Skylark Read Free Page B

refused, and in disgust he’d given up the lessons.
    She knew how to load and prime a gun, however, and Hal’s were stored in the gun room, waiting for the day when Harry would be old enough to use them. Splendid hunting pieces, ornate dueling pistols, practical, deadly horse pistols. Her interest, however, was a smaller pistol that he’d carried in a pocket when out at night.
    She went into the room and made a face. The former Lord Caldfort had dabbled in the new art of taxidermy in order to preserve his hunting triumphs. A stag’s head loomed over the door, three foxes, one with a chicken in its mouth, ran along the tops of cabinets, and various predatory birds eyed her. She supposed they were all properly preserved, but to her the room always smelled of decay.
    She hurried past the racks of big guns and put her flickering candle down to open the drawer where Hal’s pistols were kept.
    It was empty.
    She frowned and opened the one to the left, but it held Lord Caldfort’s pistols. The drawer to the right contained old ones, kept only for curiosity value. She slowly closed that drawer, guessing where Hal’s pistols were.
    Jack had taken them.
    She stared at a beady-eyed hawk. Again, it was not unquestionably suspicious. Hal’s guns were the best money could buy, and if his brother wanted to use them until his son was old enough, why not?
    But it felt like a deepening of the threat. She considered Lord Caldfort’s pistols, but shook her head. If she was discovered, what excuse could she make? With Hal’s guns she had intended to say she wanted Harry to get used to one—unloaded, of course.
    The bigger guns wouldn’t be of much use to her, anyway. Her hands were small and she’d never really been able to handle Hal’s ordinary pistols. Only the smaller one.
    She picked up her candle and left the room, as weaponless as before.

Chapter 3
    Laura didn’t sleep well that night, despite trying to persuade herself that any threats were in her imagination. The next day brought a blessing in the form of a long letter from Juliet. After making sure that Harry was safe in the nursery, Laura took the letter to her boudoir to enjoy.
    One benefit of marriage to Hal had been her ability to introduce her younger sister to London society. Their own family were county gentry of the most minor sort. Their grandfather had been a yeoman farmer until he made the transition to gentleman farmer. Hal Gardeyne, heir to a viscountcy, had been a brilliant match.
    In London, Juliet’s good looks and loving nature had won her, too, a man of excellent family. She’d had to wait two years for Robert Fancourt to rise high enough in the Home Office to afford a wife, but she hadn’t seemed to mind. That thought troubled Laura now and then, but things in the past were past worrying over.
    Juliet was certainly happy now. She adored her Robert and thrived on living most of the year in London.
    Lines of social gossip and stories of comings and goings soon had Laura relaxed and smiling. Here at Caldfort, it was easy to forget that elsewhere life went on its merry way, even in October.
    Fashionable London would be quiet, but Juliet clearly found much to keep her busy. The bustle and hum almost rose from the page like an aroma, catching Laura’s breath with longing.
    She looked up from the letter and out at the tranquil countryside. It was doubtless shallow of her, but oh, to be in town, too. Walks in the parks, shopping, the theater, exhibitions, lively company, and the sheer fun of being with her favorite sister.
    She shook off wistfulness and turned to the next sheet. Juliet never tried to economize by crossing her writing.
    Can you imagine whom Robert brought to dinner not long ago? Sir Stephen Ball! He asked after you.
    Oh? Laura felt a strange sensation, as if something had tugged at her insides.
    I know he was only your friend’s brother, but I did think you and he might make a match of it. Before Hal, of course.
    Laura wondered how many