“Ah!” Although Sebastian nodded slowly, in reality, he hadn’t a clue what Dominic was talking about, but had seen enough of Isobel to understand that if she was being careful, she was indeed most probably up to something. He didn’t envy Dominic in the very least, but could appreciate why they made such an excellent couple. “Do you have any idea what it might be?”
Dominic shook his head in frustration. “No, damn it, and I can’t keep my eye on her all the time. She won’t allow it. She keeps shooing me off like some pestering child. I get the distinct impression that she is waiting until I leave, to do whatever it is she is up to.” Knowing he was talking in riddles Dominic stopped, huffing a sigh of frustration.
Sebastian shook his head in confusion. “Peter is going to delay his return to Willowbrook.” He confided, glad to be able to change the subject. He took a seat beside the fire, propping his booted feet upon the hearth and settling back to watch Dominic sit opposite. “Edward and I are at your disposal for as long as you need us. Between us, we can keep a careful eye on her and make sure she doesn’t get into mischief.” He watched as some of the tension left the man opposite. “You seriously love her don’t you?” It wasn’t a question. Sebastian had never seen Dominic behave so possessively towards anyone, or anything, before.
“There was a time when we believed she was dead. When we searched for her, we were led to her grave. Peter even got so far as to make arrangements for her body to be moved to the family crypt while I grieved for her,” Dominic’s voice was harsh in the quiet of the room. “All because of that scheming bastard who calls himself her uncle.”
Sebastian knew just how devastated Dominic must have been, and could understand what was behind his possessive attitude towards his wife. He could only sympathise with his brother’s current concerns, and hope that whatever Isobel was planning, it wouldn’t cause Dominic any more heartache.
The men had already met and discussed the latest information from the Magistrate. In the time since Isobel had visited Hubert and asked for his help, and Dominic appeared asking questions, Hubert had discovered enough about Rupert’s debts, lies and duplicity to convict Rupert of several charges which would send him to the gallows, but first they needed evidence that Rupert had indeed known about Isobel’s wealth.
“The evidence is mounting; it won’t be long,” Sebastian said into the silence. “Is there any news on the bodies of the men who attacked you?”
Dominic was aware that the two thugs he had slain had been removed to the makeshift mortuary in the tavern’s cellars, and had been thoroughly searched for identification. “They were from London we know that much. I can only assume they are in DeLisle’s employ given Rupert doesn’t have the funds to pay anyone.”
“That means DeLisle is just as duplicitous in all of this, as Rupert. Is he in debt too?” Sebastian raised the question Dominic had also considered as he had considered all of the possibilities.
“Yes. Not as deeply as Rupert, but deep enough to worry him as all of his sources have run dry. Relatives’ doors are closed to him. Entry to gaming houses has been denied. Which explains why they are so desperate to get to Isobel,” Dominic added.
“Do you think they want her for ransom?” Sebastian leaned forwards to rest his elbows upon his knees. Dominic had already informed them of Isobel’s financial situation, and had been shocked by the numbers Peter had confirmed were involved.
“Most definitely. Whether it is my money or hers, they won’t care,” Dominic’s voice dropped to dangerous levels. “They have to get to her first though.”
“They won’t,” Sebastian replied confidently, one again settling back in his chair. “We outnumber them at least ten to one. They can’t get anywhere near.”
It was becoming a habit, Isobel thought to herself later that night, as she accepted glass of brandy from her husband and watched as the assembled men took seats around the room.
Once again, they had finished their meal and retired to the drawing room to discuss what to do next. Isobel was aware of Dominic’s dark frown as he glanced at her, and wondered what she had done this time. She waited patiently until a brief moment of silence settled over the room.
“Does anyone want to hear my news?” Isobel asked, aware of the studying look that passed between Sebastian and Dominic before they turned cautiously to her.
“What news do you have for us, my dear?” Peter asked, sensing the wariness in the other men. She had a look of mischief about her that made him feel deuced uncomfortable. He was unsurprised to see Dominic scowling darkly at his wife.
“I know how we can get the evidence to prove Rupert knows about my fortune.”
She felt decidedly smug as stunned silence settled over the room before Dominic’s voice lashed across the room.
“What evidence is it?” He wondered just what she had been up to while he had been away.
Isobel took a sip of her drink and sat back in her chair. “You asked me to write an account of events that drove me onto the streets. Well, writing everything down in sequence helped me remember something I had previously forgotten.” The tension within the room rose several notches. Isobel turned toward her husband. “The betrothal document.”
Dominic looked blank. “Pardon?”
Isobel fought the urge to roll her eyes. “They, or rather Rupert, tried to force me to sign a betrothal document naming DeLisle as my intended. I refused.” She didn’t add that she had been beaten as a result, but didn’t need to. The knowing glances the men exchanged confirmed they all understood the consequences Isobel had suffered for her defiance.
“Do you think they still have it?”
“Probably,” Isobel said, blocking out the memories of those dark evenings. “He put it before me several times. I did note it had been signed by DeLisle already, and Rupert. They needed my signature on it too apparently, to make it a legal document, but I refused to sign it.” She frowned at the thoughtful silence that descended around them.
