She was suddenly aware that Stephen wasn’t completely dressed. When had he unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt and where were his cravat and waistcoat? She tried to remember how he’d been dressed on horseback, but couldn’t recall. She’d been too busy studying his expression and manner.
He tugged his shirt out of his trousers and it fell open, revealing a well-muscled, masculine chest. Lucy’s throat was suddenly dry. She tried to sit up straight, but it was impossible without leaning into him, he was so close. The intense expression in his eyes now seemed almost crazed, and she sought a grip on her wild imagination. He was trying to help, that was all. That must be all. He wouldn’t dare compromise her; Derek would kill him.
She took a fortifying breath, knowing he couldn’t hear the thudding of her heart. “I’d rather you didn’t bind it. I’d rather you go to Stonecrest and bring help. Really, Stephen, I would much prefer it, and-and you don’t want to ruin your expensive shirt.”
He smiled and placed his hand on her leg, just below her knee. “Perhaps you have a garment I might use, something you could remove.”
His gaze slid over her, and Lucy felt another flush of heat that started in her chest and spread to the roots of her hair. No gentleman would ask a lady to remove articles of clothing under any circumstance, and the fear she’d been trying to stave off hit her full force, sending shivers of alarm along her spine and throughout her body.
“I d-don’t have anything you c-can use,” she stammered. “I don’t want you to wrap my leg at all, I tell you. I just want you to go for help.”
“Are you saying you aren’t wearing any garments other than your shirt and trousers, or that you simply refuse to give them to me?”
She stared, unable to force her mouth open for a reply.
“Are you wearing anything under your shirt?”
“I-I won’t answer such a question and you shouldn’t ask it.”
“Take it off.”
She shook her head and tried to edge back on the cot, but there was nowhere to go.
Stephen snickered. “You’re only putting off the inevitable. You have no choice but to do as I say. I am, after all, bigger and stronger than you, and… I have a knife.”
He held up the knife, and she stared at the honed blade as fingers of fear clutched at her heart. Panic welled up in her when she realized no one would hear her if she screamed.
“You must stop this,” she pleaded. “Think of what you’re doing. Your reputation—think of your sister. You should leave now, before anyone comes. Please, just go. I promise I won’t say anything if you’ll just go. Someone is coming for me. Ahote will have returned to Stonecrest and someone is surely coming now.”
“You give your stable boy too much credit. He won’t know what to do or where to go. As far as anyone knows, you took the road to London to catch up to your husband; that is, if you told anyone of your plans. Either way, no one will look for you here.” He slid a finger along the skin of her bared thigh.
“Ahhh, lovely Louisa,” he said softly. “I’ve dreamed about this ever since that night at dinner, when you flirted with me from across the table at the Bellingham house party. I’m sure you’ve dreamed about it too.”
“I d-don’t—you mistook my meaning.” Self-recrimination invaded her panic. That blasted flirting. This might be all her fault. She had no idea flirtatious behavior affected men in such a manner. Oh, why had she gone along with Isabelle’s plan?
Stephen smiled shrewdly. “You may protest all you like, if it makes you feel better, but we both know the truth. Your illness, your miscarriage, if I may be so bold, was badly timed, wasn’t it? For both of us. Even so, I thought I would sneak back around that night after I took Isabelle home. I would have, if you hadn’t alerted me to the bodyguard. I could always count on Derek to make things difficult.”
“I don’t understand. I never flirted with you, not really. Please…”
“Come, now. We both know better. I spent that entire dinner in a state of arousal. Watching you, wanting you. I had to stay seated for a full ten minutes after you left, lest everyone see the evidence of my thoughts.”
“Y-you misunderstood. I was flirting to make Derek jealous…” Her words died away when Stephen’s features twisted into what she’d come to recognize as jealous rage. “Please,” she whispered. “Derek will kill you for this.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about him. He won’t be back. Ever.”
