by Sara Bennett
He groaned, then instantly froze, glancing around the landing. This was madness! He must stop it immediately, or the next time he met up with Hal he wasn’t going to survive the encounter.
The oil lamp on the hall table flickered in the draft, as he made his way down the stairs. He turned left. He’d made a quick survey of the layout of the house before he went to bed, and now he moved without hesitation to the back door and reached to draw the bolt.
His hand stilled. The bolt was already drawn. For a moment surprise paralyzed him, and then he gave a soft, relieved laugh. He was deep in the countryside here, where doors were rarely locked. After all, Sebastian mocked himself, who would be foolish enough to be abroad at this time of night? He cracked open the heavy door and slipped through, closing it noiselessly behind him.
Outside the wind had dropped and the rain had ceased, the storm having given way to a cold, clear night. He looked up, and acres of stars shone down on him. He should be able to see well enough to traverse the moors without blundering into any more mires. If he could borrow a horse from the stables—grooms, he had found, were always open to a bit of bribery—then he could ride to the village and see Hal.
Sebastian made his way toward the stables, taking a circuitous route via the lawn so that his boots didn’t crunch on the gravel path. Ahead of him the buildings appeared dark and deserted, and he was thinking that perhaps he wouldn’t need to bribe anyone after all, when he felt a prickling at his back.
Someone was watching him.
Sebastian turned slowly, already plastering a false smile on his face as he ran through possible excuses for being out here so late.
Francesca Greentree stood a little way off, her curling hair like a dark halo in the starlight, and her eyes pools of shadow.
“Mr. Thorne?” she said, as startled as he. “Whatever are you doing?”
He strolled toward her—her voice had been loud and he didn’t want to wake anyone. “What am I doing? I might ask the same of you, Francesca. It is past midnight. I thought countryfolk went to bed with the sun.”
She’d been watching him approach, as if she might turn and run, but his words fired up her temper, as he knew they would. “Some of us countryfolk have the stamina to stay up beyond dusk,” she said drolly. “I was checking on Wolf and his family.” Her voice softened. “He and his mate have four puppies.”
He couldn’t help but smile at the doting way she said it. “You love that dog, don’t you?”
“More than most people.”
“Why is that, do you think?”
“Because he’s loyal and he will never leave me.”
In the silence that followed, he sensed she had disconcerted herself. “Is that what you demand from a lover, too, Francesca? Loyalty and staying power?”
She looked away, hesitated, and then said candidly, “I’ve never had a lover. And before you offer to step into the breach, I don’t want one. I have resigned myself to a life alone. No, not resigned. I look forward to it. Believe me, Mr. Thorne, I have seen too much unhappiness to allow myself to sail into those dangerous waters.”
“In case there’s a shark?” he mocked.
“Exactly.”
“And I am the shark, is that it? You would prefer to die miserable than experience all that life can give you, just in case you get hurt?”
“You make it sound as if being hurt by a man is a small thing,” she said angrily. “For a woman it is the end of her. Unhappiness, misery, abandonment. I know what ‘love’ does, and I do not want any part of it.” She drew a deep breath. “Now, I will ask you again, what are you doing here, Mr. Thorne?”
He considered her. “I have unfinished business in the village. I need to complete it as soon as possible.”
She was horrified. “You’re planning to go to the village now? You are not fit!”
“I’m fit enough and this cannot wait. I wonder if I might ask you for the loan of one of your horses, Miss Greentree, if I promise to bring it back when I am done?”
She shook her head, her eyes still on his.
“I am determined to go,” he said, quite gently, “and I am arrogant enough to think you cannot stop me.”
“You intend to ride across the moors? After what happened?”
He waved an impatient hand. “Isn’t there a road around it?”
“Yes, but it will take you many more hours.”
“Ah…then I will just have to risk it. Unless you can find me a guide, Francesca?” And he smiled.
She read his mind. “No,” she breathed.
