Eloisa's Adventure

by King, Rebecca

  “Why?” The grunt was barely audible in the wind.

  “Pardon?”

  Simeon dug deep for his patience. “Why are you going to the castle?” he called.

  Eloisa sniffed, then wished that she hadn’t when she realised how inelegant she was by doing so. She looked at her soiled skirts and reminded herself that manners didn’t really matter given the state she was in. It was doubtful that he had heard her over the howling winds anyway.

  Simeon saw her lips move, and strained to hear what she had to say. The sight of those pink tinged lips moving almost silently was hypnotic. He found himself almost willing her to keep talking so he could watch them some more.

  “I had an accident on the road and need to get out of the storm for a while. Once it has eased I can find my way home.”

  Simeon studied her. He couldn’t quite make his mind up if she was going to cry, or start screaming like a banshee at him. One moment she looked lost and forlorn, and the next there was a flash of temper in her eyes. He found himself watching her chin tip skyward with such fierce determination that he mentally applauded her fortitude. His gaze ran the length of her.

  Fortitude or not, she is going to be ill wearing a dress like that, he mused silently. The pale oval of her face was far whiter than it ought to be, and her shivers had increased threefold in the few scant minutes they had been talking. He wondered if she had been out for a walk and had gotten lost.

  “Where is home?” he asked with a frown.

  “Hollywell,” she replied, and watched his brows lift.

  “Where in Hollywell?”

  “The Rectory,” she snapped. She glanced around them pointedly, silently reminding him that this was hardly the place for a chat.

  Simeon glanced at the empty field they were in. “That’s miles away. Have you walked all that way?”

  Eloisa shook her head.

  “What’s your name?”

  She studied him for a moment as though trying to decide if he was trustworthy enough to confide in. Given their circumstances though, it was difficult not to keep talking. It helped to stop her teeth from chattering.

  “Eloisa Delaney.”

  “Well, Miss Eloisa Delaney, you have got yourself into a fine pickle, haven’t you?”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Talk about state the obvious,” she muttered bleakly. It didn’t take a genius to work that one out given their current circumstances.

  “What was that?” he called. He bit his lip to stop his smile from spreading. He knew exactly what she had said, and admired her spirit, and her ingenuity with the English language.

  “Nothing.”

  They both glanced up at the flash of lightning that lit the sky. She clutched her elbows in an attempt to keep them still when another gust of wind made her shiver.

  Simeon studied her bare shoulders and cursed his luck. It appeared that he now had a damsel in distress to contend with. Although she didn’t know it, the only place of refuge had more dangers within the stone confines than the thunderstorm had lightning bolts. Still, his conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave her out in the storm and there really was nowhere else he could take her to.

  “How did you get here?” he demanded almost conversationally, partly just to see that spark of annoyance back in her eyes again.

  Eloisa sighed impatiently and glared at him. If she didn’t know better she would suspect that he was delaying her arrival at the castle on purpose. She was soaked and going to catch influenza if she didn’t get out of this wind soon. Either that or they were going to get struck by lightning which, from the look of the man beside her, was something that would most probably not affect him. Dressed from head to foot in a long black cloak, seated astride an equally black horse, he looked like the devil incarnate. It was difficult not to step back and keep on going.

  His entire face was cast in shadow. She couldn’t even see his chin move because it was hidden in the shadows of his wide brimmed hat. She tried to reassure herself that he posed no threat to her. That he was just curious, that was all, but knew she would only be fooling herself. She was, after all, single, unchaperoned, and in the middle of nowhere. To cap it all, she was now also in the presence of a dark and dangerous stranger.

  “Do you not have a chaperone?” He asked somewhat chidingly.

  Eloisa glanced about the field then lifted her brows at him. “Damn, I knew I had forgotten something,” she snapped.

  “How did you get here?” He really liked the fire in her stunning whisky coloured eyes. When her temper was piqued, they flashed at him so fiercely that he was curious to know how deeply that passion lay beneath the surface.

  “I came by carriage,” she declared waspishly. Her initial instinct had been to ignore him, but she wanted to get out of the rain. She eyed his horse in disgust. “As nice as this chat might be, I need to be going now.”

  While they had been talking, she had gone off the idea of going to the castle. With one last glare at him, she turned her back and made her way along the line of trees that ran alongside a driveway.

  “No you don’t,” Simeon challenged and moved Humphrey around to stand in front of her. He nodded to Mitchelham over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t be going there, if I were you.”

  “Well, you are not me, are you?” she huffed. Deciding he was no gentleman, she moved around him and resumed her journey.

  Simeon watched her for a couple of minutes and he sighed deeply. A part of him wanted to let her make her way to the castle, knock on the door and then realise that nobody was home. Unfortunately, that would mean he had to remain outside and wait for her to leave. If he was honest, he quite liked her. The thought of leaving her to her own devices in the storm didn’t sit well with him. He wanted to know she would be alright and, to his disgust, he knew that the safest place she could be was with him.

  “Jesus,” he snorted in disgust. He wanted to leave her outside; he really did, but couldn’t run the risk that she would stumble upon something – or someone – who wouldn’t want her to leave again.

