And then she heard a low, menacing growl from behind her.
Winnie shot to her feet and was about to run toward the tents when Captain Mariner returned. “What’s wrong?”
Her heart was still lodged in her throat, and she was shaking. She didn’t need to look in a mirror to know the blood had drained from her face. She’d paled as soon as she’d heard that growl. “Those dogs are back. I heard them again.”
He set down their food and withdrew his sword from its scabbard. “Go back to the fair. Wait for me by the maypole. You’ll be safest there.”
She bent to retrieve the food.
“Leave it. I’ll buy us some more.” She meant to protest, but his gaze was on a nearby house, one that stood at the edge of the meadow. “I see them back there. Go quickly, Winnie. I don’t want them getting anywhere near you.”
Although she didn’t wish to leave him, she knew that her presence would only distract him. He’d worry about her safety. She’d never forgive herself if he took his eyes off those beasts just as they lunged for him.
“Very well, but I’ll get help.” Already breathless from fear, she turned and ran.
The meadow wasn’t very big, and she quickly made it past the tents to the center of the fairgrounds, where Lady Darkwell’s throne had been set up. She and her husband were seated there engaged in what appeared to be a serious conversation. “Those dogs are back!” she cried, interrupting them, for nothing could be more important than protecting the villagers from these bloodthirsty beasts. “Captain Mariner needs help to fight them off.”
Lady Darkwell and her husband exchanged glances. Did they not believe her? “Please, he’s fighting them off alone. Hurry!”
“Who? Never heard of the man.” Lord Darkwell seemed not at all moved by her pleas. In truth, she’d never seen anyone more reluctant to help another fellow.
She sought out Mr. Mortimer, another of their prominent residents, a widower with two daughters close in age to Winnie. He was in his cups and eyeing her a little too avidly for her liking, but he finally managed to listen to her.
By the time Winnie convinced him and several other villagers, and then returned to the spot where she and Captain Mariner had been seated, there was no trace of the captain or the dogs. The plates he’d set on the ground were also gone.
She looked around.
Where was he?
There were no woods close by. The fair had been set up in the open field with only a few sturdy oaks to lend shade. Beyond the meadow was the often-used road, and beyond the road were shops and houses. Had she imagined the dogs?
She could not have imagined Captain Mariner. However, Mr. Mortimer, and the others who had followed at her bidding were now looking at her as though she’d perpetrated a hoax. “I’m telling you the truth! The dogs were here. So was—”
“Enough, Lady Winifred! You’ve had your jest at our expense.” Lord Darkwell marched toward them. Ignoring her further attempt to explain, he brusquely turned away, motioning for the others to follow him back to the fair. They all did, but not before she’d received several more frowns and glowers… and an avid leer from Mr. Mortimer.
The fair had lost its pleasure for her, and although the festivities would continue late into the evening, she decided to return to Kingsley Hall now. The brightly gleaming sun had not offered much protection from those dogs, but she still felt safer walking home in daylight and couldn’t begin to imagine the dangers she’d encounter under a moonlit darkness.
Where was Captain Mariner? Was he injured? She picked up a sturdy branch lying on the grass to use as a weapon and started toward the house at the edge of the meadow where she’d last heard the dogs. She had just reached it and was about to creep behind the house when Captain Mariner suddenly turned the corner and appeared before her.
She was so relieved to see him that she dropped her weapon and ran her hands over his arms and shoulders to make certain he was not injured. Her touch seemed to alarm him, and he took a step back. “What are you doing?”
“Making certain you aren’t hurt. I’m sorry.” Her eyes widened, and the heat of a blush ran up her cheeks. “You must think me brazen, but I was truly worried about you and not thinking of manners or propriety. Are you hurt? You don’t appear to be, thank goodness.”
He remained silent a long moment, once again not responding to her question. The man was perfect in many ways, but his failure to respond to even the most innocent of questions was quite irritating. She sighed and shook her head. “No, Winnie,” she said to herself, mimicking his deep and resonant voice, “as you can see by my manly magnificence, I’m uninjured. Not a mark on me. Those pitiful dogs were dazzled by my presence and ran off in terror at the sight of me and my enormous broadsword… which is also magnificent… if I do say so myself.”
He did not so much as crack a smile.
She sighed again and was about to walk behind the house to inspect the damage, assuming there was any, when he stepped in front of her. “Don’t. They didn’t run off. I haven’t buried them yet.”
Her legs grew weak, and this time she noticed traces of blood against the glinting steel of his blade. Dark red against cold gray. “Buried them?” She leaned against the cool stone wall of the house for support. The rough stone dug into her skin through the light fabric of her costume, but she hardly noticed. “Are they all dead?”
He frowned. “No. I managed to kill the most savage ones. There’s no telling how many others are still hiding in the woods. Do you think you can walk? I had better take you home. I’ll do so as soon as I… clean up this mess.”
“Yes. Please.” She longed for the safety of familiar surroundings. She also knew that she had to invite Captain Mariner into her home despite the scandal it would cause if anyone ever found out. She was unmarried, and he was too handsome by far. No one would believe that their time together had been spent in innocent conversation.
