Lucas gave her an odd look, and she realized her mistake. Damn and damn again.
"Were you not a family before your father died?"
"We really weren't. We barely knew each other, and it was only when I inherited that my cousins thought that I was of any account at all."
In her mind, she could remember the curate saying something like God always abhorred a liar, but she had not said anything that was an outright falsehood. She had only slanted the truth a little, and in the end, that wasn't so bad, was it?
Lucas nodded slowly. "And if you died, what would happen to the estate?"
"It would go to Mason. He is the one who has the most to gain from my death."
"I'm sorry, Clarine."
She looked at Lucas in surprise. "What are you sorry for? Are you saying you cannot help me, after all?"
"No, I will be with you to solve this thing, no matter how long it takes. I promise. I am only sorry that your family, the people who are meant to help you, are so terrible."
Clarine smiled wanly. "I don't know if it should make me feel better, but it does. Thank you."
Lucas opened his mouth to say something, but then it was as if the air cracked with lightning. The sky was clear, however, and for a moment, both of them froze.
Then another shot rang out, making both their horses start nervously, and Lucas shouted, "Gun!"
* * *
8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
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Lucas was well used to the sound of pistols cracking in the dawn after his duels. However, he was not sure he had ever heard anything as terrifying as the shots being fired right now.
On a dueling ground, he was fighting a man as an equal. He knew what the stakes were, and furthermore, the only life he was risking was his own.
Now, however, as he glimpsed Clarine's pale face and saw her terror, he knew that putting her at risk was completely unacceptable.
She wheeled Lady around in a tight circle, crouching low like a jockey. Her voice was strained with fear, but it was true.
"Come on, we need to ride for Hartford Hall!"
Not good enough. Lucas leaned over, hooking his arm around her narrow waist. She was as light as air, and he dragged her from her saddle to his with an abrupt motion. She squawked with dismay at being thrown face first over his mount's withers, but Lucas ignored her, crouching low over her body as another shot rang out.
"Don't let Lady loose, please!"
With a swear, Lucas made a grab for Lady's reins, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he grabbed them on the first try. Another shot rang out and, crouching over Clarine's body and hanging on to her horse's reins, he started a hard run for Hartford Hall.
At any moment, Lucas expected to feel the hot agony of a bullet in his back or his shoulder. Instead, they cleared the grove and emerged past the trees to the clear road. Lucas kept up their breakneck pace until they were in the open fields, and only then did he pause, letting the horses breathe as he looked back toward the trees.
"Dear God, they were shooting at us."
Clarine struggled to sit up.
Lucas slid off the gelding and helped her to the ground.
"Yes, I'm sorry, Clarine. Are you hurt at all?"
"No, just slightly winded from being thrown over your shoulder like a sack of rice, but otherwise, I am fine. Thank you for a timely rescue."
"Think nothing of it."
Clarine stepped away from his gelding, and anything else Lucas wanted to say was lost when she slid down to her knees. Thankfully, the gelding didn't shy away, and Lucas was able to haul her up again, holding her tight against him. Her shoulders were shaking as if she were a leaf in the gale, and her teeth chattered together. He held on to her tight, and it took a few moments before he was able to make out her words.
"Someone is trying to kill me. They are actually trying to kill me."
Lucas tried for a smile he wasn't sure he felt. "To be fair, they are a terrible shot."
Clarine choked a little, and for a moment, he was afraid she was going to start sobbing in earnest. To his surprise, however, she straightened up, squaring her shoulders and looking up at him with a slight if shaky smile.
"Well, small favors, I suppose. I... I am sorry I fell apart there for a moment."
Lucas wasn't sure she was done. There was still something almost heartrendingly fragile about her, and suddenly, Lucas wanted to catch whoever was frightening her so and wring their neck.
"Are you all right?"
She thought about it for a moment, and then shook her head. "No, I rather don't think that I am. But I need to be, don't I? We should return to Hartford Hall and quickly. If someone in that grove had a gun, they might decide to come chasing after us to finish the job."
"I think if they are coward enough to try to fire on you from the underbrush that they will hardly chase us out so far. However, we should get back to the Hall. Can you ride?"
Her firm nod even in the face of her fear tugged at his heart, and he helped her up on Lady again. When he was mounted himself, they were off at a dead gallop, and grimly, Lucas wondered who they would find or who they would not find at home.
* * *
It was unusual in the extreme for a groom to come into the main house, but Lucas couldn't tolerate the idea of letting her out of his sight. Instead, as she dismounted in the yard, he leaped off with her, sweeping her up in his arms as one of the boys who tended the stable took their horses, wide-eyed.
