Deception

Chapter 6

Surprised by Olympia's grim expression, Jared followed her into the library and closed the door.

"What's the matter, Miss Wingfield? Surely you are not overly concerned about the frogs in the Pettigrew carriage?"

Olympia gave him a dismayed look. "That business with the frogs could not have come at a worse moment."

"Why?" Jared watched her intently. "Do you regret your defense of me already?"

"Of course not. You are a member of my staff and as such you are under my protection." Olympia went to the window and stood looking out at the garden. "Mrs. Pettigrew is an extremely unpleasant woman who has a habit of interfering in everyone else's affairs. I do not regret defending your presence in this household for one moment."

"Thank you." Jared studied the proud line of her graceful spine. "I do not believe anyone has ever done that before."

"Done what?"

"Leaped to my defense."

"Oh. It was nothing." Olympia lifted one shoulder in a small shrug.

Jared smiled slightly. "Not in my view, Miss Wingfield."

"Mrs. Pettigrew had no right to attack you in that manner. And neither did Mrs. Norbury, although I suppose one must find some excuse for her. She is not a very strong female."

"Unlike yourself," Jared said. "But even the strongest of females must have a care for her reputation. I collect from what I overheard a few minutes ago that Mrs. Pettigrew is deeply concerned about yours."

"Apparently." Olympia did not turn around.

"What about you, Miss Wingfield?" Jared took a step closer and stopped. He was not certain what to do or say next. No woman's reputation had ever before been in jeopardy because of his actions. Dull, unexciting men of business such as himself rarely got into situations in which they succeeded in being a threat to any female.

"I do not give a fig for my reputation." Olympia clasped her hands very tightly in front of her. "Aunt Sophy always said that a reputation was nothing more than the world's opinion and the world was frequently wrong. The important thing was one's honor and she made it clear that was a private matter between oneself and one's conscience. I am not the least concerned about what Mrs. Pettigrew thinks of me."

"I see." Jared supposed he should be relieved to hear that Olympia was not going to hold him responsible for damaging her reputation. He wondered why he felt no great weight being lifted from his shoulders. "If you are not dispirited because of Mrs. Pettigrew's opinion, then what is the problem, Miss Wingfield?"

"Did you not hear her, sir? She threatened to send my nephews away," Olympia whispered. "She said that they should not be exposed to the immoral influences in this household and that her husband would be willing to pay some distant relative to take them."

"Bastard," Jared said under his breath.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It was nothing, Miss Wingfield. It just occurred to me that Pettigrew is more desperate than I had realized."

"Yes. I was not aware that Squire Pettigrew and his wife were quite so concerned about my reputation." Olympia swung around to face him. Her eyes gleamed with determination. "It might be best if we took the boys out of Upper Tudway for a while. Do you think we shall realize enough money from the sale of my uncle's goods to provide for a trip to the seaside?"

Jared elevated one brow. "Yes, I am quite certain you will have enough money to go to the seaside."

"Excellent." Olympia brightened. "When do you think we shall hear from your friend in London?"

"Any time, Miss Wingfield. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day." It would not take Felix Hartwell long to dispose of Olympia's goods, Jared thought. He only hoped that Hartwell was making some progress on his investigations into the embezzlement matter. Perhaps there would be news on that front when word came of the sale of the Wingfield shipment.

"I am very glad to hear that," Olympia said. "If we remove ourselves from Upper Tudway for a fortnight or so, perhaps Mrs. Pettigrew will calm down. I am also hopeful that Squire Pettigrew will not be overly enthusiastic about the notion of paying someone to take my nephews. He is rather careful with his money."

Jared contemplated the situation for a brief moment. "Miss Wingfield, your plan to take the boys and decamp to the seaside is not a bad one, but I believe it will be unnecessary."

Olympia's eyes widened in surprise. "Why is that?"

"I had intended to pay a call on Pettigrew in the near future. Now that Mrs. Pettigrew has begun making threats, I believe I shall not put the conversation off any longer. I shall call on him tomorrow."

Olympia eyed him with a quizzical gaze. "I do not understand, Mr. Chillhurst. Why do you wish to speak with Squire Pettigrew? What will you say to him?"

"I shall endeavor to explain to him that neither he nor his wife will be allowed to make any more threats or to overset you in any way. In short, I shall tell him to stay out of your affairs."

"Jared. I mean, Mr. Chillhurst, you must not do anything that will cause yourself more trouble." Olympia hurried across the room and put her hand on Jared's arm. "You must consider your own reputation."

