by Allison Lane
“But this makes it more real.”
“Sketch it. Don’t think.” She would never let herself succumb to hysteria, so he could finish his study before addressing her shock.
He examined the dell more closely. There had to be more. Billy had been behind John. He might have fallen several minutes behind – fury would have kept John running despite the gout – or he might have first tried the path to the village. But others would have passed this way. Yet they’d seen nothing.
It was dark, he reminded himself. And the servants had been looking for men on foot. Still…
He resumed probing the ground with his stick.
“What are you doing?” asked Eden when he’d covered half the clearing.
“Trying to find out why your servants didn’t see John.”
“It was dark.”
“Perhaps Billy rushed by in the dark. Perhaps others did the same. But by the time you came out here, servants were combing the woods. They must have had lanterns. I don’t believe the thief carried John to the stables—”
“He was heavy,” she agreed. “Sixteen stone at least. Larger than the thief.”
“—so he must have been here. Aha!” he added when the stick sank.
“What?”
“There’s a depression behind this tree, just deep enough to hide a body. It’s filled to the brim with leaves, but they’ve been disturbed.”
This time, peeling back the leaves revealed nothing. The thief had probably dragged John this far, then waited for Billy. When the groom went by without stopping, he’d covered the body, smoothed any marks in the dell, then slipped away to fetch a horse. Death had changed his plans. While a thief might escape pursuit fairly easily, killing a gentleman would bring the entire aristocracy after him. Lords didn’t tolerate injury to one of their own. So he had to hide the manner of John’s death by arranging an apparent accident somewhere else.
He shared his thoughts with Eden, ending with, “A riding accident fit John’s habits. The thief was in the area long enough to learn your household routine, so he likely heard of Richard’s oft-repeated prediction that one of John’s wild horses would kill him.”
She nodded, handing him her sketch. “So now we know why he moved John.”
“Maybe. But it doesn’t explain Percy’s—” His eyes suddenly focused on a pebble beside the path. It was no bigger than his thumbnail, but… “Hmmm.”
“What?”
“The rock.” He pointed.
“What about it?”
“There is nothing beneath it.” He walked closer and stared, hands on his hips. A space the size of his palm contained naught but bare earth and one pebble. Three feet away was another. And a third.
Eden inched closer, staring at the three pebbles. “What is wrong with them? There are rocks all over the woods.”
“True, but I’ve not seen two this close together, let alone three in a row. These bare spots are too alike to be an accident of nature. If they had been here long, the stones would have settled into the soil.”
“A marker.”
“One that no one would notice unless they were looking closely.” He sighted along the line. A hundred feet away, nearly hidden behind a screen of young pines, stood the remains of an ancient tree. Half the bark had peeled off. Gaping holes marked where limbs had fallen.
“Stay here,” he said again, staring at the ground as he followed the line. Most of it seemed undisturbed, but one spot showed where a boot had slipped. A cavity on the tree’s far side gaped a foot above eye level. Reaching inside, he felt about…
“Aha.”
He pulled out a handkerchief wrapped around a fist-sized stone. Gray with a bluish cast. Not quite crystal. Warm to the touch.
Shaking his head, he returned to the path and dropped it into Eden’s hand.
“The Sarsos Stone,” she breathed. “I’d recognize it anywhere, but how—”
Alex grinned. “He didn’t dare be caught with the stone while moving the body, or maybe he was double-crossing Percy. Whichever, he hid the stone, intending to retrieve it later.”
She wasn’t listening. A smile lit her face, making her breathtakingly beautiful. “You found it. I can’t believe you really found it. You’re incredible!” The stone fell unnoticed to the ground as she threw her arms around him.
Lust exploded. Lifting her, he twirled in a complete circle, then crushed the brim of her bonnet with his forehead so he could plunder her mouth.
Chapter Eighteen
Alex’s brain shut down as Eden pulled him against her, practically crawling inside his coat. Waiting until they caught Percy no longer seemed necessary.