"Cool those horses down; walk them slowly at least a dozen times around the yard, and if I catch you giving them cold water after that, I will tan your hides. Her ladyship hurt her foot on her ride and must be taken indoors."
"Lucas, what in the world—"
"Shush. I am not letting you go into that damn house on your own."
A number of different emotions fluttered across her face when he said that, but relief won out.
"All right. Onward my steed, and we will see what there is to be seen."
For a single moment, Lucas was stunned by the idea of Clarine mounted over his hips, her blond hair a riot of gold down her back and her violet eyes lit up with sensuality and desire. It almost made him miss a step.
Clarine looked up at him with concern.
"Are you all right yourself? I never asked, but did one of the bullets strike you?"
"No, it's nothing."
Lucas cursed himself. Had it really been so very long since he was with a woman that he was excited by something as small as that? He felt rather like a monster, entertaining such thoughts when Clarine's life was actually in danger, but a part of him did not seem able to help it.
Coming through the rear entrance of Hartford Hall, they startled two footmen who were taking their ease in the kitchen. They sprang to confused attention when they saw what was going on.
Lucas nodded at them curtly.
"Her ladyship's been hurt. She needs help. Bring bandages and water to the drawing room."
"And please, summon my family as well."
Clarine was doing a damned good job of looking as if she were dazed and helpless. She clung to his shoulders, and her head lolled against his chest, looking so very fragile that even Lucas, who knew she was physically just fine, felt a surge of protectiveness. Despite her act, however, he could see a sparkling violet eye peeking up at him as he carried her to the hall, and he had to hide a grin. The little heiress had spirit, no matter what else was going on.
In the drawing-room, a maid arrived with bandages and hot water, staring wide-eyed as Lucas curtly dismissed her.
"Here, let's bandage your ankle. If they think you are wounded, they may tip their hand."
He wound the hot linen bandage around Clarine's bare ankle, and as he did so, his body remembered all over again how very beautiful she was. Her ankle in his hand was white and trim, and when she tugged up the heavy skirt of he
r riding habit to give him more room to work, he saw that her legs were pale and slender, just aching for his mouth.
"Why whatever in the world are you thinking of, Lucas? You've gone quite red."
He wondered if there was a hint of something husky in Clarine's voice just then, something more than just maidenly wonder, and unfortunately, that was when the door opened, and Mason Lister came in.
The eldest Mason sibling had seemed the picture of calm when Lucas saw him a few nights ago, but now there was a nearly frantic look to him. His eyes were wide, and as the door thumped closed behind him, he took in the entire scene before him with confusion.
"Why, Clarine, what's happened to you? The footman who came to fetch me made it sound as if you had broken your neck."
Clarine shrugged, lying more fully back on the divan. "I'm sorry for the panic, Mason. It's all right. There was only an incident out where we were riding."
"Oh?"
Mason spared a glance for Lucas, who was still wrapping up Clarine's foot, and then glanced back at his cousin before drawing a stool up to sit close to her.
Clarine hesitated and then shrugged.
"I'm sure it is nothing. Only someone was out shooting in the grove, and I think they were getting a little too excited about seeing movement. Lady shied and bashed my poor ankle into a tree, and our new groom is only seeing to the damage."
Mason's brow furrowed. "But it's spring. There's nothing to shoot right now, nothing worth anything, at least."
Except perhaps for heiresses? From Lucas’s subordinate position on the floor, he watched Mason's face. It was, he thought, an honest face, and perhaps that would have meant something if he hadn't so often been swindled at cards by faces at least that honest.
Clarine shrugged. "Poachers, perhaps. I know that Father spoke about them lurking the grounds often enough. But please, Mason, where are Quentin and Sarah? I'm sorry. I called for everyone because I was just so worried, and I suppose in my panic, I wanted to make sure that everyone was all right."
Mason nodded. "Please do not worry. I'm sure everyone's fine. Quentin and Sarah are both in town, picking up their mail. They both have letters they said they wanted to receive first thing."
Lucas's hand tightened on the bandages, and he wondered if the strange pair had waited in the grove for them while they were out on what sounded very much like a make-work errand. He wondered if Mason was lying about all of this, or if he was what he seemed, a man concerned for his hurt cousin.
Almost as if she read his concern, Clarine let her fingertips drop over the far edge of the divan, away from Mason's eyes. She could just barely touch Lucas's arm, but where she did, he felt a little calmer. At least, he was less apt to grab Mason by the shoulders and demand some answers out of him.
