The Second Seduction
Page 24
“Billy,” Rosalind instructed.
After another stern look, Billy left. Rosalind tugged
back the blanket that covered Harry’s skinny chest. Th
e boy’s
hands trembled. She smiled, hoping to reassure him. “Let’s
see how your leg is coming along. Have you tried walking?”
He shook his head.
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“You didn’t tell me how you were shot. Did Hawk shoot
you?”
“I don’t know no ‘awk.”
His chest tensed under Rosalind’s touch and his breath-
ing hitched. He lied.
“You know Hawk,” she murmured. “He’s the man that
runs the smuggling ring. Th
e men of St. Clare work for him.
Did he shoot you?”
“No.” Th
e word was whisper soft.
Rosalind decided to push harder before Mrs. Green re-
turned. “Tell me about Hawk.”
Harry’s gasp was loud. “He’ll kill me.”
“He won’t know because I won’t tell. What does he
look like?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me.” Rosalind placed her hands on Harry’s leg. Th
e
vision poured over her. Th
e boy might not tell her, but when
she asked questions, he thought of Hawk. A moment’s sym-
pathy stirred before she forced it away. She needed answers.
Hawk was dangerous . . . to both her and Lucien.
“Is he big? Small? What color hair does he have?”
Harry groaned, trying to move away but the fever from
his leg had left him weak. Even though she felt like a bully,
she maintained a fi rm grip on his leg.
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“I don’t know what he looks like.”
“How do you know the man is Hawk?”
“He wears a mask.”
A mask? Her mind probed Harry’s thoughts. She saw
a tall fi gure dressed in black, a cape swirling about him in
the wind. Rosalind sought his face. Dark hair. Long, tied
back with a black ribbon. Frustration made her want to weep.
Harry was not lying to her. Hawk wore a mask. He had no
idea who the man was under that mask.
A shadow moved in the far corner of the room. Rosalind
gasped, her head jerking about.
Th
e shadow separated from the wall. “Rosalind, what are
you doing?”
“Lucien. What . . . what are you doing here?”
His eyes fl ashed impatience. “My question, I think.”
“I am treating Harry’s leg.”
“Th
at’s not what it sounded like to me.” Lucien’s voice
held sharp disbelief.
“Th
en, why are you asking?” Rosalind snapped.
“So you could do a good job of incriminating yourself.
Have you fi nished here?”
Rosalind folded her arms across her chest and gave a
small, mutinous huff . She tugged the blanket back over Har-
ry’s leg. Th
e wound had healed well despite her initial fears
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that the boy would die. “You need to start walking about to
regain your strength,” she said.
Harry stared at them with huge, frightened eyes.
Lucien took her arm, his grip fi rm. “Come, Rosalind.”
“I have other people to see.”
“Are they sick or are you going to interrogate them?”
Rosalind sniff ed and didn’t bother replying. Drat the
man. It was almost as if he could read her mind. She darted a
look in his direction and discarded any idea of evading him.
“I am treating the ill,” she said, her tone lofty. “I have a foot-
man escorting me just as you instructed, so you don’t need
to wait.”
Lucien bit back a grin, once again wondering why he’d
dismissed his wife as a boring brown mouse. She had more
determination than most men. But, he knew she wasn’t going
to treat the sick. Th
e angle of her chin gave her away. She
planned to question more of the villagers about Hawk.
He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “I’ve talked to
Matthew already. I know you were the subject of another
suspicious accident.”
“But . . .”
“We will discuss this at the castle.” After a nod at Harry,
Lucien propelled his wife from the small cottage. “I sent Mat-
thew back to the castle,” he said.
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Rosalind stopped. An indignant frown creased her brow.
“How am I meant to get back?”
“I will take you.” Lucien led her toward the stables.
Oberon whickered softly in greeting. He stood back to let
Rosalind enter fi rst.
“I am not getting on that brute,” Rosalind stated. She
backed up rapidly until she collided with Lucien’s chest.
“Yet, I found you hiding in Oberon’s stall the other day.”
“Th
at was . . .” she trailed off .
“You lied to me, perchance?”
“I . . .”
“Come, Rosalind. Th
ere is nothing to be frightened of.”
“Have you checked under the saddle?” she asked, still
stalling.
“I intend to do it right now.” Lucien led Oberon from the
stall and deftly undid the girth. He checked under the saddle
and saddle blanket, then buckled the girth again. After ex-
amining the reins and bridle, he tossed his wife up in the
saddle. Lucien swung up behind her and wrapped one arm
around her waist.
“I’ll fall,” she gasped, wriggling about uncomfortably.
“I won’t let you fall,” he promised. Lucien pulled her
slight body close and used his knees to urge Oberon into a
walk. Rosalind trembled, and he felt a moment’s misgiving.
