Tears filled her eyes, and her delicate hands in her lap shook. “Was it quick?”
“Yes. He died instantly.”
She nodded, her lips tight.
Bloody hell.
She shuddered, and he realized she was trying to hold in sobs. He reached across the space and pulled her to his side. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I’m so sorry.”
Sobs wracked her body. As a bachelor of the ton, he’d been subjected more than once to fake female tears, which had moved him not at all. But this woman was suffering greatly, and he had no idea how to comfort her. So, he did as he’d done before and just held her in his arms. He handed her his handkerchief, then positioned her head against his chest, rubbing his fingers through her hair.
Eventually, her tears ended. “I apologize, my lord.” She sat up and looked at his chest, dabbing the soggy handkerchief against her cheeks. “I am a watering pot lately, and I believe I have saturated your jacket.”
“No matter. It will give my valet something to complain about, which is what he lives for.” Her grin didn’t quite make it to her eyes.
Some women looked lovely and delicate when they cried. However, Lizzie’s lovely face was blotchy, her eyes red and swollen, and her hair in disarray. Yet, she had never looked more beautiful. Everything male and protective inside him raised its head. Although he’d been wrestling with the order from the Home Secretary, at that moment he decided despite whatever orders he received, he was not going to bring her to London. He would clear her name first.
“Once you are composed, I wish to ask you some questions.”
She took a deep breath. “I am calmer. Sometimes a good cry is beneficial.”
Hawk grinned. “I find a good bout of fisticuffs a better remedy.”
“I suppose that may be the difference between men and women.” Her smile was slight, but true.
He tried very hard not to look imposing. He was familiar with the method used to question suspects, which had been part of his work for the Foreign Office during the war. That was how he had ended up on the Home Office’s list of lords willing to help on occasion—for special tasks.
Sitting before him was a gently reared young lady who had suffered a great deal for something of which she had no part. If he believed her—which he did. Everything he’d seen of her since they’d met, as well as the two years she’d been with Wycliff, told him if she had any nefarious activities in her background, something of that nature would have made itself known before now.
When he’d questioned Wycliff about her comings and goings, his cousin and his countess had painted a picture of a quiet, demure, well-mannered young lady who rarely left the house during her time off and had made no friends in the village. She’d given them no reason whatsoever to suspect she was anything but what she had presented.
“There is a reason why the Home Office questioned you after your father disappeared. It was well known that Loverly had been working with at least one other person. There was a time when it had been suggested that the other person was a woman.”
“Yes, the man who questioned me mentioned that. But I know of no women who were friends with my father. Of course, I didn’t know everything about him—obviously—but all his cronies that he spent time with were men.”
“Did he attend ton events with you?”
Lizzie shook her head. “No, he hired a companion for me at the beginning of the Season.”
Hawk sat up. “Who was the companion?”
For the first time since the discussion started, Lizzie laughed. “Oh, my lord, no, no. I’m sure Miss Wallace was no enemy of the Crown.”
“Tell me about Miss Wallace.”
“She was somewhere in her sixth decade. A lovely woman, who had fallen upon hard times and spent many years with her sister. Once Lady Lockhart passed away, Miss Wallace moved in with an aged aunt and then a grouchy cousin until she accepted the position as my companion.”
Hawk considered. A woman with no means, possibly bitter about her life. It might not be such a stretch to believe she might become involved in a scheme that would provide her with some coin. Even being in her sixth decade.
“I don’t know what you are thinking, my lord, but believe me when I tell you Miss Wallace was a deeply religious person, compassionate, caring, and would never betray her country. When this all came to light, she was as surprised and upset as I’d been.”
Deciding to put that aside for now, but not cross her completely off his list, he asked, “What became of Miss Wallace when you made your escape?”
“She was the only person—besides Lady Franklin, who found the position for me—who knew where I had gone. She secured another position for herself before I left. As far as I know she is still in London with another friend of Lady Franklin’s.”
“Did you keep in touch with her?”
“No. We thought it best if we did not continue our friendship. She’s a lovely lady. Truly she is. I know she did not have anything to do with my father’s doings.”
…
Lizzie hoped Hawk believed her, even though he gave no indication he didn’t. If she couldn’t get him on her side, she had no chance of avoiding an interview with the Home Office. The thought terrified her. She found herself in a position where she had to trust Lord Hawkins, and she wasn’t sure she should.
She had trusted her father to take care of her, and up until the end he had done so quite well. His drunken confession had shattered her world, and a part of her would never feel whole again. “You do believe me, don’t you?”
“Let’s say I believe you believe so.” He pushed back a loose curl from her forehead. “What I want you to do is try to remember your father right before all the accusations became known.”
“I didn’t know anything about it until right before he disappeared.” She hated how anxious and shaky her voice sounded, but she was terrified.
Hawk took her hands in his. “Sweetheart, I want you to calm down. I’m not accusing you of anything, and I’m not saying I doubt you. However, I have learned even though matters are not obvious to us, in the background we are aware of them. Might you have overheard an unfamiliar name mentioned when your father didn’t know you were listening?”
