A Daring Liaison(49)

She cocked an eyebrow at him. The man looked as if he’d been born to a race of giants. He was quite tall, with a large nose and hands the size of hams. “Finn, is it?”

“Yes, madam,” he said in a gravelly voice.

“And where did Mr. Hunter find you?”

“I, uh, have worked for friends of his from time to time, madam.”

She was certain she did not want to delve further into that explanation. “Did Mr. Hunter give you instructions?”

“Yes, madam.”

“And if I dismiss you?”

A look of near panic crossed Finn’s face. “Mr. Hunter hired me, madam. I would not go until he gave me leave.”

Then there was no use in trying to send him away. She had visions of this man sitting on her front steps all day, frightening neighbors and passersby alike. She would simply have to deal with Charles tonight. As surly as Hathaway had been, she could not imagine that he would return. Charles was just being overly cautious.

“Are you day help, Finn? Or staff?”

“Staff, Mrs. Huffington.”

“Very well, Finn. Go to the kitchen and introduce yourself to Cook and Sanders. Ask them to assign you a room. I will be in the attic.” At the man’s indecisive look, she hastened to explain. “I am going through my late aunt’s things. I doubt Hathaway will scale a wall in the middle of the day for all the neighbors to see.”

“Mr. Hunter told me to watch for danger from any direction, madam, not just from someone named Hathaway.”

Oh! She never should have told Charles about the man at Vauxhall Gardens. Really, he hadn’t exactly threatened her. Just mentioned that he had plans for her. Hmm. Well, perhaps that could be taken as a bit of a threat. She shrugged. “Very well,” she allowed. “We shall discuss this further with Mr. Hunter tonight. Meanwhile, please try to make yourself inconspicuous.” Though she doubted that was possible for man his size.

He nodded and stepped out of her way as she walked to the stairway. She had no doubt he would come looking for her sooner rather than later and then laughed to herself as she thought of him at La Meilleure Robe this afternoon. Madame Marie would make short work of him, she was sure.

The attic door was unlocked and the narrow windows at each end had been uncovered to allow light to pour through. Yes, Clara had said that Hathaway had been in the attic yesterday. She frowned as she noted that dust covers had been tossed into a heap. Spare furniture had been left bare. Trunks and boxes were open. Someone had been rummaging through Aunt Caroline’s things. Hathaway.

A prickle of fear made her shiver as she looked around more carefully. What could he have been looking for? Hidden treasure or something of value? Something to carry off? Or...or something in particular? More personal?

Georgiana had played up here as a child when she and Aunt Caroline had made short trips to the city to tend business matters. She knew every nook and cranny. Every crate, box, trunk and broken chair. She knew right where Aunt Caroline’s childhood toys were stored. Where the gowns now out of fashion had been kept for their trims and fabric. She knew where her old lesson books were, and the sheet music from her pianoforte lessons.

And she knew something was very wrong.

She turned on her heel and hurried down to the library and the desk where Hathaway had seen her place the pouch with money for household expenses. How foolish of her not to secure it in the safe at once! That money had to last her until the confusion over inheritance had been settled. She opened the drawer and unfolded the pouch. After carefully counting the cash, she went weak with relief. There! It was all there. She sank into the chair and opened the bottom drawer where a heavy lockbox was secured. She removed the key from her chatelaine, opened the box and placed the pouch inside. When it was secure, she sat back and pressed her fingertips to her temples, trying to think.

If Hathaway had meant to rob her, he’d known right where to go. But he hadn’t. Thus, he’d been looking for something more precise than his valise when he’d gone to the attic. But what?

He’d been employed by Aunt Caroline’s father a year before his death, and had stayed on afterward. It was not unreasonable to think that he might have collected quite a few belongings in that space of time. All the servants had their own lockers in the cellar to store their valuables, and Hathaway had been no exception. In fact, he’d had two lockers.

No. Hathaway had not been looking for his own belongings. And that meant that he’d been looking for something quite specific.