“You’re not cancelling the event?” Peregrine asked.
“No, I felt that everyone has worked hard with the preparations. Mother was looking forward to the celebration, and I decided to continue with our plans.”
Hannah nodded slowly, pleasure suffusing her face. “Thank you. I’d like to help.”
Jocelyn gave both Hannah and Peregrine a swift hug. They said their goodbyes and departed in their carriage. It was the start of the exodus, and soon Leo and Jocelyn were alone with Cartwright.
“We need to leave too,” Cartwright said.
“Give us a few minutes?” Leo asked. “I’d like to escort Jocelyn to her chamber.”
“Five minutes,” Cartwright said after surveying his pocket watch. He slipped it in his pocket before walking over to the tray of refreshments. “I’ll wait here and sip on another glass of this fine brandy.”
Leo offered her his arm. “You need your rest. You look tired.”
“I am a little fatigued,” she confessed.
They walked up the stairs together. Leo halted at the door of her chamber. “I’m hopeful Cartwright will release me soon. Perhaps we’ll visit Melburn for a few days once this is over. Take some time away from Merrivale.”
“I’d like that.” If Leo wasn’t responsible for the murders, then someone else was. She chewed her lip, biting down hard to prevent the escalation of fear, for there was a murderer stalking the inhabitants of Merrivale. The only doubt in everyone’s minds was the murderer’s identity.
Chapter Fifteen
Jocelyn kept busy with festival preparations during the days following the funeral, trying to outrun thoughts of her mother and murder.
From her chamber window, she scanned the sky for unacceptable changes in the weather. This morning the sky appeared a brilliant blue with not a cloud to mar the pristine hue. She let the curtain drop back into place. “It’s not raining.”
Susan smoothed the covers of the bed and straightened the pillows. “My mother thinks we’ll have a fine spell. None of the frogs are croaking in the village pond.”
“Are frogs reliable indicators of weather?”
“According to my mother.” Susan moved on to the dressing table, tidying away ribbons and ear rings with brisk efficiency. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Good.” Amazingly, she didn’t feel a hint of nausea, not after eating several pieces of dry bread.
“Keep some bread handy, Mrs. Sherbourne. My sister said the nausea can strike at any time of the day.” She pulled back the rest of the curtains, letting in a burst of sunshine. “It looks like today will be a fine one. I’m sure tomorrow will be perfect for the festival.”
“That’s reassuring. The weather is the one thing Mrs. Allenby can’t order to jump to attention.”
Susan giggled as she assisted Jocelyn to dress in a black gown. Jocelyn smiled until she recalled her mother. Despite the footmen and Woodley plus several of the gardening staff watching the house at night, she didn’t feel easy.
“Your…um…visitor left his gloves. Where should I put them?”
“My visitor? Oh!” Suddenly Jocelyn understood. Susan thought Jocelyn was conducting an affair. Bother, she could hardly tell her maid the truth. “Leave them on the dresser. I’ll make sure he gets them back.”
“Of course.” A prim note entered Susan’s voice—a touch of disapproval.
“How is Ella? Do you think she’d like to come back to work?”
Susan’s frown deepened. “She wakes screaming in the middle of the night. Small noises make her jump.”
“That’s understandable. I have no objection to her working shorter hours if she’d like to get out of the cottage.”
“I suggested she return to work, but it’s the manor.” Susan hesitated, swallowing audibly.
“Speak freely, Susan.”
“She doesn’t want to be reminded of Mr. Sherbourne,” Susan said grimly.
Jocelyn bit back her instinctive protest, but there was nothing she could say in Leo’s defense—not when everyone remained convinced he was responsible for Ella’s abduction.
“I want to attend the Harvest festival,” Leo said when Cartwright made his nightly appearance to release him from captivity. He raised his hand when Cartwright started to speak. “No, hear me out. I’m willing to help as much as you require, but I was thinking if the real murderer thought I was out of jail, they might attempt to frame me again.”
“That’s all very well, but I need to keep watch on the abbey.”
