Richard’s heartbeat paused as his mind took a different direction. Could Percy had been discovered by the police and taken to the gaol? Or perhaps that insipid niece of Featherspoon’s has the man dancing around her selfish demands once again. The woman was almost as crafty as Richard, himself.
He scratched his ear. Perhaps it was now time to meet the young lady face-to-face. For years, he’d known about her hold on Featherspoon, which was the very key that kept the worthless man working for Richard. He’d threatened Featherspoon many times to take Miss Eliza Watson and teach her how to work the streets. Perhaps now was the time to follow through with the threat. Of course, the girl was past the age he needed, but she would serve him well as a harlot—just as Louisa would eventually.
After hurrying out of his office and locking the door, he took fast steps to his steed and mounted. There was no time to waste since he was losing daylight fast. Thankfully, he’d known about Miss Watson’s life through Featherspoon, and if Richard didn’t act quickly, the young maiden would soon be the wife to Lord Wellesley. Richard could not let that happen now. But first, he must find Featherspoon and drag him along in order to be formally introduced to Miss Watson.
Kicking his heels into the horse’s belly, he urged the animal faster toward Featherspoon’s pitiful home. If that man didn’t drink himself into oblivion every day, he might wonder why Richard did not pay him well.
He chuckled. Once again, he enjoyed being in control and making people bend to his will.
As he neared the meager cottage of his colleague, a long wagon, two carriages, and several horses stood vacated in front. Curious, Richard slowed his steed and crept closer. All the occupants to these vehicles clustered near the front porch. A fancy dressed young lady stood out amongst a handful of working men, with the girl’s maid lingering close by. A man—who Richard had tried his best to avoid—asked the young lady questions. When she turned and Richard saw her face, recognition struck like a blow to the forehead.
Miss Watson.
Yet why was she talking to the local constable?
Panic clutched Richard’s heart. Featherspoon’s niece must have ratted out her uncle.
Gritting his teeth, Richard pulled his horse to a halt. He’d like nothing better than to get his hands on that girl and teach her what happens when people cross him.
Another movement drew his attention to the porch as two men lifted a body draped in a blanket and carried it to the wagon. Eliza held a white lacey handkerchief to her mouth as the men moved the covered body past her. Hesitantly, she touched the blanket only to quickly withdraw her hand.
Oh good heavens… That body was Featherspoon. Richard knew it. How did the poor man end up dead?
Richard backed his horse into the trees so as not to be spotted. His mind twirled with questions. With Featherspoon dead, where would Richard get his children? And speaking of children…where was the one Percy had promised Richard? He scanned the surroundings again, but didn’t see a young lad.
Within minutes, the wagon started on its way, and the constable and two men quickly followed. Richard waited until they rode past before he rode up the drive. Miss Watson and her maid were climbing in their curricle. The blue gown she wore and the white bonnet and matching shawl seemed vaguely familiar. He knew he’d seen Eliza earlier today, but where?
Suddenly, it hit him. He’d seen Eliza at the same house Louisa had been in front of, daydreaming. Pieces of the puzzle started fitting together, and he grinned like a child on Christmas. The house Louisa had been looking at had been her true family’s house. Eliza was soon to be Lady Wellesley—and Frank Hamilton lived with the Earl of Danvers.
In the early years after Richard had purchased Louisa, she mentioned her friend—the one whose uncle had took her after her family had died. Chuckling, Richard shook his head. What would Louisa think if she knew her school friend was marrying into the family?
As Richard rode closer to the two women sitting in the vehicle, Eliza’s gaze fell upon him. He bowed slightly and smiled. “Good afternoon.”
“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked in a sweet honey-toned voice.
“I have come to visit my friend, Mr. Featherspoon.”
Frowning, Eliza shook her head. “You are too late. My uncle died earlier. His body was just taken to the morgue, in fact.”
Gasping, Richard acted shocked over the news. “How terrible. Do ye know how he died?”
