As much as he tried to fight this, there was no denying this was not some primitive attraction. Though that only meant he had to fight harder. He would not hurt Louisa for all the world.
He finished his food and took Louisa’s empty plate to stack them on the side table. “We should head to Mrs. Stanton’s.”
Nodding, she stood and straightened her skirts. “The sooner we prove this man is not who he says he is, the better.”
“Then what shall you do with him?”
She stilled, a hand halfway to smoothing her hair back. A crinkle appeared between her brows. “I had not thought that through really. I would have said simply send him away but after last night...”
“If he put his friends up to that, he deserves to see justice,” Knight said, grimly.
“But Abigail...”
He lifted a shoulder. Abigail needed someone better than that man in her life, but he knew it was not as easy as that. His mother might have left his father years ago if she was not utterly dependent on him. He might have mourned her death after Julianna was born, but he’d been relieved she’d been able to escape him in a way—and somehow it had guilted his father into behaving in a relatively decent manner with Julianna.
“Let us persuade her she must reveal him for who he is first,” he suggested. “Then we can worry what to do about him.”
The carriage awaited them at the front of the tavern, causing a few angry shouts and curses as it blocked one side of the road. The driver waved the irate people on with a dismissive hand while one of the footmen opened the door. Knight would look forward to being rid of this carriage too. He had every intention of sending Louisa and Abigail back in it. They would arrive home safely and with haste. As much as he wanted to get this business with the family estate settled, he would take the delays that would come with travelling with mail coaches and shared transport so long as Louisa was safe.
He would not miss the pomp that came with a private carriage either. He didn’t know how Red did it all the time.
Louisa tapped her fingers against the window ledge. He rested his hands on his thighs and bunched his muscles to avoid the temptation to lean over and curl a hand over her fingers. She hadn’t said much about the men who tried to hurt her, and knowing Louisa, she would dismiss any comforting words he could manage. He still felt he had to try, however.
Knight unfurled a hand and lifted it, flattening it hesitantly on her shoulder. Clearly lost in thought, she jumped, and he withdrew his hand quickly.
“Forgive me.”
She shook her head. “No, sorry. I was just thinking...”
“I only wanted to say...that is...you were brave indeed last night.”
Her lips curved. “Thank you, Knight.”
“You’re, um, welcome.” He snapped his attention to outside. Curses. What a damned fool he must sound. He should never try to comfort a woman ever again.
The busy roads ensured their journey lasted for more uncomfortable minutes than he wanted, but he noted Louisa’s fidgeting had ceased and the concerned expression puckering her brow relaxed.
The driver pulled the carriage to a halt where they’d stopped previously, and they made their way through the tight alleys, Knight leading the way with ease now they knew where they were going. He paused when the house came into sight, and Louisa stumbled into him.
“What...” Her words died as she peered around him.
The door to Mrs. Stanton’s house was open, hanging from its hinges. Wood splinters revealed exactly how it was forced open and the boot print marring the flecked paint was sizeable.
“Oh no.” A hand to her mouth, Louisa shook her head slowly. “Oh no,” she repeated.
Knight inhaled slowly. Apparently Louisa had not been the only one attacked last night.
Chapter Fourteen
Dried wax clung to the wall sconce in ugly white rivulets. It must have been left burning unattended for a while. What few belongings Abigail possessed were spilled across the gloomy room—the straw mattress tossed over and sheets strewn everywhere. The bassinet from the corner of the room was gone and a storage box lay upside down, cracked.
Nausea rose in Louisa’s throat. Her room had looked similar after Eli and his men attacked her. Had the same thing happened to Abigail and the children? She cast a glance at Knight’s grim expression. He met her gaze, and she could see the answer—something terrible had happened to them.
“What sort of person would hurt children?” She moved to stand in the center of the squalid room and eyed the desolation.
“The sort who would hurt a woman,” Knight said, his jaw tight.
A hand to her mouth, she surveyed the room again, as though she might spot something that would tell her otherwise—that the children and Abigail were safe and had simply left for the day.
“I’ll go and find out if anyone saw anything.” Knight ducked out of the building, leaving the door ajar.
Strips of leaden-tinged daylight highlighted the devastation. A splintered chair sat abandoned on the floor as though it had been thrown against the wall in a fit of anger. Wind whistled down the chimney into the empty fireplace. She wrapped her arms about herself and shuddered. Oh Lord, what had she done? She’d brought this upon Abigail.
A hand to her arm made her whirl, a fist raised. She dropped it and sagged. “Forgive me.”
Knight shook his head and frowned. “You are upset.”
“Of course.” Her voice wavered slightly. “Are you not?”
“Yes, but...” His frown deepened. He reached up and swiped a tear from her cheek, leaving a cool patch on her skin.
She sniffed and swiped a hand across her eyes. “I did this.” She motioned to the barren room.
“Eli and his friends did this.”
“No, what I mean is...this is my fault. If I had not started asking questions, if I had stayed put in Cornwall...” She drew in a breath. None of it would have happened. Including bedding Knight.