“What do you mean?” A sob caught in her throat. “You didn’t…”
Stephen chuckled. “Do I look like a murderer to you? Does that look like the hand of a murderer?” he asked, nodding toward the hand splayed across her thigh. He stroked her skin, inching his fingers upward under the shortened trouser leg. “It’s the hand of a lover, and I’m just as good a lover as Derek, you know. I’ve had all the women he’s had. More, in fact. Countless more. In England, anyway. Except for you. I would tell you to ask any one of them about my prowess, but you’ll find out for yourself soon enough.”
Lucy fought hysteria. She could no longer even think of what might happen to herself as her fear for Derek took over all thought. “What about Derek?” she asked, swallowing another panicked sob. “What did you mean about Derek?”
“Oh, that. He’s going to meet with an accident on his way back.”
“Back from where? When? What will happen?”
Stephen smirked. “If I knew exactly where and when, I wouldn’t tell you. My messenger lies in wait even now. But I’m so glad it’s to happen on his way back to Stonecrest. I did so want to make sure he got to my town house and read the note I left for him, the one that says I’m making love to his wife at this very moment. Just imagining his rage makes this exciting beyond belief. He was outraged when he read the note I had delivered, wasn’t he?”
Blood pounded in Lucy’s ears as she tried to think of something, anything, to deter Stephen. “Why are you doing this? Derek is your friend.”
“Not friend. Never friend. I was never in his league,” Stephen said bitterly. “They made fun of me in school.”
“Those were schoolboy antics. You’re men now. He thinks highly of you, very highly of you.”
“I’m tired of talking about Derek. Neither you nor I can do anything about his fate. All we can do is enjoy this time together, and it will be so much more enjoyable for you if you don’t fight me, Lucy. I would really hate to hurt you,” he added, pushing her back against the cot.
With her only thought being that she must get to Derek in time, she struggled against Stephen, using all her strength, but he merely laughed. He grabbed both her wrists in one hand and pushed her back, forcing her arms above her head.
“Unless you want me to bind your hands, you should cease resisting, my dear. Really, you’ll enjoy this so much, you won’t mind at all.”
He pinned her against the cot and lowered his head. She felt hot breath on her neck, and a wave of nausea sickened her stomach. She prayed to God to help her get through this. She knew she could do it if only Derek would be waiting when it was over. But if what Stephen said was true, Derek would never be there again. She would never see his teasing smile, never feel his strong arms around her.
A suffocating despair squeezed her heart. She had finally realized that all she wanted for the rest of her life was to love Derek and be loved by him, but now he too would be taken from her. She didn’t want to go on without him, without sharing all the good and the bad of both their lives, and so she changed her prayer.
She prayed that she would die.
Chapter 35
Derek led Ahote off the path and into the woods, and tied him to a tree out of sight. The tracks he’d followed proved Lucy had been thrown and another rider had carried her from that spot to the cottage, the same cottage where the shooter had tied his horse during the race. He realized who that other rider was when he approached the structure.
Stephen’s horse was tied to the post.
A bitter, foul ang
er rose in his throat like acrid bile, and he fought the jealousy that followed. His emotions warring, he told himself again that he must trust Lucy, he would trust Lucy, no matter how incriminating circumstances might look.
Keeping low to the ground, he made it to an uncovered window and peeked inside. That quick glimpse sent his mind reeling. He could see only part of Lucy. She was lying on a cot, and Stephen was sitting beside her, blocking his view. But he could see enough to know she wasn’t completely dressed—there was a flash of bare leg—and Stephen appeared to be kissing her.
He sank to a squat and staved off his emotions, determined to use logic, as he would in any confusing situation which didn’t involve Lucy. If he trusted Lucy—and he did—then what he saw was not what it seemed, and he prayed he was right, because it seemed as though the two had planned a tryst, knowing he would be on his way to London after reading Stephen’s note. So, if things weren’t as they seemed, how were they?
Lucy took a fall. That much he knew.
