The Beekeeper

Chapter 25

Riding upon the property, his first instinct was to look for her. He could not help himself. He hoped to see her walking nearby, perhaps among the wide expanse of green lawn or in the nearby fields. When his eyes did not see her there, he found himself looking up at the windows, hoping to see her face.

Where is she?

She was near. He could sense it. It was all he could do to keep from leaping to the ground, running like a madman through the front doors, and shouting for her.

A groom came rushing forward at the sight of the visitors, and though he hesitated at Guy's dark appearance and Agatha's strong presence, Stephen gestured for him to take their horses. Then he turned his attention back to Guy.

"Let us go inside and speak plainly to one another."

Guy nodded, allowing Agatha to go before him. They walked through the arched doorway, following Stephen into the great hall. A young lady, garbed in a housekeeper's garments, came forward to meet them.

"Beatrice," he said, speaking in French. "This dear lady is a relation of mine. She is my Aunt Agatha. See that she has anything that she requires."

There was a moment of awkwardness between the servant and Agatha, who was so used to managing all things for herself.

"How I am to manage this?" she said. "I speak no French."

Stephen replied, "She speaks some English. I am sure you will comprehend one another."

Agatha snorted in disapproval - but her expression softened as she looked at Guy. She reached out to gently pat the side of his face with her palm.

"You are nearly there, boy. Do not let this one sway you from your mission. You can never underestimate the stubbornness of a DeWarren."

After shooting a withering look at Stephen, she turned away. Guy watched her go - a slight smile briefly curling his lips. But then he looked away at the hall, examining it. To one side of the room was a narrow set of stone steps leading to the second story, and he wondered...

Is she in one of those upper rooms?

His heart beat fast at the thought, making him long to rush up the steps - tearing through the passageways until he found her. Only the sound of Stephen's gruff command kept him from acting on the impulse.

"Come, Gisborne. Do not stand about like a bit of furniture. You will not find her wandering by, if that is your hope." He sighed. "I fear she keeps very much to herself – and she spends most of her waking hours wandering the outdoors. It was her husband's wish that she be allowed the use of the grounds, so long as she had supervision."

Hearing Edwin spoken of in that way, Guy's eyebrow went up with interest. "Her husband's last wish? Is he dead?"

Stephen shook his head. "I would certainly be happy to dash your hopes, but no. He is not dead. He is bound for Paris, and he intends to settle there with his mistress." Turning away, he walked across the wide expanse of the hall - moving across the rush strewn floor to a dais, where he sat down in an ornate wooden chair.

Guy quickly asked - "Has he abandoned Cassia, then?"

Waiting for a reply, he saw how Stephen looked every bit the proud lord of the manor – particularly the way he crossed his arms as he answered, a sure sign of his intention to be difficult.

"He has merely gone away from home for a time. That is all."

"Where is she?" Guy demanded.

It took several moments for Stephen to reply. He seemed to purposely delay, taking time to accept a goblet of wine from a serving boy. He sipped his drink – and then at last he answered in a brusque tone.