The Dark Viscount

‘Well, I’d send a note round to Sparrowhawk, if I could spare my man. I wish he would send more prospects out here. I must have a groomsman. Perhaps I’ll ride into the village later.’

‘Don’t bother. I’ll send one of my men with a note,’ Barto said, and Kit nodded in gratitude.

‘Surely the floor won’t take all day. Perhaps he can help me with a few of the shutters when you are finished,’ Sydony said.

Kit shook his head. ‘Your obsession will have to wait, Syd.’

Sydony could not blame him. Still, she felt a sharp sense of disappointment. Perhaps it would clear off later, enough for her to…

‘May I be of service to you?’

Sydony’s head jerked at the sound of Barto’s voice, so smooth, so deep and so unexpected. Her pulse pounded again, inexplicably, as she realised just what he had said. ‘I beg you pardon?’

‘The shutters. Can I help you with them?’

Sydony smiled at the thought of the elegant nobleman toiling like a commoner. ‘Well, perhaps you could volunteer another one of your groomsmen, as it will involve some labour.’

Barto lifted one dark brow in mocking question. The man was insufferable, Sydony decided. ‘But if you are intent upon doing it yourself, you will need some tool to pry them open, for they are all nailed shut.’ Although she expected him to demure, once again, Barto surprised her.

‘I’m sure I can find something to use,’ he said. The dark look he sent her was a challenge, and one Sydony remembered well from her childhood. In those days, she would have returned his bold gaze, rising to whatever dare he put to her.

But now she shivered, her pulse racing once again. Although she nodded in agreement, Sydony refused to meet his eyes, fearful not only of what she might find there, but of her own response.

Chapter Four

Sydony led Barto into one of the bedrooms at the rear of the house with a decided lack of enthusiasm. She was anxious to see the maze, of course, but she would prefer not to be beholden to her guest. The prospect made her uncomfortable, as did extended time alone with her former neighbour.

‘Look,’ she said, pointing to the windows. ‘They are all shut and nailed, as well.’

‘I can see that,’ Barto answered, in a dry tone. ‘But I think I can manage them.’

Sydony recognised the sarcasm, so she waited expectantly. But instead of moving towards the window, Barto set down the heavy pry bar that the workman had provided. ‘You don’t have to stay. I imagine you have other matters that require your attention,’ he said.

Sydony’s eyes narrowed. Was her company repugnant, or did he think to escape an onerous duty as soon as her back was turned? Would he make his valet do the chore? Although just a few minutes before she had dreaded being here with him, now Sydony felt compelled to remain, if only to see the job done.

‘Yes, I do have much to occupy me, but I am too curious as to the outcome here,’ she said, in a dry tone of her own.

One of Barto’s dark brows shot up, and the set of that gorgeous mouth told her he wasn’t pleased. Then why had he volunteered? The man and his motives were a complete mystery to her. He turned away, and, for a moment, she thought he was going to quit before starting. Instead, he began shrugging out of his dark blue morning coat.

‘Excuse me,’ he said, stiffly, ‘but Thompson will have my head if I ruin the material.’

Automatically, Sydony stepped behind to assist him, as she would Kit, but the elegant garment was more fitted and Barto suddenly seemed taller than her brother. Moving nearer, she drew a deep breath that filled her head with Barto’s unique scent and made her lose her grasp. She tried again, pulling the material off wide shoulders and away from a torso that was different from her brother’s. When had Barto grown so hard and muscular?

Sydony found herself staring at his back, and she stepped away, taking the coat with her. But when Barto turned around, her attention was caught by his chest, encased in a subtly designed waistcoat. Lest she stare again, Sydony forced herself to look past his elegantly tied cravat to his face, but his dark gaze captured hers with a ferocity she had never seen before. Breathless and witless, she felt like a stranger facing a stranger, her will no longer her own. That alarming thought jolted her from her trance, and she turned to hide her confusion.

Laying the expensive material over the back of a chair, Sydony smoothed it several times as she tried to regain her composure. What had just happened? Only a lifetime of refusing to back down made her turn around, her heart pounding so loudly she suspected Barto might hear it. Although she was relieved to see that he had started his task, the atmosphere had changed. No longer was he a former friend from her childhood, but some new and frightening creature, capable of affecting her in ways she’d never thought possible.

Skittish now, Sydony wondered if she should leave. She realised that she was alone in a bedroom with a man in his shirt sleeves, and there was no servant even within shouting distance. Not that she expected Barto to attack her, she thought, stifling a hysterical giggle. The very thought was absurd, and yet she had no idea what had just passed between them.

