Arabella nodded, sending him a rueful smile. "I will confess that I had been thinking of Mason and the Harpes, but I never truly expected to be accosted that way. I cannot imagine what he thought he would gain."
"Unless," Tony said thoughtfully, "he already knew that you had something that he wanted."
Arabella gasped, her eyes wide. "You mean he was waiting for me?"
"It is a possibility and makes as much sense for what happened as anything else. We must assume that he was not after jewels and such since you are not wearing any. And there is only one thing of value, besides your own sweet self, that I know of that he could have been after."
Arabella couldn't help flushing at Tony's reference to herself, but she caught her breath in alarm as his words sank in. "My deeds!" she nearly squeaked.
"That would be my surmise, and if we go on that assumption, I think it narrows down the list of people who would have attempted to rob you. Who knew, besides myself, of course, that you had the deeds to Greenleigh with you?"
"Well, Mr. Haight, our attorney knew, but I cannot imagine Mr. Haight deciding to rob me. He did not even know where I was going today." Her gaze narrowed. "Besides, the robber was too tall. Haight is a small man and wears spectacles. Which leaves only Daniel Leyton. He knew about the deeds because I made him the same offer I did you, Jeremy's vowels for the deeds to Greenleigh."
"From what I recall of Leyton, he was always on the brink of ruin," Tony said slowly. "And he is the right size for our would-be thief."
They rode along in silence as they considered the situation. "But the deeds themselves would do him no good." Arabella said eventually. "He could not attempt to take Greenleigh from me without exposing the fact that he was the one to steal them in the first place."
Tony flashed her a look. Dryly he asked, "Hasn't the notion of blackmail crossed your mind, sweet? Once he had the deeds, he could extort money from you for their return. And since Leyton is always just a step ahead of the moneylenders, I wouldn't be at all surprised if that was his plan."
"Oh! I hadn't thought of that."
"Well, it is high time you start realizing that not everyone is the honest little citizen that you are!"
The moment of camaraderie between them was gone, and Arabella shot him a frosty look. "Of course, you are correct, I should have been aware of that fact—especially after this afternoon and the deplorable bargain you forced upon me."
"I did not force you, Elf. You made the decision to become my mistress."
Her temper sparking, she glared at him. "You left me no choice—it was either that or see my family thrown out of their home and reduced to poverty."
Tony chuckled, his dark blue eyes dancing. "Oh, sweetheart! Only you would consider it poverty to be compelled to live at Greenleigh and make do on the comfortable fortune your mother left you."
"Do you know," she said sweetly, "that you are the most disagreeable, rude, detestable creature I have ever known? And do not again explain to me the alternative—I might change my mind."
Tony reached down and effortlessly plucked Arabella from the cart. Despite her protests, he positioned her on the saddle in front of him and proceeded to kiss her soundly. Lifting his hard mouth from hers a long, dizzying moment later, he stared down into her dazed features, and said softly, "But you will not, will you?"
Her head spinning, her lips still tingling from the warm imprint of his, Arabella shook her head. "No. I gave my word."
Depositing her back in the cart, he flashed her a bone-melting smile. "It is a good thing that one of us has ethics, is it not?"
"Oh, hush, you wretched beast!" she said crossly. She picked up the reins from the floor of the cart and, clucking softly to Sable, urged the mare forward once again.
Riding alongside of the cart, Tony sent Arabella a surreptitious look, noting in the pale flickering light of the cart lamp that her cheeks were flushed with what he suspected was temper and that her lips were set in a rebellious line.
She was thoroughly incensed with him, and he smiled. Good! He had ruffled her feathers quite enough for one night and once the white frightened look was gone from her face, Tony let her simmer in silence. That was far better for Arabella than being frightened. His mouth thinned. As for Daniel Leyton, that was another matter entirely, and just as soon as he saw Arabella safely to Highview, he was going to pay him a visit. A visit, he rather thought, that Mr. Leyton would find most unpleasant.
