by Julia London
She glanced at his hand, then lifted her gaze to his, flinching openly at what she saw there.
“I beg yer pardon, Miss Farnsworth. I did indeed think we had forged a fast friendship. Could I have been mistaken, then?”
“No!” she said sharply, her gaze slanting to Lady Peasedown for a fraction of a moment before returning to Liam.
Oh, aye, he had her now—just as he had anticipated, she would not give herself away, nor would she give him any opening to accuse her. He arched an amused brow and smiled wolfishly. “Then, might I hope that—”
“Yes, yes, of course we are friends, Captain Lockhart,” she said, almost irritably, surprising him. “I am simply surprised to see you, naturally.”
“Naturally,” he drawled. “I canna begin to say how happy I am to make yer acquaintance again,” he said, bowing over her hand, letting his lips linger there for a moment.
Ellie snatched her hand back, stole a glance at the Peasedowns, who, standing side by side, wore identical, ridiculously proud grins. “I beg your pardon, sir…it’s just that…well, after our last parting, I really thought I’d not see you again.”
“Did ye no’ indeed? I had rather counted on it.”
Ellie’s eyes narrowed a bit; she forced a smile, stepped around him and moved to the hearth, fanning herself. “It’s quite warm, isn’t it?”
“Are you warm, dear? Richard, she’s warm,” Lady Peasedown said as she perched herself carefully on a loveseat and arranged her skirts to their most attractive vantage. “Do sit, Captain, and please, tell us all about how you came to meet our Ellen.”
“Oh, Judith!” Ellie instantly interjected with a nervous laugh. “What a perfectly boring subject!”
“Ah, quite the contrary—nothing would please me more, Lady Peasedown,” Liam said, and flipping his coat, he sat directly across from his hostess. He flashed an indolent grin at Ellie. “Where do ye suggest I begin, then?” he asked, rejoicing in the expression of pure, unmitigated terror that passed over her lovely face. “’Tis really rather amusing, is it no’, Miss Farnsworth? We were introduced by Natalie—”
“Inadvertently, really,” Ellie quickly interjected. “In the, ah, square. Quite by accident.”
“Accident?” Liam asked, feigning confusion. “Why, Miss Farnsworth! Yer modesty is no’ becoming! Ye did indeed conspire to do it!” he said with a laugh of great amusement.
Her pretty eyes widened with shock, then narrowed menacingly. “I beg your pardon, Captain Lockhart, but I did not conspire to do any such thing!”
“Ach, it hardly matters,” he said flippantly, turning his attention to Lady Peasedown. “We met by chance in the square, but our next encounter was a cozy supper party—”
“Oh!” Ellie interrupted with a loud bark of laughter. “Captain Farnsworth, what a way with words you have!”
“How so?”
“Why, you make it sound so intimate, when there were at least a dozen others present!”
“Were there? I donna seem to recall more than one or two at most. But then again, I was quite occupied with one guest in particular,” he said, smiling at her.
“How very sweet!” Lady Peasedown swooned. “Who was your host?”
“Host?” Ellie echoed, her eyes all but bulging from their sockets.
“Lady Mackenzie. Are ye acquainted with her?”
“No,” Lady Peasedown said, her face scrunching with careful thought. “I’m certain I am not.”
Of course not—Lady MacKenzie never left the Highlands, on top of which, she had died last year. “A Scot, of course.”
“Ah,” Lady Peasedown said, nodding, turning a frown to Ellie. “You never mentioned it, Ellen!” she exclaimed.
“Didn’t I?” She laughed nervously, fidgeted with her hair. “It really wasn’t so very special as all that,” she said, folding her arms beneath her bosom. “I rather suppose I forgot all about it, really,” she added, and turned away from his pointed gaze.
“How sad that is for us both, Miss Farnsworth, for I willna forget it all me life.”
Ellie colored; Lady Peasedown smiled happily. “How very happy we are to have you here, Captain Lockhart! You simply must stay for supper and tell us more! I confess, Ellen’s been rather sparing with her letters, and it would be a lovely treat to hear all about London and Ellen.”
