‘He will come round in time, I am sure,’ she said, imagining how easy it would be to hide Caesar and Cleo on several acres of a country estate.
‘Even if he does not, I am sure you have no reason to worry. He and his mate have been thriving here and will continue to do so.’ Now Cleo had found Mr Solomon’s other boot and was worrying at the toe of it, her crooked fangs making equally uneven gouges in the leather. It surprised her that Mr Solomon seemed more amused than bothered. He was staring down at the dog with an indulgent smile.
She smiled as well, though still worried. ‘The staff loathe him and would be glad to see him gone. He has been so much trouble for so long. And as I said before, I worry that my brother might act rashly, should I anger him.’
‘Surely not!’ Did Mr Solomon truly not understand who had hired him? He looked up to give her a direct stare. ‘I do not think your brother is the sort to kick a dog in a fit of pique. It is far more likely that he will give me a good thrashing for letting you get away.’
She had not thought of that. There was a much more satisfying object to bear the brunt of Hugh’s anger, should she finally escape. With the idea came an unpleasant foretaste of guilt. Mr Solomon’s successes at thwarting her thus far had been annoying, but that did not mean she wanted him to be punished when she finally succeeded, any more than the dog. ‘I trust you will be clever enough to stay clear of him, should I manage to best you.’
‘I will, and you will not,’ he said with a firm smile, shaking Cleo free from his boot and lifting her in the air for a pat.
She shrugged, then reached down to pet the other dog. ‘All the same, Caesar is not well loved in this family. I would prefer that you took him, or at least one of the puppies that are likely to appear.’
Mr Solomon glanced at the thickening dog in his hand. ‘Puppies?’
‘Of course,’ she said with a laugh. ‘They cannot seem to leave each other alone. It is only since I have got Cleo to keep him company that Caesar has become the adorable animal you see here.’ She smiled down at her pet. ‘Love has changed him.’
Solomon laughed. ‘Dogs do not fall in love.’
She blinked in surprise. ‘This dog has.’
Mr Solomon gave her a pitying look. ‘I am sorry to be the one to explain this to you, but the emotion he experienced is far more base and animalistic than you’d like to think.’
‘I know my dog far better than you,’ she said, giving him her frostiest glare. ‘And he loves Cleo as much or more than he ever loved me.’
He shook his head. ‘You are attributing an emotion to the little fellow that I have yet to see in people, so I have my doubts.’
It was her turn to laugh. ‘You speak as if you don’t believe in love at all.’
‘Why should I?’ he said, giving her a blank look in return. ‘I have never felt it.’
‘Your mother obviously loves you,’ she said, smiling.
‘That is not the sort of love I am talking about,’ he replied.
‘She also seems to be quite the romantic,’ she said.
‘My mother is quick to talk of love in relation to a man who might be no more real than the rest of her stories. It appears that he got what he wanted from her and left.’ He ticked off two of his fingers to demonstrate, then raised a third and fourth. ‘I suspect you think yourself in love with Clement. But your eagerness to elope has more to do with escaping your brother than anything that gentleman offers.’ Then he focused on her, his gaze travelling slowly up and down, making her shiver. ‘It is clear what he sees in you, and it has nothing to do with love.’
Perhaps he was right. The touch of his eyes on her body raised something in her that had nothing to do with love as she understood it. Despite the fact, she wanted more of it, like some illicit drug shared in a den of sin. That was reason enough to deny it. She was sure, if she succumbed, this Mr Solomon would disappear afterwards, just as his father had.
She straightened and shook off his gaze with a full-bodied shudder of mock revulsion. ‘That is what you think, is it? Proof enough that you should keep your opinions to yourself, Mr Solomon. Now, will you take a dog, or not?’
His eyes hardened. ‘The day you marry Alister Clement, I will take all the dogs you have to offer and a clowder of cats as well. But that day will never come, so neither of us need worry about them.’
‘It will come,’ she insisted. ‘Sooner than you think.’ But, even as she spoke the words, the old panic was rising, making her wonder if what he said was true. Suppose she did not love Alister, and he did not love her? When she woke at night in the throes of a nightmare, she needed the reassurance that only a lover could offer. She needed someone full of hope, who would tell her that the past was the past and the future would be all right. And a man who would wait for years had hope in his heart, if nothing else.
But she did not know when or if she would see Alister again, and what he would say to her when she did. And if he did not love her, any words she might hear from Mr Solomon were not worth the breath it took to say them. She could not count on him to stay any longer than his father had.
‘Alister loves me,’ she said, as much to herself as to him. ‘We will get away from you. And when that happens, you will be sorry.’ Then, before tears could overtake her, she hurried back to the house.
CHAPTER EIGHT
That night, the dream came back again.
She was standing in the doorway of her father’s study, ready to wish him goodnight. But he was already asleep, his head cradled in his folded arms on the desk. She laughed and told him he was silly to be here, when there was a warm drink and a soft bed waiting upstairs.
Then she came forward and reached to shake his shoulder. Instead, she felt the knife and the wetness spreading on his coat.
