Thornbrook Park (A Thornbrook Park Romance)

by Sherri Browning

“Lawson,” he explained to Gabriel as quickly as he could, “is Eve’s former landlord, and the man who defrauded Captain Ben Kendal out of his savings. He once came after Eve with a knife. And now Eve’s missing.”

  “We’re all at your service, sir.” Gabriel’s friend stepped forward.

  “Has anyone checked the farm?” Gabriel asked. “Maybe she got talking with Mrs. Dennehy and lost track of time. Winthrop, fetch Dale to drive my brother out there to check on her, will you?”

  “Dale is already out searching,” Marcus said. “Sophia’s orders.”

  “The horses.” Marcus looked off to the stable, from where Gabriel, Winthrop, and Dovedale had just come. “They’re probably still saddled.”

  But as Marcus entered the stable, he could see that the groom was rubbing the horses down. Catching up to his brother, Gabriel placed a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. The others trailed in after Gabriel. “They’re exhausted, Marcus. We’ll have to go on foot.”

  “We?” He turned to Gabriel. “You’ll help me?”

  “I know the land better than you do. We’ll go over every inch if we have to, and we’ll find her.” That meant more to Marcus than he could say.

  “I’ll go look in town and check at the train station,” Dovedale said. “Maybe they have some record of tickets sold or a note of departing passengers.”

  “Good idea,” Marcus said. “And Mr. Winthrop will be here if she turns up at home.”

  “I’ll take a few of the dogs and look for her myself in the opposite direction of whichever way you head,” Mr. Winthrop said. “There are plenty of people here if she comes back. They can try to send word out to us if she’s found.”

  Sophia approached, striding with purpose. Marcus hoped she had good news, but her grim expression said otherwise.

  “Lucy has just told me something. From an upstairs window, she saw Eve come home from her walk. When she came down, she heard her talking to Ginny, one of the maids, in the drawing room.”

  “Did she hear what they were saying? Where’s Ginny?” Ginny. It had to be Ginny, the blackmailer. No good could come of this. His head began to throb. “I want to see her at once.”

  “Ginny’s gone.” Sophia wrung her hands. “According to Mrs. Hoyle, she gave notice this afternoon and she’s already cleared out her things. She said she had a better offer. Lucy said Ginny has been going out to the tavern after hours and was there nearly half the night last night.”

  Marcus put his head in his hand. Lawson. He was sure Ginny had run into him somehow these past two nights and started working with the man. What did she have against Thornbrook Park? Against Eve? He looked up again. “We’ll head to the farm. Maybe Mrs. Dennehy knows something, or maybe we’ll catch sight of Eve along the way.”

  “I’m with you,” Gabriel said, appearing at the stable door with rifles and ammunition. “Let’s go.”

  They would find her. And he prayed that they would find her safe and well.

  Twenty-seven

  Furious, Eve stumbled over the uneven terrain, driven by Oliver Lawson at her side who nudged her along and barked orders. Subtly, she tried to loosen the ropes that bound her wrists behind her back as she formed a plan of escape. Intense pain and throbbing behind her eyes made it hard to focus. She’d been hit on the head with something. When she’d regained consciousness, she’d found that her hands were tied securely. He threatened her with a knife, his only weapon.

  “You listen to me carefully,” he said, his face only inches from hers, his breath hot and rancid. “I need you. I’m in no mood for contradiction. You’ll be quiet and you’ll follow me out of here, away, and you won’t scream out. I can kill you before anyone gets close enough to save you.”

  “I don’t understand. What do you hope to accomplish?” Why hadn’t he killed her already, if that was his intention?

  “I stayed around here biding my time, trying to get rid of you. I finally gave up and made it all the way back to London in time to see my wife carted out of the house by Scotland Yard. I came back here for you. You owe me.” He wore the same suit he’d worn when he first accosted her, dark frock coat over a jacket and waistcoat, but he’d lost the bowler hat.

  “How? What have I ever done to you?”