“My first inclination is to say no, but I promise I will consider it.”
“What about ledgers and papers? Did your father have a safe? Or a special place he would keep important documents?”
“I saw him take my mother’s jewels out of the safe in his office one time.” She dabbed at her eyes again. “It was when I turned one and twenty. He said he’d bought them for her himself, so they did not belong to the estate, and he wanted me to have them.” Her voice shook at the end of the sentence. “I am sorry, I’m afraid this brings back memories that I haven’t thought of in two years.”
“And I apologize to have brought them to the surface again. It is certainly not my intention to cause you distress.”
She nodded. “I understand.” She rubbed her head where the beginning of a megrim had made itself known.
Watching her carefully, Hawk said, “For now, let us put all of that aside. Perhaps a short nap might be just the thing. I suspect you could use a rest.”
She made to move to the other side of the carriage, but he held fast. “No, stay here. Rest your head against my chest.” He shifted so his back leaned against the side of the carriage, with Lizzie practically lying on top of him.
“I don’t think this is quite proper.”
“Probably not.” He grinned at her. “But you must admit, I make a fine pillow.”
Despite her reluctance, she settled on his chest, finding it warm and comforting. “A bit hard, though.”
She fell asleep to the sound of his heart beating in her ear and the scent of leather, horses, and Hawk in her nostrils.
“Lizzie?” A soft voice woke her, and at first she couldn’t understand why there was a man in her bedchamber. The second thing she noticed was her head hurt
more than any headache she’d ever had. She raised her hand to block the sunlight coming through the window, making the pain worse.
“Where am I?” Everything looked fuzzy, and she felt odd.
“We’ve stopped at the Red Lion Inn for luncheon.” He studied her as she attempted to sit up, then fell back down again. “Are you well?” He wrapped his arm around her and gently brought her forward to lean against him.
“My head.” It was about all she could get out. She’d never had a pain as bad as this.
The driver opened the door, and Lizzie moaned and shifted so her face was tucked against Hawk’s chest.
“We were stopping for luncheon, but her ladyship is unwell. Please ask the innkeeper for a room, and I will bring her inside when it is ready.” His voice rumbled against her cheek.
Lizzie cringed when the driver closed the door.
“We will stop here for the night, even though it’s early. You cannot continue to travel in a carriage with your head hurting. In fact, I will summon a physician when we get you settled.”
“I don’t think that is necessary.”
“Nevertheless, that is what we shall do. Remember you suffered a head injury not long ago.”
Lizzie might have objected to his highhandedness if she didn’t feel so very terrible. Right now all she wanted was a soft bed, darkness, and a cloth soaked in lavender.
The driver returned and opened the door. “My lord, there is a room already prepared. The innkeeper’s wife will show you when you are ready.”
Hawk shifted forward with Lizzie in his arms. He stood and twisted so he could back out of the coach. He walked slowly, for which she was grateful. But more pressing now than her headache was the nausea. She needed to get to a chamber pot. And soon.
“My lord, I have the room all prepared. If you will follow me.” The innkeeper’s wife led them up the stairs while Lizzie fought to keep her last meal down.
Hawk carried her to the bed and laid her gently down. “My lord, may I speak with the innkeeper’s wife?” Lizzie continued to swallow, but it was becoming harder by the minute to keep her stomach from rebelling.
“Certainly.” He slid his hands out from under her and moved toward the door. “Please assist my wife in undressing. I will send for a doctor.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Lizzie was too sick to worry about them staying at another inn as husband and wife. Right now with the pain she was enduring, the last thing she cared about was being ruined.
“My lady, may I help you with your clothing?”
Lizzie rolled onto her side and whispered, “What I need more than anything right now is a chamber pot. I am about to vomit.”
In one swift movement, the innkeeper’s wife tugged a chamber pot from underneath the bed just in time for Lizzie to make use of it.
Chapter Fourteen
For the second day in a row, Hawk had presented them to an innkeeper as husband and wife. If anyone discovered this subterfuge, Lizzie would never get past the scandal. And he would be forced to ask her to marry him.
That thought did not bring the panic it would have only a few weeks before. Either the fresh air of the country had affected his mind, or being wedded to Lizzie was not an unpleasant idea.
Duty to his title demanded he take a wife at some point and fill his nursery, but he’d decided after he buried his sister that he would marry someone for whom he felt only mild affection and respect. No great love for him. It hurt too much when someone you loved died. It occurred to him that Lizzie would not be a wife he could easily label “affection only.”
So far, they’d been lucky, and hadn’t encountered anyone who would carry tales back to London. Although that was a serious problem, right now he needed to find a physician to look at Lizzie. He was a bit concerned. She’d been quite pale and seemed to be in a great deal of pain.
He lingered in the private dining room, nursing a glass of brandy as he waited for the village physician to arrive. Hawk had never suffered from headaches, but several people of his acquaintance had a penchant for miserable ones. Unfortunately, from what he’d just witnessed, Lizzie fell into that category.
