by Sara Bennett
Tina wondered if she still grieved for her husband or whether she was too busy grieving for herself. That might sound unkind, but it was understandable. Evelyn was a young and beautiful woman, trapped here in a country manor, with few friends—if her comments could be believed. It was hardly surprising she had fixed her sights on Richard as an escape.
Or am I being too generous to them? Tina asked herself. Perhaps she and Richard are already lovers and intend to marry one day. Perhaps that was just another lie he told me.
“I’m surprised Richard hasn’t mentioned me to you before,” Evelyn said airily, choosing a slice of cake for herself. “He must be keeping me a secret.” And she laughed. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without him. I am so lonely here when he is in town, and I know he is very busy so I don’t like to bother him, but he visits when he can.”
Tina was beginning to feel queasy again, and this time it had nothing to do with riding in a coach. Where Evelyn was concerned it seemed impossible to pin down the fact from the fiction. But one thing was certain—the widow considered Richard her property and was doing her best to warn Tina off.
She didn’t like to admit it to herself, but she was relieved when Richard returned, with Will Jackson, from whatever they’d been doing.
Richard saw immediately from Evelyn’s smug expression and Tina’s disheartened one that things were not going well between them. If he’d had any other option, he would not have brought her here, but he was desperate to protect her, and because he knew his own estate and trusted his servants, this was the best place to be. He’d also wanted to talk with Gregor, his estate manager, to follow up the letter he’d sent. Luckily the man was in his office, but as Evelyn had warned him, Mr. Gregor knew nothing more about the “toff from the north.”
It was just a shame Evelyn was in residence, like a spider at the center of her web. Good Lord, he wouldn’t even put it past her to tell Tina about their ancient affair. Well, there was only one way to head off Evelyn’s nasty tricks, and that was to tell Tina the truth from his own lips.
If she would stay in his company long enough to listen.
“Are the rooms ready for our guests, Evelyn?” he said coolly. “We’ve had a long journey and need to rest.”
Evelyn gave him a hurt look. “I’ll go and see, Richard.”
When she had left the room, Will said, “I hope we’re not putting her to any trouble, Eversham.”
“She only has to order the servants, Will, not too strenuous, even for Evelyn.”
“I say, you’re being rather harsh on her, aren’t you?”
“Oh, Will”—Richard sighed—“please don’t set your cap in that direction. You will only be hurt, believe me.”
“And you’re the expert on setting one’s cap, aren’t you?” Tina said tartly, and stood up. “If you don’t mind, I am rather weary, so I will go to my room now and rest.” She’d reached the door when she stopped and turned back to face them. “Are there any instructions? Should I lock and bolt my door and windows? Should I hide in a cupboard? Up the chimney? I need to know what to do if this man comes upon me unaware.”
Her green eyes were bright with malice, and he wanted to go to her and shake her and then kiss her until she stopped hating him and started loving him again. But unfortunately that wasn’t possible, not yet.
Richard sipped his tea, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. He could see his relaxed attitude was infuriating her. “You don’t need to do anything, Miss Smythe. The situation is completely under my control.”
She gave him one more glare and then marched out.
Will shifted in his seat. “You upset her on purpose, old chap.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“And that’s not entirely true, is it? About the situation being under your control. ”
“Isn’t it?”
“Sutton is out there somewhere, watching and waiting.”
“I am more than capable of protecting Miss Smythe, Will. We wait, we pounce, and we catch him.”
Will still looked doubtful. “You do seem a bit distracted, Richard. You have been ever since you met her.”
“Have I? Why do you think that is, Will?”
Will pondered. “Well, I don’t like to speak ill of any woman, but she seems to me to be a rather willful sort of girl. Rather a handful.”
Richard grinned. “She is, isn’t she? And damned if I don’t like that in a woman.”
Will gave his head a puzzled shake and went off to find his own bed.
