by Ari Thatcher
Everyone chuckled and Mrs. Hardie waved him away.
“May I have the pleasure of walking with the young ladies?” Ewan asked.
“Can I trust you with them?” Grandmama teased.
“We’ll join them,” Mrs. Hardie said.
Tavish leaned down to speak to his wife. “Are you certain you’re well enough?”
“I’m fine, dear. I will enjoy the exercise.”
Ewan offered an arm to Lady Agnes and her sister and strolled away from the table. His brother and sister-in-law followed. “I thank you both for your discretion.”
“Has Mr. Lennox found the man who shot you? Is it truly safe for you to be in Society? This is a small gathering, of course, but there are many places where a villain might hide.” Agnes realized she was gripping Ewan’s arm tightly and relaxed her hand.
“I wouldn’t be here if I feared I’d endanger others.”
“Does this mean Mr. Lennox has caught the man?” Matilda asked.
“No. We will soon, however. We have a suspect in mind.”
Agnes again clamped down on Ewan’s arm. “I hate to think you or your brother might be killed.”
Ewan slowed when the path got wider and Tavish and his wife joined the trio.
Tavish spoke first. “Thank you for not saying anything to yer grandmother.”
“And thank you for taking such good care of my husband,” his wife added. “And Ravenscliffe, of course.”
“How could we not, Mrs. Hardie?” Agnes responded.
“Cecily, please. Since I have you to thank for my husband’s life, I hope we can be friends.”
They paused in the shade of a large oak. Agnes reluctantly dropped Ewan’s arm, holding back a sigh. “I’m happy to call you friend, but we leave soon to return home. We’ll be in London for the Season, though. Perhaps we’ll see you there?”
“I’m afraid I’m not feeling well enough to travel at the moment, but I might in a month or two.”
“I hope it’s not a serious ailment.” Matilda inched her way back from the group.
“Nothing of the sort.” She looked at Tavish, her face glowing with love. “It’s a much happier occasion.”
Delight for the couple battled with jealousy, but Agnes kept her smile. “I’m happy for you.”
Tavish nudged his brother. “Ravenscliffe has reason to travel to London soon. Perhaps you’ll cross paths with him.”
Ewan cleared his throat. “It will be a short visit. No time for calls.”
Agnes felt her heart drop. “It will be difficult to leave you now that we are friends, Cecily. I hope you’ll call if you are in Town.”
When they continued down the path, Agnes found herself alone with Ewan. Matilda had joined a group of their friends, and Tavish and Cecily lagged behind.
“Do you believe Lennox will arrest the shooter soon? I hate to think he might make an attempt on your life again.” Agnes peered around her bonnet to see Ewan’s face.
“I’m certain of it. You may put your fears at ease.”
“I shall try.”
He met her gaze. “You sound truly concerned. Was my brief visit in your folly so memorable?”
Agnes lowered her chin, holding her breath at the stabbing pain in her chest. He felt nothing of the sort of emotion she did.
The tone of Ewan’s voice softened. “I’m sorry. I’m used to distancing myself from respectable ladies and their dreams of a future with me. After all you did for me, I can’t put you into that group.”
Patting her hand where it rested on his sleeve, he added, “Although, I suppose you might still be considered respectable after having rendezvoused in the woods with a rakehell several times.”
“I—”
His laugh was deep and rich, but not loud enough to draw attention. “There’s the brave woman I remember. I fear for the gentlemen in London when you descend upon them.”
“Most of them keep to themselves when I’m nearby. Matilda says I should be more agreeable. I find them quite dull.”
Ewan made a sharp turn between an elephant and a bird topiary, bringing Agnes with him. They were sheltered by willows there, unnoticed by the others on the path.
Agnes held her breath. What was he planning?
He led her behind a stone dovecote. There, he drew her into his arms. “Are you hoping they’ll do this?”