“But you’re attending the celebrations?”
“Yes. Most people in the village are excited about the festival.”
“Why don’t I stay at Merrivale tonight after we finish at the abbey and attend with Jocelyn. If you’re there too we can watch the locals’ reactions as they arrive. See if we can shake any apples off the tree.”
Cartwright’s bushy brows drew together. “And what excuse am I going to give everyone who asks why I’ve released a murderer from jail?”
“The clever ones will already have realized I couldn’t have killed Elizabeth.” Leo’s lips twisted. “The ones who don’t believe I’m in league with the devil, that is.”
A snort erupted from Cartwright. “You weren’t in your cell.”
“We’ve had this discussion before. I want to clear my name, damn it. I want to spend time with my wife and get back to my farm work.”
Cartwright issued a heavy sigh. “You’re right of course. All the evidence against you is circumstantial. The maid isn’t a reliable witness—not when she’s so traumatized.”
“I didn’t abduct her,” Leo snapped.
Cartwright pursed his lips then nodded agreement. “Keep a low profile until most of the locals have arrived. I’ll make sure I’m early so I can witness individual reactions to your presence.”
“Thank you.” In a buoyant mood after persuading Cartwright to let him out of the musty cell, he whistled a tune as he followed the constable outside.
They rode by horseback to a shepherd’s cottage and left their horses in a pen at the rear until their return. In silence, they walked along the narrow sheep track, which led to their favored vantage point above the abbey. They settled in to wait.
“Have you checked the abbey during the day?”
“There’s nothing.” Cartwright heaved a sigh. “They’re careful. I’ll give them that.”
“But you believe me,” Leo persisted.
“I wouldn’t be out in the middle of the night at all hours if I didn’t believe you,” Cartwright said gruffly. “Both Peregrine and Sir James have visitors. If there’s ever a time for them to use the abbey again it’s now.”
“I hope you’re right. Nothing happened last time.” Not only was he tired of staring at barred doors, but he wanted the women of Merrivale to feel safe. They wouldn’t feel secure until the real murderer was captured. And he wanted his name cleared, damn it.
“Horses coming,” Cartwright said, gesturing toward their right.
They both peered through the darkness.
“Damn, I can’t see a thing. We need to move closer.”
Leo stayed him with an out thrust hand. “By the time we get down there they’ll be gone again. Wait. The moon might come out again.”
“What are they doing?”
“Is that a package of some sort?”
The clouds shifted, allowing them better vision. A feminine laugh rang out, followed by a masculine chuckle.
“Ah,” Cartwright said. “Maybe this isn’t what we hoped.”
“Not all the women I saw were unwilling.”
Cartwright glanced at him. “You’re saying that she’s there for something more than a tup?”
“Could be.”
Half an hour later, the men exited the abbey, but the woman was nowhere to be seen. They mounted their horses and trotted off.
“What do you think? Recognize the horses?” Cartwright asked.
“Difficult to tell in this light, but I
think we should check the abbey and discover what happened to the woman.”
Five minutes passed before they made their way down the hill. The entrance to the ruins yawned in front of them, a huge black hole.
“How are we going to search the abbey in this light?” Leo asked.
“I found a cache of candles the other day,” Cartwright said, sounding a trifle smug.
“Lead the way.”
Cartwright groped for a candle and lit it before handing it to Leo. “Can you hear something?”
“It sounds like crying.”
Holding his candle aloft, Cartwright hurried in the direction of the noise, Leo following swiftly behind. They came across a woman locked in a makeshift room, her hands tied behind her back.
“Isn’t that the blacksmith’s wife?” Leo murmured.
Her eyes widened on seeing them, and she opened her mouth as if to scream.
“It’s Captain Cartwright, the parish constable,” Cartwright said hurriedly. “We’ve come to help. Turn around. Let Leo unfasten your bonds.”
“He’s not a murderer?”
Leo’s mouth twisted in irritation as he made short work of untying her. “No, madam. I am not a murderer.”
“Who left you here?” Cartwright asked.
