Strong fingers closed on her shoulders and slowly she was turned to face him. She stood trembling within the circle of his arms, no more than a hand span between them and she wasn’t sure if she shook with fear or something else entirely.
‘Look at me, Hester, sweetheart, please.’
His voice was hypnotic, she couldn’t prevent herself. She tilted her head and her lips parted in invitation. She took an involuntary step backwards only to find her retreat prevented by his arms. He intended to kiss her – half of her longed to feel his mouth on hers, to experience her first kiss, but the other half screamed a warning.
Once she had tasted his lips she would be lost, her freedom compromised and before she knew what was happening he would be on one knee making an offer that she would be in no position to refuse. She had no option; there was only one way out of this impasse. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to collapse in a silken heap at his feet.
*
Ralph’s heart was thundering, her capitulation was imminent. He had to kiss her, to place his mouth over hers, taste its sweetness, crush her to him. He’d never felt this way, so out of control, like a lovesick boy not a man of two and thirty. He watched her eyes widen - saw
the invitation - knew this was the moment.
He relaxed his fingers and prepared to pull her closer but she slipped through his fingers. Too late. His reactions were slow, far too slow, and to his horror she lay in a puddle of gold, unconscious on the floor.
Swearing under his breath, disgusted that his behaviour had caused her to swoon, he scooped her up and cradling her next to his heart, he carried her upstairs to her rooms. The two maidservants greeted him with barely concealed opprobrium and reluctantly he left his love in their capable hands. He stomped back to the study with the intention of drinking himself into oblivion, ashamed he’d allowed his base nature to overcome his better judgment.
What the hell was the matter with him? Why did the proximity of his cousin make him behave like a coxcomb?
*
Hester remained still, stretched out on the day bed, until she heard the distinctive click of the door closing. Immediately she raised her head. ‘Has he gone? Is it safe for me to recover?’ She sat up, laughing at the shocked expressions on their faces. ‘It was a sham, I could think of nothing else to avoid ... well it seemed the best way in the circumstances.’
She saw the two girls exchange glances and understood that they were better versed in the wicked ways of gentlemen than she was. Polly leant down and offered her hand.
‘Please, Miss Frobisher, let me help you to your feet. You’ll spoil your gown if you lie down in it for much longer.’
The lovely garment was placed in the closet where it might be better if it remained. She had escaped unscathed this time but she didn’t think she would be so lucky if she was foolhardy enough to appear dressed in a gown that was obviously an invitation to a man like him.
Before she got into bed she decided to check on the snowmen they’d built outside on the lawn. Taking the candlestick she pulled aside the curtain and opened the shutter a little to look out. The hair on her forearms stood up, her mouth went dry. Across the park in the woods lights were floating, some high some low; they appeared one moment and the next they’d gone. She slammed the shutter, dropped the curtain and sped back across the carpet to scramble into bed.
She was shaking from cold and fear and the candle was snuffed and the room dark. The fire banked up for the night threw little light into the room and she was too scared to climb out and rekindle her candle. She wriggled down, pulling the comforter over her head in an effort to block out the memory of the ghostly lights.
Gradually her pulse returned to normal and as her terror abated common sense returned. Hadn’t her cousin told her the area was used by free traders? Yes. That was what she’d witnessed, nothing demonic about it, merely smugglers returning from the coast with illegal goods.
Forcing herself to relax she turned her thoughts to pleasanter things. She wasn’t sure how she felt about her first experience of intimacy. Ralph had intended to kiss her and she was certain his actions were wrong and that he was treating her with disrespect. The fact she had wanted him to, was neither here nor there - he was a gentleman; he must restrain himself.
Just because they were being thrown into each other’s company didn’t mean he could take liberties with her person. She might be an innocent but even she knew only betrothed couples at that were allowed to indulge in such intimacies. She shuddered. He might be ready to give up his freedom but she was not. She smiled drowsily. If she was thinking of matrimony the last person she would choose would be Cousin Ralph. He was far too controlling.
