Undone by the Earl

by Elizabeth Rue

  She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “He knows I am wealthy.”

  “Oh.” Julia nodded, relief softening her face. “Of course. I knew it had to be something like that…” She sighed. “I just couldn’t believe he loved you.”

  Julia still loved Sir Neville, the poor fool.

  But she was a fool too. She’d trusted her solicitor, and she’d never considered Sir Neville or anyone else might know her secret.

  He’d been plotting all along to marry her for her money. Even worse, he’d ruined his own ward, tossed her aside, and let another take the blame for his debauchery.

  “You must tell Lord Wareton the truth,” Anna said.

  Julia laughed. “Never.”

  “Does it not trouble you to live such a lie?”

  Julia flinched. She had a conscience then, in spite of everything.

  “Did you not see how generously Lord Wareton provides for us?” Julia said. “Do you think he would do all this if he knew Emily wasn’t his niece?”

  “Lord Wareton would continue to help you no matter what,” Anna said. “He is too good a man to abandon you and the baby.”

  Julia shook her head. “I would be a fool to trust any man. Even him.”

  Anna touched Julia’s arm. “Please. Come back with me and tell him the truth.”

  Julia pulled away. “Lord Wareton will be furious. He might very well put us out on the street. And what of Sir Neville? His reputation is everything to him. The scandal would ruin him. Once I wanted that but…” She shook her head. “Now I am wiser.”

  Sir Neville had hurt so many people with his lies that he deserved to be unmasked for what he was. The heroic status and honorable reputation that was so precious to him would be lost, yet he deserved no less for what he’d done.

  “Come back with me now,” Anna said. “Tell the truth. You will be protected.”

  “I cannot risk it.”

  “Do you not wish to punish Sir Neville for what he’s done?”

  Julia grimaced, looking as if she were fighting tears. “I do, but…now that you know the truth, you will never marry him. That is revenge enough.”

  What could she say to convince her?

  “Lord Wareton and his brother are close to killing each other because of this. Meanwhile, Sir Neville lives with none of the consequences. Is this truly what you wish?”

  Julia shook her head. “No.” She twisted her shawl around her hands. “But I am afraid. Sir Neville can be terribly cruel if someone crosses him. And he is so clever, he always finds a way to get what he wants.”

  “Not this time,” Anna said. “Please, come with me.”

  They turned to follow the path back. They’d gone only a few steps when they heard footfalls ahead on the trail, growing louder.

  Julia frowned. “I told the servants not to disturb us.”

  Through a break in the trees they glimpsed a man. A well-dressed man walking swiftly, leaning heavily on a walking stick. His coat bulged oddly at the sides, as if—

  Anna stifled a gasp and grabbed Julia’s arm. Julia’s arm shook beneath Anna’s fingers. Julia pressed her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide, terrified.

  “What do we do?” Julia whispered.

  Anna whispered back, “We run.”

  27

  Julia and Anna hiked up their skirts and rushed deeper into the woods. The trail grew rougher as it climbed to drier, rockier ground and then descended again. The muddy path sucked at their half boots, and brush and thickets clawed at their skirts as they ran.

  Though Anna could hear no sound of pursuit over their footfalls, she had no doubt if she stopped long enough to listen, she would.

  The path narrowed, forcing them to slow even more, then seemed to disappear completely. They stumbled to a halt, breathless, scanning the trees and thickets all around.

  “It does go on,” Julia whispered, peering to the northwest. “Wait, I think I see it—”

  Anna clutched her arm to silence her.

  Not far behind them, a twig snapped, and something crunched against leaves.

  Anna pushed Julia in the direction where she had said the path restarted. Let the noise only be a deer, she willed silently.

  A shot rang out. The ball smashed into a moss-covered tree trunk only a few yards from them.

  They ran. They ran as fast as they could, stumbling back onto the trail, which was now much narrower. Anna’s heart pounded. Her chest ached. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

  How could this be happening? How could Sir Neville be so different from the man she thought she knew?