“My lord, the physician has arrived, and I sent him upstairs to your wife.” The innkeeper wiped his hands on a cloth as he entered the room. “Did your lordship wish tea, or a meal, perhaps?”
“I will take a luncheon once the physician has left.” Hawk was torn between going upstairs with the physician or not. He didn’t want to invade Lizzie’s privacy, but he was also concerned for her health. Remembering her recent fall, he decided to venture upstairs to at least make sure the physician knew of that event.
The door stood open, and the physician leaned over Lizzie in the bed, chatting with her. Someone had helped her out of her clothes and dressed her in nightclothes. The window drapes had been drawn, and a lone candle burned on the small table next to her bed.
He looked up as Hawk entered. “Oh, good afternoon, my lord. I was just asking your wife about her health. She says she has a rather nasty headache.”
“Did her ladyship tell you about the toss she took from her horse a few days ago?”
“No.” The physician studied Lizzie. “Did you suffer an injury, my lady?”
“Yes. She was knocked unconscious and was treated with bed rest.” Hawk ignored the narrowing of Lizzie’s eyes at him answering for her. He shrugged. No matter. While she was under his protection, he would act on her behalf. He would not fail someone in his care again.
“I see.” The physician picked up her hand and placed his fingertips to her inner wrist. He waited for about a minute, then dropped her hand. “Did you have these headaches before your fall?”
“Yes. Not to this extent, however.”
The physician looked at Hawk. “I suggest your wife submit to bloodletting.”
“No!” Both Hawk and Lizzie answered at the same time.
The physician stepped back from the bed, his body stiff. “That is my professional opinion, my lord.”
Lizzie closed her eyes and turned her head away from the man.
“What else do you offer in the way of treatment?” Hawk was glad Lizzie agreed with him about the bloodletting. The procedure was certainly helpful in some instances, but he’d never seen the benefit of that method for headaches.
“The only other advice I can offer is rest in the dark, laudanum, and a lavender-scented cool cloth for the head. In most instances, with this type of headache, it’s merely a matter of time passing.”
Hawk stepped to the door to encourage the physician to leave. “Thank you for coming, sir.”
If he’d been surprised at being so summarily dismissed, the physician did not show it. He nodded at Hawk as he walked past him. “Do you have laudanum, my lord?”
“I do.” Lizzie’s soft-spoken words were barely heard.
Once the physician was on his way, Hawk approached the bed. “Where is your laudanum, Lizzie?”
“In my small satchel. But I prefer not to take it just yet. Can you have the innkeeper’s wife send up some tea and a cool cloth? I also have lavender with me.”
“It sounds like you suffer these headaches regularly.”
Lizzie sighed. “Only since my father disappeared.”
Hawk fumbled through her satchel and placed the bottle of laudanum and a smaller bottle of lavender on a table next to the candle. “I will return shortly.”
After instructing the innkeeper to have tea and a cold cloth sent up, he returned to find Lizzie asleep. She looked so young and so peaceful. He hadn’t realized how tense she appeared when awake. No doubt she was concerned about having to face an inquisition at the Home Office.
He pulled up a chair and sat alongside her bed, thinking about the situation thus far. It would take quite a bit of persuasion to convince him that Lizzie had anything to do with her father’s betrayal. After his work with the Foreign Office, he’d learned how to read people. Despite her deception with Wycliff, there was nothing devious about Lizzie.<
br />
Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his arms and studied her. He tried very hard not to concentrate on the rise and fall of her full breasts as she breathed in and out.
Instead he turned his thoughts to the matter at hand. If the saddle girth had been purposely cut—and there was every reason to believe it had been—then Lizzie was in danger. Someone didn’t want her to talk to the Home Secretary. Someone who thought Lizzie either knew something or possessed damaging information that could reveal the person who had worked with Loverly to betray the Crown.
His attention was drawn to the open door as a young lad carried in a tray with tea things on it. Placed alongside the tea pot was a stack of clean cloths. Hawk stood and gestured to the small dresser. “Leave it there, if you will.”
After the youth had set the tray down and left the room, Hawk touched Lizzie’s shoulder. “Lizzie. Tea is here.”
Slowly she opened her eyes and offered him a smile that had his insides warming. He resisted the urge to run far, far away from Lizzie and the feelings he was beginning to have toward her.
Bloody hell.
…
Lizzie had been dreaming about the very man who sat next to her. She didn’t think the thumping of her heart was due to her headache. She was thinking she enjoyed the warmth radiating from the nearness of Hawk’s body and the scent of something spicy and male. She couldn’t help but smile at him as the candle behind her cast a soft glow over them both. “I would love a cup of tea.”
“Here, I will help you sit up and prepare the tea for you.”
He placed his hands under her arms and gently lifted her. She winced at the movement, and he stopped. “Did I hurt you?”
“I’m afraid any movement right now will hurt.”
His jaw tightened as he pulled her up the rest of the way, placing a pillow behind her back. “Is that comfortable? As comfortable as possible, given your headache?”
Captivating the Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love) Page 9