Jared smiled briefly. "My reputation?"

"But of course. A tutor must be extremely careful. I shall be most happy to give you an excellent reference when you leave us, of course, but if Squire Pettigrew puts it about that you are a wicked influence on youth, well, there is no telling how difficult it might be for you to obtain another position."

Jared covered her hand with one of his own. "You need not concern yourself with my reputation, Miss Wingfield. I assure you, I will never have any trouble obtaining a living."

She searched his face with troubled eyes. "You're quite certain of that?"

"Absolutely positive, Miss Wingfield."

"Nevertheless, I still think it would be best if we left Upper Tudway for a while."

"As you wish, Miss Wingfield." Jared hesitated. "I assume I shall be going with you?"

Olympia gazed at him in surprise. "Of course. You're part of my household staff. I do not know what I would do without you."

"Thank you, Miss Wingfield." Jared inclined his head in a small bow. "I make every effort to give satisfaction."

"Rest assured that you do, Mr. Chillhurst."

The message from Felix arrived in the morning post. Mrs. Bird brought it to the breakfast table and handed it to Jared.

"Thank you," Jared said.

"Don't get much mail here at Meadow Stream Cottage," Mrs. Bird informed him. She stood waiting, coffeepot in hand.

Jared realized that she was hoping to hear the contents of the letter. He glanced down the table at the row of other eager faces. Olympia and her nephews were watching him expectantly. Even Minotaur appeared interested. Communications from the world beyond the vicinity of Upper Tudway were clearly something of a treat.

"Is the letter from your friend in London?" Olympia asked.

"Yes it is, as a matter of fact." Jared broke the seal and opened the single sheet of foolscap.

"Did Mr. Hartwell sell everything for us, Mr. Chillhurst?" Ethan asked.

"I'll wager your friend got every bit as much as Squire Pettigrew did on the last shipment," Robert said.

"I'll wager he got even more," Hugh declared.

Jared looked up briefly. "You are correct, Hugh."

"Really?" Olympia glowed with anticipation. "Enough to enable us to go to the seaside for a fortnight?"

"More than enough." Jared glanced down at the note and read it aloud.

Robert nearly exploded out of his chair. "Three thousand pounds."

"Three thousand pounds," Hugh echoed in awe.

Olympia just stared in open-mouthed amazement.

Jared gave up trying to read the letter aloud as chaos broke out in the breakfast room. He quickly scanned the rest of the letter in silence as everyone exclaimed in excitement.

Jared frowned thoughtfully as he refolded the letter. He made a mental note to tell Felix to take no action against the captain yet.

He placed the letter beside his plate and glanced up to see that everyone at the table was still in shock from the news of the profit that had been realized on the shipment of goods.

Hugh and Ethan were bouncing up and down in their seats. Robert was giving Olympia a string of suggestions about what could be done with the money. Minotaur had somehow gotten hold of a sausage.

"A bloody fortune, it is," Mrs. Bird said in a dazed fashion. She repeated the phrase over and over again. "A bloody fortune, it is."

Olympia looked torn between delight and dread. "Mr. Chillhurst, are you quite certain there has been no mistake?"

"There is no mistake." Jared picked up his fork and began to eat his eggs. "I assure you, Hartwell does not make mistakes when it comes to money." Which meant that Felix was no doubt correct in his conclusion that one of the Flamecrest captains was responsible for the large sums of money that had disappeared during the past year. But Jared was not satisfied with that answer. He wanted more proof.

"But there must be a mistake," Olympia insisted. "Perhaps he meant three hundred pounds, although even that would be a great sum compared to what we got from the last lot of goods."

"Obviously the market for imported items has improved considerably in the past few months," Jared said dryly. "Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to delay the start of today's lessons for an hour or so."

"Why?" Hugh demanded. "We're supposed to study the properties of clouds and wind this morning."

"Yes," Ethan said quickly. "You said you would tell us how Captain Jack once managed to elude a Spanish vessel because he knew more about meteorology than the Spanish captain did."

"We will get to that eventually." Jared rose from the table and checked the time on his watch. "This other matter must be attended to first." He slipped the watch back into his pocket.

Olympia got up to follow him out into the hall. When they were beyond the hearing of the boys, she put an anxious hand on Jared's arm.

"Mr. Chillhurst, are you quite certain that you are not taking any undue risk by calling upon Squire Pettigrew?"