With no more warning, he captured her lips. Agnes was unable to resist the fury of the heat his body sent through hers. He smelled nothing like he had in the woods, unwashed and in dirty clothing. The scent of polished leather and earthy sandalwood assaulted her now.
She stood frozen, unable to push him away as she knew she should. She could think of nothing but the feel of his plundering lips. The way his hands held her captive. A very willing captive.
A very foolish captive.
Agnes pushed against his firm chest.
Ewan dropped his arms and stepped away, raking a hand through his hair. “Can you forgive me? I lost my head.”
She couldn’t pretend outrage. “I believe it was quite firmly pressed against mine.”
Spinning to face her, his jaw went slack. He laughed loudly.
“Hush, someone will hear you.”
“I’m still not certain I heard you say what I think you did. You are not the typical young miss I encounter.”
Her gaze dropped and her smile went away. He’d discovered her biggest fault. He’d never have her for a wife. “You now understand why the men in London avoid me.”
“Avoid you? They must be daft. I find your company delightful.”
She waited, but he said nothing more on the subject. After studying her with his thoughts carefully guarded, he said simply, “I must return you to your grandmother before she realizes you’re missing.”
***
The next day, Grandmama took the girls on morning calls to say good-bye to their friends. At their third stop, Agnes’s world fell apart.
She and Matilda sat to one side of the drawing room with a friend, talking of the men who’d attended the picnic.
Matilda suddenly nudged Agnes and nodded toward where Grandmama sat with their hostess. The two matrons whispered, their heads together, both looking in Agnes’s direction.
It could have been Matilda’s direction, or the other girl’s, but Agnes could feel the chastisement in Grandmama’s narrowed gaze.
She knew.
What she knew was unclear, but they’d already overstayed the polite length of a casual call, so Agnes would find out too soon for her liking.
Once they were seated in their carriage, Grandmama’s pinched expression made Agnes sink deeper into the leather seat. “You’re the object of much speculation this morning.”
There was no doubt she wasn’t speaking to Matilda. “Oh? How surprising.”
Matilda didn’t even snort at the audacity of Agnes’s response.
“It is said you and Lord Ravenscliffe were more…congenial that one would expect on first acquaintance.”
Relief tampered some of Agnes’s fear. No one had seen them kiss. She glanced at her sister from the corner of her eye and received a silent nod. “We have an acquaintance with Lord Ravenscliffe and Mr. Hardie.”
“An acquaintance. Upon whose introduction? Why do I know nothing of this?” Grandmama’s voice grew sharper with each word.
Agnes squeezed her eyes shut. “We weren’t formally introduced.”
Hearing her grandmother’s gasp, Agnes continued. “They were shot in the woods and Matilda and I had O—er, one of the men bring a wagon and take them to the folly. I didn’t know if the man or men who’d shot them was nearby.”
“Any reasonable person would have fled the area for just that reason.”
“I couldn’t. Lord Ravenscliffe was bleeding. His horse had bolted. He might have died if we hadn’t helped him.”
“It is not your duty to rescue anyone. I won’t point out all the reasons I could give for why you acted foolishly. I’m sure Matilda made them clear mor
e than once.”
Agnes nodded. “She felt we should tell you. But Lord Ravenscliffe begged us not to, for fear of the shooter discovering him and his brother. We did send for the magistrate. Eventually.” She ducked her head again.
“I thank the Lord you came to some sense. Why didn’t you have Albert take them to Ravenscliffe? That would have been the wise move, once you’d seen to any serious injury.”
“We didn’t know who they were until they were ready to leave.”
Grandmama lifted her gaze to the carriage roof. “I won’t ask how long that was. I will only ask one thing. Did either of them compromise you?”
“No, Grandmama, I can assure you they were gentlemen,” Matilda said, jumping in.
“Be that as it may, we’ll move up your departure. You’ll leave in the morning. Prattle will only grow more scandalous as the tale gets round. I must tell your father to see you are married by summer.”
Chapter Six
On a whim, a very hopeful whim if he admitted it, Ewan rode the path to Mrs. Thomson’s property every morning for the next week.