Arabella was busy with her own thoughts. Tony had been right; she was annoyed with him and not the least frightened anymore. He was the most outrageously vexing man she knew but, she supposed darkly, she should be grateful for his convenient arrival. Certainly the situation might have had a far different ending if he had not come along when he had. She frowned. How was it, she wondered suspiciously, that he had just happened to be in the right spot at the right time?
Abruptly she demanded, "What were you doing on the road so opportunely?"
"Following you," he returned easily, having expected the question, once she'd had time to consider the situation. "And I cannot tell you how very much I regret the fact that I had not yet caught up with you before your, er, meeting with the robber." His face grew grim. "I do not ever want to feel as I did when I heard that shot ring out, knowing you were on the road alone."
She thought about his explanation, ignoring his words of concern for her safety. Finally, nodding, she came to a conclusion. "I refused your escort home," she said resignedly, "and you, in your usual high-handed, arrogant fashion, decided to escort me to Highview anyway."
"Ah, there you have it, my sweet."
Beyond flashing him an exasperated glance, Arabella said nothing. With no little aggravation she recalled that blithely going his own way, no matter what others may have wished, was one of Tony's most vexing traits—that and not being the least regretful or contrite about it. Arabella's teeth ground together almost audibly. He was indeed the most exasperating, annoying, and enraging man she had ever come across. She slanted him a glance. And the dearest, whispered her heart.
The gleaming lights of the big house at Highview came into view from between the trees, and once they had turned their horses down the long, gently curved carriageway, Tony pulled Sugar to a halt. "I suspect," he said, "that you would prefer to arrive alone. I shall wait here, out of sight, until I see you mount the steps."
Having also pulled her mare to a stop, she sent him a searching look. "How can you be so thoughtful one minute and the next so, so—"
"Provoking? Vexing?" he supplied helpfully, a little smile lurking at the corner of his lips.
"All of those!"
He bent down and brushed a kiss across her mouth. "'Tis part of my great charm, Elf."
Willing to die rather than admit agreement, she snorted, and said, "Well, I must thank even a rascal like you for your efforts this evening."
"Accepted," he replied with a mocking gleam in his eyes.
She gave him a stiff nod, undecided which she would like to do most—slap his handsome face or kiss that taunting mouth. "Very well then. Good evening."
"Until Friday at two o'clock," he reminded softly. "Do not forget that."
"I have not," she snapped, deciding that there would be much satisfaction in slapping that provoking face. She started to drive away when she remembered uneasily another of Tony's traits. Pulling Sable to a stop, she glanced back at him.
"You are not, I trust, going to do something silly like calling upon Daniel Leyton?"
He smiled, and she was not at all reassured. "Now why would I do that?" he asked silkily.
"Because you probably have this ridiculous notion that someone should punish him for what he did—if he did it—and that you are the only person who can do it."
"Go home, Arabella," he said gently. "Do not worry overmuch about Leyton's hide."
It wasn't the answer she wanted, but she was aware that it was the only answer he was going to give her. "I just wish for once," she grumbled as she turned
away and slapped the reins against Sable's haunches, "that you would meet your match and come across someone you cannot charm, bully, or buy."
"But I already have, sweetheart," he muttered under his breath as he watched her speed down the carriageway, the light from the cart lamp bobbing and blinking in the darkness. An oddly vulnerable expression on his face, he waited a few minutes longer until he saw the cart stop in front of the house and her small figure dart up the broad steps of Highview. "Believe me," he repeated again, "I already have."
As he turned Sugar away, his expression changed and was replaced with one that would have given Arabella much to worry about. And now, Tony told himself grimly, for Mr. Leyton.
* * *
Mr. Leyton had troubles enough already without any help from Tony Daggett. The side of his face stinging painfully from the blow from Arabella's whip and his temper sorely tried by the failure of the robbery, he was in an ugly mood when he returned home. He tossed the reins of his lathered horse to the sullen-faced slave who met him at the stable door and stalked away in the direction of the main house. Entering the house through a side door, he made his way to the large room where Arabella had found him earlier in the day. The house was quiet; despite the earliness of the hour, the few servants had been dismissed before he had departed on his mission. His failed mission, he thought with a scowl.
