A Lady's Vanishing Choices

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A Lady's Vanishing Choices Page 7

by Woodson, Wareeze


  “Nonsense. I’m proud to call you friend.” Linda rolled her eyes. “And such a friend. If you don’t believe me, wait and see. Even in a cast-off gown, you shall outshine all the others.”

  Bethany held up her hand. “Don’t throw the hammer at me. I shall attend, if possible, but that is all I’ll agree to do. Now I’m ready for you to overwhelm me with this breathtaking new gown.”

  “Posh. This won’t take long, and besides, I wanted to show you a new way to arrange your hair instead of your usual knot.” Linda’s tone disparaged that choice. “If you would make the least effort, you would be more than splendid.”

  “Thank you, Linda. I don’t truly have the time today. Let me peek at your gown. I shall let you show me this new style in a few days. I promise.” Bethany followed Linda into her room where her gown lay on the bed.

  Bethany caught her breath at the fine, white satin underdress to be worn beneath a soft pick gauze over-gown. Love knots of ribbons were placed all about the hem and puffed sleeves. “Oh, Linda, it is truly lovely. You’ll be the belle of the ball, I dare say.”

  “If only Laurent thinks so,” Linda sighed and smoothed the folds of her dress with loving fingers.

  “I’d best hurry or I shall be late. Come, walk me to the door.”

  Bethany and Linda went well past the door, all the way to the gate. Reluctant to end the conversation, the girls stood talking. After several minutes, Bethany inched away and turned to leave.

  The rumble of wheels and the wild snorting of a horse drew her attention. She glanced in the direction of the noise and froze at the sight of a gig drawn by an out-of-control horse heading directly towards her. The rattle of boards as the wheels swiped against the fence snapped her out of her immobility. Too late. The wild-eyed horse thudded into her. Before the animal sent her flying, a blast of warm air from its distended nostrils exploded against her face. The impact knocked the breath out of her, and her chest burned like fire while she sailed through empty space.

  Linda’s scream echoed in Bethany’s head when the horse knocked her out of the path of the run-away gig. The vehicle swayed away from Bethany before leaving a cloud of dust in the road swirling into her face.

  Bethany lay winded from the harsh thump. Grit crunched between her clenched teeth and her head whirled. She tried to scramble to her feet, but only gained her knees when a curricle pulled off the road beside her.

  Lord Rivton swiftly reached her side. “How badly are you injured?”

  She struggled to rise on her elbows. A sudden bout of weakness assailed her and nausea clogged her throat.

  “With your permission, let me help you sit.”

  Thankful for any support, even from this antagonistic gentleman, she accepted his offer with a nod. After her agreement, he slid his arm around her shoulders.

  “Are you all right?” Linda’s voice trembled while gazing down the road. “Why didn’t that Bedlamite stop?”

  Taken up with her hammering head and stinging arm, Bethany barely heard her friend. The pain in her hip throbbed through her entire body, focusing all her attention on her discomfort. She gritted her teeth to hold back a moan.

  The vicar erupted out of the cottage, his face pale and filled with distress. “My child. What a dastardly thing to have happened.” He turned to Linda. “Send Sam for the doctor. Be quick about it.”

  With his arm still around her for support, Lord Rivton brushed her hair off her forehead. “There’s blood in your hair. You have a large knot, too.”

  She caught her breath when she gazed into his eyes. His mesmerizing stare snared her, familiar, disturbing and with the same intensity she’d witnessed the first time she’d met him on the lane. Drawn in by his scrutiny, then as now, she withdrew mentally. The cut direct still rankled.

  Royce’s gaze roved over her. “You have blood on your arm. Where else are you injured?”

  At that moment, she became aware of the sting running down to her wrist. Bethany slowly exhaled a shaky breath. “Mostly my shoulder and my arm.”

  Her forearm had a scrape from the elbow to the wrist and her hip felt very little better. She certainly had no intentions of mentioning that to this particular gentleman. Pain radiated throughout her body, but informing him wouldn’t help the situation.

