Returning to his task, Ryder saw blood soaking the gray hide, and when he probed gently, he felt the sharp edge of metal. Grasping the offending shard tightly with his fingers, Ryder yanked it out before the horse could do more than squeal.
Ryder held up the bloodstained metal to the sunlight, his jaw hardening as he examined the instrument of torture. An inch-long nail had punched through the rear of the saddle pad, deep into the horse’s flesh.
It must have been hidden cleverly, Ryder surmised, so that at the start of the ride, there was no danger. Eventually the point had worked its way through the pad, and when Eve took that last jump, her weight in the saddle had driven the nail downward, which had set the horse off in a paroxysm of pain.
“Someone planted that dreadful thing beneath my saddle?” Eve demanded furiously.
Looking up, Ryder replied with derision. “Obviously. The intent must have been to cause you deliberate injury or worse.”
Eve gritted her teeth, her gaze shifting to survey the crowd of spectators, who were gaping in various degrees of shock. Wondering if her assailant was among their numbers, she felt a renewed stab of fear—a fear obviously shared by her friend Lydia and her sister, Claire.
“Oh, Eve, not again,” Lydia murmured in horror while Claire eased her horse next to Eve’s and took her hand comfortingly.
“Who the devil could have done such a dastardly deed?” Lord Trafer demanded.
“I don’t know,” Cecil ground out. He had come out of hiding when the entire field had chased after his sister instead of himself. “But by God, if I get my hands on the bastard, I swear I will darken his daylights.”
“You will have to stand in line,” Ryder interjected savagely.
“What do you mean to do now, Evie?” Cecil asked. “Do you want to continue the hunt? You don’t have a horse to ride.”
“By all means we should continue,” Eve said, still shaken.
“You will not continue,” Ryder declared. “You will return home, where you should have remained in the first place.”
Her jaw set mutinously. “I suppose I must, since I have no mount. That poor animal must be returned to the stables so his wound can be cared for. I see no reason, however, to spoil everyone else’s pleasure.”
“I will accompany you home, Evelyn,” Lord Gyllford offered.
“Your assistance isn’t required, your lordship,” Ryder retorted. “You’ve helped Lady Hayden more than enough for one morning.”
Gyllford sent Ryder a nasty look. “And you have overstepped your bounds, Sir Alex. I won’t have you addressing me in that offensive manner.”
“Beg pardon, Lady Hayden,” a low voice called out.
When Eve and everyone else turned their attention to the liveried servant who had ridden forward, she recognized Ned Hitchens, one of her best footmen. Ned and several other male household servants had been pressed into service as grooms for the morning.
“What is it, Ned?” Eve asked.
“I think I might know who done it…rigged your ladyship’s sidesaddle, I mean.”
“Who?” Ryder demanded, stepping closer.
“That gentleman there,” he said, pointing at the viscount. “Lord Gyllford. I saw him fiddling with the saddle pad on her ladyship’s horse before she mounted. At the time, I didn’t ken what he was doing, but now it all makes sense. He planted that nail there.”
Eve felt a ripple of shock. Even though her first impulse was denial, she couldn’t dismiss the accusation, since Gyllford was a chief suspect in the previous attempts on her life. It was only pure chance that he’d been spied in the act this time by one of her trusted servants.
Lord Gyllford, however, sputtered and looked indignant. “That is totally absurd!”
Ryder moved toward Gyllford, grimly eyeing the viscount as he stiffly sat his horse. “Is it absurd?”
“Why, of course! That fellow is a liar.”
“Why would he have cause to lie?”
“ ’Tisn’t a lie,” Ned insisted. “I saw you, milord. You put that nail there.”
“I do not have to listen to these ridiculous accusations,” Gyllford exclaimed, gathering his reins to turn his horse.
“On the contrary,” Ryder said, grabbing the bridle to prevent his escape, “you’ll explain why you would deliberately put Lady Hayden in mortal danger.”