*
Halfway down his second decanter of cognac Ralph felt he was ready to sleep. Not bothering to stagger upstairs as Robin would have taken to his bed long ago and not be there to assist him, he removed his evening jacket he tossed it carelessly on the desk. Stretching out on the mat in front of the fire he yawned; his only concession to comfort was a cushion he’d snatched from one of the leather armchairs.
The fire was high, the carpet far more comfortable than many places he’d rested his head over the years. He slept soundly for the first time since he’d arrived at Neddingfield; the alcohol he’d consumed helping with his slumbers. His dreams were disturbed by a furious banging but he ignored it. Then someone was shaking his shoulder and he was rudely jerked awake.
‘Your grace, dreadful news, please, you must come at once.’
Instantly alert, in spite of the quantities of claret and cognac he’d drunk the night before, he sprung to his feet, shocked by the expression on Robin’s face.
‘What is it, man? Tell me.’
‘It’s James, your grace. He never reached town, at least we don’t think he did, his horse staggered into the yard just now half dead with cold.’
‘Damn and blast! Let’s assume he’s had a fall and not imagine the worst. Give me five minutes; I can hardly come dressed as I am.’ He heard Robin thundering up the stairs behind him and was glad his man had thought to follow. It would be far quicker to disrobe and put on his breeches and boots if he had assistance. Ten minutes later he was in the kitchen draining a cup of coffee. Snatching a chunk of newly baked bread he pulled on his heavy riding coat, jammed his beaver on his head and ran outside.
In the stable Tom and one of the local men were doing their best for the horse, but after a cursory glance he thought the animal was unlikely to survive. Finally bred animals couldn’t withstand the cold and this poor beast had obviously been up to his belly in snow most of the night. It would be kinder to shoot it now but he didn’t have time for that.
‘Where’s the tack? I want to see the saddle and bridle; it’s possible I can discover something you missed.’
These were fetched and he took them outside into the early morning light to get a closer look. His jaw clenched in anger. The grooms had missed a vital clue in their desperation to get the horse warm; there was a smear of blood across the pommel. As the horse had not been injured this could only mean one thing.
‘This isn’t good, Robin, in fact it’s bloody bad. The boy must have met with an accident. Pray he hasn’t frozen to death overnight.’
Chapter Ten
‘It should be easy enough to follow the tracks of the horse back into the wood, your grace. Shall I arm the men and saddle the horses?’
‘Not yet, Robin. Five more minutes isn’t going to make much difference either way.’ James was one of Hester’s men, had been with him for several years and she would be devastated if anything untoward had happened. He was tempted to go inside and explain but decided against it. Knowing her she would insist on coming with them and her health was not robust enough to be outside on horseback.
He was reduced to two armed men, plus half a dozen outdoor servants who could at a push, wield a cudgel. He had a horrible suspicion his men were being removed one by one; if he wasn’t careful he would be isolated. He stared at t
hat at the grey clouds rapidly approaching from the coast. Within an hour or two it would be snowing; he must get moving and not stand around procrastinating.
Decision made he strode back into the stable to find Robin waiting at the heads of the two horses he’d chosen. If the situation hadn’t been so dire he would have smiled. These were not hunters but workhorses, ones that pulled a farm wagon.
‘I thought these would do better in the snow, your grace. We’ve probably lost one, I don’t want to lose any more.’
Ralph turned to the four men, sacks tied round their legs with string, inadequate coats buttoned across their chests and stringy mufflers around their necks. All wore caps dragged down to cover their ears. He couldn’t in all conscience allow them to come out in a possible blizzard. ‘You four, I no longer wish you to accompany me. Get shovels and clear the walkways, if further snow falls this area will be extremely dangerous.’
The largest touched his forelock and grinned. ‘A bit of snow won’t ’urt us, yer grace. We’re ‘appy enough to follow you, if you think it’d ’elp.’