“Don’t you see? Rupert knew he had told people that Peter was dead. If he could produce a document clearly stating that I was betrothed to DeLisle, it would indicate they had plans for my wealth. The sums indicated on the dowry section couldn’t possibly be found by Rupert because he didn’t have the funds.”
“They needed your money, or more importantly for you to sign the betrothal document to get access to your wealth,” Peter added.
“But that wouldn’t release the funds to them until you were married,” Sebastian added with a frown.
“But the betrothal document would be enough to secure a special license and force me into marriage. Without my signature, they couldn’t force me to do anything. Rupert drew up this document knowing he wasn’t my guardian and therefore, if we can get hold of the document, it confirms that Rupert was trying to fraudulently obtain my funds.” Isobel felt a surge of excitement at the new information and the importance it had on Rupert’s downfall.
“Rupert isn’t stupid enough to leave something like that lying around; he would almost certainly keep it with him.” Isobel fought the urge to jump up and down.
She tried hard not to sigh in frustration at the strange silence that had settled over the men. Why weren’t they leaping up and making plans?
“But he could have easily thrown it into the fire, especially knowing that you are now married to Dominic,” Peter reasoned, hating to be the one to dampen her joy with logic.
Isobel huffed a put-upon sigh at their hesitancy. “Rupert would no doubt want to use it to argue that I was already betrothed to DeLisle when I married Dominic. The signed document could give them sufficient grounds for argument in the hope of receiving payment in lieu of a failed contract.”
Dominic swore roundly. “The document must be at Rupert’s house across town.”
Isobel beamed proudly at him, delighted that he had followed her train of thought and understood.
“I’ll go,” Peter said softly, relishing the challenge of getting Rupert to confess all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The huge grandfather clock chimed midnight when Isobel glided silently down the stairs. She paused briefly to allow her eyes to adjust to the gloom of the cavernous hallway and moved slowly toward the faint flicker of light visible under the library door.
From the doorway, she watched the imposing figure of her husband who was dressed entirely in black, strapping his sword around his waist. She slowly entered the room and studied his the change in his face. All trace of softness had been replaced with a battle-hard determination that made his eyes hard, and dangerous. The flickering of the candle giving his face a shadowed glow that turned him into a menacing stranger who was so unfamiliar to her that she shivered.
She knew that conflict loomed, and felt a flicker of concern in her belly as she studied the battle-ready warrior before her. She had to sternly remind herself that he was still her husband and as such, could never be a stranger to her.
Slowly gliding across the room, Isobel paused a few feet from him and watched as he became aware of her. He gaze was hard and unrelenting as he turned toward her.
“You are not coming,” he growled. The fierce scowl on his face deepened as he studied her appearance. Usually the sight of his wife’s long and very shapely legs encased in a pair of loving breeches would turn him on, but not tonight, not when so much was at stake.
“Stop me” Isobel challenged, tossing her head back defiantly. On this she would not be swayed. Her eyes met and held his in defiance as she waited.
Dominic cursed fluidly, and wondered if he should just strap her to a chair and be done with it.
“I am coming with you,” Isobel’s voice was firm, daring him to argue. Dressed as she was, in men’s clothing, it was easy to appreciate how she had managed to stay out of Rupert’s clutches for so long. Still, Dominic knew that this was Isobel, his wife, and there was no way she was leaving the house tonight.
“You are staying. Tonight is going to be risky enough without me having to waste precious time looking after you.”
Isobel’s temper rose. “You don’t have to look after me! I am perfectly capable of looking after myself,” she argued, her tone waspish. She didn’t have the time to utter a squeak before the looming presence of her husband towered over her.
His nose practically pushed against hers as he growled. “You are staying here. Try and leave, and I will tie you down.”
Isobel refused to back down and defiantly tossing back her shoulders, stared him straight in the eye. “Try it, and you will never sleep in my bed again.”
Dominic scowled, and his temper rose.
“I mean it” Isobel bit out. “I know what that document looks like, and will be able to help you search. We will be out of there in half the time.”
“Can I remind you what happened the last time I encountered Rupert’s associates?” Dominic turned away to don his black jacket, effectively ending the conversation. He pocketed his blade, leaving Isobel very aware that as far as he was concerned, she was staying.
Isobel stood her ground, determined not to be dismissed so easily. She fought the urge to smack him on the back of his head, if only to snap him out of his supreme arrogance. Warrior or not, she would not remain at home like a useless female, not when so much was at stake. She had to be with him. Whatever her own personal fears, she could not remain behind. With Sebastian in London, and Peter in Derby trying to find Jemima, it left Isobel to remain at Havistock Hall with Edward. Despite the midnight hour, she couldn’t sit at home and simply wait, not after the last time she had waited for him.
“You have a choice,” Isobel stated, moving towards the door and carefully ignoring the dark glare he shot at her.
“Just one?” Dominic growled sarcastically, wondering if there was any rope in the house he could use.
