by Hatch, Donna
Without a doubt, he had to be the most heartless cad in all of England.
He let himself out of the room and moved to the nearest alcove. As he flattened against a wall, he waited, hardly daring to breathe. He knew full well she may realize his deception and sound an alarm, yet he doubted he could bring himself to knock a woman unconscious even if she should prove to be a danger to him.
One of his former shipmates had taught him a Chinese method of rendering a victim unconscious with only a touch, but Jared had never tried it on anyone before. With pounding heart, he waited, sickened that he was even considering attacking a woman.
Of course he wouldn’t. He’d simply run like the devil.
Several moments later, the girl came out. She let out a dreamy sigh. Then, pulling her dressing gown closer around her, she moved to the rear of the house. Her light footfalls on the servants’ stairway faded. Once again, the house fell silent.
After letting his breath out in relief, Jared turned the opposite direction from where he’d encountered the girl. A library. Again, it might be too obvious, but he’d try. The first few compartments he discovered, one behind a picture and another in the mantle, revealed nothing interesting.
As Jared moved across the floor, he paused. Listening, he took one step back. The floor creaked oddly at that place. It sounded hollow. He knelt and traced the outline of two suspiciously symmetrical floorboards. Using a pocketknife, he pried up the two floorboards that revealed a compartment.
Inside sat a small, wooden locked box.
His pulse quickened. He reached in and lifted the box. After picking the lock, he opened the lid. A stack of papers, all written in numbers and Greek symbols, met his eyes.
Anticipation raced through his veins and his heart pounded. This was it! This had to be what he sought; proof that Von Barondy was O Ladrão, the elusive fox he’d been hunting for over three years. He wanted to shout in triumph. All his work would soon pay off.
Then he would be free.
He lifted the papers from their hiding place, and traced the symbols with shaking fingers. Tingling with excitement, he rummaged through a small secretary desk until he found paper, pen and ink. He took a calming breath and set to work. After meticulously copying every character contained in the first two papers, he glanced at the mantle clock. Almost four in the morning. Servants would be rising soon.
Still reveling in the thrill of his victory, he sanded the ink and tucked the papers into his coat. Replacing everything with utmost care, Jared glanced about to ensure he hadn’t disturbed anything. He blew out the candle and waited with his ear to the door before he slipped back down to the kitchen. From a window, he watched the bobbing lantern of the guard and dogs pass by before he crept out of the house. He realized with alarm that the direction of the wind had changed. Aware of the dogs, he darted through the kitchen garden toward the back fence.
The dogs began barking with a ferocity that chilled his blood.
Jared tore across the yard. Shouting men and snarling, barking dogs pursued. He stumbled over an obstacle in his path but managed to keep on his feet. He steadied his balance and sprinted with renewed speed. The baying dogs drew closer.
As Jared reached the high stone fence, he launched himself upward. His fingers gained purchase on the top just as the jaws of the nearest dog closed over his leg, but the teeth grasped a fold of his breeches just above his boots. With pounding heart, he kicked backward and the cloth tore.
A gunshot roared. Stone debris exploded in every direction.
He scrambled up the wall. He threw himself off the top and landed hard on the ground on the other side. Rolling to his feet, he kept running.
The dogs’ barking fell further behind, but Jared ran without pause until he reached his horse tethered in the trees some distance from the house. As he vaulted up on the saddle, he looked back.
There was no sign or sound of pursuit. Still, he urged Aries to a full run.
With each mile he put between himself and the Von Barondy house, he relaxed. Then he grinned. Exhilarated, he threw back his head and laughed. Then he wished he could tell someone about it.
Elise would no doubt disapprove. Or would she?
He galloped to Brenniswick, circling the tiny village several times, alert for signs of pursuit. His muscles relaxed and his heart slowed, leaving only fatigue in its place.
By the time he arrived home, concealed the coded papers in his room, and changed out of his black clothing that surely would have sent his valet into vapors, his fatigue drove him straight to bed. He’d attempt to decipher the code after getting adequate rest tomorrow. Er, later today.
