adequate—but it skimmed a very fine figure that started with a set of shoulders held decisively upright. Her face had acquired an interesting definition, and he felt rewarded for his attention by something unique. Those sharply intelligent cornflower blue eyes, which had not seemed remarkable to him when he was younger, now struck him as compelling. In truth, she was a beauty.
“Lights have been observed in the woods at night,” she said, “and people take that for a sign he’s there. Though why a spirit should need lights, no one stops to think.”
He would wager the foolishness of adults believing in spirits would annoy her—she had such a determined air, as if she had things to accomplish and the Woods Fiend was in her way. “Who knows, really,” he said, “how well specters can see in the dark?”
She did not dignify that with anything more than a glare. Even her dog was glaring at him. But what a farce, and undeniably the only truly amusing thing that had been brought to him since he’d left the brotherhood of the army.
A heavy clatter came from the folly site, drawing her attention, and she squinted into the distance at the half-completed building. “What are you building over there?”
“A folly.” The builders were a father and son, Italian mercenaries his men had captured in Portugal. The duo were soon deemed rather tenderhearted, and in the way that his troops often adopted stray dogs, the Italians had been adopted and trusted with small jobs. Not knowing how his replacement would look upon the two men, Hal had brought Giuseppe and Pietro with him when Everard’s death had made him viscount. “It’s to be a miniature ruined amphitheater.”
“Doesn’t Mayfield already have a folly by the lake?”
“Yes, but I can’t see it from the manor.”
She sniffed. “Another folly.”
Her lips pressed together in disapproval; she seemed to have rather a lot of exasperation with him already. It was almost as if he’d offended her beforehand, which was ridiculous, since he hadn’t seen her in…
A smile tugged his lips as he remembered. Her fair brows drew together.
“You know very well, my lord, that there’s no Woods Fiend. It’s obvious someone is up to something in your woods. I would appreciate it if you would please see to this problem as soon as possible.”
“I’m surprised Rob and Ian haven’t gone after the Fiend themselves.”
“The problem developed after they left.”
She was waiting for him to agree to help, and then she would turn on her heel and stride back to Thistlethwaite with her hound. But he wasn’t ready for her to leave yet, perhaps because her acerbic presence was so interesting—he never got acerbic treatment from females, of any age.
“You know, Lily Teagarden, now that I see you here, I’m reminded of the last time I saw you. Because it was here at Mayfield, on the terrace, wasn’t it? You can see the spot quite well from here. Look.” She refused to turn her head, but he’d had his reaction in the spill of pink now suffusing her fair cheeks. A keener alertness sharpened the cornflower eyes.
“It was a fine summer evening, as I recall,” he said. “There I was on the terrace, chatting with friends, not even aware of your presence. Understandable, in that you’d concealed yourself in the bushes.” The color in her cheeks deepened.
“I’m not as entertained as you by memories of that night,” she said tartly.
“Oh, come, it’s amusing now, isn’t it? You’re all grown up, and you can have a laugh about your younger self.”
“As you say, it was a long time ago. Now, if you’ll promise to see to the woods, I’ll be on my way.”
But a commotion by the rotunda drew their attention; it was his brother John returning from a stroll with their sister, Eloise, and Hal’s friend Colin, the Earl of Ivorwood. Everyone was looking at Hal and his visitor, no doubt wondering what they were discussing. Eloise, ever exuberant, came over, trailed
“Lights have been observed in the woods at night,” she said, “and people take that for a sign he’s there. Though why a spirit should need lights, no one stops to think.”
He would wager the foolishness of adults believing in spirits would annoy her—she had such a determined air, as if she had things to accomplish and the Woods Fiend was in her way. “Who knows, really,” he said, “how well specters can see in the dark?”
She did not dignify that with anything more than a glare. Even her dog was glaring at him. But what a farce, and undeniably the only truly amusing thing that had been brought to him since he’d left the brotherhood of the army.
A heavy clatter came from the folly site, drawing her attention, and she squinted into the distance at the half-completed building. “What are you building over there?”
“A folly.” The builders were a father and son, Italian mercenaries his men had captured in Portugal. The duo were soon deemed rather tenderhearted, and in the way that his troops often adopted stray dogs, the Italians had been adopted and trusted with small jobs. Not knowing how his replacement would look upon the two men, Hal had brought Giuseppe and Pietro with him when Everard’s death had made him viscount. “It’s to be a miniature ruined amphitheater.”
“Doesn’t Mayfield already have a folly by the lake?”
“Yes, but I can’t see it from the manor.”
She sniffed. “Another folly.”
Her lips pressed together in disapproval; she seemed to have rather a lot of exasperation with him already. It was almost as if he’d offended her beforehand, which was ridiculous, since he hadn’t seen her in…
A smile tugged his lips as he remembered. Her fair brows drew together.
“You know very well, my lord, that there’s no Woods Fiend. It’s obvious someone is up to something in your woods. I would appreciate it if you would please see to this problem as soon as possible.”
“I’m surprised Rob and Ian haven’t gone after the Fiend themselves.”
“The problem developed after they left.”
She was waiting for him to agree to help, and then she would turn on her heel and stride back to Thistlethwaite with her hound. But he wasn’t ready for her to leave yet, perhaps because her acerbic presence was so interesting—he never got acerbic treatment from females, of any age.
“You know, Lily Teagarden, now that I see you here, I’m reminded of the last time I saw you. Because it was here at Mayfield, on the terrace, wasn’t it? You can see the spot quite well from here. Look.” She refused to turn her head, but he’d had his reaction in the spill of pink now suffusing her fair cheeks. A keener alertness sharpened the cornflower eyes.
“It was a fine summer evening, as I recall,” he said. “There I was on the terrace, chatting with friends, not even aware of your presence. Understandable, in that you’d concealed yourself in the bushes.” The color in her cheeks deepened.
“I’m not as entertained as you by memories of that night,” she said tartly.
“Oh, come, it’s amusing now, isn’t it? You’re all grown up, and you can have a laugh about your younger self.”
“As you say, it was a long time ago. Now, if you’ll promise to see to the woods, I’ll be on my way.”
But a commotion by the rotunda drew their attention; it was his brother John returning from a stroll with their sister, Eloise, and Hal’s friend Colin, the Earl of Ivorwood. Everyone was looking at Hal and his visitor, no doubt wondering what they were discussing. Eloise, ever exuberant, came over, trailed