Page 7 of Holly and Mistletoe (Out on a Limb #3)

In Which Lunch is Served, and No Dishes are Broken

Holly would never have admitted it, but she was somewhat nervous about the luncheon to come. The Trease family didn’t stand upon formalities, which was mostly due to Lady Hazel’s belief that a lot of it was utter nonsense, and she would rather dine alone than at a table where everything was frosty and correct.

But even so, Richard Hawkesbury was her responsibility. She, Holly Trease, had observed his attack through her telescope, she had been the one to drag him from the riverbank, get him to the Nook, give his wounds initial care, and also feed him.

All that, she thought, made her sort of in charge of him. And responsible for him as well.

Her mother would disagree, she knew, and in all fairness, Richard would probably have a quite vocal opinion as to that matter, too. But regardless, she couldn’t help a ripple of nerves running up her spine as she watched him come downstairs.

“Well met, Miss Trease,” he grinned, as he reached the hall. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long?”

“Oh, I wasn’t waiting,” she replied airily. “I just arrived myself.” His look, direct and amused, brought colour to her cheeks. “All right, if you must know, I thought it best that we go in together.”

“It would be my honour.” He extended his arm correctly, then leaned toward her a little. “I promise I won’t drink my soup out of the bowl.”

“I never, for a single minute, imagined…” She glanced at him, horrified, saw the spark of laughter in his eyes, and growled. “Dratted man. Do that again and I’ll wish those villains had hit you harder.”

He assumed a look of innocence. “Lunch?”

“This way.”

She nodded toward a set of double doors and led him through, wondering as she did so what he would think of her family, her home.

“What wonderful scents.” He took a deep breath, obviously enjoying the fragrance of freshly baked meat pie and a variety of other dishes.

“Simple food often smells the best.”

The words came from behind them, and Holly turned slightly to grin at her mother as she entered the room.

“I couldn’t agree more, my Lady.” Richard let Holly move away as he pulled out the chair at the head of the table, which obviously belonged to Lady Hazel.

“Thank you. I apologise for my husband’s absence, Mr Hawkesbury. But he and Sir Duncan are dining privately today.”

“Sir Duncan is not well?” Holly asked, helping herself to pie.

“He is frail,” replied her mother, looking sombre. “I could wish he took better care of himself, and this journey? At this time of year? Not one I would have advised.”

“What about Mr Blackstone?” It was a casual question.

Her mother shrugged. “He went off to Myrtle Manor this morning. I believe he was hoping to spend some time with Harry Chalmers, but honestly? I’m not sure Harry is there. I did tell him that, but he would go anyway.” She sighed. “I’m just glad Sir Duncan didn’t accompany him. Not in this weather.”

Richard, having seated himself and rescued the pie from Holly, nodded. “Although I’ve yet to have the pleasure of meeting Sir Duncan in person, I have heard from several other solicitors that he is a delightful gentleman and easy to work with, but not as robust as one might have hoped.”

Lady Hazel agreed. “Your observations tally with mine, Mr Hawkesbury.” She chewed thoughtfully for a moment or two, then swallowed. “My husband and I were quite young when we first made his acquaintance. It was after we moved in here, I believe. Which was after Lord Trease’s papa passed away.”

“You didn’t live here with him, Mama?” asked Holly, ever curious.

Lady Hazel shook her head. “No. We visited a lot, of course, but immediately after our marriage, we had a small house of our own, a few miles south of here.”

“But you knew Forest Grange would be yours, right?”

“Indeed, yes. However, your grandfather and grandmother, who were both wonderful people, insisted that we have chance to enjoy a life of our own before we started living like the Lord and Lady of the Manor.”

“I see the Trease family is possessed of a greater level of intelligence than many others I’ve had the misfortune to meet,” observed Richard quietly. “There is much to be said, I’m sure, for beginning married life unhindered by familial responsibilities such as this…” He glanced around at the elegant room.

Lady Hazel casually waved her fork in his direction. “Exactly so.” She looked at Holly. “Your young man is possessed of astounding amounts of common sense.”

Holly chuckled. “Because he agrees with you.”

“Well, of course.”

The laughter was genuine, and Holly found herself relaxing a little, as Richard seemed more than capable of holding his own, conversing with her mother in a most sensible fashion, which would appeal to her.

