“Your mother saw me.” Satisfaction throbbed in him, and she caught the gloating flash of his smirk. “A delightful game it proved, learning how quickly I could push her into madness.”
“You?” All this time she’d thought her mother was seeing things, conjuring ghosts where there were none. Guilt surfaced almost driving out her fear.
“I hired actors to haunt her when I needed to conduct business elsewhere.”
Jocelyn spat out a curse and fought him with renewed determination. He subdued her with little effort, laughing when she repeated the slur against his manhood.
“My dear, I’ll happily prove you wrong.” His hand slipped down to squeeze one breast, the sharp pain making her cry out. “We’ll have a good time at the abbey. Such a fortuitous discovery.”
She slithered away as far as his punishing grasp allowed, shooting him a glare of dislike. “Did you kill my mother?”
“I heard she died. I also heard your husband did it.” His lips twisted, and she saw his spite. He cared nothing for her pain, reveling in her grief. “Not that I blame him. Who wants a madwoman living in their house?” He shoved her deeper into the maze, helping her along with a rough hand in the middle of her back. “No one wants to worry about someone attacking them in their bed. I’d say your husband is a clever man.”
No, she’d settled this matter in her mind. “Leo’s not like that. He’s decent.”
“He’ll reject you too, my dear, especially after I’ve fucked you and passed you to my friends. It won’t take much to circulate rumors around Merrivale and Tavistock. People will laugh because Sherbourne married a courtesan. I told Hannah. She’ll make sure everyone learns of your scandalous reputation.”
Leo knew. He wouldn’t reject her because of renewed gossip. But despite the thought, panic was a stealthy beast, stalking her mind, making her want to curl up and cry at the injustice. People would think the worst of her.
“You can’t do this. I’m a married woman.” A clear tremor wove through her words. A living nightmare, and there was no way out.
Boynton chuckled, the spiteful humor telling her he was enjoying her plight. “From what I hear your husband is a jealous man. By the time I’ve finished with you he’ll refuse to have you back. You’ll be soiled goods. No decent man will want you.”
The worst part was she feared Boynton might be right. After Leo’s experience with his first wife, he’d believe the worst. A sob caught in her throat, the ache of regret like a cage around her chest. Her hand crept down to caress her unborn child. “Leo will search for me.” She knew this with certainty, but what would he do with her once he found her?
“Of course he will, which is why I’m going to make it appear as if we’ve enjoyed a tryst.” He dragged her to a painful stop. “Look at me.”
She drew her shoulders back. Her instinct to disobey disregarded because he was bigger, stronger. Instead, she took her time, lifting her chin with hauteur.
Boynton cursed. “Damn this gloom in here.”
Jocelyn backed up, gathering herself to run. Unfortunately, he noticed. His hand snapped out to grip the neckline of her gown. The silky fabric was no match for his strength. The tear of fabric made her cry out and she wrenched the mangled bodice back into place.
“Stop! Leave me alone. Help. Help!”
He grabbed her roughly, the hand covering her mouth and nose almost suffocating her. “Cease your shouts, or I’ll hurt your stepdaughter. Lots of men will pay for a morsel like her. Fucking a virgin child cures the pox, I’ve heard.” He grunted when she twisted and landed a kick on his shin. His hot breath wafted across her cheek. “And don’t pretend you don’t care for her. I’ve had that bitch Hannah whining in my ear for weeks that you’ve stolen her man and the child likes you better.”
Fight. Her breaths exited in a harsh pant. He’d hurt her, no matter what she did. She bit down on his fingers, and when he released her with a howl, she fled, running deeper into the maze.
He thundered after her. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see him gaining. She lifted her skirts and ran, panic giving her speed. Faster. Faster. Each successive breath burned, panic a beast nipping at her heels.
Where the devil was she? She hadn’t kept count of the turnings after they entered the maze. Fool. She raced around another corner and came to an abrupt stop, fighting for breath. If she wasn’t careful he’d trap her in a dead end, and he wouldn’t be stupid enough to let her escape again.