The scarlet scarf was still around his neck, and, with an angry movement, he ripped it off and threw it on the floor. The hat followed. Damn and blast! he thought furiously. Bad enough that the little shrew had held him at bay, but for Daggett to arrive! He was lucky to have escaped with his hide still intact.
The room he entered was in near darkness, the only light coming from a pair of candles burning fitfully in matching brass holders placed on the front edge of his desk. His thoughts as shadowy as the room, he considered what he'd like to have done to that little bitch Arabella as he strode to a long narrow table littered with bottles of liquors and various kinds of glassware. Pouring a snifter of brandy, he quickly downed it and poured another.
Had Daggett recognized him? He doubted it. In the darkness, he would not have even realized that it was Tony Daggett if it had not been for Arabella's calling out his name and the distinctive markings of the horse. Though Sugar had been in the district only a few weeks, the stallion's wide blaze and four high white stockings made him a notable animal, easily remembered and recognized. As for anyone recognizing his own horse, he was not worried—he had ridden a swift, nondescript bay gelding.
Still, he was uneasy. Daggett was unlikely to overlook the incident, and he cursed himself for not remembering Tony's penchant for meddling in affairs that were none of his business. He reminded himself with growing disquiet that Arabella could be considered Daggett's business. Unfinished business at that.
He felt relatively safe. If Tony did confront him, well, he was not unknown for his art of bluffing. As for the telltale whip mark on his face, it would fade in a day or two and, in the meantime, he would make himself unavailable for any meeting with Tony.
Feeling better, Leyton shrugged out of his dark gray coat, dropping it onto a chair. He caught sight of the scarf and hat lying where he had thrown them on the floor and stuffed them out of sight in one of the drawers of the sideboard against the far wall. Except for the red welt on his face, and he could think of a dozen innocent reasons to explain its presence, there was nothing to connect him with an attempted robbery.
His mood lightening, he poured himself the third brandy in five minutes and sprawled comfortably in one of the chairs. He had failed. He could always try again. Although, he admitted, his task would be harder now.
The faint whisper of the French doors as they opened to admit a cloaked figure made him jerk in his chair. Recognizing his guest, he gave a nervous laugh, and said, "Devil take it! I wish you would not creep up on a fellow like that."
The visitor shrugged and, after throwing his cloak on top of Leyton's jacket, helped himself to a snifter of brandy from the table. Swirling the amber-colored liquor, he sniffed the bouquet appreciatively and sank down in a chair across from Leyton.
Taking a sip of the brandy, he drawled, "I have just had a most... interesting experience. Would you like me to tell you about it?"
Leyton stiffened, uneasiness filling him. "Why," he asked with more indifference than he felt, "do you think that I would be interested in your activities?"
"Oh, I just thought you might like to know that your little, ah, masquerade tonight was not unobserved." He smiled as the color drained from Leyton's face. Nodding at the expression on Leyton's face, he added, "Oh, yes. I followed you. Did you think I would not?"
"You followed me?" Leyton repeated.
"Indeed I did and as I said, your actions were most revealing." He smiled, a smile that sent a chill down Leyton's spine. "Now, would you like to tell me what it was that you were so desperate to have from Miss Montgomery that you stooped to robbery? My letter, perhaps? Did you write the directions to Sweet Acres on the back of it? Did you congratulate yourself at the way you had gotten rid of it, right under my very nose?" He laughed nastily. "I am sure that Tony's interference tonight must have given you pause."
Slumping back down in the chair, Leyton muttered. "I do not know what you are talking about."
"Do you not?"
Something in the other man's voice made him nervous, and Leyton added quickly, "I swear to you that I know nothing of any damned letter!"
"I wonder? Surely you were not so stupid that you thought to redeem your current money problems by stealing her deeds?"
His eyes narrowed as something occurred to him.