“You could either come with me, or I can go alone, but either way, if you want our marriage to succeed and be a happy one, you need to let me go to Rupert’s. Tie me to a chair or block me from going, and we will never sleep together again. Setting up your nursery will be a distant memory.” Her voice was conversational, but her eyes held a coldness that chilled Dominic to the bone. There was a fierce determination in her that he had never seen before; a warrior-like stare that he had only ever seen in men about to go into battle. Suddenly he understood just how strong and determined Isobel was, and how she had come to survive life on the streets. The soldier within him identified his mate and answered her call.
Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Dominic sighed deeply and cursed his folly as he strode across the room.
The sharp point of a dagger appeared inches from her nose. Isobel arched her brows, refusing to allow him to unnerve her. “If anything untoward happens, you use this and head for home. Don’t stop and ask questions; don’t pause to check I am behind you; just get back here as fast as your legs can carry you. Understand?”
Isobel nodded, taking the cool metal and wood of the handle in her fingers before pocketing it carefully. Although she balked at the thought of using it; the mental image of Dominic’s battered body lying on the cool marble floor of the hallway sprang forth in her mind and gave her the cool determination to carry out the search tonight with Dominic, regardless of the risks involved. If it came right down to it, Isobel had no doubt she could use it, if it meant that not doing so put not only herself, but Dominic in danger.
Although Edward had earlier told Dominic that Rupert and DeLisle had departed that morning for DeLisle’s house, Dominic didn’t pass that snippet of information on to Isobel. There were watchmen still at the house who could pose a risk. He needed her to be wary and alert. “Come on,” he growled with a nod toward the door.
Every masculine instinct within him screamed at him to leave her behind. To take her back to bed, and make sure she was too tired to follow him. But he had never seen the cold determination on her face before and wasn’t certain she wouldn’t carry through with her promise not to allow him into her bed again. Being kept out of his wife’s loving arms was a risk he couldn’t afford to take.
Disgruntled he moved toward the door, leaving her to follow. If she wanted to come with him, then she could bloody well forget about being treated like a lady, Dominic grumbled, easing the door open and disappearing outside. He didn’t stand back and allow her to precede him, just left the door swinging, not caring if she was offended. What she was doing was downright stupid, and the churlish side of him refused to let her off so easily.
“Wait!” Isobel gasped, as she watched Dominic start to move towards the lawn.
Dominic fought the urge to roll his eyes. “What?” His voice bristled with impatience.
Isobel scowled at him. “Which way are we going?”
Dominic silently pointed toward the dark shadow of the tree line across the far side of the garden.
“Come on then.”
Dominic watched as his wife quietly merged with the low slung hedges and simply vanished into thin air. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would never have considered it possible. Shaking his head in stunned admiration, Dominic took to his heels after his wife.
Isobel was frozen. It hadn’t taken long for the cold to penetrate the heavy boots she was wearing, or the expensive woollen cloak. Her fingers had already gone stiff with cold and her toes numb. She sniffed softly, wishing she had remembered to bring a handkerchief.
A few months ago she had been oblivious to the cool night air, having become accustomed to spending most of the daytime outside. The relatively short time she had been living at Havistock Hall had undoubtedly softened her, and she had quickly become used to the sheer luxury of roaring fires, and warm clothing.
How easily she had forgotten, she mused, as she tried to wriggle some feeling back into her numb toes.
Carefully pulling the cloak as high as it would go, she tugged her
cap down low until it covered the tips of her pink ears. Covering herself as much as possible, she eyed the sprawling house before her with trepidation.
Although still large, Rupert’s house wasn’t as grandiose as Havistock Hall, by any stretch of the imagination. Nor were the gardens as beautifully landscaped, Isobel thought as she carefully surveyed the outlines of the sparse vegetation through the darkness.
Thankfully the moon was only partially showing through the thick clouds, and afforded them some visibility of the surrounding area, but not enough to penetrate the umbrella of trees currently giving them protection from prying eyes.
Keeping her back to the solid bulk of the largest tree trunk she could find, Isobel stood silently in the shadows and carefully scanned the house, with its many windows lining the ground floor. It appeared there were only three main doors; the front door, the rear kitchen door and one set of larger doors to the side facing her.
She stood in the shadow of the trees beside Dominic and had studied the building long enough to learn that somebody inside was keeping watch. At regular intervals the soft glow of a candle would move past windows, slowly moving from the rear of the house, toward the front before presumably climbing the inner stairs. After several minutes the light would appear at the front of the house upstairs, before slowly moving towards the back. Isobel counted to six hundred slowly before the guard returned to the original place where she considered the kitchens were located.
She wished Dominic would say something, or even smile at her; anything to help banish the nerves fluttering in her belly. But apart from the brief flick of his hand movements giving her instructions, he did little to acknowledge her presence.
Shivering as a cool draft of night air teased the ends of her cloak, Isobel eased through the first row of trees marking the edge of the gardens, closest to the kitchen door. Peering through the gloom, she was busy looking for a large tree to stand against when a solid length of well muscled arm slid around her waist. Her scream of fright was immediately cut off by a gloved hand clamped harshly over her lips.
If You Were Mine Page 18