A Little Mischief

by Amelia Grey

  “All right. Let’s continue.”

  They headed down the right side of the path and walked among the laurel hedges. Occasionally a wet limb would brush across Isabella’s face. The dampness had penetrated the layers of the thin clothing she wore and she was cold and wet.

  After several minutes of searching she was ready to call a halt to their pursuit when she noticed a vine-covered arbor near the back gate. She approached it and peeked inside. At first she didn’t see anything. Mist wafted across the small area of garden but when she started to turn away the fog shifted and she saw the form of a woman standing alone.

  “Lord Colebrooke, over here. I think I’ve found Gretchen.”

  He came up behind Isabella, and she felt his warm breath on her neck and it comforted her.

  “It is Gretchen,” he said, looking through the drifting mist. “What the devil is she doing out here alone?”

  “I have no idea, but I’d say it a good thing that she isn’t with anyone.”

  “I agree.”

  Their feet crushed on the loose stone as they left the pathway and ducked underneath the vine-tangled arbor. When they drew nearer, Isabella saw it was indeed Gretchen. At first Gretchen didn’t acknowledge them but continued to look at the ground.

  A chill that had nothing to do with the cold shook Isabella.

  “Gretchen, what are you doing out here?” Lord Colebrooke asked as they approached.

  Isabella stopped just short of Gretchen and turned to the earl and said, “Sweet, heavenly mercies. Look at her feet.”

  Daniel then saw what Isabella and Gretchen were looking at: the body of a man prone before them.

  For a moment the silence lay as heavy as the mist.

  “Damnation,” Daniel cursed and quickly bent down to examine the man.

  Even before Daniel rolled the man over to look at his face, Isabella knew it was Mr. Throckmorten. The gray fog made it difficult to see, but there was no mistaking the presence of a gold-handled paper knife protruding from his chest.

  Daniel swore under his breath again and pressed his ear to the area of the man’s heart and listened. He then felt Mr. Throckmorten’s pale, still face before looking at his wound again.

  Finally Daniel rose and looked at Gretchen with a grimace. “What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? How did you find him? Were you walking alone and stumbled upon him?”

  Isabella could feel the tension in Lord Colebrooke, and she wanted to help. She knew exactly how he was feeling, having just gone through the same thing in her aunt’s garden.

  “Yes, Danny. He was just lying there when I got here. Is he dead?”

  “Of course not,” Isabella said, stepping up to join in, even though she’d promised the earl she would stay quiet. “He’s just had too much to drink again and he’s passed out cold.”

  “Damnation.” Daniel paused only a second. “Miss Winslowe, the man has a knife buried deep in his chest and he’s not breathing.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s dead,” she persisted stubbornly, wanting to keep Gretchen calm. It wouldn’t do for her to go back to the house hysterical.

  “I know a dead man when I see one, and this man is dead,” Daniel insisted tightly.

  “How many dead men have you seen?” she asked, remembering the exact questions he had thrown at her earlier.

  “You try my patience,” he said in an exasperated voice.

  “Well, my lord, it was perfectly fine for him not to be dead when I saw him in my garden, but now that you’ve found him he must be dead.”

  “He wasn’t bleeding when you found him,” Daniel reminded her. “If you will look closely, you’ll see his white shirt is now stained red with blood.”

  “Yes. I do see it,” she answered, wishing she could make him understand that she was trying to be positive for Gretchen’s sake. “But if he came back to life once before, he can do so again.”

  Daniel stepped closer to Isabella and said, “You are impossible to talk to.”

  “How convenient that I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  “Will you two stop arguing and tell me what we are going to do?” Gretchen said in a trembly voice that sounded very much like a frightened child.

  “We’re not arguing,” Lord Colebrooke said.

  Even though Isabella could not see his face clearly, she knew Daniel wanted her to be quiet.

  “The first thing we have to do is get you out of this garden. I can’t have your name connected to a scandal like this. Miss Winslowe, take Gretchen back inside. I’ll return in a few minutes and say I found him.”

