“Ghastly woman,” Gideon said, setting his glass upon the table. “She should be drawn and quartered.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but wearing white is completely disrespectful.” The dowager sipped her wine, watching him warily. “Lady Perveal is a mother, after all.”
Gideon leaned back in his chair with ease, his jacket stretching across his broad shoulders. “Yes, and if her daughters do not marry, or her sons become rakes, we will all know it was because their mother chose to wear white.”
The dowager’s face grew an unflattering shade of red. Elizabeth chided herself for letting their game get out of hand. She knew she had to put a stop to their play before someone was truly offended. And it would most likely be her visitors. Gideon was ruthless, and he would win no matter what.
“How is the soup?” she asked, immediately ignoring her mother-in-law’s comment.
He would be a wonderful lord, if he chose to be. If he didn’t, he could ruin the estate within a blink. Dare she trust him? He was like a wild animal…just when she thought he was tame, just when she thought to reach out and pet him, he snapped at her.
Elizabeth studied the way his fingers slid down the stem of that glass. The way his lips quirked. The way his hair shimmered under the lamplight. When he was near, she couldn’t stop looking at him. How could such large hands be so gentle? The thought of those fingers on her body sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Just as effectively, they could snap her neck. She prayed her instincts were not wrong; her life and the children’s depended on it.
“My lady,” Mr. Smith called softly from the doorway.
Surprised, Elizabeth turned to smile at the man, hoping he had decided to join them for dinner. She could certainly use a friend.
“A word, if you please.”
Elizabeth stood and glanced at the curious table. “I will only be a moment, but please continue with the meal.”
She moved quickly into the hall, ignoring her mother-in-law’s frown, and followed Mr. Smith toward the front doors. “What is it?”
“Becky Miller is missing, and her parents are asking for assistance.”
“Of course.” Elizabeth glanced toward the windows on either side of the door. Becky was barely six years of age. Although the curtains were drawn together, she could see a peek of the dark night through the drapes. The poor girl must be terrified. “Is there anything suspicious in the child’s disappearance?”
Mr. Smith frowned. “No, not that anyone is aware of, but I knew you’d want to know.”
“Yes, thank you. Please have a mount prepared.”
He sighed. “They are already saddled, and Will is waiting outside.”
Elizabeth grinned and rested her hand on the fine sleeve of his brown jacket. “You, Mr. Smith, are too good. You know me well.”
He flushed, looking highly uncomfortable. “There’s something else.”
Elizabeth drew back, reading the hesitation in his voice. “You sound so serious. What’s wrong?”
He raked his hand through his hair. “Lady Lavender did not only hire Gideon but two other boys at the same time. I believe I have found a connection between Gideon’s father and another lad’s.”
“You think there was a reason she went after him?”
He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, but I do find it suspicious.”
The soft fall of footsteps alerted them to another’s presence. Elizabeth drew back, knowing to drop the subject…for now. She wasn’t quite sure who she preferred, the dowager or Gideon.
“You’ll need an escort,” Mr. Smith said, his gaze on the dining room doors. By the furrow of his brow, Mr. Smith obviously didn’t care for whoever had appeared. But that could have been one of many.
“Will is certainly good enough.”
“My lady,” Mr. Smith started to protest, his gaze drawn back to her. She could only imagine his next words. A lone footman is no escort for a titled woman riding at night.
“I’ll go with her,” Gideon said, surprising them both.
“Excellent.” Elizabeth gave Gideon a polite smile even as her heart raced with his nearness. “Mr. Smith, please stay with the children. No one is to go into their rooms while I’m gone.”
Elizabeth didn’t miss the glance of warning Mr. Smith shot Gideon as he strolled past them and toward the stairs. She appreciated his need to protect her, but she hoped he would eventually come to trust the man who would be their lord. She’d lost so many already; she couldn’t lose Mr. Smith’s friendship as well.
