Glancing at the table across from her room, she noted the change from sunflowers to lilies before she shut the door behind her. She went round the other side of the bed. She stared at the mattress for a moment before lifting it. Her phone was gone. She spun on her heel and punched the wall.
“Damn it.”
As much as Shea wanted to say that this was just another random burglary, she knew it wasn’t. Whoever the bad guy was he was on to her. And she was willing to bet that Cross’s guards were the ones who’d informed on her because they were the only ones who knew. That meant when they tried to drive out of here later tonight, there was a good chance they were going to have trouble.
She had to get a hold of Brown. She had to let him know what was happening. She flexed her hand that she’d punched the wall with, then turned and left her room. She lifted her skirts and went down the stairs two at a time, before racing to the office. Without bothering to turn on the lights, she went straight to the desk and picked up the receiver on the old phone. There was no dial tone, nothing but silence. She checked to make sure it was plugged and found the line cut.
She stepped back and pinched the bridge of her nose. Well, this was just perfect.
A yell, followed by several feminine screams came from the hall, catching her attention. She left the office and as she continued down the hall toward the raucous noise and as she got closer the distinct sounds of metal clinking against metal.
Turning into the room, that she could now see was a ballroom, a crowd had gathered to watch Hamilton and Daley in a sword fight.
Chapter Twenty-One
Watching the spectacle from across the room stood Asher, Cross, Smith , Gray, and Lee. The audience seemed to be pretty amused but the fencers not so much.
The two men circled the floor, getting closer to where she stood. Hamilton thrust his blade forward, making Daley fall back in her direction. She jumped out of the way, and he knocked into the door, slamming it closed. Her initial shock at what she was seeing was gone, and she glowered. Why hadn’t anyone stopped this madness?
Daley was already back in the fight and pushed Hamilton toward the onlookers with speed and ferocity. The two were really going at it—lunging, thrusting, and whipping one another, showing no restraint whatsoever or, for that matter, amusement. They were angry. This was not a friendly fight, and it was clear that they were both expert swordsmen.
Could this be part of the entertainment? Shea doubted it as the men always took a break after lunch, which meant this was their free time. And if this was their free time, it wasn’t meant to be seen.
She was sure Mrs. Rafferty couldn’t possibly know about this. If she had she’d have stopped it by now.
Hamilton tripped, and Daley whipped him hard on the butt. Hamilton’s eyes flared with fury and he spun back around and landed a blow to the side of Daley’s head. As Daley rejoined she rushed over to Mr. Rafferty. She had to stop this.
She ran around the room, avoiding the fight. “What’s going on?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure.” He leaned closer then, as though afraid someone would hear him. “I think they had some disagreement concerning Miss Gray. She certainly knows how to rile a man up.”
Shea flushed with instant and surprising outrage. These idiots were fighting over her. She turned her glower on Miss Gray and fumed when she saw the self-satisfied smirk on the woman’s face. A cry of pain drew her gaze back to the dueling men. Hamilton retracted the blunt tip of his blade from Mr. Daley’s shoulder. He’d lunged into it, and it couldn’t have felt good. But Mr. Daley, aside from a quick wince, didn’t let that stop him from continuing in the fight and delivering an equally painful blow to Hamilton’s hip.
“You have to stop this!” she said to Rafferty.
“How?” He lifted his hands as if to say I-don’t-know.
She huffed and went to Bayliss and Asher. “Stop them. Someone is going to get hurt.”
Asher lowered his eyes, and when he spoke, he at least had the decency to sound apologetic. “I don’t want to get in the middle of that. Blunt tipped blades or not, you get poked with one of those things, and it’ll leave a nasty welt.”
So much for bravery.
He frowned. “It’s not like they’ll kill each other though.”
Miss Smith shook her head. “It looks dangerous.”
He stepped to the side, where an umbrella holder stood in the corner, holding several fencing swords and scratched his temple. He peered down. “Hey, there are coins in there.”
Mr. Rafferty laughed. “Yes, that’s where the missus hides any unmentionable money we find until we can take it to the bank.”
Lee lifted his hand to Shea, exposing a nasty red scratch across the back. It’d probably be a welt by tomorrow. “I already tried to stop them,” Lee said.
She turned her back on them, fury burst from her core and around her body. The idiots had scratched her partner and hadn’t had the good decency to stop their insanity.
“Miss Shea,” Cross said, a warning tone in her voice.
That was it. She was done with this.
In her peripheral vision, she saw Lee step forward and stop. He knew her too well, but what could he do here? Thankfully, nothing. She looked around the room until she found a stack of wooden chairs. She marched over to them and lifted one from the top. She sat it down and kicked the chair into the middle of the room and between the fighters as she moved. Hamilton nearly stumbled over it, Daley just managed to get out of its way. Just as they rounded the chair, she jumped between them and placed a hand on each of their chests.
“Are you two out of your minds?” she snapped.
Seeing as both were sporting red marks at different parts of their bodies, on their faces, arms, neck, and those were just the places she could see, she figured she already had her answer. They were both startled at her appearance, panting, with red, angry, but now shocked expressions.