  “Perhaps you should allow me to examine your shoulder before I move you inside.”

  “Certainly you may.” While he examined her shoulder, the heat from his hands traveled through her thin garment down her arm to the tips of her fingers. Much to her dismay, his examination even affected her breathing. His competent control of the situation heightened her reluctant awareness of him, too. He leaned in and the slight sound of his breathing so close to her ear sent a tingle down to her collarbone.

  The vicar hovered over her. “Let’s get you inside.”

  Royce lifted her in his arms. “She’s shaking. Probably shock.”

  “Quite right.” The vicar straightened. “The doctor should be here shortly.”

  A sensation of panic swamped Bethany. Not because of the strength of his arms. She’d been held before. Of course, Perry had been only a young boy, a mere stripling, and this was a man with a man’s strength. Being held so close to him would be an ordeal, but she was more concerned his arm would rest against her throbbing hip. When he lifted her, she couldn’t control a wince.

  “Where else are you injured?”

  “My hip,” she forced out between gritted teeth.

  He headed to the house, his calculating scrutiny never leaving her face. “Then I’ll have you settled in a flash.”

  Linda opened the door and snatched a shawl off of the sofa. “Bring her in here.”

  Royce smiled down at Bethany with gentle concern before he lowered her to the sofa. A butterfly fluttered in her throat, forcing her to catch a quick breath. She swallowed heavily. Strangely bereft when his arms were no longer supporting her, she settled into the sofa. Not that she wanted his embrace. Far from it, but the sensation snatched all the air from the room. She placed her hand on her chest. She should be above such nonsense, especially after he snubbed her earlier in the day. I’m insane.

  “I’ll fetch a bandage and the basilicum powder.” Linda rustled away.

  Royce straightened. “I hesitate to alarm you, but it appeared the driver headed straight for you—deliberately.” Grimly, he eyed Bethany. “Were you able to catch a glimpse of the driver?”

  Bethany gave a shaky laugh. “All I saw was a huge beast charging straight at me. He knocked me down.”

  “Perhaps a good thing, else the gig would have driven directly over you.” Royce’s lips tightened. “I witnessed the entire incident. However, I was too far away to give chase.”

  The world tilted for Bethany. The man in the woods has found me, and he wants to silence me. Cold terror gripped her, but she managed to squeak out in a faint voice, “A murderer tried to run me down.”

  Royce’s expression instantly filled with watchful intensity. “A murderer? So you do know who is responsible.”

  “No. I only saw the horse with his wild eyes and flaring nostrils. Nothing more. I merely assumed—”

  Her uncle erupted into the room. “What’s this? Playing the victim again, I see.” A fierce scowl marred his brow. Glancing around, he offered a rough greeting. “Milord.” He acknowledged Royce with a nod.

  Bethany took a quick breath. Her uncle’s arrival swamped her with dread. She couldn’t mention the murder. Not now that her uncle stood glaring at her. Certainly not to the earl, since he held her in such low esteem. Perhaps it wasn’t a murder after all, but some other skullduggery. Still, there was a reason he wanted her to remain quiet—forever.

  Royce stiffened before he returned Arthur Littleton’s nod.

  “You must excuse my niece. She takes advantage of every opportun
ity to call attention to herself.”

  Royce’s brows shot up.

  A grim smile curled Arthur’s lip. “Indeed, she has done so for years.”

  Bethany cringed while humiliation flooded over her. She’d expected no less from her uncle. Nevertheless, his attitude inflicted yet another wound, pricking her pride.

  In cool tones, Royce said, “Someone deliberately tried to run her down.”

  “To be sure.” Arthur waved a dismissive hand. “She’s always in an inappropriate place at the exact moment of a mishap, fluttering about like a hysterical old maid. Happens all the time. Accident prone, pure carelessness to plague me.”

  “I did say deliberately,” Royce said with a thin thread of annoyance in his voice.