  Behind her, she heard Julia stumble. She stopped and spun back. Julia rose shakily, grimaced, and quickly shifted her weight to her left leg.

  Anna rushed back to her.

  “My ankle,” Julia whispered. She took a step and gasped.

  Anna slid an arm around her. “Lean on me,” she whispered. They started forward again, as quickly as they could with Julia hobbling.

  “It is no use,” Julia whispered after a moment, panting. “He’ll catch us for certain this way. You should leave me. It’s my fault. I’ll face him alone.”

  “No,” Anna whispered. She couldn’t abandon Julia. Any hope that Sir Neville might not wish them harm was gone.

  Nothing she’d believed of him was true. She thought of the strange look that sometimes shone on his face when he spoke of killing the bandits. Suddenly, in her memory, it seemed disturbing, as if he’d enjoyed it. And now that his reputation—his entire future—was at stake, he would apparently preserve it at all costs.

  She forced back tears. She had to focus on escape. She scanned to the west of the path and chose a spot where the ground was rocky for a dozen or so yards before ferns and bushes covered it again. She helped Julia across the dry ground and through the brush beyond. Anna kept glancing back to check the path. Once she was certain it was well out of view, she stopped.

  “Hide here,” she whispered, “I’ll draw him away.”

  “You mustn’t risk yourself.” Julia was wide-eyed but she lowered herself to the ground.

  “This way we both have a chance,” Anna murmured. She turned and hurried back towards the path as quietly and as quickly as she could.

  She paused to check that they hadn’t left a conspicuous trail into the brush. Then she sped forward again, deliberately making deep impressions in the mud with her half boots. She ran noisily along the winding path for a few moments. When she spotted a rocky rise off to the west, she left the trail and forged her way up the brush-covered slope. Atop the hill, she hiked up her skirt and clambered on top of the largest boulder. She peered out from the cover of trees, back towards the path, catching her breath.

  She spotted Sir Neville in the distance, his dark hat bobbing among the brush as he followed the trail. He seemed to be close to where Julia was hidden when he suddenly disappeared from view behind some trees.

  Anna held her breath, waiting for him to reappear. She thought of Julia’s twisted ankle, and how she’d be utterly helpless against him. She thought of Julia’s baby.

  She took a few deep breaths and pushed aside all her instincts telling her to remain silent, to slip away into the woods and save herself. Instead, trembling, her stomach in knots, she shouted, “Help! Help!”

  Silence followed. She stared at the spot where Sir Neville had disappeared.

  Follow the path. Please follow the path.

  After a moment, Sir Neville reappeared, hurrying through the trees, headed along the path. After her.

  Adrian and Edmund rode at a gallop as far as the horses could take it. Adrian’s side ached from the pistol jostling inside his coat, and his fingers were sore from gripping the reins too tightly.

  They were forced to stop in Stanbury. Adrian paced in front of the inn as they waited for fresh horses to be brought around.

  Sir Neville had left hours before, and with a bit of luck he might have found Miss Howe’s home in little time—

  “He might have s
topped to switch horses. And he must have been delayed trying to learn where Miss Howe lived.” Edmund spoke quietly, apparently thinking the same thing. “He likely does not even know her new name. He may yet be searching for the house.”

  “He knows to search for Anna.” Adrian said. “She would have likely drawn attention. A young lady riding alone in the countryside in a hired hack? A few questions would be all it would take.”

  “They might have left Miss Howe’s. They might have—”

  “Enough,” Adrian said. He knew Edmund meant well, but nothing he could say would do any good. Not until Anna was safe with him.

  Sir Neville had ruined his own ward. He’d lied and let an innocent man take the blame to hide his crime. Adrian thought of the steeliness that shone in Sir Neville’s eyes, and the cold, calculated way he’d manipulated him and Edmund.

