“Quite,” she said, unperturbed.
He did not know what to make of that. It was such an oddly specific memory that he would have believed the girl harbored a tendresse for him if he hadn’t known better.
He should really thank Lady Claire for shoving him into the priest hole and protecting Alice from scandal. She would have been forced to marry him, and no amount of revenge could have stopped it. And then where would they be?
In bed, probably, and hating each other in between hours of hot, melting kisses.
Yes, he owed Lady Claire a debt of gratitude for saving him from such a terrible fate.
He scowled at her.
She smiled serenely and ate a piece of venison.
Alice had now turned her attention to Sir Bellamy. Her expression was one of polite interest, but something in the way she gripped her fork suggested she would like to stab him in the eye with it. Nathaniel tried not to smile.
But then Kent stole her attention back, and Nathaniel was miserable again.
This was madness! She was an avenging angel come to destroy his own brother. She would let nothing, including Nathaniel, stand in her way.
She did not care for him. She had told him as much right out. He was merely a pawn in her grand scheme for vengeance.
The trouble was, he was such a damned willing pawn. He could not seem to defend himself against her. He had told her to leave, she had outright refused, and then she had kissed him. And now, here she sat at his supper table, flirting with another man. The whole situation was utterly preposterous.
How was he to stop her quest for revenge? For stop her, he must. He could not let her win this game with his brother’s life. It would tear his family even further apart. They would never be whole again.
It would likely kill his father.
Nathaniel’s conscience bit at him. Because…hadn’t Nick done exactly that to Alice? He had destroyed her sister. He had seduced a gently bred innocent and left her to suffer the consequences all alone. His behavior was an outrage. Such a thing could not be allowed, either.
Yes, Nick would have to be dealt with—but by Nathaniel, himself, not by Alice.
Perhaps a restitution could be paid. Easier said than done. What price did one put on a lady’s—a sister’s—life? Would fifty thousand pounds suffice?
He looked at Alice and knew the truth.
No.
She had lost her sister. No amount was great enough to make up for that.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Where was Nicholas Eastwood hiding?
It was only just after dawn, and Alice stared up at the house, thinking, while her maid stood behind her, yawning.
Nicholas must be nearby, otherwise he would not have been able to set the traps for Nathaniel. Nicholas couldn’t have known his brother’s daily routine without watching him for a period of time. So, he must be close. Perhaps in town…although, he was more likely hiding in the woods somewhere to avoid being recognized.
Or perhaps he was much closer. Perhaps he had been hiding right under her nose the whole time. Now that she knew about the existence of secret rooms in the manor, she couldn’t believe that Nicholas wouldn’t take advantage of them.
She pressed her lips together in a tight line. She did not like to think of him being so close to Nathaniel. Still, Nicholas knew of the rooms, but so did Nathaniel. If Nicholas was hiding in one of them, Nathaniel could easily find him.
If he bothered to look.
Which he hadn’t, because he didn’t really believe Nicholas was trying to kill him. Or if he did, he had just accepted his fate.
Alice ground her teeth in frustration.
“I believe I shall take a walk, Mary,” she said, turning abruptly.
Mary frowned. “You have not yet eaten breakfast, miss.”
Alice waved her hand dismissively. “That can wait. My walk cannot.”
Mary sighed and trotted after her. “To the daffodils, miss?”
Alice narrowed her eyes. “As it happens, yes.”
“Perhaps your aunt would like to accompany us?” Mary suggested hopefully.
“I would not like that,” Alice said.
Mary let out a second, much deeper sigh, to let Alice know exactly how she felt about that.
“Perhaps this afternoon we can go into town,” Alice said. “I had a thought you might like some new hair ribbons.”
Mary gave her an assessing look. “I suppose the baroness needn’t be bothered every time you wish to take a walk,” she allowed more cheerfully.
Alice grinned.
It was a misty morning. The ground was still slick with dew, and her slippers soon grew damp. This annoyed her greatly…until she caught sight of Nathaniel rounding the lake.
Mary let out a shriek. “Why, he’s…naked!”
“He has on trousers.” But not a shirt, thank heavens.
Lord, he was beautiful.
“Miss Alice, you mustn’t be here!” Her maid’s voice rose in panic. “Your aunt— The countess! Please, miss, we must—”
“Do be quiet, Mary. I’m trying to watch.”
Mary let out an indignant squawk.
Nathaniel caught sight of them then, slowed, and halted. His hands went to his hips, and he scowled at them.
Alice dropped into a curtsy.
Mary groaned.
He stalked over, halting so close to Alice that she could feel the heat from his exercise radiating from his body like steam. She shivered. And not from dislike.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked sardonically.
Twice before, she had been confronted by this very same sight. But the first time she had been merely shocked, and the second time they had been in actual danger. Both times his shirt had been speedily replaced. This time, Alice looked her fill.
His chest and stomach were dusted with short, coppery hair, which she had noticed before. What truly fascinated her, however, were his nipples. Whatever were they for? Men did not nurse babes. A memory sprang to mind—his hot mouth on her breast, suckling. That had not felt maternal in the least. Would he like it if she did the same to him?