But who was to know they’d spent any time alone? The servants would never tattle. Indeed, there was no risk at all. The few servants engaged at Kingsley Hall would not return until much later this evening, and most would be too drunk to notice that two plates and two cups had been used. As a precaution, she would wash and dry them as soon as she and Captain Mariner finished supper.
She pursed her lips, realizing that she couldn’t allow the captain to sleep inside the house. Would he be offended if she offered him shelter in the barn for the night and a blanket to ward off the chill? She would also provide a hearty breakfast to see him off on his journey in the morning.
She briefly wondered where was he going, for he hadn’t mentioned it. Did it matter? She was glad he was here now and knew she would miss him once he was gone.
It didn’t take him very long to finish burying the dogs. They walked to the manor in silence, the captain slowing his long strides to match her pace. He paused when they reached the gate where they’d first met a few hours ago. Indeed, no more than a few hours had passed and she felt as though she’d known him forever, for she was that comfortable in his presence. “Please come in, Captain Mariner. Are you hungry?” She shook her head and smiled. “We never got to eat anything at the fair.”
He surprised her by returning her smile with one of his own. To be sure, it was the barest upward tilt at the corners of his lips, but it still counted as a smile. “You needn’t go to the trouble.”
“You saved my life,” she said with a slight tremor to her voice. “Setting out a meal for you is no bother at all. It won’t be fancy fare, but our cook is very good and the stew she made last night will still be tasty once heated. I’ll need some help to start a fire in the hearth. Would you mind?”
He arched an eyebrow as though to indicate he was more than capable of handling that simple chore. “Not at all. Lead the way.”
They walked up the drive together, but when they reached the entrance to the manor house, he stopped in front of it as though reluctant to step in. Winnie opened the door and motioned for him to follow her inside.
“Please do come in. You’re most welcome.”
He stepped inside and paused in the entry hall, seeming to take up the entire space. He was a big man and appeared even larger within the constraints of the four walls. That she was alone with this gentleman who resembled a Viking warrior-pirate and carried his weapon as though it were a natural part of his body ought to have concerned her, but it didn’t.
There was something so familiar about him… as though he were someone she ought to remember from her past.
Or someone familiar from her dreams.
The handsome prince whose face she could never quite make out, but he always saved her from fire-breathing, winged dragons and despicable villains, and he fought splendid battles and—
“Winnie,” he said, running a hand through his long blond hair and seeming to study the manor house as though it were a castle in need of fortification, “others may call on you this evening. Do not invite them in.”
She tipped her head in surprise. “Why ever not? It would be rude to turn anyone away.” Except Mr. Mortimer who had imbibed too much and would not be calling upon her with any proper intentions in mind, assuming he decided to call upon her at all. The lout. She’d complain to his daughters if he didn’t straighten up and behave.
Captain Mariner continued to study their surroundings, regarding each room as a potential battlefield and scouting out the best location to mount a defense. “You must do as I ask. They won’t be friends.”
The seriousness of his gaze sent a sudden shiver up her spine. “Are you in trouble, Captain?” Goodness, he’d saved her twice and she could not turn away from him now. She had to help him in any way possible. “Would these callers be after you?”
“No, Winnie,” he said, his tone mirthless as he studied her for a disconcertingly long moment. “I’m afraid it’s you these fiends are after.”
“But why?” she asked as the import of his words struck home. “No, it’s all a mistake.”
“No mistake.” He folded his arms across his chest and slowly circled her. “Definitely you.”
Chapter Three
“It isn’t possible.” Winnie would have believed Captain Mariner deranged were it not for those strange dogs that had twice attempted to attack her. “I’ve lived in this quiet village all my life and have no enemies.” She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “Save Lady Darkwell who never liked me very much, but she doesn’t like anybody so that doesn’t really count.”
She stood in the center of the entry hall and watched as he bolted the front door and began to shutter the windows. “What are you doing? We’ll need light to move about.”
“Use those candles on the table. And here, we’ll use this lamp.” He strode into the cluttered parlor and took one off a smaller table by the faded settee. He withdrew a box of matchsticks from his vest pocket and with a flick of his wrist over the lamp, he mustered a small, golden flame.
She blinked her eyes. “You did that quite efficiently. Are you a lamplighter by trade?”
“I’ll explain who I am later. I fear your visitors will be here soon after nightfall. You’d better have something to eat now. There won’t be time later.”
“This is all ridiculously mysterious. Very well. I’ll go into the kitchen and heat up something for us.” But she didn’t immediately attend to the task. He was still closing shutters and checking windows and doors. She found his actions most disconcerting. Had she misjudged him and was he preparing to trap her inside? She glanced at the carving knife that Mrs. Halloway, the family cook, had left on the dining room table.
Captain Mariner reached it first and took it in his grasp. “Winnie, I’m not going to harm you. I know what I’m doing seems odd, but those dogs today weren’t wild. They were trained. Twice they came at you. Not at me. At you.”
“No, it was just a coincidence. I…” Her voice trailed off as he turned the pointed blade safely away from her and handed her the knife.
“Carry it with you. You’ll need it for protection.” His expression remained grim. “Not from me, of course. I realize you don’t know me, but you’ll have to trust me.”
