the man.â
âWell, neither do Iâbut I donât think him a murderer. He may be ruthless at cards, perhaps even a cheat, though he played fair with me the other nightâbut I doubt he was involved in my cousinâs death.â
âWell, I wish you good luck, but donât get killed, myboy. I am relying on you to guide my heir if I pop off before he is old enough to manage the estate.â
âI shall be delighted to help young Paul if I can.â
âThat was my hope. You will tell me whatever you discover?â
âOf course. When I am certain.â
âYou have no immediate plans for marriage, I take it?â
âNone at the moment, sir. I am not sure any young woman would put up with me. I have little to offer.â
The earl shook his head. âDo not put yourself down, my boy. Walk down to the estate office with me, Daniel. I have a building project I should like your advice on.â
âWillingly.â Daniel set his glass down. âI shall be pleased to see your plans for the new cottages.â
Â
âWell, Miss Eliza, so we shall be losing you soon.â Mr Jones, the estate manager, smiled at her as she explained her reason for bringing in the letter. âBut you will enjoy living in Bath or London, I dare sayâmore life for you there than here, I imagine.â
âI like being in the country, sir,â Eliza replied. âI shall miss my friends here, but it is time I started to support myself.â
âMrs Jones would have taken you at the house if there were a mistress,â the manager said. âI had a word with her a while ago, but there was only menial work and she didnât think it right that Parson Bancroftâs daughter should scrub floors. She will be very pleased to learn you are to apply for a position as a companion to a lady. She was only saying last night that it was what you ought to do.â
âThat was kind of her,â Eliza replied. She knew the estate manager had let her have the cottage for longerthan he truly ought, because there were estate workers needing a place to live. âGive your wife my good wishes, sir. I should get back now. I want to give Betty a hand with the garden.â
âIâll send your letters later this afternoon,â Ted Wright promised. âTake care now, lass.â
âYes, I shall,â Eliza said and opened the door to leave. She was startled by the arrival of two gentlemen who had been about to enter, flushing as she saw the earl and the man whose horse had almost knocked her down earlier. âI beg your pardon, my lord.â
âNo matter,â the earl said, his eyes narrowing in recognition. âAh, yes, Miss Eliza Bancroft. I was sorry to have to ask you to leave the cottage, but Jones told you we had a family waiting for it, I dare say? And I did not feel it was quite safe for you to stay there alone, considering the situation locally. You will have heard of the missing girls, not girls of quality, of course, but still it is worrying. You have settled in with Wright and his wife, I believe?â
âYes, my lord.â Eliza dipped a curtsy, understanding his reasoning for more than one young village girl had gone missing over the past two years. âI knew I could not stay for ever, sir. Besides, I hope to find work soon, perhaps in London or Bath.â
âWell, that is excellent news,â the earl said. âAh, Jones, I am glad I caught you. I wanted to take another look at the plans for the new cottages.â
As the earl moved off to speak with his manager, Eliza looked at the younger man. His eyes went over her, brows lifted in a question.
âYou are recovered from your fright, Miss Bancroft?â
âYes, thank you, sir. I was not truly hurt at all,â she said, but her heart did a little flip as she caught thepleasant scent of cologne that hung about him. She recalled the feeling that had shot through her when