  Arthur eyed him with a speculative glance. “It’s like her to have one of her friends enact such a scene for your benefit.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Damsel in distress and all of that.”

  “And how would she be aware of my movements and exactly where I would be at that moment?” Royce demanded with a scowl.

  Arthur’s lips went tight, but he ignored the question. “If it was deliberate, I’d imagine he is long gone by now.” He lifted his brows. “She’ll watch what she’s about in future. ‘Tis home for you, girl, and right quickly.”

  Before anyone could say another word, the vicar insisted, “She must remain until the doctor arrives. You may safely leave her in my care, milord.”

  Arthur’s face turned red and he barked, “Are you hurt, girl?”

  “A little.” She winced when she shrugged.

  The vicar straightened to his full height. “I insist, milord. I’ll see her home personally.”

  For a long moment, the men stared at one another. “Don’t forget to whom you owe your living.”

  The vicar nodded his head. “Indeed, milord.” He immediately glanced at Royce Carrington, the earl of Rivton.

  “I believe I’m the one that holds your living,” Royce interjected.

  With that, Arthur Littleton glared and stomped out of the house. Royce, along with the others, watched his progress and grimaced when he slammed the door behind him.

  “If you’ll forgive me, I must take my leave as well.” Royce gazed at Bethany before transferring his regard to the vicar. With a slight bow he exited.

  Chapter 9

  Royce questioned the few curious people who had gathered in the roadway, but no one had seen a helpful thing. Deep in thought, he climbed into his curricle and drove away. Obviously, he could question her until his voice failed, and he was certain the lady would not answer a single question in her uncle’s presence. He had noticed the spear of fear, hatred, or something of both, she flashed at her uncle before she glanced down, shielding her gaze.

  Still, someone had certainly tried to run her down. What could Lord Littleton’s niece have done to place herself in such danger? Was she in league with or connected in any way to the traitor? The thought brought him up short. What am I thinking? A pretty face had never come between him and his duty before, and this time would be no exception.

  Caught up in his thoughts of her, he tried to analyze his own reaction. The first time she’d nearly run him off the road, the second at Eleanor’s, and now this. His blood pounded and his body had hardened on all occasions. He gritted his teeth against the slight throbbing of his loins that still lingered.

  Yes, she is more than attractive. Her sable hair drawn up into a knot on top of her head exposed an exquisite face and those eyes—huge, thickly lashed, and alluring. Her soft lips had been slightly parted in pain. The luminous quality of her eyes caught him off guard. This sort of bold attraction was dangerous, the kind that drew emotions. Not good. That shocked him. He wanted no part of love. Love hurt, and love demanded total commitment, something he refused to contemplate.

  A damn shame she wasn’t a more experienced lady. What he wouldn’t pay to wrap her in silks and establish her in a more worthy setting? He drew a deep breath. As a gently bred lady, regardless of her less than attractive garments, she was certainly off limits. After all, as a gentleman and a lord of the realm, he was above such things.

  The tremendous attraction drawing him toward this young lady presented danger to his peace of mind, because he couldn’t simply walk away as he longed to do. He must still discover what undercurrents lurked beneath her serene expression. It was obviously a ploy she used to guard her true self and her fear of something or someone. What had frightened her so badly? He intended to assign that chore to Hopkins. For his own sake, Royce needed to keep his distance.

  He spurted out a savage oath. Exactly what I need—more complications. Royce whipped up the reins and hurried toward Stroter Hall. He leapt down from his curricle and strolled into the stable. The familiar smells of horse, grain, and leather greeted him. “Hopkins.”

  Hopkins, an older man of medium height with a thick trunk and a weathered complexion, emerged from the shadows of the stable. “Milord.”

  Royce removed his gloves. “I have a task for you.”

  Hopkins squinted up at him. “Wot’s the bother now?”

  Royce hesitated while he gathered his thoughts. How do I put this delicately? “There is a lady.”

  “A nother one?”