"Tolland, you have been wonderful. Thank you so much for seeing to my ankle. You may go now, and if you could, please send to the kitchen and have Kitty bring up my lunch, please? And something for Mason, too, if he'll stay and keep me company."
"Of course, cousin."
For a moment, Lucas almost balked at the idea of leaving Clarine alone when she had just had such a scare, but he had already pressed his luck by staying as long as he had with her. Instead, he stood and tugged his forelock politely before leaving the room.
I swear to God, if you lay one hand on her head, I will see you hanged...
* * *
9
CHAPTER
NINE
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Clarine felt a light trill of fear once she was alone with Mason. A part of her wanted Lucas to come back, but she knew, or at least, she hoped she knew, that if Mason were actually trying to kill her that he wouldn't do it in the middle of her own house in broad daylight.
Right now, however, he looked the farthest thing from a murderer. He gave her a concerned smile and, until the maid came and went with the food she had requested, he chattered to her of inconsequential things, the weather, whether heat or cold was better for her ankle, and other things until she felt nearly normal. It wasn't until she had a small bite of onion tart in her hand that he looked at her more seriously.
"Really though, are you all right?"
Given that her injury was entirely fabricated, the answer was yes.
Clarine shrugged.
"I'm not badly hurt. I'll probably be back on my feet after a night or two of good rest."
"That wasn't what I was referring to. Clarine, I think someone may be trying to hurt you."
She bit her lip in surprise. Whatever she was expecting Mason to say, it was not that.
"Mason..."
"I... I know it is hardly the topic of polite conversation. But I know what your mother did and how she came to be involved with your father."
Clarine stiffened. "Mason, my mother married my father."
"I know she did. I know he loved her very much. And that she loved him the same way."
Clarine had thought herself mostly immune from the grief she felt for her parents. Still, something about the way Mason spoke made her throat close up and tears sting her eyes. She swallowed hard, blinking back the tears.
"Clarine, I didn't mean to make you cry..."
"No, no, it's my fault. Could I please—"
"Of course."
He gave her handkerchief and waited patiently while she wiped her eyes. When she was done, however, he did not let go of the topic at hand as she hoped he would.
"I know how much your father and mother loved each other. In the end, that's all that I care about, and because you are my family, I care about you as well. Could your mother's past have angered someone, made you a target?"
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. She would have stormed off if she hadn't remembered her 'injured' ankle at the last moment.
"No! My mother lived very quietly, just us and the servants. What in the world are you implying?"
Mason held up his hands, looking apologetic but determined.
"I'm implying nothing, and if you are utterly sure, then I believe you. But someone is trying to hurt you, Clarine. Fenby told me about the cut girth strap, and then this shooting today."
"So, you have the stable boys reporting to you now?" The question came out tart to the point of rudeness.
Mason only smiled.
"He was telling everyone about it when I wanted to go run my hunter in the morning. Clarine, please. I am worried about you."
"Why?" It was the cry of a girl who had been left alone too much as a child and now couldn't imagine a world where someone might be looking out for her. It was strained and hurtful, and she knew it.
Mason's gaze was clear and strong; he had the same eyes as her father, she realized. "Because I care for you. I care for you very much, and when suits are to be made, I hope you will consider mine."
To her shock, he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently, before rising to his feet and leaving.
Suit? Surely, he does not mean...
* * *
"No, it really does sound like he wants to marry you. Sly son of a bitch."
"You don't have to call him that, you know."
Stretched out on his own narrow bed, Lucas gave her a sardonic look. "A man who asks you to 'consider his suit' when you are injured or otherwise impaired is not a man that you want, Clarine. I hope you know that."
"It's not like he was pushing hard."
"A man like that? One who has money and an estate and all the world saying he's a good man? He doesn't need to push hard."
Clarine felt the need to defend her cousin, even as she realized how ridiculous it was. Neither she nor Lucas thought that being at home cleared him of attempted murder.
"All we know is that he was at home. He could have hired someone."
Clarine nodded reluctantly. "And Quentin and Sarah were out, after all."
"And they weren't in town getting their mail, either."
"I heard them talking about it. They both rode in a few hours after we did, and I took their horses. Whoever pays attention to the groom? Both of their mounts looked scuffed, and I know Fenby spent a good half hour picking the burrs out of their tails. They were talking about being in the woods, at least."
Once Upon an Earl_Heirs of High Society_A Regency Romance Book Page 27
