by Meara Platt
“Wait for me!” Rafe ran out after her.
He let the lad go, knowing he would be safe with Taffy.
Rafe had not properly shut the door on his way out, so Gavin could hear the boy’s joyful yelps as he and Taffy now raced up and down the hall. Taffy was cheering him on, encouraging him to expend some of his youthful exuberance.
Gavin smiled as he listened to them, his heart warming to his son’s laughter.
The boy was enamored of Taffy.
So was he. It felt good to be around her. Her presence was a balm to them. “I’m going to marry ye, lass,” he muttered, wiping the last of the mud off his skin.
Of course, they still had to deal with Gordon first. He would be back unless the Bow Street men captured him.
He would worry about that later.
For now, he and Rafe had a few hours to relax and he meant to take full advantage.
After drying himself off, he strode to the wardrobe, found a pair of clean trousers, and hastily donned them and his boots. Since he had yet to shave this morning, he decided to take another moment to attend to the task before putting on his shirt.
Rafe was still racing up and down the hall, Taffy laughing and sounding quite breathless as she tried to keep up with him.
He chuckled, thinking of the two of them racing up and down the halls of Falkirk Manor once they returned to Inverness. Aye, Taffy would fill his drafty fortress with warmth and happiness.
“Papa! Papa!”
He had just finished shaving and was still standing shirtless when Rafe burst into the room. The door slammed against the thick, plaster wall. “The horse riders are back!”
So soon?
What had happened?
Was it possible they’d caught up with Gordon and captured him?
Taffy hurried in after the boy and came to an abrupt halt. “My lord, I–”
“Lass?”
“Sweet mercy,” she said in a whisper and hastily turned away. But not before he saw her mouth fall open and her eyes bulge. She’d taken all of him in and obviously liked what she saw.
To see him half dressed was nothing unusual for Rafe, for the boy was often with him when he readied himself in the mornings and was used to seeing him naked since this is how he slept. “Riders, ye say?”
Rafe was hopping up and down. “Tell him, Taffy. Why are you staring at the wall?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, my lord.”
He strode to her side, knowing he was being tauntingly wicked to stand so close to her in his current state of undress. But it amazed him that of all things, this is what discomposed her. “Would ye care to elaborate, lass?”
She cleared her throat again. “Would you care to put on a shirt, my lord?”
“No, I would not.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Will ye no’ look at me?”
She licked her lips. “I think not. Perhaps a better idea would be for me to greet Mr. Barrow and find out what happened. He’s back awfully quick, don’t you think?”
“Aye, lass. I do. It troubles me.” But he held her back gently when she tried to make her escape. “We’ll go down together. Give me a moment.” He crossed to his wardrobe and tossed on one of his more casual shirts that simply slipped over his head and required no fastenings or fuss. He tucked it into his trousers. “Come along, Rafe.”
He took the boy’s hand.
He circled his other hand around Taffy’s waist and felt her immediately respond, partly with indignity and partly with delight. She quickly tamped down her delight and cast him an uncertain look. “Perhaps I ought to remain here with Rafe.”
“No, lass. We’re safe for the moment. They may not have caught him yet, but they’ve chased him out for now. Come downstairs with me. Let’s enjoy the run of the house while we can. Refreshments will be brought to us in the library. Mr. Barrow can give us his report there. Rafe would you like to play with the spillikins?”
“Yes, Papa. Taffy, will you play with me?”
“Of course, Master Rafe. It will be my pleasure.”
Since she still appeared uncomfortable in his presence, Gavin maintained a casual conversation to distract her. He hadn’t planned for her to barge in before he was done dressing, but ought to have behaved more like a gentleman once she had. “I want ye to tell me about this Watkins fellow. Why do I get a bad feeling about him?”
He knew this would occupy her mind as they headed downstairs, although a lass as smart as Taffy could juggle a dozen thoughts at a time.
“Watkins, my lord? I wonder why that is. He is um…a good man.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Why do you say it with such reluctance?”
“I did not think I did.” She shrugged.
