring are desirous of renewing your acquaintance, your ladyship,” he intoned.

  Neither name meant anything to Abigail, but she caught herself tensing nonetheless. She had never been privy to the list of those who had invested in the Poyais scheme, only the list of those who had dared journey forth and never returned.

  “I had no idea Julia was back from Bath.” Meredith set down her quill. “By all means, Mr. Cowls, show her and Mrs. Daring to the withdrawing room. We will join them shortly.”

  “Very good, your ladyship.”

  As he left them, Meredith rose, her lavender skirts swinging. She seemed attached to the color, which closely matched her eyes, for Abigail had yet to see her wear any other. Today it was a charming wool gown with a white tucker that had a high, ruffled collar.

  “These people are well known to you?” Finn asked, pushing off from the wall to accompany them toward the door.

  “Very well known,” Meredith assured him. “Julia’s parents moved into the area when she was a girl, but she grew up here.” She glanced at Abigail. “I think you will enjoy her company. She is about your age, has her own opinions, and is not overly demur about sharing them.”

  Someone her age, who had lived all her life in Surrey, would surely be safe. “I look forward to meeting her,” Abigail said.

  Finn must have felt equally comfortable, for he allowed Meredith and Abigail to precede him through the door into the withdrawing room. He then took up a position in the corner, where he could see through the door and the wide windows overlooking the garden. Surely he didn’t think anyone would scale the wall in broad daylight to accost them!

  Miss Hewett cast him a quick, curious glance before turning her attention to Meredith. She had fiery red hair carefully confined under a jaunty straw hat and brown eyes that sparkled, as if she were planning mischief. Abigail wasn’t surprised when Fortune promptly hopped up onto her fashionable spruce-colored skirts and made herself at home.

  “Lady Belfort!” she declared, “and dear Fortune! How delightful to have you with us again.”

  “And how delightful to see you,” Meredith assured her, “and you as well, Mrs. Daring.

  The young lady’s companion was small and thin, with flyaway white hair that was already coming free of its pins and puckered blue eyes that tended to blink. Her tiny hands fluttered in front of her grey pelisse, as if she wasn’t sure whether to take it off or hug it close in protection.

  “You are too kind,” Mrs. Daring said. A lace-edged handkerchief appeared in her hand, and she dabbed at her eyes as if quite overcome by the recognition.

  “Allow me to make you known to my companions,” Meredith said. “This is Abigail Winchester, who has graciously agreed to keep me company while my Julian is traveling. And the gentleman glowering from the corner is Mr. Finn Huber, of the Batavarian Imperial Guard.”

  Miss Hewett had smiled at Abigail, her gloved hand stroking Fortune’s fur, but at the mention of the Imperial Guard, her hand froze. “The Imperial Guards? I thought they had all decamped for home.”

  “All except four,” Meredith clarified, taking her seat. Abigail sat nearby, making sure she could see Finn. “I will be finding them positions, as they wish to stay in England.”

  Miss Hewett’s smile was strained. “Which four?”

  “Mr. Roth, Mr. Huber, Mr. Keller, and Mr. Tanner,” Abigail supplied.

  “You were at the ball the Duchess of Wey gave this summer,” Meredith added. “You may recall meeting Mr. Roth, Mr. Huber, and Mr. Keller. Mr. Tanner was at the house party as well, though he was on assignment for the prince and spent most of his time moving about the island, watching for any danger. I am merely thankful that worry has passed.”

  “And do they all attend you?” Miss Hewett asked with a glance to the door, as if she thought to spy a black, gilt-encrusted uniform any moment.

  Oh, not another one! Were all the ladies in the area smitten?

  “Every morning at the very least,” Meredith explained. “And I believe Mr. Keller is due to spell Mr. Huber this evening after dinner.”

  “Tanner tonight,” Finn corrected her.

  Fortune twitched in Miss Hewett’s lap, and she hurriedly began petting her again. “How interesting. I’m sure you’ll secure them all positions, and they will be leaving shortly.”

  “I had hoped within the fortnight,” Meredith said. “I don’t suppose you are in need of a bodyguard, Julia.”

  “That would be lovely,” Mrs. Daring said with a deep sigh. “I can only do so much.”

  Abigail struggled to imagine she could do anything at all.

  Miss Hewett cast her companion a fond glance before answering Meredith. “My father hovers enough as it is. Daring is sufficient for my needs.”

  Mrs. Daring sighed again.

  Miss Hewett pulled back her hand and started to rise, sending Fortune leaping for the floor. “We should not keep you overly long. I merely wanted to see you for myself. Perhaps you’ll have more time to visit when the fortnight is over and your guards are gone.”

  Abigail frowned. London calls often didn’t last more than a quarter hour, but Miss Hewett and her companion must have taken some trouble to reach them, and she was friends with Meredith. Why leave so soon?

  “We will see each other before the fortnight ends,” Meredith said, rising as well. “I expect you will be at the assembly a week from Friday.”

  Miss Hewett waved a hand. “Oh, the assemblies are all so dull. Likely I will remain at home.”