He peered at her, sensing a tangle of emotions in her stillness. She didn’t want him to go alone. She was concerned for him. But he thought it was more than that: He was heading off on an adventure and she wanted to come, too.
“Will you guide me?” he asked abruptly, to test his theory.
“No!” she gasped, but the violence of her refusal only gave him more hope.
“Why not? It will be fun, Francesca. An adventure. You like adventures, don’t you? You enjoy creating fantasies. I can’t give you an escaped tiger, but I can give you a midnight gallop across the moors.”
“I’m not wearing my riding habit.” But she sounded as if she’d already given in.
He folded his arms and inspected her green dress. “Is it anything like what you’re wearing now?”
Her mouth curled up at the corners. “Are you insulting my taste in clothing, Mr. Thorne?” Then her smile faded. “You knew why I was dressed like this, didn’t you? How did you know?”
“Because I understand, Francesca. I understand you.”
I know you are living your life as something you are not, just like me.
She stared beyond him, toward the stables. “You’re a dangerous man, Mr. Thorne. I shouldn’t be here with you. You will be leaving tomorrow, won’t you?” with a searching look. “Do you promise?”
“I promise. So you can’t refuse my offer for an adventure. This is your one and only chance. After tonight you can return to being the respectable Miss Francesca Greentree—I do like that name!—if you still want to.”
Sebastian knew, for so many reasons, that he shouldn’t be encouraging her to come with him. But that didn’t stop him, any more than her own doubts were going to stop her. It was a moment when the usual considerations didn’t count.
“Very well.”
He grinned. “It could be dangerous.”
She smiled back. Damn and blast it, she smiled, and he saw the wildness in her. The caged passion. “Dastardly deeds, Mr. Thorne?”
He took a step nearer and she tilted her head, her eyes glinting in the starlight. “I call it dancing with the devil,” he said quietly.
There was a moment when he thought she might change her mind, turn and run, but then she said recklessly, “I always excelled at dancing. Perhaps I can show the devil some new steps?”
They galloped across the moor. Francesca rode astride, like a man. She thought she might have shocked him when she swung herself into the saddle, although her skirts preserved her modesty, but he laughed. He was the only man she knew who would laugh at such a moment.
How could he know that she often rode at night, alone? Even Mama didn’t, and if she did she’d give Francesca one of her despairing looks—“Francesca, for goodness’ sake, you should know better!” And she did know better; it was just that sometimes she couldn’t help herself. Something inside her needed to break free, so that she could feel alive. She thought of it secretly as her mother’s inheritance. The blood of Aphrodite running in her veins. Surely it was far better to ride about in the dark with the wind in her hair than to go from lover to lover?
“Who is it you wish to see?” she asked him, as they approached the dale where the village was set.
He peered down into the valley at the dark shapes of cottages and the white daubs of sheep on the hillsides, and said, “I can find my own way from here.”
Disappointment gripped her. “Is the adventure over then?” she asked,
breathless, anxious. She didn’t want it to be over.
“The danger increases from here, Francesca.” His voice was serious.
“Good,” she said. “What’s an adventure without danger? Where are we going?”
He seemed to be considering her request. “We’re going to the blacksmithy,” he said finally.
“Hal?” She was surprised. “Is it Hal you want to see?”
“Francesca, please don’t ask questions.”
But she wasn’t a servant, to be told when to be quiet. She was Francesca Greentree, and she had been brought up to speak her mind. “It’s a strange sort of business that brings you out in the middle of the night to visit the village blacksmith. Is it legal business, or are you a smuggler? The tax on tobacco is very high, and I have heard that there are men who seek to profit from contraband. Are you one of them?”
“Ah, you have me there,” he said, sounding like an actor in a bad play.
“Rubbish,” she retorted. “I don’t believe it. What are you up to?”
He sighed. “No, I am not a smuggler, but that’s all I can say. Now, please, can we find Hal before dawn breaks? Do you want to be discovered?”
