“It involves me. I don’t see why I shouldn’t go to the station, too. Won’t I need to make a statement?” She wouldn’t be pushed aside to let the men handle her affairs.
“It is the usual procedure in such a case.” The constable scratched his head, as if uncertain.
“Indeed not,” Marcus said, taking charge. “Mrs. Kendal can make her statements here and go home where she is safe.”
“It’s Chief Constable Smith now, if you will, Captain Thorne. I will certainly make allowances for your family. The woman is free to go.”
Eve rolled her eyes. Would they all discount her so easily? She, the supposed target of the alleged attack? She held her ground. “But first, Mr. Lawson, what is this debt you speak of? I don’t believe I owe you anything.”
“I owe you.” Mr. Lawson shook his head. “A small amount, but fair is fair. Your husband overpaid. I only wanted to make it right.”
“There, you see.” Eve turned to Marcus and the constable. “No harm done. Why don’t we let the man pay me and send him on his way? Thank you, Mr. Lawson. I appreciate the effort you must have gone to in order to track me down.”
Mr. Lawson nodded. “Quite an effort.”
Marcus shook his head, unsatisfied. “All that effort to pay a pittance? Why not rely on the mail? I don’t believe it.”
“I’m an honest man,” Lawson said. “Do I look like a murderous ruffian?”
Constable Smith threw up his hands. “Who is to say? It seems a logical explanation. Why would he come all this way to make mischief, Captain Thorne? Let’s allow the man to settle his affairs and be done with it here. No need for questioning. We have our answers.”
“Perhaps I would like to press charges against this clod for attacking me.” Mr. Lawson gestured at Marcus. “Yes, I believe I would.”
The constable sighed. “To the station it is, then. Both of you. We’ll settle this once and for all. Good day, Mrs. Kendal.”
“But I should come along as a witness,” Eve said.
“You will do no such thing. Go home, Eve. I’m asking, not commanding. I would prefer to know you are safe. Please.”
The look of concern in Marcus’s eyes made her knees turn to jelly.
“Very well, then. I will see you at Thornbrook Park.”
Trying mightily to hold on to her composure, she walked off, grateful for each step that took her farther from Marcus when all she wanted to do was propel herself into his arms. Perhaps after slapping him for not letting her manage the business on her own.
It was time she faced the facts. She had a longing for Captain Marcus Thorne that she could not deny. To pursue him any further would mean alienating her best and only friend, and being left to fend for herself in the world—a very uncertain prospect considering her lost savings—as well as destroying Marcus’s chance to help the Coopers. If she craved Marcus like an opium addict craved the tincture of the poppy, it didn’t matter. It was entirely hopeless between them.
She had to fight her attraction, bury it deep, and pretend it didn’t exist. She had no other choice.
***
For the first time since coming back from the war, hitting a man had not abated Marcus’s rage. He’d wanted to pummel Oliver Lawson into a bloody, mashed-up pulp—and then keep going. Not even being in the presence of the chief constable, a boyhood rival and occasional friend, would have stopped him. It was looking into the depths of Eve Kendal’s eyes that had calmed him, the striking blue washing over him like the foam of ocean waves, soothing him at once.
She didn’t seem to realize the danger posed by a man following her with a knife clutched in his hand. But then, she hadn’t watched the scene unfold as he had.
Why would anyone wish to harm Eve Kendal? The charges against Marcus were dropped readily enough as soon as they arrived at the constable’s office and Marcus began countering Lawson’s accusations of brutality with questions regarding Lawson’s intentions toward Eve. The connection of Lawson to her life in India troubled Marcus immensely. There was something more there, something sinister.
Marcus believed it had to do with money, but not as Oliver Lawson claimed. He’d established that Lawson hailed from London and claimed ownership of several properties in India, which he apparently rented to expatriates like the Kendals. According to Lawson, Captain Kendal had eschewed the usual arrangements made by the army in favor of renting privately to put his wife in a more familiar setting, a small country house such as one might find in England.