Sydony glanced nervously in his direction as he pried at the shutters with apparent ease. When had he become so strong? She remembered a scrawny boy with a tangle of brown hair, but now his hair was dark and sleek, as was Barto himself. Wary of eyeing him too closely, Sydony occupied herself with walking about the room, removing dust covers and inspecting the contents of a tall dresser, until she heard him speak.

‘I don’t think you’ll be able to salvage these,’ he said, and Sydony turned to see the expanse of glass revealed by his labours. The old window was dirty, and she hurried to wipe at it, resisting a temptation to call the maid from her duties. Although the panes needed proper cleaning, Sydony still could see through them since the rain had stopped. She looked eagerly below, where a mass of greenery caught her eye. It was much larger than she imagined, and, despite being overgrown, there was a definite pattern.

‘There it is!’ Sydony whispered. Filled with excitement, she grabbed Barto’s arm, as she might have years ago, and pointed with her other hand.

‘What?’ he asked, as though startled by her enthusiasm.

Sydony glanced up at him in surprise. Had no one mentioned the hedges? She opened her mouth to explain, but the flicker of interest on Barto’s usually impassive face told her that he had seen it, too.

‘A maze,’ he murmured, and they shared a moment of wonder that made Sydony forget her earlier discomfiture.

‘You’d need a scythe to get through some of the passages,’ Barto said softly.

He was probably right. The hedges were so thick in spots Sydony could not easily discern the path, a twisty, tangled route that made her shiver. ‘But there’s certainly no mistaking the centre,’ she said, awed by the huge tree, obviously ancient, that stood like a sentinel in the middle, its branches spreading out over the surrounding plantings.

‘It’s too wet to go out there now,’ Barto said.

‘Yes,’ Sydony answered. She glanced up at the man standing beside her, and for a moment the years fell away. They shared a look from their past, one that promised adventure and daring, right here in her own garden.

‘Well?’

The sound of Kit’s voice jarred Sydony, and she realised she was standing far too close to Barto. She was still clutching his arm, too. Releasing her hold, she stepped back, just as Barto did, and turned, unaccountably flustered, to face her brother.

‘Can you see it?’ Kit asked. His open expression gave no hint of anything except curiosity.

‘We can,’ Barto said. The tone of his voice made Sydony glance at him, and she realised that whatever had passed between them was gone. His face once again looked impassive—cold, even—and she felt a sharp stab of disappointment.

‘Duece, it’s huge,’ Kit said, moving between them to look out over the lawn.

‘And dangerous. You wouldn’t want to get lost in there,’ Barto said, just as though he hadn’t been tempted to brave it.

‘Yes! Don’t go investigating by yourself, Syd,’ Kit warned.

Sydony frowned. ‘Well, you’re not going without me,’ she said, in an echo of her youthful protests.

Kit laughed. ‘No, we should all go, to try to map it out. But we’ll probably need an army of gardeners to trim the hedges, or we’ll be scratched to death.’

Her brother’s choice of words made Sydony shiver, and the maze that had seemed so intriguing took on a threatening aspect. It was only the gloom of the weather, Sydony told herself as she peered out into the mist. Although the rain had stopped, the trees still dripped, and the constant wind made it appear as if there were movement among the greenery. In fact, Sydony could swear she saw something black in the dark hedges as she squinted through the dirty glass.

‘Syd!’

Reluctantly, Sydony turned away from the panes toward Kit, who must have been speaking to her. But instead of looking exasperated, he wore an expression of suppressed excitement. ‘Come away from the window. I want you both to see what our man found in the library.’

Although Kit was keyed up about something, Sydony was loath to leave the labyrinth she had waited so long to view. Perhaps she could try to put the pattern on to a sheet of paper…But Kit was already heading toward the door, and Sydony watched as Barto snatched up his coat and shrugged into it without breaking his stride. Obviously eager to follow Kit from the room, he disappeared without a backwards glance.

The moment they had shared definitely was gone. In fact, Sydony wondered if she hadn’t imagined it.

Barto moved alongside Kit, intent upon putting some space between himself and Sydony Marchant. He blamed the close quarters for the heat he had imagined between them. She had made her animosity clear since his arrival, and his sudden, unexpected hunger when she removed his coat was no more than a typical male reaction. No doubt, he had gone without a woman for too long, but he hadn’t the heart for it since his father’s death and everything that followed.