One look at Ryder’s dark expression evidently convinced Gyllford he wouldn’t escape without answering the accusations. “I certainly did not mean to put her in danger,” the viscount retorted. “She was never supposed to be hurt. I would have saved her before it came to that. Indeed, I tried to, but you intervened before I could reach her.”
“You mean to tell me,” Ryder rephrased in a lethal tone, “that you staged that scene because you wanted to play the damned hero and rescue her?”
“Yes, blast you, I admit it. Now release my horse this instant, or I cannot vouch for the consequences.”
Eve stared in revulsion. Lord Gyllford had confessed to engineering a potentially fatal accident with her horse. It stood to reason that if he was responsible for endangering her this time, he was responsible for the other attempts to kill her.
Ryder evidently shared her conclusion, for his expression turned savage as he bit out, “I’ll show you consequences, Gyllford.”
Eve drew a sharp breath as Ryder reached up to grasp the lapels of the viscount’s riding coat and haul him from the saddle.
The nobleman almost fell, but Ryder jerked him upright.
“Keep your filthy hands off me!” Gyllford said, recoiling.
“The devil I will. She could have been killed, you bloody bastard!” Ryder let fly a blow to the jaw that sent the peer reeling to the ground, which made their audience gasp in collective alarm.
When Ryder reached down again and found a stranglehold on Gyllford’s cravat, Eve knew she had to intervene before Ryder did something irrevocable. Still weak from her mad ride, she slid off her mount and hurried over to the combatants.
“Stop, Ryder.” Catching the arm that had drawn back in a threatening fist, Eve held tight. “You cannot kill him.”
“Why not? He almost did the same to you.”
“I know. And I am just as infuriated. But this is not the time or place for revenge.”
His head jerking up, Ryder stared at Eve, his dark gaze locking with hers, glinting with dangerous lights. A growl of disgust sounded in his throat as he released Gyllford’s neckcloth, but he remained where he stood, glowering down at the nobleman. “This isn’t the first time you’ve staged your deadly little incidents, is it?” Ryder said through gritted teeth.
Still cringing on the ground, the viscount licked his split lip. “What the devil do you mean? Of course it is the first time.”
“Don’t lie to me again. I’m just looking for an excuse to perforate your liver.”
“I am not lying, you fiend!”
“Get up,” Ryder ordered.
“Why?” Gyllford asked warily.
“I’m taking you somewhere we can be private.”
The viscount glanced around the watching crowd, apparently realizing he had been shamed before the entire company. Just then Eve noticed both aunts and the duchess hurrying across the field on foot. Apparently their carriage had reached the nearby lane in the middle of the fight.
Spying possible reinforcements, Gyllford lifted his chin in defiance, his bluster returning. “You are mad, Sir Alex, if you think I will go anywhere with you.”
“Do you want to wear your teeth or carry them?” Ryder responded tersely. When Gyllford remained silent, Ryder added in a dangerous tone, “You will come with me, your lordship. I have a good number of questions that need answering, and I don’t intend to continue this public spectacle. Macky, tie his hands in front of him.”
Macky stepped forward with alacrity, pulling off his linen stock to supply a binding.
“No!” the Duchess of Gower protested. “You will not shackle the Viscount of Gyllford like a common
criminal.”
Ryder returned her scornful gaze without blinking. “I’ll thank you not to interfere, your grace. He is very much a common criminal.”
The duchess gave a huff of indignation at having her demand so summarily dismissed. “I will interfere, sir! How dare you raise a hand to your noble betters! You have no right.”
Ryder’s smile never reached his eyes. “A noble title does not excuse attempted murder,” he replied, his tone unrepentant.
“Murder?” Gyllford exclaimed. “It was no such thing! It was a foolish mistake.”
Eve stepped forward, impatient to question the viscount and discover how he had arranged the previous attacks on her. “Lord Gyllford’s cuts need tending,” she said, adopting a soothing tone for the benefit of the duchess’s wounded sensibilities. “I am certain Sir Alex will be kind enough to send for the doctor when he escorts his lordship home.”