Despite his weariness, rest came fitfully. Images of Elise Berkley hovered before his eyes, taunting him, tempting him, preventing restful sleep.
He dreamed of her. He dreamed of touching her luscious body, losing himself in her sweetness. In the dream, she opened sleepy eyes. With a cry, she recoiled in horror from him as she saw him for the monster he truly was.
The dream changed, and Leandro held her captive. Leandro looked at Jared with malice and gleefully stabbed her just to spite him. She screamed.
Jared bolted up bathed in sweat.
****
“What makes you think I didn’t sleep last night?” Jared snarled at Greymore. The man looked altogether far too smug.
Greymore chuckled. “As you are in a decidedly foul mood today, I’ll assume it wasn’t pleasant activities that kept you awake?”
Jared muttered a rude accusation about Greymore’s parentage, but Greymore only laughed.
“Are you going to help me with this or not?” Jared shoved the paper into his hands.
Greymore took the paper and studied it, sobering. He glanced up at Jared. “Where did you get this?”
“From a box underneath a floorboard in Von Barondy’s house.”
Greymore whistled. “He wouldn’t have a coded message if he weren’t involved in criminal activity. Have you tried to break it?”
Jared shot him a glare that left Greymore holding up his hands in surrender. “All right, all right, I know; you wouldn’t have come to me if you hadn’t already tried.” He clapped Jared on the back. “Take heart, if we can’t crack it, we can always forward it to the main office in London.”
Jared loosened his cravat and nodded. They worked on the code for the remainder of the day without success. Greymore’s temper grew short, and Jared began to think they should concede the battle and send the code to London.
Mrs. Greymore entered with a whisper of skirts. “Mr. Greymore, perhaps we should feed your guest.”
Surprised, Greymore looked up at his wife. Immediately, his face softened and he beckoned to her. As if just now noticing the darkness outside the windows, he gave Jared a look of apology.
Mrs. Greymore smiled at Jared. “Won’t you please join us for a late dinner?”
“Thank you.” He glanced at Greymore. “I apologize for keeping your husband so long.”
“Secret business, no doubt.” Her smile turned knowing.
Jared raised a brow.
Greymore grinned at his wife. “You know I’m retired from government service. We’re merely looking over a bit of a puzzle.”
“Mmm.” She clearly did not believe them, but chose not to dispute it.
They dined on a simple meal and Jared relaxed as he traded stories with Greymore and his delightful wife. The more time Jared spent here, the more he realized he missed the simple joys of home and family. That he might obtain them seemed a tantalizing dream.
When had he turned into such a sentimental fool?
CHAPTER 10
Elise trotted Prince out of the manicured gardens. Once out in the open, she let him have his head and they galloped across the fields. She relaxed into Prince’s smooth gait, letting her body melt into his. How easy to lose herself in the pure joy of motion, the thrill of speed, the allure of freedom.
They reached the main road bordering her land. She’d ridden much further
than she’d planned. If she failed to return soon, Matthews would worry and no doubt lead a search party. She paused at the top of a rise and looked out over the land. The clear day allowed an unimpeded view.
A solitary rider cantered along the main road as it wound along the hills and vales, the figure little more than a speck in the distance. She let her eyes rove, taking in the green, rolling hills, the neatly furrowed fields, the faint shimmer of the ocean in the distance. She imagined herself a medieval queen surveying her kingdom, with brave knights vying for her favor.
Shaking her head at her fanciful thoughts, she turned Prince around and let him gallop toward home. A lurch in his gait gave the only warning before Prince stumbled and went down.
She sailed over Prince’s head, flailing, and landed hard. Sharp pain shot up her foot and leg.
The terrible scream of a horse sent chills through her limbs. She lay stunned, desperate to draw a breath. Her chest seized convulsively. Dark panic overtook her.