“Alice,” he said roughly.
“Oh!” Her cheeks blazed.
Mary cleared her throat. “My lord, if you will excuse us—”
Alice interrupted, “Lord Abingdon and I have important matters to discuss. If you would be so good as to stand back fifty paces, Mary.”
Mary did not move a step.
“Hair ribbons, Mary,” Alice reminded her. When her maid remained stubbornly in place, she clamped her jaw. “And perhaps a new bonnet?”
Mary curtsied. “My lord will put his shirt on first, if you please.”
Nathaniel gave a startled look to his bare chest. While he remedied his nakedness, Alice sent an annoyed glare to her maid, who returned it with a smirk. She dipped another curtsy and was off. Alice counted as she stepped.
“She can still see us,” said Nathaniel, now wearing his shirt.
“But she can’t hear us, and that’s the important thing,” Alice said.
He tipped his head. “Of course.”
She smoothed her skirts and gathered the precious few wits that hadn’t deserted her at the sight of his naked chest. “Lord Abingdon,” she began.
One corner of his lips curled upward.
She frowned. “Something amuses you?”
“As you’ve already intimated, I believe we’re beyond such formality. We know each other’s sins, and I have taken certain liberties with your body. You have been false with me three times. In this matter, at least, you will be honest. I am not Lord Abingdon to you, except in public. In private, you will call me Nate.”
For a moment, she was torn between the desire to throw herself into his arms and beg his forgiveness, and the equally strong desire to kick him in the knee for his presumptuousness.
She did neither.
“Very well. Nate,” she said, trying out the sound of it. It made her insides feel squishy. That
wouldn’t do at all. “No. Nathaniel,” she said briskly. That was the name that had slipped out once before, and it felt far less…intimate. “I have a proposal to make.”
His eyebrows shot up. “By all means, let’s hear it.”
“I need your help to find Nicholas. No one knows this house and property as well as you. If your brother is determined to remain hidden, I have little hope of finding him without your help.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“I assure you, Lord…Nathaniel, I have never been more so.”
“And yet, if you find him, you will harm him. You’re asking me to betray my own flesh and blood.”
She wanted to shake him. Why was the man such a fool about his scapegrace of a brother? But she had prepared for his objections. “But I am not asking you to betray him. I am asking you to prove his innocence.”
Abingdon—Nathaniel—crossed his arms over his chest. “Explain.”
“If Nicholas is hidden here on the estate, he means to kill you,” she said. “No one hides because his intent is benevolent. However, if we search the estate, leave no stone unturned, no secret room unsearched, we can likely assume it is someone else trying to murder you.”
“A cheerful thought,” he muttered.
“We would find the murderer, whoever he may be,” she said firmly. “And you would be safe.”
“But if we find Nicholas, he will not be safe,” Nathaniel reminded her.
“You would be there with me. Would you rather I discover him on my own?”
Nathaniel’s hands clenched into fists and his eyes turned stormy. “No.”
“Then it would be wise for you to assist me in my search, if only to ensure I do not succeed.”
His gaze narrowed. “You are playing with me again, like a cat with a mouse. I can’t trust you.”
“All the more reason to keep me close,” she dared.
He moved like he meant to reach out and grasp her.
Her heart beat wildly, and she took a step toward him when she ought to have stepped back.
He halted, his hands raised to her shoulders but not touching them. “It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Alice,” he said quietly.
“It’s not a game, my lord,” she returned. His eyes flashed, and she hastily amended, “Nathaniel.”
His arms dropped to his sides. “I cannot trust you,” he said again.
“I have never lied to you, not even when it would serve my purposes to do so. I should never have spilled Adelaide’s secret to you, nor my intentions for Nicholas. Even now, I am telling you the truth.”
That gave him pause. He searched her face. “Why?”
She smiled slightly. “Because I know you cannot stop me. You will help me find Nicholas, and I will gain my revenge.”
“No,” he said slowly. “I meant, why did you tell me about Adelaide?”
Alice bit her lip. She knew what Eliza thought about that, but she wasn’t willing or ready to concede she did it out of any tender feelings for this man.
She shrugged a shoulder. “I already told you. I need your help.”
He continued to study her, his blue eyes thoughtful.
“Very well,” he said finally. “We shall hunt for Nicholas together. But make no mistake, Alice. I will stop you from harming him in any way.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Nathaniel decided not to escort Alice back to the house. It was ungentlemanly, but she could hardly complain about his behavior while she was in the midst of the unladylike pursuit of ruining his brother. He needed time to think, and that was something rarely accomplished in her presence.
Or never, actually.
This entire situation was madness, he told himself for perhaps the millionth time since the fateful night the chandelier fell. Absolute madness.
He hated her. He hated the way she looked at him as though hoping for his kiss, when in actuality, she wanted no such thing.
Most of all, he hated that he cared so much for her, when she did not care for him.
He was a fool, a damned fool, but he did care about her. So, he could not let her find Nicholas by herself. If Nick was capable of fratricide—which Nathaniel didn’t want to believe, but he had to be realistic—who knew what a murderer could, or would, do to Alice?