Her grace remained unmollified, and when Ryder took the stock from Macky and began binding Gyllford’s hands in front of him, the elderly noblewoman fairly exploded. “This is intolerable!”
Lord Trafer seemed to agree. “I say, Sir Alex, you cannot mean to take a peer prisoner.”
When Ryder gave no reply but grimly continued his task, the duchess’s wrath rose to apoplectic proportions. “Lady Hayden, I cannot believe you would condone such disgraceful behavior as this! I am deeply offended and refuse to remain in your company a moment longer. I shall return to the Park and order my bags packed at once.”
Pivoting on her heel, the duchess stalked regally back to the waiting carriage, leaving a discomfiting silence in the wake of her scathing dramatics.
No one else was brave enough to intervene as Ryder finished binding the viscount’s hands, but Lord Trafer sent him a look of disdain before turning his horse to follow after the retreating noblewoman. Immediately, two of Claire’s other suitors did likewise, clearly signaling their displeasure.
Eve glanced around at the remaining crowd. “Please, won’t you all continue the hunt?”
Cecil shook his head. “Don’t think anyone is in the mood for games just now, Evie. We’d best just all return to the Park.”
Seeing agreement in the expressions of her other guests, Eve nodded. “Very well, then. Have Dunstan see to refreshments when you arrive home.”
Most of the company took their leave, riding slowly back the way they had come. When Lydia would have remained with her, Eve said gently, “Please go with them, Lydia.”
“Are you certain you are all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine, especially now that we know who has been behind these attacks. It is a relief, actually.”
Lydia did as she was asked, and the crowd disappeared, leaving Eve and her family alone, along with a handful of servants as well as Ryder and his prisoner.
Eve asked Ned to lead the gray back to the stables while she rode his horse home. She wondered if Ryder intended to make Gyllford walk, but Macky brought the viscount’s mount over to him.
“Do you need my assistance with his lordship?” Eve heard Macky ask Ryder.
“No, I can handle him on my own. You’ll escort the ladies home,” Ryder ordered.
Drucilla, who had made no move to return to the waiting carriage, sent Ryder a chill glance. “It seems we no longer have need of your services, Sir Alex, now that the danger is over.” Her gaze shifting to Eve, she spoke in a cutting voice. “It is your prerogative, my dear, of course, but I think you should ask Sir Alex to leave before he drives away all of your guests and Claire’s suitors as well.”
Before Eve could say a word, Cecil jumped to his hero’s defense. “You cannot mean it, Aunt Dru! Sir Alex saved Eve’s life!”
“He saved her, true, but at what cost? It was barbaric, beating Lord Gyllford half to death before all our acquaintances.”
“To death? It was only a single blow!”
“But he was set on doing worse damage. You know the saying ‘Blood will tell.’ In this case I believe the adage has proved all too true.”
Without another word, Drucilla picked up her skirts and turned to cross the field to the carriage. Even Beatrice looked uncomfortable before she hurried after her elder sister.
Ryder’s jaw, Eve saw, was knotted tightly as he addressed Macky. “Take Lady Hayden home and don’t let her out of your sight.”
Eve found her voice then. “Ryder, I intend to come with you.”
“You won’t. You’ll go home where you belong.”
She stiffened at his gruff tone, and when he went to his horse, Eve followed, catching up to Ryder before he could mount. “I think I have a right to hear Gyllford’s explanations. I have been terrorized for weeks, and now that it is over—”
“It may not be over.”
She stared at him. “What do you mean? Surely there is no longer any need for caution now that Gyllford has been exposed.”
“Gyllford may not be the perpetrator.” Ryder cast a dark glance at the viscount before lowering his voice to say grimly, “Odds are he is guilty, but I can’t be certain until I have solid proof or a confession. Before I’m done, I mean to drag an admission out of him and persuade him to give up his cohorts. Until then, I want you safe.”
“But, Ryder—”
He cut her off impatiently. “Devil take it, Eve, for once just do as I tell you. If you had remained at home as I asked, you would never have been in such danger today. You were nearly killed.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you blaming me for what happened?”
