Treasure! Use your brain, boy.
He couldn’t very well respond to a voice in his head, but he’d dearly like to ask how an obnoxious, penniless Malcolm could be a treasure. Gerard had pretty much determined the old soldier didn’t mean real coin, to his disappointment.
“You could wear your student costume and go with Zane and Gerard to the demolition site,” Azmin said helpfully. “No one will notice one more student wandering about. I’m not sure what the fascination is with old tools and broken pottery, but there might be hidden coins or jewels, I suppose.”
Gerard couldn’t help himself. He waited to see Iona’s reaction to that insane proposal.
She nibbled her bread and thought about it. “It sounds quite filthy and not the kind of place I would drag my new petticoat, but it should be interesting to see. In fact, I’d love to explore the whole area. It’s only a mile from the palace to the castle, correct? I can walk that easily. A guide would be lovely, so I understand the history I’m seeing.”
“You’re interested in history?” Gerard heard himself saying, much to his dismay. He knew better than to express interest in any topic a woman brought up.
“I enjoyed it in school. I can’t say that I’ve ever been given any other opportunity. So, yes, I’d like to learn more. I simply must be careful not to be noticed by my stepfather or his spies, so the student guise will have to suffice.”
His cousin Zane chuckled. “I’d say give her over to Phoebe, but she’s up to her ears in animals and students at her new veterinary school.”
“And I’m working with the newspaper on an article about the lack of resources for women whose husbands mistreat them. The editor is not wholly sympathetic, so I have to monitor every aspect of the story. It should be done in a few days, but I will be busy until then,” Azmin said apologetically.
“I do not expect anyone to entertain me,” the intrepid countess protested. “I was hoping perhaps a student of history might be interested in accompanying me.”
“If you wore that gown, they’d be most interested,” Gerard said dryly. “I don’t suppose you can acquire widow’s weeds? A nice thick veil should do the trick.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “That’s a rather obvious disguise if I’m seen leaving any Malcolm establishment. Mortimer’s spies might be watching.”
“I cannot believe the sot has the wherewithal to hire—”
The front doorbell resounded through the house.
“We’re not expecting anyone.” Dare lay down his utensils.
With a sigh, the countess removed her plate and vanished behind the baize servants’ door.
A young lad dressed in a uniform arrived with a silver platter. “A message from the Earl of Craigmore, my lord.”
Seventeen
“Mortimer knows I’m staying here, and that I brought the baron with me!” Lord Ives rested an elbow on the mantel in the front room after dinner. “How can he possibly have followed us?”
To their hosts, he probably appeared as a model of aristocratic irritation and no more. Iona, however, needed roses to mitigate the scent of his fury so she could pretend he didn’t affect her.
She tested the keys of an old pianoforte. “He pays street urchins, probably with the American’s money. At home, he’d simply tell everyone he’d not let them hunt on our land if they didn’t report our every move. Poor people are very cooperative if it means food in their stomachs.”
She regretted bringing this down on her nice hosts and the earl. “I’ll go to the flat I’ve rented in the morning. He’s less likely to find me on my own.”
“You will do no such thing,” Azmin, Lady Dare, protested. “It could be surrounded by thieves and infested with bedbugs. It’s not as if your stepfather can break into our house and abduct you.”
Iona held her tongue.
The all-too-perceptive Lord Ives noticed. He stopped his prowling to glare at her. With their hosts, he was the very model of decorum and bored aristocracy. She seemed to be the only recipient of his scowls. His attention warmed her all over, especially when he hovered by the piano to select music.
“Abduction is illegal,” he said in a practiced, offhand tone. “He wouldn’t do that, would he?”
Iona picked out a few notes of the song on the sheet music he opened. It had been a long time since she’d practiced—since school, at least. “When Mortimer emptied her savings, Isobel ran away to a friend’s house in hopes of having him reported to the sheriff. Mortimer sent one of our tenants to stop her and bring her home.”
The shock had rendered her twin insensible so she could not fight. Iona could fight, but she wasn’t much good at it when Isobel was used as a shield.
The viscount whistled in surprise. Lord Ives crumpled the music sheet he held.
“We sent the messenger away with a flea in his ear,” Azmin said, with an implacable tone that said she’d use a knife on the next one. “This is not the rural Highlands. Our guests are private. But if the urchins recognize your baron’s disguise, it’s probably not wise to use it again.”
“I suppose not,” Iona said regretfully. “It was foolish of me to test it on Mortimer in the first place. I should have just taken Lowell’s pistol and shot the rat when we ran into him like that. I am not good at thinking on my feet.”
“Never give her a pistol,” the earl said without inflection to no one in particular.
“The two of you should visit my investment agents tomorrow in your baron guise.” Zane poured himself another whisky, then offered the decanter to the earl. “Hugh is on his honeymoon, but I’ll send a note to his partners about the baron. Once there, Lady Iona can change into different attire and the secretaries can take her elsewhere. That should discourage any urchins following.”
“I’ll take my plain gown, and look
