Sweat pricked on the back of her neck.
A hand came to her arm. Just a little more movement was all she needed.
She whirled and brought her head down on Niall’s face. She only succeeded in hitting his chin but he staggered back in shock. One more kick and her feet were free so she brought her knee up between his legs, and he crumpled with an agonised moan.
Cleo wasted no more time. She ran.
Weaving between the trees and bobbing under branches, she raced until her lungs burned. Thank goodness she knew the woods so well and her small frame meant she was fast—hopefully faster than Niall. She paused for a minute, her back to a tree, and listened.
Sucking in gulps of air, she tried to force her own breaths to quieten but shudders wracked her. How close she had been to being kidnapped. Another tremor rumbled through her. But she was still not safe.
She peered up at the leafy canopy. No sun tried to push through the gaps in the leaves. Indeed, it looked as though it might rain at any moment and then what? She could be trapped here for quite some time, soaking and wet. The alternative was to run home but once Niall recovered, he would be back on his horse and could outpace her easily.
Bottom lip tucked under her teeth, she eyed the woods. A tiny stream cut through it about ten paces from her. If she followed it, it led to a small wooden bridge that had been there for many years. No one quite knew who had built it but they had always enjoyed hanging their feet off it in warmer weather.
A good hiding spot perhaps. She shook her head. No, she was too big for that.
She thought again. The hollow in the birch trees. Would that work? She had once hidden there for almost an hour and no one had ever found her. She didn’t think Niall knew of it.
Yes. She nodded to herself. That would do.
A crack from somewhere behind her spurred her movements. She raced along the stream edge and then up over several fallen trees. The cluster of trees still existed, thankfully, their branches curving up and inward to create the perfect hidey hole. Because she had been the smallest of them, she’d been the only one able to fit through the tiniest of gaps. She was not nearly so short now but she was still skinny. Lord, she hoped she fit.
Wasting no time, she jammed her shoulder up against the tiny gap. Branches scratched her skin and tugged at her hair and clothes. She heard a rip.
But she was through. She tumbled out into the shadowy centre and landed on her chest. Mud clung to her body, her hands and even her wild hair. Cleo could hardly bring herself to care, though. Here, she might possibly be safe.
She pushed herself up a little and wriggled her wrists. The bonds were tight and rubbed harshly against her skin. Her ankles had likely suffered the same fate but thankfully her stockings had protected her somewhat. She bit back a cry when the fabric chafed her already sensitive skin.
A shuffling noise made her still.
She drew in a breath and held it. When she released it again, it seemed like the loudest noise in the world. More shuffling, the crack of twigs, the sound of trees being pushed aside. Had he found her? She could hardly see through the dense protection of the trees.
“Cleo,” Niall called.
Her heart threw itself against her rib cage. She stopped breathing entirely.
“Cleo,” he called again. “Do not be like this; I only ever wanted to love you.”
His love she could do without, she thought bitterly. What sort of a love drove a man to act like that? She was not sure he even loved her really. He only knew the tiniest part of her--the polite, kind part of her that wanted the awkward young Niall not to be left out. Certainly she could be polite and kind, but that was not all there was to her. Gideon knew that, and he loved every facet to her, she was sure of it.
That was the sort of love she wanted.
“Cleo,” he called once more, the sound growing nearer.
Her tongue grew dry. She twined her fingers together behind her back and closed her eyes. Dear God, don’t let him find her.
There was a rustle. And the noise stopped. Footsteps moved back. She pressed herself closer to the tree and squinted through the tiniest gap. Her prayers had been answered, he was leaving.
She peered at her hiding spot and uttered a silent thank you. Now she simply had to decide how long should she remain here before she could safely escape and return home?
Chapter Eighteen
The last time Gideon had ridden this hard across Cleo’s land had been when they were younger and less concerned about breaking a leg. He gripped the reins until they bit into his palms and pushed hard. Rain began to drip over the brim of his hat. Damn this weather.
His head still pounded painfully. He’d been knocked senseless most of the night. Apparently Harper had seen fit to drag him into the undergrowth for the night so no one had spotted him, but he supposed he should be grateful that he was alive. Apparently his family assumed he had spent the night with Cleo.
He reached Chetwyn House as the small puddles on the road were turning into great lakes. Water splashed up his legs. He dismounted and tossed the horse’s reins over the iron fencing. He half-expected someone to come out and stop him when he strode in through the door but instead, Cleo’s mother sprinted over and gripped onto him.
“Cleo’s gone!” she declared. “Do you know where she is?”
He shook his head. Numbness seeped inside him.
“Gideon, you must tell me if you know. She argued with her father and now...” She drew back and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “There’s blood in her room, Gideon. Blood.”
The numbness inside him vanished. It turned to ice water. “Bloody hell.” He took Lady Halford’s hand and forced her to look at him. “Did anyone see anything?”
She shook her head. “We went out for the morning. Cleo decided to stay in her room after that little tiff with her father. I knew he’d been too harsh on her.” She sniffed. “When we returned, she was nowhere to be found and then...we spotted blood on the bedpost and carpet.”