Chapter 35
Lady Carol hadn’t taken to her bed, as Tina had feared. In fact she was quite chirpy since the highway robbery; it seemed to have put things into perspective for her in a way nothing else had. And Sir Thomas had a look in his eyes when he smiled at her that made her heart beat just a little bit faster, as it used to when they were young.
Silly really, she knew, but she couldn’t seem to help the way she felt. It was as if they had fallen in love all over again.
“My dear, my dear!”
Her husband’s voice brought her from her reverie, and Lady Carol hurried from her parlor and into the study. She could run quite fast now there was barely any furniture to impede her journey, for although they were still in their home in Mallory Street, the house itself was almost empty.
Sir Thomas was standing at his desk, the day’s post before him. There were several discarded bills, but that was commonplace nowadays. It was the open parcel that caught Lady Carol’s eye, and the gleaming booty within its nest of brown paper wrapping.
“Is that . . . ?”
She came closer, hands clasped, and peered down at her necklace of pearls within the packaging.
“Your pearls, my dear. And my old fob watch, too. Who on earth sent them back to us?”
She stared at him with wide eyes. “The highwayman? But no, he was a repulsive fellow! Those horrid eyes. Such a pale blue color. Like ice. I don’t believe he would do anything so charitable.”
Charles, hearing the commotion, had also arrived in the study, and now he expressed his wonder at the arrival of the parcel. But he’d overheard his mother’s final remarks, and something about them struck a chord in his memory.
“Mama, you haven’t mentioned that fellow’s eyes before.”
“I try not to think about him, Charles,” she retorted.
“Yes, but, Mama I think . . . that is, he sounds very like . . . oh dash it, perhaps I’m making a mountain out of a badger hill.”
“Mole hill, my boy,” Sir Thomas corrected him fondly. “Just tell us what you’re thinking, and we will tell you whether it is important.”
Relieved, Charles proceeded to remind them about Tina’s meeting with the thief in the library at Arlington Hall and what he had since heard of the man’s description.
“Sir Henry spoke to me about it when I went to talk to him about Horace.”
“Poor Horace”—Lady Carol sighed—“but he will go associating with undesirables. Perhaps he has learned his lesson now.”
“Lord Montague is doing his best to free him, but Sir Henry seems to have more power than the prime minister,” Charles grumbled.
“Yes, yes, but what is it about this highwayman that reminded you of Tina’s man?” Sir Thomas interrupted. “Do stick to the point, Charles.”
“His eyes!” Charles burst out. “She said he had cold pale blue eyes. A killer’s eyes.”
Lady Carol shuddered violently, and Sir Thomas had to take her into his arms to comfort her. Charles looked on dubiously.
“I think we should tell Sir Henry,” he said, when he thought his elderly parents had indulged themselves enough in this hugging nonsense. “And that the pearls and fob watch have been returned. It is very odd, and he’ll want to know. It’s the sort of thing that might happen if the thief was sorry and wanted to make amends.”
“That creature who robbed us wouldn’t want to make amends,” Lady Carol said.
“No, but his master might. And from what Sir
Henry said there is a chap in charge of Branson and this thief, someone they call the Captain.”
Sir Thomas nodded. “Very well, Charles, tell Sir Henry if you think it will help to catch this Captain and clear Horace’s name.”
“And bring Tina home!” his wife wailed. “I want my little girl here, safe, with me.”
“Sir Henry says—” began Charles, only to stop as his parents turned to glare at him. “As you please,” he muttered, and retreated from the room. Sir Henry would be very interested in what he had to say, and with luck he might visit Horace at the same time.
Sir Henry was interested, and afterward, with Sir Henry’s permission, Charles did manage to get in to see his friend.
Poor Horace was being kept prisoner at a house not far from Whitehall, and although it was a nice house and certainly not a prison cell, he was still being prevented from leaving.
“It is John Little,” he said as soon as Charles explained about the highwayman.