“Look at yourselves.” She shook with fury. “If you want to beat each other, by all means, do it, outside. Not in here where someone not involved can get hurt.”
Hamilton had the decency to look ashamed. “You’re right,” he said lowering his blade. “This is not a proper way to behave in front of ladies. A thousand apologies.” With that, he turned on his heel and left the room.
When he was gone, she turned to Daley. His eyes were still narrowed, but now at her, and his jaw was pulsing. This look was even more unsettling and unnatural to her than the frown had been. It was then she realized that everyone in the room was watching her, them, like a movie. Waiting with bated breath to see how this might end. Miss Gray was still smug. Shea shuddered with anger as the woman made eye contact with her and cocked an eyebrow.
She wasn’t saying a word more where that woman could hear it. Instead, she dropped her hand from Daley’s chest and took his hand, then led him out of the room. He came willingly, and when they were finally in the hall, she looked around to make sure Hamilton was nowhere in sight. She did not want them renewing their fight out here.
When she made eye contact with him, the intensity of his blue-green gaze startled her into stepping back and releasing his hand. This was the first time she’d seen his eye color. The first time she’d been close enough. The fury, that moments ago had been so apparent in his features and in his body language, was now gone, replaced by something just as intense that she couldn’t quite pin. Something that made her uncomfortable. She pulled her chin back and promptly forgot what it was she had been about to say to him.
It didn’t end up mattering because he spoke first, his tone guarded. “Now that you’ve dragged me out here, with all your friends as witnesses, there must be something important that you wish to say to me.”
Friends as witnesses? Huh? And why was he talking with such formality? She was tempted to believe this had all been for show, but the livid red mark across his cheek disavowed that belief.
She straightened her spine. “What happened?”
“Nothing wi
th which you need concern yourself,” he snapped.
“Lee got struck in your childish fight, but I imagine it didn’t concern him either.”
“Childish?” he sounded alarmed by the characterization and angry… with her.
She held the high ground. “Yes! You two were beating each other with blades. What did you hope to accomplish?”
He breathed out. “It wasn’t my intention to fight him—”
“I’m sorry that Mr. Hamilton doesn’t care for your lady friend, but that’s no reason to start fights with him.” She fisted her hands on her hips.
He stepped forward into her personal space, but it was enough to make her uneasy. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” she said. “I don’t like her either. You going to fight me too?”
“You seem to have very firm ideas about a fight that you clearly know nothing about.” His tone was frigid.
“Then what was it about, if not Miss Gray?”
“Excuse me; I have a killer headache and no wish to argue with a lady over her fanciful ideas.” With that he passed her, bumping into her shoulder as he headed to the stairs. And for the first time since she’d been here, she felt well and truly dismissed.
Once he was out of sight, she headed in the general direction of the kitchen, the direction she believed Mr. Hamilton had taken. After searching several rooms, she found him out the back door. He stood under a balcony, rain flowing over the sides of it in light curtains. Okay, she stunk at predicting the weather.
“Mr. Hamilton?”
He glanced up at her, and his angry expression immediately dissipated. “Miss Shea? What are you doing out here?”
“I wanted to see if you were okay?” Water splashed up from the steps and onto the hem of her skirt. She backed up a step.
“Aside from being embarrassed I’m just fine, thank you.” His gaze focused on the stables that stood just to the right of them and down. A phaeton rested against a mound of straw getting drenched, and even through the rain, she could hear the baying of the horses.
She pulled her chin back. “Why are you embarrassed?”
His eyes found hers once more. “Because I was caught fighting with the cousin of the woman I most admire, and know that she must now hate me for my brashness and hot temper. Lord knows I’ve shamed myself.”
She swallowed. Where was he going with this? “He’s a difficult man to deal with,” she said knowing it was the truth. Whoever her cousin was, here or in real life, she was sure he was a difficult man. And he enjoyed being so.
“That may be, but that doesn’t give me the right to stoop to his level of recklessness,” he turned to her and took one of her hands in his. “The last thing in the world I would ever want to do is make you think poorly of me, especially when my opinion of you is so high.”
“What happened?” Shea crossed her arms against the slight cold.
He stared out into the rain. “I found him in a compromising position with a certain lady. Harsh words were exchanged, and the rest is, as you say, history.”
A compromising position... Gross. She frowned. She’d wanted to believe this place was above that, though she had no reason to. It was a part of the real world, if not slightly skewed. But she could admit, even if just to herself, that she was disappointed. Revulsion ran through her and she shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked, sidling closer, immediately attentive to her needs.
She shook her head. “You don’t need to worry about my opinion of you. I think highly of you as well, Mr. Hamilton.” And as long as he wasn’t the one conspiring against Cross, Shea couldn’t see any reason for it to change.
“Can you mean that?” he asked, his eyes wide with wonder.
She didn’t think anyone had ever looked at her with wonder before. Well, except for that one time a year ago when Brown had. She’d tackled a crazed drug dealer who’d attacked two other officers before running. She’d hit him, he’d hit that pavement, and that’d been that.