“You can’t escape me, Jocelyn.”
Bastard. She had to warn Leo. Tell him about Boynton and his threats. But Leo isn’t the only one involved. What if the scandal embroils Melburn too? She’d never forgive herself if she harmed both men with her soiled reputation.
“Come out, come out wherever you are.”
His singsong voice paralyzed her, weakened her knees. She stood in indecision, a hand clamped to her mouth, trapping her dread inside. Footsteps came closer and she fought a whimper. The brush of a limb against hedge indicated he was near.
“You can’t escape. My men are guarding the exit.”
Yes, but if she could work out where she was and lose him, she’d be able to call for help. If she screamed loud enough someone would hear.
Another footstep. A harsh breath.
“Stop this nonsense, Jocelyn.”
Never.
She waited until he drew level with the wall of hedge she cowered behind, waited until the very last minute before striking. She lashed out, chopping him across the throat with the side of her hand. Then, while he was fighting for breath, the air seesawing in and out of him, she kicked him in the balls.
Chapter Seventeen
She’s run off with Boynton. I told you that. Hannah’s triumphant voice echoed through Leo’s mind. She’d sounded positive of Jocelyn’s betrayal. Pain lashed him, his steps faltering until commonsense reasserted itself. Jocelyn was happy at Merrivale. She was excited about the baby.
A foreign sound pierced his unhappy musing. Leo paused mid-stride, his head cocking to the left. He’d heard a noise. It repeated—this time a pained scream rippled on the air. “Jocelyn!” He was off running before the echoes of the cry died.
“I’m in the maze.”
She hadn’t run off. “Keep talking. I’ll find you.” Leo exploded through the maze entrance, past a lingering man. “Jocelyn?”
“Leo, take care. Boynton is here somewhere.”
Leo tripped and cursed softly. “Why is he with you?” Who is he to you?
“He’s not with me, you stupid man,” she snapped.
Relief roared through him at her indignation. “Why did you scream?”
“It wasn’t me.” Her voice sounded closer this time.
“Who—” He rounded the corner, and she was in front of him. “Are you all right?” He embraced her, frantic for reassurance.
“I’m fine. Please, let’s leave this maze.”
He swiftly guided her through the shadows, down the gravel path to the exit. The man who’d lingered at the entrance had disappeared.
“What happened?” He wanted to scoop her up and hug her to his chest, yet there were so many unanswered questions. “Is Boynton still in the maze?”
“I think so. I kicked him.” Her chin lifted in defiance. “Melburn suggested it.”
“My cousin?” Now he was intrigued.
“He said if a man accosted me without permission, I should look for an opportunity to kick him in the balls.”
Leo winced. “Did his advice work?”
“Yes.” She sounded smugly satisfied.
“Let’s get you back to the manor.”
“I want to rejoin our guests,” Jocelyn said.
“I’ll escort you back to the manor.” He intended to have a word with Boynton. He eyed her, relief at finding her releasing the tightness in his gut. “Everyone will leave soon. You’ve worked hard today. Go to your room and rest.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that an order?”
“Yes.”
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“Because you don’t trust me or because you think I might be tired?”
Something twisted inside him, and he had to swallow to dislodge the clog in his throat. He caressed her cheek. “I don’t want you to get fatigued. The servants or Mrs. Allenby will supervise the rest of the night. All you need to do is ask.”
She winced when his fingers brushed her jaw. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“Boynton struck me.”
Anger flared again as he turned her face to the light. He trailed his fingers gently down her face until he reached the nasty scratch that marred her silky skin. A trail of smeared blood had dried on her chin, and he rubbed it gently with a damp finger. “He’ll pay for this.”
“Punch him in the nose.”
“You sound bloodthirsty.” Her manner calmed his earlier doubts, shame filling him now for even considering Hannah’s accusations.
“I hate Boynton, and I hope you put a kink in his nose. He said he intends to spread rumors about my past, if he hasn’t already.”
Leo grinned, despite his anger at Boynton. “For you, my dear, it will be my pleasure.”
