Fixing a glare on his friends, Dare considered how to resolve the situation. By admitting he was with Nivea, he would have to divulge her secret. But if he said it was another woman, they would end their search. Dare definitely wanted to learn who shot him, he decided it best to come clean. He hoped she would understand. “I was riding with Nivea yesterday.”
William shot him an angry look, while Joseph fought back a grin. “I told you he had been up to no good.”
William turned his glare on Joseph before growling, “What in God’s name were you doing out here with my sister, Landis?”
Dare knew he had to give a careful answer. Affecting a dispassionate air, he answered, “I was doing her a favor.”
“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” William sneered, edging his horse closer to Dare’s.
“That’s enough, William,” the earl cut in. “Lord Landis, give us the details, if you please.”
With his mouth set in a grim line, Dare turned his attention to the earl. “Well, sir, following our mishap on our trip from London, Nivea decided to increase her proficiency on a horse. I offered to assist.”
The earl’s brow furrowed as he considered this surprising response. “But why would she come to you for help? Why didn’t she ask one of us?”
“She had hoped to keep it a secret, in order to surprise you, once she mastered her riding skills.”
“And why did you agree?” asked William, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Ah, he would have to dance around the truth on that one. Sliding into a haughty drawl, he answered, “Perhaps, I felt I owed her after making her arrival here so uncomfortable. Or perhaps because she was so determined to make you proud, I thought it noble to help. But most likely, I was bored and she caught me in a rare moment of weakness.”
Then, while fighting back the images of Nivea, lying under him, soft and flushed with passion, he fixed an arrogant stare on his oldest friend and boldly stated, “Regardless of my motivation, I can assure you, I did not molest your sister during our ride.”
The truth had never been so thoroughly strained. But it worked.
He was a bit unnerved by the earl’s intent stare, but then the man proclaimed, “Well, as Nivvy has not expressed any concerns over your behavior, I think we can assume you have behaved as a gentleman.”
The others appeared satisfied for they dismounted to survey the surrounding ground. Dare let the matter drop, but their attitude irked him. Dammit, why did he have to explain himself? He was the one who’d been shot. Sore from the injury and angry with himself for betraying Nivea’s secret, Dare watched them in silence as they scoured the area.
“I don’t see anything here. Let’s proceed toward the ruins and look for anything unusual.” The earl remounted and urged his horse forward.
As soon as they arrived at the ruins, it was obvious the area had been in use. Footsteps crisscrossed the dirt trails and the brush surrounding the abbey’s structure was flattened.
They spread out, and it wasn’t long before Joseph called out. “Ho, look here. I found a hideaway tucked into the wall. It appears a small group of mischief makers have been making themselves comfortable.”
“Mischief makers?” Dare snapped. “I hardly think being shot off my horse can be qualified as mischief.”
The others tramped over to the area and found the remains of a fire, a blanket stuffed behind a rock, and a satchel covered by twigs and leaves.
Dare strode over and dumped the satchel on the ground.
Out fell a hardened lump of bread, a small bag of gunpowder, a handful of misshapen round metal balls, flint, and a penknife. Picking up the penknife, Dare examined the handle. “It has initials carved in it. K.D. Does that mean anything to you, gentlemen?”
William turned around from the edge of the woods and called back, “Could be Kirby Dugan, the blacksmith in town. While I doubt it’s him, he has a passel of boys at home.” He walked closer, holding an object in his hand. It was a piece of white bark with holes in it. “I found this too. Looks like boys were up here taking target practice. There’s a bunch of metal pieces along the ground—not well-made bullets, but maybe bits left over from the smithy.”
The earl shook his head. “Damn fools must have been out here practicing. Chances are a shot went wide and managed to clip you, Landis.”
“Who allows their children to run wild like that?” Dare growled. It was intolerable to think he’d been wounded by a pack of unruly brats.
“I seem to recall Dugan lost his wife last year, leaving him with half a dozen boys under the age of twelve. It’s difficult for a man to keep all that in line,” recalled William. “I think Nivea went to visit a few times to bring them food and supplies until they could get back on their feet.”
“And they repay her by shooting at her? She could have been killed!” Dare flailed his arms, only to wince from pain as he jolted his injury.
“Very true. We must remember that they are still young and may not realize the implications of their actions,” soothed the earl.
“That’s no damn excuse for letting them shoot at people. We need to teach these Dugans a lesson on how to behave!”
“Most assuredly. We will go to the village and have a word. But we will behave as gentlemen and not go flinging accusations about,” the earl stated.
It was easy for him to react so calmly to the situation. He wasn’t the one with a bullet hole in his side. Pulling himself back into the saddle sent another burst of pain through him, and he grew more bitter.
When they arrived in town, William took a look at Dare’s incensed expression and announced, “I’ll go talk to Dugan and see what we can find out. Wait here.”
He headed to the smithy and disappeared inside. A few moments later a large, burly man came flying out of the door.
“Ian! Robbie! Where are you, you little hellions? I’ll beat you both bloody.” He stormed into the house next door and grabbed two thin, mangy-looking lads, dragging them outside. Shaking them violently by the scruff of their necks, he bellowed, “You two have some explaining to do. Yesterday, when you should have been out helping Miss Irma tending her garden, you were up by the ruins where you shot a lord! These gentlemen tell me they found your satchel and my knife there.”