As the courses progressed, and eventually ended with some tiny, freshly baked mincemeat pies that melted in the mouth, Lady Hazel leaned back and watched as the servants cleared the remnants of their meal, as did their butler.

“That will be all for now, Ferguson. We’ll finish our tea and these pies, and you may clear the table later.”

“Of course, my Lady.” He whisked the last dishes and the maids from the room, closing the door behind him.

“And now, Holly, Mr Hawkesbury, I think the time has come to talk of what’s happening and why.”

Holly’s gulp was audible as she turned to Richard. “You must forgive me, sir. I’ve gone back on my word to you.” She took a breath. “I had to tell my mother everything.”

A faint smile crossed his lips as he shot a quick glance at Lady Hazel. “You didn’t believe any of the first story, did you?”

“Not a word of it.”

Holly glared at him. “If you say I told you so, I swear I will…I will…” She glanced at the table as Richard quickly moved the heavy crystal water pitcher out of her reach.

“Not the glassware, darling,” said Lady Hazel, clearly amused. “Try for some of the silver. It’s sharper and leaves more of an impression.”

Richard burst out laughing, a rich and cheerful sound that echoed around the room. Then he apologised. “I am sorry, that was wrong of me, but…” he laughed again. “You, my Lady, this…” he waved his hand in the air, “everything is so unlike anything I could have imagined.”

Lady Hazel looked pleased. “We pride ourselves on our unique originality, Mr Hawkesbury. Which reminds me. I believe it’s time we forgo the formalities. I shall now call you Richard, with your permission?”

“I would be honoured.”

And that was the truth. He couldn’t remember a more delightful lunch or a more entertaining pair of ladies. But inside he knew that it was all a precursor to the much more serious matter at hand.

And so, apparently, did his hostess.

“Very well, then, Richard. Now, tell me straightly if you please. Who the devil wants to kill you, and why?”

*~~*~~*

Relating the story of his downfall to Lady Hazel Trease was actually a lot simpler and easier than Richard would ever have expected. She grasped the underlying issues immediately, didn’t turn pale or clutch her bosom once, and even mumbled a few unladylike curses under her breath as he told of his attack.

“As I said before, I believe they left him to die, Mama, I really do.” Holly’s voice was firm.

“I agree. If the blows weren’t enough to bring on a fatal outcome, the weather certainly should have.” Lady Hazel nodded. “And so we arrive at the one enormous question that hangs over the entire incident…”

“The why?” said Holly.

“No, we know the why. It’s the why are the documents in your bag worth killing you for, Richard?”

He took a breath. “I truly wish I knew, my Lady. And I find myself in the devil of a predicament, because I am sworn to keep all such matters confidential.” He frowned, more at himself than anyone else at the table.

Holly watched his face, somewhat surprised that he could remain so firm in his commitment, even after the events of the last day or so, which included a violent personal attack.

“Perhaps we can work around your principles,” Lady Hazel mused, her eyes half-shut.

Holly knew that look. Her mother was plotting something.

Richard raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I understand, Ma’am.”

“Well, if, for example, you were asked a question that didn’t compromise your vow of silence, you would be able to answer, yes?”

“Of course,” he nodded.

“So I might ask something like…let me see…” She paused again, her gaze narrowing absently on the water pitcher in front of her. “Suppose…suppose I asked if you were familiar with Sir Duncan Aylmer’s business affairs. On a general level, of course.”

Richard thought about that. “I would, I believe, be able to answer in the positive. Yes, I have some—albeit limited—familiarity with the Rosewood Park estate business. It seemed sensible to acquaint myself with the fundamentals prior to my visit.”

“And yet you’ve not met Sir Duncan in person?”

He shook his head. “No, as I said, I have not yet had that honour.”

Holly leaned forward. “Where is this leading, Mama?”

Lady Hazel looked at her daughter, and Richard could see the pride in that glance, and the love. The Treases were indeed a unique family.

“Putting the facts we know together with the implications they might point toward, presents us with some optional areas to explore that won’t make Richard uncomfortable.” She turned back to him. “We can thus deduce that the documents he was carrying most likely had something to do with Rosewood business in a general sense.” She rested her forearms on the table. “Had it been very urgent, or of vital import to Sir Duncan? Your firm would have sent a solicitor familiar with the man himself, as well as his financial and business matters. I doubt they’d trust confidential personal documents to someone he’d not met before.”

