by Laura Landon
Leaves rustled to his left and Ross followed the sound. He tried to imagine where the intruder had come from, especially at this hour. The only building near here was the cottage he’d passed not too far back. And, of course, the orphanage.
Ross stepped further behind the tree and waited. He’d been a fool to leave St. Stephen’s without a weapon to defend himself and swore he’d remember next time.
He took another breath, then caught it when he heard the sharp snap of a twig close by. The muffled sounds indicated that the midnight traveler was close. All he needed was a glimpse and if the prowler was one of the smugglers, hopefully he’d recognize him and have another part of the puzzle to piece together.
The intruder was almost on top of him and Ross pressed further into the shadows. The first things he saw were small, booted feet—too small to be a man’s. Then, he saw as well as heard the hushed swish of skirts swirling the leaves. He tried to get a glimpse of the woman’s face but a dark, hooded cloak covered all but a few wisps of the stranger’s light hair. He stepped out to block her escape.
“It’s a little late for a stroll, isn’t it?”
The moonlit shadows exposed no more than her outline, but Ross took great satisfaction in watching her hand fly to her mouth and hearing her startled squeal of fright.
Before she could recover, he stepped even closer. From the corner of his eye, he saw her gather handfuls of her skirt in her fists and knew her instinct was to run. He clamped his fingers around her upper arms and pinned her firmly against the tree.
“Are you often in the habit of running through the woods at three o’clock in the morning?” he asked softly.
Ross could feel her tremble beneath him, and even though he had no intention of hurting her, he knew this was an excellent opportunity to get information. Perhaps even about the smugglers. Who better than from one of the locals?
“Release me. This instant.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, bracketing her legs with his. It was impossible for her to escape now. His entire body was mere inches from hers, and he could tell from the way she pulled herself away from him, she had no intention of leaning forward even a fraction.
“I think I’d like to know what you’re doing out here all alone.”
She turned her face away from him as a denial to his request and Ross placed his finger to the side of her narrow jaw to bring her back. In one swift movement, he turned her face forward, then brought his hand upward to push aside the hood of her cloak.
The clouds took that moment to slide away from the full moon, illumining the spot where they stood. Brilliant streams of moonlight floated around the girl, surrounding her in an ethereal halo. Her hair glowed like shimmering gold, and wide, expressive eyes stared back at him from her heart-shaped face. She had high cheekbones, a pert little nose, and full lips she pressed tightly together. There was something very intriguing in her features, not beautiful exactly, but attractive nonetheless. And for some unexplainable reason, he didn’t want to step away from her.
It wasn’t light enough to tell the color of her eyes but he didn’t need a light. He remembered from when he’d seen her before. And it was bright enough to see an emergence of the same anger he’d witnessed three days ago when he met her at the orphanage.
“Well, Miss Foley. What a surprise.”
…
Josie lifted her chin and forced herself to put on a brave front. “Stand aside, Lord Rainforth. I’d like to pass.”
“Not until you tell me what you are doing out here all by yourself.”
Josie wasn’t about to tell him she’d been sitting with his son because he’d had another nightmare. She’d promised little Charlie she’d stay with him until he fell asleep and she’d held him until he’d fallen asleep a little while ago.
“I was taking a walk.”
Josie couldn’t tell for sure but she swore he was smiling at her.
Her first thought was that she must be mistaken. From the little she’d been around him, she doubted Lord Rainforth knew how to smile. But here he was, staring down at her with a condescending grin on his face.
Although she was usually quite adept at controlling her anger, she felt her temper raise another notch. And her fear, although she’d never let him see it. When he spoke, his voice wrapped around her like filigree netting, holding her, confining her.
“This far from home?”
“It’s not so very far from Clythebrook. It’s only—”
“You’re on St. Stephen’s property.”
Josie often cut through the woods when she left by Sacred Heart’s south gate. It was shorter than going around to the front. She ground her teeth and glared at him.
“What are you doing out here, Miss Foley?”
The air caught in her lungs. She pulled to escape his grasp but he wouldn’t let her go.
“You obviously have some reason for being out at this hour. And I doubt it’s to take a moonlight stroll. A midnight rendezvous perhaps? Who is he?”
Josie felt an intense desire to kick him. In a swift move, she picked up her skirts and darted to the side. But before she could take her first step toward freedom, he flattened both hands against the trunk of the tree behind her and trapped her between his outstretched arms.
Josie fought the emotions racing through her. Her heart thundered in her breast and she was suddenly so warm she thought she must be standing very near a blazing fire. She wanted to pull away from him. Knew his presence was the cause of the heat that consumed her. And yet…
”You haven’t answered my questions.”
“And I don’t intend to.”
He smiled, but instead of backing away and letting her go, he leaned closer as if he knew his towering height would intimidate her. It did.
“I haven’t lived in this area long, Miss Foley, but since I’ve arrived I’ve heard your praises sung every time your name comes up. What do you think everyone would say if they knew about your midnight rendezvous?