And somehow she could not bring herself to regret that even though she had not lied when she had said they should not let it happen again. As much as she’d been frustrated by his reticence in the heat of the moment, the morning light had brought clarity and reminded her of all the reasons they should not be risking such behavior.
Especially when her heart began to ache every time she was near him. He made it clear he had no interest in having a woman in his life, and she would have to remember that.
“If you had stayed in Cornwall, we would not have found out about Hugh’s ruse, and you would lose the inn.” He took her arms in his hands, forcing her gaze to his. “This is all Hugh’s doing. Not yours, Louisa.”
There it was again. Her name on his lips, soft but penetrating, like cupid’s arrow aimed straight for her heart—piercing but with benevolent intentions. Her heart gave a little flutter as she looked into those deep, dark eyes. She glanced away before she gave anything away. They’d vowed to forget it a mere hour or so ago. She could not reveal she was weakening already.
She gulped past the tightening in her throat. “Did anyone see anything?”
He shook his head and removed his hat, tucking it under his arm and shoving a hand through his dark hair. Louisa fought to prevent herself from watching the display, recalling how those thick strands had felt between her fingers.
“Have you looked around?” he asked. “Seen if there is anything to tell us where she went?”
“No,” she admitted. She’d been too wrapped up in her guilt to think of doing something useful. What clues could there possibly be in this small dwelling, though? She rotated, surveying every inch of the room and frowned. “If this was Eli and his accomplices, why would they have come for me?”
Knight’s expression eased. “Abigail and the children must have escaped unharmed or else they would not have needed to come for you. Abigail is the one who can identify Hugh.”
A wave of relief washed over her, making her sag. She dropped onto the one unharmed chair and rested her chin on a h
and. “Thank goodness. But where could they have gone?”
He lifted a shoulder. “No one could tell me much of her. No family in the area it seems.”
A piece of paper crumpled up in the fire place caught Louisa’s eye. She narrowed her gaze and rose to look closer. Plucking it up, she unfolded it. The writing was poor and smudged, as though written in haste. Knight peered over her shoulder.
“Abigail cannot have written this surely?” Not many women of her status could write. Louisa had been lucky that her father had insisted on teaching her before she worked on their farm, insisting that she would do better for herself. She tilted her head and eyed the words. “It makes no sense, either. But look—” She jabbed at the letter “—my name.”
“It’s in code.”
Louisa twisted to view Knight, her heart jolting at his nearness. “Code?”
He nodded and took the letter from her. “We used it in France. Perhaps Abigail learned it from Hugh if he served, though few foot soldiers acquired the skill.” He smirked. “I was a mere extra body, but I could read and write so I was tasked with communications at times.”
She opened her mouth and closed it. The life Knight had led before coming to Cornwall was full of tragic stories, she was certain of it. Drake—who was injured in battle—still suffered because of his experiences at times, according to Julianna. She had no doubt Knight had endured similar moments. If only he would open up to her about them.
Oh Lord, what was she thinking? This was Knight. He opened up to no one. She needed to cease these foolish wanderings of her mind and concentrate on the problem at hand.
“Can you decipher it? Is it from Abigail?” she pressed.
He ran his gaze over the letter a few times, his mouth moving silently with the words. “She sought shelter outside of town. A farmhouse four miles east, it says.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “She must have known they were coming for her.”
Louisa pressed a hand to her stomach. How did Abigail make it four miles with all those young children in the dead of night? Would they have arrived unmolested? Oh dear, if only they’d stayed with her or persuaded her to come with them or—
“There was nothing you could do. You could not have predicted this.”
She snapped her gaze up to his. How on earth did he read her so easily?
“I just wish...” She sighed. “I do not know, but I wish none of this had ever happened.”
Knight’s expression shuttered just as a flash of hurt creased his face. She cursed herself inwardly. That wasn’t what she had meant. Perhaps nothing should have ever happened between them, but she could not bring herself to wish it away.
“Knight...” She put a hand to his arm.
“We had better make haste. We need to ensure Abigail and the children are safe.” He folded the letter and tucked it into his breast pocket then put his hat back on.
“Of course.” Louisa straightened her shoulders and followed him out of the building, drawing the lopsided door shut behind her.
Knight directed the carriage driver to head east out of the town but vehicles clogged the streets, slowing their progress into the countryside. Louisa pressed a breath through her nose and twined her hands together. When she got her hands on Hugh...
“There’s a farmhouse. That must be it.”
Louisa looked in the direction to which Knight pointed. A ramshackle farmhouse broke the empty fields, its red brick a stark contrast to the yellowed fields around it. White sash windows peered out at the surrounding land and Louisa heard a dog barking as they neared.
Knight rapped his knuckles on the roof and the carriage rolled to a stop. Louisa had to force herself to disembark slowly from the vehicle. Lord, she prayed Abigail and the children were safe. She’d never forgive herself if she’d muddled them up in this and brought harm upon them.
A large scruffy dog with a coat of gray and pale-yellow streaks bounded up to Knight, barking. Knight paused and eyed the animal. Louisa grimaced. No doubt the animal saw Knight as a threat given his size.