His face was as red as a blazing sun and his thick-corded arms rippled as he shook his sons. Their long, black hair whipped around their dirty faces, eyes wide with fear.
“Now, you stand here and beg forgiveness while I get the strap to beat you.” He shoved them forward and they stumbled toward the horses. With a growl, he thundered into the smithy, then emerged clutching a thick piece of leather.
The boys looked up at Dare with terror in their eyes. As he sat there, high above them on his horse, he remembered how horrendous this situation felt. His own father had towered over him, waving his whip, yelling at him over some transgression. He didn’t always know what had caused the anger, but that didn’t matter. There would be no escaping the pain.
“Speak up boys! Come clean before I beat you bloody!” yelled Dugan as he barreled over to them.
In that instant, Dare’s anger drained away. “Enough!” he yelled, immediately grimacing from the effort.
Dugan looked up. “I beg your pardon, milord. Would you like to do it then?” He turned back to his sons. “He’s within his rights, you know. You deserve no better.” He held the strap up to Dare. “Here, tire yourself out, if you like.”
The other gentlemen looked on with horror as Dare dismounted and headed toward Dugan. Most of them had been on the losing side of a boxing match with Dare when he was in a temper and were well aware of what he was capable. But just as they were on the verge of calling to him to be merciful, he announced in a strained voice, “That won’t be necessary. I would prefer to take the boys inside and have a few words with them in private.”
That brought Dugan up short. He opened his mouth to protest, but the look Dare shot him brooked no argument. The boys stared at him in terror, totally
unable to imagine what fate might befall them inside.
“Come!” he barked at them and pointed toward the house. As he strode forward, they began babbling their apologies.
“So sorry, milord. We didn’t know, milord. An accident, to be sure. We were just—”
“Landis,” shouted the earl in a warning tone.
Dare dismissed his concerns with a flick of his wrist and headed inside.
After a few moments, he called Dugan into the house. It didn’t take him long to settle the matter, and he left pleased with the outcome.
Dugan followed, bowing and scraping in his wake. “Thank you, milord. You are too kind, milord. Your mercy will not be forgotten.”
Brushing a speck of dust off his coat, Dare climbed back onto his horse.
The two boys stumbled outside. Where they had previously cowered in fear, they now stood straight and tall, nervous smiles hovering on their lips.
Dare withdrew his snuffbox, took a pinch, and glanced down at Dugan with a fierce look. Dugan bowed his head. Content the man was sufficiently cowed, Dare gave his horse a rap with his heels and set off down the road.
His friends trailed behind, remaining quiet until they reached the edge of town.
Joseph could no longer contain himself. “What in bloody hell was that all about?”
Dare kept his gaze on the road ahead. “The matter has been handled to my satisfaction. I have faith that there will be no more incidents regarding the Dugan clan.”
“But Dare—” began William, but his father cut him off.
“If Lord Landis is satisfied with the situation, so am I. Let’s go home,” said the earl, ending the conversation.
Nivea spent an anxious afternoon in the parlor awaiting Dare’s return. Tea with the women was a tense affair, listening to them gossip about the possible scenarios that could have caused Dare’s injury.
She hoped the men were able to discover what had happened out there. Being with Dare when he had been shot had been terrifying. But not wanting to publicize their growing relationship, she couldn’t share her concerns with anyone.
So she moved to sit in the far corner of the room, where she gazed out the window, sipping on her umpteenth cup of tea. She rested her head against the cool pane of glass, as though it could soothe her heated thoughts.
She couldn’t get the images from yesterday out of her mind. Dare dropping from his saddle in pain. Blood staining his shirt. And then his scars! They had made her physically ill—puckered ridges stretching across his back, some blotchy red and brown, while others curling around his shoulder and ribs had faded to a translucent shine. They were horrendous.
She couldn’t fathom how a man could do that to his son…a child. And to think no one in his family had tried to protect him. Instead, they had provoked even more punishment.
Restless, she got up from her chair to pace. How was it, after all these years, no one else knew of Dare’s torment? Not even her brother. How had he managed to keep this secret from everyone? She desperately wanted to let him know that she cared. That she loved him and nothing he had told her would change that. But would he believe her? Probably not.
She sighed.
“Nivvy? Are you all right?” Betsy reached out a hand, her brow creased with worry.
“What? Oh, yes, I’m just…erm…worried. About the shooting.” Casting about for a way to deflect her preoccupation with Dare, she blustered, “I hope the men are safe out there today.”
Betsy’s eyes teared. “Yes, I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to William. I would be…”
She couldn’t even finish the thought. Instead she dabbed at her eyes and then gulped down another sip of tea. Nivea tried to offer a comforting response, but the effort was too much. “This waiting is exhausting. I think I may go lie down.”
Betsy forced a smile, “Yes, that’s a good idea. We will let you know when the men return.”
Desperate for solitude, Nivea headed for her room. As she walked up the stairs, she began to catalogue the remarkable turn of events that had occurred over the past fortnight. There had been so much to comprehend.
