The Sweetest Touch

by Marie Higgins

  Trevor peered back at the small rundown cottage. He needed to somehow make Featherspoon believe that he would help him—that Macgregor needed to be put out of business immediately.

  Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he urged his horse forward. But after moving a short distance, he heard Featherspoon’s shout. Quickly, Trevor stopped his horse, and spun around toward the house. Featherspoon stood on the porch holding a pistol. The wicked glint in the other man’s eyes caused Trevor to hitch a breath.

  I’m a dead man.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Slowly, Trevor lifted his hands in the air. “Featherspoon, I’m unarmed. Do you really wish to shoot an unarmed man? If you shoot me, you will no longer have honor and your bad name will follow you forever.”

  “I don’t need trouble,” the man shouted from the steps. “You, my lord, are trouble.”

  “I beg to differ. All I want is to find answers for my friend, Louisa. She needs to know about her past. As soon as I get these answers, I will leave you alone.”

  “Louisa was a problem, and that subject should be dropped. Her past is not worth looking into, I assure you.”

  Featherspoon’s confusing words made Trevor want to curse—and shake the man senseless. But for now, Trevor needed to talk him out of firing his pistol. “If you will allow me, I can help you. I suspect you are in trouble, and I think I can assist you in some way.”

  “You cannot help me. Nobody can.” He swayed a little, then quickly steadied himself.

  “Please let me try.” Slowly, Trevor dismounted and took careful steps toward the man pointing the pistol.

  “Stay right where you are,” Featherspoon shouted.

  Trevor inhaled deeply, praying he could convince this man to put the weapon down. “All I want is to know about Louisa. What is her last name? Where did she come from?” He shrugged. “That’s all the information I’m after.”

  Tears gathered in the man’s eyes. “It did not happen the way it was supposed to. I was…promised money. I was never paid.”

  “If money is what you seek, I can pay you. Please tell me what I want to know, and I will happily give you money for your assistance.”

  Featherspoon shook his head. “People have told me that for so long, I refuse to believe it. My life is controlled, and I cannot stop it.”

  “Is Macgregor the one controlling you?” Trevor paused for an answer, but the man continued to shake his head. “If he is, I can stop him. I will give you back the control you lost.”

  “It’s useless. Useless…”

  “Tell me, Mr. Featherspoon, do you take children from wealthy families and sell them to Macgregor?”

  “Yes.”

  Trevor’s heart lightened. Finally, he was getting somewhere. “Did Louisa come from noble parents?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you recall their title?”

  “D—D—doesn’t matter now.”

  Inward, Trevor growled. So close… “I beg you, Mr. Featherspoon. Help me and I shall help you.”

  The other man’s expression wavered from sadness to confusion, before his face grew red and he glared Trevor’s way. His aim became steadier as he pointed the pistol.

  “It’s too late now, Your Grace. Too late for all of us.”

  Trevor’s heart dropped. The perplexed man was going to pull the trigger. Lord…help me!

  Suddenly, a loud thud rang through the air. Featherspoon’s body jerked. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed. Behind him stood a boy—perhaps in his tenth year—holding a large piece of wood. The boy resembled the vagabonds Trevor had seen lately, except this one was a little cleaner.

  “F—f—forgive me, sir, but I couldn’t allow him to shoot you.” The boy wiped his moist eyes.

  “Who are you?” Trevor strolled closer, still hesitant.

  “Isaac, sir. Isaac Dickson.”

  “Are you related to Featherspoon?”

  The boy shook his head and his eyes filled quickly with tears. “No. One week ago, he told me…told me my family…”

  “Burned in a house fire?”

  Isaac nodded and swiped at his eyes again. “I believed him, but after hearing what you said…” He sniffed.

  Trevor motioned the boy from off the porch. “I will take you to your family if you wish. I don’t believe they are dead.”

  The boy flew down the steps and ran to Trevor, burying his face in Trevor’s coat. “I don’t either.”