Finally, with a gasp, air flooded her lungs. Grateful to breathe, she opened her eyes. That chilling scream continued. Prince lay with his back to her, writhing and shrieking.
“Oh, Prince ….”
She tried to rise, but pain shot through her foot and up her leg. She crawled to him, calling him and murmuring comforting words. When she reached him, she caught him by the reins.
“Easy boy, easy. I’m here.”
She tore off her gloves and rubbed his quivering neck. Under her touch, his screams faded to cries of distress. She ran her hand down his neck and heaving side, her eyes following the lines of his legs. His left foreleg hung in a sickening angle, broken beyond repair. Her stomach lurched.
“No. Oh, no.” Her eyes burned.
“Elise!” a distant voice called.
Only then did she hear hoof beats. A blue roan galloped toward her, barely discernable through her tears. The rider reined and leaped from his horse. He fell on his knees at her side. Her watery vision cleared enough to reveal Jared Amesbury.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded urgently.
“No. But Prince has broken a leg,” she managed through her tears.
He turned his head toward Prince and let his breath out slowly. His sorrowful gaze rested on her. “He’ll have to be put down.”
With tears running down her cheeks, she rubbed her hand over Prince’s quivering sides. The stallion whimpered.
“I’m sorry,” Jared added.
Through her grief came the burning need to know why he’d fallen. She’d ridden over her land countless times without mishap. She looked back at the divots made by his hooves, but saw nothing that could have caused such a terrible fall.
Jared followed her gaze and went to investigate. “A snake hole.”
The utter senselessness of it left her alternating between rage and despair. She pressed a hand over her mouth.
He ran his hands along Prince’s neck. “He’s suffering. Do you want me to do it?”
She heaved a breath and nodded. “I couldn’t.”
The compassion in his expression almost undid her. Unable to speak, she rubbed Prince’s face, whispering a goodbye.
Jared helped her to her feet. When she tried to take a step, she cried out as pain lanced her ankle. In her distress, she’d forgotten her injury.
Alarmed, he lowered her to the ground. “Where does it hurt?”
She held out her left foot.
He carefully removed her riding boot and rubbed gentle hands over her ankle. It had already begun to purple and swell, but his touch did not aggravate the pain. It soothed.
“I don’t think it’s broken, only sprained.” He scooped her up, and she shivered within the warmth and safety of his arms as he carried her to his horse. “Wait for me in that grove. I’ll be with you shortly.”
She settled herself sidesaddle as well as she could on a saddle not meant for a lady in a riding habit. Once she found a position she could maintain, she urged his horse forward. After a few steps, she looked over her shoulder.
Jared retrieved a gun from his coat pocket. He looked back at her and waited.
She clicked to his horse and headed for the grove. Just as she reached the stand of trees, the gunshot cracked. She jumped. Jared’s horse didn’t flinch.
She sobbed. Prince had been a wedding gift from Edward. Losing him reopened stark pain as another part of Edward vanished. And Prince was one more friend to leave her. Their rides together would be no more. He’d never give her one of his affectionate hugs. He’d never nicker in greeting when she came to him. He’d never nose about her pockets looking for an apple or a carrot. She would never again feel his velvety coat, his sweet scent, his hairy nose tickling her neck as he nuzzled her. Her shoulders shook.
As Jared approached, she pulled herself together and wiped her tears, but fixed her gaze downward. Jared removed his gloves, took her hand in his and ran the pad of his thumb over the back of her bare hand. His rough hand was warm and soothing.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Let’s get you home so you can have that ankle tended.”
Grimly, he swung up behind her and settled her in front of him. When they were comfortable, he urged the horse forward. At first, she sat stiffly, aware of the impropriety of their close contact. Yet the warmth of his body against her side and his arms encircling her was comforting. Her muscles unclenching, and the knots in her stomach easing, she relaxed against him. He tightened his arms. Well-being crept over her, calming her, easing her grief.