Jocelyn climbed the stairs feeling every ache and pain. In her bedchamber, she surveyed her face, probing the sore spot on her jaw. She winced and turned away. Bastard. She should have kicked him harder.
After cleansing the wound and applying one of her mother’s salves, she managed to remove her gown and slide into bed. Now that she’d slowed exhaustion struck, but sleep evaded her. Too many thoughts danced in her mind.
Boynton would waste no time spreading the facts of her past. The delicious gossip of a man duped by a courtesan and tricked into marriage would do the rounds in Tavistock and gradually the rumors would wend their way to London. Once the locals learned the sordid truth, they’d turn their backs on her. Leo and Cassie would reap the same treatment by association. Every prediction her sisters had uttered about dire consequences was finally coming to pass. And their baby—what sort of life would he or she have when everyone assaulted them with vicious whispers?
Merrivale was Leo’s home. He was a good man and didn’t deserve any of this.
Unable to sleep, she tossed and turned, wincing with each twist of her body. Damn, Boynton, and a pox on Hannah.
The hours marched past, and someone knocked on her door. Susan probably. At Jocelyn’s muted summons, her maid entered. After setting down a tray, she drew back the curtains. On seeing Jocelyn, her mouth dropped open and her perkiness fled.
“Mrs. Sherbourne. Your face!” She snapped her mouth shut, her lips flattening to a thin line of disapproval. She stole a quick glance at the connecting door.
“Leo didn’t do this.” Jocelyn rushed to his defense.
“Yes, Mrs. Sherbourne.”
Susan didn’t believe her. Jocelyn glanced at the pillow beside, her noting the lack of indentation. She frowned, not sure what Leo’s failure to join her meant. At the very least she’d expected him to check on her.
“Should I help you out of bed, Mrs. Sherbourne?”
“Yes, please.” She noted Susan’s anxious glance and sighed. “My babe is fine. I’m merely a little sore.”
A sharp hiss escaped Susan when she witnessed the extent of Jocelyn’s bruising. “Take a seat and drink your tea while I get some warm water.”
Jocelyn obediently limped over to sit in one of the chairs by the window. She caught a glimpse of her face in the looking glass. No wonder Susan was suspicions. She looked as if she’d taken part in a pugilist match. She moved gingerly, biting back an unladylike curse. The idea was to reassure her maid, not alarm her further.
Susan returned with water and, after helping Jocelyn to wash and dress, finally bustled from the room. She must speak with Leo to learn what had happened with Boynton. She and Leo needed to form a plan, present a united front, and they couldn’t do that if Leo was avoiding her.
Susan returned with ointment for her bruises.
“I’ve already applied salve,” Jocelyn said. “Is Leo here?”
Susan sniffed. “No one has seen him since last night.”
“Please make sure Woodley knows I wish to see Leo as soon as he returns.”
“Yes, Mrs. Sherbourne.”
Jocelyn spent most of the day pacing the parlor. She read a story to Cassie and told her she’d walked into a tree branch in the dark when her stepdaughter expressed curiosity about her face. It was the same story she told everyone except Tilly and Woodley.
“What are you going to do?” Tilly asked after Jocelyn admitted the truth of her injuries.
“The man has not a shred of honor,” Woodley added.
“I’ll speak to Leo. If the wretched man ever decides to return to Merrivale. My husband, I mean.”
As the day progressed, and Leo didn’t arrive, her frustration grew. When the man finally made an appearance she might just flay him with her tongue.
“Is the woman all right?” Leo asked. While he was loathe to leave Jocelyn after Boynton’s attempted abduction, she’d be safe at the manor. It was time to clear his name and finish the investigation he’d started on his own, before the constable had tossed him in a cell. Besides, Cartwright had stuck by him, and Leo could do no less now when the constable required his help.
This time they surveyed the abbey from another vantage point. It was closer with better views, and they’d manage to ferret out identities if the men didn’t wear masks.
“The woman is fine. She said a servant took her food and ale. If you ask me they’d drugged it because she said she slept. Her eyes didn’t look right.”
