She rose instantly. “The window—” she began.
“I’ll take care of it. Wouldn’t want any criminal types getting in.”
She stared at him, then started to laugh. “You’re a highwayman,” she reminded him.
“But I don’t break into houses,” he informed her.
He left her then, hurrying back to the sewing room.
The intruder had bent the latch. He could repair it, using the blade of his knife and a fair amount of pressure, but it had been weakened. What was worse was the fact that none of the windows in the place was invulnerable. He found a stout wooden beam—part of a stand for a mannequin, he imagined—and he used it to wedge the window shut. No one would be breaking in again that way unless they actually shattered the window.
Still, the cottage wasn’t safe.
Back in the parlor, he noticed the phone. “Why didn’t you call for help?”
“The line has been cut.”
“Stay here,” he said.
She lifted her hands, smiling again. “I have nowhere to go.” But she stood as he started toward the front door.
“Where are you going?” he asked with a frown.
“With you.”
“Ally, whoever it was, he was after you, not me. I’m just going to see about the phone connection. I’ll be right back. Please, stay inside. And lock the door when I’m gone.”
It didn’t take him long to discover that the phone connection had indeed been severed. When she opened the door to let him back in, he felt a rising sense of anxiety he had not imagined possible. He paced the parlor.
“You cannot stay here. I’ll…You’ll ride with me. Lord Farrow is in residence at his lodge tonight. You’ll be safe with him.”
“No,” she said firmly.
“No? Ally, are you mad? Someone tried to get in here, most likely to kill you.”
“Perhaps it was just someone who was desperate,” she said. “Someone who saw the aunts leave, perhaps, and thought the cottage was empty.”
He stared at her, and she flushed. “Why would I suddenly be in danger?” she demanded.
“Why indeed?” he murmured. “The reason doesn’t matter now. You can’t stay here.”
“I have to stay here. Don’t you see? The aunts will come back, and we don’t know that they won’t be in danger, too.”
He stared at her, clenching his teeth tightly. But she was right. Someone out there was ruthless. There was no question about it. And he couldn’t put her aunts in danger. Still, it nagged at him that she had almost certainly lied to him. She was quite probably Olivia Cottage, also known as A. Anonymous, and since three grown, able-bodied men had had their throats slit…
He sat down. “We’ll wait.”
“We’ll wait?”
“Do you really want me to leave right now?” he asked her.
“How will I explain you to the aunts?”
“Where did they go?”
“To the Mortons’ house, to help out. The Mortons are ill.”
“Then we must wait for them to return, then leave. None of you can come back to this house tonight.”
“And where shall we spend the night?”
“At Lord Farrow’s.”
She sighed. “This is…bizarre. It’s probably because of Mark Farrow.”
“What?” he demanded.
“Well, I am no one, and I have nothing. I’ve lived my life in these woods in no danger. But now, I am suddenly engaged to Mark Farrow, and you see what has happened.”
She had seldom appeared more beautiful to him than she did then, seated on the sofa in a simple skirt and white blouse, hair free and wild, eyes serious in the firelight.
“I think this may go beyond your engagement to Mark Farrow,” he told her, trying not to sound irritated.
Could she possibly suspect that he and Mark were one and the same?
“And why else would someone be seeking to harm me?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Perhaps you should tell me.”
“You’re an outlaw,” she reminded him.
No, she didn’t know. Couldn’t know!
He let out a sigh of frustration, wondering if he should tell her the truth. Never, since she was clearly not being honest with him.
“None of that matters. You can no longer stay here.”
“As I said, I will not leave until they have returned.”
“Perhaps you should pack a few things and be ready to leave once they arrive.”
“And you’re going to wait? And greet them? If the poor dears see you, they’ll have heart palpitations on the spot.”
He started to pace, ignoring her as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Must you?” she demanded.
“Must I what?”
“Prowl so. Will you please sit down?”
He was startled when she patted the place by her side. “Sit, please. You’re making me nervous.”
He frowned, then sat. He was stunned when she leaned against his shoulder. “I am so tired,” she murmured.
He couldn’t resist, despite the peril of the night and the very real concern he felt for her safety. He leaned back, setting a hand upon her hair and head, urging her to rest her head on his knee. “Rest, then…rest for now. How long do you think the aunts will be?”
“Their note said they would return late,” she murmured, practically curling onto his lap. Her hair spread over him. She was warm against his legs. He had to force himself to focus on something other than the instant reaction of his body to the nearness of this woman.
He set a hand on her hair again, smoothing it back. I am in love, he thought, even though he knew everything she had ever said was sensible. He barely knew her. And yet he knew all he needed to know. She was promised to him. Him? She lay so trustingly, so intimately against him, though as far as she knew, she was promised to another man.
He’d never wanted anything so much in his life. But…wanting her so much, he could force nothing. Indeed, with her there, he barely dared to breathe.
She stirred.
His body stirred in response.
Could she tell? He could not give himself away.
He swallowed hard. “How much later do you think they will be?”
“I don’t know the time now.”
“It’s close to ten.”
“Probably another hour…two hours.”