“Judith, I—”
“Ye are too kind, Lady Peasedown. I’d be terribly delighted, I would,” Liam said, cutting off the little traitor before she could squirm out of supper and all that he had planned for her.
“Splendid!” said Lord Peasedown, beaming proudly at Lady Peasedown. “I just knew this would be frightfully fun!”
“I’ll just pop in and tell Cook we’ve one more,” Lady Peasedown said. “Richard? Shall we have a look at the wines and choose a special one for our guest?”
“Marvelous idea!”
The two Peasedowns stood and smiled at Liam and Ellie. “Mind you keep him suitably occupied until we return, Ellen,” Lady Peasedown said in motherly fashion, and taking her husband’s arm, she turned her smile to Liam. “What a positively wonderful stroke of coincidence, sir!”
“Aye…I couldna have asked for a greater opportunity had I been looking the good Lord in the eye!” Liam exclaimed as he followed them to the door.
“We’ll return shortly!” Lady Peasedown all but sang, and walked out the door on her husband’s arm.
Liam smiled coldly at their backs, shut the door politely behind them, then whirled, racing for the door at the opposite end of the room and reaching it just before Ellie, throwing his back against it and thereby effectively closing off her escape.
Twenty-four
She was going to die, right there in the main salon, either by his hand or the sudden failure of her own, wildly beating heart.
With nothing but a divan between them to protect her, she stared, mortified, trying to comprehend how he could come to be here, in this house, at this moment. Of all the things she had imagined and feared, she had never believed he could find her here or could have trumped her so completely and unexpectedly. Her mind raced around how he might have tracked her, and more astounding, how he could have possibly made Richard’s acquaintance.
“Be still,” he said gruffly, “or ye’ll only make it worse, although it’s right hard to fathom how much worse ye could possibly make it.”
Fear gripped her. “Have you lost your mind?” she demanded insanely, inching her way down the back of the divan, away from him.
“Have I?” he answered incredulously, then threw back his head and laughed so bitterly that her fear soared uncontrollably. She darted from behind the divan to the loveseat Judith had vacated, but Liam was too strong and too quick; he was there at the same moment, lashing out with his arm, trying to grab her.
“Dear God, Liam, what do you think you are doing here?” she blurted in a panic as she reared back, avoiding his grasp. “This isn’t a battlefield! You can’t come in here and claim me like some spoil!”
“Ah, Ellie,” he said, moving carefully on the other side of the loveseat, smoothly matching every move she made, “did ye honestly think ye’d escape me?”
The question made her suddenly and irrationally furious with him for having found her, because honestly, she had thought she’d escaped him. “How did you find me?” she demanded hotly.
Liam merely chuckled as he leaned over and gripped the back of the loveseat. “Do ye think ye are as clever as all that? Ye had nowhere to go now, did ye, lass? And who’s been delivering the post to ye day after day?”
Follifoot! He had betrayed her—
Liam suddenly moved the loveseat a few inches; with a shriek, Ellen whirled and ran blindly to the opposite end of the room, granted a reprieve only by the heaviness of the loveseat that still blocked Liam’s way. With a growl, he pushed it aside and started toward her—but the door suddenly opened, and both of them froze, mid-stride.
Filbert stepped in, looked curiously at her, then Liam. “
Miss Farnsworth?”
“Yes, Filbert?” she asked, an absurd smile pasted on her face in spite of the breathlessness in her voice.
“Is…is everything in order?”
“Well of course!” she said gaily. “I was just about to show Captain Lockhart the, ah…the lovely, ah…” She blinked, trying to focus on the things in front of her.
“Vase,” Liam politely provided for her. “Quite a lovely piece of art, is it no’?”
“Oh, indeed,” she said, smoothing her hair, chuckling a little hysterically. “I believe Judith said it was fifteenth century.”
“Ah. Good century, that,” Liam said, watching her closely while at the same time they both watched Filbert.
Filbert continued on to the sideboard, examined the various bottles there. Satisfied that all was in order, he turned, seemed startled that they were staring at him. “Is there anything you require, madam?”
