Eliza felt the prickle of tears in her eyes as she stared at him. The possibility that someone was willing to help her search for her errant sibling was overwhelming given the risk Scraggan posed to everyone’s wellbeing.
“Peter must care about Jemima very much.” She murmured softly unaware of the loneliness that echoed through her own softly spoken words.
“I think he must.” Edward muttered on a sigh, wondering if it was Peter who would be the next one succumbing to the parson’s trap - or himself. Somehow he had a sneaking feeling it wouldn’t be Peter but was loathed to admit it, even to himself. He hated the thought of Eliza being alone and facing the possibility of being kidnapped, murdered and god knows what else in between – driven purely by the need to find her relation.
“Is that so wrong?” Eliza queried, studying the dark scowl that had settled over his face with a shiver.
Edward studied her for several moments, thinking of his own aversion to marriage. It wasn’t that he had anything against the institution of marriage per se, it was just that he had no intention becoming enslaved to anyone. His brothers were completely devoted to their wives who had them wrapped neatly around their little fingers and knew it. Peter had spent hundreds of pounds and months searching for someone who had the ability to turn him inside out without even being there apparently. The thought of anyone having such control over him made him shift uncomfortably with the need to protect his independence.
“Are you married?” She wasn’t sure where the question came from but couldn’t draw it back, mentally wincing as the words fell like pebbles on a pond between them. It disturbed her greatly that her heart was thumping heavily in her chest, and her stomach coiled in a tense knot in anticipation of his answer.
“Do you really think I would be here if I was?”
“You just seem so cynical about marriage, I wondered if you were tied into an unhappy union.” Eliza was almost defensive as she plucked another apple from the basket before sitting again and peeling it. She was glad for the diversion. She could feel his penetrating stare studying her carefully yet daren’t raise her eyes to meet his.
“I have no intention of getting caught in that foolhardy trap.” Edward snapped. “Marriage is for fools.”
“I thought your brothers were married.”
“They are. But they paid a significant price to get there.” He replied, his voice clipped in the quiet of the room.
“They have expensive wives?” She knew that wasn’t what he meant but it felt good to poke him a little.
Edward sighed and rolled his eyes, glaring at her balefully. He knew she was baiting him, and couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or pleased that she had lost a little of the haunted look around her eyes.
“They are trouble. All women are trouble.” At Eliza’s raised eyebrows, he motioned towards her. “Look at you. You are a fine example of how much trouble women are.”
“I didn’t ask you to get yourself involved.” Eliza replied somewhat defensively.
“I know but I am involved anyway.”
“Because of your relationship with Peter.” She replied pointedly. “Feel free to leave whenever you want to.” She added quietly, her eyes meeting his in silent challenge.
“I will despatch a note to Peter and ask him to catch up with us. If my brothers are available to assist, it would help us significantly to have additional manpower, but if not then we will have to manage without them. I need someone who is handy with a scabbard and pistol at my back.” He raised a teasing brow in her direction. “I don’t suppose your father taught you how to use either, did he?”
Eliza shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry. I can ride, and run a house but I have never used either a scabbard or a pistol.”
“Then you have to start.” Edward declared firmly. “If you are going to take on the likes of this man Scraggan, you have to know how to defend yourself.”
Eliza held a hand up in protest. “I am not going to ‘take him on’ as you declare. I can get in and out of Padstow without being seen and will undoubtedly find it easier if you are not with me. Meantime I have no intention of using a scabbard or a pistol on anyone.”
“You have to know how to hold both of them at least. If a situation does arise where you are directly challenged and believe me I sincerely hope it doesn’t, then you will need to at least look as though you know what you are doing. It may just give you an advantage because your would-be attackers won’t expect you to be handy with them.”
He sincerely hoped that she wouldn’t have cause to use it, but it wouldn’t hurt for her to be a little on edge. Being more alert to the dangers around her, wary of everything – including him - would give her a distinct advantage in the event of an attack and hopefully help him remain at arm’s length.
“Come here.” He ordered, oblivious to the ring of steel as he slid his scabbard out of its sheath.
Eliza stared at the shiny blade in growing dread and shook her head. “I am not even going to touch that thing.” She declared firmly, crossing her arms in defiance as she glared at the wicked looking blade.
Edward fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Come on. If you are going to come across Scraggan, then you will see more than this one. You need to know how it feels, what it does.”
“I know what it does.” Eliza interrupted. “I have no intention of using one.”
“Eliza.”
“No!”
“Eliza.” Edward’s patience began to wear thin. “Do you want me to help you or not?”
“No.” Eliza declared flatly. “I want you to go to Oxfordshire, or wherever it is you come from and forget about me.”
“Not an option, we have already been through that.”
Eliza jumped as he suddenly presented her with the handle of the wicked looking scabbard he was holding. It was much smaller than the sword, far less imposing but the sight of it still had the ability to turn her into a quivering wreck.
Cautiously she reached out to take it from him with a trembling hand.