  “But you told me expressly how much you were looking forward to it,” Mrs. Daring said, managing to gain her feet and tottering as she did so. “Did we not have a new ballgown made for the purpose?”

  “You must be thinking of another ball,” Miss Hewett assured her. She turned to Abigail with a ready smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Winchester. I do hope we may become better acquainted in the future.” She sailed from the room, her companion trailing behind like an anchor loosed from its mooring.

  “I will make sure they leave,” Finn said, striding after them.

  Abigail exchanged glances with Meredith. “Is she always so flighty?”

  “Never,” Meredith said with a frown. “She seems to have taken exception to the Imperial Guards. I wonder why.”

  {♥}

  It rained Wednesday night, leaving the trees dark and the sky clean on Thursday morning as Finn, Keller, and Roth made their way to the main house. Finn breathed in the air, closing his eyes a moment to savor the scents—wet wood, earth, smoke. It almost smelled like home.

  Roth and Keller were both studying the woods as if expecting trouble. He had told them and Tanner about his meeting with the Bow Street Runner, although he had not mentioned the matter to Lady Belfort and Abigail. He and the others were a match for the fellow, and there was still much they did not know.

  “This becomes tedious,” Roth said, black boots thudding against the lane as if they were as heavy as his thoughts. “Every interview seems designed to show us how ill-equipped we are to be anything but soldiers.”

  “We could join a British regiment,” Keller suggested. “Though I am cheered by the fact that we have better accommodations than many we’ve shared, and we have food and friends a-plenty.”

  Roth nodded, but his scowl said he was struggling.

  Finn understood. They were used to being on duty from breakfast to dinner or dinner to breakfast, patrolling the palace, standing guard at state functions, and escorting their king, his sons, and his courtiers about for protection. Leisure moments had been spent drilling or tending to their equipment. There had been no such thing as a half-day off much less days of lolling about, waiting. Even with Roth’s imposed drills, the time stretched.

  And why wait? Finn had yet to be sent for an interview, though he could not mind overmuch with the Bow Street Runner nosing around. Roth was working, but he returned to the house in the early morning hours, tight-lipped, and eventually fell into bed to sleep most of the day. Was this their future? Where was the honor, the glory? The purpose?

  The door opened to Roth’s rap, as usual, but a grey shadow flashed past his boots.

  “Stop her!” Mr. Cowls’ voice was surprisingly sharp. “Do not let her escape.”

  Keller reacted first, diving for the fleeing cat, but Fortune slipped through his fingers and dashed for the pond.

  Finn turned to keep her in sight. “There, under those bushes.”

  “Not for long,” Roth declared, striding in that direction.

  Fortune burst from the greenery to frisk down the path, as if taunting them.

  “Did you catch her?” Abigail appeared in the doorway, face flushed.

  Finn shook his head even as Keller followed Roth down the path. “She was too quick.”

  Her hands worried before her daisy-embroidered gown. “It’s my fault. I didn’t see her leave the withdrawing room. I should have been watching. Will you help me find her?”

  “Of course,” Finn said, and they set out after his comrades.

  The flagstone path opposite the door wound through tree and shrub, many ragged now with the promise of winter. Up ahead, Keller called Fortune’s name. The trees nearest them rustled.

  Finn stopped, glanced up, thinking to spy two copper-colored eyes gazing down at him. Instead, two narrow blue eyes that might have been called squinty stared down from a wrinkled face. Finn put Abigail behind him.

  “Who are you?” he demanded. “What are you doing here?”

  In answer, the fellow dropped to the ground on the other side of the tree and took off running, small frame weaving through the bushes with ease.

  Finn pivoted and braced his hands on Abigail’s shoulders. “Return to the house. Now. Tell Tanner to lock the doors.”

  {♥}

  Abigail stood, rooted in place. She’d only seen the man who had warned her in London for a moment, but she could not doubt the fellow in the tree was the same person. He had followed her, then.

  No time to understand what he hoped to gain by it. Finn had his duty, and she had hers.

  “Follow him,” she countered. “I will find Fortune.”

  He hesitated a moment, then snapped a nod and darted off after the fellow.

  Stomach knotting at the thought of the trouble she had brought on him and Meredith, she hurried forward, gaze sweeping over the bushes. “Fortune! Fortune! Please, darling, come to me!”

  Mr. Keller strode around a tree, and Abigail nearly sagged in relief at the sight of the grey-coated cat up in his arms. The delicate growl and narrowed eyes proclaimed Fortune’s displeasure.

  “I caught her by the pond,” Mr. Keller said. He stretched out his arms toward Abigail as if to offer her the cat.

  Fortune dug in her claws, and he winced. She turned her head away from Abigail and regarded him fixedly, as if accusing him of the darkest crime.

  “Perhaps I should carry her inside,” he suggested. “Would you call in Roth and Huber?”

  “I’ll find Mr. Roth,” she said, “but Mr. Huber has gone in pursuit of a stranger we discovered watching the house.”

  His eyes widened. “Then I should be the one finding Roth.” He unhooked Fortune’s claws from his sleeve and managed to transfer the cat to Abigail’s arms. “Go, quickly. We will protect you.”