Yes! A gun. A rope. A dagger or heavy candlestick would do! “Ah…no. No thank you, Filbert. I think we are quite comfortable.” She glanced over her shoulder to see exactly where Liam had gone and was startled by his nearness; he had moved furtively and silently to stand directly behind her. “Are you comfortable, sir?” she asked, frowning, taking one step, then another, away from him.
“Quite,” he said, his dark green gaze ferocious in its intensity.
Filbert nodded and began walking toward the door.
“Filbert, wait!” Ellen cried, and instantly darted to his side. “Umm, there is one thing,” she said, stealing a glance over her shoulder at Liam. “The tea biscuits Judith likes so very well? Perhaps we might have a few. You could bring them straightaway, could you not? No, no, wait…I’ll fetch them. You’ve enough to do—”
“I beg your pardon, miss,” Filbert said, looked past Ellen and nodded at the plate of tea biscuits on the sideboard.
“Stale!” Ellen cried, smiling deliriously at the butler’s slightly perturbed expression.
Nonplussed, Filbert said, “I shall bring some—”
“I’ll go!”
“Pardon, Miss Farnsworth,” he said sternly, “but I shall bring fresh biscuits straightaway.” He bowed, glanced at Liam again, then stepped out the door.
The instant the door swung to, Ellen was running again, this time to the hearth, where she grabbed up the iron poker and whirled around, brandishing it like a sword.
Right behind her, Liam laughed as if he were playing a child’s game. Laughed so hard, actually, that it was a wonder he didn’t topple right over on his bum. That infuriated her.
“Mi Diah! Ellie, ye canna escape me again—ye know it! Come now, I’ll make it easier on us both. Just hand over the bloody beastie, and I’ll let ye be, I will.”
She could tell by the glint in his eye that she would not be so easily dismissed. “Liar! You must take me for a great fool, Liam! Do you think I believe that if I give you the beastie, you’ll just quietly step into the night and go away?”
“No’ without me supper, no,” he said, grinning wickedly.
“You don’t intend to dine with us!” she said harshly.
“What, mo ghraid, are ye fearful I’ll give ye away? Tell yer friends that their illustrious guest is, in reality, a conniving little thief?”
Actually, that was precisely what she feared.
“Oh, no—I’ll stay for supper, I will. And after that delightful repast, I’ll have the beastie.”
“That’s all?” she asked incredulously. “That’s all you want?”
“Ah, leannan is it no’ as plain as the nose on yer face? I want the goddamn beastie, naturally. But I also want yer pretty arse on one of these fancy platters.”
Ellen gasped; Liam started forward, and she raised the poker, prepared to strike.
“Suithad!” he growled.
Whatever that might have meant, Ellen raised the poker higher—then instantly dropped it at the sound of the door opening on the far end of the room.
Liam straightened casually, his burning gaze still on her.
“What are you two doing?” Judith trilled from the other end of the room.
“Stirring the fire!” Ellen said on a nervous laugh. “It’s rather cold.”
“Oh…I thought you said you were warm, dear!”
“Did you?” Ellen asked cheerfully, thrusting the poker at Liam as she started toward Judith.
Liam chuckled beneath his breath and moved to the hearth to stir the coals as Ellen sailed around him, to Judith’s side, and quickly linked her arm through her friend’s. Judith smiled, patted her hand, and whispered, “Your color is quite high.”
Fabulous. And she was about to be quite ill, thank you.
Richard, following Judith, was all smiles himself. “What marvelous coincidence, Captain Lockhart! Cook informs me we are having excellent Scotch beef this evening, roasted to perfection.”
“Ah, but the good fortune is all mine, sir. New friends, a dear acquaintance, and an excellent meal. The angels are smiling on me, to be sure,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back and looking like some soft country gentleman.
Ellen rolled her eyes.
“And might I add that I look forward to our supper, for Miss Farnsworth has always been an excellent conversationalist,” he said.
“Oh yes, she is indeed,” Judith eagerly agreed.
“Very clever, too. And quite witty with her words.”
