by Rebecca King
“What do they want?” she gulped.
When she couldn’t stand the sight of them a moment longer, she forced herself to tear her gaze away and focused firmly on the man who was clinging to her with equal strength. She knew he wasn’t frightened, though. Given the look on his face, he was coldly furious. “Do you know them?”
“No,” Myles replied sharply. “But I will damned well find out who they are.”
“What do they want?” Estelle asked.
“I was hoping you might be able to tell me that,” Myles replied, looking her square in the eye. “I don’t think it is me they are after, Estelle. As far as anybody in this area is concerned, I should still be in London.”
“So why are you here?” she asked, her discontent growing. “What do you mean I might be able to tell you? Are they after me?”
Myles’ sigh was heavy. He should have suspected she would barrage him with questions, but didn’t mind, really. It was reassuring that she was lucid enough to be so sharp, and may remember more details. When he looked at her, his lips curved into a wry smile.
“I am here because I got a note informing me of a family emergency that requires my presence back at home,” he replied succinctly but honestly.
“So what does that have to do with those lights?” she asked, and then squinted at him. “Are they connected?”
Myles shook his head. “I doubt it.”
I hope not in any case because if they are I have an even bigger problem on my hands, he thought with a sigh.
To Estelle, he offered her a half-hearted smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I doubt they will have the audacity to come onto this land. They had better not, or I shall have them arrested for trespassing, fog or not.”
“Why would you think they are after me?” Estelle asked. She tried to stop herself from looking in the direction of the lights again but her gaze was drawn back to them anyway. To her dismay, there was no sign of them now.
“They have gone,” she announced weakly.
Estelle turned her attention to Myles, and studied him more closely. The memory of their first meeting on the clifftop suddenly swept forward, as though carried on a wave of determination to be remembered. He had been just as handsome then. Now, the sharp blade of his jaw only emphasised his good looks. She hadn’t noticed before but every time he smiled, small dimples appeared on either side of his mouth that really were quite charming. At the moment, though, his face was carrying an almost menacing scowl.
“They appeared out of the woods while I was helping you to my curricle,” he explained. “I think they were the people who were chasing you.”
“Who are they?” she asked. “What would they want with me?”
“Can you remember anything about them at all?” She tried to think but became unnerved and swiftly blocked out the haunting imagines that began to appear out of the darkest recesses of her mind. Aware that Myles was looking at her, she shook her head but then felt guilty for having lied to him. Eventually, she sighed.
“They were cloaked figures,” she explained reluctantly. Even saying the words scared her. Surprisingly, Myles didn’t appear concerned. “Are they likely to be villagers?”
“I don’t know. Not yet, but I will find out who they are and what they think they are doing chasing women through woods. Moreover, why they have seen fit to follow me home when I have expressly told them that this is private land,” he muttered.
Their conversation was interrupted by their arrival at the hall.
“Stay here. I will shout for Cranbury.”
Estelle had no idea who Cranbury was and so remained silent while Myles clambered down from the curricle and headed straight for the front door of the huge house. Warily, she kept her gaze on the spot where she had seen the lights, and prayed she wouldn’t see them again.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I can walk, you know,” she murmured when Myles swept her off the bench seat, high into his arms.
Myles shook his head and turned toward the house. “Not until we have assessed your injuries, and especially when your feet hurt. You have had a fright and could be carrying all sorts of injuries you don’t know about yet. Just stay still.”
With that, he stalked swiftly into the house. Curious, Estelle remained quiet and clung to his broad shoulders as she studied the huge hallway they entered. Her gaze fell on a resplendent butler who closed the door behind them and came to join them, his shocked gaze scouring her from head to toe.
“Sir?” the man asked.
“Cranbury, send Chalmers to put the curricle away. Tell him to make sure he has Bert with him and that they are armed. Someone is lurking around outside; several figures in hoods from the look of it.” He ignored Cranbury’s astonished look and stalked toward the stairs without a backward look. “Send Mable up. I need her help.”
Myles put one booted foot on the bottom step, but got no further before the door to his father’s study opened and the last man he expected to see appeared in the doorway.
“Good God, it is you,” Myles gasped, his stunned gaze raking his seemingly fit and well father from head to toe.
“Of course it is me,” Barnabas retorted, his shocked gaze locked on Estelle. “Who in the blazes were you expecting?”
Myles stared at his sire in disbelief. “I don’t understand,” he murmured.
“What?” Barnabas demanded.
“You are alright,” Myles mumbled with a frown. He was so lost in a world of his own emotion that he wasn’t aware of his father walking steadily toward him.
“Of course I am alright,” Barnabas blustered. “What the blazes are you doing?” He nodded to the woman Myles had temporarily forgotten about.
Myles jerked and look down at the Estelle. Their eyes met. He realised then just how odd he looked, but was still struggling to absorb the import of his father standing before him.
“Just what in the devil is going on here?” he thundered.
Barnabas scratched the back of his head as he came to stand beside his son and what appeared to be a wild banshee in his arms. “I was hoping you might tell me.”
