‘But interesting. Milton was brave as well, come to think of it. I doubt I would have done that—pulling a woman off a funeral pyre. Wonder if she had anything to do with the jewels.’
Adam pressed his fingers into his forehead. For now, he would assume Heritage’s interest was pure curiosity and there was no evil intent. Heritage was a brother officer. Heritage had been the man in charge of the detail that had hanged the prisoners. It had been his task to make sure all the thuggee who remained were hanged. He could remember how bitterly Heritage had complained in the officers’ mess about the task and the men under him, how it had prevented him from pursuing some Indian beauty that he had lost to another man.
‘Right now all I want to think about is a soft bed and a dreamless sleep.’ Adam wrinkled his nose. ‘I dare say that I will have to take the laudanum the quack left.’
‘You were never fond of opium.’
‘Saw too many men’s minds turn in India. I much prefer an honest glass of port.’
Heritage’s pale cheeks coloured slightly and his eyes slid away from Adam. Adam smiled grimly. He had remembered correctly. Heritage had been fond of opium back in India, preferring to spend the day smoking away rather than seeing to his duties. There was no harm in Heritage besides his being lazy, and anyway. India had had its own set of problems.
‘So they all say. Not all of us are as lucky as you were on the hill station. They did say the treasure was cursed, though. How many of you are left? Only you.’
Heritage’s laugh echoed as the door closed. Adam sat up, reached for his fountain pen and began to make plans. Tentacles from the past were reaching out. He refused to let them harm her, an innocent bystander. He owed it to Milton’s memory and he owed it to Miss Milton for saving his worthless hide. He would find a way. He would keep Miss Prim and Proper safe.
* * *
The familiar confines of the schoolroom greeted Daisy when she returned to the Blandish household. Perhaps they were a little dull, but they were safe and a known quantity. She knew how to be a governess and what was expected of her. And if she started to become emotionally involved with her charges, she departed. It was the best way.
Daisy picked up Nella’s blotched writing-exercise paper. Nella for once had completed the task. At the end, she wrote: I love my governess, Miss Milton, very much and have no wish to get her in trouble. Daisy’s heart contracted. It would hurt more than most times when she left Nella. Maybe this once, she would break her rule and keep in touch with the child. It would be interesting to see how she turned out.
‘Miss Milton. Miss Milton, you must tell me all about Lord Ravensworth. Susan wants to know. She quizzed me for such a long time after you left with Lord Edward.’ Nella rushed in with her hair ribbon askew. ‘And Susan never notices me, except to scold!’
‘There is nothing to tell. Lord Ravensworth is a highly respectable man. He is with his friends and his other carriage and his valet will arrive shortly.’
‘Why is no one ever friends with unrespectable men? Why is the world made of rules and regulations?’
‘Because anarchy is not the way the world works.’ Daisy ran her finger along the edge of the schoolroom’s table. Order and peace. Her adventure was over. She had made the correct choice for everyone. ‘Have you emptied the basket from our excursion?’
‘Do I have to? We, you and I, have been invited down to supper.’ Nella gave a twirl. ‘Imagine, supper like a grown lady! I wish to wear my blue dress, the one that matches my eyes. Some day I will be the toast of seven regiments.’
‘Can lady explorers be toasts of regiments?’
Nella screwed up her nose, considering. ‘Lady explorers can do anything they want to. I promise to empty the basket first thing…’
‘First thing in the morning, then. I want to show you how to correctly clean the brushes.’
‘Miss Milton?’
‘Hmm…’ Daisy glanced up from the lines to see Nella still standing in the centre of the room, hands behind her back, swaying on her tiptoes.
‘Shall I find the scandal sheets? I am positive Lord Ravensworth is the gentleman who seduced a marquis’s wife at a ball last year. Or was it that he had a duchess running after him all over Paris? It can be so hard to puzzle out the names.’
‘Nella!’ Daisy gave her fierce glare, but Nella merely raised her eyebrows. Daisy tapped her finger against the table. The scandal sheets would be just the thing to cure her. Her place was in the security of the schoolroom, and not in the blazing ballrooms of society. ‘Very well, you may bring them. Then we shall try to determine if you are exaggerating.’