Josie wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of a response.
“Such behavior is not at all what I expected from such an outstanding example of propriety. It makes one quite curious as to who or what is so important that you venture out at such a strange hour.”
“I’m simply taking a walk,” she bit out.
He broadened his grin. “You make a terrible liar. Perhaps you’d like to try again with more conviction.”
“What I’d like, is for you to step aside and let me pass.”
Josie followed her demand by placing her hand against one of his arms and pushing. The nighttime sky was dark again as a puffy cloud skittered in front of the moon. But she didn’t need light to point out what her other senses already knew. Touching his muscled forearm was like pushing against a stone wall. The feel of him beneath her fingers was rock solid.
“What secrets are you keeping, Miss Foley?” he whispered, then ran one long, graceful finger down her cheek and across her jaw. Josie sucked in a gasp of air and tried to ignore the way her heart thundered in her breast. Damn him. Damn him!
“I have no secrets.”
“Don’t you?”
He moved his hand to the other side of her face and cupped her cheek. His thumb gently stroked the contour of her jaw and she shivered.
“Please, take your hand away from me.” She gritted her teeth and pressed her head against the bark of the tree until her scalp hurt. She wanted to blame her reaction on fear but she knew that wasn’t the only reason her blood pounded against her ears and her skin tingled as if on fire. It was him. “I don’t want you to touch me.”
His brows shot up as if he questioned her words, then rubbed his thumb across her jaw once more. She prayed he’d let her go, but instead he anchored his hand against the tree again to keep her from escaping.
“Why won’t you tell me where I can find Carrie Gardner’s child?”
His abrupt switch of subject caught her off guard. A small gasp caught in her throat at the same mo
ment a cloud slid away from the moon to expose his face in vivid clarity. It was then that she remembered in detail the steel gray of his eyes, the dark, haunting boldness. The promise of danger.
“You’re lying when you say you don’t know what happened to the child. From what I’ve gathered, there isn’t anything about a child in the whole area to which you are not privy.”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, Lord Rainforth, but—“
“I’ve heard that you’re the first person on the spot when a child is left unprotected. I’ve heard you steal them away before the authorities have a chance to decide what’s to be done with them.”
“Steal them? You make it sound as if I’m a bigger threat to the children than if they were left alone in the world to fend for themselves.”
“Do I?”
Josie bristled. “Just what are you implying?” She shoved hard against his chest, trying to move him. He didn’t budge.
“I’m not implying anything. I’m simply stating a fact as I see it.”
“As you see it?” Josie gritted her teeth. “Then you are either blind or your mind is so warped it’s left with no option but to create answers as you wish to see them.”
“I don’t think there’s anything warped about being concerned for children who have no one else to protect them. Especially from someone like you.”
“Like me? Just what nefarious plan do you assume I have in mind for any child unfortunate enough to be left alone in the world?”
“Perhaps sell them to anyone willing to pay a price.”
The air rushed from her lungs and her hands balled into fists at her sides. “What did you say?”
“Don’t tell me there aren’t plenty of tenant farmers searching for cheap labor. What better place to supply that labor force than an orphanage.”
Josie battled a wave of fury unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
“What is the going price for a child, Miss Foley?”
“You think I sell the children? You think I take money…”
“I think it takes a sizable amount to run an orphanage. The money has to come from somewhere. How better than to—“
Before Josie could think better of her action, she reached out her hand and slapped him hard across the face. His reaction was equally as swift.
In a movement so fast she didn’t see coming, he clamped his fingers around her wrists and pinned her hands against the tree on either side of her face. The bark bit into her flesh, but she barely felt it. The look in his eyes caused her more concern than a little pain. She kept her gaze focused on his anger, but refused to let him think she was afraid of him.
“I would advise you to never do that again,” he whispered in a voice so deadly soft it sent shivers down her spine.
“As I would advise you to have a care with your accusations.”
The next few seconds stretched headlong into eternity while she stood still as stone. If she could have found the courage to risk his wrath, she would have turned her head to the side in defiance. But she couldn’t move. In that one second she realized what a formidable force he presented. And she knew without a doubt that if she backed down now, he would destroy her. As well as the children.
She clenched her hands into tighter fists and locked her gaze with his. “Release me,” she said, her voice sounding remarkably steady considering how violently every part of her seemed to tremble.
He held her a fraction longer, then loosened his fingers from around her wrists and pulled away. Josie dropped her hands to her sides. But he didn’t step away from her.
“I won’t give up, Miss Foley. If you refuse to help me locate Mrs. Gardner’s child, I’ll simply have to find another way.”
“And I’ll simply have to do everything in my power to keep you from succeeding.”
There was enough space between them now for Josie to escape his overpowering presence, but she didn’t move. Pride wouldn’t let her run away from him. She’d had to stand up to insurmountable odds her whole life. From the moment she’d been left alone in the world. This was no different. No matter how hard he glared at her; no matter how much he tried to intimidate her, she refused to buckle beneath his domineering ways. No one would ever have that control over her again. Never again.