“You’re mine,” he growled, backing her against a tree. “Forever. Admit it.” His hand slid under her skirt, stroking her leg higher and higher.
“Alex,” she whimpered. “So good…” Her hands fumbled for his buttons. “Need—”
He was already harder than the stone. And hotter. When her hand brushed against him, he nearly passed out from the pleasure. Every encounter was better than the last, whisking him to a realm he’d not known existed, where the prosaic world couldn’t reach them, where mistakes and complaints and incompetence had no meaning.
He bared her mound and cupped her, shaken to find her already wet to his touch.
“Alex! More!” She shuddered, rubbing against his hand, faster and harder until he shook with need. Freeing him, she took him to the brink in seconds. He’d never known anyone who wanted him so much, never—
“Mrs. Marlow!” a voice shouted in the distance. “Mrs. Marlow!”
“Wha—” Eden shook her head.
Alex bit back a curse. He’d been wrong about the prosaic world. She was not yet ready to consider marriage – she remained in deep mourning, after all. Allowing anyone to catch her in a compromising position would make his task harder.
“Sounds like trouble,” he managed, straightening her bonnet as he stepped back. While she smoothed her skirts, he fastened his fall and willed his erection away. “Over here!” he called to the servant.
Eden adjusted her cloak, then picked up the stone and shoved it in her pocket. Alex grabbed her hand and ran toward the house.
“What can have happened?” she panted, her voice still husky from passion.
“Don’t talk. We’ll know soon enough.” But he feared the worst. There was only one thing that would send the staff after Eden. Cold seeped into his bones. Again Percy had outflanked him. If this turned Eden against him…
The footman met them halfway to the ride.
“What’s wrong?” demanded Eden.
“It’s Miss Olivia, ma’am.”
Alex caught Eden as she swayed. “Don’t faint,” he ordered, then fixed the footman with a steady eye. “Is she injured?”
“We don’t know, but Miss Seagal—”
Eden inhaled sharply. “Miss Seagal is here?”
“Inside, ma’am.”
“Let’s go.” She hurried away.
Alex followed her down the ride and through the French window, marveling at how quickly she’d pulled herself together. She dumped her cloak and bonnet on the desk as she crossed the room.
They burst from the study to find Simms in the hall, wringing his hands. Half the staff hovered behind him.
“What’s this about Olivia?” Eden demanded softly to keep her voice from carrying to the drawing room.
Simms straightened, clasping his hands behind his back. “It is Thursday, ma’am.”
“I am aware of that.”
“Miss Higgins rode out, as usual.”
Alex raised his brows.
“She calls on Prudence Seagal every Thursday,” Eden explained. “It is a short ride through our woods, so she usually goes alone. Seagal Manor lies on the edge of the village.”
“I see.” He was already kicking himself for not warning her to stay indoors. He’d known Percy was nearby.
“Miss Seagal arrived a short time ago seeking Miss Higgins,” continued Simms
. “Miss Higgins did not call as expected. I’ve sent Billy to see if she fell in the woods.”
Alex nodded.
Eden inhaled deeply. “Thank you, Simms. You have done well. Send Billy to the drawing room when he returns. For now, I must allay Miss Seagal’s fears. Let us hope that Olivia did not break something vital.”
Alex held her back until the servants left, knowing her last statement had been uttered for their benefit. “She might well have fallen. We would not have heard her if the center track is a straight as you claim.”
“Perhaps not. But if she fell, her horse would have returned by now. Finding the stone explains much. Now we know what Percy seeks. He must have thought I’d gone to London to sell it.”
“Probably. But since Percy didn’t return until several days after John’s death, he must have originally thought he had it – which means the thief gave him a false stone. Perhaps he meant to play Percy false all along, or perhaps John’s death gave him the idea. At that point, he could avoid hanging only by fleeing the country. Ransoming the real stone would provide funds, but Percy is not someone to cross face to face. Handing over a substitute would put him out of reach when Percy received his demands.”