Marcus couldn’t explain why he’d felt a twinge of something like envy at the thought of Eve and her husband living comfortably together in a house. Her husband had obviously been considerate and doting, and Marcus should be satisfied to hear it. Eve deserved happiness.
His feelings on the matter were all mixed up. He couldn’t tell exactly what to make of them, the queer tugging in his lungs when he’d thought of her getting hurt, the sudden peace that had come over him when he’d looked deep into her eyes.
He had saved Eve from personal injury; he knew he had. Somehow it all tied back to her husband and his investments. Marcus was certain of it. Her missing solicitor, and now this man Lawson coming after her with a knife, there had to be a connection. He would get a telegram to Tom Reilly and step up the investigation into Eve’s finances. God only knew why he felt it his duty to solve Eve Kendal’s difficulties, but suddenly he had an overwhelming urge to protect her.
Of course, becoming personally involved with his sister-in-law’s friend instead of the intended Lady Alice was in direct opposition to his goal of helping the Coopers. He had to tread carefully. And perhaps it wouldn’t hurt if he avoided looking deep into Eve Kendal’s exquisite eyes.
He took Lawson’s money to give to Eve, a few pounds that wouldn’t make much difference here or there, and then he waited at the station to see that the man boarded his train. He couldn’t convince Chief Constable Smith to keep Oliver Lawson locked up, but he felt better seeing that the man had gone back to London, out of Eve’s way.
Eve remained safe for now, but Marcus would feel uneasy until he could see her again, could reassure himself that she had made it back to Thornbrook Park safely. He walked as fast as possible up the hill and beyond, only allowing himself to stop and breathe once he rounded the corner and came across Eve, perfectly well, with Alice and Mr. Winthrop out on the lawn.
“Alice was eager to begin her tennis lessons,” Eve explained. “She accompanied us home from the Dower House.”
So it seemed that Eve hadn’t informed the others of the attack. She didn’t want to worry them, or didn’t think it worth mentioning? Drat, if he couldn’t manage to get her alone again soon.
“Tennis, Captain Thorne.” Alice smiled. Her cheeks were flushed, but it seemed more from activity than from any delight in seeing him. “I found Mr. Winthrop and harassed him until he agreed to join us for doubles.”
“I had to have a fellow fetch the net anyway. I might as well join in.” Winthrop came over and shook his hand. “Good to see you again, Captain.”
“And you.” Marcus wondered what kind of magic Alice possessed over Mr. Winthrop to convince him to join in an afternoon’s sport. “We’re to have a game, then?”
“First, what are the rules?” Alice made her way to Marcus. “Perhaps you could show me how.”
“Show you?” Marcus started. Was she flirting with him? He didn’t mind Alice’s company, but it would feel awkward taking her in his arms, even to demonstrate tennis, with Eve looking on.
Alice tossed the ball in the air and caught it. “Of course. Mrs. Kendal can play with Mr. Winthrop, and I will play with you. You can instruct me as we go.”
Marcus would much rather have been on a side with Eve, to be close to her, but he was safer sticking close to Alice. “Are you game, Mr. Winthrop? Is the court ready for us?”
“You had better be good, Mrs. Ken
dal.” Winthrop removed his coat and draped it on the porch railing. Marcus followed suit. “When I play, I don’t like to lose.”
“Very interesting confession, Mr. Winthrop.” Eve took up a racquet. “I might have guessed that about you.”
She might have guessed? Marcus did not like the turn of events. At all. Eve found Mr. Winthrop interesting? He suddenly summed Winthrop up as a rival instead of merely his brother’s estate manager, and he was strangely dissatisfied with the result.
Marcus had to admit that Winthrop was not a bad looking man. Dark hair, dark eyes. Though Winthrop had about five years on Marcus, he was in as good or better physical condition, undoubtedly from hauling soil and wood all hither and yon, since he insisted on laboring with the groundskeepers. If Marcus wasn’t mistaken, the man stood an inch or two taller than he was. And finally, he had the undeniable advantage of being resident at Thornbrook Park, in the cottage at the edge of the estate, under employ, and in no danger of being cut off for preferring Eve to Alice.