Gideon lightly gripped her elbow. His touch stung her skin, burned below the surface and spread up her arm and down her body. Her breath caught as she glanced from his hand up to his face. There was a hardness to his eyes that bespoke possessiveness.
“You believe there’s something suspicious in the child’s disappearance.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard, not daring to turn for fear his close proximity would send her spiraling off balance. She needed to be able to think, and it was an impossibility when he was near. “I never said so. In fact, I said quite the opposite.”
“Yes.” His breath stirred the hair near her temple. “But I can read your body. I know when you lie.”
He stood so close she could feel his heat. Elizabeth lowered her gaze to his mouth. The lovely, hard mouth that softened so expertly when he kissed her. It was insane, completely and utterly mad, but in that moment all she could think about was lifting onto her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his…there, where anyone could happen down the stairs. There, where Mr. Smith might return. There, where the dowager might appear.
“Mr. Smith seems to be more friend than employee.”
“He is.” Certainly he couldn’t be jealous. Why did she wish he was?
Disturbed by her own reaction to Gideon’s possessiveness, Elizabeth quickly moved out the door and down the steps into the cool evening air. She swore she could still feel Gideon’s touch. Instinctively, she rubbed her elbow where the skin tingled. Had Gideon been jealous of Mr. Smith? Could it be possible? No, she couldn’t imagine a man like him giving two figs about something as silly as jealousy.
Before Will could help her mount, Gideon was there, his firm grip at her waist as he lifted her easily and settled her upon the sidesaddle. She felt the grasp of his hands even as he stepped away and mounted his own horse. She wasn’t sure which surprised her more, his touch or his show of gallantry. Will was first to leave, taking off at a speed that would certainly get an unskilled rider killed. And he was most definitely unskilled. Elizabeth sighed. At times she felt as if she was a nanny to an entire household of toddlers. How wonderful it would be to have someone she could trust at her side, someone to share her burden.
“Why go?” Gideon asked as they spurred their mounts forward into the night. “Why not send footmen?”
“I am the one in charge now.” Her voice came out shaky as the mount thundered over the drive and up the hill. “Mr. Ashton left the land to me until Henry is old enough. These people are my responsibility, and I’ve spent the last year proving to them that I am as capable as any man.”
A cold rain began to fall, stinging her face and adding to her unease. With the rain the temperature would drop and poor Becky would suffer. She shivered, her exposed arms growing chill. How stupid of her not to bring her cloak.
“They rent your land, that doesn’t mean you have to rush off into the night like some guardian angel.”
She spurred her mount faster, hoping to outrun his questions. How could one explain compassion? Empathy? Her hair was destroyed within minutes, the strands whipping around her face. She didn’t care. There was something about the night that made her feel free, hidden within its cloak of darkness. But she was not naïve; she also knew there were dangers lurking in the night.
“They are people, Gideon. Just like you and me. They deserve a chance at life.”
He kept up with her fast pace, which greatly impressed her, as she wouldn’t have as
sumed he rode horses so well. Women, yes, but not horses. There were so many surprises about Gideon that she wondered if she would ever truly know him.
“Are you saying that all people are equal? All can be saved?”
She slowed as understanding dawned. Gideon didn’t believe in the equality of all. The question was…where did he think he fit in the hierarchy of the world? The thought saddened her immensely. And what would he do when he knew the truth about his parentage? “Perhaps not some. Mayhap some people are beyond redemption. But most…most people I find are just lost. Confused. Scared.”
He snorted. “I think you’re much too kindhearted.”
“Maybe,” she whispered, wishing she could read his face in the dark.
Hadn’t Mr. Smith said that upon many occasions? He thought her ridiculous for being so trusting. But she wasn’t some witless lass. She knew who was the real enemy. She merely figured there was no point in wasting energy on people who wouldn’t truly harm you when there were plenty of people who would.