Without another word she led him down through the village. There was a lantern outside the inn, put there to guide late-night travelers. The blacksmithy was down a narrow lane. Small dark windows stared at them from the upper rooms.
“Hal lives over his shop,” she explained. “He’s probably asleep.”
“His son?”
“Jed left years ago. Why are you—”
“He has no wife or…or mother?”
“No one. He lives alone.” He was so serious, so intent, that she was beginning to get more and more anxious. “You’re not going to hurt Hal, are you? I can’t allow that,” she added firmly.
Sebastian dismounted, and when he looked up at her she couldn’t read his face very well in the shadows and the starlight, no matter how she tried. “Stay here and wait with the horses.”
Suddenly Francesca knew she shouldn’t have come. She didn’t trust him. This was a mistake, and she would live to regret it.
He hadn’t waited for her reply, and was making his way toward the dark bulk of the building. Soon Francesca lost sight of him. Above her head the stars wheeled in the dome of the sky. Such a beautiful night, a night made for the sort of adventure that wasn’t in a book. She told herself that she should be savoring every moment of it instead of worrying about what would happen next. Tomorrow he’d be gone and she’d never see him again.
She heard a cry.
Francesca froze, listening intently, but there was nothing more. Could it have been Sebastian? Was he hurt? She’d never thought of Hal as being a violent man, but perhaps she was mistaken.
Francesca urged her horse forward, hooves clipping on the cobbled lane, Sebastian’s mount following behind.
The upstairs windows had been dark a moment before, but now a low light flickered. She became aware of loud voices.
“But bugger me, you’re dead!” Hal yelped.
“And I’ve come back for my revenge!” declared Sebastian.
There was a thump, the sound of someone falling, and then nothing.
Chapter 7
Upstairs, Sebastian stood over Hal, breathing quickly and looking as menacing as possible. It wasn’t difficult. He’d come upon Hal, asleep, slumped in a chair. Just as he’d moved to shake him awake, Hal had lurched to his feet, swinging his fists and roaring like a bull. Sebastian had enjoyed stopping him. Now, with Hal subdued and a candle lit, he was looking for answers.
“Who told you and your son to deal with me?” he demanded.
Hal, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, muttered thickly, “You don’t understand—”
“How can I understand if you won’t tell me?”
“These’re dangerous people, Mr. Thorne.”
“Damn it, tell me your master’s name!” Sebastian shouted, losing patience.
“His name?”
There was a pause. “Do you mean it’s a woman?” Sebastian couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. “Mrs. Slater is your master, isn’t she? She’s the one who told you to make me disappear? Tell me I’m wrong, Hal!”
Hal looked away and said nothing.
“Is she here in the village? Where can I find her?”
Hal’s face looked pale and wretched in the gloomy light. “She’s not here. She’s in Lon’on, safely hid, and I can’t tell you where, so don’ ask. She’s my cousin, Mr. Thorne,” he went on, in genuine misery. “I didn’ want to leave you in t’mire, and that’s the truth, sir.”
“Then why did you, Hal?”
“She told us we was t’make it look like an accident.”
“By ‘us’ I presume you mean you and your son?”
“Aye.”
“Where is he now?”
“Jed’s gone back to Lon’on. He only come up here to give me orders from her…Angela. He followed you,” he added, with a hint of his old spark, “and you never even knew it. I thought you was a man with eyes in the back of his head, Mr. Thorne? He showed you, eh?”
“I’ll congratulate him when I see him,” Sebastian said, icily.
He tried to think, but his head was buzzing. Mrs. Slater—Angela Slater—was alive! And she was on his home turf, in London. That made it all so much easier. And perhaps it also explained why she had brought the children here to Yorkshire all those years ago—because she had family in this area and felt safe.
More worrying was the fact that Hal’s son had followed him here. How did Jed know that Sebastian was planning to come to Yorkshire? And more importantly, what he meant to do once he got here? Who had told Mrs. Slater that, after all these years, someone was looking for her? As far as Sebastian was concerned, only he and Aphrodite knew the details of his assignment. The first thing he’d do when he returned to London was visit her and ask her who else knew.
