Chasing Eliza

by King, Rebecca

  “He was on the doorstep of his cottage. Nothing was around him that he could have fallen over that would cause a sufficiently heavy fall to break his neck, nor had anything fallen on him. He wasn’t found for two days. When a couple of days had passed and his boat hadn’t left harbour, some of the villagers became concerned and went to check on him. Someone, I don’t know who, hinted to my father that he had been murdered but refused to say more.”

  Eliza stared blankly down at the pile of mulch on her skirt. “Then Mr Travers went out to sea and didn’t come back.”

  Edward couldn’t really see anything unusual about a fisherman being lost at sea, but hated to cast doubt on her story sensing there was much more to come.

  Her eyes met and held his calmly. “Mr Travers was a fifth generation fisherman. He had been going out every day of his life whatever the weather, since he was five years old. There had been no storm, no high winds, and his boat was kept in pristine condition. Nobody knew what had happened to cause him to just simply disappear. My father couldn’t prove anything, so there was little he could do. But then Mr and Mrs Bartram were both found dead. Mrs Bartram was inside, and Mr Bartram outside. It appeared he had died while digging his garden.” Eliza glanced up at Edward briefly. “Again, nothing suspicious about it, only that he had been hit on the head with a blunt object and had bled profusely. His wife was found several days later tied and gagged and left in a cupboard in the kitchen. Nobody knew she was there. She had choked on her gag whilst being stuck in the cupboard.”

  “I can understand the last two being murders, but the others could have just been circumstance.” Edward argued softly, wondering if there was more to the story she was letting on, or whether grief was skewing her viewing events as they really were. He hated to see her so upset and bring her further distress by expecting her to recount such disturbing events, but there was little he could do. If he had a hope of keeping them both safe, he had to know everything that had happened – however distressing.

  “This was all in the space of two weeks Edward.” Eliza’s voice became sharp, her eyes full of absolute conviction as she stared at him. “You are talking about a small fishing port where nothing much really happened. Oh, it was busy. Ships of all sizes came and went all the time but in essence it was a busy fishing harbour, not a major port accommodating warships or the like. It was also a village and like any other village up and down the country there were deaths, but mainly young children, babies and old people. For all of these people to die in the space of two weeks was suspicious on its own, without the question of Mr Macleary’s unusual circumstance and the murders of Mr and Mrs Bartram.” It wasn’t lost on Edward that she believed the accuracy of what she was saying.

  “There were also the rumours.”

  “What rumours?” Edward settled back in his chair, wondering if any of this had anything to do with the men chasing Eliza, or whether she was rambling through the grief brought about by the events of the past day.

  “Two or three people became vocal about the suspicious nature of the deaths. They spoke to my father about it, and told him of some other facts that made my father begin to suspect Scraggan.”

  “But that’s two or three people in a small village. Gossip is bound to be rife, especially if nothing much else happens and people are trying to get your father’s attention off the smuggling activities.”

  “Edward, the people who became vocal and suggested that Scraggan was involved in the murders all turned up dead.” Eliza’s voice became harsh in the silence as she leant forwards in her chair. She had completely forgotten she was still holding the knife as she stared at him, urging her to accept the gravity of the situation that had unfolded.

  “Can you really consider that just circumstance too?” She snorted inelegantly and settled back in her chair, returning to her whittling of the apple mulch as she stared absently into the fire.

  “My father didn’t, and he began to investigate. Before the month was out, Scraggan had taken over one of the big ships in the port and had several of the more troublesome fishermen in his employ. They bullied the smaller fishermen into joining them. Those who didn’t join lived in fear for their lives. Some disappeared, leaving their families behind. Some disappeared with their families. As weeks passed Scraggan’s group became bigger and more threatening. Before long, someone mentioned to my father that it wasn’t just goods they were smuggling.” Eliza looked pointedly at him, watching wariness appear on his face.

  “You mean spies?” Edward’s voice was hard and uncompromising. He immediately thought of his brother Dominic, who had been sent to deal with a ruthless band of smugglers in Norfolk prior to Isobel being kidnapped.

  Eliza nodded slowly. “My father began to investigate. There were some in the village who carried on regardless, keeping a wary eye on Scraggan while remaining a healthy distance from him. They watched and reported to my father, but obviously lived in fear of their own lives.”

  “Why didn’t your father send you away? He must have known you were in considerable danger yourselves.”

  “We were a close knit family. I was eight years when my mother passed away, leaving myself and Jemima to depend upon my father. He idolised mother and never seemed to recover from losing her. Instead he turned his attention to raising us as best he could.” Eliza saw the scepticism steel over Edward’s face and became defensive.

  “It might not be your kind of upbringing, but it was sufficient for me.” She snapped waspishly, feeling emboldened by her small display of temper. “When I was old enough I began to look after the house. Jemima, being older and at the time faster with her writing, helped my father with his papers.”

  Edward watched the myriad of emotions flicker across her beautiful face and felt a keen sting of respect and a small flicker of jealousy for her ready defence of her family. Undoubtedly it had been tough for her father to raise two girls alone, especially while carrying out the duties of a magistrate. But Edward couldn’t accept that the man had allowed the girls to remain in the middle of such impending danger.