They ceased talking as the cottage came into view, a small stone home atop a hill. Nothing particularly elegant, but a warm, homey feel surrounded the building. A small group of men holding lanterns were gathered outside the front door, talking in excited voices. She recognized the look upon their drawn faces, made all the more menacing under the light of the lanterns. They searched for an enemy, someone to blame, and God help the person they found. People could do stupid things when they were on a witch hunt.
“My lady.” Mr. Miller snatched off his cap and started toward her. “We lost Becky.” The poor man’s eyes were wide with fear. Only last December their newborn babe had died. Becky was the only child who had survived the ravages of disease and poverty.
“Fear not, Mr. Miller, we’ll find her.” Her mount pranced to the side, nervous about the noise and many men. She was as well. They all watched her from the edges of the light, waiting to see how she would respond. A myriad of human shadows, expecting so much from her, and as a woman she had so much to prove. “Where did you last see her?”
“Outside, playing,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “She’s a good lass. What if someone took her? What if she wandered to the pond?”
“No.” Elizabeth leaned down, gently touching his shoulder. “I’m sure she’s merely lost. How long ago did you see her?”
“An hour or two.”
Elizabeth slid Gideon a glance. He looked as grim as she felt. The temperature had dropped from the rain. The child was only six, if she remembered correctly. She looked up at the dark sky. With no moonlight, it would be difficult for Becky to find her way home. She wouldn’t last all night, and even if they did find her, surely she’d be ill come morning.
“Is there any place she frequents?” Gideon asked, surprising Elizabeth with his concern. “Any spot where she likes to play?”
The man seemed just as startled as Elizabeth by Gideon’s question but quickly answered, shaking his head. “Perhaps the meadow.” He twisted his cap nervously in his hands. “Then there’s the churchyard where her grandmother was buried.”
“We’ll check the churchyard,” one man said. She couldn’t see him in the shadows and didn’t recognize his voice. But it didn’t matter, she was merely grateful for the help.
“Very well,” Elizabeth said, pulling her mount left. “We’ll head to the meadow. Will, you’ll come with us.”
She didn’t wait for their approval but nudged her mount and took off toward the hills, eager to escape the hunting party and their expectations. The child could be anywhere by now. How would they find her in the dark? She glanced toward the sky once more. The rain had grown harder since leaving home, soaking her silken gown and chilling her skin. What was once welcoming and calming was now menacing.
“Slow down,” Gideon growled, keeping pace with her. “You’re going to break your neck.”
Would he really care? “You don’t have to go, Gideon.”
“What else is there for me to do?” He said it so coldly, as if he didn’t really give two pence about the lost child, that once again she was doubting the man.
“Follow me.” She nudged her mount up a hill.
She’d never ridden until she’d married Mr. Ashton. At first she’d been nervous, but she’d quickly understood the freedom that came with being able to control a horse. With the wind howling around her, Elizabeth felt as if she was flying. She glanced over her shoulder. Will was a dark shadow still some paces back, but Gideon remained at her side. She had this rare unguarded moment to get answers from him.
“Why?” she asked as they slowed their mounts, reaching the crest of the hill. The dark clouds parted for a brief moment, allowing a splash of moonlight to sparkle against the wet grass. She knew she courted trouble by asking him but couldn’t help herself.
“Why what?”
“Why do you sell yourself?” She hadn’t meant to say the words. No, she meant to ask him why he had come to dinner. She didn’t want to be reminded of what he did. Yet once the words were out, she couldn’t seem to pull them back. Damn herself to hell, but she wanted to understand the man. She wanted to help him, even if he didn’t want her assistance.
He drew his horse up short and looked directly at her. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but she could feel his annoyance…his anger. “Maybe I enjoy it.”
She clenched her jaw, refusing to respond to his blatant lie. Yes, he might be able to read her body, to know when she told a falsehood, but she knew him as well. She’d known the moment she’d seen him with Lady Lavender in the hall that very first day that he hated the woman. So, why would he stay?
“Maybe I like having sex for money. Better than the alternative, isn’t it? Working on the docks, working in a factory. Instead, I spend my days reclining on silken sheets. Spend my days feeling immense pleasure, a pleasure you understand all too well, don’t you?”
