“No, I was with Gran,” Oliver reminded him. “And we came at night. Desmond just said he heard the shots right before dusk.”
“All I know is that the horse was from your stables,” Desmond said. “That much I remember.”
“He’s right,” Gabe said grimly. “We had a horse just like that.”
“If someone came upon them right after they died, why didn’t the person say anything?” Stoneville said.
“For the same reason as Desmond, probably,” Minerva said. She stood outside the circle, still supporting Ned, who was looking decidedly peaked. “For fear they might be accused of their deaths.”
“Whoever it was must have been going there for a reason, though,” Jarret pointed out. “He might have known why Mother and Father were there—might even have been going to join them. We should find out who it was.”
“That won’t be easy,” Giles said. “Any of the guests at the house party could have taken that horse out of the stables.”
“Not just guests,” Minerva pointed out. “With so many people on the estate, a complete stranger could probably have taken a horse, and the grooms might not have realized he wasn’t with the guests.”
“Or she,” Jarret said. “Let’s not rule out a woman. So now we’re back to needing to question the grooms. Assuming Pinter can track them all down.”
Ned moaned, and Minerva said, “We can talk about this more later. We’ve got to get Ned back to the house and fetch a doctor. I don’t want my husband having to endure a trial for murder, even if he was defending me.”
That galvanized her brothers into action. They hoisted Ned onto Desmond’s horse, and Stoneville led it toward the mansion. Giles kept his pistol trained on Desmond as the brothers continued to pepper him with questions about what he’d seen in the hunting lodge.
Regrettably, he hadn’t seen enough to be useful. So Minerva mentioned Giles’s visit there, and despite the grumbling from Stoneville about her meddling, Giles laid out everything he’d noticed. That sparked more discussion about their parents’ deaths.
Stoneville promised to have Pinter out to Halstead Hall first thing the next morning so they could give the runner the new information and see what more he could learn.
They’d finally reached the house, where two very anxious wives and Minerva’s grandmother came running out to learn what had happened.
While Minerva sent a servant off to fetch a doctor for Ned, Hetty Plumtree demanded to hear the whole story. Once they were done telling her everything, she rounded on Desmond with the fury of a lioness protecting her cubs. “How dare you come onto my grandson’s property and try to steal what wasn’t yours!”
“There wasn’t anything to steal!” Desmond cried. “They told you—it was a misunderstanding.”
“The only misunderstanding was in their not coming to me first, to let me know what they suspected of you. If I’d heard any of this, I would have demanded answers of you. Hell, I would have had your head!”
“You were ill, Mrs. Plumtree,” Giles put in. “Your grandsons didn’t want to worry you.”
She shot him a dark glance. “And you, young man, helping them keep all this from me! I thought you were on my side!”
“I am,” Giles said. When Minerva raised an eyebrow at him, he added, “Sort of.”
“Then call me Gran like the rest of them,” she said with a sniff. “You’re part of the family now.” Then she marched over to where Ned had been laid on a settee to await the doctor. “But you, my own great-nephew. How dare you pull a knife on your own cousin!”
“I had to!” he protested. “She was going to ruin everything, she and that damned husband of hers.”
“Stop cursing! And stop your whining, too. I have done everything I could to help your father, and he repays me by filling your ears with poison and teaching you to hate your cousins. He started out in this world with plenty of advantages: my brother left him a perfectly good cotton mill. It is not anyone else’s fault that Desmond has frittered it all away with bad management. For God’s sake, he even hires children to run his mills!”
“It’s the only way I can make it pay,” Desmond complained.
“Nonsense. I make the brewery pay, and there are no children working there,” she snapped. She leveled a hard glance at both of the Plumtrees. “So what am I to do with you two? I cannot have you continuing this sort of nonsense simply because you resent your cousins.”
“You could hand them over to the authorities,” Oliver drawled. “I’d be all for that.”
“So would I,” Giles added.
She shot them a quelling glance. “And have everyone talking about us in the papers again? Not on your life. I am finally getting your names out of the gossip rags, and I mean to keep them out.”