She screamed, or at least tried to. The only sound she could manage was an eerie whisper of what the real scream had been. That night, it had gone on and on and she could not seem to remember how it stopped. Suddenly she was back in her bed, frozen and unable to move, her mouth still open as she struggled for breath that would not come.
It ended in a gasp and she sat bolt upright, shaking. In the darkness, she reached out for someone before remembering that she was alone. When Peg was still in the house, she would sometimes creep down the hall and climb into bed with her, eased by her sighs and snores, happy to know that there was someone sleeping close by.
But Peg was gone, and she was alone. So she did the only thing she could and lay back down, closing her eyes tight and hugging herself, imagining the arms belonged to Alister, imagining the comforting words he would whisper in her ear to ease her back to sleep.
But tonight, instead of hearing Alister’s voice in her head, she heard Michael Solomon. She felt his arms around her, stiff and awkward at first, then tightening to hold her and finally muttering, ‘There, there,’ as he had the last time he had stopped her elopement.
And, against all intentions, she fell back into peaceful sleep.
* * *
The next morning Michael chose to walk to his assignment, though it was nearly five miles from Cheapside to the Scofield townhouse. He needed something to clear his head from the difficult night’s sleep gained after speaking with Lady Olivia in the garden.
He had doubted the Duke’s objections towards Clement at first. But it seemed that the peer was not so much an overprotective brother as he was an astute judge of character. Clement was in no way worthy of the woman who had fallen in love with him.
Though he had never owned a pet of his own, he understood the affection that many owners had for them. The idea that Clement would separate Olivia from the animals she was so fond of was anathema. It was clear that he had both the land and the money to take them in. But he had lied to her, allowing her to believe otherwise.
It made Michael wonder what other desires on the part of the lady would be viewed as inconvenienc
es by her future husband. Granted, a man had rights, both legal and moral, to set what limits he chose on the behaviour of his spouse. But Michael had never understood the pathological need some men had to set boundaries.
If he were marrying such a woman, he would allow her to keep as many dogs as she wished. Of course, he had no intention of marrying, ever. Even if he did, it would not be to Lady Olivia Bethune, who would not have him, even if he asked.
But she did like him well enough to trust him with her dogs. It was an unexpected show of faith that made him feel strangely happy. Along with her childish optimism about love amongst the canine species, it was quite endearing.
Which made it all the more galling that she was wasting herself on Clement. If they married, he would have her firmly under his thumb in a way that was much more restrictive than anything she had known from her brother. And he would do it secure in the knowledge that it was his right as husband.
Michael’s lip curled at the thought. It was the way of small men everywhere to make themselves feel larger by subjugating the women in their lives. No matter Scofield’s motive in preventing the marriage, Michael had his own reason for helping. He would save Olivia, whether she wanted it or not.
But what was he saving her for? That was the question. Not for himself, surely. If he wished a woman, there were easier ways to get one than forming a permanent attachment. And even if he decided to marry, he would have to look far lower than the sister of a duke. His income was sufficient for keeping her in pug dogs, but not much else. And that did not even cover the fact that her brother would murder him before he got the offer fully out of his mouth.
‘Excuse me, sir.’ A stranger was approaching, and Michael gave an acknowledging nod and stepped to the side, assuming he wished more of the pavement to pass him by.
Instead, the fellow turned as they came abreast and walked along at his side.
It was odd. He’d have expected and guarded against such behaviour in a bad neighbourhood at night. But he did not expect it from a properly dressed gentleman walking in Mayfair. Other than his manners, there was nothing suspicious about the man now walking beside him. He was dressed in a smartly tailored coat and a gold watch chain spread across his waistcoat, hinting at both wealth and taste. Though Michael was sure he had never seen the man before, there was still something familiar about him that could not be placed.
‘A fine day, isn’t it?’ the man began. He sounded faintly anxious, though the words were innocuous enough.
‘Indeed,’ Michael replied, still unsure of why they were speaking at all.
‘You are Michael Solomon, are you not?’
‘I am,’ he said, annoyed. ‘But I do not believe I know you, sir.’
The snub should have been enough to send him away. Instead, the man laughed nervously and continued to keep pace with him. ‘Of course not. It has been a long time. Too long for you to remember me, I am sure. I am... I was...acquainted with your mother.’
The audacity of the man, to claim a connection in such a way. Michael picked up his pace and kept his eyes straight ahead. The Scofield townhouse was less than a quarter mile away and he could not have a complete stranger trailing him into the garden.
‘I am aware that you live with Maria in Gracechurch Street, and am eager to pay her a visit.’
Michael snorted. ‘Do you wish my permission to do so? If you are a friend of such old standing, I think she can decide for herself.’
‘I was hoping that you would tell me the number,’ he said, then waited expectantly.
‘Certainly not,’ Michael replied. ‘If you do not know her direction, you will not have it from me.’
The man stopped short, and when Michael continued to walk, called after him, ‘Have you not realised who I am?’
‘No,’ Michael called back over his shoulder. ‘Nor do I wish to know. Good day to you, sir.’