And Stephen carried her to the cottage. If they hadn’t planned a tryst, then what was Stephen doing in the woods? Had he lured Lucy there, followed her there, or was their meeting perfectly innocent with Stephen passing by in time to rescue her?
He discounted the latter immediately. The messenger said his note came from Stephen in London, yet Derek followed on the man’s heels and never ran into Stephen on the only road of travel. That meant Stephen was already here when the note was delivered. And Stephen had evidently known the location of the cottage. Every nerve in Derek’s body came alive as he realized the implications.
He crept around to the front door of the cottage and slowly turned the knob. It was unlocked, and he flung the door open, standing in the doorway, his body rigid with contained fury.
Stephen jerked to a sitting position and whipped around to face the door, jaw hanging and eyes wide. “It’s not what it looks like,” he said quickly.
“What is it then?” Derek asked, his voice deceptively soft. His heart thumped with such force he thought it might burst from his chest. Stephen was only half dressed, and Derek took a couple of steps into the room to see around him to Lucy. Her face was bloodless and her expression was a frightening mixture of terror and overwhelming relief, confirming his fear that Stephen was up to no good.
“My shirt—I was taking it off to bind her leg,” Stephen said. “She was injured when that blasted horse threw her. The fool thing went crazy over a gunshot, just like before.”
Just like before. Stephen’s words echoed through Derek’s mind. He hadn’t told Stephen about the other incident and he doubted very much that Lucy had. That meant… But that was insane, wasn’t it? And if Stephen was the shooter during the race, then who was shooting this time? Or did Stephen shoot from a distance today and then come conveniently to Lucy’s rescue?
He took another step toward the cot and Stephen’s body stiffened.
“Where were you while all this was happening?” Derek asked.
“We were chatting on the lane. I took off after her, of course, but her fool horse threw her before I could get close enough to do anything.” Stephen leaned back on the cot, bracing his body with his arm nonchalantly, but Derek saw Lucy’s gaze drop to the cot behind Stephen’s back.
Stephen was hiding something, and it had to be a weapon. Seeing the cut material on the floor, he deduced it was Stephen’s hunting knife. He took a step closer. “Get up,” he said to Stephen.
A loud click came from the doorway. Derek recognized the intruder’s flowery scent without turning around, and everything fell into place.
“Tell me, Lady Foxworth, how long have you been a French operative?” he asked before turning to face her.
For a moment, the only sound was that of Lucy’s astonished cry, and then Isabelle Foxworth glided fully into the room, looking every inch the respectable lady of London society, except for the pistols she held, one in each hand.
“You are very quick to grasp a situation, Captain. Or should I say your Grace? You will not mind if I ask you to move aside? I am afraid you are obstructing my view.”
Derek took two steps backward without moving much to the side. He needed to stay as close as possible to the knife.
“Mes amies were disappointed to lose those lovely muskets, but they were even more distressed to lose your ship. We heard such glowing reports of your design, obviously all true. Three ships against one, and still you escaped. You have proved to be a worthy opponent, your Grace, but I tire of the game. We have wasted much time searching for the incriminating paper your father gave to Philip Barrick, when it has become obvious it no longer exists.”
“What happened to my father?” Lucy asked. “Was he truly murdered by a highwayman?”
“Ah, Lucy,” said Isabelle with a sad smile. “Your father was so like you. Always ready to think the best of people. He did not believe the duke’s suspicions about members of London society committing treason, of course, especially when the duke said Nathan was involved. Philip sent a message straight to Nathan with the story and showed him the incriminating proof Dorrington supplied. That was your father’s mistake. The poor, trusting fool.”
“His mistake… w-w-hat do you mean?”
“Once we learned of their suspicions, and the proof, both Dorrington and your father had to die. If only your father had not been so honorable, so willing to turn his own brother over to the law.” She shrugged. “Your uncle was not involved in the smuggling, of course. That would have constituted actual work. Nathan’s forté is blackmail, and he is quite useful when we need magistrates to look the other way.