He might well combust by then. He forced himself to concentrate. “Do you know where you struck the fellow with your poker?”
“In the curtain,” she replied ruefully.
“Did you catch his face?”
“I don’t believe so, and he still had strength in his arms, enough to grab my wrist. I believe I must have struck him in the torso.”
“I wish you’d caught him in the legs.”
“I’m dreadfully sorry,” she snapped.
He had to laugh. “No, you were quite wonderful, actually. You did not cower in a corner, nor did you run out into the danger, screaming madly for help. You attacked him before he had a chance to attack you. But…it might be possible to notice someone limping, you see.”
“Oh? Is there a tavern where all criminals go for their nightcaps? Where you might imbibe and watch for a limping intruder?”
“I doubt the man was your run-of-the mill criminal, Ally.”
“The longer I think on this, the more I’m certain he was just some poor fellow who saw what he thought was an empty cottage in the woods and was seeking only food and a few trinkets to steal.”
“That’s not the truth, and you know it.”
Her fingers moved upon his knee as she adjusted herself to look at him. His body quickened, but he forced himself to calmly meet her eyes. She smiled suddenly.
“What?”
“This is insane. You’re an outlaw,” she said softly. “Yet here I am, so trusting, all but in your arms. You held up my carriage, behaved abominably, and yet…I trust you,” she whispered, her eyes huge, her voice low and sensual.
&
nbsp; His jaw locked for a moment. He forced it to work. “You’re engaged.”
“So they say.”
“There is a ring on your finger.”
“Yes, a rather lovely one. But with effort I can surely remove it.”
“You need to marry Mark Farrow.”
“Oh? Have you suddenly turned into my guardian?”
“Your life is in danger. You are not thinking clearly.”
She reached up and lightly stroked his chin. “At least you’re a noble outlaw,” she said.
Those fingers on his flesh. Her eyes…
He suddenly set her upright. There was still the possibility that the intruder might come back, perhaps with reinforcements.
“Ally—”
“I don’t know what it is about you,” she said, watching him as he got up and stood before the fire. Then she sighed, running her hand over the place at her side where he had so recently sat. “Even if I am to marry Mark Farrow, I am not married yet, am I?”
“What are you saying?” he demanded, afraid his tone was far too fierce.
She smiled. It was a beautiful, sad, wistful smile. “I am saying I may well have to marry the man, but I am a modern woman. My life is my own. And I am not married yet.”
“Are you propositioning me, Miss Grayson?” he demanded. He couldn’t help but feel his temper start to rise. If she didn’t know…
Every possessive bone in his body started to ache.
“Never,” she said.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
“I would never put it so,” she whispered. “I have just found that…well, I am about to enter a life I did not seek, a marriage I did not wish. But before that time, I am a free woman.”
Damn her! She had to know, surely. She was doing this just to torture him. He had to say something.
But he had no chance to reply. He heard the approaching sound of wheels turning, a horse’s hooves thudding.
“They’re here,” he said.
She leapt to her feet. “You have to go.”
He stood still. “No.”
“What? How on earth shall I explain you?” she demanded, looking wild again. “Good heavens, they said they’d be late!”
“Imagine.”
“Go! You’ve got to leave.”
“No. Who is driving them home?”
“No one. Violet always drives the rockaway coach.”
He nodded and started toward the door. She all but threw herself against him. “No!”
“There is no help for it.”
He stepped outside, calling, “Please, don’t be afraid.”
Despite his words, Violet screamed. Merry, at her side, let out a choking sound. Edith, in the rear, appeared to swoon.
“Darlings, it’s all right!” Ally cried.
She rushed to help a now-disheveled Edith find her feet. He strode forward, thinking Violet the staunchest of the three.
“Madam, I am so sorry to upset you.”
“It’s him. It’s the highwayman,” Merry breathed.
“But not at all a dangerous man, I swear. However, there was someone dangerous here tonight, trying to break into the cottage and almost succeeding,” he said quickly.
“What?” Merry gasped.
Edith nearly swooned again. Ally steadied her.
“Listen, please…the highwayman helped me,” Ally explained desperately. “He drove the intruder off when he was nearly in the cottage.”
“The point is,” Mark put in, “you can’t stay here.”
That created a furor and one of the most curious conversations Mark had ever heard.
“Can’t stay here?” Violet echoed.
“But where will we go?” Merry demanded.
“We can’t just leave everything,” Edith managed in a whisper.
“We must,” Merry said.
“Of course we must,” Violet said. “We cannot allow Ally to be in any danger whatsoever.”
“No, no, of course not,” Merry said.
“He’s a highwayman,” Edith wailed.
“He rescued Ally,” Violet said. “That is all that matters. Therefore, we will not turn you in, young man!”
“The point is,” Mark said, “you need to pack a few things. And then I will ride with you as far as Lord Farrow’s lodge.”
“Lord Farrow’s lodge?” Violet said.
“You don’t have to stay there forever. But the lodge is close, and it is safe.”
Violet stared at him long and hard. She wagged a finger at him. “You must change your evil ways, young man.”