“That Sir James and his friend, Boynton. They promised they’d give me coin if I let them tup me. Bastards went back on their word. They dragged me here and left me alone in the dark.”
“Do you know why?” Cartwright asked.
“They didn’t tell me.” The woman sniffed, rubbing the back of her hand across her nose. “Heard ’em mention tomorrow.”
Leo nodded, his excitement growing. A witness. At last they had a witness.
“Would you be willing to testify against Sir James and his friend?”
The woman tossed her head, flipping a tendril of black hair away from her cheek. “Ye’d take my word?” She paused. “Wot will ye pay me?”
Cartwright ignored her request for payment. “Do you know if any other local men are involved?”
“I only seen those two gents. They told me to pretend I be running off. Outside of town, they came for me. Stashed me in a right nice room.” Her eyes flashed anger in the candlelight. “Until tonight. If I be knowing they intended to leave me in the dark I wouldn’t ’ave gone for their schemes.”
“What schemes?” Leo demanded.
Cartwright sent him a chiding look, and Leo gave a clipped nod to indicate his silence.
“What schemes?” Cartwright asked, his tone far more gentle and coaxing than Leo’s.
“They’re having a big party. Invited me, they did.”
Leo bit back a curse and stepped away to stop himself throttling the woman. It was easy to imagine squeezing the answers from her. The damn woman had found her equilibrium quickly after her scare. The blacksmith was well rid of her.
“When is the party and where?” Cartwright asked, never losing his patient manner.
“They be ’avin’ it here at the abbey. A masked ball tomorrow night. Accordin’ to them. They told me I’d be sure to find a gentleman to look after me.” Her bottom lip shot out in a pout. “I think they be tellin’ me lies.”
“Tomorrow.” Cartwright scratched his chin, the abrasive sound amplified in the enclosed space.
“They might come back,” Leo said. “We should go.”
“’ere! What about me?”
“Would you like to help us catch these men?” Cartwright asked.
“Catch ’em? No laws against a party, is there?”
“We believe these men are responsible for murder.”
She jerked her chin in Leo’s direction. “Everyone thinks he did it.”
Leo couldn’t prevent his frustrated growl. He took half a step toward the woman. She let out a squeak of alarm and darted behind Cartwright.
“Sherbourne,” Cartwright snapped and turned to the woman. “He didn’t do it.”
“Then why he be in jail?”
“We need you to help us catch the true murderer.”
She twirled a lock of her hair between finger and thumb, shifty intelligence flitting through her eyes. “What’s in it for me?”
It was early morning when Leo skulked through the shadows and entered the manor in his usual clandestine method.
“Who’s there?” a crisp voice demanded.
“Fuck!” Leo muttered, almost leaping out of his boots.
“Stay right there or I’ll put a bullet through you.”
A light flared, and Leo squinted against the sudden brightness.
“Mr. Sherbourne,” Woodley said, lowering his pistol. “You’ll be wanting to see your wife. Best take the servants’ stairs. There’s a footman lurking at the bottom of the main staircase.”
“Right. Thank you.” Leo walked past and turned, curiosity getting the better of him. “Aren’t you concerned about my presence?”
“I reckon if you had murder on your mind, you’d have done it on one of the nights you visited Mrs. Sherbourne,” Woodley said. “I’ve been keeping an eye on your chamber, tidying away evidence so none of the maids suspected anything.”
Leo offered a chagrined smile. “Thank you, Woodley. I’m attending the festival tomorrow.”
“Mrs. Sherbourne will like that. Good night, sir.”
“Good night, Woodley.”
Leo made his way to Jocelyn’s chamber, eager to see her again. He slipped inside and inhaled deeply, pausing to enjoy the floral scent on the air.
Seconds later, he disrobed rapidly, pulled back the covers and slipped into the bed. Jocelyn didn’t wake, but it didn’t matter. This was home.
He woke hours later, only to realize Jocelyn was no longer in the bed.
“Jocelyn?”
“You’re awake.”