‘No, I thank you, I shall go with my man. We’re both armed and better dressed to brave the elements.’
One of the four jumped forward, to push open the arched doors and Ralph trotted out. The wind wasn’t as icy as before but it didn’t herald a change in the weather, unfortunately.
He directed his sturdy mount to the trail the returning horse had left. At times the snow was up to its chest but it didn’t seem to bother the beast, it just poked its nose forward and ploughed on. Ralph patted the animal’s neck.
The trail led them into a clearing just in front of the five barred gate that marked the end of the wood and then stopped abruptly. No hoof prints the other side of the gate, nothing to show that anyone apart from James and his mount had been there. The young man would have had to jump the gate or dismount to open it. At this point he would have had his mind on other things.
‘This could be where he was taken.’ Ralph looked over his shoulder, searching the undergrowth and surroundings for signs of an ambush. There were none and his instincts told him they were quite alone in this desolate place. If someone had been here they were long gone. He looked around for evidence but saw nothing.
‘Dismount, Robin, and search properly. I’m certain we’re at the spot he was taken, but from up here I can see nothing suspicious. If I was inclined to be superstitious I’d say something unnatural has occurred here. This is the second man to have vanished without trace with no evidence of human intervention.’
He waited for Robin to laugh but the man turned away unsmiling. Ralph had not mistaken the look of fear on his companion’s face. They had fought side by side throughout many bloody campaigns and this was the first time he’d seen him unsettled.
He lowered himself to the ground, not wishing to fill his boots with snow. There was no necessity to tether his mount as it seemed content to stand. The animal, a nondescript brown gelding, lowered his massive head and blew clouds of warmth down the back of his neck. He reached up and rubbed the hairy muzzle.
‘Good fellow, you stand here. I promise we’ll not keep you waiting long and then you shall return and have a large bucket of oats for your trouble.’
They quartered the area the way they had done when serving soldiers but found nothing: no blood, no helpful threads of red coat, nothing to say that James had been there at all. He straightened, shaking his head in disappointment.
‘We’re going to find nothing here, Robin. At least I can tell Miss Frobisher he appears to have been taken, not killed. That will be some consolation.’ But by whom, or what, he wasn’t sure. He saw Robin’s apprehension and realized his choice of words had been inopportune, merely reinforcing the man’s suspicion that unworldly forces were at work.
A flurry of white brushed across his cheek and he looked up dismayed to see the clouds had arrived quicker than he’d anticipated. ‘We’d better hurry and or we’ll be stuck out here in a blizzard.’
He vaulted into the saddle, digging his heels into the horses’ hairy flanks, then rammed his feet into the irons. Neither animal needed encouragement to return and they clattered back into the if cobbled yard in good time; they had been riding blind for the last mile. Their arrival was heard and the doors swung open and he walked straight in.
‘Thank God, I thought you’d left it too late, your grace. The weather’s turned right nasty out there.’ Tom’s tone reflected his concern.
‘We’d not be back at all if it hadn’t been for these two nags. They knew their way home and all we had to do was keep our heads down and hang on.’
Ralph dropped to the floor sending a cloud of snow over the men standing closest. He looked round at their expectant faces. ‘We found nothing and in some ways that’s good news. James has been abducted, taken somewhere else, but at least he’s not dead.’ One man stepped forward and led away his horse. ‘Give both horses a bucket of oats, they deserve it.’
*
Hester joined Birdie in her comfortable rooms above the kitchen. She told her friend what had transpired the previous night and how she had managed to extricate herself from a potentially damaging situation. She wasn’t sure if Birdie was impressed or scandalized.
‘Look, it’s snowing again. The girl who brought us the tray said that Cousin Ralph and his man haven’t returned. Whatever possessed him go out in this weather?’
‘I’ve no idea, but no doubt he’ll explain it all to you when he returns. Remember, my dear, he’s a veteran and well used to dealing with weather far worse than this.’