Amusement flickering across his face, he asked incredulously, "Do not tell me that you planned to extort money from her for their return?"
"I do not know what you are talking about," Leyton insisted sullenly. "What is more, I find your attitude bloody insulting."
"Do you? Well, I suspect that you are going to find Tony's attitude a damned sight more insulting than mine." He took a swallow of his brandy. "How long," he demanded, "do you think it will be before Tony realizes that there is only one person who would have known that Arabella would be out alone tonight?" He laughed contemptuously at the look on Leyton's face. "Hadn't thought of that, had you? You should start. I would be willing to make you a wager, that even as we speak, Tony is planning on paying you a visit this evening."
Deciding that there was no use pretending that he had not attempted to rob Arabella, Leyton asked aggressively, "What if he does? He can prove nothing."
"You are a fool, my friend," drawled the visitor. "And you are making a bad mistake in underestimating Daggett. Tony, unfortunately, has an uncanny way of discovering just what one would rather he did not—believe this. As for not suspecting you, who else would have known where to lie in wait for her?" He sighed. "You know it occurs to me that you are rapidly becoming a distinct liability to me. Once Tony starts sniffing around there is no telling where his nose will lead him."
Leyton got up and, with jerky movements, poured himself another brandy. His voice slightly slurred, he muttered, "I can handle Daggett."
"Just as you did last night?" the other man taunted. "It was stupid to play against him—I could have told you that!" His gaze cold and considering, he added bitingly, "You know you have made several miscalculations lately, but the worst was trying your hand at blackmailing me."
"And I tell you that you are mistaken," Leyton persisted doggedly. "I did not try to blackmail you."
"And I do not believe you," snapped the other man.
Leyton took a long swig of his brandy, bitterly aware that denial was gaining him nothing. Leyton knew the other man too well, had watched him with others and knew that his visitor had him caught like a rat in the coils of a snake and wasn't going to let go—he never did.
Sighing, Leyton admitted, "Oh, very well, you were right. I did try to blackmail you." A whine in his voice, he added, "I had no choice! I was desperate."
/> "And the Montgomery vowels? Was your need so great that you thought to steal that fortune as well as part of mine?"
"I had set the wheels in motion to blackmail you before it was clear just how thoroughly the Montgomery boy could be plucked," Leyton admitted sulkily.
"But you no longer have the vowels, do you?"
Leyton's mouth thinned. "No."
"And so we have come full circle, have we not?"
Leyton did not answer. From the beginning he had known that it was dangerous to try to blackmail the man before him. When the letter had fallen into his hands, it had seemed worth the risk, and it had never occurred to him that his intended victim would ever lay the crime at his door. He glanced thoughtfully at the other man. Everything had gone wrong, and it wasn't likely that he would have such a seemingly easy opportunity again. He decided that his best option would be to cut his losses and try to repair the damage his unwise actions had caused.
It seemed his visitor had come to the same conclusion, for he suddenly smiled, and said amiably, "Since your plot came to nothing, I am inclined to forgive you. But I would warn you, I will not be so forgiving in the future."
Leyton nodded, vastly relieved. His guest made a bad enemy.
"Well, now," said the other man, "let us put the matter from us. Pour me another brandy, and we shall consider how to deal with Tony."
Leyton eagerly complied. Having taken the snifter from his visitor's hand, he turned back to the sideboard and reached for the crystal decanter that held the brandy. "Let me reassure you that you will have no reason to doubt me in the future. My actions were stupid and unworthy."
Concentrating on what he was doing, his back to the room, Leyton was not aware of the other man's swift, silent approach. It was only when the man spoke mere inches from his ear that he was startled by his nearness.
"Indeed they were," purred the visitor. "Pity."
Leyton did not even have time to react as the thin, wicked stiletto slid neatly between his ribs and unerringly into his heart. He gave a little choked sound, his eyes wide with astonishment, as he slowly crumpled to the floor, the brandy spilling from the snifter he still held in his hand.
At Long Last Page 7