  “That won’t work,” Isabella said. “Several people saw you and me walking together, and no doubt someone saw Gretchen leave alone. If I’m seen coming back with Gretchen, they’ll assume you saw her with Mr. Throckmorten and that you became enraged and stabbed him. I must be with you when you report this to back up your claim of innocence.”

  “What anyone thinks of me doesn’t matter right now. I won’t have Gretchen’s name involved in this.”

  “And we’ll see that she isn’t. She must return the way she came, alone. You and I will arrive back at the house shortly after her and say we stumbled—” Isabella stopped abruptly as Lord Colebrooke’s hand landed softly, swiftly against her lips. His warm touch startled her so, she dropped her reticule.

  “I hear laughter. Someone is heading this way,” he whispered.

  Isabella barely heard what he said for she was concentrating on the feel of his hand that spread delicious warmth through her all the way down to her wet toes. The heat of his body pressed close into hers was like a hot fire. His skin smelled of soap and—

  “Come on, let’s move away from here and get back on the path,” he whispered. “Follow my lead.” He grabbed Isabella and Gretchen by the hand and they headed back to the path.

  There was no more time to dwell on his touch as she’d wanted to. The three of them quickly rushed back under the arbor and to the crushed stone path. Lord Colebrooke quickly stood between the two of them and held out his arms for them to slip their hands through just as they saw Viscount Stonehurst and his new bride coming down the trail.

  They were all quite friendly except for Gretchen, who barely managed to say more than a greeting. They stood talking for what seemed like hours to Isabella, but she was certain it was no more than five or six minutes before the viscount and his lady wife continued on their misty tour of the grounds.

  Lord Colebrooke was the first to speak. In a husky voice he said, “Gretchen, I want you to go back to the house immediately, and I don’t want you to speak about this incident to anyone. Do you understand?”

  “I’m frightened, Danny. What if he’s really dead this time?”

  “Nonsense, Gretchen,” Isabella said, butting in again. “Do as your brother said and go back inside the house and get a glass of punch. I assure you everything will be fine, just as it was earlier today.”

  “All right, if you’re sure.”

  “I am. We’ll find you shortly and you can go home. I’ll see that your brother returns safely,” Isabella said. “Now go.”

  Gretchen hurried away, and Isabella turned back to Daniel.

  “You’ll see that I’m safe?” he asked her in an annoyed tone.

  She had a feeling he wouldn’t like that. But he couldn’t see that Gretchen was at the breaking point.

  She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

  “You’re incredible.”

  “I didn’t mean to step on your masculine pride, Lord Colebrooke.”

  “I can assure you my pride didn’t feel a thing,” he answered a bit too quickly.

  “Good. I only told Gretchen what she wanted to hear. She was worried about leaving you out here, and she needed reassurance that you would be safe.”

  “I find that I never know what you will say, Miss Winslowe.”

  “Well, a lady should know how to keep a man int
rigued,” she answered.

  “You have done better than most so far, Miss Winslowe.”

  “Thank you for the compliment.”

  “Are you sure it was one?”

  “No, but I’ll take it that way.”

  “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

  She gasped. “Certainly not.”

  He stepped closer to her and lowered his voice. “It feels as if you are.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m merely explaining my indelicate reference to your capabilities of protecting yourself and my ability to help you. Now, do you want to stand here and banter or should we go back and pick up my reticule, which I dropped when you grabbed me?”

  “I’m sorry about that, but we had to hurry. You’re right, let’s get your reticule and be on our way. I don’t want Gretchen to arrive much before we do.”

  Isabella and Lord Colebrooke walked back underneath the arbor to where they had left Mr. Throckmorten. They looked around but didn’t see him straightaway.

  An eerie feeling stole over Isabella and she shivered. “Here is my reticule,” she said, picking it up and fastening the drawstrings to her wrist so it wouldn’t fall off again. She looked over to the earl. “But where is Mr. Throckmorten?”