“Lass, what is it between ye and that man? I want to know.”
“It is nothing, my lord.”
“He does no’ like ye. He takes no pains to hide it. That is no way for a man to behave. I dinna like him. If he dares to insult ye, he’ll be dealing with me and I’ll no’ be delicate about conveying my displeasure.”
She glanced up startled. “You are one to talk, after your immodest behavior. You are not to hit him, is this understood?”
“Understood and ignored. Why does he no’ like ye?”
“Have you always been this irritating? Fine, I’ll tell you. But you do not have my permission to do anything about it. The matter is not personal. You see, Mr. Barrow has put me in charge of the Bow Street men he placed inside the house. Watkins is older and far more experienced. He felt he ought to have been the one given command.”
“He questioned Mr. Barrow’s judgment?”
“No, he was merely not pleased with it.”
“Same thing. The man is an idiot. Within an hour of knowing ye, I could see ye were the best one to take charge. Certainly no question about it after Gordon managed to get into our guest quarters and ye tricked him. I do not like that the man still resents ye.”
“It does not matter.” She cast him a pinched look. “We need to concentrate on finding this villain, not arguing among ourselves.”
“I am no’ arguing. I’m going to tell Watkins in no uncertain terms. If he disrespects ye, then it is the same as disrespecting me and I’ll have none of it.”
“My lord, I do not know what bee has suddenly stung your backside, but I would appreciate your keeping out of Bow Street business. I am well able to care for myself. I would appreciate your not meddling in my affairs. And need I point out you are the worst at taking orders? You ignore mine at your whim.”
He grinned at her. “That’s the privilege of my rank, lass. Watkins has no such privilege.”
They’d reached the library.
Taffy immediately sprang into her Bow Street runner role, entering first and giving the room an inspection before allowing them to enter. He indulged her because he did not think there was any danger now that Gordon was on the run. But tomorrow? He was going to protect her whether she liked it or not. “Ah, here come your colleagues.”
He stepped forward as three of the Bow Street men hurried into the library. Mr. Barrow, his colleague, Mick, and a glum looking Watkins. “Mr. Barrow, ye’re back so soon,” he said with a frown. “What went wrong?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TAFFY FROWNED AS she listened to Mr. Barrow relate what had happened during their chase. “He was right in front of us and in our sight until we rode through a patch of dense forest just outside of town. He was there one moment, and in the next, he was gone. We searched the area, of course.”
“How can a man disappear into thin air?” the marquis asked, his expression dark and angry. “And what of his horse? Are ye telling me that a beast as large as that simply disappeared, too?”
“No, my lord. The horse trotted back to us. We found blood on the saddle, so I think Lord Gordon has been injured. Perhaps caught by a protruding branch and knocked off his horse. The impact of that alone could kill him.”
“I doubt we’ll be that fortunate,” the marquis muttered.
Mr. Barrow’s jowls wobbled as he nodded. “Indeed. We tried to pick up his footprints. But the road, especially that close to town, is too well traveled.”
“And what of the forest path? Is that not where he likely fell off the horse?”
“Aye, m’lord. That’s where we intensified our search, hoping to find a clue. A scrap of wool. A drop of blood. A footprint. We found nothing. I’ve sent a man into town to report to the magistrate and ask him to conduct a search with his men and scent dogs. I took the liberty of taking small items off the…” He paused to glance at Rafe. “Off that other man, since he was wearing Lord Gordon’s clothes and the dogs might pick up on that scent.”
The marquis nodded his approval.
“My man will also notify the shopkeepers and innkeepers to send word if they see him.”
“Meanwhile,” Mick said, “Watkins and I have gone through the house and checked every door and window. No one is going to get in or out except through the kitchen entrance, and we’ll have two men posted there at all times to guard it.”
The marquis folded his arms across his chest. “Watkins, do ye have anything to add?”
Taffy did not bother to hide her annoyance at his impertinence. She had asked him not to confront Watkins. And yet, here he was, staring the poor man down.