It was far heavier than she expected. She looked closely at the brilliant sheen on the highly polished metal with a shudder and felt sick to her toes. The blade had serrated edges at the tip and would be enough to give anyone on the receiving end a lot to worry about. She wondered if she could ever find the strength to use it on anyone, even someone who was attacking her and doubted she could.
Staring blankly at it, she turned it over and over in her hands for several moments, assessing its size and weight. It looked like something that would have killed her father and his men.
“Here, hold it like this.” Edward moved her fingers around the handle, showing her how to hold her fingers against the hilt of the wicked looking object. His hands were large and warm and strangely reassuring as they wrapped around hers. He urged her to stand and showed her how to position herself and where on the body to use it to the best advantage.
“Stop!” Eliza gasped several moments later, feeling bile rise in her throat at the prospect of cutting anyone from breast to navel without a qualm. “I can’t use this on anyone.” She shook her head and handed the wicked object back to him with a shudder.
“You may need to. Consider what you are going into.” Edward declared flatly, determined that she should at least know how to protect herself. He had no intention of allowing anyone to get anywhere near her beautiful head, and would gladly lay down his life to protect her, but he needed the reassurance of knowing she would be able to hold off any would-be kidnappers if the situation arose.
“I know.” Eliza replied, feeling panic build. “If the time comes, I don’t know what I shall do. Let’s hope that it doesn’t come to that.” She muttered, turning away from him to gather her shattered nerves.
“So Jemima helped your father with his writing and probably knew who his contacts were, and what information he took to the War Office.” Edward questioned having resumed his seat and allowed several moments of silence for Eliza settle down. Only when he could see the trem
bling in her fingers had eased and some of the colour had returned to her face, did he probe her for more information.
Eliza nodded, following his train of thought.
“So what does he want with you?”
Eliza studied him for several moments, considering her reply. “I think he may need to know what information I may have about who my father was going to meet in the War Office, and what information he was taking.”
“The fact that he still wants you points to the possibility that he doesn’t have the information already.” Edward argued, seeking to resolve her earlier upset.
“Meaning Jemima is still alive?” Eliza’s heart swelled at the possibility and she studied him with a heart full of hope shining in her eyes.
Edward hated to extinguish the light but felt that Jemima may already be dead; having fallen victim to Scraggan’s ruthlessness at the time she disappeared.
“Meaning that Scraggan is still looking for answers and while he needs you, we have the advantage.” Edward reasoned, hoping deep within his heart that he was being as truthful as possible in his analysis of the situation.
“Why?” Eliza frowned, trying to pick up on his reasoning.
“Because they want you but we are the only ones at the moment who know where you are. I think I have found a perfect way for us to get down to Padstow without being discovered.” Thinking of the way Izzy had escaped from her uncle’s brutal guardianship.
Eliza stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, and mumbled an apology as it was immediately followed with another one just as wide.
“Time for bed.”
Throughout their exchange they had both been valiantly trying to ignore the huge expanse of bed waiting only a few feet away. Now that exhaustion was pulling at them both, it was inevitable that they would have to deal with the immediate problem they were now faced with.
“I will go and get some more brandy from the tap, while you get yourself into bed.” Edward heaved his bulk wearily out of the chair and made his way across the room, aware of her eyes following him.
“Where will you be sleeping?” Her pert question stopped him at the door.
He studied the faint flush that had tinted her cheeks a rosy peach colour and wondered why he hadn’t mentioned going to bed before in order to get her looking less pale. His body predictably began to respond with the prospect of her being naked between the white sheets, and he turned away from the room slightly so she couldn’t see the evidence of his wayward body’s interest in her.
“I’m sleeping on the bed. I won’t leave you here by yourself Eliza.” Edward muttered, taking the key from the door and pocketing it. “Don’t leave the room until I get back.” He didn’t wait for her acquiescence and closed the door firmly behind him with a heavy thud.
Chapter Six
The following morning Eliza was already up and about when Edward began to stir on the bed. He had removed his boots and shirt and sometime during the night had found his way beneath the covers to seek out the warmth of Eliza without even realising it. Once or twice during the night he had woken to find her nestled against him. He knew he should do the responsible thing and ease his arms away from her and put some distance between them, but the feel of her feminine curves against him was too delicious.
He had no intention of taking her virtue; she had enough on her plate to deal with at the moment, without being compromised as well. But he considered he deserved at least some reward for the lengths he was going to in an effort to keep her safe from Scraggan’s clutches and had decided to claim his reward, sliding closer to her and tugging her flush against him before falling back asleep.
Eliza had awoken wrapped in Edward’s strong arms, her cheek resting against the solid muscle of his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat broke her slumber and she had lain perfectly still for several long minutes with the rough hairs on his chest tickling her cheek, simply enjoying the comfort and protection that was quintessentially Edward. Eventually, she had begun to feel slightly uncomfortable about the intimacy of their position and how Edward would react finding her draped senselessly over him. She couldn’t bear any awkwardness between them and had reluctantly eased out of the bed, dressing and ordering breakfast without disturbing him.