  Royce grinned. “Keep your tongue between your teeth until I’ve finished.” He shrugged. “This one is in danger for whatever reason. Someone tried to run her down today. I don’t know if she is somehow involved with treason or not.”

  Hopkins gave a low whistle. “Is she pretty, too?”

  Royce hesitated. “A beauty, I dare say. If she were dressed as befits her station, a man might lose his breath when she entered the room.”

  “Ye smitten then?”

  “Certainly not. I want nothing to do with love. Attracted. What man wouldn’t be? But more than that, no.

  “And ye want me to spy on her, see wot’s wot?”

  “Exactly so.” Royce cleared his throat. “She’s cousin to the lady I hope to court, so I’m in a difficult situation.”

  A gleam of amusement appeared in Hopkin’s eyes. “Glad to sniff around some.”

  Royce added, “On all the occasions when I’ve encountered her, she’s been terrified. I must find out why.”

  “Sure thing, gov’n. I’ll set to it right away.”

  A few hours later, before dusk melted into darkness, a coach barreled down the Stroter Hall lane. Royce turned from his attempt to gain his front door at the sound. His cousin’s traveling coach drew to a halt, and John jumped down without the benefit of lowered steps.

  He sported a handsome traveling cloak over his togs, which he flung back in order to assist his petite wife from the carriage. Dressed in the latest fashion, the lady straightened her bonnet on her curls, shook out her skirts, and surveyed her surroundings.

  Certain she could discern very little in the near darkness hiding all but the outline of the two-story house, Royce inhaled a deep breath and reluctantly descended the steps once more. A sliver of dread, mixed with a very small dose of excitement, ran through him. Although he hated to embark on the path to spying again, he welcomed his cousin and his wife with open arms.

  “John.” Royce clapped the newcomer on the back. “Now it starts, but welcome all the same.”

  John chuckled. “Indeed. The soonest is best.”

  Sara reached up and encircled Royce’s neck in a swift embrace. “I shall steal a little kiss.” She brushed her lips across his cheek.

  Royce returned her embrace. “Welcome.”

  “I am so grateful to be out of that carriage. I still haven’t stopped rolling even now.” Sara started up the steps, but halted to wait on the gentlemen.

  John grinned. “Well met, old chap.” His face beamed with pride. “Wait until you hear. We are increasing,” he boaste
d with a laugh.

  Royce examined John from head to toe with a wicked grin. “That’s really something. Are both of you going to deliver at the same time?” He burst into a chortle.

  “Highly amusing,” John growled, then grinned sheepishly.

  Royce’s laughter faded to a grin. “Beg pardon, old chap. I couldn’t resist knocking that cocky smirk off your face, but congratulations are indeed in order.” With a wave of his hand, he invited the couple to enter. “Let’s go inside.”

  “Where is that young scamp, Perry?” John asked.

  Royce’s stomach knotted before he quickly smiled to hide his discomfort. “At this moment, I don’t know.” I hope he isn’t pursuing Bethany. “However, he knows of your impending arrival. He promised to return.”

  Odsworth, the butler, stood at attention inside the hall. He opened the door to the parlor before receiving the cloaks and other gear from the travelers.

  “A light tea, Odsworth,” Royce ordered and followed his cousins.

  Sara stepped into the parlor and sank into the nearest chair. “Thankfully, it’s not moving.” She gazed about. “Quite lovely. I like the striped wall coverings. That cream on ivory is very effective. And your sofa and chairs are all beautiful in that green damask. The dark cherry wood is perfect as well.”

  With a sense of pride, Royce said, “Thank you, Sara. I’m delighted to gain your approval.”

  “Of course, I approve.” She laughed and mischief seemed to dance in her eyes. “I might suggest a few changes, a different arrangement of the furniture, perhaps. And that marvelous fire surround of white marble could use a cherry wood mantle to match the furniture. That sort of thing.”

  “Ah. I knew there would be a catch.”

 

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