He made it to the grove of trees before Marcella arrived. He paced from tree to tree until he saw her coming his way. She wore a black, hooded cloak, probably to keep herself from being noticed. He hurried to the edge of the trees until she saw him. Reaching his hand out, he took hers in his and pulled her inside the shadows.
“Do you think anyone saw me?” she asked, lowering the hood of her cloak.
“No, I think you’re safe. Martin left the estate on his horse. I’m sure he won’t be back for a few more hours.”
“I hope you’re correct. That will give me time to visit with my sister, and hopefully look through his study.”
“No.” He touched her shoulder. “Don’t search through his room tonight. Because we cannot presume how long he’ll be gone, I don’t want to risk the chance of you getting caught.”
“Yes, you are right, of course.” She smiled.
Even though they were cloaked in shadows, he saw the outline of her delicate face. He had no trouble drawing her lovely face from memory to fill in the missing details here in the shadows.
He ran his hand slowly down her arm. “I saw the way Martin treated you earlier after you had arrived home.” He scowled. “I didn’t like the way he grasped your wrist like that. In fact, I was ready to run out of the trees just to pound his face into the ground.”
She nodded. “I was afraid you would try something like that, which was why I convinced him to leave me alone. I know how important it is to find some proof of his crimes, and that means you must stay hidden.”
His heart melted. “I shall never forget your thoughtfulness.”
“And I’ll never forget yours.”
Her voice was so soft, so sweet. It took all of his willpower not to pull her into his arms right now. “I’m sorry he hurt you.” He rubbed her arm, not wanting to take his hands off her, even though he should.
“Don’t be,” she replied. “His words and actions made me want to find the evidence to have him arrested. Believe me, Grey, I will find some proof that he was responsible for those murders.”
Wesley loved how she had blossomed just in the small amount of time he’d known her. He couldn’t help but feel proud. “What about at the dinner table? I could see him saying something to you, but then he stormed out of the dining room, angrier than an irritated bee.”
“Oh, speaking of dinner, here is your food.” She parted her cloak and untied the rope that held the bulky burlap sack to her waist.
He took it from her and fastened the rope around his waist. “Thank you. It smells divine.”
“There is roasted duck, a few apples and grapes, and some bread and cheeses.”
“It sounds heavenly.”
“It tasted heavenly as well.”
“All right now, tell me what happened with Martin during the meal.”
She laughed. “Oh, that. Yes, it was very humorous, and I struggled not to laugh at the time, but it was very difficult. He kept throwing insults at me, and I refused to acknowledge him in any way.” She flipped her hand in the air. “I realized tonight he absolutely hates it when I ignore him, just as much as he gets irritated when he can see his words don’t affect me.”
Wesley threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, my little blossom. I can’t believe you did that to him. Martin needed a dose of his own medicine. That man needs to realize he cannot push people around.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without your help, you know.” Her voice softened.
“My help? What did I do?”
“You encouraged me. You made me feel that helping you was of great importance. I wanted to be important to someone.”
His heart clenched. The poor, sweet, woman. How could she have gone all these years without feeling important? “You are helping me, and I appreciate it so much.” He took her hands in his and squeezed them. “And you are important... very important to me. I don’t want you to ever forget it.”
“I thank you for your kind words, Grey.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her his real name. He wanted to hear her say his name so badly, but it was too soon. “I will continue to bestow my kind words upon you as long as you continue to bless me with your sweet presence.”
He was sinking into temptation fast, and the urge to take her in his arms grew stronger by the second. Perhaps he needed to get them into some light just so this moment wouldn’t seem so private and intimate. Yet, at this point, he didn’t think it would help. He was just a normal man, after all. How could he resist her innocent charm?
“Grey, you say the kindest things to me. I fear if you don’t stop now, I will be lost forever,” she said breathless.
“It is I who am lost, my blossom. I fear I cannot think of anything but your sweetness.” He slid his arms around her shoulders, compelling her closer. She complied, drawing close and slipping her arms around his waist.
He cupped her head, his thumbs sweeping across her lips. Her lilac fragrance enveloped him, and nearly drove him mad with wanting. He envisioned dropping his face to the softness of her neck and kissing her with great enjoyment.
Slowly, her eyes closed and her lips parted, as if offering a silent invitation. How could he turn her down? But he must since she was promised to another man. If only he had the courage to stop himself.
Wesley lowered his head and brushed his cheek against hers. That wasn’t good enough. He needed more.
He moved his mouth closer, hovering his lips above hers. A tangy sweet scent breezed from her mouth. Grapes. She’d been eating some for dinner.
She held her breath, which made him want to do the same. She trembled in his arms, but he suspected it wasn’t from fear. How could she be frightened of him at this moment when she was practically melting in his arms? Instead, he was certain she held a different kind of fear. Would he be the first man to kiss her? The mere thought made his heart hammer faster in anticipation.