“He was murdered. Someone hit him on the back of the head with a thick piece of wood.”
He shook his head. “Such terrible news, indeed.”
Eliza’s gaze swept over him slowly. Disgust gradually appeared on her expression. “Pardon me, but may I ask your name?”
“Certainly.” He jumped off his horse and bowed again. “I’m Mr. Macgregor.”
Her eyes widened for a split second. Even the color in her cheeks disappeared. Indeed, she had heard of him.
Her throat constricted as she lifted her chin. “Well, I’m sorry we had to meet under such dire circumstances, but I must be on my way home to inform my family of my uncle’s passing.”
She flipped the reins to urge the horse forward, but Richard grasped the harness and stopped the animal. “One moment more.” He waited for her reaction and was pleased when a hint of fear crept across her face.
“I really need to return home, Mr. Macgregor.”
“As I’m certain ye do, but what I have to say will only take a moment, I assure ye.”
“Please hurry then.”
He stepped closer to her side of the vehicle. Eliza’s back stiffened and she held the reins so tight her knuckles turned white. Beside her, the maid appeared just as frightened as she scooted closer to Eliza.
“Miss Watson, I know ye know who I am and about the relationship I had with yer uncle.”
“I—I fear I do not know what you are referring to.”
“There’s no need to lie, Miss Watson. Yer uncle spoke of ye quite often and I feel I know ye well.” He flipped his hand. “But because of the untimely death of yer uncle, I’m afraid I will now have to find someone to replace him as my business partner.”
She didn’t speak, just stared intently into his eyes.
He continued, “It wasn’t until a few minutes ago, when I realized who the fortunate person would be to take his place.”
She licked her lips. “Who?”
He smiled wide. “Miss Watson, I believe ye are the perfect person to take over where yer uncle left off.”
The maid gasped and placed her hand over her mouth. Eliza laughed, but it sounded forced. “Mr. Macgregor, I do not think—”
“Because if ye don’t,” he quickly went on, “I will allow yer friend, Louisa, to meet the family she thought died in a fire six years ago—and especially, the friend who created the lie.”
Finally, the color in her face finished fading. He knew he had her now.
“Mr. Macgregor,” she said with a shaky voice, “I really have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Indeed you do, Miss Watson.”
“Please move out of my way or I shall run you over.” She shouted a command to the horse and flicked the reins again.
“I shall give you twenty-four hours to decide,” he called loudly as the curricle rode off.
Rubbing his hands together, he snickered as he walked toward his horse. His plans were unfolding nicely. Once again—after a few weeks of uncertainty—he had control of his life.
* * * *
The sun dipped low in the horizon, bringing shades of pink to the sky. Trevor rode his steed hard as he headed back to the house before dusk settled over the land. Anticipation drummed inside of him with each pound from the horse’s hooves. He couldn’t wait to tell Louisa what he’d discovered. Hopefully, she’d be overjoyed, and maybe she could even remember something about her past—anything that would lead them back to the identity of her family.
He had now helped two boys who Featherspoon had told were orphans,
but Trevor found the families and reunited them. Certainly, this would be happy news for Louisa’s situation.
He hadn’t seen her in a couple of days, and although he’d been kept busy, he missed watching her care for his children. He missed her smile, her infectious laugh, and her dreamy gaze when she looked at him. Another thing he longed for was feeling the warmth of her soft body while in his arms, and the sweetness of her tender touch. And heaven help him, he missed the desire stirring inside of him whenever they kissed.
More than anything he wanted to help Louisa discover her past. He wanted her family to be alive. She might be the Danvers’ daughter, but if that were the case, then she’d be engaged to Lord Wellesley. Although, the man was within weeks of marrying another. It didn’t matter. Trevor loved Louisa and he knew she returned his affection, and everything else could be worked out.