“What the devil do you think they’re up to?” Leo asked, his hands wrapped around a brandy flask as if to ward off the chill. Each exhalation created a puff of steam. “I was sure they’d appear at the abbey last night.”
“They’ll come tonight,” Cartwright said with an air of confidence. “The men I’ve hired are in place and will move when I give the signal.”
Leo wished he held the same certainty. To his mind, the men were playing with them, like a child teasing a kitten. “We know they kidnapped Ella and probably the maid found in the maze. They enticed the blacksmith’s wife.” Leo’s brow crinkled as he stared down at the abbey. “Ursula and Elizabeth were clearly strangled. It’s still puzzling me. Why?”
A rumble of laughter came from Cartwright. “Not just a pretty face. I’ll make a parish constable out of you yet. I wondered if you’d twig to the differences in the deaths.”
“What does it mean?”
“It might mean nothing,” Cartwright said. “It might mean they take turns getting rid of loose ends and have different methods of disposing of the women.”
“Or there might be two separate murderers at work.”
“There is that theory,” Cartwright said.
Leo tossed over the information they had. “I’ve been thinking about this for days. I don’t understand why someone would strangle Elizabeth. She was a harmless elderly woman.” He shifted to a more comfortable position. “Unless she saw something. It’s possible she could have witnessed a crime, but her behavior was erratic. Half her words didn’t make sense.”
“But an odd moment of lucidity might have meant disaster for the person concerned,” Cartwright mused.
“Or Elizabeth might have been murdered because of me,” Leo said, voicing the idea that had plagued him for some time. “As an act of revenge.”
“You haven’t considered Jocelyn or the woman who looked after Elizabeth?”
“No, Jocelyn didn’t murder her mother,” Leo said. “She gave up everything to keep her mother safe, and Tilly is devoted to Jocelyn. I doubt she did it either.”
“You didn’t even pause to think about it,” Cartwright observed.
“I know my wife. She’s generous and loving. She—”
“We have a group of horsemen approaching,” Cartwright said.
Leo watched the men canter up to the abbey and dismount. The raucous screech of feminine laughter floated to him
, and an open carriage came into view. Torches and lanterns soon lit the entrance.
“The men are masked,” Cartwright said.
“Gives them a sense of anonymity, makes them feel safe. Don’t worry,” Leo said in a grim voice. “I recognize the horses. The bay with the white socks belongs to Peregrine Richards. The horses all come from the Richards’ stable, which means his guests are with him.”
“But Sir James isn’t here.”
“Give him time.”
A man helped the women from the carriage, sweeping them off their feet into his arms. Shrieks of laughter rang out, bolstered by masculine banter.
“It’s early,” Leo said. “They’ll want to have their fun first.”
Another carriage arrived, horsemen riding either side. The carriage pulled to a halt and four men climbed out. One reached back into the carriage and lifted out something.
“Another woman?”
“I’d lay money on it. I don’t like the escort.” Cartwright watched the men enter the abbey. Two remained at the entrance. “They’re armed. That will present difficulties.”
“Yes, we need to get inside the abbey.”
Cartwright shifted his weight, stretching his limbs. “We’ll have to get rid of the guards.” He scratched his chin then smirked. “Let’s dispose of the guards and replace them with two of my men.”
“I’ll take the one nearest the big oak,” Leo said. “We’ll have to disable the carriage drivers too.”
“We won’t have to,” Cartwright said with a jerk of his chin. “They’re leaving.”
Leo squinted through the growing darkness. “That’s a good plan on their part. They won’t want to attract attention.”
Once they could no longer hear the rattle of the carriages, Leo and Cartwright crept down from their vantage point, stalking their chosen quarry. Leo stole toward the oak, his gaze on his target. He was almost on the man when the crack of the wood beneath his boot sounded like gunfire. The man whirled, gun cocked. Desperate, Leo lunged, his fists swinging. The gun fired and pain screamed through his biceps.
Mistress of Merrivale Page 25