"Quite certain." Jared plucked his coat from a brass hook. He could feel the weight of the dagger lodged firmly in its hidden sheath. The blade settled comfortably against his ribs as he shrugged into the garment.

Olympia frowned. "Perhaps I should come with you."

"That will not be necessary." Jared was touched. It really was very odd and not at all unpleasant to have someone else take such a keen interest in his welfare. "I assure you I have been looking after myself for some time now."

"Yes, I know, but you are employed in my household and I feel I have a responsibility toward you. I would not want you to come to any harm."

"Thank you, Miss Wingfield." Jared caught her chin on the heel of his hand and brushed his mouth against hers. "But I assure you I am not in any danger from Pettigrew." He smiled wickedly down at her. "There is only one genuine threat that I am aware of at the moment."

Olympia's eyes widened in alarm. "What is that?"

"The possibility that I might burst into flames at any second due to the smoldering effects of unsatisfied desire."

"Mr. Chillhurst." Olympia turned a vivid shade of pink, but her eyes lit with a deep, answering glow of feminine excitement.

"Until later, my sweet siren."

Whistling softly, Jared left Olympia standing in the hall and walked out into the warm spring morning.

"Mr. Chillhurst, wait." Olympia hurried out onto the front steps.

Jared turned around and smiled. "Yes, Miss Wingfield?"

"You will be careful, will you not?"

"Yes, Miss Wingfield. I will be very careful."

Minotaur came bounding around the corner of the house. Tongue lolling, he wagged his tail and looked hopefully up at Jared.

"I'm afraid you cannot come with me this morning," Jared said. "Stay here and keep an eye on things for me. I shall return soon."

Minotaur sat down on the steps and leaned heavily against Olympia. The dog was clearly disappointed, but philosophical.

It was a relatively short stroll to the Pettigrew farm if one cut through the meadow and the patch of trees that bordered the stream. Jared spent the time contemplating the strange turn his life had taken of late.

The scene he had come upon yesterday afternoon in Olympia's library had given him pause. Mrs. Pettigrew's remarks about Olympia's reputation had been annoying, but he was forced to concede that they were not without merit. Jared knew, even if Olympia did not, that they were playing fast and loose with her reputation.

Passion was an amazing emotion, he thought. Now that he had experienced it firsthand, he had the greatest respect for its power. Nevertheless, he was a gentleman and he had no intention of ruining Olympia. Even if she did not seem to mind being ruined.

The yelps of a kennel full of hunting hounds greeted Jared as he walked up the lane to the Pettigrew house. He examined the property with great interest. The farm was obviously a prosperous one. Jared wondered idly how many of the improvements had been paid for with funds that had been stolen from Olympia and her uncle.

Jared went up the steps and knocked loudly on the front door. It was opened a moment later by a middle-aged housekeeper in a gray dress, a white cap, and an apron. She stared first at Jared's eye patch.

"Ye be the new Wingfield tutor they're all talkin' about, ain't ye?" she demanded.

"I'm Chillhurst. Kindly tell Pettigrew that I wish to speak with him."

"He ain't here," the housekeeper said quickly. "I mean, he ain't in the house at the moment."

"Where is he?"

"Around at the stables." The housekeeper continued to gaze at him in rapt fascination. "I'll fetch him for ye, if ye like."

"Thank you. I'll find him, myself."

Jared turned and went down the steps. He walked around the corner of the house and saw the freshly painted stables.

High-pitched, excited voices caught his attention as he passed the open kitchen door.

"It's him, I tell ye," the housekeeper said to someone else in the house. "The new tutor. They say he's a pirate what's been ravishin' Miss Wingfield every night since he arrived there at Meadow Stream Cottage."

"I heard he was living in the old gamekeeper's cottage at the foot of the lane, same as the others she hired," came the tart reply.

"Well, who's to know just where he spends his nights, I ask ye?" the housekeeper retorted. "Strikes me anything could be goin' on there and no one the wiser Poor Miss Wingfield."

"I ain't so sure she's to be pitied."

"How can ye say such a thing? She's a proper young lady, she is," the housekeeper insisted. "Even if she is a bit odd. Not her fault. She was raised odd by them two aunts o' hers."

"I never said she weren't a proper young lady. But she's five-and-twenty and ain't got a prayer of ever gettin' herself married. Leastways she don't as long as she's got those three young hellions to look after. I'll wager she's havin' a grand time bein' ravished every night by a pirate. I can think of worse fates."