“Unfortunately, my man did not find that simple scrap of paper after he shot your father, and neither did Nathan, though he searched Stonecrest many times. I hoped that would be the end of the matter, but I could not be certain.”
She nodded toward Derek. “I knew you would return to England upon your father’s death, and there was the possibility you would find something amongst his papers. I needed someone within your circle of family and friends, someone you might talk to. Stephen was easy to seduce, and his jealousy made him perfect for the part. I did not even need to trick him. He was more than eager to help.”
“Jealousy?” Derek asked, looking at Stephen. “What did you ever have to be jealous of?”
Stephen sneered, his eyes seething. “Your title, your money, your business, your wife, the muck in your goddamned stable. You’ve lived your life exactly as you pleased, everything falling into your lap. Want to parade about as a privateer? How nice that you have the finest ship in the world at your disposal. Get caught in a compromising situation? Lucky for you it turns out to be with Lady Louisa, a woman with everything a man could want in a wife, including a fortune of her own. You disgust me. Always so sure of yourself. Always able to handle every situation. It’s not enough that you had everything else going for you; you had to have looks and appeal too. Even my own father preferred you to me.”
The bitterness and hatred in Stephen’s voice shook Derek. How could he have not guessed Stephen’s true feelings? How well Stephen had hidden himself behind manners and charm.
Isabelle chuckled mirthlessly. “Jealousy. Such a powerful emotion, n’cest pas, your Grace? Even I am not above it. I must admit I was jealous when you turned down my offer at the ball, especially since my plan was to seduce you and become your confidante. It was not necessary since I had Stephen on my side, but I did so look forward to the seduction. I was disappointed when you said no, but I rallied well, did I not? Coming up with that nonsense about being attracted to Lucy, suggesting we enjoy her together?”
Lucy gasped.
“Really, it was such fun toying with you that I could not resist. It did cause you a recurring worry, did it not? At the Bellingham country estate, for instance, when I spilled wine on Lucy’s gown?”
Derek said nothing as he realized his jealousy had made him an easy target for manipulation. In fact, what with his jealousy, Stephen’s, and that of his own f
ather, the carefully plotted masquerade hadn’t stood a chance.
That was the past. He must deal with the present. He must come up with a plan to get away safely with Lucy. If only he could get his hands on that knife. He needed to keep Isabelle busy talking so that he could consider his options. It did not seem a difficult task. She was more arrogant than he’d realized; she enjoyed boasting about her manipulations.
“I knew I must plant the idea of marriage by telling you that Nathan could be bought,” she continued. “How perfectly it all worked out, with you and Lucy together at Stonecrest, and both Nathan and Stephen reporting to me,” she went on.
Maybe her arrogance was the way out. She had not planned on Stephen’s betrayal, had she? Recalling the fury in her eyes when she first entered the cottage and took in Stephen’s appearance, he thought not. He took a deep breath, praying he was not making a mistake. He turned his head to look at Stephen.
“You’ve been involved all along?”
“You really are surprised, aren’t you?” Stephen’s expression was smug.
“But you wanted me to go to the authorities. You argued with me for half an hour.”
“And got nowhere, just as I expected. The more I argued, the more stubbornly you refused. Further proof of your arrogance, as if I needed any.” Stephen smirked. “I’d planned to have that conversation with you at some point, just in case you were suspicious of my eagerness to be involved in your scheme, but I knew I had to be careful. If I suggested that you go to the authorities at the wrong time, you might actually consider it. As soon as you mentioned the maps I knew it was the perfect time. You’d never give over the investigation after uncovering such an exciting new clue.”
“And the smuggled goods in the crates? I suppose you planned in advance which ones to check.”
“Of course. I couldn’t take the chance you’d check on your own. By leading the inspection, I had control.”
“You also got to criticize the fact that I hadn’t thought to inspect the goods, though I did plan to inspect crates once they were aboard and out of sight of strangers.”
Duke Of Deception (Wentworth Trilogy) Page 30