“But the eyes—”
“No, you fool, not the highwayman. The fellow in charge. I’ve told them, but they won’t listen. I remember seeing him at that inn on the way to Kent. I was going to see that pretty ladybird I was fond of at the time. Her husband was out of the country, and it was the only chance we had. And now the doxy refuses to admit I was with her!”
Horace pulled at his hair in such a way Charles feared he might make himself bald.
“Now, now,” he soothed, “you know we’re all on your side, old chap. Just stay calm, and we’ll get you out of here.”
Horace’s face darkened. “It’s that swine Eversham. He wants Tina, and he thinks with me locked up his way is clear.”
Charles frowned. “Steady on, Horace. Eversham seemed genuinely concerned about Tina, and even Sir Henry believes she is in real danger.”
Horace muttered something his friend chose not to hear. For a time they sat in silence while a clock ticked on the mantel.
“I’ve asked Anne to marry me,” he said at last, a little shyly. “Haven’t told anyone else yet. I’m going to see her father when this business is all over, and I hope he’ll give me his permission.”
Horace eyed him sourly. “Well good luck with that. Maybe I’ll be out of this gaol by the time you have your fortieth wedding anniversary.”
Horace wasn’t himself these days, Charles decided, but he wouldn’t hold it against him. Besides, Charles was far too happy at the moment to spend any time being miserable. He was in love, and if luck was on his side, then soon he would be married to the most beautiful woman in the world.
Sir Henry was mulling over the information Charles Smythe had brought to him. It sounded very strange, and yet his instincts told him there was a connection. Sutton the highwayman had been hanging about the Hall for a reason, and that could well be a meeting with the Captain. Branson had admitted as much although he still insisted the Captain was Lord Horace Gilfoyle. Lord Montague—suddenly Lord Horace’s best friend—was furious and threatening all sorts of action, but so far Sir Henry had managed to keep the reins in his own hands.
Not for long, though. Lord Horace knew some powerful people, and they were all lobbying on his behalf.
He sat down and picked up a pen, dipping it into a pot of ink. He would write at once to Richard in Kent, warning him of the latest developments. Sir Henry just hoped everything down there was going to plan. And from now on, he was going to keep a very close eye on John Little.
Chapter 36
Evelyn Eversham popped her head into Tina’s room after knocking and being asked to enter. “I hope everything is all right, Miss Smythe?”
“Yes, thank you. I am very tired so I will retire now.”
Maria was turning back the covers on the bed, and Tina longed to climb in and close her eyes. Her head was aching, and she wanted nothing more than to forget all her troubles in deep and untroubled sleep.
“You may borrow my personal maid, if you have need of her,” Evelyn went on.
Tina glanced at Maria, aware of her maid’s stiffened back and stony silence. “Thank you, Mrs. Eversham, but Maria has been my maid for many years now.”
“Oh.” Evelyn’s gaze lingered on Tina, as if judging her and finding her wanting. “Well, if you change your mind, my maid always relishes a challenge.”
“Thank you.” Tina didn’t even have the energy to be insulted.
“I will see you in the morning then, Miss Smythe. Oh, by the way, you were asking about Anthony, my husband . . . I should have mentioned that before I married Anthony, I was engaged to Richard, in case he forgets to do so. He has always loved me, but, of course, when Anthony and I were together, there was no question of Richard’s interfering. It is only now that Anthony is dead that Richard has felt able to declare his love for me once more.”
And she was gone, the door closing gently behind her.
“She’s utterly poisonous,” Maria muttered.
Tina was still too stunned to say anything. A bubble of laughter welled up in her throat, but when it came out it was actually a sob. She covered her mouth to stop it, swallowing hard.
“Miss Tina, please don’t listen to her. Archie says she is a terrible woman, and Mr. Eversham is always having trouble with her. He does not love her. It is quite clear to anyone with eyes that he loves you!”
“Maria, I really don’t care. Mr. Eversham and I are nothing to each other. Now I am going to bed.”
And she climbed between the covers and shut her eyes.
