Page 62 of An Affair at Stonecliffe

NOELLE SPENT THE rest of the day with Gil, playing with him in the courtyard garden, laughing at his antics, and listening to his chatter. She ate early with him in the nursery rather than joining the family for supper and followed that by reading to him until bedtime. It was almost as it had been in the past, just the two of them, and she didn’t think of Carlisle at all...well, at least not more than once or twice.

But when she went to her room and faced the emptiness of her bed, loneliness and yearning claimed her. She told herself it was absurd to miss Carlisle. They had been alone together only a few days, not long enough to develop a strong attachment. And, in any case, it wasn’t as if he was gone from her life. He was right down the hall.

But that was part of the problem—his nearness was a temptation. It would be so easy to slip down the hall to see him, talk to him. Kiss him. Which she absolutely must not do.

Still, when she went down to breakfast the next morning, anticipation rose in her at the thought of seeing Carlisle. They might even be alone at the meal. Nathan had returned to his home the day before, and the countess was not an early riser.

Unfortunately, when she walked into the dining room, Noelle found that Carlisle had already eaten, and only Lady Lockwood and Annabeth were there. Lady Lockwood was in a particularly obstreperous mood, so much so that Noelle took pity on Annabeth and remained with the two women as they withdrew to the sitting room. Annabeth threw her a grateful look; they both knew Noelle would divert some of the old woman’s ire onto herself.

Carlisle joined them not long afterward, his eyes going first to Noelle. “Ah, I thought I heard voices in here. May I join you?”

Annabeth and Noelle chorused agreement as Lady Lockwood harrumphed and said, “We all know whose voice impelled you to visit.”

“Grandmother...” Annabeth murmured.

“Surely, Lady Lockwood, you must know I am always drawn by your dulcet tones,” Carlisle replied.

Lady Lockwood let out a sharp laugh. “Drawn to leave the house, I’d say.”

The butler appeared in the doorway, interrupting their acerbic banter, to say, “Lady Lockwood. Mr. Thorne. Mr. Dunbridge to see you, with a guest.”

He stepped aside to usher in Nathan and a tall, pale, very thin young man. The man hung back a bit behind Nathan, looking uncomfortable. Aside from his slenderness and his waxy, almost translucent skin, he was unremarkable in looks. His bespectacled face was serious, his dark suit plain and businesslike. Noelle took him to be a clerk of some sort.

“You’re back already, Dunbridge?” Lady Lockwood asked. “I must say, you might as well take up residence here.”

Nathan’s eyes twinkled, but he swept Annabeth’s grandmother a formal bow and said, “Please forgive me for intruding, ma’am. But I sent a note to my lawyer yesterday, asking him to meet with us regarding the tontine, and he was, as you can see, gratifyingly prompt. Ladies, Thorne, allow me to introduce Mr. Cato Thompkins.”

Lady Lockwood turned her piercing gaze on the man, who visibly wilted. “I can’t imagine why you thought he could tell us anything. He’s far too young to know your fathers’ legal affairs.”

“His father was my father’s attorney, ma’am,” Nathan explained. “You might say I inherited him. He is privy to all his father’s files and quite familiar with the family business.”

“You know about the tontine?” Thorne asked, his eyes brightening.

“Well...that is to say...no, sir.” Thompkins tugged a little at his cravat. “When I received Mr. Dunbridge’s request yesterday, I went to my father’s old files. I looked through them for any documents or even notes of such a thing, but there were none.”

Looking at him more closely, Noelle decided that the man’s awkward manner made him appear younger than he was. He must have some degree of experience and confidence, which made his lack of knowledge of the tontine more disheartening.

“No correspondence?” Carlisle asked, though his voice held no hope.

“No, sir. I’m sorry,” Thompkins replied apologetically. He glanced around at the group. “I wish I could have been of more help.”

“Not your fault, Thompkins,” Nathan assured him, clapping him on the shoulder and walking with him toward the door. “It was good of you to come all the way from Seven Oaks.”

“It was nothing, sir. Happy to do it.” Thompkins bowed to the room at large and made his escape.

Nathan turned back to the others. “Sorry. He could have just sent me a note saying that, but he’s almost frighteningly conscientious.”

“At least we know that your father’s lawyer is another dead end,” Thorne replied. “Come, join us.”

Nathan happily did so, sitting near Annabeth. Noelle imagined that Nathan bringing his lawyer to talk to them had more to do with seeing Annabeth than a need to deliver such paltry news.

“I’m going to write Mr. Penrose to see if he was part of this tontine,” Carlisle said after Nathan had settled in with a cup of tea. “Lord Haverstock, as well. I don’t know who else I could ask.”

“It is unfortunate that so many of those men have passed on.” Lady Lockwood frowned as if their deaths were a personal affront. “Even my poor Sterling. Of course, the men in our family have never had strong constitutions.” There was a moment of silence as there so often was after one of Lady Lockwood’s statements. “I doubt you’ll discover much from Freddie Penrose. Haverstock seems a better choice for answers, though they say he’s sadly diminished. It seems very careless for Thomas and Horace to have left no information. Surely they realized that they were all going to die.”

“I imagine that none of them expected to do so when they did. My father wasn’t yet forty,” Carlisle pointed out.

“Doesn’t it strike you as peculiar that so many of them are already gone?” Annabeth asked. “My father and Uncle Sterling were both in their fifties when they passed.”