  He patted Isaac’s head, studying Mr. Featherspoon. Blood gushed out the back of his head. The man’s skin was deathly white. Trevor pushed the boy away and hurried to the porch. Turning Featherspoon over, Trevor checked to see if the man was alive. His chest did not rise or fall. Trevor laid his head on the man’s chest. No heartbeat.

  “D—did I kill him?” Isaac asked in a squeaky voice.

  “Not to worry. You did the right thing.” Trevor met the boy’s panicked eyes. “I assure you, the law will not punish you. This man was very bad and had kidnapped many children.”

  “He told me I would live with a man named Macgregor soon.”

  “No, Isaac. I will not allow that to happen.” He stood and moved down the steps toward the boy. “Let us take you home and I will see that Featherspoon has a proper burial.” He led the way to his horse, but then stopped and glanced back at the cottage. “Are there any more children in there?”

  “No. Just me.”

  Trevor mounted, then lifted the boy behind him. As he rode away, his heart lifted—if only slightly. At least he knew Louisa’s parents were of Quality, and he knew they were not dead. This trip hadn’t been wasted after all. Yet, he still wasn’t any closer to finding out who she really was. He prayed that the weekend party his mother would have would spark something in Louisa’s memory and open a way to her past.

  * * * *

  Louisa’s sides hurt with exertion, but she pushed herself in the direction the coach had taken. No other roads had veered off the path, and she prayed she’d reach the vehicle’s destination soon. She neared the wooded area where Mrs. Smythe had told her she’d been hit. Slowing her footsteps, she glanced around the area, hoping to remember something.

  Nothing looked familiar. Yet…

  Breathing slower, she closed her eyes and concentrated. It was as if a memory tried to break through, but everything was dark. It was night. Only a sliver of a moon lit her way. She was running—fast—searching for someone.

  Confusion had clouded her mind as she ran. Pain twisted her heart.

  She’d just been to a house…

  Louisa gasped and opened her eyes. There was a house nearby. She knew if she went to this place she’d remember something.

  Once again, she ran, not caring if her legs were weak or her body hurt. She pushed herself, knowing this was where she’d remember.

  Up ahead the road forked. Her mind told her to take the road going left. She ran harder. Excitement beat in her head, as her subconscious told her this was the way.

  Her childhood friend, Eliza must live this way. Perhaps that’s why she felt so connected to the area. Through the trees, smoke from chimneys rose above the leaves. She pushed herself faster until the house was in full view.

  Then she stopped and fell to her knees.

  Home.

  The gray, two-story house was exactly as it had been in the brief memories she had. A two-step porch, small flower garden, and the golden-cased knockers on the double doors were still the same.

  Confusion filled her as dark clouds of doubt hung in her memory. She couldn’t possibly be remembering correctly, when only earlier she recalled the moment she was told her family died in a house fire. Yet, the house still stood—the very same as she remembered from years past.

  Gradually, thoughts formed in her mind, memories blended to create a story. For seven years, she’d been told she was an orphan, but the day she was hit by Trevor’s curricle, she had seen her cousin—her betrothed—and followed him home. Here. To this very spot. She had
wanted to see if her parents were still alive, so snuck closer to the window only to have two servants escort her to the tall iron gate.

  These gates. She slid her hands over the cold iron, remembering vividly. She had wanted to find the constable…anyone who would remember her and take her to Frank. But in her confused state of mind, she ran into the road, not seeing or hearing Trevor’s curricle coming her way.

  She closed her eyes and constrained her forehead against the iron gate as tears streamed down her face. All those years…all those miserable, horrible years with Macgregor…she had actually had family. And where was Eliza’s uncle? Why hadn’t he taken care of Louisa as her friend had promised? Why had he sold her to Macgregor?

  Voices coming from the house alerted Louisa and she blinked her teary eyes to focus. Eliza walked out of the house with an older woman. A sob caught in Louisa’s throat and she slapped her hand to her mouth. Mother.