  “Come on,” he grunted when he pulled up alongside her again.

  “What?” Eloisa snapped. “I am not going to that castle now, so go away,” she threw him a scowl. “Whoever you are.”

  Simeon’s lips quirked, but he made no apology for his appearance. At least he had the common sense to dress for the weather. He eyed her bare shoulders and shook his head in disgust.

  “Get on,” he ordered. When she continued to stare at him, he sighed. “Did you hear me? I said, get on.”

  “I know you did,” Eloisa said as she stared at the horse in horror. “No. Thank you, but no.”

  “Do you prefer to drown instead?” he challenged. “Maybe get struck by lightning?”

  “Of course not, but I am not –” The rest of her sentence was cut off by her loud squeak when he suddenly leaned sideways in the saddle. Before she could protest, one long arm swept around her waist and she was swung off her feet. She was sitting sideways on the horse before she could blink. Her mouth opened, but only a squeak came out when he nudged the horse into a walk.

  Simeon rolled his eyes when she immediately began to slide off the saddle. He had no choice but to grab a hold of her so she didn’t fall off. When her gentle curves settled against him, the ready response of his body was so swift, so fierce, that he was momentarily speechless.

  What the hell? Nobody had ever affected him like this - ever. Why her? Why now? God, what was it about her that attracted him so?

  Eloisa gulped when the horse stumbled and she began to slide the other way off the saddle.

  “God, could you wear anything more slippery than this?” he grumbled as he grabbed her and held her against him a little tighter this time. He tried to ignore her delicate curves beneath his fingers, but his body responded anyway. Even through the thick folds of his cloak, and the several yards of silk and frothy material she wore, he was aware of every feminine curve with painful clarity.

  “It’s silk,�
�� Eloisa declared proudly.

  “I’ll just bet it is,” he groused. He cursed when the horse stumbled and he was forced to tighten his hold on her to prevent her hitting the ground.

  “I heard that,” she scolded when his blistering curse reached her ears.

  “Good,” he snapped. He felt, rather than saw, the shiver that swept through her, and swore in disgust again.

  “What are you doing?” she asked curiously when he drew the horse to a stop and cautiously released his hold on her waist. Once he was sure that she wouldn’t slither off, he eased back a little.

  “Being a gentleman, I think it’s called,” he grumbled as he draped his cloak over her shoulders.

  He cursed again, but mentally this time when an icy blast of wind immediately snatched all warmth from his skin while the rain soaked his clothing. He was as cold and wet as she was within seconds. If he wasn’t such a gentleman, would have asked for his cloak back.

  Eloisa sighed in delight when his deliciously soft cloak enveloped her. It was thick and made of the softest material which smelled faintly of sandalwood and lemon - him. It was a heady concoction which, together with the meagre trace of warmth he had left behind, gave her a small measure of comfort in a storm tossed evening.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  Now that the cloak had been removed from his face, she could see a chiselled jaw beneath a thin blade of his lips. At the moment they appeared to be tightly clamped together but she had no idea whether it was through anger or cold. It was still difficult to tell his age because she couldn’t see his eyes, but the husky rumble of his voice sent shivers of awareness down her spine that she couldn’t ignore.

  He wanted to say ‘you are welcome’, but would be lying, so nodded instead.

  Eloisa tried not to stare, but her gaze was ensnared by the shocking sight of him in his shirt sleeves. Not only in his shirt sleeves; but soaked to the skin. The rain had made his shirt almost transparent and had revealed a broad expanse of hair-smattered chest. Not only that but each ripple of muscle that moved as he rode hinted at a toned power that intrigued her. She swallowed and turned her gaze away from the dark patch of hair that protruded from the apex of his shirt. Unfortunately, curiosity, and a rising tide of desire, drew her gaze back toward it again and again.

  When the horse stumbled again, he tightened the arm he had around her waist once more. This time his curse did leave his lips, for no other reason than the bony protrusion of her hip had just poked into his loins. In spite of the cold, his treacherous body roared to life. Unfortunately, there was damned all he could do to ease the discomfort apart from get off the horse and walk for a while. He rather suspected that if he that, she would fall off the bloody animal anyway. The last thing he wanted, or needed, was a troublesome female on his hands with an injury. In order to keep her on the horse, he had no choice but to stay with her and suffer in silence.

  He eyed the gentle sweep of her cheek now that she was closer. In some ways, he rather wished the light was better so that he could see her properly. Although he warned himself that he couldn’t care who she was, he wanted to know, and see, more.

  Eloisa could feel him staring at her. To begin with, she ignored him but when she couldn’t stand it a moment longer she turned a glare upon him. Her gaze was immediately dragged down to the contrast between his tanned flesh and the white shirt he wore.

  His cough drew her attention upward. A shiver snuck down her spine when she saw the dark voids of his eyes beneath the hat. Strangely, she didn’t feel frightened.

  “Are you alright?” She asked.

  Simeon snorted. “Tickety boo.”