It was the scent of bacon and toast that teased him awake. Instinctively he rolled over, his hands sliding across the soft sheets in search of Eliza’s now familiar curves. His slumberous eyes studied the room for several moments before with a jaw-popping yawn he rose onto his elbows. His eyes landed squarely on Eliza as she unloaded the trays, arranging a vast array of foods out for their morning feast. It was a picture of domesticated tranquillity that made him pause and consider her for several moments.
Would life really be so bad if he woke to such a sight in a morning? His heart knew he could wake to watch her carry out such mundane domesticity in a morning and never get tired of it. If they hadn’t got a murderous smuggler chasing them, or the mystery of her missing sister to solve, then life would be just about perfect.
“Good morning.”
The sound of his richly masculine voice rumbled across the room. Eliza jumped in alarm and she whirled to stare at him. The tempting sight of his chest bared to the waist, and his slumberous gaze made her want to sweep the tumbled locks off his forehead and share a morning kiss. Her soul cried out for the ability to take such familiar liberties with him, but she knew it was highly unlikely and felt a wave of longing for something out of her reach.
“Good morning. I took the liberty of ordering breakfast.” Eliza murmured, pouring tea and helping herself to an array of foods from the tempting display set out before her. She kept her gaze firmly fixed on the food and away from Edward as he left the bed and donned his shirt. He appeared in her vision moments later, hungrily eyeing the feast before them.
“We need to leave today.” His stomach was pleasantly full several minutes later and he sat back in his seat to watch her finish her meal. “But there is a problem.”
Eliza frowned at him, silently waiting for him to continue.
“We have the advantage at the moment because Scraggan’s men don’t know you are here.” He sipped his tea for several moments, considering their options and the lengths his sister-in-law Izzy went to in order to escape her uncle’s brutality. “We need to put you in disguise.”
Eliza’s brows shot up and she stared at him incredulously for several moments. The intimacy of their breakfasting together, and the domesticity that settled between them so easily as they had shared such a simple act had left her with much to think about.
Inevitably though the reality of their situation and the reason they were drawn together smashed the tranquillity of the morning to pieces leaving her feeling almost deflated.
“Disguise? How?” She studied him for several moments, wondering just what he was planning.
“I need to pop out for a few minutes. I’ll reconnoitre the area and see if there are any signs of Scraggan’s men around the village, and need to see if there is somewhere I can get what we need. While I am gone, if you gather your things together and put as much food as you can into the pockets of the greatcoat. If you can find a pouch or something to put some more food in, we will take as much as we can carry. We need to ride throughout today, preferably without stopping to do anything other than change horses.” Edward shoved back from the chair, mentally listing the items he would need in order to carry his plan out.
After giving her a stern order not to open the door to anyone until he returned, or leave the room he swept out leaving a shocked Eliza to absorb the silence of the room in consternation.
He returned while she was tying the ends of the small pouch. She seemed to be so acutely tuned to him that she knew it was him lifting the latch even before he opened the door. She eyed the bundle of clothing he was carrying warily. Had he gotten himself a change of clothing? It seemed a logical thing to do given he was so strikingly masculine dressed entirely in black, people would undoubtedly remember him passing.
Tossing the bundle on the bed casually, Edward unfolded the assorted clothing, shook them our and handed her a pair of buff long trousers, a white shirt, a hat, along with a long strip what looked like shredded nightgown.
“Change into those.” Edward ordered softly, turning his back and tugging his own shirt over his head.
Eliza watched the rippling play of muscles along his broad back, as he lifted his arms above his head. Each dip and hollow outlined in loving detail as they clenched and released as he dropped the white shirt over his head. The sudden covering of his bare flesh by the stark white shirt shook her out of her adoration and with a start she swiftly turned her back, tugging the strings of her dress loose. She daren’t turn around and see if he was looking, tugging on the breeches under her dress, before removing her arms from her short sleeves of the dress and dragging the shirt over her modesty. It was an awkward yet effective way of changing without revealing her blushes.
Tucking her shirt in, she held out each leg in turn musing over the unfamiliar feel the rough material on the smooth skin of her thighs. It felt very strange and not altogether comfortable to wear such a garment, but Edward was right in choosing it as a disguise.
“Ta da!” She sang, grinning across the width of the bed at him.
Her smile died at the strange look in his eye as he studied her. “What’s wrong?” She looked down at herself, trying to find anything that could cause him such consternation. Unless he was much mistaken, he was shocked. “Do I look strange?”
He blew his cheeks out at the sight that greeted him and struggled to form any words for several moments. Mentally he winced as the words burst forth anyway.
“Good God woman, you can’t go out there dressed like that!” His voice rose several notches as he stared down at the length of feminine leg hungrily.
“Like what?” Eliza frowned down at the long breeches, totally oblivious to the distracting sight of her long and very shapely legs startlingly outlined in minute detail by the loving material. “I know the breeches are a bit long but they are alright. Nobody can tell with the boots.”
Chasing Eliza Page 9