“But Percy killed him, as he’d done with his other accomplices.”
“Once he discovered the substitution, he would have blamed John, which is why he went after you in London and broke in here – he expected you to have the real stone.”
“Now he hopes to barter for it. He’ll offer my most precious possession in exchange. I would do anything for Olivia.” Her voice cracked.
He hugged her close. “We won’t let him win this round, Eden. But first we must deal with Miss Seagal. What sort of girl is she?”
Eden swallowed. “Silly, for the most part. Major Seagal retired from service in India following an injury that left a permanent limp. They moved here shortly after I married John, so it was natural for the two new arrivals to form a friendship. But though she often seems younger than her seventeen years, she can be as disapproving as the stiffest dowager. Almost puritanical. And she is not very bright.”
“Then tell her nothing you don’t want to become common knowledge,” he advised.
“Puritanical young ladies judge first and think afterward.” Sighing, he released her. She was outwardly calm, so he held out his arm. “Let’s see what she has to say.”
* * * *
Miss Seagal huddled before the fire, her face streaked with tears. “Have you found her?” she asked shakily.
“Our groom will return shortly,” Eden said soothingly as Simms arrived with a tray. “I expect she is nursing a sprained ankle. Have some tea, then tell me why you came in person instead of sending a note.” She passed a cup as Alex slipped unobtrusively into the corner to make sure the writing desk containing his notes remained locked.
“I thought I’d got it wrong,” Miss Seagal admitted. “About our visit, I mean. I’d come here last week, but now that Olivia is out of deepest mourning, I assumed—” Her hand fluttered, spilling tea in her lap.
Eden handed her a napkin.
“Forgive me, ma’am,” she murmured. “I’m that upset. At first I thought she was late – she is often delayed. But when it went four with no sign of her, I decided she forgot the day – she would have sent a message if she couldn’t see me.” She shook her head. “So I told Mama what a goose I was and made our coachman spring the horses so I could roast her roundly for being so totty-headed. But then she wasn’t here, either.”
Eden bit her lip.
“Might she have stopped in the village?” asked Alex. “Some emergency that needed tending?”
Miss Seagal jumped.
“Forgive me,” begged Eden. “My wits are wandering.” She introduced Alex as John’s friend and fellow collector, here to evaluate John’s antiquities. “Was there trouble in the village?”
“Nothing,” she swore. “And I can’t believe she would fall on a path she rides so often. I know something’s happened to her. Did she run off?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Eden managed to sound amused. “You have been reading too many gothic novels. Even the best horsemen fall on occasion. I just hope she hasn’t broken anything.”
Alex marveled at Eden’s control. They both knew Olivia had been abducted and that the only way to have spirited her away was if she’d been unconscious.
And he could do nothing but pray that Billy found some clue to her whereabouts. Percy would not return her alive, so Alex would have only one chance to save her. Success demanded perfection. Again. From a man who had made more than his share of mistakes.
Miss Seagal was becoming more incoherent by the minute, despite Eden’s soothing reassurance.
Half an hour passed before Billy returned.
“Ma’am. Sir.” He doffed his cap.
“Is she hurt badly?” asked Eden.
“No, ma’am. She wasn’t there. I searched every foot of the path, and she didn’t pass through the village.”
“I knew she ran away.” Prudence’s hysteria changed to rapacious curiosity. “Not that I’m surprised after my maid reported that you were holding orgies.” She spat the words at Eden.
“What nonsense is this?” demanded Eden, signaling Billy to leave.
“You needn’t deny it,” snapped Prudence. “Wilson got the tale from Polly Morrison.”
“Retaliation,” said Alex calmly. “You are well rid of the girl, Mrs. Marlow.”
“Indeed.” Eden held her head high. “Polly was sneaking out at night to meet a beau, leaving the door unlocked. A vagrant took advantage of her negligence to ransack the study, looking for cash. Fortunately, Mr. Portland caught him before he could escape. You will agree that I had no choice but to turn her off without a character.”