“Besides, prosecuting them would make Cousin Bertha and the other children suffer, too,” Minerva pointed out, “which hardly seems fair, since they didn’t do anything. If you ask me, you should let Ned and Desmond both go home.”
At the storm of protest that rose around her, she cried, “Let me finish! What if we agree not to prosecute them in exchange for Desmond agreeing to stop using children to run his mill?”
That gave everyone pause. Personally, Giles would rather have watched Ned hang, but he knew his tenderhearted wife would never stand for it. And he was beginning to think she had a better instinct about these things than he did.
“That sounds like a fine proposal to me,” Gran said.
“Now see here,” Desmond complained. “How can I run my mill without workers?”
“Try hiring workers of a respectable age and paying them a decent wage,” Jarret drawled. “It works rather well for the brewery.” A cold smile touched Jarret’s lips. “In fact, I am willing to agree to the arrangement Minerva proposes, providing that I get to oversee its implementation. Doesn’t that sound enjoyable, Desmond? Me and you and young Ned working together in Rochester to help your mill run more successfully?”
Jarret’s expression of ruthless intent made Giles stifle a laugh. Jarret might help the mill in the end, but he would make Desmond’s life a living hell first.
Desmond looked as if he might protest again. Then he glanced around at the men gathered there and drew himself up stiffly. “That would be fine, cousin.”
Apparently Desmond had some brains after all. He knew when he was being handed a reprieve he didn’t deserve.
Just then, the doctor arrived from Ealing. After examining Ned, he confirmed that the injury wasn’t too severe. He treated the wound and pronounced Ned capable of being taken back to the inn in Turnham; he promised to look in on him there.
Once a coach had been dispatched to return the Plumtrees to Turnham so they could pack up and leave for Rochester, Gran announced that it was well past time for dinner.
As they all settled around the table, Jarret glanced over at Minerva. “How did you and Giles even know that Desmond and Ned were here? Or where to find them?”
Minerva launched into an explanation, but when she got to the part about Ned holding a knife on her, Stoneville scowled. “You shouldn’t have let her come with you, Masters.”
“Have any of you ever successfully said no to Minerva?” Giles drawled.
Though a profound silence was his answer, he had to agree with his brother-in-law. He’d never been so terrified in all his life as when he’d seen her come through the woods in Ned’s power.
“I only agreed to let her come when she threatened to follow me,” Giles went on. “Besides, she promised to do as I ordered. Sadly, I believed her.”
“I did do as you ordered!” Minerva protested. “I was just mounting the horse to leave when Ned surprised me.”
“I don’t know, Masters,” Jarret said, “seems to me that you may not be the man for Minerva after all. She’s a lot for any man to handle, and if you can’t keep her safe . . .”
Despite knowing that Jarret was joking, Giles bristled. “I’d like to see how well you handle the woman you love when she
insists upon—”
“Giles!” Minerva cried.
“What?” he snapped. He glanced at her to find her gazing at him with a sweet softness in her eyes, and it dawned on him what he’d just said. The woman you love.
Well, of course he loved her. He’d known that the moment he’d seen Ned with the knife to her throat. How could he not? She was his other half. The woman who could follow him into danger and still keep her wits about her, who could shock him by proposing an outrageous sexual encounter, and warm his heart with her generosity to a cousin who didn’t deserve it.
Yes, loving her was risky as hell. But since he’d spent the last nine years taking risks for Ravenswood, perhaps it was time to take one big risk for himself.
He looked over to see Oliver watching him with an eyebrow raised. “And another one falls,” Oliver said softly. “She’s got you now, man.”
Giles smiled at Minerva, putting all the love he felt for her into his gaze. “Yes, I believe she does.”
When she beamed at him, he let the warmth of it steal into his heart and heat the parts that he’d hidden away from the sun for so long.
“Well, all I can say is thank God Giles managed to hit something for once with that pistol of his,” Gabe said. “Didn’t know you had it in you, old chap. You’ve never been that good with firearms.”