  Any daughter of his would have been safely ensconced in the most secure place he could find and wouldn’t be allowed out until the danger had passed. The thought of a daughter with amber eyes and long, dark blond hair floated temptingly in his mind, teasing him with possibilities.

  “Jemima knows far more about father’s work than I do.” Eliza declared softly, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace blankly.

  “Do you think that is why Scraggan is after you? To find out what you both know?” Edward queried.

  “They knew my father was asking questions. He found something out and suddenly announced he had to go and see someone in the War Office.” Eliza shifted uncomfortably in her seat, choosing her words carefully. “He said he would be back within a week.”

  “But he wasn’t.” Edward finished for her flatly, unsurprised when she shook her head slowly, tears shimmering on her beautiful lashes.

  “On the day he was due back, I decided we should have a nice celebratory supper. I began to walk into the village for some bits and pieces for a treat. It was such a lovely day, the sun was shining and despite the blustery winds, it was really quite pleasant. As I walked down the lane, I came across a group of horses standing by themselves, saddled but loose in the middle of the road with no riders.” Her voice became husky with suppressed emotion as she remembered that fateful morning when her life was shattered.

  “I recognised my father’s horse and at first couldn’t understand why she was there – or where my father was. She appeared scared and restless and wouldn’t let me approach her. It took me some time to calm her down, then as I turned I noticed someone’s legs in the adjacent field. I wasn’t sure if someone had become ill, or fallen off or something, so went to take a look. My father travelled to London with his assistant and two out-riders for protection. All four men were lying in the field.” Eliza’s voice trembled with tears as she sought to find the right words to convey the graphic sc
ene that had met her.

  “They had been murdered. Each man’s throat had been cut.” She couldn’t suppress the tears that flowed freely down her pale cheeks as the memories of the grass stained brown with blood, and the lifeless stare of her beloved father.

  Edward stood, and drew her gently into his arms. Suddenly her reaction to seeing the men he had shot in the field made perfect sense. He rested his chin lightly on the top of her head as she gave herself over the grief of losing her father and guardian, made increasingly raw by her witnessing the killing of the two men last night.

  He held her while she vented the grief that until now she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge. The tears suddenly seemed unstoppable as she leant against the solid comfort of his shoulder, his long arms around her waist holding her close as she sobbed.

  “My father had been beaten before he was-.” Eliza hiccupped around the word, unable to finish her description of the graphic scene that had awaited her that morning.

  “They were trying to get information out of him.”

  After several moments, she quietened down enough for him to ease backwards and look down into her face. Her amber eyes were filled with so much pain that his heart clenched with frustration at his inability to ease her angst. He felt the physical pull of attraction draw him closer and it took every ounce of self control he had not to succumb to the tempting curve of her lips as she gazed at him.

  She wasn’t a noisy crier. No raucous wailing or loud sobs. The large, round tears that slowly slid down her alabaster cheeks unmanned him and had more of a profound effect on his heart than he wanted to acknowledge. He found himself wanting to do whatever she needed to ease her heartache and offer her comfort.

  In that moment he knew that the possibility of just handing her over to Peter to deal with had vanished and if he was honest, he wasn’t sure if he was all that sorry. While he didn’t relish taking on a band of marauding smugglers, he knew if he did hand her over to Peter and go on his merry way, he wouldn’t settle until he knew Scraggan had been dealt with and would worry about her safety and wellbeing until the matter was closed.

  Briefly he wondered if this was how Dominic and Sebastian had felt when they had dealt with the situations Isobel and Amelia had been involved in. He began to wonder if his heart was more involved than his common sense but knew there was little he could do about it.

  “I’m sorry.” Eliza whispered, easing out of his arms reluctantly after several long minutes of self pity. She brushed absently at his shirt. “I seem to have gotten your shirt wet.”

  “It’s alright.” Edward murmured, concerned with how reluctant he was to release his hold on her. He kept her from withdrawing completely by tightening his hold on her waist, settling her all too comfortably against him.

  “I want to know where you are so intent on going to.”

  Eliza sighed deeply and stared up at him in consideration for several quiet moments. She had to crane he neck to look him in the eye he was so tall. Even staring down at her as he was, he was so incredibly handsome that he made her yearn for something she couldn’t identify.

  “How did you find me in the inn?” She asked, carefully delaying answering his question.

  Edward sensed her reluctance and wondered at the cause. As far as he was concerned he had done nothing that would give her pause to doubt him, or consider him a threat. He refused to relinquish his hold when she would have eased away and instead, held her firmly in front of him, silently demanding they deal with matters here and now.

  “If we are to go any further, we have to be completely honest with each other.” Edward warned, waiting patiently until her gaze met his steady regard. “I am no threat to you. Everything I have told you has been the truth, but I cannot continue to protect you unless I know everything, especially where you intend to go. We cannot go haring off across the country without any destination in mind. Something tells me you know exactly where you are going.”