Agnes was truly like no woman he’d met. He couldn’t say if she spoke so brazenly due to lack of tutoring or an impulsiveness she couldn’t restrain.
He suspected it was the latter. How impulsive was it to take two men under shelter without protection? If he were her father, he’d have her locked in her bedchamber until a man could be found to marry her. And then only release her on the morning she rode to the church.
He’d love to know her better. He knew how to keep her from running wild while still allowing her spirit to be free. She’d said they would travel to London soon. He’d missed his chance to see how well they suited.
After one such ride through the woods, Ewan continued to Invernochty to speak with Lennox.
Once he was seated in the man’s private office, Ewan spoke first. “What news do you have?”
“One of my men overheard two thugs in the pub. No names were mentioned, but it could be assumed they were discussing Walters’ next plan.”
Ewan nodded. “Was anything said about how they’d attempt to kill us this time?”
“Shooting, again. You must remain at home until Walters is caught. It’s too dangerous for you to ride. I’ll send word when there’s something you need know.”
Leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, Ewan shook his head. “I can’t hide in a foxhole while we wait for Walters to grow tired of this scheme of his.”
“I’m not asking you to do that. We are close to the end of this.”
“You’re not speaking of the end of my life, I hope.” Ewan grinned and sat back.
“What you do with your life after Walters is dealt with is in your hands.” Lennox walked to a cabinet. “Now, whisky?”
***
Sitting behind his desk in his dreary library, Ewan tried to focus his attention on the growing pile of bills before him. Walters might not have stolen money, but he’d frequented almost every shop in all of Aberdeen over a two-day period.
In spite of the burning anger in his gut, Ewan couldn’t bring himself to care about the money. All he cared about was Agnes and the way he’d felt kissing her.
He never stole kisses from a lady he didn’t know. He played it safe with older women, widows. Agnes likely had expectations now. Young ladies jumped from a kiss to marriage faster than a fox escaped into his burrow ahead of the hounds.
Was he ready to consider marriage? The idea made him want a whisky. A few whiskies.
No harm would come from traveling to London and spending time getting to know her better. From what he knew already, he’d either fall madly in love, or accept he was mad to consider settling down.
His relief when Tavish entered the library was immense. Tavish poured himself a drink and sat opposite the desk. Stacking his papers, Ewan placed them in a drawer to sort later. “How is Cecily faring? Is she still unable to leave her bed?”
Tavish grinned. “She can stay in bed for the next nine months, if she prefers. Stay until the babe is born. Whatever she wishes, I will provide. Cook sent up some biscuits and tea this morning, which seems to have helped some. It strikes me odd that women have such a difficult time bearing children. Can you imagine if sheep battled the same morning complaints, or cattle? No one would ever choose to raise them.”
“There are some who say the same about children. Loud, ill-mannered and foul-smelling—why would anyone want one?”
Tavish laughed. “I never knew you felt that way about babies. I’ll remember that when we visit come Christmastime. You will have the nursery in good order before we arrive?”
Ewan grinned back at him. “I didn’t refer to my own feelings. Of course your children will always be welcome here, although this Christmas is a bit early to expect the birth. I doubt Cecily will be up to traveling then.”
“She is so excited to spend the holidays at Ravenscliffe, I might not be able to keep her at home. Tell me, have you heard from the Wentworth sisters?”
“Why would I? They can’t write to us without drawing suspicion. I cannot call for the same reason. Mrs. Thomson can’t know Agnes allowed us to recover on her property.” Frowning, Ewan sat back, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepling his fingers. “It’s for the best.”
“Why do you sound as if you don’t believe that?”
“Mere foolishness on my part. It will pass.”
Tavish kicked one leg over the other knee. “I said much the same thing when I met Cecily. You see what became of my denial.”