  “You must have dropped your purse when we were on our way back to the pathway. He must be over in this direction.”

  Lord Colebrooke walked farther away, closer to the garden wall. Isabella was not wrong. She knew exactly where she was when she dropped her purse and that was when she was standing very close to Mr. Throckmorten.

  Another shiver crawled up her back. Surely he didn’t get up and walk away again.

  Something strange was going on, and Isabella had no idea how she’d gotten caught up in it.

  Isabella searched the ground again and saw something white. She reached down and picked it up. It was a lady’s handkerchief. There was embroidery on it, but it was too dark for her to see the stitching. No doubt Gretchen had dropped it when they had to flee to the pathway.

  Thankfully Isabella had found it. She slipped it into her reticule for safekeeping.

  Lord Colebrooke walked back over to where Isabella stood. He was eerily quiet for a moment, and the only things she heard were night sounds and Lord Colebrooke’s erratic breathing.

  There were many things she wanted to say, but she had to let him speak first.

  “He’s gone,” Lord Colebrooke said flatly. “Throckmorten’s body is not here.”

  Seven

  “Gone?” Miss Winslowe said to Daniel. “How about he was never here?”

  “What are you saying?” he asked, but didn’t give her time to answer before he continued. “That’s insane. You were here. You saw him.”

  “Yes,” she said calmly. “But remember that’s what you said to me when he disappeared out of my garden earlier this afternoon.”

  “Will you forget about that?” Daniel said, exasperated, perplexed by this entire day. “Throckmorten wasn’t dead when he was in your garden.”

  Daniel searched the darkened ground all around him. Throckmorten was here. What the bloody hell could have happened to him?

  This was preposterous. Throckmorten had to be here somewhere. Daniel paced back and forth across the short space of grass. He looked near the hedge and around the bushes. It was just too damn difficult to see anything in the gloomy mist.

  “Where the hell is he?” Daniel muttered aloud as he made his way back to where Miss Winslowe stood waiting.

  “Dead men don’t get up and walk away, Lord Colebrooke,” she said with all the calm of a windless afternoon.

  “I know that. Someone must have stolen the body while we were talking to Stonehurst.”

  Miss Winslowe laughed. A soft, seductive, playful sound that touched Daniel deep in his soul, and his lower body came to life. How could she excite him at a time like this? What kind of hold did she have on him? A dead man was missing, and he had thoughts of seducing this woman on his mind.

  It was too misty to see her as clearly as he would have liked, but he saw enough to be enraptured by her loveliness. He was sane enough to know he had to fight the pull she had on him. His life had been nothing but trouble since she came into it. He moved closer so he could see more of her face in laughter.

  He stopped just inches from her and lowered his voice as he said, “I fail to see the humor in the situation we are in, Miss Winslowe.”

  “Oh, really?”

  Must she always challenge him? She was intoxicating. “Yes,” he answered.

  “Think back to this afternoon, my lord. You are saying the exact things that I said to you when I tried to make you believe that Mr. Throckmorten was in my garden. Dead.”

  There was a sudden break in the clouds, and faint moonlight brightened her face. Daniel saw her sparkling eyes filled with satisfaction and her beautifully soft skin that glistened in the pale glow from the moon. Her lips were moist, pink, and tempting. She looked so kissable he suddenly found it difficult to keep his mind on the problem at hand.

  He swallowed the desire that rose up in him and threatened to overpower him. “That was different,” he said, forcing his voice to remain firm but low.

  “Oh, really, sir? In what way is it different? I fail to see any.”

  She smiled at him and his lower body tightened again. She was beautiful. How could he be so physically attracted to her when she challenged everything he said and played mischievous games that caused harm to others? She was not the kind of young lady he expected to desire so hotly that he ached to touch her.

  “You said he had received a bump on the head. I saw a knife embedded in his chest.”