“Here, doggy,” she called softly in a bid to distract him.
Knight tried to take a step forward but the dog shadowed him, preventing him from moving. Shaking his head, Knight dropped slowly to a crouch and offered out his hand. She could not make out what he was saying, but he murmured something to the animal.
“Perhaps I should—” Louisa paused when she noticed the dog had ceased barking. She cocked her head and observed as the dog slowly approached Knight, giving his fingers a tentative sniff then a lick. Knight scratched the animal’s head and the dog leaned into his hand.
“You are good with animals,” she murmured, unable to keep the astonishment out of her voice.
Knight shrugged his great shoulders. “We had dogs on my father’s estate.” He rose slowly and the dog lost interest and headed back to the house. “He is only doing his duty and protecting his property.”
The front door opened before they reached it and a short lady with a white frilly cap tied around her head stepped out. Before she could say anything, a man barreled up to them from the courtyard, a rifle in hand.
Chapter Fifteen
“Get away or I’ll shoot,” the man warned.
Knight peered down at the farmer and the gun clasped in trembling hands. He doubted the man was quaking with nerves—he was tall, a little thin, but strong from farm work, and seething with anger. His cheeks were red, his nostrils flaring. If it were just Knight, he would not be so concerned. After all, he’d taken many a rifle shot and lived. However, he was not willing to put Louisa in danger. Knight lifted both palms in surrender.
“Oh, Samuel, put the gun down!” The woman hastened over, flapping a handkerchief in her hand at the farmer. “Abigail says they are friends.”
Knight peered around the man and the barrel pointing at his gut to spy Abigail in the doorway of the farmhouse with the baby in her arms.
“Oh thank goodness,” Louisa exclaimed. “She’s safe.”
“We are not, though,” Knight muttered.
“Samuel, lower the gun!” the older woman insisted. “I will not have you shooting anyone in front of the children.”
The man lifted a thick gray brow and eyed Knight up and down. “Are you certain these are her friends, Barbara?”
“Yes, yes.” The woman fluttered her hands at him. “Put down the gun!”
Louisa took a step forward and the farmer shifted his gun toward her. Knight had to force himself to remain still lest the farmer mistake a sudden movement as a threat but, damn, it took every ounce of his willpower not to jump between her and that long barrel aimed directly at her heart.
“We are her friends,” Louisa insisted, her tone placatory. “We came to ensure she and the children were safe. The men who threatened her also threatened me.”
Samuel narrowed his gaze and a few heavy heartbeats passed. He finally nodded and lowered the barrel. “Never can be too careful.”
“I am glad someone so diligent in looking after Abigail. Please, can we speak with her?” Louisa asked.
“She is mighty shaken,” Barbara explained. “And you say those men tried to harm you? Oh you poor thing, you must have been terrified too.”
“I am well enough,” Louisa said with a smile.
Barbara smiled. “I imagine your husband here ensured they did not set a hand on you. Unfortunately that useless husband of Mrs. Stanton’s had vanished, leaving her all alone and defenseless.”
“I can defend her,” Samuel said with a grunt.
“Yes, we know, dear.” Barbara waved a dismissive hand. “You are strong and are as good an aim as you always were.” Barbara took Louisa’s arm. “Will you not come in? The fire is lit, and I have just warmed a kettle.”
Louisa nodded gratefully and allowed herself to be led into the house. The dog on their heels, Knight and Samuel followed after them.
“Sorry for the welcome.” Samuel glanced at Knight. “My wife tasked me with keeping Mrs. Stanton safe, and she would
have my neck if I let her get hurt. Besides, she’s a good girl and doesn’t deserve this rotten situation.” The man shook his head. “Who threatens women and children anyway?”
Knight ignored the apology. It was not the first time he’d been threatened with a gun and it would not be the last. Unfortunately his size and face attracted trouble.
“The men behind this have been locked up for now. The innkeeper where we are staying will press charges and ensure they are punished,” Knight told him.
“Ah, indeed. So they caused more trouble, did they?” Samuel shook his head. “What a sorry state of affairs.”
Barbara led them into a wide kitchen with low beams that forced Knight to angle his head. True to her word, a fire crackled in the grate and the scent of wood smoke wrapped about the room. A generous dining table occupied the center of the room. Several of the children could be heard running about one of the other rooms while the baby slept peacefully in Abigail’s arms. Abigail herself appeared tired but unharmed.
“Will you not sit?” Barbara invited. “Did I hear it right that these men have been apprehended?”
“Is it true?” Abigail asked.
Knight nodded as Louisa sat. “They broke into Louisa’s room and tried to harm her. They have been apprehended and will face punishment.” Knight sank gratefully onto one of the chairs and rubbed the slight ache from his neck. “Did they try to harm you?”
Abigail eased onto a chair as well while Barbara busied herself pouring what smelled to be strong coffee into mugs for them all. Samuel kept a watchful eye over the proceedings, his gun resting in his arms much like Abigail’s baby rested in hers.
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