“Mm-hmm. A wife who is deathly ill, and the prospect of a loud, ill-mannered, foul-smelling copy of oneself. Agnes had no more enchantment in me than she did the topiaries at the picnic.” His thoughts immediately went to what happened behind the dovecote that day. She’d been more than eager to share that intimate moment. He couldn’t dwell on that or Tavish would notice his distraction.
“Methinks he doth protest too much.” Tavish raised a hand to stop any interruption. “I’ve seen how young ladies look at you. They hang on your every word, every breath. That was part of the reason I fell in love with Cecily. She didn’t even notice you.”
“How romantic. Have you told her as much?”
“We’re not discussing my marriage.”
Ewan sat forward. “We’re not discussing my marriage, either.”
“No, we’re not. All I asked is if you’d seen the Wentworth sisters. Your own thoughts took you down the church aisle.” With a laugh, Tavish escaped the room before Ewan could throw anything at him.
***
Remaining close to the house was grating on Ewan’s nerves. That irritation was compounded by the presence of Walters at dinner each evening. Ewan almost wished the man would throw a vase at him in the hallway so they could end this game of fox and hound.
Walters didn’t even realize he was the fox in this situation. Ewan took small comfort knowing that. Lennox should know of any plans before they were acted upon.
Apparently Walters grew tired of waiting, too. At dinner, he invited Ewan to join him the next day. “A few of the lads and I are going fishing in the morning. You should join us. The stress of running the estate is wearing on you, I can see.”
Running the estate wasn’t Ewan’s current stress, and Walters was fully aware of it. Yet this was the perfect scheme to turn the tables on Walters’ plan.
“I should enjoy that.”
“Perhaps you’d care to join us, too, Tavish.”
Ewan jumped in before his brother could answer. “No, his wife needs him close by.”
Tavish frowned but remained silent.
“We won’t be far, just down to the lake. One of the footmen could easily find him if Cecily needs him.” Walters had the wide grin of an over-proud man living above his station. Which technically, he was.
“Ewan’s right. I should stay here with my wife.”
Cecily smiled and placed her hand on his.
Ewan noticed the small demonstration of
love and was torn by it. While gratified he could keep his brother safe to enjoy his love for many more years, Ewan felt an unfamiliar emptiness. He wanted someone who could say so much with the touch of her hand.
***
Immediately after dinner, Ewan sent word to Lennox about the fishing excursion the next morning. He gave the details, trusting Lennox to be waiting, hidden, at the lake before Walters arrived.
Never caring much for the sport, Ewan rode out the next morning with Walters and a pair of men he called friends. These “friends” were easily recognizable as working class by the rough fabric of their clothing and the worn elbows of their coats. Their trousers were ill-fitting and faded.
Somehow, the confirmation of what Ewan suspected from this outing gave him more confidence than fear. He was eager to end this.
“Do you suppose the fish are hungry this morning?” Walters asked as he baited his hook.
Ewan waited to see if two scroungy characters would respond, but they were deeply engrossed in untangling their fishing lines. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”
He cast his line, keeping one eye on the other men. He propped up his pole and took a seat on some rocks where he could see every move.
Walters attempted small talk, but Ewan quit responding when he grew tired of the game. When would they make their move? His muscles were twitching with the need to strike something, but he couldn’t make the first move.
“You have a bite,” Walters pointed out.
Ewan strode to where the finishing pole bobbed. The fish was a nuisance, as far as he was concerned. He picked up his net and took hold of his pole.
A pebble skittering across the shore behind him was all the warning he had, but he reacted immediately. He ducked and spun just in time to see a log approaching his head.
One of the lads swung the log so hard he fell off balance. Ewan threw a punch, hitting the man in his jaw. The other man held a rock overhead and was preparing to throw it. Ewan jumped to one side.
Where was Lennox?
Grabbing the log, Ewan swung it like a scythe in the direction of the nearest man.
Where was Walters?
Ewan missed, but the man fell in his attempt to avoid being hit. Brandishing his log, Ewan kept the two men far enough away to avoid their attacks. That also meant they were beyond his reach.