  “You came around asking questions, raising suspicion. I didn’t want to kill Strump, but your coming around made him question our whole operation. Once he was out of the way, Leona and I needed to make sure you wouldn’t come back to stir it all up again. I came to manage that, but you had an unexpected protector.” He rubbed his head as if it still smarted from where Marcus had clocked him.

  “Scotland Yard’s on to you, watching for you. It’s only a matter of time. I don’t see what I can do for you now.”

  “You can be Leona Strump. We have accounts in India, set up by Edgar Strump. With Leona gone, I need someone to pretend to be Leona to access those accounts.”

  “You don’t say.” She couldn’t resist adding the comment, but she paid for it with a sharp jerk on the rope that bound her and then a push.

  “Faster. We’ve a lot of terrain to cover.”

  He slowed his pace when she kept him talking, so she continued the conversation. “Leona is beneficiary on her husband’s accounts, I take it? Though, of course, he wasn’t really her husband. You’re counting on reaching India before the news of your wife’s arrest?”

  “Easily. We’ll book passage tonight. We’re taking the train at Skipham. Don’t want to risk being apprehended at Thornbrook. Though I suppose no one even knows you’re missing yet.”

  “I had an appointment for tea. I assure you they’re all out looking for me by now.” She dared to hope. “I’m a dear friend to the Countess of Averford. The earl’s a great hunter, you know.”

  “I’m shaking in my boots.” He laughed. “We’ve got at least an hour on anyone looking for you.”

  “And how do you know Ginny?” She assumed he’d put Ginny up to luring her.

  “There’s no worse enemy to a house than a mistreated maid. I went to the tavern to ponder how I might nab you. There she was, with an axe to grind about Thornbrook Park. We came to talking and she had some very helpful suggestions.”

  “But why? What can anyone have ever done to Ginny?”

  “Take it up with the earl, I suppose. ’Cept you probably won’t ever see him again. You’re going to come with me to drain our accounts as Leona Strump. I’ll need money to live on if I’m going to be on the run again.”

  “You’ll keep on running. It will get exhausting. Wouldn’t it be easier just to turn yourself in?”

  “And face a murder charge? I’ll hang. No thank you.” He loosened his collar as if loosening an invisible noose from his neck.

  She might never see Marcus again. Her heart lurched, but her stomach followed.

  “Come on, faster.” He nudged her.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” she warned.

  “Nice try.” Lawson gave her a shove that was slightly harder than previous nudges. “Keep moving. We’ll get there if it takes all night.”

  “It just might,” she said. “My head hurts. I feel ill.”

  “Boo-hoo,” he said. “Move.”

  By now, Sophia must have realized something was wrong. Eve guessed that Lawson planned to kill her once he was done with her, sooner if he got frustrated with her delay tactics.

  “Really, I wish you well,” she said, beginning to ramble out of desperation. “I always thought you were a good man. You found a way to make a fortune, good for you. My grandfather was American. I appreciate industrious types. It’s a wonder we didn’t cross paths coming or going from London. I was there yesterday, too.”

  He groaned. “Would have made my life easier.”

  Carefully she moved, every step an agony. She had no idea how much time had passed between the hit on the head and their movement through the
forest. Were they still on Lord Averford’s land? “If you cut the rope binding my hands, I’ll be better able to maintain my balance and move faster. I’m still a little hazy. Maybe it’s the head wound.”

  He shoved her sharply from behind and she fell facedown to the forest floor, a carpet of pine needles barely cushioning the blow. She hated having her back to him, so she struggled to roll over as soon as she could move.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I lost my balance. Please. I can’t go on.”

  He leaned over her, pointing with the knife once again. “You will. Get up, or I’ll really make walking miserable for you.”

  “I’ll try,” she said, growing more terrified as he pulled her back to her feet.

  She moved a little faster now to satisfy him, afraid to say much more. She had to think. And suddenly, the nausea welled up again. She feared she would be sick.

  She heard a sound. Perhaps Gabriel was in the area hunting? She kept her ears trained for the sound of rifles, dogs, anything. But she didn’t hear it again. She kept walking.