Myles studied his father closely but could see nothing wrong with him at all, not even a scratch.
“I thought you were dead,” he murmured weakly.
“What?”
“I had a letter telling me that you are on death’s door,” Myles snapped. “The sender told me to get home quickly because you didn’t have long.” To his disbelief, Barnabas looked thunderous but unsurprised.
“You as well, eh?” he murmured, then nodded to Estelle. “Who is this?”
Myles looked at Estelle and stared. Then stared some more. This was the first time he had taken a good look at her in proper light. What he saw made his world tilt on its axis.
“Good Lord,” he whispered for want of anything better to say.
Her position in his arms caused her head to tip backward a little, and allowed her heavy curtain of wild, tightly curled raven hair to cascade toward the floor. In doing so, it revealed her features in startling clarity to his ravenous gaze that searched every dip and each gentle sweep of soft, peachy skin.
How beautiful, he thought.
He was only faintly aware of her slight weight of her gentle curves in his arms but made no attempt to put her down or even move to shift the slight ache in his arms. Time was held suspended as he studied the delicate curve of her brows above a thick fan of lashes that were impossibly alluring. He was aware that he was being scrutinised just as closely by those wonderful blue-green eyes that seemed to change colour each time she moved, but he didn’t meet them. Instead, he studied the delicate oval of her fashionably pale features, accentuated only by the gentle sweep of cheeks tinged faintly with a peachy glow above the generous curve of her full lips which were so damned alluring he struggled not to kiss her.
“Good Lord above, where did you get her?” his father murmured as he crept closer to get a better look.
Estelle turned to look at the older
version of Myles. She knew immediately who the man was, but was a bit stymied that both men continued to talk about her as though she was completely nonsensical.
“I found her,” Myles replied blankly.
Estelle looked at Myles. She had no idea if she should prompt him for an introduction, but it seemed an odd thing to do when held so high off the ground in such an intimate hold.
For a few minutes, Myles couldn’t get his mind to work well enough to give his father a more detailed explanation of the evening’s events. His journey home had been fraught with worry the likes of which he had never experienced in his life before, or ever wanted to experience again. To then run over this delightful creature, and then be chased across the moors by an unidentified hands, brought forth a confusing mix of questions and emotions he wasn’t quite sure he could speak about just yet.
His father was nothing short of persistent, though, and scowled at him.
“Where?” he demanded.
Myles looked his father square in the eye. “I ran her over.”
“What?” Barnabas looked stunned.
“I-”
Myles interrupted Estelle when she tried to speak. “She needs to see a doctor.”
Barnabas immediately looked at the bell pull, but Myles moved to stop him.
“It is too dank outside to send anyone out there. It was because of the fog that I didn’t see her. Besides-” Myles sighed and looked at the staircase.
“What?” Barnabas demanded.
He knew there was much more his son wasn’t telling him. In normal circumstances, Barnabas would happily be patient and wait until Myles was good and ready, but then he had never seen his son in such a stunned state before. Neither had he ever stumbled home with a wild look in his eye, carrying an extremely beautiful woman he had run over. Nor had he ever had that determined, possessive look whenever he had gazed at a woman before either.
“Good Lord above,” Barnabas whispered; unsure what shocked him the most.
“I am alright,” Estelle assured them both. “I just feel a little dizzy, that’s all.”
Barnabas looked at the woman with renewed interest.
She really is rather stunning, he mused. His thoughts were interrupted by Myles who now looked thunderous.
“What’s going on, father?” Myles asked without preamble.
“I don’t know, son. You tell me,” Barnabas invited.
Myles shook his head. “I need to get her settled into a guest room.”
Barnabas looked at the woman thoughtfully.
“I think it would be better to put her in the family quarters right now, don’t you? Until she can see a doctor, it isn’t wise for her to come into contact with Vernon, don’t you think?”
Estelle glared at them balefully. She wanted to tell them both that she really was awake, and could speak for herself.
The way they kept talking around her as though she wasn’t there annoying to say the very least.
“I am alright,” she repeated. “I just ache a little. That’s all.”
“You are hurt,” Myles soothed. “We need to find out how badly.”
Estelle glared and struggled against the need to pertly remind him that she was a grown-up and could find that out for herself. She would have done too, if each time she looked at him she was able to retain a single thought in her head. As it was, he only had to look down at her with those mesmerising eyes of his and her mind went blank.
What kind of hold does he have on me? She mused a little dazedly. A high hold given you are several feet off the ground, you fool.
“The garden room,” Myles murmured.
He had forgotten about his rather eccentric uncle. Vernon could be somewhat disconcerting to anybody who was hale and hearty. To someone like Estelle, who was already mired in a world of confusion, his uncle’s strangeness could well make her run out of the house screaming.
“I think that would be wise,” Barnabas replied.
“Pardon?” Estelle said blankly.
Before Myles could say anything, Barnabas spoke.
“Good. The garden room it is then. Then you can come back and talk to me. I want more details.”