“Lots?” He hated even asking the question, hated the images it conjured. This had to be Harpers doing.
Her father strode into the room, his expression stern. “Not much. It does not look like she was bleeding heavily, but to my mind, it looked as though there had been a struggle. A few ornaments were askew and knocked over.” Lord Halford eyed him severely. “I have not been impressed with your behaviour of late, Gideon, but I hope I am right in assuming you had nothing to do with this.”
“I swear it.”
“Good.”
“Have you sent anyone out yet?”
“We only just returned. I was gathering some of the lads now.”
“I’ll go. I know this land better than anyone.”
“Be careful,” her mother said. “And find my Cleo.”
“I will,” Gideon promised.
“I shall send the rest of the men after you,” her father declared. “Send a few to the village and the pub perhaps.”
“Tell them to be careful.” He drew in a breath, debating how much to tell them. “I believe Niall has Cleo. He could be dangerous.”
He didn’t wait for them to ask any more questions before turning and racing outside. He swung up into the saddle and urged the horse into a gallop. Perhaps Halford’s men would find Cleo, but he doubted it. If he was Niall, he’d be taking the forest route out of here and likely aiming for the train station for a quick getaway. Once he got Cleo to London or one of the bigger cities, she’d be impossible to find.
He wouldn’t let that happen.
His head pounded faintly still but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind. Nothing hurt as much as considering what Harper could do to Cleo. If she was bleeding...
He shook his head. Harper might be mad, but he suspected his affection for Cleo was real—at least in his mind. Hopefully he would not hurt her.
Slowing the pace, he directed the horse into the forest. The rain managed to seep through the canopy though it gave him a little respite fro
m the downpour. Although he was aware the water was steadily dripping down his neck and seeping under his jacket, he did not feel the cold. Strong determination forbid him from feeling anything but the need to find Cleo.
He followed the path for some time and noted the horse hoof indents. It could have been any horse but he thought it unlikely. Few people took this path, opting for the solid road instead. It had been their favourite place to play as children thanks to its remoteness.
Gideon must have searched for half an hour before hearing a sound that had his heart jolting.
“Cleo,” Harper called.
He couldn’t help but grin. It seemed he’d lost her.
Bunching his muscles and recalling the rather bold actions of his brother, he picked up speed. He was upon Harper before the man had even spotted him. Harper was up upon horseback, as Gideon assumed he would be so he jumped, his arms extended. Harper hit the ground with him and pain tore through his side. The breath was knocked from him.
But he could waste no time feeling pity for himself. He lifted up and gripped Harper’s shirt front. Harper groaned and tried to shove him away. He gave a lazy swing with his fist too. Gideon dodged it easily.
“Where is she?” Gideon demanded.
“I do not know,” Harper declared.
He gave another swing and this time it hit Gideon in the side. Though it was hardly a powerful punch, the hard landing had likely cracked a rib and stars burst in front of his eyes. Harper dragged himself to his feet.
“Harper,” Gideon shouted.
The man tried to stumble away but Gideon lunged out with his arms and gripped his ankles. He stumbled to the ground and Gideon moved once more to pin him. He grunted when several blows struck his sides again but he refused to let him go.
“Where is she, damn you? What have you done with her?” He shook him hard. “If you have hurt her, I swear...”
“I haven’t! I never would.”
Harper’s eyes were wild, so out of control. Gideon had never seen such a look from him. Cleo was his undoing apparently. Not that he could blame the man.
“It was all your fault. You and your father. She would have trusted me had you not interfered.”
“I wasn’t the one dealing in stolen jewels.”
“It was all to create a good life for her. To give her what she deserves.”
“Cleo deserves an honest man. A man who would not take her against her will.”
“Like you?” Harper spat.
Gideon grinned. “Yes, like me.”
“You never liked her before. Why now? Why must you ruin it all?”
He shrugged. “Because I was blind. But now I am not. Now tell me, where did you lose her?”
He gave a sigh and sagged in his hold. “Back near the stream. But I have been searching for a while. She is nowhere to be seen.”
Gideon could not help but release a tilted smile. Clever Cleo. She knew these forests better than both of them.
“You had better hope I find her before she comes to harm,” he threatened.
Harper nodded and gave an ineffectual wriggle. “You don’t deserve her, Gideon.”
He shrugged and glanced up at the Harper’s horse. “I’ll try my damndest to, though.” He peered at the rope, slung over Harper’s saddle. “Did you tie her up, you bastard?”
A flash of annoyance tore across Harper’s face. “She wouldn’t come easily,” he protested. “I had to.”
He tried to wriggle out from under him again. Anger burned under Gideon’s skin. The idea of Cleo bound and helpless made his breaths feel heated. When Harper tried again, pressing his hands against Gideon’s painful rib, he pulled back a fist and brought it across his face.
Harper’s struggle ceased. His eyes rolled a little. It wasn’t enough to knock him out but it did what Gideon needed. He would not be struggling anymore.
Gideon yanked the rope off the horse and used it to bind his feet and hands, all in one big elaborate knot. Then he dragged Harper over to a solid oak tree and looped it around that. He admired his work.