‘You are the best, Miss Milton.’ Nella gave her a quick hug and raced away.
Daisy shook her head and began to tidy the room. Everything in its place. Neat. Orderly. Like her life.
* * *
Two days and a pile of unsatisfactory scandal sheets later, Daisy turned the handle of the schoolroom’s door. Papers littered the floor. Her new bottle of ink was turned over, the ink pooling beneath the table, like some great spreading evil, staining everything it touched. Chaos and confusion reigned everywhere. She shook her head and started to pick up the nearest pile of papers. Nella had gone too far this time.
A faint noise made her turn her head towards the window. In the shadows, the figure of a man loomed. She screamed and started for the door.
Something cold touched her neck, tightening. Daisy jabbed back with her elbows and connected with flesh. With every ounce of strength, she fought against the tightening pressure about her neck, twisting first one and then the other. As the world started to turn black, Daisy made one last try, kicking as well as jabbing and suddenly the pressure on her neck was gone. She was free.
Daisy fled the room, slamming the door behind her. As she reached the corridor, her legs gave out. She slumped against the wall and willed her heart to stop pounding. Like a mouse under the gaze of a snake, she watched the handle of the schoolroom door. Would it turn? Would her attacker pursue her? Would she have the strength to run?
‘Is there a problem, Miss Milton?’ Lord Ravensworth’s velvet voice resounded in the corridor. Daisy put a hand to her forehead and tried to blot out the sight and the imagined sound of Lord Ravensworth. Things like this did not happen to her. She forced her lungs to meet her stays and wished that she had not tied them quite as tightly.
‘Is there a problem, Miss Milton?’ Lord Ravensworth repeated, this time nearer, clearer and definitely not a trick of her mind. ‘Miss Milton, answer me! Now! Are you unharmed?’
‘Perfectly fine!’
‘You appear less than fine. You look as if you have seen a ghost. I doubt you are a woman usually given to exercising her lungs in that manner.’
She turned and saw that he was standing at the top of the stairs, a concerned expression on his brow. Her heart skipped a beat. How long had it been since someone had cared about her as a person, rather than as a governess? She knew Felicity did, but she had Kammie to look after.
Daisy hated the way her eyes roamed over him, taking in the black frock coat, immaculately tied neckcloth and the figure-hugging cream trousers. She searched for signs of his injury, but he appeared to be moving with a grace and elegance as if the other day was of no consequence. His hair flopped over his forehead, giving him a slightly roguish appearance. The infamous Lord Ra—from the scandal sheets.
‘Miss Milton, are you entirely yourself? You screamed earlier. And now you appear to be struck dumb.’
Daisy attempted to secure an errant lock behind her ear and smooth her skirt. If she willed it, the fright would recede and her common sense would re-assert itself. No one was in that room.
‘How…how did you know it was me?’
‘You have a distinctive screech.’ He raised an eyebrow as his gaze travelled down her form. His lips curved up into a smile. ‘You appear uninjured. Were you practising for the next time you discover someone lying beside the river?’
Daisy pinched the bridge of her no
se. Absurdly she wished that she had worn something that brought colour to her eyes rather than her grey gown. She quickly banished the thought. Lord Ravensworth probably ate women like her for breakfast. She managed a weak smile and turned her gaze forcibly from his amber one. She raised her chin and used her best governess voice. ‘Thank you for your concern, Lord Ravensworth, but my fright is over. You may go and pay your respects to Mrs Blandish. Undoubtedly her calf’s-foot jelly aided in your recovery.’
He remained standing in the corridor. If anything, his stance became more solid and unyielding. ‘I discount exercising your lungs, Miss Milton.’
‘The schoolroom was disturbed. Papers were thrown about. I had left it neat and tidy before I went down to breakfast. Something got wound around my neck.’ Daisy put a hand to her head. Surely there had to be the logical explanation. Who would attack her in broad daylight? ‘I overreacted. The wind caught something and it became wrapped around my neck. I panicked.’