There were any number of hiding places on the estate. Among those were half a dozen spots where he was quite certain Nick was not hiding. He would take her to those places first and let her investigate.
Once they eliminated possibilities that were too small, too risky, or too obvious, there were only three other places Nick was likely to be. Nathaniel had no intention of sharing those with her. He would inspect them on his own.
He laced his hands behind his neck and stared unhappily at the ground.
The trouble was, he could not keep his promise to his father without meeting Nick face-to-face. But if they did meet face-to-face, one of them could quite possibly end up dead. Then, not only would he have broken his promise to his father, but his father would have lost a son.
Not the ideal ending to a termite-infested family tree.
Nathaniel had hoped to put off the moment of truth for as long as possible—or at least until he had produced an heir of his own. If guilty, Nick might kill Nathaniel without much remorse, but he would doubtless feel a qualm or two at murdering an innocent babe.
But now Nathaniel had no choice but to bring about that dreaded meeting.
He must find Nick before Alice did.
And soon.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Alice watched Nathaniel ride off with Duke Wessex and huffed in frustration. Had he enlisted the duke’s help to find Nicholas? And left her out in the cold?
She needed to follow them.
But how? One couldn’t be sneaky on horseback. No mount would tiptoe daintily through the woods and remain unseen.
She would have to force Nathaniel to confess to his subterfuge.
One way or another…
“One day,” Eliza said, peering out the window over Alice’s shoulder, “your face will freeze into that scowl permanently. You will be hideous, sweeting. Do you want to be hideous?”
Alice’s scowl deepened. “If you tell me to smile, Eliza, so help me I’ll break the nearest vase.”
Eliza glanced around the room. There were at least a dozen to choose from. “There is no need for such violence, although I daresay it would be an improvement to the decor. I am merely suggesting that, just for today, you put aside all thoughts of revenge and dastardly deeds, and join me in a little fun.”
“Fun!” Alice nearly choked on the word. “While Abingdon is ruining everything? Impossible.”
Eliza patted her arm sympathetically. “Just like a man. But you cannot do anything about that right now, can you? So, in the meantime, why don’t we explore the village? It’s not raining, for once, and I could use the exercise.”
Alice sighed. She had promised Mary hair ribbons and a new bonnet, and it would not do to renege on their agreement. Servitude was a funny thing. On one hand, a mistress wielded considerable power over her maid’s well-being and daily happiness. On the other hand, a maid invariably knew where her mistress buried the bodies, so to speak. And Alice had buried a lot of bodies lately. A steady supply of frivolities was not too much to ask in return.
She summoned Mary, and the three of them set off on the road that led into the village. The day was lovely, a warm spring afternoon that was blessedly free of clouds. It had rained the evening before, so the road was not dusty, but it was not so wet that there was mud. Birds were singing, and the sweet smell of grass and blooming flowers filled the air.
Alice felt her sprits lighten ever so slightly. It was hard to feel dark and gloomy when everywhere she looked there were signs of new life and rebirth.
She breathed in a deep gulp of air and let it out slowly, feeling more unhappiness slip away with that release.
Eliza opened her parasol to give them shade and linked her arm throug
h Alice’s. “Isn’t this better?”
Alice felt her smile blooming, stretching muscles that felt almost stiff with disuse. How disturbing. Had she really been so unhappy that she hadn’t smiled for so long?
Except when she was with—
She stopped that thought in its tracks.
She would not yearn for something—someone—that could never be hers.
No matter how wonderful his lips made her feel.
“Much better,” she admitted. “I had not realized how dark my mind was feeling.”
They passed the blacksmith, where a man watched the smith shove a horseshoe into the flame, and the bakery, where they were surrounded by the most delectable of scents. Finally, they stopped at Mrs. Buffet’s Sundries for Ladies, where Mary promptly went to work examining every last ribbon Mrs. Buffet could produce. She turned them this way and that, admiring some, and discarding others with a deprecating sniff of her nose.
Alice grinned. “Anything she wants,” she told Mrs. Buffet. She handed the woman several coins. “We will return after tea.”
Mrs. Buffet curtsied. “If you please, miss, the Bell and Spoon down the road a bit has a very pretty tea service.”
“Wonderful!” Eliza exclaimed. “I am quite famished from our walk.”
Alice nodded. “Please see that my maid does not starve until we return.”
“Yes, miss,” Mrs. Buffet said, beaming and curtsying once more. “Might I say, miss, you are that kind and generous, that you think of such things.”
Alice and Eliza stepped out of the tidy shop and back into the sunshine. A man darted into the shop just as they left it. Alice halted, frowning.
“No, you don’t,” Eliza said. “I am hereby banning frowns, scowls, and glares from your face for the rest of the afternoon.”
Alice shook her head and laughed. “As you command. Come, I am hungry, and a spot of tea is in order.”
The Bell and Spoon was one of those coaching inns that also served as the heart of a village. It was clean and neat, cheerfully decorated in tones of blue and yellow. She smiled at the innkeeper’s wife, who introduced herself as Bess as she set down a tray of tea, sandwiches, and little cakes.
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