  And the way he’d seemed so honorable, refusing to elope with Madeline, looked entirely different now. Anna had made it clear that she’d never marry him, so he’d turned his charms to Madeline. Sir Neville knew Madeline was an heiress, and after this morning he likely knew she stood to be an even greater one if Anna married first.

  Until Sir Neville learned Anna was going to see Julia. There was only one reason for Sir Neville to rush north: to try and stop the truth from coming out.

  But how far would he go to protect it? Was he so ruthless as to harm two women, even to protect his reputation?

  Adrian looked to Edmund. “Once we reach the crossroad to Easton, you ride to get the constable.”

  Edmund shook his head. “We’ll send a messenger. I’m staying with you.”

  Adrian hesitated a moment then nodded. “What in damnation is taking so long with the horses?”

  Five minutes later they were riding north again, having sent a message to the constable. It seemed an eternity to Adrian before they reached Easton. Adrian knew back roads, shortcuts Sir Neville wasn’t likely familiar with, yet all he could think of was how long a head start Sir Neville had. And what could have happened in that time, what could be happening even now.

  He loved her.

  Anna had given him so much. The care she showed the estate was just the beginning. She’d given him Edmund back. Helped him to see Cecelia as he should have all along. And she’d given him herself, without expecting anything in return. Perhaps, it pained him to admit, without wanting anything in return.

  He wouldn’t think on that now. He must ensure that she was safe and afterwards... Afterwards he would try and convince her to be his wife.

  He gently nudged his horse once more, willing every ounce of strength from the animal. Trees and hedgerows and stone walls raced by in a blur. He forced himself not to imagine the worst should Sir Neville arrive at Julia’s first.

  Surely he wasn’t so ruthless as to harm them?

  Though Adrian was loath to accept it, his instincts told him the answer might very well be yes.

  As Adrian had feared, Sir Neville had reached Julia’s house before they did. A saddled horse, looking like it had been at rest for some time, grazed outside the home. The elderly butler could only tell them that his mistress had gone walking with a female caller, and that soon after a gentleman had also called, asked after them, and said he would join them on their stroll.

  Adrian and Edmund started down the path at a run, pausing where footprints marked the soft ground. Two sets were women’s boot prints, narrow at the toes, with small square impressions from the heels. A set of larger and wider prints, with a small hole every few feet from a walking stick, overlapped the women’s footprints.

  Adrian and Edmund ran on, the air growing damper and the path muddier. Suddenly the prints changed, the women’s becoming more widely spaced.

  “They were running,” Adrian said. “They must have seen Sir Neville coming.” His heart lifted.

  “They can outrun him,” Edmund said. “His leg.”

  Yes, but for how long?

  Just then a gunshot rang out in the distance, from deeper in the woods.

  Adrian’s throat went dry. He tried not to imagine what could have just happened.

  They raced ahead. The path narrowed, brush and leaves slapping at Adrian’s face and shoulders as he ran. Every few minutes they paused to listen, but they heard only the sounds of birds.

  Adrian realized they now followed only two sets of prints: Sir Neville’s and one woman’s. Likely Anna’s, from the larger size of the boot print.

  “They split up,” Adrian said, stopping. “You should go back and find the other trail.”

  “Yes.” Edmund nodded and then added, “Be careful, Adrian.” He disappeared down the path.

  Adrian strode forward again and then abruptly stopped. He was tired of stumbling around in the trees while the devil knew what was happening nearby.

  He left the trail and pushed through the brush towards a stand of tall trees. One stood apart from the shorter trees around it, affording a relatively unobstructed view to the north and west. If he climbed it and Sir Neville happened to be looking his way, he’d make an easy target, but it was worth the risk if he could learn what was happening.

  He grabbed a thick branch and hoisted himself up. It had been a long time since he’d climbed a tree, and it was more difficult than he remembered. After several scrapes and much shredded bark, he stopped, braced himself on a stout limb, and pushed aside a thick branch to peer out at the woods around him.