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He still had the bad news to impart.
“What if Aunt Augusta sees me sitting on the horse like
this? It’s . . . unseemly.”
He tightened his hold, drawing her close until she was
almost sitting on his lap, and signaled Oberon to increase
the pace. “Close your eyes,” he murmured, looking down at
her pale face. When her eyes snapped shut, he smiled. Th
e
scent of fl owers rose from her hair, and suddenly he wished
they were not atop his horse. Th
e need to kiss her lips was an
ache in his soul. It wasn’t that he had forgotten Francesca,
or that he no longer loved his fi rst wife. She still resided in
his heart, but to his surprise, he’d found there was room for
Rosalind too.
Th
e trip back to the castle didn’t take long enough. In
the courtyard, Lucien reluctantly let Rosalind down. A stable
lad appeared, and Lucien gave Oberon into his care.
Rosalind still limped so Lucien swept her into his arms
and hustled up the fl ight of stairs.
“I can walk,” she protested.
His wife was predictable when it came to independence.
“If I waited for you, I’d miss my next meal.”
Rosalind huff ed indig
nantly, but Lucien could tell she
wanted to laugh. He strode through the entranceway into
the Great Hall. It was warmer inside and a welcome respite
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
from the stiff breeze outside. A maid bustled about with a
tray of drinks at the far end of the hall. His cousin, Charles,
stood with Justin, Lady Helena, and two young women. Th
ey
looked familiar but Lucien could not recall their names.
“Hello.” Charles’ greeting held a note of surprise.
“Lucien. Rosalind,” Justin said. His languid gaze swept
over Rosalind. “Anything wrong?”
“We’ve been to the village,” Lucien said. Instincts told
him not to talk to his cousin and friend about Rosalind’s
activities in the village. Rosalind wriggled, and he reluctantly
let her down but kept a steadying hand on her arm.
“Are you hurt, Lady Rosalind?” Lady Helena asked.
Lucien frowned at her honey-sweet tones. He’d already
noticed the three young women whispering amongst them-
selves while he spoke to Charles and Justin.
“A twinge in my knee,” Rosalind said.
“Did you fall?” Lady Helena asked. Her face held con-
cern yet Lucien sensed the girl didn’t feel the slightest bit of
sympathy. “Your gown is grubby.”
Rosalind’s lips tightened, and Lucien noted with ap-
proval that her chin lifted in defi ance. She opened her mouth,
but he spoke fi rst.
“We intend retiring to our chambers to rest until the
evening meal.”
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“We are going for a stroll in the garden. It is sheltered
from the wind. Are you sure we can’t tempt you to join us?”
one of the young women said, her mouth a moue of disap-
pointment.
“It’s much more fun with more people,” Lady Helena
said. “Are you sure you won’t come, Lucien? Lady Rosalind
could rest so she is refreshed for tonight.”
Lucien decided it was time Lady Helena was put in her
place. Since the fi rst, she’d made veiled comments about Ro-
salind. He hadn’t stuck up for his wife then, but he could put
that right. Rosalind was lady of the castle now, and as such
had his full support.
“We will see you later,” Lucien stated before scoop-
ing Rosalind off her feet with a suddenness that made her
squeak. He chuckled as he strode away with Rosalind tightly
held in his arms, despite her muffl
ed protests. “I have bad
news,” he murmured.
She ceased her struggles immediately. “Mary?”
Th
e faint tremor in her voice brought out all his protec-
tive tendencies. He wished he didn’t have to tell her the grim
truth but knew she’d settle for nothing less. “I’m afraid so.
Wait until we reach my chamber,” he warned. “I’ll tell you
everything, then. Th
e passage runs throughout the castle and
ends in the North tower. We don’t know who’s listening.”
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
At his chamber door, Lucien used his shoulder to nudge
it open. He deposited Rosalind on his bed and instantly, his
arms felt empty. An uncomfortable thought lodged in his
mind — he was becoming used to seeing her in his bed.
“Tell me about Mary.”
Rosalind’s eyes glittered with stark, vivid fear that tore
at Lucien’s heart. He wanted to lie, to tell Rosalind her fears
were premature, but he couldn’t leave her with hope Mary
would return.
“She’s dead,” he said, his bluntness making him wince.
“Are you sure it was Mary?” Tears throbbed in her voice
and glittered in her pale blue eyes. Her hands were fi sted in
her lap, and she looked like a broken doll.
Lucien was unsure of whether to make an off er to com-
fort her or not. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, feeling inadequate
and useless. More questions would come and he’d have to tell
her the worst.
“We’ll hold a funeral. Mary deserves the best.”
