Page 56 of The Untamed Heart

Perhaps he might beat some sense into them. He’d used to be quite the ladies' man once upon a time. He’d known how to flirt and charm… hadn’t he? Perhaps he’d been kidding himself. Perhaps it had always been the uniform, he thought with a sigh, and then wondered if that was the only reason Eustacia had looked at him that way, for she’d never done so before.

It was a dispiriting idea.

Before he could make another hopeless attempt at drawing her into conversation, the door burst open.

“A ghost story,” her brother announced, beaming at them.

This non-sequitur startled Marcus but Eustacia seemed to understand.

“Yes, a Christmas ghost story is a wonderful idea. Have you something specific in mind?” she asked, as Marcus gazed in dismay at the abominably tied cravat the man had knotted about his throat, and his thick curls which appeared to have been caught in a storm without him setting a foot out of doors.

No wonder everyone believed him to be a poet. He had the look down to perfection.

Sebastian hurried into the room, pulling on his coat. “A local legend. It suddenly occurred to me last night that I’d heard tell of various stories, ghosts and ghoulies, you know the sort of thing. I’m going down to the village now to see if anyone can give me more information.”

“I should try Reverend Honeywell,” Eustacia said, coming around from behind her easel, brush still in hand. “He knows everyone and everything.”

“A marvellous idea. Thanks, Stacy. I’ll see you later, then. Oh, by the way, there was a fellow outside earlier, did he knock?”

Eustacia frowned and shook her head. “No. What fellow?”

Sebastian shrugged. “No idea. I got the impression he was coming here, but perhaps I was mistaken. He was probably just out for a ride, or perhaps he was one of your admirers, Stacy, come to moon over you,” he added with a smirk before dashing out again, closing the door behind him.

“Well, he seems in better spirits,” Marcus said wryly, though not entirely sanguine at the idea a fellow might have come here to be close to Eustacia. What kind of fellow did that but did not call upon the lady? Disquieted, he turned to look at her, and she returned a crooked smile.

“He does,” she replied with a sigh. “For now. We shall see how long it lasts.”

Chapter 16

Logic and Lunacy

Hatherley Hall, Little Valentine, East Sussex, 30th September 1816

“Oh my god, I never said that!” Sheringham retorted, handing his hat, coat, and gloves into the care of the footmen who had appeared with silent efficiency.

“You did. I remember quite distinctly,” Lucius replied. “You said my cravat looked like it had been chewed up and spat out by a wild animal.”

“I said a badger,” Sherry corrected, wagging a finger at him. “But I never said I was embarrassed to be seen with you.”

“No, you only made me change my clothes before you’d get in the carriage with me,” Lucius grouched, and not for the first or even fiftieth time. He’d been like a dog with a bone ever since the scene at the inn at dawn that morning.

Sherry had been fervently wishing he’d just put up with the sight of the mangled cravat and crumpled attire in stoic silence ever since, but his love of order and notions of sartorial elegance had got the better of him. He’d insisted Lucius borrow a clean shirt and cravat of his, as he always carried extra in case of emergencies.

Lucius constituted an emergency.

“Well, what manner of man leaves home without a single item of clothing in his baggage? What precisely is in that bag you’ve been carting about with you, if not clean shirts and cravats?” Sherry demanded in exasperation.

“Books,” Lucius replied, folding his arms. “I get bored.”

“Books.” Sherry let out a sigh. “Of course. Well, might I suggest next time you bring two bags? One with books, the other with the necessary accoutrements for the appearance of a gentleman. For my sake.”

“Lord, you’re fussy,” Lucius grumbled, shaking his head. “But if it makes you less irritable, fine.”

“Good,” Sherry said in relief, before turning back to Lucius with a frown. “Why didn’t your valet pack for you? You do have a valet?”

Despite what the fashionable world believed, Sherry could do without his valet for a day or two if he was travelling. But not to have one at all was such a disturbing thought he gazed at Lucius in horror.

Lucius just shrugged. “Valets go off.”