As they rode, her ankle throbbed in earnest. She hooked her right foot behind her injured ankle to keep it from being jarred unnecessarily. The roan danced against the reins, but Jared kept him at a walk. Elise wondered if he held her so close because he feared she’d fall riding across on a gentleman’s saddle, or for another reason entirely. She rested her head against his chest.
His scent tantalized her, and she turned her face toward him, inhaling his smell. His muscles flexed as his arms tightened around her. Her heart thudded with more vigor.
After a moment, he loosened his grip on the reins and put his hands on her hips. She drew in her breath. He shifted her slightly and moved behind her. When he had her settled more comfortably in front of him, he removed his hands from her hips and simply put his arms around her, holding the reins in one hand, the other resting benignly on her arm.
She let out her breath, relieved and yet, unexplainably disappointed.
He leaned down and spoke into her ear, his breath fanning her neck. “You’re trembling.”
She tilted her head back to meet his blue-green gaze. His mouth hovered tantalizingly close, his lips slightly parted. The urge to trace the contours of his face almost raised her hand. She’d never wanted to be kissed so badly in all her life. She wanted that, and so much more.
And it terrified her.
His expression softened. “You have no need to fear me, Elise.”
She didn’t fear him as much as she feared herself.
A wicked, yet familiar glimmer entered his eyes. “I’m not going to ravish you right here and now.”
“Are you planning on ravishing me elsewhere?” She snapped her mouth closed, horrified she’d just uttered such a scandalous statement.
His mouth slowly curved. “You wouldn’t believe how badly I’m tempted to do just that. But I won’t. Not unless you wish me to.” His lips pulled into a sly smile. “Do you?”
Fearing her expression would give her away, she turned forward. “Certainly not.”
His chin brushed against the top of her head. Her body tingled in awareness of his nearness, his virility. He moved the reins into the other hand and smoothed her hair back. The contact felt achingly pleasant. Only then did she realize she must have lost her bonnet in the fall. She no doubt looked a sight with her hair probably sticking out in all directions. He gave no hint that he noticed. Instead, he pulled her in closer and pressed his lips to her temple.
The quiver in her stomach intensified.
She felt both safe and threatened. Relaxed and alarmed. Aroused and frightened.
“You’re still trembling.” His chest rumbled against her.
She closed her eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“I am relieved to hear that.”
They rode without speaking with his arm wrapped around her. His heart beat against her shoulder. Strong. Steady. Safe.
Every nerve ending throbbed in awareness of him. She craved more of him, yet feared what ‘more’ entailed. She’d never been so keenly aware of a man, or ached so badly. He was thrilling and forbidden.
And yet, underneath it all, a sense of belonging arose. She closed her eyes and burrowed against him.
As they crested the next hill, hoof beats pounded toward them. Elise opened her eyes. Matthews thundered to them, his expression murderous. The groom reined in, eyeing Elise in concern, and sent Jared an open glare. His eyes moved back to hers.
“Are you all right?” he demanded angrily.
“Prince fell, Matthews.” Her voice shook as sharp sorrow returned.
The groom paled. “Are you hurt?”
“Just a sprained ankle. But Prince broke his leg. Mr. Amesbury came to assist.” Elise swallowed and battled her tears. “Prince’s leg was snapped,” she managed through her tears.
Matthews’s pallor became almost grey. “Where is he?”
“On a rise at the eastern border near the road.”
“I’ll go take care of him.” His voice sounded strangled.
“I’ve already seen to him,” Jared said quietly.
Grim and tense, Matthews nodded. “I’ll get someone to help me with the body.” He paused, glancing alternately at her and Jared.
“I’ll see her safely home,” Jared assured him.
Matthews appeared to size up Jared. Whether he approved of something he saw in Jared, or whether Elise’s expression convinced him, she did not know. He nodded again and spurred his horse back to the stables. By the time Elise and Jared had arrived in front of the house, Matthews and another stable lad were racing off together in a cart.