Elizabeth burned with embarrassment and yes, blast it all…desire. How dare he bring up their intimate encounters. Fortunately, Will finally caught up to them and they were forced to save their conversation for later.
“I don’t see her,” the lad said, scratching his head. “But she could be anywhere. So bleedin’ dark.”
Elizabeth nudged her mount left, needing to get away from Gideon, if only for a moment. “Will, head right.” She was determined to ignore the man who had become a thorn in her side. She had more important things to worry about, and she refused to waste her energy on Gideon and the tumultuous emotions he stirred within.
“Aye.” Will nudged his mount toward the far side of the field, blending into the dark shadows.
“Becky?” Elizabeth called out, her voice echoing over the hills and the patter of rain. No response. She shivered, her skin beyond chilled. Why hadn’t she thought to change? Her silk was completely ruined. She lifted up on her mount and cupped her hands around her mouth, calling again. No response.
Frustrated, Elizabeth sighed. “Where could she be?”
She didn’t dare speak the truth…that Becky could be dead. It was too horrible to even contemplate. There were too many terrible things in the world; she wouldn’t court trouble before its time. She brushed the rain from her face. Besides, she had enough trouble with Gideon, who followed close beside her. Why couldn’t the blasted man search elsewhere?
“Stop,” Gideon whispered.
She froze. “Do you see her?”
His eyes narrowed as he scanned the black field. “No, but…do you hear that?”
“I don’t…”
The slightest sound of rustling reeds whispered through the field, but Elizabeth didn’t feel the bloom of hope as she’d expected. No, merely a shiver of unease that whispered over her skin, warning her that something wasn’t quite right. Then she saw it…something metal flashed under the moonlight.
“Whatever is that?”
“Get down!”
Elizabeth didn’t have time to respond to Gideon’s demand. Suddenly the man dove across his mount
. His body hit hers with a hard thud that sent them both tumbling to the ground. At the last moment, he twisted, taking the brunt of the fall. She landed atop him. Elizabeth was vaguely aware of a blast that sent their horses sidestepping dangerously close to their heads, but she was too bemused to understand.
“Are you hurt?” Gideon demanded, latching onto her upper arms and shaking her. “Damn it, Elizabeth, are you well?”
“Y-yes, I think.”
“Bloody hell!” Will cried out from across the field. She could hear the thunder of hoofbeats and feel the shake of the ground as the lad came closer. Still, she didn’t quite understand what had happened. Her mind spun with confusion.
“Will!” Elizabeth rolled off Gideon, onto cold, damp grass. “Be careful!”
Gideon surged to his feet. “Did you see him? Which way did he go?”
Him?
“Aye, toward the woods.”
“Stay with her.” Gideon jumped onto his mount and took off, thundering toward the forest.
“Wait.” Elizabeth stumbled to her feet, attempting to stand on quivering legs, her dress and slippers soaked through from the wet ground and rain. “What? What did he mean did you see him? Who?”
“The man who tried to shoot you,” Will explained, as if it was quite obvious. “Jolly good! He got him!”
Will didn’t wait for Elizabeth’s approval but took off toward Gideon. Elizabeth merely stood there, too stunned to move. Someone had tried to shoot her? She wrapped her arms around her stomach, feeling suddenly queasy. She could barely make sense of the shadows that merged together as one near the far woods. They all seemed leering and menacing. But she could distinguish the sounds of fists hitting flesh, the grunts of pain that followed.
“Gideon, no!” She lifted her skirts and raced forward, slipping over the damp grass, fear spurring her forward. If Gideon were injured, or worse, they might lose their hope of ever retaining the title and lands.
But it wasn’t that thought that had her heart racing as she stumbled up the hill toward that dark patch of trees. If Gideon were killed, he’d never have the chance to be the man he could be, to have the life he deserved. Damn it all, she liked him. Actually liked the man.
To Capture a Rake Page 14