"Not for Miss Wingfield." There was genuine shock in the housekeeper's voice. "Ain't never been a word o' scandal about her and well ye know it. No, that bloody pirate is takin' advantage of her, he is. Lord only knows what he's doin' to her at night."

"Something interestin' I hope, for Miss Wingfield's sake."

Jared set his back teeth and stalked on toward his destination.

The scent of hay and manure greeted him a few minutes later as he walked into the shadowed stables. A sleek, well-muscled bay gelding whickered inquiringly and stuck his head over a stall door. Jared ran a critical eye over the expensive looking horse.

The sound of Pettigrew's voice came from a stall at the far end of the dimly lit stables.

"I've arranged to have the mare covered by Henninger's new stallion. He's a prime bit of blood and that's a fact. It'll cost me a packet, but it'll be worth it."

"Aye, sir."

"Did you get a new shoe on the bay's left fore?" Pettigrew emerged from the stall, a riding crop in his hand. He was followed by a short, wiry groom.

"Took 'em down to the blacksmith's yesterday," the groom said. "He's right as rain now, Mr. Pettigrew."

"Excellent. I mean to ride him in the local hunt next week." Pettigrew slapped his leg absently with the riding crop. "Let's have a look at the hounds." He squinted against the sunlight that poured through the stable door behind Jared. "What's this? Who's there?"

"Chillhurst."

"Chillhurst?" Pettigrew eyed him warily. "What the bloody hell are you doing in my stables?"

"I came to have a few words with you, Pettigrew."

"Now see here, I've got nothing to say to you. Get off my land."

"I'll leave soon enough but first there are a few things you ought to know." Jared flicked a glance at the sullen looking groom. "I suggest we have this conversation in private."

"Damned bloody arrogant tutor." Pettigrew scowled ferociously but he sent the groom from the stables with a flick of the small whip.

Jared waited until the groom had vanished through the door.

"I won't take up much of your time, Pettigrew. There are just two points I want to make. The first is that there are to be no more threats made to Miss Wingfield."

"Threats? How dare you, sir?" Pettigrew sputtered furiously. "I have never threatened Miss Wingfield."

"No, I believe you had your wife do the job for you," Jared said. "It does not signify. The only thing you need to remember is that the threats are not to be repeated, let alone carried out."

"Damnation. You're gettin' a bit above yourself, you bloody upstart bastard. What the devil are you talking about?"

"You know very well what I am talking about, Pettigrew. Miss Wingfield was told that unless she got rid of me, her nephews would be sent away."

"Miss Wingfield should get rid of you immediately," Pettigrew blustered. "You can hardly claim that you're a good influence on impressionable young boys. Or on an impressionable young woman, for that matter."

"Be that as it may, I shall be remaining in my position in the Wingfield household. And if you so much as even attempt to have the boys removed from Miss Wingfield's care, you will regret it."

Pettigrew narrowed his eyes. "I have known Miss Wingfield for years, sir. Indeed, I counted myself a friend of her aunts. I feel a responsibility to do what I believe is best for Miss Olympia. Furthermore, I do not intend to let you intimidate me, Chillhurst."

"But I am going to intimidate you." Jared smiled slightly. "If you make one move to take the boys away from Miss Wingfield, I shall see to it that the manner in which you have been systematically cheating her becomes public knowledge."

Pettigrew stared at him in slack-mouthed shock. A dark red flush suffused his heavy face. "How dare you accuse me of cheating her!"

"Easily enough, I assure you."

"It's a damnable lie."

"No," Jared said. "It's the truth. I am well aware of the contents of the previous shipments of goods which you handled for Miss Wingfield. They were similar to the contents of the one I disposed of for her. They should have fetched a similar amount, somewhere in the neighborhood of three thousand pounds and I'll wager they did."

"That is not true," Pettigrew hissed.

"You stole that money, Pettigrew."

"You cannot prove a thing, you bastard."

"Ah, but I can. I have an acquaintance in London who could quickly discover all the facts. And I will instruct him to do so if you do not make good on what you owe Miss Wingfield."

Pettigrew's face contorted with fury. "I'll teach you to threaten me, you bloody bastard." He raised the riding crop and brought it downward in a swift, slashing movement aimed at Jared's good eye.

Jared blocked the blow with one arm. He jerked the whip from Pettigrew's hand and tossed it aside in disgust. Then he reached inside his coat and slipped the dagger from its sheath.