Suddenly, and without thinking, Marcus whacked the ball in his rival’s direction.
“Heads up,” he shouted, thinking the better of it once he’d let it fly. “Sorry, that one got away from me.”
“Quite all right, Captain Thorne.” To his combined relief and disappointment, Winthrop leaped out of the way in time.
“How do you hold this properly?” Alice, who had seemed perfectly capable moments earlier, suddenly struggled to get a grip on her racquet.
Forgetting his earlier misgivings, Marcus wrapped his arms around Alice and pulled her close, showing her how to place her hands on the grip, all the while looking over to see if Eve took any notice. She did. So much the better. It reminded him of holding Eve in his arms to teach her how to spar.
“Like so,” Marcus said, whispering right into Alice’s ear as he adjusted her fingers, then pulled her tighter so he could demonstrate the motion of the swing. Together, they leaned, moved their hips, and followed through. If he wasn’t mistaken, Eve made a face from across the court. “There, you see? Smooth and easy.”
“Yes, I see,” Alice said. “One more time to be sure I have it right.”
They repeated the procedure, but Eve had turned to say something to Mr. Winthrop. Winthrop laughed. Eve laughed. Both Alice and Marcus seemed to freeze in place, as if forgetting what they were doing.
“Should we try it with a ball now?” Marcus said, trying to get back to business. He dropped his arms and stepped away.
“No, I’ve got it.” Alice made her way to the net. “Shall we all shake hands first and wish each other a good match? Isn’t that the sporting thing to do?”
Marcus wasn’t about to argue with a chance to get close to the net and take Eve’s hand. He dared to look at her directly when he did so, and her eyes flashed a challenge. The minx. Did she think she could beat him?
“We’ll go easy on you, Lady Alice. Since it’s your first time.” Mr. Winthrop seemed equally smug.
Alice snorted in response. “No need. I’m a fast learner. Shall we, Captain?”
He nodded. “I believe it’s customary for the newcomers to serve first.”
“I’ve never heard of such a custom,” Eve said from across the court. “But we will allow it. She might even take a few practice shots before we start counting points.”
Alice delivered a hard smack of a serve, sending the ball flying straight in Eve’s direction before Eve had time to react.
“Whee! I believe that’s a point for us.” Alice jumped up and down.
“Yes. Fifteen-love,” Winthrop said. “Again, Lady Alice. Just like that. You’re doing well.”
Eve laughed. “Whose side are you on, Mr. Winthrop?”
“Love? Who said anything about love?” Alice seemed bewildered until Eve explained the scorekeeping.
Apparently, Winthrop was on Eve’s side after all. They went on to win the first set, with Marcus scoring the decisive point to tie them up on the next.
“One more,” Winthrop said. “I’ve got some work to get back to before the sun goes down.”
“Yes,” Eve agreed. “It’s getting late.”
Marcus barely paid attention to the conversation because he was so busy watching Eve’s breasts rise and fall as she lifted her arms to make the serve. How he wanted to see her in all her glory, without a single stitch to cover her! Intimate as they had been, they still hadn’t been afforded an opportunity to strip down together. And he wouldn’t have the chance, he reminded himself. It was Alice he should be imagining naked.
For her part, Alice seemed more taken with Mr. Winthrop than she was with Marcus. It seemed perhaps Alice and Marcus found themselves in a similar predicament, destined for disappointment. They played the last match with a marked lack of enthusiasm, as if they had both completely given up and let their opponents win.
***
Game over, Eve put down her racquet and prepared to head back inside. She’d wanted to win, but it felt a hollow victory when she looked across the lawn to see Alice and Marcus together. Though she wanted to hear what had happened with the constable, she suddenly couldn’t get away fast enough.
“Thank you, Mr. Winthrop. I must get back.” She turned on her heel and fled before Marcus and Alice were done patting each other on the back for their efforts.
“Mrs. Kendal.” Marcus caught up with her just inside the hall.