First, Dare had insinuated that she was so unappealing, she was incapable of finding a husband. Then he’d ravished her, the second time while berating her over a supposed betrayal. And once she’d convinced herself that their relationship was completely ruined, he had a complete about face and announced he found her irresistible. How was that even possible? Then, he had gotten shot right in front of her eyes.
Shot! As though he hadn’t been through enough.
Exhausted, she rubbed her hand over her eyes. She couldn’t wait to lie down. Walking into her room, she was just steps away from her bed when she noticed something near the headboard. Leaning in for a closer look, her heart stuttered.
Forget-me-nots.
On her pillow.
Had Dare been in her room? Had he left forget-me-nots for her? No one else knew of her preference. In fact, no one had ever given her flowers before, not in such an intimate fashion.
She gathered them up and pressed them to her face. No longer tired, she twirled around the room. Dare had been thinking about her. He had deliberately slipped into her room. How romantic.
Wait. Hadn’t he been angry with her earlier, barking that they needed to talk?
She stretched out on the bed and tried to remember. Had he been irritated with her? And if so, why had he left her flowers?
Perhaps he hadn’t been angry. Maybe it was his pain that made him seem cross. That had to be it. He said he would sneak into her room to see her. It was dangerous, but she wasn’t about to dissuade him. After all, she was already ruined. And maybe, hopefully, it would turn to something more.
More eager than ever to see him, she scrambled to her feet and set to making herself presentable. After she rinsed her face and tidied her hair, she tucked his flowers into her bodice.
There, that was better. Now she just needed him to return. Perching on her dressing chair, she rested her chin in her hand and closed her eyes.
Tick tick tick went the clock on the mantel.
Tap tap tap went her fingers on her cheek.
Tick tick…sigh.
Tap tap—argh!
Just when she thought she could take no more of the waiting, she heard voices in the front hall.
Chapter 24
Oh, thank God. Nivea raced down the stairs and searched the faces of the men as they appeared in the entranceway. She was pleased to see they were in good spirits. But Dare was not among them. Where was he? Was he all right? Just as an unreasonable panic started to build, the door opened and he strolled in.
Before she could approach him, Amelia waved everyone into the parlor. “I’m so glad you’ve returned,” she said, drawing her arm through her husband’s. “We were so worried. Did you find anything out?”
“Nothing to fear,” the earl answered, kissing her fondly on the forehead. “Let me get a drink and we’ll explain what we found.”
Amelia poured him a cup of tea and after taking a sip, he announced, “The shooting was an accident. The blacksmith’s boys had gone into the woods to practice their aim and must have shot wide. They have been made to understand the unfortunate consequences of their actions. It should not occur again.”
There was a palpable sigh of relief throughout the room, and then the women gathered closer to ask questions. Seeking an excuse to speak with Dare, Nivea poured him a cup of tea and crossed over to where he was leaning against the doorjamb. Judging by the tight lines around his mouth, she could tell he was suffering.
In a gentle tone, she asked, “Lord Landis, how are you feeling?”
“I’m perfectly all right,” he answered, straightening. The ruse cost him, and he flinched. She ached to hold him, comfort him, but this wasn’t the time or the place. Tonight. In her room. That was what he’d requested. But noting the weary slump of his shoulders, she wasn’t so certain.
“Do you still wish to speak with me this evening
?”
His eyes closed as though the thought pained him. When he reopened them, his gaze was focused, intense. “No, it can wait. I think I will head upstairs for the evening.”
That was disappointing. She wasn’t sure she could get through the night without talking to him…making sure he was all right. That they were all right. When he moved to take his leave, she placed a hand on his arm. “If you don’t mind, I would like to check on your wound.”
When she saw he was about to refuse, she blurted out, “Please, I feel partly to blame. If we hadn’t gone riding, this wouldn’t have happened. I will bring up another poultice to your room. I won’t stay long, I assure you.”
He must have been too tired to argue, as he shrugged in agreement.
As she turned back toward the room, she saw her brother was watching her, his brows drawn and his mouth pinched. Had Dare told them that they had been riding together? If he suspected there was anything untoward between them, it would not go well. Determined to paint an innocent picture, she approached her stepmother and announced rather loudly “Amelia, Dare said he was tired and would like to have supper brought up to his room this evening. Would you like me to inform Cook?”
“Yes, dear, that’s a good idea. I’m sure today was a strain for him.”
Nivea rushed out the door and headed toward the kitchen.
Upon entering his room, Dare slowly pulled off his jacket, unable to stifle a gasp of pain. Jackson reached for the garment and laid it aside. “My lord, were you able to discover who shot you?”
Dare felt a bit foolish, admitting that he’d been shot by a mere child, but word would spread, so he might as well play it off as best he could. “Nothing too dramatic, I fear. Although it would have been more scintillating if it had been an act of bitter retribution over a lifelong grudge, it was in fact village boys practicing their shots. It will not happen again.”
“Very good, sir.” Thankfully, Jackson knew better than to ply him with sympathy, so he returned the conversation to matters at hand. “Will you be joining the Horshams for dinner? I can lay out your eveningwear.”
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