“He’s better than you think, Gabe,” Minerva said hotly as she served herself some trout. “He’s just been trying not to show you three up all these years, so you’d agree to let him court me.”
As her brothers laughed, she met Giles’s bemused gaze with a smile that showed she understood how hard it had been for him, pretending to be incompetent, playing the fool, never seeming to care. And now he wondered why he’d taken so long to let her see the real him. There was something incredibly satisfying about being recognized for who he truly was by the person who had his heart.
He didn’t want to give that up. He wouldn’t give it up. To hell with Newmarsh. It was time he had his own life, even if he lived it in a garret. As long as he had Minerva, that was all he needed. Today had shown him that life was too short not to take personal risks once in a while. The kind that meant putting one’s faith in the people one trusted and loved.
Much later, he and Minerva left beneath a bright moon, having refused everyone’s urging that they stay at Halstead Hall for the night. He wanted to be at home in his own bed, making love to his wife.
As they set off down the drive, Minerva glanced over at him. “Did you mean it?”
He didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. “Do you think I’d lie about something like that in front of your brothers?” he countered.
“Giles! I want an answer, not another question.”
“Of course I meant it. I love you, Minerva. I love that you believe in me no matter what. I love how you take whatever you see and distill it into your books. I love your clever mind and your generous heart and every inch of your beautiful body. I love you even when you give me heart failure by risking your life before my very eyes.” He smiled tenderly. “I only hope that in time I can prove worthy of your love.”
“You saved my life. That already qualifies you as ‘worthy’ of my love.”
He remained silent a long moment, thinking through what to say. “Minerva, I’ve decided that if Ravenswood’s superiors refuse to give in to Newmarsh’s demand, I’ll abide by their decision and take my lumps, whatever they might be. No more spying for me.”
“Good,” she said stoutly, to his surprise.
“You do realize that I’m risking the possibility of losing everything by doing so.”
“You risk losing everything by not doing so,” she pointed out. “Because if you keep on having a secret other life, you give no one the chance to really know your true character. I think that would be very lonely, don’t you?”
“I think I have a very wise wife,” he answered with a smile.
“Well, of course. Isn’t that why you married me?”
“No. I married you because you looked so fetching in your wet shift that day at the pond that I momentarily lost my mind.”
She laughed, then cast him a sly glance. “You know, that pond isn’t terribly far away. What do you say to having a swim in the moonlight?”
His blood ran high at the thought. “Naked?”
“Why, Mr. Masters, what a wicked and perfectly delicious idea.”
He glanced at the dark woods, then grinned. “I’ll race you there.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Minerva and Giles waited for Lord Ravenswood inside the Hyde Park boathouse a week after their confrontation with Desmond and Ned. She was nervous, but apparently he was not.
Giles was full of surprises like that. Though he couldn’t tell her much of what he’d done for the Home Office, he’d been able to tell her some of how he’d done it, and his ingenuity and sheer brashness never ceased to amaze her. Not to mention, entertain her. Indeed, their shared knowledge of that part of his life had become their private joke. Whenever someone asked her how it felt to be married to such a notorious scoundrel, she told the truth—it felt marvelous. The way he’d announced his love for her in front of her whole family still warmed her heart.
She was rapidly discovering that the only place her husband was really a scoundrel was in the bedchamber. He worked hard at being a barrister. He kept meticulous records and read huge tomes with titles like A Complete Collection of State Trials and Proceedings for High Treason and Other Crimes and Misdemeanors from the Earliest Period to the Year 1783 that came in twenty-one-volume sets. He spent long hours poring over precedents and evidence. That was fine with her, since she needed those hours to write.
But occasionally, she thought him a bit too diligent. This meeting was clear evidence of that. He’d driven her mad with all his preparations to make sure they weren’t followed. No doubt he was still chafing over the fact that Pinter had shadowed him twice without his knowing.
“Giles?” she asked, when the silence became unbearable.
“Yes, love?”