He shoved the stunned Pettigrew back against a stall door and held the tip of the blade to his throat. "You have offended me, Pettigrew."

Pettigrew could not take his eyes off the dagger. He licked his lips. "You cannot do this. I'll have you taken up by the magistrate. You'll hang, Chillhurst."

"I doubt that. But you are certainly free to speak to the magistrate if you wish. First, however, you will make out a draft to Miss Wingfield for the money that you owe her from those last two shipments."

Pettigrew shuddered. Desperation appeared in his eyes. "I haven't got it. Already spent it."

"On what?"

"See here," Pettigrew whispered. "You do not understand. I needed the money from the first shipment to pay off some debts of honor."

"You lost Miss Wingfield's money in a card game?"

"No, no, I lost my farm in the damned card game." Sweat beaded Pettigrew's brow. "I thought I was finished. Ruined. And then Olympia came to me for advice on how to dispose of a shipment of goods her uncle had recently sent to her. It was like the answer to a prayer."

"Your prayers, not Miss Wingfield's," Jared said.

"I meant to pay her back as soon as everything came right." Pettigrew gave Jared a beseeching look. "Then the next shipment arrived and I realized I could make a variety of improvements to my farm."

"So you could not resist stealing the second shipment." Jared smiled thinly. "And you have the gall to call me a pirate."

"With the new improvements the farm will be much more productive," Pettigrew said earnestly. "I shall be able to reimburse Miss Wingfield very quickly."

Jared nodded toward the expensive gelding. "Was the bay one of the necessary improvements you felt obliged to make around here?"

Pettigrew was incensed. "A man's got to have a proper horse for the hunt."

"And what about that new landau your wife arrived in yesterday?"

"She has her position in the village to maintain. Look here, Chillhurst, I shall be able to pay Miss Wingfield back within a year or two. I swear it."

"You will begin paying her back immediately."

"Damnation, man, I haven't got the blunt."

"You can start raising the necessary by selling that bay gelding. He'll bring four or five hundred guineas at least."

"Sell the bay? Are you mad? I just bought him."

"You will find a buyer for him," Jared said. "And when you have sold the gelding, you had best find someone to purchase the landau. I calculate that you owe Miss Wingfield nearly six thousand pounds."

"Six thousand pounds?" Pettigrew looked dazed.

"You have two months to come up with the money."

Jared released Pettigrew. He sheathed the dagger, turned, and walked back out of the stables. Outside he noticed Pettigrew's sullen-eyed groom watching him from the kennels.

Jared hesitated as a thought struck him. He walked over to stand directly in front of the groom.

"You left muddy footprints on Miss Wingfield's carpet night before last," Jared said casually. "And you knocked over her brandy decanter. I should probably make you pay for the window latch that you ruined just as I am making your employer pay for the monies he stole."

Shock lit the groom's eyes. He gaped at Jared and then began to stammer wildly. "Now, see here, I don't know what yer talkin' about. I wasn't in Miss Wingfield's library last night or any other night. I swear I wasn't. I don't care what the squire says."

"Did I say the footprints and the decanter and the broken latch were in her library?" Jared asked politely.

The groom's eyes widened in horror as he realized he had fallen into the small trap. "It weren't my fault. I was only doin' what the squire ordered me to do. I didn't hurt anyone. I would never have hurt anyone. I was just lookin' for somethin' the squire wanted, that's all. He said he'd dismiss me if I didn't look for it."

"What were you searching for? A letter, perhaps?"

"Papers," the groom said. "He told me to bring back any notes or letters and such pertaining to financial matters that I found in her desk. But I never had a chance to get into the bloody thing. The damned dog barked and then I heard sounds upstairs and I got out of there."

"Stay out of there," Jared advised. "The next time you try anything of that nature you will very likely trip over me instead of the brandy decanter."

"Yes, sir. I won't go near the cottage again." There were certain advantages to having the face of a pirate, Jared thought as he walked back toward Meadow Stream Cottage. People tended to take one seriously.

Jared went up the steps of the cottage, opened the door, and was greeted with a scene of chaos and confusion. He had only been away an hour and already the household had fallen into an uproar. Jared smiled wryly. A tutor's work was never done.

Minotaur yelped excitedly as Jared walked into the hall. Ethan and Hugh called loudly to each other as they hauled a large, dusty trunk down the stairs. Robert shouted instructions from the landing. He grinned widely when he spotted Jared.