He reached the manor just as the sun disappeared and night’s shadows took over. After dismounting and tossing the reins to the groomsman, Trevor darted up the steps and hurried inside his house. Hobbs came out of the parlor and greeted him with a bow.
“Welcome home, Your Grace.”
He smiled. “Hobbs, have you seen Miss Louisa and my children?”
“I believe they finished their dinner not long ago and are now in the nursery.”
“Splendid.” Trevor nodded. “I shall go see them right away.”
Taking the stairs two at a time, he sprinted toward the nursery, anxious to see his children—but especially Louisa. He reached the door and paused, taking a deep breath. He didn’t want to appear like he’d run the whole way.
Slowly, he opened the door and peeked inside. Louisa sat on a chair with the twins on her lap, reading them a bedtime story. The children—already in their night clothes—focused on the pictures, but every so often looked up at Louisa with spellbound expressions.
A grin stole across Trevor’s face. The love Adam and Amanda had for her shone in their eyes. Trevor’s heart melted. He knew how the twins felt since he had had the same emotions inside him for quite some time.
When he lifted his gaze to peer into Louisa’s face… His heart dropped. Something was wrong. Dreadfully wrong. Gone was the sparkle he enjoyed watching dance in her eyes. Gone was the beautiful smile that lit her face. Even the tone of her voice seemed forlorn.
Although she’d been distant since their trip to the circus, the way she looked today was so very different. As if there was nothing inside her—no energy, no happiness. Nothing. As if despair had taken over and left only a shell of a woman.
He needed to speak with her, but couldn’t have the children around because he was certain Louisa would become emotional and that would only upset Adam and Amanda. Quietly, he pulled the door closed then went in search of Mrs. Smythe. He found her in the kitchen and motioned for her to step into the dining room.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” she said after leaving the kitchen. “It is a pleasure to see you home early today knowing how busy you have been.”
“Indeed, Mrs. Smythe, I have been quite busy. Could you go upstairs and ask Miss Louisa to come to my study? I need to speak with her posthaste.”
She nodded. “She just returned home herself a half hour ago.”
“She did?”
“Yes. This morning she needed to go to the place where you hit her with your curricle to see if she could force her memory to return.”
“And? Did it return?”
Frowning, the housekeeper shook her head. “I don’t believe so, Your Grace. Miss Louisa has been very quiet and is keeping to herself.”
“It sounds like I definitely need to speak with her, then.”
“Shall I watch the children until you are finished with her?”
“If you will, I shall appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
“Very well.”
He hurried into his study, closed the door, and poured himself a drink. As he paced the floor, he shrugged out of his overcoat, content to wear just his waistcoat over his shirt. A small fire had already been burning in the hearth, which warmed the room considerably. Nice and cozy. Just the way he liked it.
It took about ten minutes, but soon a knock came upon the door. “Come in.”
The door opened, and Louisa entered. Her sad expression tugged at his heart. He’d do anything to make her happy again.
“You wanted to see me, Your Grace?”
“Yes. Please close the door.”
She did as instructed, then walked closer. “Have I done something that displeases you?”
“Indeed you have, Louisa.” Slowly, he stepped toward her, stopping mere inches in front. “You didn’t say my name.” He smiled.
She returned a smile, but it seemed as if she struggled to make her lips curve upward. Her eyes didn’t twinkle like they used to, either. “Forgive me, Trevor. I have been out of sorts of late.”
He cupped her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing circles on her arms. “I realize this, Louisa. You have been distant ever since the circus. Please, let me help you.”
“If only you could.”
“Mrs. Smythe tells me you went to the place where I hit you to see if your memory would return.”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“I’m assuming by your silence that your memory has not returned.”
Tears glistened in her eyes as she pulled away from him and moved to the hearth. “Oh, Trevor. Sometimes I feel as if I will never get my life back.”
Her body trembled slightly, so he stepped behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. “You don’t need your life back, my dear. You have a new life here.”