  “That’s not proof he was dead.”

  “I know a dead man when I see one, Miss Winslowe, and Boswell Throckmorten was dead.”

  “How many dead men have you seen, Lord Colebrooke?”

  Daniel opened his mouth to speak but stopped. He felt an unwelcome smile spreading across his face. Damnation, she was right. They were saying the exact things to each other that were said this afternoon, only their roles had been reversed.

  He’d ridiculed her much the same way several hours ago. It rankled that she was right, but it didn’t keep his admiration for her from growing. Or his attraction.

  “Very well, Miss Winslowe. I admit you deserve an apology. I’m sorry for the way I treated you this afternoon. I should have been more understanding of your plight.”

  She looked directly into his eyes. “Does that mean I’m vindicated?”

  Daniel felt his frustration easing away and his knotted muscles relax. Her games be damned. She was too engaging to ignore, and he didn’t want to anymore.

  He gave her a genuine smile. “Yes.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “Good. Now can we get to the problem at hand?” Daniel asked.

  “I suppose we must. Mr. Throckmorten has done it to us again.”

  “Gretchen was standing over a dead man when we found her. Now that man has disappeared.”

  “That he has, but I don’t see it as a problem for us, my lord.”

  “You amaze me, Miss Winslowe.”

  “Thank you.”

  She never failed to say the unexpected. “Again, I’m not sure what I said was a compliment.”

  “It sounded like one to me.”

  “Take it however you wish, but I still have a problem.”

  “Lord Colebrooke, perhaps you should just have faith that Mr. Throckmorten will show up looking as healthy as he did when he arrived at the party tonight.”

  “That will not happen this time, Miss Winslowe.”

  “If that is indeed the case, then what will we do if his body shows up again?”

  “I don’t know because I don’t know what is going on here, but I will get to the bottom of it.” He paused. “I’m going to need your help, Miss Winslowe.”

  “Then call me Isabella.”

  He cleared his throat. He did not need to get any more intimate with her. “I
don’t think that’s necessary or appropriate.”

  “Nonsense. If you want my help, Daniel, it is. I refuse to continue calling you by the formal Lord Colebrooke when Daniel is much faster and, shall I say, will put us on friendlier terms.”

  She was in control. She was seducing him with her attractiveness, with her forthright manner. And he was letting her!

  “Very well, Isabella.” He paused. He liked the way her name tripped of his tongue so easily, so seductively. “I want to get Gretchen away from here as quickly as possible. Would you and your chaperone see to it that she gets home safely?”

  “Of course we will. But what are you going to do? You cannot tell anyone you think Mr. Throckmorten is dead if you have no body. Everyone will treat you the way you treated me this afternoon.”

  “And the way you treated me just now. I realize that, Isabella.”

  “Then all we need to do is return to the party and say nothing.”

  “Yes, but after I see you back inside, I plan to go talk to the footmen and the coach drivers. There’s only one way Throckmorten was able to get out of this garden tonight, and that was under someone else’s strength.”

  “You think someone picked him up and carried him out to his carriage?”

  “To someone’s carriage, yes. Obviously Gretchen stumbled upon the body before whoever killed him could remove him. They must have been hiding in one of the tall shrubs. Then we came along.”

  “Whoever it was must have heard every word we said about the man.”

  “No doubt. The killer must have come out of hiding and taken the body away while we were talking to Stonehurst. He probably passed Throckmorten off as a man too deep in his cups to walk. He would have had to put him in a carriage. I want to see if anyone was seen carrying a drunken man to a coach.”

  “That seems the sensible thing to do tonight. Then I think we should go to Mr. Throckmorten’s house tomorrow afternoon to see if he might have returned from the dead again.”

  Daniel smiled. Because she was so engaging, he remained tolerant.

  “First, trust me, Miss Winslowe, the man is not alive. Second, there is no we. It’s me. I will do these things alone. There is no reason for you to be further involved in this unsavory matter.”