“I despise that woman,” Hal muttered, and Sebastian realized he meant his cousin. “Do you know she has houses where she brings girls, young girls, and sells them to men? She makes money from misery. I always warned Jed against being drawn into that world, I told him it were no good, but in the end it didn’ stop him. The thought of being rich lured him, like a fox to the lamb, and last year he left. I know’d he’d gone to work for Cousin Angela. Some days I still hope to persuade him to come home, sir. ’Twas for Jed’s sake I lied to you and took you to the mire. Whatever he’s become, he’s my son. He’s my flesh and blood.”
Sebastian sighed. He’d been so looking forward to a good bout of fisticuffs, but Hal was making it difficult to hate him unreservedly.
“Tell me where Jed is. Perhaps I can persuade him of the error of his ways.”
“And what’d Angela do to us if she found out I’d told?”
“Isn’t the risk worth it? Anyway, it’s not Jed I want, it’s her. I can stop her. I can have her arrested and jailed. Isn’t that what you want? You said you despised her and wanted to save your son? This way we both win.”
“She’ll know!” He looked terrified. “She’ll send her creatures after me.”
“Why should she? I’m not going to tell. But if you’re worried, then go away somewhere and keep your head down until it’s over.”
“You asked me before what happened to her husband,” Hal said, glancing over his shoulder as if he expected to see Angela Slater leering in the shadows. “He called himself her husband, at any rate, though no one remembered seeing a preacher say the words over them. Anyway, this was back when she was farming babes in Lon’on, years ago. Too many of t’bairns were dying, and there was nasty talk. Folk said she was letting the babes die, and keeping t’money she was paid for their upkeep for herself. Some even said it went further than neglect. Well, her husband, he gave her up to the magistrates to save his own skin. But she had friends—she has friends everywhere, Mr. Thorne, never forget that. The court let her off, and next thing her husband was dead,
dragged up out of the river, with his tongue cut out. Some folk said the fishes ate it out, but we knew it was her revenge on him, to show he’d blabbed.” He fixed Sebastian with staring eyes. “If she’d do that to her man, imagine what she’d do to us.”
“All the more reason why she needs to be stopped, Hal. You have to help me, or you’ll be frightened of shadows for the rest of your life. Do you want that? I don’t think you’re a bad man, Hal. I think you’re loyal to your son, and that loyalty has forced you into an intolerable position. But that doesn’t change the fact that you tried to murder me. I could go to the constable now and have you arrested. You’d hang for it, or else see out your days at Botany Bay.”
“I didn’t want to trick you into t’mire,” Hal said sullenly. “I told you—”
“Then prove it. Save yourself. Save Jed.”
Hal slumped in his chair, accepting that Sebastian was right, and that there was no other way.
“She has a house in Mallory Street. That’s the one Jed’s in charge of, or so he boasted to me. Turned my stomach, it did.” He took a deep breath. “Number forty-four Mallory Street. There are other places, but that’s the only one I know about.”
“Thank you, Hal. You’ve done the right thing. I’ll keep Jed out of it if I can.” Excitement rippled through him. He had an address, a starting point!
Hal was watching him anxiously. “What’re you going to do now?”
“Better you don’t know.”
“I hope you know what you’re getting into,” Hal said. “Angela’s a murderous bitch, Mr. Thorne, the sort would kill anyone to save her own skin. You need to find her and deal with her, before she deals with you.”
“Don’t worry, I can handle her.”
“Can you?” He shook his head.
Sebastian got to his feet. “One last thing, Hal. How did Jed know that I was coming up here? Who told him?”
Hal shook his head. “Jed doesn’t mention any names. I don’t reckon he trusts me. If someone is telling secrets, you’d better look to your friends and acquaintances, Mr. Thorne. Angela has spies everywhere…and they’ll be more afraid of her than of you.”