‘The air has been still.’ The words were quiet but firm and allowed for no dissent. ‘Are they in there?’
Daisy regarded the unmoving door handle. ‘I am a neat and tidy person, Lord Ravensworth, not a stupid one. I freed myself, rushed out of the room and slammed the door. No one followed me.’
‘Common sense is one of your virtues. You have already convinced me of that.’ A smile tugged at his mouth, transforming it. ‘Help has arrived, Miss Milton.’
‘Have I? Has it?’ Daisy hated the way her voice became breathless and soft, as if she was some helpless female. Resolutely she cleared her throat. ‘I feel I can take charge of the situation now. It is my schoolroom. You may go and greet Mrs Blandish.’
‘Allow me to discover what is going on in your room. Then you may take me to your employer. And we can explain together.’
Daisy hesitated. She hated to think what would be said if it was discovered that Lord Ravensworth had been alone with her, but the imperious look he gave her made her swallow her objection.
‘I would welcome your assistance as it will be the quickest way to be rid of you.’
Adam watched the tiny pulse in Miss Milton’s neck. She appeared to have recovered from her earlier fright. Silently he prayed that she was right, that it was simply a misplaced shawl. ‘Shall we end the mystery then?’
Miss Milton gave the tiniest of nods. ‘You are not to worry about me, Lord Ravensworth, I am quite recovered.’
Adam threw open the door. A cool breeze blew from the open window, stirring the papers. A bottle of ink dripped a blue-black puddle on to the carpet. He silently cursed as a quick glance did not reveal the basket. Miss Milton was safe, but the necklace?
He crossed the room in a few quick strides and closed the window with a resounding bang. The room overlooked a narrow porch. The thief must have exited that way. It would have had to have been someone desperate to chance being seen in broad daylight. There again, the attack on his carriage had been audacious. But he had his answer. The thief was after the necklace and not Miss Milton. For once, his feelings of impending doom were wrong.
‘There is no one here, Miss Milton. And I do fancy you are a far tidier person than this.’
He forced a light laugh and waited for her to retort with a clever phrase or two and be the strong woman she had been on the riverbank.
But Miss Milton stood, poised in the doorway, her hand clutching her throat, unmoving like a marble statue. Several tendrils had escaped from her hairstyle and framed her face in ringlets, making her appear far younger than when he had first seen her, younger and more vulnerable. Her frightened eyes looked past him.
Adam tried again, stepping over the upturned trunk and piles of ink-stained paper. ‘No one is here, Miss Milton. You are quite safe. No one wishes to harm you.’
She lifted a hand and pointed to the table where a yellow scarf with a single knotted end lay discarded, draped over a doll’s neck. An inarticulate cry emerged from her throat and she averted her face.
Adam froze. The easy words died on his lips. And if he undid the knot? Would he find the coin? How much of the ritual did these thieves remember? The time for treating Miss Milton’s sensibilities softly had ended. She was in danger.
‘Get it out of here, please get it out.’ Her voice rose. ‘That thing was around my neck. Cutting off my breath. Someone wanted to kill me.’
‘To frighten. Not to kill. The men who used to use these things were experts. If they wanted you dead, you would be.’
‘Why does that not fill me with comfort?’
‘I thought that as a governess you would prefer the truth. I stand corrected.’ Adam forced his voice to sound light as he picked up the offending object and threw it on the coal fire. It hissed and twisted like a snake before collapsing into ash. He would act, but first he had to have all the facts. If he frightened her, he would get nothing. Right now, he needed facts. ‘Can you see if anything is missing? Your basket?’
Miss Milton blinked and the terrified expression in her eyes lessened. ‘Nella has my basket. She wanted to gather flowers. We emptied out the paints last night. I never think she does a very good job, but she assured me she had taken everything out.’
Adam’s neck muscles relaxed. Nella had the basket. He forced air into his lungs. No one could know that he had secreted the necklace there. It was in the lining, rather than lying amongst the jumble of paints and books, safe and in the hands of a child. This was a warning, rather than an attempt to kill. Miss Milton was alive…for the moment.
‘It is an oblivious thing to go missing.’
