Page 79 of No Ordinary Lady

“Have you ever noticed that fate has a funny way of choosing its own direction?” Granny asked, and then smiled. “Now, you must be famished after your ordeal. Come and eat.”

When she gestured to the table beside her, Marian noticed more sugar biscuits and a glass of milk had been laid out. “You were expecting me?”

“Of course,” Granny promised. “Eat up, dear girl. The day is about to become even more exciting than even I could have foreseen. After you eat, I think you ought to take a dip in the grotto pool.”

Marian paused with the glass of milk partway to her lips. “Why the grotto?”

“You never know what the day will bring,” Granny answered. “I want you looking your best, and as ravishing as possible. Wash your hair.”

“Yes, madam,” Marian was too hungry to ask any more questions, so she finished the biscuits, drained her glass, and let herself be ordered out of the old lady’s room after promising to take a nice relaxing soak in the hot spring.

Chapter Eighteen

Daniel dropped the head of the axe to the hardwood floor, causing the little bottles on Mother’s dressing table to rattle in their places. “Mother, where is she?”

Mother turned slightly. “Where is who?”

“You know I can only mean Marian Trill. She was locked up in that dressing closet of yours not ten minutes ago. What have you done with her?”

Daniel hefted the axe into the air, with half a mind to use it on something else in the room to lessen his frustration and anger. He’d expected Marian to be here so he could rescue her from her prison. It would have been romantic.

Mother glanced at the axe, but was utterly unruffled by his display of aggression. “I can’t be expected to know every movement the Trill girl makes about the manor. She’s not my daughter.”

“But she was locked in your room all of last night,” Daniel pointed out.

“Yes, so I heard, but she’s clearly left it now,” Mother answered, setting a string of pearls about her neck, and smiling at her reflection.

Her attention remained on herself in the mirror, as if her appearance was the most fascinating and important matter of the day. It was almost as if she was trying to make out that Marian’s night of captivity hadn’t even happened. But Daniel couldn’t quell the certainty that a disagreement of some sort had occurred between Mother and Marian. A disagreement that Marian curiously denied, as well.

Mother looked around, acting surprised to find him still in her room. “Oh, did you speak with the carpenter yet about the sticking doors?”

“No, I’ve yet to have time to seek him out,” he admitted, annoyed by the attempt to change the subject. Mother always did that.

He prowled the room and peeked into the dressing closet, where he’d last seen Marian. Nothing was out of place except a rolled-up length of cloth left on a small table. Daniel found that curious. He picked it up and unrolled the length, and discovered it was actually four lengths of cloth. Each one with creases.

He studied the two chairs in the room and the fabric ties with growing suspicion.

Marian had been tied up at some point but lied to him about it. He’d bet his life on that.

Why not tell him? He would have done something about his mother. He would have banished Mother from the manor or something far worse to protect Marian.

He returned to Mother’s bedchamber and threw the four lengths onto the table in front of her. “Explain this if you can.”

Mother shrugged. “Are you incapable of sticking to a singular subject today? It is the attention to detail that matters most when running an estate of this size. I’ve no idea what these are, but I’ll have my maid put them away later.”

“Mother!”

“Son, if you hadn’t wasted your time in London, you would know that the change of season always plays havoc with this old house. The carpenter could have told you that doors stick all the time.”

“This isn’t about sticking doors. It’s about Marian.”

Mother sat up straighter. “Why all the concern for my mother’s new companion? She’s hardly worthy of your notice.”

Daniel sighed. What was the point of keeping secrets from her? He was fairly certain Mother already suspected his interest was not that of a distant employer. “She’s more than that to me.”

Mother’s brows rose high. “Is she really?”

“Yes.” He bit his tongue then over what he could have said to explain why Marian mattered to him so much. Mother didn’t need to know the particulars of his amorous pursuits, and she probably didn’t want to know either. All she’d wanted was for him to marry and to get an heir, ensuring the estate passed to the next generation while she was still here to see it happen.