He sat on the bed beside her, pausing to marshal his
thoughts. “I found Mary’s body near the North tower.”
Rosalind grabbed him by the shoulders, startling Lucien
with her strength and intensity. “Mary’s really dead?”
“I’m sorry.” He shrugged, feeling her pain but unable
to do anything to make it stop. “I’ve organized two of the
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footmen to take her to the housekeeper.”
“Are you sure?” Hope lurked in her eyes when she looked
at him.
“Yes.” Lucien reached for Rosalind’s hand. “She had a
head injury and stab wounds in her chest. I’m sorry, Rosa-
lind. Mary is dead.”
She shuffl
ed closer to him then, as if she wasn’t certain
that he’d welcome her. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he
gathered her in his arms, holding her tight as her body shook
with grief.
“We will fi nd out who did this,” he promised. “Th
ey
will pay.”
Early the next morning, Rosalind slipped from the castle
and followed the path leading to the garden. Mary was
dead. Deep in thought, she paid scant attention to her sur-
roundings, aside from pulling her mantle close to ward off
the morning chill. She lifted Noir from her pocket and set
the kitten on the ground. He stalked a shadow, springing
and landing in the midst of a small leafy plant. Dew sprayed
in all directions, and Noir looked so comically startled that
Rosalind laughed out loud before stopping guiltily when she
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
remembered Mary. Th
e kitten sneezed, stuck his nose in the
air and stalked ahead, looking wet and bedraggled.
Rosalind gave a half smile at his antics before retreating
into her thoughts. Lucien had promised her Mary would be
buried in the St. Clare plot on the grounds of Castle St. Clare.
And he’d meant every word. Although he was given to scowls
and bossiness, he had a kind heart. Exactly the qualifi cations
she required in the father of her children.
Rosalind’s hand slipped down to slide over her belly.
How would it feel to carry Lucien’s child? And, would she
ever know?
A gunshot sounded in the distance. She froze like a fox
scenting a hound. Another shot echoed. Rosalind let out a
sigh of relief. Th
e shots were the other side of the castle. Th
e
men had discussed a hunting trip last night.
She continued with her walk, but paid more attention to
her surroundings. A light mist was blowing in from the sea.
Damp but still sparse, the mist let Rosalind see most of the
garden, but obscured the sea. She heard the distant roar of
the waves as they struck the cliff base, and a thrush singing
near the hedge.
Another gunshot sounded, closer this time. Rosalind
frowned. She knew too well how dan
gerous it was to walk in
an area where the men were hunting.
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SHELLEY MUNRO
She looked for her kitten. “Noir!” He’d been there a
second ago. Sighing, she commenced a search. He wasn’t
hiding behind the lavender bush or the unruly box hedge.
“Noir, you little wretch. Where are you?” From the corner
of her eye she saw a fl ash of black. Rosalind whirled about,
snatching at the kitten before he disappeared again.
“Steady on there, Rosalind. I don’t think Hastings would
like you grabbing my legs,” Justin said drolly.
“Oh!” Th
e air hissed from her lungs and hot color fl ooded
her face. She froze in her kneeling position. “I’m so sorry . . . I
didn’t mean . . . .Oh!”
A second chuckle joined Justin’s laughter at her expense.
“Charles!” Rosalind said. Th
e heat in her face intensifi ed.
“I brought my kitten out to the garden and he’s disappeared.
I only took my eyes off him for a second. When I saw the
fl ash of color, I grabbed before I thought. I’m so sorry.”
“No harm done,” Charles said. “Justin probably enjoyed
the attention.”
“Of course I did,” Justin said, his lips tipping upward in
a grin.
Rosalind straightened to see both men carried guns over
their shoulders. “I heard gunshots. Have you been hunting?”
Justin nodded. “We have.”
“No luck though, as you can probably tell. Cook had her
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
heart set on rabbit pie for dinner,” Charles said.
“Is your kitten black, Rosalind?” Justin asked.
“Can you see him?” Her heart leapt in alarm. Although
she wanted to fi nd her kitten, she didn’t want either of the
men to observe Noir too closely.
“Th
ere he is!” Justin moved with a speed that belied his
size. “Got you.” He held the wriggling kitten in one hand,
and Rosalind hurried to take charge of her pet. Justin handed
the kitten over without comment.
“Th
ank you,” she murmured, and thrust Noir safely in
her pocket.
“You and Lucien seem to be on much better terms,”
Charles said without warning.
Rosalind’s head jerked up.
Justin grinned. “It’s true. I never thought I’d see Lucien
smile again, let alone at a woman. He’s not been the same
since he arrived back at St. Clare.”
Charles said, “It will be good to see children at the castle
again. We had fun when we were youngsters. Do you re-
member, Justin? Th