There was an air of command in Barnabas’ voice that warned Myles he would get badgered and plagued by his father until he had told him everything. Not that Myles minded. He needed some answers from his father as well. First, he had to make sure that Estelle was alright.
Estelle, he mused thoughtfully. It is a gently rounded name for a gently rounded woman.
Indeed, the more he held her the more Myles became uncomfortably aware of the low cut of the bodice of her dress, and each dip and hollow of her gently feminine curves pressed so tightly against him.
I should be shot for the thoughts I am having about an injured woman, he thought, giving himself a stern mental shake. Determined to banish all wayward thoughts to Hades, he threw his father a dour look.
“I will leave her in the garden room, and get Mabel to see to her needs for now. Don’t send anyone out for a doctor, it is too dangerous. However, make sure Cranbury checks everywhere is locked up properly tonight. It might also be a good idea to get the staff to take turns keeping watch,” Myles called as he began to ascend the stairs.
“Is someone out there?” Barnabas questioned; his scowl deep.
Myles nodded. “But not poachers,” he replied. “They are something else.”
“Something else?” Barnabas paused with one hand on the study door and turned to exchange a hard look with Myles. He knew immediately that there was some sort of threat involved, but neither of them was prepared to talk about it in front of a lady. “See to our guest first. I’ll get the brandy ready.”
“Father?” Myles called when his father was about to disappear back into his study.
When Barnabas turned around to face him, Myles was struck by how wonderful it was to know that his father was unharmed. He felt wonderfully blessed as he looked his father square in the eye.
“I am glad you are not dead,” he murmured.
“So am I, son. So am I. Hurry up. I want to hear what has happened to you. All of it, Myles, because there is more going on than you realise,” Barnabas replied.
Myles looked at him but knew immediately that he would not tell him more until they could talk more privately. Aware of the growing ache in his arms, Myles continued up the stairs.
“I will be back in a minute,” he promised.
“See that you do.” The quiet snap of the study door closing behind his father ended the conversation and left Myles alone with his thoughts as he climbed the rest of the stairs and made his way to the garden room.
Estelle studied the parts of the house she could see as Myles carried her through the house, up the sweeping staircase that led from the main entrance hall up to a galleried landing from which three corridors sprawled out like tentacles to the north, east, and west. Myles took the long corridor to the east of the upper hallway that had several doors leading off it.
“The garden room overlooks the rose garden at the side of the house,” Myles explained. “It is quite pretty. You will see it once this fog lifts.”
“This house is beautiful,” she replied, and meant it, even when encased in candle-light.
“It is huge, and old, run-down in parts, and can be draughty in winter, but it is home,” Myles explained. He had no idea why he felt the need to go into so much detail. “This side of the house is used by the family. The other corridor leading the other way leads to the guest rooms. There are eight on that side of the house as well.”
“What about the other corridor?” she whispered.
“That takes you to the servant’s stairs which lead down to the kitchen, up to the attics, and an upper floor used by the servants. It also has several cupboards for linen and the like. I will take you on a tour when you are feeling better,” Myles explained.
“I should love to see it,” she whispered but got no further because of the arrival of a middle-aged lady in a starched
uniform who followed them into a lavishly decorated bed chamber.
“Sir? Oh, my dearie me,” Mabel gasped as she began to flutter around the bed. “The master said you had an injured guest with you. I am so sorry, my dear.”
Estelle looked at Myles, unsure if the woman was talking to her or Myles.
“It’s alright, Mrs Cranbury, not to worry,” Myles replied.
Estelle turned to look at the lady, who levelled a kindly smile on her that immediately eradicated any doubts she might have about talking to a servant.
“This is Mrs Cranbury, our housekeeper,” Myles said by way of introduction. “Everyone calls her Mabel. Mabel, Estelle here has been injured this evening. She was struck by my carriage in this fog and has injured her head and her feet. See what you can do to help get her settled, and find her a change of clothing. She needs to get out of these wet clothes.”
“Oh, of course, sir. I will get Katie to come up and give me a hand,” Mabel gushed all no-nonsense briskness and efficiency.
Estelle stared at the woman warily. “I am alright,” she protested, wondering why nobody was inclined to believe her.
“But we need to get these leaves and twigs out of your hair, and I am sure you would like a nice hot bath to soothe your muscles,” Mabel began.
“I think our guest needs to rest, Mabel. Maybe a bath in the morning,” Myles interjected. He threw a rueful look at Estelle, who looked a little stunned. “You will get used to it.”
Estelle stared at him, suspecting she would never get used to being fussed over with such enthusiasm. Aware that Myles was still holding her, she pushed at his arms and began to wriggle.
Myles slowly lowered her to the ground. He watched her the whole time and saw her instinctive wince when her feet touched the ground. When he would have released her, he kept his hands on her waist to hold her steady when she was at last back on her feet but swayed alarmingly. Mabel, suddenly releasing Estelle’s problem, hurried over to the bed and tugged the covers back.