  Painful sobs shook through Louisa’s body. She was unable to call out or even move. She needed to make her mother aware of her presence, but didn’t know how. They must have thought her dead all those years as well. Why else would they not have come for her? And why…

  She glared at her friend; hate and anger welling in Louisa’s chest. Why was Eliza chatting with a woman she was told had died? Had Eliza known all this time? But she must. Eliza knew Mr. Featherspoon had taken Louisa to Scotland. Why hadn’t her friend told her parents?

  Anger grew inside her like a fire spreading quickly through her limbs and gave her the strength to stand. Whether Eliza wanted this or not, Louisa was going to find out the truth. Now.

  She reached for the latch on the gate, but someone’s large hand grasped her shoulder, turning her around. Evil eyes pierced straight through her as the man slowly shook his head.

  “I would not do that if I were ye,” Macgregor said.

  She was too upset to be afraid. Besides, her family was so close now, this man shouldn’t frighten her any longer. “My memory has returned, Mr. Macgregor. I have a family, and I’m no longer yours.”

  He shrugged and folded his beefy arms. “I still have need for ye, my sweet Louisa, which means ye are still mine.”

  “Are you insane? My family lives here—the very family Mr. Featherspoon told me had perished in a fire. Mr. Macgregor, you no longer have rein over me, now get out of my sight.” She swung back to the gate, but once again, he stopped her. This time his hand on her arm squeezed painfully tight and she cried out, pulling away.

  “Ye were always a daydreamer, Louisa. Ye never believed yer family had died even after we proved it.” He tsked and shook his head.

  “You never proved a thing.”

  “As much as ye want to have a family, ye never will. I’m yer only family…me and the other children.”

  “You are wrong. Mr. Featherspoon lied to me. He lied to you.” She motioned her head toward the manor. “This is my family. Now let me be!”

  The evil man’s gaze darted back and forth between her and the house. With narrowed eyes, he scratched his head as if in deep thought. Louisa didn’t like his calculating expression at all.

  “Even if this was yer family as ye proclaim, the bargain we made still stands. However I’ll add another juicy tidbit to our deal. If ye do not get me the dowager’s jewels, not only will I harm the duke and his children, but the people who live at this place as well. In fact, I’m wonderin’ right now how I could get ye to steal from them. They look as if they have fat pockets, don’t ye think?” He stepped closer, his gaze delving deep into hers. “Ye know I will follow through with my threats. One more week is all I ask. Ye get me those jewels, or those ye love—and whoever lives here—will die the fiery death ye had been told about all those years ago.”

  Her stomach churned and she clutched her middle. What had she done? But more than that…how could she get out of this? The truth was she couldn’t. He was serious, and she knew not to go against him or else someone ended up hurt…or dead.

  “If ye tell anyone about this, I shall torture ye as ye have never been tortured before.” He ran the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. “I’m almost hopin’ ye go against me. I have somethin’ very excitin’ and pleasurable planned for us, my dear.”

  She turned her face away as bile rose to her throat. “I will do as you ask and steal the dowager’s jewels,” she whispered brokenly. “But that’s all.”

  “What about the family that lives here?” He glanced at the manor again.

  Her heart crumpled even more. “You were right. I don’t know them. I was just…daydreaming about having a real family…again.”

  “Good girl.” Softly, he patted her cheek. “Now, come with me and I shall get ye out of here.”

  Dejectedly, she followed, her heart breaking with each step as he led her to his horse. Her life was over one way or another. If she didn’t do as he said, he’d seriously hurt everyone she loved. If she did as he instructed, they would all hate and disown her because of her thievery.

  He offered his hand to help her into his curricle, but she brushed it aside and climbed in by herself. Once he sat next to her and urged the horse into a trot, she dared take a glance back at her family’s estate. Nobody had noticed her. Although sadness filled her, she was grateful they hadn’t. Macgregor would have indeed harmed them.

