Page 45 of The Earl Next Door
Lyon sensed that his valet had come back into the room but he hadn’t heard him leave. That was odd. Dome didn’t usually intrude once the water was delivered but if he did, it was only long enough to see if Lyon needed anything and then he’d quietly slip away. Lyon turned his attention back to the article about the Prince’s extravagant expenditures on three pieces of art the writer considered less than worthless and more unnecessary spending by the Regent’s unrestrained appetite for anything he wanted. No doubt his father would have a few choice words to say about the author of the piece. Not that either the ridicule or the spending was likely to change.
Another rustle of movement in the room disturbed Lyon. He was about to ask his valet what the devil he wanted when he heard a slight whisper. Was Dome talking to himself? Before Lyon could ask there were more whispers and the scurry of soft-soled shoes padding on the wood floor.
Small shoes.
He tensed, and the fine hairs on the back of his wet neck rose. What he heard was not coming from his quiet-as-a-mouse valet. Someone else was in the room. He slowly lowered the newsprint until he could peek over the top. Without moving his head, he gazed first at the open door that led from his dressing chamber into his bedchamber. No one was there. He slowly shifted his gaze around the room. He saw nothing out of place and no movement, but knew someone was with him.
Who? And where?
Remaining still but watchful, something caught his eye. The face of a little girl peeked from behind the large upholstered wing-back chair that stood near the entrance. His gut tightened. His fingers started slowly closing tightly around the newsprint, crumpling it in his palms. She was the little redhead he’d seen playing outside the morning he’d been at the school.
Suddenly the head of another girl appeared. She had light brown hair and big popping blue eyes that stared straight at him.Damnation!How many were there? And how did they get into his bedchamber?
What could he do? He couldn’t stand up but he had to get the girls out of the room. In frustration, Lyon splashed the paper into the water and yelled, “Dome!”
The girls squealed and raced out the door. He heard them collide with his valet in his bedchamber. More screams rang out.
Lyon yanked a towel off the table and wrapped it around his waist as he rose and hopped out of the tub calling for Brewster to help Dome. He should have never felt sorry for the little imps. He should have moved them out to the countryside when he’d thought about it. By the time the towel was secure and he’d made it to the top of the stairs, the girls had already reached the bottom step where Brewster was standing, blocking their exit, and Dome preventing their retreat.
The little chicks were cornered. It would serve them right if he had them both thrown in a workhouse.
“Hold them until I can dress and get down.”
Once again, Lyon found himself in too big of a hurry to confront the girls than to clothe himself properly. He threw a shirt over his head and stepped dripping wet into his trousers and then into his boots. That wasn’t the normal order or manner of dressing but ever since Adeline moved next door his whole life seemed out of harmony with what he expected. The folly and energy of the moment caused him to rapidly descend the stairs and stand towering over a tall, brown-haired, lanky girl who leaned against the wall trembling with fear and a stout freckle-cheeked younger lass who seemed perfectly calm with the disorder going on around her.
“How did you two get in here?” he asked, unbelievably calm for what had just happened.
Neither girl answered.
“The doors are locked, my lord,” Brewster insisted. “As always to protect your privacy and avoid anyone without an appointment disturbing you.”
“Are you going to cut us up and have us for your dinner?” the taller girl asked in a shaky voice.
“What?” Stunned, Lyon looked at Brewster who seemed just as shocked by her comment. What the devil was he going to do? Just a few days ago he’d tried to make amends for scaring the life out of the girls by sending a pianoforte over for them to enjoy, and they had. He’d heard them many times. Now he had to contend with this madness.
“No, of course not,” Lyon declared. “Where did you hear such nonsense?”
“It happened to a boy in a story Miss Hinson read to us,” she answered timidly.
“But the boy came back to life and was haunting the man,” the girl with the freckles covering her face added. Lyon couldn’t help but notice she didn’t appear the least perturbed by him or the fact that she’d been caught snooping in his bedchamber.
“A ghost story,” Lyon grunted. “Miss Hinson needs to be taken to task for what she reads to you.”
“It’s not scary to me, but most of the girls didn’t like it,” the redhead said.
“I can see why,” he grumbled. “Now tell me what you’re doing in my house.”
Both girls remained silent, staring up at him withtheir innocent-looking eyes. Lyon supposed it wasn’t up to him to question the girls anyway. Only to return them.
“All right,” he said. “Come with me.”
“Where are you taking us?” the taller girl asked.
“You can’t take us back to the school,” the shorter lass said with a tinge of defiance in her tone. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him with her lips in a pout. “We’ll get in trouble for leaving.”
“You should. I think you are in more danger from slipping into my house than you are for slipping out of the school. Besides, I’m not taking you there. I’m taking you to Lady Wake. It will be her decision as to what’s to be done about you. Now, one of you on each side of me. Let’s go.”
Brewster quickly opened the front door. “No, we’re going out the back. There will be fewer eyes to watch us leaving if we use the garden entrance.”