She could hear Maria hovering, but eventually her maid drifted off, folding clothing and putting it away, turning down the lamp, and setting the fire screen about the fireplace. Tina was beginning to float into her longed-for sleep when she heard the faint click of the door closing as Maria left the room.
Tina sighed. At last she was alone. Now she could cry all she wanted to. But strangely enough she no longer wanted to. She was sick and tired of the Evershams, and she had more pride than to allow them to make her cry. From now on, she would maintain a dignified disinterest.
Her eyes fluttered closed and she relaxed into the soft mattress, and in another moment she was asleep.
Sutton stood a moment, listening to the world around him, but there was nothing that shouldn’t be there. He’d seen the outriders leaving earlier but didn’t find anything suspicious in it. Doubtless Eversham believed himself safe here and was not expecting Sutton to have followed him from Arlington Hall. There were servants watching the entrances to the house, but they were easy meat to a man like him.
With a cruel twist of his lips, Sutton approached Eversham Manor.
Tina woke in an instant. There was no confusion, no in-between moment when she imagined she was dreaming. She was awake, lying frozen in her bed, a hand hard across her mouth.
She screamed, except she barely made a sound, and then she flung herself about, arms trying to strike out, legs kicking.
He lay on top of her, his heavy weight bearing her down into the soft mattress until it seemed to be swallowing her up like quicksand.
“Tina, in God’s name . . . it’s me . . . it’s Richard . . .”
She stopped, uncertain, peering at him through the gloom.
“Sshh, don’t wake Evelyn, please. She’s still up, creeping around, watching us. That’s why I had to wait so long to come to you. Tina? Can I remove my hand? Will you be quiet now?”
She waited until he took his hand away, and then she wriggled out from under him, as far as possible to the side of the mattress. She was breathing quickly, and her heart was thudding heavily, but that was anger rather than fear.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered furiously. “I thought it was him. Sutton.”
“I’m sorry,” he said regretfully. “I just need to talk to you, Tina, and Evelyn hasn’t left us alone together for a moment since we arrived.”
She was tempted, very tempted, to order him from the room. How dare he frighten her like this? But common sense prevailed. She knew they needed
to talk, that he probably had official things to say to her, and Evelyn had been very evident.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” she said at last, with a trace of huffiness, to let him know she still wasn’t completely appeased.
Richard turned onto his side, facing her, and she found herself doing the same, although there was still a safe distance between them. Just as well, because Tina had no intention of doing anything other than talk.
“I don’t know what Evelyn’s told you—”
“Your sister-in-law and I have no secrets,” she assured him.
Richard gave a groan. “I was afraid of that.”
She watched him, trying to read his expression in the darkness, preparing herself for more lies. She wouldn’t believe him this time, no matter how plausible he was, she’d not be hurt by him again. And yet, as he began to speak, Tina found herself listening despite herself, caught up in his spell.
“I grew up here at Eversham Manor. My brother, Anthony, was three years older than I, and we were the best of friends. We didn’t realize at the time of course, but our life was idyllic until our mother died. She was a great believer in freedom; we played outside—had no lessons until I was six—no formal lessons. In fact our mother was teaching us constantly—we went for long walks on the weald, and she taught us the names of the plants and birds—she was the daughter of a bishop and a very well educated woman. She would read to us every night.”
“Your life does sound idyllic,” Tina said, and found herself smiling before she remembered they were no longer friends and stopped.
“Father would join in at times, but even then he was a rather distant figure. We didn’t realize that it was our mother who made us a family until she died. It was sudden, she didn’t suffer, a failure of her heart the doctor thought. We missed her terribly, but it was worse than that. With her gone everything changed.”
Despite herself Tina found her heart aching for the little boy he’d been then.
“We needed our father, but he just became more distant. Mother was the most important person in our lives, but to him she was his whole life. As time went on and the grief lifted, Anthony and I learned to look to the servants and each other for comfort. We became closer than ever and, being the elder, he took it upon himself to look after me.