“Lord Farrow might well demand your arrest!” Ally said.
“I will leave you before he sees me,” Mark assured her.
“Come, come, don’t dawdle, sisters,” Violet said. “Ally, have you anything packed?”
“Not yet.”
“Then we all must move. Hurry along,” Violet ordered.
Ally arched a brow and stared at him with a stern frown. He shrugged. There was nothing else he could have done. He would never allow them to travel through the forest alone. Not with Ally, certainly not that night. And now…never.
“You don’t even have a dog,” he muttered as Violet walked past him.
She lifted her chin. “We’ve had watchdogs in the past,” she snapped. “But when one loses a fine companion, it is not easily replaced.”
With that, she walked past him, into the house. Shrugging, Ally followed, still lending a hand to Edith, who seemed about to pass out again after she merely looked his way.
The sisters were efficient. It didn’t take them even thirty minutes to pack up what belongings they needed for the night. He loaded the rockaway coach for them, then mounted his horse. Violet again took the reins, and Ally sat with Edith.
The lantern set above the driver’s perch cast light before them as they traveled. Their horse plodded slowly but surely through the night. Of course, what might have been a quick ride seemed endless.
They encountered no one.
When at last they approached his father’s lodge, they could see light burning from within. Bertram, his father’s burly factotum, emerged from the house at the sound of their approach. Jeeter followed, and his father came behind Jeeter.
“I must leave you now,” Mark murmured, and, spurring his horse, he turned to ride back down the drive, knowing his father would allow no harm to come to any of them.
Ally explained the night’s events to Lord Farrow, who immediately asked Jeeter and Bertrum to help with their belongings, then led them inside. “What happened to the intruder? How did you scare him off?” Lord Farrow demanded.
“Oh, dear, you cannot imagine,” Merry began, but Ally nudged her warningly and spoke over her.
“A…friend happened by,” she said. Could Lord Farrow possibly know about his son’s double life?
The highwayman had ridden away the second he knew they had been seen approaching the lodge.
“A friend,” she repeated. “He escorted us this far and saw we were safe, but he had…pressing business and could not wait.”
“We do apologize for intruding,” Violet said.
But Lord Farrow was far too gracious to allow for any apologies.
“My dears, Miss Grayson is to be my daughter-in-law. You are like my sisters. You are more than welcome here. I am merely concerned about what has happened and how to keep it from happening again.” He frowned. “The wedding must be held as soon as arrangements can be made.”
“What?” Ally gasped, then caught herself as she realized the truth of her feelings.
She was going to marry him. Because she was falling in love with him, already was in love with him, even if she felt unable to be wholly honest with him. But then, how dare he lie to her so?
Yet he had managed to be there tonight in the nick of time. Yes, she had fought the intruder, but would she have won?
Fear began to seep into her soul. Had she been marked for murder? Why? Did someone else suspect that she was A. Anonymous?
>
“The wedding must take place very soon,” Lord Farrow said quietly, looking at her with steady eyes.
“We must have time to plan,” she insisted.
“Safety must come before the niceties,” Lord Farrow said. “But that can all be discussed tomorrow. We’ve guest rooms down the hall, quite spacious. In fact, you can each have your own room—”
“No, no, please. We are best together tonight,” Ally said.
“All in one bed?” Lord Farrow asked. “You needn’t be so crushed.”
“I’ll sleep with Edith, and Merry and Violet can be together. I think we all feel we need some loving company tonight,” Ally said.
He smiled at her. She felt a rush of affection for the man. Maybe it was because she knew he honestly liked her.
How comforting to think of having him for her father-in-law.
On the other hand, how disturbing to think of having a husband.
“I will ride first watch,” Bertram said.
Lord Farrow nodded. “Set the lads and ladies loose, as well.”
“The lads and ladies?” Violet asked.
“Wolfhounds,” Lord Farrow said. “Marvelous creatures. Large as tigers, loyal to the core, and exceptional guard dogs.”
“Oh, yes, we had a wonderful wolfhound once, remember, Ally?” Merry asked.
“Yes, but I was young.”
“Perhaps we should have such a dog again,” Violet murmured.
“I’ll see to it,” Lord Farrow told her. “And now, to bed. It’s quite lucky I was here tonight. Angus would have definitely seen to you in the village, but there is space here, and we are almost family. Is there anything you would like? Tea?”
“A shot of whiskey,” Edith said.
They all stared at her in stunned silence for a minute.
Lord Farrow shrugged and grinned. “A shot of whiskey it is. And, if you think you can possibly remain awake a bit longer, I’ll have Sir Angus Cunningham out here as quickly as possible. He is the sheriff, and he must know what has happened immediately.”
“I suppose we must speak with the sheriff, yes,” Violet said.
“Indeed,” Merry agreed, and she looked at Edith. “So you must go slowly with that whiskey.”
MARK AWOKE TO THE SOUND of a snort and the feel of a soft, wet muzzle against his cheek. He opened his eyes, looked up and groaned. Galloway, one of his finest Arab-mix steeds, was standing above him, curious and eager to wake him.
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