After tending the horses, Justin walked up on her and caught his breath at the sight. She looked to be a creation of the faerie world. Her hair had been braided earlier and tucked under her hat, but since arriving here, she had taken it down. Currently it lay fanned out on the bank behind her. The sun filtered though the leaves dappling her skin and hair in light. She had an arm flung over her eyes to block out any remaining light and let out a little snuffle.
They had not fought anymore since the day of their terrible row. He still did not think she realized the fear he felt when he saw her flying through the air followed by her nonchalant reaction. Did she know that people were killed all the time from riding accidents? She had been lucky to land in a mud hole instead of on a rock. Then she had had the nerve to throw mud at him. Even then, after shaking her thoroughly, he had wanted to kiss her. And then she had taken off on her own, fearing he would not return.
He tried to keep the attraction he felt for her at bay, but it became more difficult the longer he spent in her company. They had not spoken to each other all that much since the fight, only speaking when necessary. He knew her thoughts were wrapped up in her father’s disappearance, and he attempted to respect that. They had also come to a sort of truce about the nights they spent together. After giving her privacy to change, he would go to bed on a pallet she had created for him on the floor. One time he had come up on her asking one of the maids for extra blankets blaming her cold nature for the need.
She continued to wear his shirt as a nightgown. He did not even bother to pack it in his bag anymore. Besides, he had decided if he tried to wear it, he would be in a permanent fix, all day engulfed in her scent. Justin leaned against the tree, watching her sleep peacefully. The only things that belied her stress were the smudges beneath her eyes. She had not lost her appetite nor given into histrionics. Thank goodness for both of those. But she did not share her worry except for during their fight on the day of the storm.
At every village or town they stopped at, he could see the pensiveness set in. Every time they talked to a local vicar, he watched as she held her breath for either confirmation or denial of the death of a man who could be her father. He could hear her toss and turn at night. But, as much as he would like, he refused to go to her.
They were playing at being married, a far cry from the actual act. So instead, he watched from afar, and made certain she took care of herself. He also prayed that they found something out soon, one way or another. She could not keep pushing herself this way. Clarissa also had to realize that they might never find him. Even now he could be lying in a cold, unmarked grave somewhere.
Justin walked over to her side and lowered himself to the ground. He propped his head up with one hand and lay on his side so he could watch her better. An insect that had braved the warm temperatures tried to land on her nose, and he shooed it away so it would not disturb her rest. He watched her forearm move just enough so she could peek past.
“What are you doing?” she asked groggily.
“Saving you from killer insects,” he replied teasingly.
“I guess that is worthy enough for a thank you,” she yawned her reply. She stretched her arms above her head pulling her bodice tight against her breasts. His mouth went dry as he watched. “How long have I been asleep?”
“About half an hour is all. You can sleep longer if you would like.”
“No, then I won’t sleep tonight.”
“You haven’t been sleeping at night anyway.”
“I didn’t think you noticed.”
“I’ve noticed more than you think I do. By the way, thank you for the pallets every night. It is much more comfortable than that first night.” She merely nodded, but a faint blush covered her skin. “Clare, why don’t we get you on the next mail coach back to London or even rent a carriage for you? I promise I will continue searching for your father and send news as soon as I have any.”
“No,” she adamantly refused. “The not knowing would be worse than being here. At least I’m doing something. If I were home, I would be wearing holes in Aunt Gertie’s floors.” He looked at her for a moment then nodded his head in agreement. He relaxed, lying fully against the bank, one hand behind his head. “It’s beautiful right here,” she said softly. Three birds chased each other amongst the trees.
“There has always been at least one beautiful sight this entire journey,” Justin said softly. Clarissa glanced at him and then quickly looked away focusing on other things.
“Look at that deer. My, he’s a big one,” she commented trying to divert his attention.
“Clare, you take my breath away.”
“Please, Justin, no. Not now. We are here to find my father, not each other. I can’t. Do you understand? I have to find him before I even allow myself to consider a future of any kind. Besides that, what do we truly know of each other? We have had scarce over a dozen conversations since we began the search and most of them have ended in arguments.”
“My word. What is it with you women?” he asked, anger and annoyance tinged his voice.
“What are you talking about?”
“I merely gave you a compliment, not asked for your hand in marriage. I was not asking you to be my mistress. I was not asking for a lifetime commitment. I merely said you were beautiful.”
“I’m sorry, I thought...”
“Perhaps you and others of your kind should merely listen to what a man is saying rather than trying to guess what he means. We usually mean exactly what we say,” he pushed himself up and stood towering over her. He fisted one hand on his hip and ran the other through his dark hair, the sun highlighting the auburn strands. “I’m going for a walk. Try not to run off.”
“Southerby, I’m sorry,” she began to apologize.
He held up a hand to stop her. “Say nothing else. I will return.” He turned and stormed off into the trees. She could hear the cracking of twigs under his boots. Birds flew up into the air, startled from their perches by the angry intruder invading their domain. She sat up and pulled her knees close to her chest and rested her chin on them. Everything had been so serene for a change, so calm. Had she truly read more into his words than what he meant?