“What are you doing?” It was warm under the covers and the sheets smelled of Jocelyn. Flowers again.
“Checking the weather. I want to see if it’s raining.”
“Come back to bed.” Leo stretched, his senses alive, relaxed—yet not.
Her husband’s husky voice told Jocelyn exactly what he had on his mind. “What sort of incentive are you offering?”
His dark tousled head poked above the covers. A crooked grin lit his handsome face, and her heart jogged against her ribs. “Is that a challenge? Come closer.”
“Said the fox to the rabbit?”
“Jocelyn.” His lazy smile lured her, tempted her.
She hurried back to her bed and slipped between the sheets.
“Ow, woman. Your feet are cold.”
Jocelyn laughed and cuddled closer, unperturbed by his complaints. His arms wrapped around her, and she burrowed against him, soaking in his heat. She brushed a kiss against his throat and lifted her head to grin when he grumbled another complaint.
“I need to warm you.” His hand stroked over her head, smoothing down the wayward locks. She’d given up braiding her hair while preparing for bed. The first thing Leo did whenever he came to her was unfasten her braid.
“I’m warming up already.”
“I have a better way.”
Jocelyn drew back to study his face. “Oh?”
He rolled without warning, caging her within his arms and laughing down at her. “I think we can dispense with your chemise.”
“That won’t keep me warm.”
“Trust me.” He licked along her jawline, wringing a shiver from her. Her breasts prickled, the sensation echoing low between her thighs.
She didn’t reply but wrapped her hands around his neck, drawing him closer until his weight rested on her. He allowed it for an instant before moving. He whisked off her chemise and settled against her again. Their mouths joined, and she greedily met his kiss. His taste and masculine scent washed over her while his warm hand cupped the slight mound of her stomach. She gasped at the touch, somehow intimate and loving, and a wave of emotion almost choked her. In that moment, she wanted to tell Leo she loved him, but doubts—her uncertainty—over
ruled her.
He caressed the upper curves of her breasts and followed his fingers with his tongue. His touch made her breath catch, her pulse race. His proximity seduced her. She jerked when he nibbled at the juncture of her neck and shoulder and sighed when he soothed the sting with a lick of his tongue. A hungry noise escaped as his hands skimmed her body, his mouth moving downward to tongue her sensitive nipple.
“Leo,” she whispered, the tension stretching to breaking point inside her. “I want you now.” She wriggled a fraction, parting her legs and silently encouraging him to hurry. Thankfully, he did. He slipped between her legs and pushed into her with an easy glide.
His mouth fused with hers, his first sweet kiss changing swiftly to insistent. His hands glided across her body, loving and tender. He made her feel precious. She wondered at his silence, then the thought drifted away, shoved from her mind as his muscles flexed and rippled against her. A fine sheen of sweat grew on their bodies.
“Jocelyn, you make me happy.” He forged into her again, filling her as he spoke. “I’m glad I followed my instincts and offered you marriage. I appreciate your support through all this. Your trust.”
The glow in his eyes warmed her all the way through. Words of love flickered through her mind again, but caution kept them contained. It was enough that the emotions had grown in her.
She clasped his shoulders, luxuriating in the sensations coursing through her. One hand crept down to caress his rump, the shift of firm muscles giving her an intense thrill. He changed the angle of his stroke and a flash of pleasure shocked a cry from her. She bit her lip, holding back a whimper. Her gaze went to his face—the stark muscles and flashing eyes, all determination with a contrasting gentleness when he noticed her close attention.
Another thrust pushed her over the edge. Waves of heat and pressure tossed her into a maelstrom. Leo hammered into her with fast, almost brutal strokes. She clung to him, glorying in his need. He gave one final thrust, his breath a heated rush past her ear. His heart thudded against her chest, and for an instant his weight fell on her again. She ran her tongue over his biceps, the tang of sweat salty. She realized she felt happy, despite the loss of her mother. She’d done her best for her parent, and surely that was all anyone could ask. Now was the time to focus on the present and her own family.
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