“You really have no idea why Lord Ravenswood wants this meeting?”
“None. Last week, when he met me to tell me what his superiors had decided, he gave no indication that he’d want to meet again.”
“And you’re sure he said they wouldn’t do as Newmarsh asked?”
“Yes.”
“But there hasn’t been even a whisper in the papers about you. Is it possible they changed their minds?”
“No. They probably just haven’t told Newmarsh yet.”
She sighed. “Right. I suppose the mails to France aren’t swift.” She gazed at his dear face. “You know, if you really want to keep on working for Lord Ravenswood, I’ll understand.”
He fixed her with a piercing glance. “So you’d be fine with my spending nights at the gaming tables, dandling taproom maids on my knee, and pretending to spend huge sums of money all over town, so I can coax some suspicious character into spilling his secrets.”
“Well, no, but I don’t want to see you suffer in the papers, either. Or be disbarred. I know how you love the law.”
“Do you know what I love?” he said, taking her hands in his. “You. And our life together. I won’t trade that for anything.” He chucked her under the chin. “And didn’t you say it was time I trust someone other than myself? That’s what I’m doing—trusting Ravenswood. Just be aware that it might be something of a bumpy ride.”
“I knew I was in for a bumpy ride the day I married you,” she told him.
He kissed her, and that’s how Lord Ravenswood found them when he entered.
She pulled away from her husband, blushing furiously. Lord Ravenswood looked equally discomfited. She wondered if Giles had even told the undersecretary she was coming to their meeting.
“You remember my wife, Minerva, don’t you, Ravenswood?” Giles said, calm as ever, while his lordship continued to stare at her in surprise.
The viscount smoothed his fe
atures into solemnity. “Of course.” He bowed slightly. “How are you this morning, Mrs. Masters?”
“Anxious about my husband’s future,” she said, slipping her hand into the crook of Giles’s elbow. “I do hope you and your superiors have considered how hard he’s worked through the years and what he’s gone through.”
“So you decided to tell her about all that, did you?” Lord Ravenswood said to Giles.
“Only in the briefest terms.”
“He’s very discreet,” she put in. “It took him years to tell me about Lord Newmarsh, even though I saw Giles take his papers.”
That so startled Lord Ravenswood that she glanced at Giles, worried even though they’d agreed beforehand to her revealing it. Giles patted her hand reassuringly.
“So you are Rockton!” Lord Ravenswood exclaimed.
Giles winced. “Don’t remind me.”
“Oh no!” Minerva cried. “You guessed?”
“Only because I knew the details of the theft,” Lord Ravenswood said. “But if I were you, Mrs. Masters, I’d reconsider using your husband’s past as fodder for your fiction.”
“Duly noted, sir,” she said, a little mortified that he’d caught on to her game. She would have much preferred that Rockton remain a private joke between her and Giles.
“Well then, I won’t keep you in suspense,” Lord Ravenswood said. “I thought you’d like to know that you needn’t worry about Newmarsh anymore.”
Giles’s arm tensed beneath her hand. “Oh?”
“I paid him a visit in France. I pointed out that if he exposed everything concerning him and Sully, then he would force the government’s hand and we would have to revoke his pardon. I offered instead to allow him to come to the Isle of Man.”
“The Isle of Man?” Minerva asked.
Giles’s face lit up. “Technically, it’s not British. It’s an English Dependency, not the same thing. He wouldn’t be returning to England. He’d still be fulfilling the terms of his pardon, and the government would not be giving in to blackmail.”
“His mother lives outside Liverpool,” Lord Ravenswood continued, “which is a short steam packet ride from the Isle of Man. He agreed that she would be able to manage that trip despite her age. I told him it was the closest he’d get to being home, and I pointed out that pursuing a vendetta against you would devastate his mother, perhaps even hasten her death. That all he would accomplish was to vent his spleen.” Lord Ravenswood smiled. “He saw the wisdom of that advice, and agreed to my offer.”
How to Woo a Reluctant Lady Page 30