Clarissa heard the rumbling of wheels on the road behind her. She turned her head to glance at the passing conveyance then turned back to the river. Realization dawned on her, and she quickly flipped over onto her stomach so she could look at the carriage once more. It was a fine, black lacquered carriage that showed to be well maintained. The fading sun shone on it and the shades were pulled over the windows.
The team of horses pulling it looked even smarter than the carriage. All four horses were black, every one of them, with white stockings on their legs. The two leaders had a white star on their forehead. Of course they had already passed her by, but she knew this with absolute certainty. Clarissa knew all of this because the crest on the door of the carriage represented the Duke of Hamilton,, and the horses were his favorites. More importantly, they had been at home when she had left for Gertie’s. Her father had wanted to travel quickly and instead had traveled with a rented hack and horses so he could switch at the coaching inns along the way.
Who was in the carriage? Was it Franklin? Did he have Lorraine with him? Where the devil had Southerby gone? She quickly stood up and slyly followed the carriage on foot. It pulled up to a small cottage just around the bend and off the road about fifty yards. Trees surrounded the hovel, and when the door creaked open, it emitted an old crone. A woman dressed in black from head to toe, including a veil to cover her face, stepped out of the carriage first. She rushed over to the withered old woman and gave her a hug full of warmth and familiarity. Franklin stepped out of the carriage, a black mourning band around his upper sleeve.
A small squeak escaped her, and she quickly dropped to hide in some bushes. All three people turned quickly towards her. She prayed they had not spied her. When she felt brave enough to look once more, the trio was moving into the cottage. Franklin gave on
e more look around before closing the door. What other reason could they have for wearing black? Had they found Papa? Was he truly dead? Why were they here?
She watched so intently that she jumped when she felt a large hand clasp firmly around her mouth. Had Franklin snuck out the back and come for her? Dear God, please help me, she pleaded silently. She squirmed and tried to bite the hand covering her mouth.
“Do not move nor say a word, or I swear by all that is holy, I will take you over my knee again,” the voice whispered viciously into her ear.
The hand loosened a bit and she sagged against Justin in relief. “You frightened me half to death.”
“I thought I told you not to move. What is it going to take for you to learn to do as I say? I am sending you home at the next possible moment.”
“I had to,” she frantically interrupted, shushing him. “Franklin and Lorraine are in that house with an old woman. They are both wearing mourning. What are we going to do?”
“You are going to stay right here while I go have a look.”
“But...”
“You will do as I say this time, or you will not like what I do. Do you understand?” he asked.
“Yes,” she mumbled turning her back on him and watching the cottage through the undergrowth once more. She felt him leave her presence and cursed herself for her attachment to him. Clarissa watched as he disappeared around the far side of the cottage. She saw Justin a few minutes later circling the backside of her father’s carriage. He quickly made his way back to her side.
“Come with me,” he whispered and motioned for her to follow him away from the cottage. She started to argue, but she saw the determined look in his eyes. Clarissa followed him through the undergrowth as quietly as she could. In order to make as little noise as possible, she pulled her skirts up and tucked them into the pantaloons she wore.
They reached the clearing where they had spent the afternoon. Clarissa looked at him with a mixture of fear and hope in her eyes, unsure what she wanted to hear and even less sure as to what he would tell her.
“Your father is in that cottage.”
“Is he dead?” she forced herself to ask the question she dreaded most.
“No, but I don’t believe he is coherent either.”
“What should we do?”
“We need to think about this rationally.”
“Of course.”
“I can’t believe we were so close without knowing. I don’t know why I didn’t check houses besides the vicar and the doctor.”
“We found him, that’s what’s important. Besides that, she would not have admitted to us that Papa was in there. Not if she is working with those two. What are they up to? I want to do something about them, but I’m too worried about Papa at this moment. We’ll deal with them later, won’t we?” Justin remained silent. “Won’t we, Justin?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what exactly we’ve caught them in.”
“Oh,” her face fell.
“Clare, would you go get our horses ready?” He watched as she walked towards the two horses. Justin hadn’t quite told her the truth. Her father looked emaciated, and he lay unconscious on a bed in the corner. There were two men he assumed were paid guards, but had been taking their evening meal in the back allowing him a quick peek through a side window. He did not know what ailed Hamilton, but he knew if he could get him to Scotland and grandmother, he would be hale and hearty in no time.
While Clarissa took care of the horses, he snuck back to the area of the cottage. He arrived just as Franklin and Lorraine stepped out of the cottage.
“We’ll be staying at the estate should you need anything,” the sultry Lorraine called out as she stepped into the carriage. Franklin followed behind her and shut the carriage door before it rolled off into the gathering darkness.
Justin arrived back at the clearing to see Clarissa standing with her hands on her hips. “What do you think you were doing leaving me alone like that?”