  ***

  They’d searched the path to the farm without any sign of her. Marcus’s heart sank when Mrs. Dennehy told them Eve was no longer there. His last hope was that Gabriel had been right, that she was simply visiting with Mrs. Dennehy. Now, they headed into the woods.

  Marcus kept his head down, looking for any trace of a struggle.

  “But why would anyone want to kill Eve?” Gabriel asked.

  “Lawson probably feared that she knew more than she did. He’d stolen thousands from her husband that had been entrusted to him as investments. When Eve went looking into her affairs, I think she made Strump, her solicitor, start to question everything. Lawson killed Strump, and he was going to kill her, too.” If he hadn’t already, but Marcus couldn’t allow such thoughts. She had to be alive.

  “Look, the forest floor has been disturbed.” Gabriel swept a hand out.

  “You’re right.” Marcus noticed the pattern of scattered pine needles among the leaves and rocks. “Footsteps. And someone passed through here.”

  Marcus gestured at a broken twig.

  “And here.” Gabriel stepped through the branches and crouched down, looking right to left.

  “Definitely,” Marcus agreed.

  Gabriel looked up at him. “When did you learn to track?”

  Marcus sighed, exasperated, but he was too worried about Eve to let his brother get to him. “In the war. I defused bombs. We had to know where to look.”

  “Right,” Gabriel said, straightening up. His eyes held a look of awe when he glanced back at Marcus, as if he’d never imagined that Marcus had really been at war until now. “Good God, little brother, you could have been killed out there.”

  Gabriel’s sudden embrace shocked Marcus. Did his brother really care for him? He patted his brother’s back before pulling away.

  “Yes, well, I wasn’t, and I learned a few things. Now Eve’s the one in danger.”

  “We’ll find her,” Gabriel assured him. “I don’t know when things started up between you two, but you could have said something. I wouldn’t have kept pushing you at Alice.”

  “Now you tell me?” They both knew it wasn’t entirely true.

  “If I knew you truly cared for her.” Gabriel shook his head. “I’m not a monster. We’ll find her.”

  They’d gone a few miles into the woods, tracing an uneven but walkable path, when they heard a rustling up ahead. Marcus nudged Gabriel’s arm and motioned through the trees. Eve’s dark coat stood out starkly among the drab forest greens and browns. Lawson’s back was to them as he pressed Eve against the trunk of a tree, holding a knife at the edge of her throat.

  Marcus’s breath caught. One wrong move and Lawson could drive the knife home, killing Eve instantly.

  At the distance, it was impossible to hear conversation, but Eve appeared to be bargaining with the man.

  Gabriel raised his rifle but, at Marcus’s gesture of caution, merely held it at the ready, not looking to get off a shot while Lawson stood so close to Eve. As the brothers watched, Lawson removed the knife from her neck and stepped away, nudging Eve in front of him. Still brandishing the knife, he urged her along the path. Marcus was thankful that the man only had a knife and not a gun. A knife could kill, too, but he’d have to be close enough to use it. They would have to wait for their opportunity until Lawson allowed enough distance between himself and Eve for Gabriel to get off his shot. Marcus had complete faith in his brother for few things in life, but his ability to shoot straight was one of them.

  Now that the man had become Gabriel’s prey, Lawson didn’t stand a chance.

  Twenty-eight

  Lawson stayed so close to her that Eve could feel him breathing down her neck. He held on to the binding between her wrists and used it to push her along, sometimes to steady her when she bobbled.

  “Just a few more miles,” he said.

  Her head throbbed. Her stomach churned. She wanted so badly to stop.

  “Are we even going the right way? It looks like we’ve traveled in circles,” she lied, desperate to add to his confusion and make him stop for a minute to think. She weighed her options. Once they emerged from the trees into civilization, he would have to release her wrists, wouldn’t he? She could try to slip away then. Or would she even make it that far?