Hester had to be satisfied with this answer but she was restless all morning, unable to settle to anything. She had begun to feel uneasy at Neddingfield; for some strange reason she felt trapped within its walls. She returned to her seat beside the fire and munched quietly on the feather-light biscuits Cook had sent up to accompany their mid-morning refreshment. She couldn’t sit up here doing nothing; she would go out to the stables and see what was going on.
‘Thank you for the coffee and conversation but I must return to my chambers to see how the alterations are progressing. It will be delightful to have another gown to wear during the day, for this is the third day I’ve been obliged to wear this one.’
‘My dear, it’s a good thing it suits you so well. Cook is coming up with today’s menu in a moment so I should have had to ask you to leave.’
Hester’s eyebrows rose. Ask her to leave? Her companion was usually docility itself and wouldn’t dream of suggesting her employer leave, whatever the reason. Smiling to herself she clattered back down the stairs and out into the corridor that led to the kitchen, aware that these unusual circumstances seemed to be making them all behave out of character.
She would need to return to her apartment to put on outdoor clothing before she could venture to the stables. She hesitated - there were cloaks and clogs hanging next to the boot room, should she borrow those? Deciding it would save valuable time if she used a servant’s cloak she pushed open the door. As she did so the back door opened and a blast of icy snow enveloped her and she found herself face-to-face with a giant snowman.
For second she was taken aback. ‘Good heavens, I’m relieved to see you back. I was about to come out the stables to enquire after you.’
‘Then I’m glad you didn’t, it’s abominable out there. Go back to the study, my dear, we have things to talk about and it’s far too cold to stand around here dressed as you are.’
Obediently she turned back. He was right, she was already chilled, her dress was of heavy stuff but it was not suited to the extreme conditions they were experiencing.
In the warmth of the study she paced, wondering how long it would take him to remove his outer garments, clean his boots and brush down his breeches. After twenty minutes her curiosity was replaced by annoyance. She didn’t like to be left standing, even by a duke! Whatever could be keeping him? If she could change her clothes in less than ten minutes, surely a man could do the same? How typica
l of him to disregard her feelings in this way.
There were footsteps approaching and she sat, straight-backed, behind the desk. Placing the bulk of this between them made her feel less vulnerable. The door swung open and he marched in, no apology, his face grim. She feared what was coming would be bad news.
‘Sit down. Take the chair closest to the fire. You must be frozen after venturing out this morning.’ She was pleased her voice sounded even and glad he couldn’t see her clenched hands.
He nodded and sat down, moving the chair sideways, away from the fire so that he was facing her. ‘I’m afraid I’ve bad news for you: James has been abducted.’
‘James? What do you mean? Why should anyone wish to kidnap James? How do you know this?’ Her voice was shrill. This was too much coming as it did after her scare last night.
‘His horse returned this morning without him half dead with cold. I went out to look but we found no sign. He’s vanished. His tracks ended by the gate that leads into the lane and we didn’t find evidence of other horses, but I’m still sure he was ambushed.’
Her eyes filled. First Aunt Agatha then James - what was happening? She was being dragged into a nightmare. ‘Do you think they took him to prevent him bringing extra staff here to help us?’
‘I can think of no other explanation but I’m almost sure he’s still alive.’
Hester brushed her tears away. ‘I should hope so, indeed. I’m uneasy about these strange disappearances. Don’t you think it’s odd?’ She remembered what she’d seen the night before and felt nauseous. ‘Last night I saw lights in the woods. I thought they were smugglers, but after what happened to James I’m beginning to have grave doubts.’
‘Doubts? Surely you’re not considering the supernatural? I thought you were made of sterner stuff.’ He shrugged, smiling at her and stood before strolling across the room. She forgot her worries, forgot everything apart from the man who was moving in her direction. Even the desk didn’t seem big enough to protect her.
The Duke's Dilemma Page 9