“Yes, Captain Thorne.” Deliberately formal, she took a breath and turned to face him before he followed her all the way up the stairs.
“Eve.” He gripped her hands. “That man meant to kill you. We both know it.”
“I’m not so certain, Marcus. He is an odd bird, I’ll grant you. I only met him a few times, but he seemed courteous enough, mild-mannered. He’s not the type to strike fear in the heart, really, is he?”
He placed the pound notes in her palm. “He had these for you, or so he claims. Your refund for your remaining month’s rent.”
She tucked the notes in her pocket. “Well, that should come in handy. There, you see? He was true to his word. He dropped the charges, I presume?”
Marcus nodded, but remained steadfast in his effort to change her opinion of Lawson. “I think we both know it has to do with your money. He’s wrapped up in it all somehow. That cousin who came looking for you? It was Lawson. He claims he didn’t think you would have responded to his request to see you if he gave his name. I think he meant to lure you out of the house to kill you. It’s a good thing that we were out when he called.”
“It is curious that he turned up now, of all times.” She nibbled her lip, considering. “I wonder if it was Mr. Strump who introduced Ben to Mr. Lawson.”
“It will be easy enough to work out the connection once I fill Tom Reilly in. I made sure Lawson got on the London train. You’re safe for now. For tonight.” He pulled her close and embraced her. “Good God, Eve, if anything had happened to you.”
The last thing she wanted was to push him away. She felt safe in his arms, treasured. It was a feeling that she’d never thought to have again. “Not here, Marcus. Anyone could walk in.”
“To the library, then? Let’s go.” He urged her along. “No one will find us there. I need you to myself for just a little while.”
“We’re playing with fire,” she said, even as she willingly went along, desperate to be scorched.
Eighteen
One of the maids happened to be dusting the library when they made their entrance.
Marcus dropped his hand from Eve’s waist and took a discreet step away from her. “It’s a page-turner, Mrs. Kendal. I believe it will hold your interest. Now where did I leave it?”
He began perusing a shelf for the supposed reading recommendation that had brought them to the library as Ginny, the maid, bowed and left the room.
“Oh, I remember where I left it.” He spoke loudly in cas
e Ginny remained at the door. “I’ll bring it to you in the drawing room before dinner.”
“Thank you, Captain Thorne.”
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “In five minutes, make your way to my room. Don’t knock, just enter. I’ll go ahead first so we’re not seen going together.”
Such a risk, it seemed, but no less so than making love in the library. Once he left her, she picked up a book to look occupied in case Ginny returned. She would go to his room, and she would tell him that they couldn’t possibly continue. It was madness to think they could carry off an affair at Thornbrook Park without drawing further notice. As the minutes ticked away, she wondered if perhaps she shouldn’t meet him at all.
But as the time drew nearer, her feet followed the corridor straight to Marcus’s bedchamber. She reached for the knob, but pulled her hand back, turned, and went to her own room. It was the right thing to do, she assured herself. Going to him now would only make it harder to leave him to Alice. She stepped inside, shut the door fast behind her, and leaned against it with her eyes closed.
How close she had come to a foolish decision!
She opened her eyes. Sunflowers. Sunflowers over every surface, draped on tables, scattered across her bed, in a vase on the dressing table, woven through the knobs on the drawers, a trail across the carpet. Sunflowers mean adoration, he’d said. He’d known then what she would find. He’d somehow made time to pick them before he’d gone to Lady Alice with roses. Pink roses, for mere admiration. He must have had a trusted footman waiting to scatter them while she was out. She picked up a handful and ran down the hall to his room. This time, without hesitation, she turned the knob and walked in.
“What do you mean by this?” she meant to say. “Where do we stand? Is it true? You adore me?” But the words died in her throat. She simply held the flowers out, the questions in her eyes.
“Eve.” Even if she’d thought of turning to leave, she was in his arms as soon as the door closed behind her. Marcus ran the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, and she felt the heat pooling deep inside her, molten ore.
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