"Mr. Chillhurst, you're back. Aunt Olympia says we won't be having our lessons today. We're to pack for the journey."

"I see your aunt has determined to set out for the seaside without delay." Jared was amused by Olympia's decisiveness. She was certainly determined to whisk her little household to safety.

"No, no, Mr. Chillhurst." Ethan struggled with his end of the huge trunk. "We're not going to the seaside after all. We're going to London."

"London?" Jared was startled.

"Yes. Isn't it exciting, sir?" Hugh grinned. "Aunt Olympia says that since we now have a packet of money, we are going to use it to go to London. We've never been there, you see."

"Aunt Olympia says the trip will be very educational," Robert explained. "She says we shall visit museums and see Vauxhall Gardens and do all sorts of things."

"Aunt Olympia says there will no doubt be a fair underway in one of the parks and we may see fireworks and eat ices and see a balloon ascension," Ethan added.

"She says we shall probably go to a theater called Astley's where they have acrobats and magicians and trained ponies," Hugh offered. "She read about them in advertisements in the London papers."

"I see." Jared's brows rose as Mrs. Bird appeared with a stack of folded shirts. "Where is Miss Wingfield?"

"In the library." Mrs. Bird looked glum. "Lot of nonsense, this is. Don't see why we cannot stay put like normal folk. No need to go chasing off to London."

Jared ignored her. He walked into the library and closed the door. Olympia was seated at her desk, her head bent over a copy of one of the London papers. She glanced up quickly when she heard him enter the room.

"Jared. I mean, Mr. Chillhurst, you're back." She studied him anxiously. "Did all go well?"

"Squire Pettigrew will not be bothering you or the boys again. I will explain it all to you later. What is this about a trip to London?"

"A famous notion, is it not?" Olympia smiled brilliantly. "It occurred to me that with the three thousand pounds we received from my uncle's shipment of goods, we can afford to go all the way to London. It will be a wonderful experience for the boys and I shall be able to use the time to do some research on the diary."

"Research?"

"Yes. I would like to consult some maps of the West Indies that belong to the Society for Travel and Exploration. The diary makes reference to an island which I cannot seem to locate on any of my own maps of that region."

Jared hesitated as he swiftly calculated the potential problems involved in a journey to London. "Where do you plan to stay?"

"Why, we shall take a house for a month. It should be a simple matter."

"No."

Olympia blinked, astonished. "I beg your pardon?"

Jared realized he had momentarily forgotten his position in the household. He was supposed to take orders from Olympia, not give them to her. Unfortunately giving orders was an old habit.

"A trip to London at this particular juncture strikes me as a very unsound notion, Miss Wingfield," he said carefully.

"Why is that?"

"For one thing, I would be obliged to find lodgings, too. They would most likely be located at a considerable distance from the house you obtain. I do not care for the thought of you and the boys being alone at night in London." He paused delicately. "Not after what happened here two nights ago."

"You mean that business of someone creeping about my library?" Olympia frowned in thoughtful consideration.

"Precisely," Jared said smoothly. "We cannot take any chances, Miss Wingfield. Here in the country I am only a short distance away down the lane. I can hear you if you call for help."

It was only one more small deception, he assured himself. He would tell her soon enough that he was certain last night's intruder had been Pettigrew's groom. In the meantime he needed an excuse to avoid this harebrained trip to London.

Olympia hesitated and then a look of satisfaction appeared in her eyes. "The solution is obvious. You shall stay with us in town."

"With you? You mean in the same house?" Jared was staggered at the thought.

"Of course. There is absolutely no need to go to the extra expense of paying for separate lodgings for you. It's a waste of money. Furthermore, if we must take steps to defend ourselves against this Guardian person, whoever he is, then you should be near at hand at all times."

"Near at hand," Jared repeated blankly.

"Under the same roof," Olympia said helpfully.

"I see." The same roof.

The notion of spending his nights under the same roof as his lovely siren was enough to take away his very breath. He would no doubt sleep in a bedchamber next to Olympia's. He would hear her when she got dressed in the morning and listen to her get undressed at night.

Jared's mind churned out a myriad fascinating visions. He would see Olympia in the hall when she was on her way to have her bath. He would join her on the stairs when she went down to breakfast or a late night cup of tea. He would be near her morning, noon, and night.

He would go mad, he thought. His passions would consume him. He would have every opportunity to abandon himself to the siren's call.