“You had the horses for protection,” he replied cheekily, still not completely over their argument this afternoon.
“You’d better have a plan forming or else I might have to harm someone.”
“Then we’re both in luck. I need you to focus for me a moment. How far are we from your father’s estate?” He watched as she blinked at him owlishly for a few moments. She handed him the reins of the horses and began to pace. Clarissa glanced at the brook and then walked to the road. She paced along the side of the road several times. “Well?”
“I’m thinking.” She paced another five minutes working things out. “If we pass through a small village called Raven Brooke, I know exactly where we are. Otherwise, I have no idea. I haven’t been to all of Papa’s properties.”
“All right, we’ll start there.” He helped her up on the horse, and they headed in the same direction the carriage had taken.
“You believe they have went to one of Papa’s estates don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Did they take Papa with them?”
“No.”
“Then let’s go get him,” she tried to turn her horse, but he brought her up short by firmly grabbing her mare’s reins.
“No.”
The single word felt like a verbal slap. “What do you mean? They’re not there, only that old woman.”
“No, there are two men there as well. You didn’t see them because they were in the back supping.”
“Papa could help you.”
“I’m afraid he can’t. I believe your father is ill. Very ill.”
She straightened her back and looked ahead. “Fine. What shall we do?”
“First of all, we find the estate. Then we solicit help.” She nodded her head and led him in the direction she believed the village could be found.
***
After riding for thirty minutes and circling back twice, Justin suggested they stop. Darkness had fallen on the landscape. Tonight no moon shone to guide either them or the horses.
“Why are we stopping?” Agitation tinged Clarissa’s voice.
“I will not risk injuring the horses in the darkness. Besides that, I think it is fairly evident that we are nowhere near the village of Raven Brooke.” He watched Clarissa bow her head dejectedly.
“I had so hoped we were near there. In fact I was almost certain. Now what are we going to do?”
“We need to find something to eat and get some rest. Are Franklin and Lorraine early risers?”
“Not usually.”
“Then we’ll find some place to bed down for the evening and try to find some food. Let’s get down and lead the horses so that we know we will not be endangering them to hidden holes.” Clarissa merely nodded her head and guided her horse behind his. They walked in silence for a quarter hour before Clarissa whispered Justin’s name. He stopped his horse and turned to her inquiringly.
“Do you see that light flickering, or am I imagining things?”
After a moment of contemplation he turned back to her. “I believe you’re right. Let’s stay to the road as much as possible but move in that direction.” She nodded in agreement and followed Justin’s lead. They worked their way towards the light. The closer the got, the brighter it shone. A large gate came into view and they moved the horses off the side of the road. “Does this look familiar?”
“I’m sorry, Justin, but I just don’t know. I don’t trust myself enough to say yes.”
“I understand. Stay here and keep the horses as quiet as possible. I want to look around.”
“Be careful,” she whispered, not happy with being left behind once more. The minutes ticked by into what felt like hours when she heard the distant sound of a dog barking. She heard several shouts and then silence. “Southerby, what have you done?” She made certain the horses were tied securely and began walking to the wall, staying to the shadows. Clarissa stood less than ten feet away when Justin vaulted over the wall. She stepped in front of him and hit him in the shoulder with her fist. He g
rabbed her by the upper arm and frog-marched her towards the copse of trees where he had left her.
“What was that for?”
“I’m tired of your leaving me alone and expecting me to just wait for you like you’re some big strong hero and I’m some damsel waiting to be rescued. Do you understand?”
“Why? Don’t say you were worried about me?”
“What did you see?” she asked ignoring his teasing question.
He found himself wanting to reach for her and pull her close, but instead cleared his throat.
“Southerby, tell me at once. What did you see?” she spaced out each word of the last question allowing her aggravation to show.
“I really don’t know how to broach this with you, Clarissa.”
“For goodness sake, just say it.”
“All right. I saw your step-mother and her brother in an extremely passionate embrace.”
“Your eyes must have been playing tricks on you.”
“No, I know what I saw.”
“You must have mistaken a brotherly hug.”
“Clarissa, they were not hugging.”
“A kiss then. Perhaps he dropped a kiss on her cheek and your angle looked like more.”
“Clarissa, they were not kissing either.” He stopped allowing his words to sink in.
“Do you mean they were...” Her words faded into the night.
“Clarissa, they’re lovers.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she muttered, running for the bushes. She emptied the meager contents of her stomach upon reaching them.
Justin’s stomach turned violently as he listened to Clarissa heaving. He had never reacted well to other people’s sickness, so he made himself scarce. Justin walked to his horse and poured some water from his water skin onto his handkerchief. He walked back over to Clarissa and handed it to her so that she could wipe her face.
“Thank you,” she said weakly. She walked over to a low boulder and sat down heavily. Clarissa lowered her head into her handkerchief-covered hands and let the cool wetness revive her. “Are they that morally corrupt?” she asked into her hands.
To Love and Protect Page 7