Sure, Hamilton was an actor, but he was a nice one. He’d played the perfect gentleman and had made her feel, in her short time here, like a lady. Clearing her throat, and pulling herself together, she said, “Of course. I do believe you are the finest gentleman here.” There that had sounded pretty good. She ignored the fact that she meant it and instead told herself that it was all pretend. “So, no worries from me.”
She squeezed his hand to comfort him, because despite everything else he had been infuriated with Daley. She was about to leave, when he lifted her hand, turned her palm over and placed a soft kiss in her palm. A shiver ran through her and shot out of every one of her limbs.
“What are you doing to me, Miss Shea?”
Oh, crap. She needed to get out of here, and fast. But she froze in place, her heart pounding in her chest like African drums. She blinked. “Oh, uh….”
He reached up and pushed a strand of hair that had fallen out of her coiffure back behind her ear. “You are so beautiful.”
She grabbed his wrist, but didn’t make him pull his hand back. His eyes fell to her lips, and her breathing quickened. He leaned forward, and her eyes blinked shut.
“I would do anything…”
Her eyes opened once again, and she immediately wished she’d kept them closed when she saw how close he was to her. His hand moved around to the back of her neck, and he pulled her close. She’d seen it coming, but she couldn’t deny her surprise when his lips met hers, causing her breath to hitch.
Red. Red. Red.
Her eyes remained open, and up this close, she could see a little red knick on his cheek, presumably from his fight with Daley. Oh, Daley! She’d come out here to find out what the fight had been about, and now she was kissing Hamilton. For the love of everything holy!
She pulled back.
He rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I first saw you in the hall. Watching your facial expressions as you tried to figure out what you should do with me.”
“You can’t be serious?” This whole place couldn’t be serious. What was she doing? Kissing an actor/possible bad guy.
He laughed, and her heart skipped a beat. “You shouldn’t be so severe on yourself, darling.”
Darling? Ugh, no. That was taking this weirdness too far. She pulled back, and his face fell. “Mr. Hamilton, or whoever you are—”
He gave her a somewhat scolding look.
She forced herself to say what need to be said, but in a Regency way, “I’m only going to be here for one more week—”
“And you’re worried about what will happen after?” He held her hand in both of his.
That wasn’t exactly her concern, but easier to talk about than her discomfort over the fact that this was all fake. “Sure,” she said.
“Please, leave the worrying over that to me,” he said, then kissed the back of her hand and stood, bringing her up with him. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her back toward the house. “Now go, before someone comes looking for you and finds you in a compromising position with a man of recent disrepute.
She grinned but didn’t feel particularly amused. All she felt was confused.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The rain continued through the day and into the evening, slowly picking up speed. There’d been nothing to do for hours before dinner, the time they usually spent outside doing some activity, so Shea had started Pride and Prejudice. She enjoyed it, the characters, the banter, and Lizzy of course, though she still had no intention of letting anyone call her that. She knew it was supposed to be a romance, but so far she wasn’t particularly impressed with any of the men. She’d only managed to get as far as the arrival of their cousin, Mr. Collins. She was finding it hard to read while obsessing over the goings on of the day.
A chorus of lightning and thunder had started at the end of dinner, and it and the rain didn’t show any signs of easing up. Shea hadn’t had a chance to tell Lee about the phones, but they had an unspoken understanding tha
t they would not be leaving tonight. So, instead of Lee going out to get the carriage ready, he’d come into the sitting room with the rest of the group.
Shea sat on the couch, re-reading the same lines of her book over and over as the rain got louder and louder. She couldn’t think in this constant pounding downpour, her makeshift prison, much less read. Cross, Lee, Mr. Asher, and Smith sat at the card table playing a game of whist, and Shea couldn’t help but wonder how Lee had gotten so good at all of this.
The Rafferty’s held hands on the couch opposite her, talking idly. Miss Gray played the piano, and to Shea’s consternation played it well, and Captain Bayliss stared at Smith from his place at the mantle. One thing was for sure, Cross was right about Bayliss and Asher both being completely taken with Smith. They were both so intense it was hard for her to tell what was real and what was real pride fighting for the attention of a beautiful young girl. Though on Shea’s part she was more inclined to favor Asher.
Mr. Daley and Mr. Hamilton were another matter. Both men had cleaned themselves up fairly well for dinner. She might not have known that a fight had broken out between the two of them if she hadn’t seen it herself. The only evidence of anything having happened was the red pucker mark peeking out the top of Hamilton’s cravat on his neck and the slightly pink mark on the side of Daley’s face. Daley’s curly hair covered his mark and had she not known it was there and looked for it, she probably would have missed it.
Everyone had decided, without having to discuss it, that they wouldn’t say a word to Mrs. Rafferty. Hamilton sat to her right on the couch, and Daley sat in the chair at the end of the couch to her left. Hamilton intermittently glanced around the room, joining in conversation with the Rafferty’s and Bayliss, but she could feel the tension between them like electricity. It was making her uncomfortable. Mr. Daley was reading his book, though he seemed to be getting something out of it, while she was barely getting through hers.
Regencyland- The Bristle Park Murders Page 14