She stroked his arms and laid the back of her head against his chest. “I know I do, I just wish…” She breathed deeply, then released it in a gush.
“Louisa, these past couple of days I have discovered some things about your past.”
Her body stiffened. “What…have you discovered?”
“Your family might be alive,” he whispered in her ear.
She turned in his arms and faced him. He kept his arms around her waist, not wanting her to leave.
“Are you certain?” she asked.
He nodded. “I met a boy who had worked with you under Macgregor’s control. I discovered this boy was told his family died in a house fire. The next day I met another boy who was about to be sold to Macgregor, and his story mirrored the other. Because of the coincidence, I decided to find out what really happened. I found each boy’s family—alive.”
“But how is all this related to my situation?”
Trevor sighed heavily and sat on the edge of his desk, pulling her in a more intimate position toward him. “Each boy talked about a man who’d told them about their family’s death. Mr. Percy Featherspoon.”
He waited for any kind of recognition—a memory to immerge or anything. Her face remained blank. “This name doesn’t sound familiar to you at all?”
She shrugged.
“Please, Louisa. Try to remember. This is vital to my discovery.”
She closed her eyes. During the few silent moment, he took advantage of admiring her features. Lovely, long lashes, perky little nose, kissable lips. Beautiful blonde hair he loved to stroke when she left it down. Skin so flawless, and so soft. On impulse, he lifted his knuckles and gently brushed them across her cheek. Louisa’s eyes flew open, but she didn’t pull away.
“I—I think I remember a man by this name. I recall he was my friend’s uncle.”
Confusion washed over him and he crinkled his brow. “Your friend’s uncle, you say? Do you remember your friend’s name?”
Her head moved slowly in a nod. “Eliza.”
“Your memory is returning. In time you shall remember everything.”
“I pray you are correct.”
“From the information I collect, Mr. Featherspoon was the man responsible for kidnapping children and selling them to Mr. Macgregor.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t speak. He cont
inued, “I found Mr. Featherspoon yesterday and spoke with the man.”
She gasped and clutched his hands. “Indeed? What did he say?”
“At first he acted as if he didn’t kidnap children, but that he took orphans in and found them homes. However, I pointed out the two boys I had talked with and found their families alive.” He rubbed his fingers across hers. “I kept questioning him about you. What I found out was that you were born of nobility.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “Did…he say who my parents were?”
“Unfortunately, no. The man met his Maker quicker than I would have liked.”
“He died? How?”
“One of the children he had recently kidnapped crushed Mr. Featherspoon’s skull. The boy had been listening to us and snuck up behind his kidnapper and killed him.”
A deep breath expelled from her mouth. “I have to admit, how relieved I am to hear that. Too bad the same fate could not come to Macgregor any time soon.”
“If I have my way, it will.”
A few more tears slid down her cheeks and he swiped them away with his thumb.
“If only I could believe that, but I know Macgregor, Trevor. He is a calculating, evil man. You do not want to cross him. Even now I fear for your life because you have been asking questions about him.”
“Shhh…” He pulled her against his chest, resting her head just under his chin. “No need to fear, my love. I shall protect you. Always.”
He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering. How could he help it? Kissing this woman became an addiction to him…one that he never wanted to leave. She lifted her head. Her moist eyes tore at his heart, and the frightened, empty look in her eyes worried him.
“Trevor, you are the most thoughtful person I have ever met. I feel so safe in your arms. I just wish I could feel that even when we are apart. Then, and only then, shall I truly feel safe.”
He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “If I could keep you in my arms all the time, I would. You are constantly in my thoughts and in my heart.” He cupped the side of her face. “Louisa, I’m completely in love—”
She cut off his words when she lifted her mouth to his, silencing him. The kiss was so very sweet, yet there seemed to be desperation to her actions that he couldn’t explain. She grasped his shirt, opening her mouth as she deepened the kiss.
The Sweetest Touch Page 22