Damn . She was very astute.

He considered his options, then finally nodded. “I believe that would be an accurate statement, yes.”

Holly pursed her lips as she turned this over in her mind. “So it would be along the lines of—I don’t know—not a trivial matter, since it certainly wasn’t to somebody willing to kill for it, but…” She raised her head sharply. “Estate business, but not personal. So…the only thing I can think of, is land.”

“Land. Yes, that’s an excellent assumption,” Lady Hazel nodded. “Something to do with the Rosewood Park land.” She looked at Richard. “You need not respond, my dear boy. The look on your face gives you away.”

“Uh…”

“It’s all right, Richard.” Holly did her best to reassure the man, who was looking rather shocked. “We’re not about to blab to the servants.”

“I know,” he answered. “And I truly appreciate your discretion in all this. But even though I cannot confirm your assumptions, we’re still left with the question of why the documents were so important. And that’s the one thing I cannot seem to sort out in my head.”

“Let’s put the pieces we have together,” said Holly, reaching for a pie. She broke it into several pieces and mounded some into a small pile on the tablecloth. “Since it’s about land, we should take a look at what we’re talking about. Here is Rosewood Park.”

“All right,” he nodded.

“And here,” more pie morsels were recruited, “is Forest Grange.”

“Move them further apart, dear,” suggested her mother. “Rosewood is very large indeed, and more to the north.”

“There.” Holly adjusted her impromptu building plan.

“So what’s missing?” Richard frowned.

“Myrtle Manor,” said Holly. “Wait. That goes…er…here.” She added a bit of pastry to represent the small hunting box. “And Lesser Banhope is down here.” That took care of the plate.

“Any special or notable features?” Richard studied the layout intently.

“Let me think…” Lady Hazel closed her eyes for a moment.

“Yes. Wait,” Holly pulled a ribbon from the trim on her lace sleeve, and laid it carefully on the table, so that it wound around the property lines of the map. “There. The river Ban.”

“Of course, my clever girl. I’d forgotten about the river.” Lady Hazel smiled approvingly. “It has always been regarded as the unofficial boundary marker for both Forest Grange and Rosewood Park, and winds its way past Myrtle Manor as well, just below Rosewood. There…” She pointed to the spot where the ribbon separated Rosewood and the Manor.

“Hmm.” Richard’s mind whirled.

“We have hit on something, haven’t we?” Holly stared at him. “You don’t have to answer. I can see it in your face.”

“I—”

His answer was cut short by a tap on the door, and Ferguson peered around it. “Your pardon, my Lady, but Mr Blackstone has returned. What would you like me to do with him?”

Holly bit her lip and glanced at Richard, who was giving her a look that quite clearly said, “ Do not say it .”

“Perhaps he would like to see our library, Ferguson. He did say he enjoyed reading, did he not?” It was an absent question, and Richard could see Lady Hazel’s mind working.

“Half the afternoon’s gone already, and the storm hasn’t let up,” offered Holly. “So I’m sure Mr Blackstone will need to change. If we could have tea served in the library, Mama, Richard and I will be happy to entertain him until you and perhaps Papa can join us.” She hid the glare she shot at Richard from her mother. “Won’t we?”

“Of course, Miss Holly. I would enjoy nothing more than to share tea with Mr Blackstone.” His words were simple, but his tone was less than enthusiastic.

“Hmm.” Lady Hazel looked at both of them. “Very well, then.” Turning to her butler, she nodded. “Can you arrange that, Ferguson? And let his Lordship know where they are?”

He appeared mildly offended. “Of course, my Lady.”

“I have to meet with Mrs Trenchard,” she said to Holly, “but I will join you as soon as I am done. Please pass along my apologies to Mr Blackstone?” She paused. “And Richard?” She fixed him with an imperative stare. “I’d not wish for my daughter to be left alone with that man.”

He nodded, meeting her gaze steadily. “I understand, Ma’am. And I wholeheartedly concur.”

Holly sighed, reached across the table, and ate Rosewood Park.