Page 11 of The Lady is Trouble

Chapter 4

To begin, begin.

~William Wordsworth

Later that morning,after dragging Finn from his bed, they left the Cock and Bull, seated together in the carriage, until for no reason Piper could determine, Julian’s aura began to flare, and he moved to ride alongside on a horse procured at the inn. He rode with a natural rhythm, reins dangling from slim fingers, muscular thigh digging into the horse’s flank. When he caught her watching, he held immobile, then, with a hoarse command, urged his mount to the front of the path, outside her view.

Nothing had changed.

One-sided, their fascination.

With a quick glance at Finn, Piper pushed the thought from her mind. Finn needed contact to read someone, or he had before, but maybe his gift had strengthened as Julian’s had.

As it was, the poor boy sought to ease the strain of the past twenty-four hours by regaling her with stories of Harbingdon and the village that lay beyond it, his smile only slightly brittle. The countryside changed as they entered an area of gently rolling hills swathed in dense expanses of woodland. The air thickened with the scent of moss, decay, and pine, the fragrance drawing like a shawl around her.

The rhythmic groan of the carriage wheels circled her ears as notions of what lay ahead circled her mind.

She admitted to being nervous when she was not a nervous person.

In the afternoon, with crimson and teal darkening the sky, the carriage halted at a drive flanked by two massive stone pillars. Julian’s deep voice filtered through the open window as he spoke to the gatekeeper and what appeared to be four guards. With a lurch, springs squealing, they passed between the pillars and continued along the gravel drive.

Piper considered waking Finn. She should have listened to his hours-ago ramblings about Harbingdon. Instead, she knew nothing about the place Julian called home with such longing.Home. When had she, Julian, and Finn ever had a place to call home? Memories of the errant childhood after her mother’s death came to her, as pronounced and choking as smoke from the hotel fire. By the time she’d made it to her grandfather’s estate at the age of twelve, her sense of family, security, love, shelter, anything resemblingnormalcy, was as distressed as the leather carriage grip she clung to. Only after Julian and Finn had arrived a year later and shared with her their paranormal existence did her life start to settle.

Leaning to get a better view as they pulled in the circular drive, the arched entrance of a lovely manor glided into view above a line of Yews in desperate need of pruning. She released a sigh, her hand rising to her lips to hold it in.Oh, this house was Julian’s in every way.

Elegant, restrained,beautiful.

Each window was in proportioned balance to the whole, each chalk stone uniform, identical wings jutting from the main to steady the scale. This house, unlike so many others, hadn’t been ruined with additions.

No line of servants stood to greet them, instead only Humphrey, scowl sitting like a lump of wet dough on his face. She sniffed. Naturally, his aura shone the color of mud. He was Julian’s man ofeverything—friend, manservant, valet, personal assistant. As wide as two men, though Julian topped him in height, he intimidated with just the glower, which rarely left his ruddy face. He’d arrived on her grandfather’s doorstep, bruised and dressed in rags, mere days after Julian, and he hadn’t left his side since. They were as close as brothers—had saved each other was Julian’s only explanation—and aside from Finn, Humphrey was his only confidant. She’d always felt jealous of their relationship, which was senseless and said a lot about how hopeless she’d always been about anything connected to Julian.

She knocked her knuckle against the window. She didn’t imagine Humphrey was going to be thrilled to see her.

Julian rode past and slid gracefully from his mount. A groom appeared with prompt efficiency and ambled away with the beast. Julian and Humphrey conversed, and her anxiety shifted to irritation as Julian gestured to the carriage with a beleaguered expression. Humphrey glanced her way, ran his hand across his mouth, then raised his shoulders with a shrug that clearly said,she’s your problem.

Prepared to defend herself but wondering how she’d make it out without the step lowered, Piper had her hand on the door, ready to bolt, when her breath caught in surprise. A dog—small, wiry, and truthfully a little pathetic looking—bolted from the side of the house and ran straight to Julian, who dropped to his knee, words lost but affection clear as he stroked the animal from nose to tail.

So, this was part and parcel of home: Humphrey and adog.

Her heart gave a slow, aching thump. A permanent residence had not been possible with her father’s itinerant lifestyle, much less the ability to house an animal, even though she’d asked, begged, on occasion.

She hadsurvivedby pushing aside longings for unattainable things.

Julian entered the manor without a backward glance, the dog at his heel, leaving her with a slumbering Finn and a scowling Humphrey. She readied for battle as the step clicked into place, and the carriage door swung wide. Humphrey’s arm, the one with the pitted scar running its length, shot into the interior. She straightened her spine and placed her hand in his, refusing to cower.

Piper Scott did not cower, even if she’d made a terrific mess of things and likely should. “Humphrey.” She met his gaze but tucked her shaking hands in the folds of her skirt. “I hope you’re well.” She fashioned a wilted curtsey.

“Could be better, Scamp,” he replied and turned with a nod that implied she best follow.

“That nickname”—she stalked after him—“we’ve discussed in the past.”

He snorted. “Grow up, girl, and you’ll not hear it cross my lips again.” His accent, as rough and uncultured as he was, certainly suited the rebuke.

She jerked off her gloves in place of the comment she’d like to make.And she was in deep enough, wasn’t she?

He glanced back as they crossed the shadowed portico and entered the house, the forlorn tilt of his lips possibly counting as amusement, as if he recognized she restrained her vitriol. She couldn’t determine if Humphrey liked her or not, and she’d always believed he enjoyed her uncertainty. And with as many hurdles as she’d made Julian jump, she guessed she couldn’t blame him.

Halting in an entryway bounded by haphazardly placed benches, she gazed up and around. “How extraordinary.” She stood at one end of a spectacular vaulted hall, a curved bay window at the other end spilling sunlight in a swath across marble. A floating staircase climbed the first and second floors, providing an enchanting viewpoint. “I’ve never seen the like in a country home,” she said, thick Savonnerie muffling her step.