  Almost immediately, he spotted Sir Neville. He was moving north, his dark hat and coat visible through a stretch of thin trees. He appeared to be alone.

  Adrian scanned the landscape ahead of Sir Neville and at first saw nothing. Then, to the northwest, he thought he glimpsed something yellow. Or perhaps he’d only imagined it. A moment later, the yellow reappeared.

  Anna’s bonnet. Only a few hundred yards from Sir Neville, who appeared to be slowly gaining on her.

  Were Adrian to follow the winding trail, even at a run, it might take too long, but if he were to cut northwest through where the woods became marsh, with some luck he might reach Anna first.

  On the other hand, the bog would almost certainly slow him down. He decided it was worth the risk.

  He leapt from the tree and pushed into the marsh.

  His boots were quickly coated with mud. Where the ground was too soft for his weight, the bog sucked at his feet, forcing him to slow. Pools of stagnant water and mire that appeared dangerously deep required him to detour.

  When his path was suddenly blocked by a weedy pond stretching hundreds of yards before him, he splashed straight into it, relieved when it never became deeper than his shins. He passed across a stretch of drier land, then came to another stagnant pond. He waded through the foul water, avoiding rotting logs and clutching weeds as he swatted away the dragonflies that lunged at his face.

  At the end of the pond he spied a cluster of boulders. The first few that he tried offered limited views to the north, but finally he stood on one and was able to see across the last stretch of mire before the trees took over again. He quickly spotted Sir Neville paused on a hillock. Looking directly back at him.

  As the shot rang out, Adrian dove from the boulder. He landed in a thick slog of mud, its stinky weight sucking at his arms and legs, plastering his chin, and oozing into the neck of his shirt. The ball crashed harmlessly into the brush behind him.

  At least Anna should be alerted to Sir Neville’s location. And he had one less shot for his pistol. Would he come after him now, rather than Anna? Not likely.

  Adrian tried to rise to his hands and knees. The mud was so thick that the ground sunk beneath his limbs.

  He had to get to Anna. Now.

  He shoved forward, his knees and elbows squishing into the sludge. He strained his neck to keep his mouth free of mud as he labored to reach drier ground.

  His left boot was slipping, the muck threatening to pull it off, when his elbows finally met more solid earth. He dragged himself out of the mire, curling his toes to keep from losi
ng his boot.

  Stumbling to his feet, he stomped to shove the boot back on. Sir Neville could be practically upon Anna by now. Maybe close enough to get a shot.

  He stepped forward and stopped. Like the rest of his clothes, his waistcoat should feel heavier now, with the mud caking it, but it didn’t. He patted his side.

  His pistol was gone.

  He spun around. The tracks in the mud where he’d dragged himself were already filling with water. Nowhere along the vanishing trail was the gleam of metal. He could slosh back in and search for the pistol, but the muck had likely ruined it anyway. Meanwhile, Sir Neville could be closing on Anna.

  Cursing, he turned away and hurried north. At least he was well camouflaged now.

  Too well, apparently. He scrambled through a thicket and into a small clearing. He ducked as a moss-covered log swung at his face.

  Anna stood over him, her blue eyes narrowed, her hands shaking as she prepared to swing the log at him again.

  “Anna.” He fought to keep his voice a whisper.

  Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She lowered the log.

  She took a step towards him. “You found us—”

  He grabbed the log from her, tossed it away, and crushed her into his arms. She felt so strong, so vital and warm, so slender and fragile at the same time. Even now, mud-spattered and perspiring, she smelled good. Felt good. His heart pounded as he let out a long, deep breath.

  “You aren’t hurt?” he whispered, his mouth pressed against her bonnet.

  “No, I—”

  “I must take you to safety,” he whispered. He released her and she stepped back. Their embrace had left smears of mud on her dress.

  “Sir Neville is close,” she said softly, gesturing north. “The trail is just over there.”