“I think we should take a look at it,” Miles stood. “I need to know we can keep an eye on his Grace at all times. If not, then we must think of something else.”
Everyone rose, looking at Ivy.
“This way.” She led them from the room and down the hallway toward the rear of Hartsmere House. “I had the window remade into French doors so that we could get outside with a minimal amount of trouble.”
“This is quite lovely,” remarked Rose. “I’ve not seen it since it was finished.”
Moving next to her, Ivy gazed out at the bright and sunny garden, featuring several brick paths that wound in and around a delightfully landscaped plot and led one’s eyes to the fountain.
Three of the walls of the old carriage house had been removed and replaced with brick columns, supporting the roof and creating a shaded walk. Pots of plants had been carefully positioned and already some were blooming in the sunlight pouring past the chimney pots of Hartsmere House.
Sir Ronan and his men had worked hard, and with an eye to colour; geraniums blazed against green ferns, and shiny rhododendrons that would bloom the following spring already grew sturdy in the centers of several flowerbeds.
“There are still a few things that need completing,” Ivy observed. “I have to pass the congratulations and the credit to Sir Ronan. He’s been very involved with this project and has offered much in the way of good advice.”
Miles and the Duke wandered around the room, eyeing the arrangement of the windows and the walls with interest.
“Here,” said Miles, pausing in one particular spot and squinting outdoors. “You can see pretty clearly from here, and yet anyone outside might not notice you, because of the way the strong sunlight hits the glass …” He aimed a finger and cocked an invisible trigger.
“Agreed,” the Duke narrowed his eyes. “It’s an excellent vantage point, and with just one of the French doors ajar, you might even be able to get a clear shot off, if necessary, providing I was in the right spot.” He looked around. “And on that thought…who’s our best marksman?”
Miles chuckled. “That would be Mowbray. By a mile.”
Thus addressed, Mowbray blushed. “My brother is too kind. But I will say, with all modesty, I do have a minor reputation as a good shot.”
“He bagged a partridge in full flight when the rest of us could barely see it,” said Miles dryly.
“And you made me pluck the damn thing.”
“It kept you humble,” grinned his brother.
“Well, that’s settled,” said the Duke. “Mowbray, if you would be so kind as to take this spot…”
Doing as he was bid, Mowbray stood silently as the Duke tried other suggestions, sent a couple of the women outside, and generally experimented with what he considered to be the safest method of deploying his troops.
At least that’s how Ivy viewed it.
And when they were done, she had to agree. If they could lure Barrett into the back garden and bring him face to face with the Duke, there wouldn’t be a single spot where he wasn’t covered by someone who would be armed.
Miles and Mowbray would be indoors, while Ragnor would take up a spot outside, behind one corner of the carriage house wall. It was in the shade during the afternoon, and he could slip behind it and still have an excellent vantage point of the entire area.
Not to be outdone, Lydia demanded her chance to shine. “I can shoot, too,” she said. “Ask anyone. Last Christmas I was permitted to join the shoot at The Buckles. I will simply say that we wouldn’t have had quail pies had I not been present.” She stared at the group, daring them to disagree with her.
“How are you with a smaller weapon?” The Duke asked her, his curiosity clear.
“I’ve handled them. Done some target practice. Duelling pistols mostly, and only because I wanted to know what they felt like when discharging.”
“Um…” Judith blinked at her.
“Some weapons have quite a bit of a kick to them.” Lydia imparted the information with a knowledgeable air. “But the pistols I tried didn’t hurt my hand at all.”
“Well then, Miss Davenport, I nominate you to be positioned here next to this window, just with a duelling pistol. And our quarry will think nothing of it, since you’re known to be my wife’s close friend.”
“Excellent,” she chuckled, rubbing her hands together. “I shall be very happy to do so, your Grace.”
“Are you planning on giving her the ammunition to go with it?” inquired Miles.
Lydia’s scornful glance should have turned Miles into a stain on the carpet.
“Just try not to shoot any of us.” Mowbray’s lips curved into a smile.
“I’ll do my best, but if either you make any more remarks like that I might suddenly develop a problem recalling exactly who is my designated target…” Her suggestive retort made everyone laugh.
“I can’t say this whole idea has my wholehearted support,” Ivy stood and looked at them all. “But I believe it may solve our problem in the only way possible. Barrett has to be stopped. If we hear him confess to slandering Colly, we have him.” She swallowed. “And my obvious concern—that Barrett will attempt violence—will be addressed by our armed observation gallery.” She looked at the Duke. “Please, be honest. Will you feel safe if we attempt this?”
He walked to her and took her hand in front of everyone, surprising her with the casual informality. “Yes, my dear. If our friends cannot protect me, I will lose all faith in just about everything. I’m not ready to do that, so again, I say yes. I believe my safety will be assured. And