  He forced himself to turn his attention toward getting them to Mitchelham. It was better for both of them if he packed her off to wherever she came from the first chance he got. All he had to do until then was keep his hands to himself and make sure that she didn’t venture off anywhere on her own. It sounded simple. But, when lightning highlighted Mitchelham in all of its gothic glory, he realised just how damned difficult the next few hours were going to be.

  “Sorry,” he growled when Eloisa began to slither off the saddle again. When he looked into her eyes, there was no discomfort there, just curiosity he knew would be foolish to encourage. In an attempt to thwart her questions he coughed and purposely kept his gaze disinterested as he turned toward Mitchelham.

  Eloisa could feel the annoyance positively radiate off him although couldn’t be entirely certain if he was mad at her or just generally grumpy. After all, she hadn’t asked for his cloak – he had given it to her. She hadn’t asked to ride on his horse – he had arrogantly swept her off her feet. How could he be angry about anything she had done? She had patiently answered his questions, in spite of the weather. Even while being rained on, she had indulged his need to chat. What possible reason could he have to be so annoyed?

  He also seems to be going in the same direction, she mused wryly when he guided the horse toward Mitchelham. That thought made her frown.

  “Don’t do that,” he ordered.

  “What?”

  “Move.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this sodding dress is slippery. If this horse, or you, makes one sudden move, we are all going to end up in a heap on the floor.”

  The sheer frustration of having someone so stunning in his arms, and having to deny himself, didn’t sit well with him. As a result of his frustration, his anger grew. He rather wished he could get his hands on the wretch who was haunting the corridors of Mitchelham because he would give them a thrashing they would never forget.

  “Sorry,” Eloisa murmured.

  “Don’t cry,” he sighed in disgust when her lips began to quiver. “For God’s sake, don’t cry on me,” he pleaded. “I hate tears.”

  “I am not going to,” she snapped somewhat affronted at his assumption. “I am sorry you have been put out by my presence. However, I cannot remember asking you to bring me here. I am perfectly capable of walking, you know.”

  Simeon studied the driveway to Mitchelham over the top of her head. “Unfortunately for you, I am a gentleman. I am not going to go home and leave you out in one of my fields,” he chided, somewhat more malleable now that the journey was almost over.

  “Where is home?” she asked cautiously. Everything within her was poised for his answer. She knew, deep inside, what he was going to say even before his mouth opened. She looked up just in time to see him nod toward the castle nestled in the trees.

  “That’s your house.” Her voice was incredulous.

  Simeon nodded. “It is. I have recently acquired it.”

  “You bought it?” The idea was preposterous to Eloisa. Why on earth would anyone want to spend their money on such a monstrosity was anyone’s guess.

  “I inherited it.”

  Eloisa sighed and studied the top of one of the turrets that protruded proudly above the tops of the trees. She didn’t quite know what to say to him. It’s a lovely house, maybe? Or, did your relative hate you that much?

  A deep sense of foreboding settled around her, and urged her to run for her life. It was too late to do anything about leaving now. The castle’s owner had his arms locked firmly around her. Unless she was prepared to make a scene, she had to go to the place she dreaded the most, with the man who unnerved her more than anyone ever had.

  “It’s huge,” she replied weakly.

  “I didn’t say I liked it,” he mused wryly when he heard the overly polite tone of her voice.

  “Before we go in, there is something I want to warn you about,” he said. He took a moment or two to choose his words carefully. He didn’t want to scare her unduly. However, neither did he want her to be completely ignorant of the dangers she faced.

  Eloisa waited for him to tell her that as soon as the weather picked up he wanted her out of the castle – and quickly. She wasn’t prepared for what he said instead.

  “There are – suspicions – about how my uncle died,” he declared quietly.
>
  “Your uncle?”

  He studied the trees beside them as he spoke and dipped his head so he could lower his voice yet she could still hear him through the wind.

  “My Uncle George used to own the house. He died in suspicious circumstances,” he murmured.

  Eloisa shivered both from his words and the warm fog of his breath against her ear. She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer heavenward that she wouldn’t turn her head sideways and embarrass herself.

  “You mean that he was murdered?” she whispered and nodded toward Mitchelham. “In there?”

  She turned slightly accusatory eyes on the stone building that was now visible through the trees and realised then just how much danger she was in. Unfortunately though, she couldn’t quite decide if that danger came from the horse or the man beside her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  She stared at him in stunned disbelief. “How?”

  “He was found dead in the conservatory out back. He had ingested some poison apparently.”

  Eloisa frowned. “What kind of poison?”

  Simeon frowned at her. “Strychnine.”

  “How?” She looked at him but could tell from the blank look on his face that he didn’t understand. “Did he eat something with it in, or was it in his drink?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Well, yes. I mean, if it is in something he has drunk, he could have misread medicine bottles or something. Some medicines have strychnine in them, you know. If he took too much of a medicine that contained Strychnine, it could conceivably poison him.”

  Simeon’s respect for her grew. “As far as I know, he wasn’t on any medication.”

  Although he didn’t tell her, he decided to take another look through his uncle’s belongings for any trace medicine. Before he left for Cumbria, he was also going to take the time to speak to his uncle’s doctor to see if George had been on any powders or anything.

  He turned his attention back to the woman in his arms. If he was honest, he was impressed by her logic.