  “Why have you been watching me?” she asked, her voice rose in anger.

  “Because I know how badly ye want to break free of me, and I could not possibly allow that to happen until after ye have stolen the jewels.” He glanced her way with an arched eyebrow. “And my first instincts were correct.”

  Louisa blew out a gush of air and rubbed her forehead. “I will get the jewels for you.”

  “Of course ye will.”

  Macgregor whistled a lively tune, which gnawed on her nerves. They rode for a few minutes as questions swam in her head. Although she remembered her past now, there were still things she wanted to know. When she lived with Macgregor, she rarely voiced her opinion or even spoke to the man. He had frightened her beyond belief. But now… Now she had more courage, it seemed.

  “Why did Mr. Featherspoon sell me to you?”

  His whistling stopped and he peered her way. “Because we have a bargain, him and I. He delivers children to my doorstep, and I keep the law away from him.”

  “The law?” She blinked tired eyes. “I would think the law would be searching for you.”

  “No. He does the kidnappin’, not I.”

  “Is that why the law is looking for him? Because they suspect him of kidnapping?”

  “That and more. Although a drunk, he is a clever man and does not leave traces of his wrong doin’s.”

  “So my real family...they don’t believe I was kidnapped?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Then what do they think happened to me?”

  “If they are still alive, they would have been told ye drowned, my dear.”

  She forced a laugh. “I don’t think my family would believe that. They knew I could swim.”

  Macgregor looked her way again. “Not when yer cloak was found in the river.”

  “And who, pray tell, found my cloak?”

  “The teacher at yer school.”

  Louisa pieced together everything that happened the day she’d heard about her family dying. This did not make sense at all. “What about my friend, Eliza? She knew I didn’t drown. She was there with me when her uncle gave me the sad news.”

  Macgregor tilted his head back and laughed. His yellow and brown teeth were coated with food particles, and she wanted to gag.

  “Oh, my dear Louisa. Yer startin’ to see things clearly, already. Do I really need to tell ye?”

  “I don’t understand. Why would my good friend lie to my family about my death…and lie to me about her uncle?”

  He shrugged and focused back on the road. “That ye will have to ask her. The deal she made was with Featherspoon, not me.”

  “But you must know something.”


  He chuckled. “What they did was none of my concern. The children I have purchased are the only things that matter right now.”

  She folded her arms tightly across her chest and scowled. “My family is alive, and one day I will find them.”

  “Oh, my naïve Louisa. There is one thing ye do not understand yet.”

  “Then enlighten me.”

  “If yer family is alive and ye happen to find them, they will not want ye any longer. Their precious little girl has turned into a common thief.” Tsking, he shook his head. “Nobody will want ye after ye take the dowager’s jewels. Nobody…but me.”

  Tears stung her eyes as her heart finished breaking. Although she didn’t want to admit it, Macgregor was correct. Nobody would want her—not her family, and especially not Trevor.

  Her life as she knew it had turned into a hellish nightmare.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Where is that man?

  Richard Macgregor paced the small amount of floor space in his office, glancing out the window every minute as he passed. It had been two hours now since he’d taken Louisa back to the duke’s estate, and the first place Macgregor went after that was to meet Percy Featherspoon at the office. That man had promised Macgregor another child. Today.

  Richard stopped in front of the window. Outside, the street was busy with hackneys creeping down the road and couples leisurely strolling in the early afternoon as if they didn’t have a care in the world. The imps who worked for him were out in their assigned spots, watching for the best moment to pick some gent’s pocket or snatch a lady’s wrist purse.

  Because Richard had nothing to do at this particular moment but wait for Featherspoon, irritation for the man’s tardiness grew by leaps and bounds. Already, Richard wanted to throttle the man, and when given the chance, he’d surely follow through with his instincts.

  Grumbling, he raked his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t like Featherspoon to be this late. Something must have happened.