  “We’re going the right way.” He didn’t give her the satisfaction of stopping to look around. “There’s still plenty of daylight.”

  She contemplated pointing out that they might miss the last train, but that would only make him push her harder and she was barely hanging on as it was. After walking all day, she was near exhaustion and wavering between fear and anger. It was useless to consider getting the weapon from Lawson.

  What could she do with her hands bound behind her back? But oh, how she would love to get in a few jabs. She thought of Marcus in the ring, his magnificence. If only he would come bounding through the woods to save her, throwing punches, right, left, right, until Oliver Lawson fell to the ground bloody and knocked out. What a wonderful fantasy.

  She thought perhaps it would be more satisfying to go down fighting rather than allowing herself to be pushed along to a slow death. If she dropped to the ground, a dead weight, could she manage to kick him down, too, and keep kicking, connecting soundly again and again until he finally overcame her and shoved the knife between her ribs?

  Maybe they would never find her body, never know that she carried a child. Marcus would never know how much she loved him. The sudden ache of it all overwhelmed her, and she sobbed aloud.

  “No sniveling.” Lawson continued to push at her.

  Her stomach gave a heave. She stopped to steady it. He pushed again.

  “No, I’m serious,” she said. “Give me a minute. I’m going to be sick.”

  With the threat of nausea imminent, she didn’t care what he might threaten her with—death or dismembering. Nothing mattered but to calm the overwhelming urge welling up inside her.

  He nudged. She ignored him, spreading her feet to lend stability as she tried to take a deep breath. He pushed. And that was it. She fell to her knees and nearly lost control, but she remembered to breathe deeply and hum, a trick Ben had taught her to ward off nausea on their passage to India. Breathe deeply and hum. It helped.

  “If I could just lean against the tree a moment, no more than a moment, to catch my breath,” she said, getting back to her feet.

  He let her lean. That was it. She knew she wasn’t going down without at least trying to fight. She rubbed her binding against the tree trunk. Subtle. She couldn’t let him see her moving. It worked; the rope loosened. She held it with her fingers so that it wouldn’t slip and give her away.

  “Thank you. I think I’ll be able to move much faster now.”

  “At last,” he said. “Move along then.”
r />   “Mr. Lawson?” she said, beginning to bob on her feet as Marcus had taught her, left to right, left to right.

  “Is that some kind of dance? Move on.”

  “No.” She dropped her ropes and showed her hands, free at last. “It’s from boxing.”

  And before he could react, she threw a left hook and hit him clean across the jaw. He staggered back, stunned.

  And then, she heard the report of a rifle and shouts, and she tried to look up but another wave rocked her frame. She kept humming and focusing on each breath, in and out. Just as she thought she’d managed to contain herself, chaos in the form of Marcus Thorne descended.

  In a flash, she saw him bounding through the trees at Oliver Lawson. Ignoring the knife, he grabbed the man by the collar and pounded him, a right hook, a left jab, and the knife dropped right out of Lawson’s hand. One more jab, and Lawson himself fell backward into the leaves.

  Apparently satisfied that there would be no more trouble from Lawson, Marcus rose, brushing the dust from his hands, and took her in his arms. “Damned good left hook you have there.”

  “Marcus.” She fell into his arms. “I’m so glad to see you. Apparently, mine wasn’t quite good enough. I needed a little help. You found me just in time.” Not caring if his brother was watching, she kissed Marcus full on the lips.

  She shook her hands, trying to restore the circulation.

  Marcus gripped her wrists, gently massaging her raw, tender skin. “He hurt you. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him. I’m so glad we found you. I don’t know what I would have done.” His voice broke, choked with raw emotion. “I love you, Eve. I’ve loved you all along.”

  “I love you, too,” she said. “I thought you would never find me, that I would never have the chance to tell you.”

  She could have stood forever in his arms.

  ***

  Later, after the doctor had looked Eve over and declared her in sound condition, Lucy helped her to her room where she’d drawn a bath and laid out the glorious silver-beaded evening dress Eve had bought in London.