“You cannot leave me here!”
“If I find Cleo, I shall come for you,” he promised.
He coaxed Peridot back from where he'd been impatiently moving around and mounted him. With one last glance at Harper, defeated, bloody and filthy, he headed toward the stream.
Tethering the horse to a tree, he dismounted and followed the water farther into the woods. He recognised the bridge on which they used to play. He paused to eye the area and grinned to himself. He knew exactly where she was. Many years ago they had played a game of hide and seek and she’d remained hidden for hours. Only later had she shown him where she’d been but he did not think Niall had ever known.
“Cleo!” he called, nearing the cluster of trees.
There was a rustle then the trees parted. A blur of pale blue and brown flung itself at him. He instinctively bundled the filthy, wet woman against him.
“Gideon.”
“Cleo.”
He moved back enough to view her. Though her skin was pale and her freckles were hardly visible--the mud coating her face did not help—she looked well enough. A little blood crusted on her forehead.
“You’re filthy,” he said.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” she warned him.
He pressed his lips together.
“If you laugh, I shall be forced to--”
“Forced to what.”
“Kiss you!”
He looked into her sparkling blue eyes and laughed and laughed.
She did as she’d promised and silenced him.
Chapter Nineteen
“If another person comments again how I snapped up the last Cynfell brother, I’m going to scream,” Cleo hissed.
Gideon chuckled. “It’s not like I have not had the same comments.” He nodded toward one of his distant relatives who lifted his glass of wine. “But I really would rather you did not scream.” He held his wife close as they waltzed around the ballroom at Lockwood. “Not yet at least.”
Cleo’s eyes twinkled. “I hope we shan’t have to wait much longer.”
“One last dance ought to keep everyone happy then I can take my wife to bed.”
Colour tinged her skin. It had been a long few weeks of wedding plans and they had hardly had much time together since his proposal. The gossips would likely relish in the fact he had jumped in to save Cleo after her fiancé had been jailed and sentenced to labour for jewel theft. With his father’s testimony and the evidence from the family in Leicestershire, and the stash found on Harper when he’d been handed in the courts had had an easy time of convicting him. It hadn’t taken them long to catch up with his accomplice either.
He admired his wife in her elegant cream and white gown that displayed her fiery red hair to perfection. Of course, society would love to believe a Cynfell brother had jumped in to do the right thing and save a woman from ruin. And of course, he would do anything for Cleo, but it was not so unselfish an act. After all, look what he gained in the bargain.
“Have I told you you’re beautiful?”
“Hmmm, I cannot recall.”
He knew he had. At least a hundred times. And he intended to say it at least one hundred more before the day ended.
“You are beautiful. My beautiful Cleo. Why did it take me so long to see how much I needed you?”
“I have been asking myself the same question. Why did I never see? Why did I ever think accepting Niall was a good idea? I should have dropped onto one knee and demanded you marry me instead.”
“You really should have.”
Cleo smiled. “I suppose we just needed a little something to wake us up. We should be grateful to Niall in some ways. We might not have ever woken up if it had not been for him.”
“Don’t you dare say that. I would have realised eventually.”
“Really, Cynfell?” She pressed a quick kiss to his chin. “I think you would have ignored me forever.”
“How could I? You ar
e utterly impossible to ignore.”
“And there you make me sound like quite the handful, husband.”
“You absolutely are, and I love being the one to handle you.” He glanced around. “I imagine we can escape soon.”
He watched his brothers and their wives. All were tired after the long day. Julian’s oldest son Oliver was about the only one with any energy left and was currently running around the tables. All the other children were abed and hopefully sound asleep. The easy affection of his brothers with their wives made him smile. His mother and the marquess had not been the model of marriage for him, but he knew he could not fail with his brothers’ examples to follow.
Pierce pressed a kiss to Evelyn’s head. Ash smoothed his hand across Lila’s belly. Julian rubbed Viola’s shoulders. Harris was tucked in a corner whispering something likely scandalous in Anna’s ears. Josephine and Dante were playfully sharing a slice of cake. And Jasper and Henrietta were dancing slowly to one side.
Yes, he would have no trouble creating a successful marriage with his brothers to follow.
“Your mother is dancing with your father,” Cleo whispered.
He glanced over to see St. Clair with his mother in hand. He watched them for a moment. Had his mother loved St. Clair? He hadn’t asked. Had not felt comfortable enough too really. But from the way they looked at each other, he had to wonder. A half-smile sat on his mother’s lips whilst she looked up in his father’s eyes. There was no doubting St. Clair still held her in great affection.
Gideon turned his attention back to Cleo. “I wish them the best.”
“It would be nice if they found love together.”
“I suspect they once did.”
“Well, I hope they find it again. They both deserve someone.”
He chuckled. His wife was ever the optimist, but he couldn’t help agree. St. Clair had become a much bigger part of his life over the past month. He’d discovered they were similar in many ways and could enjoy each other’s company. His mother had never really changed but he was beginning to see a new side to her. She had spent much of her life unhappily married and that had no doubt impacted all of them. He hoped she could be happy now.
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