It would be heaven living under the same roof as Olympia.

Or hell.

"Is there some problem with my plan, Mr. Chillhurst?"

"I believe so." For the first time in his entire life Jared found it extraordinarily difficult to think clearly and decisively. "Yes. There is a problem."

Olympia tilted her head inquiringly. "What is it?"

Jared drew a deep, steadying breath. "Miss Wingfield, need I remind you that your reputation in this district is already hanging by a thread? If I go to London with you and reside under the same roof, you will soon have no reputation left at all."

"My reputation is of no concern to me, sir, but I am aware that we must take care to protect yours. After all, as I pointed out earlier, you cannot afford to have gossip follow you to your next position."

Jared seized on that argument. It was the only one she seemed willing to concede. "An excellent point, Miss Wingfield. Gossip can be quite harmful to a tutor, as you so wisely noted."

"Have no fear, sir. I would not dream of jeopardizing your reputation." Olympia smiled reassuringly. "But I do not see that there is any difficulty here. After all, no one in Upper Tudway will know we are staying in the same house in London."

"Ah… well… yes, there is that, however—"

"And no one in London knows you, either, except your friend who disposed of Uncle Artemis's goods. Surely he will not gossip about you."

"Ah… well…"

"It is not as though we shall be going about in social circles. Indeed, we shall be quite anonymous in the crowds that throng a large city such as London." Olympia chuckled. "Who would even notice us, let alone gossip about us?"

Jared struggled to inject some common sense into the situation. "The landlord of the house you propose to rent, perhaps? The members of the Society for Travel and Exploration whom you plan to contact? Any number of people might talk about us, Miss Wingfield."

"Hmmm." Olympia tapped her quill gently against the desktop.

Jared did not care for the expression on her face. "Miss Wingfield, allow me to tell you that a young woman in your position simply cannot—"

"I have it," she declared suddenly.

"Have what?"

"The perfect answer. If we are discovered and your reputation appears to be in danger, we shall pretend to be a married couple."

Jared stared at her, stunned into speechlessness.

"Well, sir? What do you think?" Olympia waited expectantly. When Jared failed to respond, she prompted him gently. "Do you not think it an extremely clever scheme?"

"Ah… well—"

"Come now, Mr. Chillhurst. It is the logical thing to do, not only for the sake of economy but for the sake of efficiency and safety. There really is no other intelligent solution to the problem."

Jared wanted to inform her that intelligence was a commodity that was singularly lacking in this matter but he could not seem to find the words. The thought of not only living in the same house as Olympia but of pretending to be married to her was dazzling him to the point of lunacy.

The siren's song had rendered him mad.

"What will you tell your nephews?" he finally got out.

Olympia scowled briefly as she mulled that over for a few seconds. Then her glorious smile returned in full force.

"They need know nothing about it, of course," she said. "It is highly unlikely that they would come into contact with any adults who might think to question them in depth on our connection. You are their tutor, nothing more nor less. No one will pry further. Is that not correct?"

"I suppose so," Jared agreed reluctantly. Adults rarely came into contact with young children.

"And we will not be entertaining visitors so there will be no problem from that quarter," Olympia continued with enthusiasm.

"We are headed for disaster," Jared muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Mr. Chillhurst?"

"Nothing, Miss Wingfield. Nothing at all."

And there, in the blink of an eye, Jared thought, went the benefits of a lifetime's cultivation of common sense, practicality, and sober consideration.

He was no longer the man he had been some days ago; no longer the levelheaded, unimaginative man of business who had innocently set out to buy a stupid diary with the pragmatic intention of keeping the rest of his family out of trouble. He had become, instead, a man in the grip of an all-consuming desire; a man soaring on the wings of passion. He was a poet, a dreamer, a romantic.

He was an idiot.

Matters would have been so much simpler if he had not abandoned his quest for the diary in favor of answering the siren's call.

Jared looked at Olympia's lovely, hopeful face and heard the crash of waves against the rocks. He mentally consigned himself to his fate.

"I see no reason why your plan should not work, Miss Wingfield. It sounds like a logical solution to the problem and at the same time it will give your nephews the benefit of an educational experience."

"I knew you would see the cleverness of my scheme."

"Quite right. And you need not trouble yourself with finding a house to let. As your man of affairs, I shall arrange for a suitable residence."

"Thank you, Mr. Chillhurst. I do not know what I would do without you."