  “I am going back to Padstow.”

  Edward stared at her nonplussed for a moment, wondering if he had missed something.

  Eliza knew from the scepticism on his face that he didn’t believe her. Carefully she lifted his hands off her waist and held them in hers while she spoke. Her voice trembled with a mixture of emotions as she stared down at their clasped hands.

  “I cannot ask you to come with me. The dangers involved pose too much of a threat to your life.” She looked up at him beseechingly with water-filled eyes. “It would help me greatly if you went on your way and forgot about me entirely.” She wished he wouldn’t, but had to put the option forward to him given the risks involved.

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “How do you think Peter would feel if you got yourself killed by becoming involved in this through some moral obligation to him?” Eliza argued, dropping his hands and resuming her seat in front of the fire. “You have an obligation to keep yourself safe from harm.”

  “I cannot let you go on your own now. I am a man first and foremost and it is my duty to look after you.”

  “I am nothing to you!” Eliza protested, her voice rising with temper. “I am not your wife, your sister or your intended. I am merely a tavern wench whom you stumbled upon one evening who is related to someone your friend may or may not be looking for.”

  “Eliza.” Edward began wearily feeling exhaustion pulling at him. The tempting thought of lying on the bed with Eliza wrapped safely in his arms swam into his mind and predictably his body began to respond.

  “I am going to Padstow, preferably without you.” Eliza declared flatly, her tone daring him to argue or try to persuade her otherwise.

  “Why?” Edward asked grabbing her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake in frustration. “What the hell could be in Padstow that you would risk your life for?” He dropped his hands and stood back warily. “Are you married? Do you have a child there or something?”

  Eliza scowled at him and considered her words carefully. “Before my father left for the War Office, he told us about a hiding place he had created within the house we lived in. He told us that if he didn’t return, then we were to use the contents of the hiding place freely.”

  “Money?” Edward frowned, wondering if that was all that the hiding place contained. If she was determined to go to Padstow solely to get the money to live off, then he could help her and give her all of the funds she required. Indeed, he had an ever growing feeling that she would never have to consider financial problems again without ever needing to go to Padstow.

  “Not just money. My father left numerous small items in there for us. But when he didn’t return and Scraggan started to make pointed threats, it became apparent that Jemima and I had to leave. Before we did, we agreed that if anything happened to either of us and we were found alone, we would use the conte-.” Eliza glanced at him with a sigh. “-money, and leave a note to say where we were going. We would leave an address if possible so the other person knew where to look. If Jemima is alive and out there, she could have gone to Padstow to collect the money and find herself somewhere safe to live until I could get to her.”

  “But would she do that knowing Scraggan was after you? I mean to go to Padstow and use the money was dangerous, but acceptable. But would she do that, knowing that she would lead you there too and place you in danger?” Edward reasoned.

  “I don’t know, but there is nothing else I can do. Jemima simply vanished, Edward. She could have disappeared because Scraggan got too close to her. I know that if she is out there and by herself, then she would need the money from the hiding place to live off.” She didn’t add that she too needed the money as much as Jemima did. “If she hasn’t been back to Padstow, then I think she must be back in Derby somewhere, but well hidden. But I need the money to live off while I try and find her.”

  “What will you do if Jemima has been to Padstow and taken the money to live off?” Edward studied her closely, wondering how she planned to finance her own quest for Jemima. The single g
old coin he had given her certainly wouldn’t be enough to furnish her with food and accommodation for the several nights it would take her to get to Padstow and back, and reside near to Derby while she looked for her sister. He was certain Eliza hadn’t considered all of the problems she faced beyond the threat of Scraggan. After all she was a single, beautiful woman travelling alone. She’d be lucky if she got half way to Padstow with her virtue intact, and the threat wasn’t altogether just coming from other travellers.

  Indeed, although she may not know it yet the biggest threat to her virtue came from the man standing before her.

  “Eliza, Peter has been searching Derby for several months now.” Edward reasoned softly. “Believe me when I say he – we – have all been very thorough.” He hated to break the news to her. “I think if Jemima was still in Derby, we would have found her by now. I think that she must have left not long after you saw her last.” He didn’t add that Jemima may well have known it was the last time she would see her sister and had chosen not to tell Eliza she was about to go.

  He suddenly felt angry with the elder sister for her seemingly selfish disregard of her younger sibling’s distress at having her only living relation simply vanish.

  “Look, I cannot in all conscience agree to you going to Padstow alone. Not with the threat of Scraggan and his men. But I cannot fight a smuggling gang by myself.” He reasoned, feeling a sense of fait accompli settle over him. “I need backup from Peter and my brothers if they are available. We will get you to Padstow and back out again without ruffling a hair on your beautiful head.” His boast was simple truth that made his voice ring with absolute conviction that they would succeed in their quest.

  “But I want you to promise me something in return.” He caught her gaze with hard and determined eyes leaving her in no doubt that there was no alternative to the one he was about to suggest. “Once you have been to Padstow, you will return to Leicestershire to wait while Peter and I go after Jemima.”