She tossed him a scathing scowl that went unnoticed because he purposely refused to look her way, knowing she would be angry. The wretch! She was seated beside Rafe, who was absorbed in his game of spillikins, and did not wish to startle the boy by jumping up and railing at his father. Of course, she would never do such a thing in front of these men.
Watkins was obviously surprised to be addressed directly by the intimidating marquis. “No, my lord. It is as Mick says. We’ve secured all doors and windows. If this villain is still alive, he’ll have a difficult time gaining entry.”
The marquis nodded. “Keep alert, Mr. Watkins. This devil had little trouble breaking in through the music room doors. This house is sturdy, but it is not an impregnable fortress. He will find a way in, no matter how diligent we all are.”
“Understood, my lord.”
Taffy let out a huff. The marquis immediately turned to her, his eyebrow arched in question. There was a look in Watkins’s eyes that she found troubling, but could say nothing about it now. “I moved my spillikins. Rafe has won this round.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Gentlemen, I cannot say I am pleased by this turn of events. But thank ye all for yer continued efforts to protect me and my son. Please go on about yer duties.”
“My lord,” Watkins said, “will you be returning to your quarters now? Perhaps it would be helpful to know your plans for the rest of the day so we can more easily keep track of you.”
Taffy’s gaze shot to the runner.
What was he up to? It wasn’t so much the question, but the warning tingles that once again ran up her spine as he’d asked it. She did not like to admit it, but the marquis was not off the mark in disliking him. She sensed this man had an ulterior motive. But what could it be?
The marquis turned to Mr. Barrow. “What is the likelihood of Lord Gordon returning here before sundown?”
“Slim to none, I would say. I doubt he’ll dare make a move again before the staff retires for the evening. He’ll wait until after midnight before he attempts to slip in again.”
“Thank ye.” He turned to Watkins. “Then for now, I intend to enjoy a quiet afternoon in the library with my son. After that, an early supper in the dining room. And after that, we shall retire to our quarters.”
Rafe looked up from his game. “Don’t forget our cocoa and ginger cakes, Papa!”
“No, son. I won’t forget.” He addressed Mr. Barrow. “We will ask for a tray to be brought up to our bedchamber around eight o’clock. Do ye have any objections?”
“No, m’lord. None at all.”
Mick and Watkins were about to walk out the door, when the marquis called to them. “By the way, did ye each take a wing of the house when ye performed yer rounds to check the doors and windows?”
“Aye, m’lord,” Mick responded. “We did. I took the east wing and Mr. Watkins took the west.”
Taffy’s heart raced a little faster. This meant Watkins had charge of the music room. Not that she suspected he’d opened the doors for Lord Gordon the other night. But it was the easiest access point in the entire house and she did not like that Watkins was the one responsible for securing it.
“Thank ye, gentlemen.” He dismissed them with a nod of his head.
Mr. Barrow remained behind to continue his discussion with the marquis. “My lord, would you now care to tell me what that was about?”
“Och, perhaps I had better.” He glanced at Taffy and sighed. “I believe Miss Ralston and I are in disagreement on this matter. I know ye and yer men are already strained and spread thin, but I do not want Watkins anywhere near us. Nor do I want him to be the one checking on windows and door or standing guard duty by the kitchen entrance. Give him some insignificant role, if ye must.”
Mr. Barrow appeared shocked. “Has something happened to make you not trust him? He has been a good and loyal runner of mine for twenty years.”
“That is the problem. I believe he harbors a grudge against Miss Ralston. I do not want him anywhere near her.”
“Miss Ralston, has Mr. Watkins said anything to you? I shall reprimand him severely if that is so.”
“No, Mr. Barrow. He has said nothing and done nothing to me. As far as I know, he has followed all your instructions dutifully.” She nibbled her lip, wanting to make mention of her uneasiness at the questions he’d just posed to the marquis, but this would only escalate tensions. They needed to be working together, not fighting among themselves.