Judith laughed, and as Liam turned away to hear something Richard was saying, she squeezed Ellen’s hand. “You are so very fortunate, darling, to have such a brave and agreeable gentleman so very smitten with you, and it’s quite obvious that he is. Oh, this is very exciting!” she whispered, and shivered, as if the whole notion of a love match gave her goose bumps.
Ellen forced a smile and extracted her hand from Judith’s grip. “Exciting,” she muttered, “hardly begins to describe it.”
Supper, much to Liam’s added delight, was actually delectable, owing chiefly to the most excellent Scotch beef Peasedown had managed to purchase. Equally delectable was Ellie, who acted as if she were sitting on a pin cushion throughout the course of the meal. When she wasn’t squirming in her seat or feigning interest in something one of the Peasedowns said, she was staring daggers at him.
And looking quite beautiful as she did so.
Nevertheless, her haughty attitude was beyond comprehension. Obviously, in the land of Laria, or wherever her little head was residing, it was perfectly natural for her to go around binding people up and stealing their belongings, but appalling for him to come and take his belongings back. The longer the supper wore on (and it wore on quite long, no thanks to Peasedown, who was, apparently, quite fond of telling long, twisted tales about absolutely nothing), the more incensed Liam became. She had her nerve, this mad, barmy little English chit, to treat him as if he were some kind of thief! In fact, he was so incensed by the time the last course of plum cake was served that he inserted himself into the middle of Lady Peasedown’s discourse about a silly little problem the parish was having with missing hens.
“Hens,” Ellie repeated, as if she hadn’t heard Lady Peasedown clearly, her long fingers fidgeting with the stem of her crystal wineglass.
“Hens! Quite shocking, isn’t it? It’s rather well established, really—hens from as far away as the parish church all the way down to the river on the other side of King’s Lynn have all up and disappeared! Who would do such a vile thing, do you suppose?”
“Mrs. Radley,” Lord Peasedown said instantly, flicking something from the tablecloth. “I saw her in town not two days past carrying about a basket of eggs for the church wards.”
“Oh, Richard!” Judith exclaimed with much exasperation. “Mrs. Radley is quite ancient, and she’s been known for her prized hens for years now. You can be sure to find her every Thursday morning delivering eggs to the needy! I rather suppose she has all her hens under lock and key!”
“She might be ancient, darling, but I think it rather odd that she is the only one in
the entire shire who hasn’t lost a hen!”
“Well, if it is Mrs. Radley,” Judith argued, “then her age must be taken into account. Elderly people can be rather batty, you know, all at sixes and sevens, not knowing quite who they are or what they are about,” she added with an authoritative sniff, leaning to one side so the footman could remove her plate.
“If indeed the work of a demented old woman,” Liam interjected amicably, looking at Ellie, “would ye dismiss her actions altogether, then?”
“Of course not!” Judith said instantly. “Thievery of any kind is insupportable.”
“But what if ye had a dear demented friend do the same—”
“Which I would not, for my friends are neither thieves nor demented,” Judith quickly assured him.
“As far as ye know. But say one was to fall on a wee bit of bad luck and were to take something that didn’t belong to her—or him—and just the one time, mind ye. Would ye still condemn her—er, him?”
“Certainly! As I said, thievery of any kind is insupportable,” she said emphatically.
“But Judith, surely you remember the tale of Robin Hood,” Ellie interjected, her blue eyes twinkling like ice as she glared at Liam. “What if this supposed friend stole from the rich to give to the poor? Is that not commendable on some level?”
“Oh…well, I’m not certain what I would make of that, if something were taken for a good cause…”
“Judith, darling, please do not leave our guests with the impression that it is quite to your liking to have someone steal from us to give to the less fortunate. If there are those among us who go lacking, I, for one, should like to give charitably rather than have it taken from me without my consent.”
“Oh yes, dear,” Judith hastily agreed. “I should certainly and earnestly agree with that.”
“So there is no circumstance, then, that you might see it is the right thing to do?” Ellie tried again. “Or perhaps less reprehensible?”
“Are there degrees of reprehension, Miss Farnsworth?” Liam asked.
“Apparently!”