He hurried down the street, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that the man had raised in him. After the interview in the Duke’s study, he suspected Scofield was spying on him. But it made no sense to send someone who would ask after his mother. If the man truly was an acquaintance of hers, Michael could not remember ever seeing him, nor had his mother announced that she was expecting company.
He arrived at the Scofield townhouse a short time later, only to find the place in an uproar. The butler rushed up to him when he was barely through the gate. ‘It is Lady Olivia, Mr Solomon. She has been taken!’
Michael calmed the man enough to get the full story from him, not that there was much to tell. The night guard had already gone, and he had not yet arrived. Lady Olivia had been feeding her dogs when a masked man appeared and grabbed her, covering her head with a cloth bag before rushing her to a waiting carriage and driving away. Further questioning revealed that the man was about the right height to be Alister Clement, and the carriage was a yellow post-chaise, missing paint on the left rear wheel.
The incident was his fault, for taking the time to walk. If he had been here, he might have stopped the trouble before it started, as the Duke wished him to. Now he would have to hurry to catch them up. He called for a horse from the Duke’s stable and headed for the north road, praying that Clement had not decided to get inventive in his navigation.
* * *
In the carriage, Liv struggled free of the cloth over her face and the panic that accompanied it. It was some slight relief to see Alister in the seat beside her, beaming in triumph. But it hardly made up for her racing pulse, and the fear that her brother had finally gone mad and she was about to end up like her father.
‘You needn’t have grabbed me,’ she said, rubbing feeling back into her arms and wrapping them around her body to stop the trembling. ‘I’d have come with you willingly if you had just asked.’
‘I wanted it to be spontaneous,’ he said, still smiling and oblivious to how badly he had frightened her. ‘Solomon has been able to keep up with us so far. But this time he will have had no chance to ascertain the time of our departure.’ There was a certain accusatory tone to this statement that she did not appreciate.
‘He was not getting the information from me, if that is what you are thinking,’ she said, annoyed. ‘The first time he guessed, and the second time he found your note.’
‘And today there was no time for you to prepare,’ he said. ‘And no time for him to be ready either.’
That meant that she had left her meagre possessions behind. She remembered the day her sister had run off with Mr Castell with nothing but the clothes on her back. There was no evidence that she regretted the act. Her bedroom was just as it had been when she had left. As far as Liv knew, she’d made no effort to call for anything she’d forgotten.
Of course, she did not have dogs. And she had left a sister behind to take care of anything important that had been forgotten.
But Alister was probably right. This time, since there had been no warning at all, it was unlikely that Mr Solomon would be able to catch up with them. Why then was this not making her happier? The fact that she would not see that man again should make her light-headed with freedom. Instead, it seemed like another loss. Perhaps there would be some way she could find him later to say goodbye.
And then she remembered he had promised to take all of her dogs, and a clowder of cats, should she manage to best him. She was not even sure how many animals that might entail, but she sincerely hoped that it was many and that they were very troublesome. The mental image of moggies on the chairs and tables, snoozing on sofas and walking back and forth on the pianoforte had her smiling again.
‘See? As I told you, it will all be better now,’ Alister said, mistaking the reason for her changed mood.
‘Of course,’ she said, forcing her enthusiasm to turn to the day ahead. Then she thought of what Michael had told her about Alister’s holdings and the possibility that she could keep her dogs, after all. ‘Alister, when we
are done in Scotland, will we be living on your uncle’s estate, or will we take a house in London?’
He frowned. ‘What do you know of my uncle, or his estate?’
‘Michael Solomon told me that you inherited...’
‘Debt,’ he said, cutting her off before she could finish. ‘I inherited my uncle’s debts along with his land. If you think that I can keep you in a fancy house, as your brother did, you are sorely mistaken.’
‘That is not it at all,’ she said, eager to make amends. ‘It is just that you never mentioned you had an uncle. I assumed you were alone in the world.’
‘Because we were estranged,’ he replied. ‘I did not expect an inheritance from him, nor do I know what to do with the problems he has left me.’
‘I am sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘I did not understand.’
‘No, you did not,’ he snapped.
‘But now I do,’ she said, trying to smile. ‘It is just that I had hoped, if you had troubles you would share them with me.’
‘What good would that do?’ he asked, puzzled.
She did not know. But she had hoped that he would derive some of the comfort from her that she’d hoped to gain from him.
‘It is up to me to solve your problems,’ he said, patting her hand. ‘You cannot be expected to solve mine.’
Her smile faded again, and she stared out through the back window towards the townhouse that was already out of sight and wondered if that were true. She had hoped that just being with Alister would be enough to take away her fears, but she did not feel the grip of them lessening in any way. Would she have to spend the entirety of her life tossing and turning at night and looking back over her shoulder during the day, in fear of seeing her brother and in hope of seeing Michael Solomon?
Her sister had managed to escape the past, or she seemed to have. She realised she had only Hugh’s word that Peg and her husband were still alive. Until she had spoken to her, touched her, seen her, Liv would not believe that her sister was all right.
Harlequin Historical September 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 Page 10