“Truly?”
“Of course. Could you condone such behavior?”
“Well, no.” She frowned.
“And now we see her true colors. Spreading lies to cover her own culpability is beyond acceptable.” Anger snapped in her eyes.
“I think your original fear was correct, Miss Seagal,” said Alex, taking charge of the conversation before anger released Eden’s fear and revealed too much. “In all the excitement over last night’s burglary, Miss Higgins likely forgot the day. She mentioned at breakfast that she’d nothing suitable for half-mourning. Quite distressed about it. She must have dashed off to her dressmaker. She will doubtless return for dinner, embarrassed by her own confusion.”
“I will remind her of proper manners when she does,” added Eden. “There is no excuse for such laxity.”
Miss Seagal took the hint, rising to make her farewells.
Eden escorted her to the door, phrases like unwarranted hysteria and frightening my staff floating back. She was making sure Miss Seagal believed all was well.
But she was frowning when she returned. “Dressmaker?”
“It was all I could think of. I would have mentioned the ailing Mrs. Sommers, but Olivia made that call before lunch, something Miss Seagal will undoubtedly hear, as closely attuned to rumor as she apparently is. We don’t want an avaricious gossip thinking Olivia was abducted. Miss Seagal only came here to prove misbehavior. Besides, I’ve not known a female yet who didn’t descend on her dressmaker at the least excuse.”
“Of course. But do you really believe—”
“That she was abducted? Yes. She’s been gone too long. But I doubt she was heading for Seagal Manor, despite her Thursday routine. Now that we know she did not suffer an accident, we can find out where she did go.”
“She never leaves the grounds without a groom except to visit Prudence.”
“If she had merely gone riding, she would not have told Billy she was going to Seagal. It is possible that she wished to be alone for a time, but I don’t like the way she slipped off.”
“My God! Are you implying she arranged an assignation?”
“I’m not implying anything. But you must agree the situation warrants invest
igation.”
“At this point I would even welcome an elopement with Jeremy,” she admitted glumly.
Alex pulled her close, stroking her back until she relaxed against him. “Don’t give up hope, my dear. Even if my worst fears are realized, we’ll find her. Come. We’ll need horses. It will be too dark to see before long.”
“Of course.” She hugged him hard, then headed for the door.
He followed, again kicking himself. The day he’d arrived at Ridley, Olivia had looked thoroughly kissed. Given Eden’s distrust of young Jeremy, he would not be surprised to discover more than one assignation in Olivia’s past. Opposition made it irresistible. And her friend’s experience would have taught her to tell absolutely no one.
* * * *
Alex stopped Eden at the end of the ride while he dismounted and examined the ground. The soggy turf held tracks well. His footprints and Eden’s walked into the right path and ran back, as did the footman’s. Billy’s horse had trotted in and out of the center path. Olivia’s— He bent closer, then circled a stony spot.
“She took the left trail.”
“To the lake?” Eden sighed in relief. “So she didn’t leave the grounds. There’s a temple on the bank where she often goes to think. Perhaps she fell asleep. That would explain why her horse did not return. He will be tied to the rail.”
“Perhaps.” But he didn’t believe it. The girl had not looked sleepy at lunch. “Come, but stay behind me and watch for any sign that her horse left the trail.”
The left path was brighter than the others, moving in and out of the trees to provide views of the house and gardens. It was also narrow, a cozy walk for a couple but impossible for two horses abreast. Three quarters of the way to the lake, it crossed a stream.
“Stop,” he ordered, staring at the arched bridge.
“It’s quite safe,” Eden assured him. “I’ve never had a horse balk here.”
“Olivia’s did.” Again he dismounted.
“Did she fall?”
“No.” He studied the marks. “The tracks show two horses, but I don’t think she expected company. She emerged from the woods, then wheeled as if to return.”