Without awaiting a response, presumably because he didn’t think any was required, he strode toward the kitchen. “I’ll check the rear doors and windows and then light the fire. What did you say we were having for supper?”
“I didn’t, but it’s lamb stew. Or would you care for something finer? A stuffed pheasant perhaps? Carried in on a large silver platter? Or a roast peacock with candied apricot trimming and decorated with its beautiful tail feathers?”
He cast her an appealingly boyish smile. “Lamb stew will do quite nicely. It’s my favorite. Do you need help to reach the plates?”
“No, they’re right here.” She walked back into the dining room and quickly set the table for two. She placed a decorative tureen in the center of the table into which she’d ladle the stew when it was ready.
Captain Mariner lit the fire in the kitchen hearth and, when their meal was finally heated, assisted her in pouring the bubbling concoction into the tureen. He then carefully doused the fire before carrying the tureen into the dining room. “Better that no one knows you’re home tonight,” he explained, placing it on the table as she directed.
They sat in silence on opposite sides of the dining table. Winnie concentrated her attention on the smoky tendrils wafting up from under the lid of the tureen, but she also dared to glance at her companion from time to time, wanting to trust him and not certain that she could. The stew smelled delicious, and those smoky tendrils teased her nostrils. “Mrs. Halloway is the family cook. She’s quite good.”
Captain Mariner inhaled the tempting aroma. “I have no doubt.”
“She ought to be back at any moment. She and her husband, that is. They’re quite devoted to me.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I have no doubt of that either. You’re the sort of girl who inspires devotion.”
She glanced up, her eyes rounding in surprise. Was he complimenting her? Or just teasing her before he… well, she wasn’t certain what he planned to do, nothing villainous, she hoped. She was heartened that he’d given her the carving knife as protection and had assured her that he did not intend to harm her. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
However, they were seated alone, doors latched and windows now shuttered, and only a lamp and a few candles to spare for light. She didn’t know what to make of his actions or of him. He seemed certain that something dire was about to happen. “Mrs. Halloway will be back soon,” she repeated, knowing it was a lie.
She knew the Kingsley cook was still at the fair. She’d heard her boisterous laughter coming from the makeshift tavern erected beside the maypole and saw her seated at one of the long benches enjoying her ale. The woman was obviously working on her third or fourth pint by the time Winnie had left the fair. An entire pint! No half portions as usually served to the ladies would do for her!
Captain Mariner leaned his elbows on the table. “I hope she will be, but the weather is pleasant and likely to remain that way into the evening. Most of the visitors to the fair did not seem eager to leave. More to the point, servants, when given the day off, will stretch it out as long as possible.”
“You speak from experience.” But was he speaking as a servant or the lord who presided over an estate? He did have a commanding presence. She might have been hasty in dismissing the possibility that he was of the Upper Crust. Yet, he had none of the foppishness or indolence often associated with such men of rank.
“I’m merely an observer of human nature,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders.
She shook her head and laughed lightly. “No, Captain. I am merely an observer, spending my days in this quiet village while life passes me by. You are a man of action who obviously enjoys life to the fullest. Nothing escapes your notice, and I have no doubt that you are finding my company dreadfully dull.”
He made to protest, but she stopped him with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Howe
ver, the possibility that I am in danger intrigues you and that’s what you find irresistible.”
He cast her a tender glance, one also mingled with amusement, but his affectionate regard simply melted her insides. “There is nothing dull about you, Winnie. I’m too much of a gentleman to tell you what I’m really thinking, but words such as simple or boring or dull have not crossed my mind.”
He paused another moment to study her. “You’re blushing.”
“Am I? It’s the lack of air in here.” She fanned herself with the table linen as she rose. “I’m sure it’s quite safe to open a window. A small one, just enough to allow in the breeze.”
He rose along with her and reached across the table to take her hand. His felt warm and protective as it swallowed hers. “No, it isn’t. The sun’s about to go down and all is not well outside this house. Have you not heard the scratching and shuffling sounds just beyond your walls?”
“It’s the wind,” she said, but startled when a sound remarkably like claws scratching against the dining room window reached her ears. “Or perhaps not.”
He gently squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Winnie. I had hoped I was wrong.”
Her heart was now pounding within her chest. “Is it more of those horrid dogs?”
He tightened his grip on her hand. “Yes, likely. But I’m interested in their master… or masters. There could be more than one person involved in this scheme to harm you. Now is the time to tell me if you suspect anyone in particular.”
Winnie felt as though this were a bad dream or a result of a lump on her head that had thrown her into delirium. “I’d tell you if I knew, but there isn’t anyone. This is all quite confusing and frightening to me, as you can tell by the way my hand is trembling.”
She glanced at the carving knife on the table beside her plate. “I can’t use that thing. Unlike you, I’m no warrior. I’ll probably slice my hand at the first swing. However…” Winnie slipped her hand out of his and grabbed the ash shovel from beside the hearth. “I can use this as a weapon. Striking someone over the head doesn’t seem quite as barbaric as plunging a knife into their gut.”
Romantic Legends Page 52