‘I am sorry, Lord Ravensworth. I simply cannot see a thief, traipsing from room to room like a housewife on market day. The thieves in London must be very different from the thieves in Cumberland or, for that matter, Warwickshire.’ Daisy gave her head a little shake, sending more curls tumbling about her face. Her tongue flicked over her lips, turning them cherry ripe, tempting him. Adam smiled inwardly. Seduction might be the answer. She would have to yield then, but the first move would have to come from her.
‘Do you have any idea why anyone would come into this room? Why anyone would want to harm you?’
Daisy remained in the doorway, her hands clasped together, but something flickered in her eyes. ‘The scarf reminds me of a tale my brother told. In India, various men he knew were sent dolls with yellow scarves about their neck. Later they died. There again, my brother probably just liked to tell tales. You know what boys are like. He enjoyed frightening Felicity and me. The letter equivalent of putting spiders down our backs.’
Adam met her green-grey gaze. How much should he tell her now? Could he begin by confessing that he owed Milton his life? Would she understand then? Would she forgive him for what he had to do? ‘He was a brave man and a good one. I wept when I heard he had died. He and his family.’
‘Did you? You knew him too?’ Daisy looked at Lord Ravensworth’s intent face. She wrapped her arms about her middle and tried to stop shivering. Lord Ravensworth was being kind, the same sort of kindness that he would extend to any woman. ‘Lord Edward did not remember him beyond that they had served together. There again, I doubt that Lord Edward sees anyone who is not the same rank as him.’
‘I believe you have correctly assessed the situation.’
‘I am getting worse than Nella for letting my tongue run away with me. Lord Edward is your friend.’
‘Remind me to tell you some time about the attack on the hill station. Your brother was a hero. He pulled a woman off a funeral pyre. They escaped and then he turned around. He came back to the hill station and fought with my men and me until the maharajah was defeated.’ His fingers brushed her cheek. In spite of everything she knew about his reputation and all the promises she had made after reading the scandal sheets, Daisy’s heart started to beat faster. ‘Those men, the thuggee, are all dead, Daisy. But does anyone have any reason to harm you? Trust in me. This was a warning, nothing more.’
A warning. Tom had warned in his last letter about the
thuggee, and the grudge they bore him. And that he thought she would be strong enough to keep his treasure safe. But the only treasure he had sent was his daughter, and no one could be after Kammie. ‘There is no reason why anyone could wish me harm. I am a governess, just a governess. It is so cold in here, so very cold.’
‘I understand.’
It was the single word. He understood. Daisy wrapped her arms about her waist again. It seemed incredible, but he understood. She was not alone and that somehow made it worse. An uncontrollable sob escaped her body. She took a half-step towards him, towards comfort and safety. ‘I… I…’
‘I am so sorry, Daisy. This should never have happened to you.’ His strong arms went around her and held her, pushing her head against his chest. She breathed in. The citrus scent he wore invaded her being, calming her. She allowed her head to rest a moment longer, listening to the steady thump of heart. His hands moved gently down her back, sending tiny tingles of fire throughout her being.
She swallowed hard. Daisy knew she had to move away from him, but her feet seemed to be rooted to the ground. She glanced up into his smouldering golden-brown eyes, intending to tell him that he had no need to apologise, he hadn’t done anything wrong.
All thought of speech fled.
His mouth descended on hers, claiming her. Gone was the gentle kiss of the other day. This was hard, possessive, insistent and filled her with a deep abiding warmth that drove away the all-pervading cold.
Her hair came free, tumbling about her shoulders, but she refused to care. Her world had shrunk to his mouth, his lips, and his hands stroking her hair.
Her back arched towards him, seeking his heat and strength. Instantly, he shifted, pulling her tighter against him. An inarticulate noise came from her throat as his lips blazed a trail across her cheekbones, her temple and throat, soothing her and blocking out all memory of the hideous scarf.
‘It is all right. I have you,’ his voice rumbled in her ear. ‘Nothing and no one will hurt you while I am here. Trust me to look after you and to keep you from harm.’
Compromising Miss Milton Page 9