  Abigail nodded and hurried toward the house.

  In her arms, Fortune hissed, fur as prickly as a porcupine.

  Abigail loosened her hold just enough to keep the cat from escaping again. “I’m so sorry. This will only take a moment.”

  As she came out onto the drive, the sun dove behind a cloud, casting the area into shadow. She fought a shiver. Fortune wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable. Had the man in the tree come because of Poyais? Was she never to be free of it?

  “Abigail?”

  She jumped, then hugged Fortune closer as Finn stepped out of the shadows, Mr. Roth and Mr. Keller right behind.

  “Gentlemen,” she greeted, hoping her voice didn’t sound as breathless as she feared. “What news of our unexpected visitor?”

  “He had a horse waiting along the road,” Mr. Roth reported. “We could not catch him.”

  Finn glanced back the way they had come. “We must speak with Lady Belfort.”

  She nodded, and they set out for the house.

  “Are you all right?” Finn asked beside her.

  She would have to find a way to explain to him and Meredith. For now, she focused on her minor success. “Fine. Just glad Fortune is safe.” Hand stroking the soft fur, she glanced his way. His dark brows were knit, his shoulders tight. She could not help but think herself at least partially to blame.

  “He was here for me,” she said.

  Finn’s frown only deepened, but Mr. Roth pinned her with a look.

  “Why?” he demanded.

  Any answer she might give would only cause more questions. “I’ll explain what I know to you and to Meredith,” she promised before chivying them all into the house.

  They found Meredith just coming down the stairs, with Mr. Tanner at her heels, having been alerted to the cat’s escape. She readily took Fortune, alternating between scolding her and crooning endearments as they all returned to the withdrawing room. Fortune suffered the demonstration while glowering at Mr. Keller as he took a seat across from them. Mr. Tanner leaned against the hearth. Finn and Mr. Roth saluted Meredith before taking seats as well.

  “Is she all right?” Abigail asked, bending closer to the cat.

  Fortune raised her head to bump against Abigail’s fingers, the touch somehow encouraging.

  “Fine,” Meredith assured her. “Most likely my nerves are more torn than hers. Why does she insist on trying to escape?”

  “Perhaps there is more to interest her outside,” Mr. Tanner suggested.

  “More to interest us as well,” Finn put in, leaning forward. “There was a man, Lady Belfort, up in a tree, watching the house.”

  She froze, fingers in her pet’s fur. “What? When?”

  “When we came out to find Fortune,” Abigail explained, sinking onto the sofa next to them. “And I recognized him. Before I left London, he confronted me and warned me to keep silent. I don’t know why, but today, he was studying the house.”

  “He may have been the one the postmaster mentioned,” Finn said. “He fit the description. And there is more you should know. When I went into the village the other day, I talked with a Bow Street Runner, sent to ask questions.”

  Meredith raised her chin. “And you waited to tell me until now?”

  Abigail could only agree. As if he knew he had disappointed them, he lowered his gaze. “He was not here about you, your ladyship. He came seeking Miss Winchester.”

  Abigail’s heart jerked, and she pressed a hand to her chest. “Me? Why?”

  “That, he would not say,” Finn replied. “But I am assured it is a mistake. You committed no crime.”

  Meredith turned her lavender gaze Abigail’s way, as if wondering.

  Abigail refused to flinch. “That is only too true. None of what happened to me was of my making, except these utterly unsuitable gowns!”

  They were all staring at her now, and she forced in a breath. Composure. Oh, why was it so elusive at times?

  “Perhaps,” Meredith said gently, “you should explain.”

  Abigail swallowed. She had only spoken the truth. Yet would they see it that way? Would they too try to hold her accountable for her father’s mistakes?

  She glanced from Meredith, who was studying her with head cocked, to Mr. Tanner and Mr. Keller, who were leaning forward expectantly, to Mr. Roth, whose arms were crossed over his chest as if he awaited some dire confession.

  Finn nodded to her, golden eyes warm and trusting.

  She drew in a breath. “Have you heard of the Poyais scandal?”

  “Certainly,” Meredith said. “It dominated the papers for months. Indeed, it was so audacious I am stunned how many were taken in by it.”

  Roth dropped his arms. “What is this scandal? I have never heard of Poyais.”

  “No one had,” Abigail told him. “And it turns out it never existed.”

  Chapter Eight

  Abigail could only be glad when Meredith spoke up. She was finding it difficult enough to explain the scheme.

  “An officer who had distinguished himself in the war with Napoleon traveled to Bolivia some years ago in search of adventure,” Meredith elaborated. “He apparently distinguished himself there as well. The British press ever sang his praises. So, when Colonel MacGregor returned, claiming to have been granted his own kingdom along the Caribbean Sea, many were ready to believe it.”

  “He didn’t just claim he had land,” Abigail said, determined that they should understand. “He claimed he had built a city with wide streets and lovely homes. He talked of rich farms and hills full of gold, silver, and precious gems, all there for the taking by anyone with a little ambition. He convinced dozens to invest, hundreds to migrate, promising positions, homes, and places at court. He was received by the Court of St. James!”