“Don’t involve yourself in what doesn’t concern you, Lord Rainforth,” she said, unsettled by the silver gleam in his gray eyes.
“Is that a warning, Miss Foley?”
“Yes. Stay away. From here. From the orphanage.”
“From you?” he asked huskily.
She swallowed. “Yes. From me.”
His sensual gaze moved along the length of her body. “And if I don’t?”
She stepped back into the shadows where he couldn’t see the hot blush on her face. “You’ve been warned.”
He arched a brow and opened his mouth to reply but she didn’t give him a chance. She turned around and walked away before he could utter a retort.
Josie expected to hear his footsteps crashing behind her. Dreaded hearing them…yet inexplicably hoped for them as well. The flush of heat inside her signaled a warning of its own, making the Marquess of Rainforth more dangerous than she’d ever imagined.
Jaded Moon
by Laura Landon
Ransomed Jewels Series Book Two
CHAPTER 4
Ross followed the narrow lane that wound through St. Stephen’s, then across the border onto Clythebrook Estate. If he continued onto the main thoroughfare, the lane would go east through neighboring Lindville Grange, then onward until it merged with a more well-traveled road that would eventually find its way to London.
It had been nearly a week since his confrontation with Miss Foley. Six days and nine hours to be exact. And during that time, he’d spent every minute going over the estate books. He had a child now, a child that—because of its illegitimacy—could never inherit any of the entailed Rainforth property. But that child could inherit St. Stephen’s Hollow.
Ross knew what the books indicated and if he wanted to ensure St. Stephen’s would always be profitable, he needed to make improvements to accomplish it.
He’d come up with a plan that would not only make St. Stephen’s more financially rewarding, but would also give him access to the land overlooking the caves used by the smugglers. The idea had merit, but if there was a drawback, it was that it would be necessary to include a rather large section of Clythebrook Estate.
After considering every aspect of the venture, then talking it over with Virgil Thompkins, his steward, Ross was more convinced than ever that his plan would work. Not only would his venture make St. Stephen’s and Clythebrook independently wealthy, but it would also, as Thompkins pointed out, provide an abundant bounty for the orphanage—a benefit to which Miss Foley could hardly object.
He remembered his confrontation with the children’s caretaker a few days earlier and was certain she wouldn’t refuse anything that would help the children. This understanding of her very complex and confusing personality led him to map out his plan very carefully.
He’d already discovered making demands of her didn’t accomplish anything. The more he tried to intimidate her with the power and influence afforded those of his station, the more determined she was to keep his child from falling into his lecherous hands.
She’d already figured out that Carrie had been his mistress, and that she’d had a child by him. It was his character she objected to and his most damning black mark was that she assumed he’d banished Carrie to St. Stephen’s to get rid of her. This was why Miss Foley considered him the worst rake in all of England. Well, he thought with a wry sense of humor, he hardly cared what she thought about him. The child was his and he wasn’t about to let her keep it from him.
Ross considered his idea with renewed determination. His plan was good and as he traveled across Clythebrook Estate, he noticed several other glaring facts that told him the added income from the venture he intended to propose would be more than welcome.
/> Although the tenants’ cottages seemed in relatively good repair, the same could not be said of the outbuildings on the small plots of land where they lived. Neither could it be said of the crumbling stones on the bridge that spanned the dry creek or the condition of the lanes and byways leading to and from Clythebrook Manor. Even the stone wall once built to keep the earth on the hillsides from eroding stood riddled with huge, gaping holes.
Ross urged his mount forward. The road in front of him, if a road you could call it, was no wider than the span of a wagon in spots and in desperate need of repairs in others. He made a mental note to hire a crew to see to its improvement. The ruts were so deep from the last rain it was barely passable now, and would be a quagmire of sticky mud if nothing was done before the next downpour. Perhaps once he explained how his venture would bring in enough capital to make several necessary improvements, Lady Clythebrook would agree without hesitation.
Ross smiled. It would be worth it to see the frustration on Miss Foley’s face when she realized Lady Clythebrook supported him. Even more worth it to watch her torn between her determination to keep him as far away from her and the orphanage as possible, and her desperation to provide for the children.
He wanted to smile at his sudden sense of satisfaction, but the reality of what he intended sliced through him as a double edged sword. For some reason he couldn’t explain, she affected him like no other woman ever had. She appeared to him at the most unlikely moments and infiltrating her world would only make it that much more difficult to banish her from his thoughts. That was already happening. He’d had a devil of a time trying to do just that since the night he’d found her running through the woods.
For six sleepless nights he’d tried to pretend the heat that had seared his body when he’d pressed himself against her hadn’t really happened. But he knew it had.
He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle and pushed his mount toward Clythebrook Manor. He knew what his problem was. He’d been without a woman too long. That was the only logical explanation for the turmoil caused by just thinking about her. A turmoil he was determined to ignore—which was why he’d chosen this time of day to pay a call on Lady Clythebrook.