“In part. Now, go home and stay there until I tell you differently.”
Eve went rigid. “I will do no such thing! I have had enough of cowering…and of taking orders. I won’t have you dictating to me as if you owned me.”
She saw the effort Ryder made to bite back his savage anger. “I am not dictating to you—”
“You are!” She was reacting from pent-up fear and frustration and anger, yet she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “You do not control me, Ryder, no matter how much you have done for me and my family. Furthermore, I believe Drucilla is right. You should leave the Park before you drive away all our guests and Claire’s suitors.”
She might as well have struck him; the pain that flashed in Ryder’s eyes was unmistakable. But he kept his lips pressed tightly together as he stared down at her with brooding stillness. “You are taking their side,” he said finally.
His tone was ice cold, but Eve was too irate to take warning. “I am taking no one’s side but my own. Of course I am grateful to you for saving me once again. You have done your duty exceedingly well, and I sincerely thank you. But I must ask you to go.”
His dark eyes bored into hers until she felt as if he were digging down into her soul. “Of course, my lady,” he said with only a hint of savagery. “I should never have expected anything different from you.”
Ryder swung up on his horse, anger in every line of his hard-muscled form. “I will keep you informed about what I discover from Gyllford.”
Eve watched, still fuming, as Ryder caught up the reins of his prisoner’s horse and rode away. She had not taken anyone’s side.
But perhaps that was the problem: She had not sided with Ryder against the world, as he had always done with her.
It was doubtless still a source of bitterness for him that he had spent his life on the outside looking in, being condemned for his birth and breeding. And now she was banishing him in favor of such supercilious noblewomen as Drucilla and the duchess.
Of course she hadn’t meant it, a voice inside acknowledged.
She started to call after Ryder, to retract her angry dismissal, but he was too far away by now to hear.
Eve gazed after him in dismay, unable to ignore the shameful feeling that she had betrayed him in some irrevocable way.
Chapter
Fifteen
He wasn’t angry, Ryder told himself, forcibly unlocking his jaw. He wasn’t bitter because Eve had reacted with such irrational fierceness. Yet her
demand that he leave her house party had cut deep.
He came alongside the viscount, who was sitting his mount in mutinous indignation, a bloody gash marring the corner of his flaccid mouth. Sweeping out one arm to indicate the way, Ryder said tersely, “After you, your lordship.”
Awkwardly, the viscount picked up the reins with his bound hands and turned toward his estates some five miles distant.
Ryder kept pace with the nobleman, his thoughts brooding. He didn’t regret his violence or that he might have driven her exalted guests away. His fury at Gyllford for putting Eve’s life at risk had been entirely justified. He had, however, been too sharp with her. She hated being controlled, being told what to do, although she was doubtless using his actions as a convenient excuse to avoid further intimacy between them.
Perhaps it would be wiser for him to leave for a time, Ryder mused, to let her resentment cool. If he could be sure the danger to Eve was over, then he would be willing to make himself scarce.
If he did leave, his courtship of Eve wouldn’t be over by a long shot. He would no longer keep it clandestine. He was tired of the subterfuge with her, tired of the secrecy. When he returned, he would simply lay all his cards on the table and make his intentions known to her. He would tell Eve that she was the only bride he would ever want so she could begin to come to terms with his feelings. He would court her openly.
Ryder shook himself abruptly. Just now he had a job to do: discovering the depths of Gyllford’s involvement in the attacks on Eve. He couldn’t simply assume the nobleman guilty of causing the other incidents or convict him out of hand, no matter what his natural instincts were.
If Gyllford wasn’t responsible for the other assaults, as he claimed, then Eve’s assailant would still be out there somewhere, waiting to strike.
“I suggest you consider your story carefully, Gyllford,” Ryder spoke up warningly. “But before we’re done, you will tell me everything about your role in the past attempts on Lady Hayden’s life, including who carried out your orders. You could not have been directly culpable, for you weren’t present for at least one of the incidents.”
Fever Dreams Page 25