The marquis gave a grim chuckle. “As ye see, the lass and I disagree on the matter. But I must insist on having my way. We are dealing with a desperate and dangerous man in Lord Gordon. The slightest slip, and he will succeed in getting to me and my son. I want no weak link in the chain of protection.”
Mr. Barrow was nodding all the while. “My instincts tell me this will all come to a head within the next forty eight hours. My men and I will remain vigilant. I’ll set up hourly rounds to inspect all doors and windows and from now on, my runners will work in pairs.”
“Aye, Mr. Barrow. I like the idea. Even if injured, Lord Gordon can easily overpower one man alone. Everyone works in teams of two. If you must use him, then pair Watkins with a man of equal experience. I dinna want him in a position of command or placed at an important post.”
Mr. Barrow nodded. “Very well, m’lord. It shall be done.”
“Thank ye,” he said and dismissed him. As soon as the door shut, he turned to Taffy. “Lass, I’d like a word with ye.”
She was reluctant to leave Rafe’s side, not only because she liked being with the boy. But the marquis meant to give her a talking to and she was not in any obedient or respectful humor at the moment. “Yes, my lord. Of course. Would you care to join us? We can chat while we play.”
“No, I would like ye to come here. I want to speak to ye in private.”
She sighed, playfully ruffled Rafe’s hair, and then rose to come to his side as he asked. “If you insist.”
He chuckled. “I do. Och, ye’re a contrary lass.”
“And I wish you hadn’t made an issue of Mr. Watkins after I clearly asked you not to.”
“I was right about him and ye know it.” He said nothing more until he’d walked her over to a settee beside the rear wall of stacks and then settled beside her when she sat down. “Ye felt it as well, didn’t ye? Dinna bother to deny it, I saw it in the telltale nibble of yer lips. There was an undercurrent of insolence in his every remark. Even when he stood silently while Mr. Barrow spoke. Ye canno’ deny it, Taffy.”
She nodded. “I did sense it. But resentment is a far thing from betrayal.”
“Resentment can be just as dangerous.” He leaned back and stretched his
arm across the back of the settee. “He may have no intention of betraying us, but even the slightest hesitation on his part can have tragic consequences. Think on it, lass. This is no different than being in the heat of battle. If I’m the soldier whose duty it is to protect ye, I canno’ be sitting back smugly while others attack ye. I canno’ be waiting just that little bit extra before coming to yer defense.”
“He wouldn’t–”
“He would and ye know it, lass. He’s already convinced himself it would serve Miss High-and-Mighty Taffy Ralson right to be getting out of a scrape on her own. I meant to let him know that if ye got hurt, he’s the one I’ll be coming after.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to convey her disapproval. However, she could not help but feel giddy and warmed by his arrogant protectiveness. She had not been offended when he’d approached her without his shirt on, either. She’d been too busy absorbing the delicious heat of his body and scent of lather from his shave.
She’d wanted to touch him, stroke his skin and run her hands over his beautiful muscles. She’d even wanted to put her lips to his neck and nibble on it to taste him. Would his skin taste salty? Or like Scottish shortbread or oatmeal? “I think our attentions are better left apprehending Lord Gordon and not scaring the wits out those who are on our side.”
“Och, ye’re giving me that pinch-lipped look again. Lass, ye do realize that I find ye beautiful even when yer face resembles a prune. But I’ve said what I needed to say on the matter of Watkins. I know Mr. Barrow will keep an eye on him.”
He leaned closer and his manner softened. “There’s more I need to say to ye. I owe ye an apology for earlier. Ye’re a lady, and I dinna have the right to make ye uncomfortable.”
She grinned. “Do you mean your shirtless prancing earlier?”
“Och, I was no’ prancing. And I dinna expect ye and Rafe to burst in with a holler and a slam of the door. Had ye done it a minute earlier, I would have startled and probably slit my throat shaving.”
“Oh, then it is I who–”
“No, lass. Dinna apologize to me for showing my son so much love, he is happier than I’ve ever seen him in his life. The point I am trying to make is that I was in the wrong. I ought to have made myself decent before I approached ye. I’m sorry for that, lass.”