The excitement building inside of him was just too much to control. He had to kiss her, taste her, devour her with his inflamed affection. He’d think about the consequences later. Right now, however, he must follow his desires in haste!
He swept his lips across hers so very gently. Curses, she was so delicate. He felt if he took the kiss fast and as wild as he wanted to do, he’d break her for sure. But the longer he held himself back, the more his body trembled. He needed to end this torture before something dreadful happened.
As he settled his lips over hers, a tree branch broke from behind him through the stillness of the night. At first, he wasn’t certain that was the exact noise he’d heard because of the pleasurable sigh escaping her throat, but then came another branch snapping. And another. The sound grew closer by the second.
He sucked in a quick breath and broke the kiss. Ending their close contact, he held her arms until she regained her footing, and then he whipped around, keeping her in back of him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Shh. Someone’s here,” he whispered.
Shadows played all around him. It was too dark to see who was coming toward them, but he was ready. Quickly, he reached for his pistol.
Drat! He’d left his holster on his horse. He was without a weapon, which generally didn’t happen. It didn’t matter. He had his strength, and he’d been able to knock down a man in a single blow of his fist. If that’s what it took to get rid of the person who dared disturb his and Marcella’s privacy, then so be it.
EIGHT
Marcella’s mind had whirled in a dream-like cloud full of happiness, but now only confusion filled her. Who could have possibly seen them in this grove of trees, especially when there wasn’t enough light? Nobody could be just taking a leisurely stroll, especially in this section of the estate.
There could only be one explanation. Her heart dropped. Martin!
As the sound of the footsteps neared, a tiny light followed with it. Whoever it was carried a low-lit lantern. She clutched Grey’s coat and pressed herself up against his back. She k
new, without a shadow of a doubt, he would protect her.
The lantern was like a ghostly light bobbing in the dark as it drew ever closer. When the lantern bearer was nearly upon them, the lantern rose, shining a soft patch of light on her and Grey.
“Greystone, is that you?”
The tenseness in Grey’s frame relaxed and he exhaled a heavy breath. “Oh, it’s only you, Colt.”
The other man chuckled. “Can you imagine my fright when I saw a shadow too large to be one man? Who do you have with you?” He came closer, holding the lantern higher.
Grey pulled Marcella around to his side. “Miss Bronson, let me present my good friend, Colt Tanner.”
It was a little awkward to be introduced to someone that she couldn’t see very well. But nonetheless, she felt shy once again, just as she’d always done when being introduced to a man. “It’s... nice to meet a friend of Grey’s.”
“Colt,” Grey continued, “let me introduce you to Miss Marcella Bronson.”
Although it was hard to see him, she could tell when he grinned. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, as well.” The man stepped closer. “Tell me, Greystone, what has been going on so far since we last talked. Do you still have her in my cabin?”
Greystone... That name sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. By now, she surmised that Greystone was his last name, and it, it was so familiar.
Grey’s body shook with a quiet laugh. “Actually, no.” He slipped an arm around Marcella, maneuvering her closer to Mr. Tanner. “This is the woman I kidnapped earlier today, believing she was Martin’s wife. As remarkable as it sounds, I took the younger sister.”
“Not good, Greystone,” Mr. Tanner replied with humor in his voice. “And I suppose you are now returning her?”
Laughter escaped Grey. “I’ll explain things to you later. Right now, Miss Bronson and I were ready to discuss tomorrow’s plans.”
“Good. The sooner we can find proof that Martin killed your father and brother, the sooner I can get back to my regular, boring life.”
Marcella sucked in a quick breath as her mind pieced things together. Grey’s father and brother were the ones killed? Grey mentioned that Martin had attempted to kill a third man. That must be why Grey limped. No wonder he was so bent on revenge right now, and she must do all that she could to help him.
“I agree,” Grey said.
“Do you want me to meet you back at the cottage, then?” Mr. Tanner asked.
“If you don’t mind. I won’t be long, I assure you.”
“Then I’ll bid you both a good evening.” Mr. Tanner nodded as he turned and started walking away. “Justice will be served for your father and Toby.”
Toby? Where had she heard that name?
Suddenly, her memory opened. Mr. Toby Greystone, the rancher looking for a mail-order bride.
Gasping, she slapped a hand over her mouth and stared wide-eyed at Grey. Toby was his brother... and dead?
Grey stood in front of her and grasped her shoulders. “Marcella? What’s wrong?”
“Toby Greystone is your... brother? And he’s a rancher?”
Grey’s gaze narrowed. “You knew my brother?”
Tears collected in her eyes as Martin’s threat returned. If you haven’t heard from the man you’re going to marry by the first of next week, I’m going to deal with this matter myself. I’ll contact several of my acquaintances to see who would be willing to take you off my hands.
That’s why she hadn’t heard from Toby Greystone. He was dead, and now Martin would force her to marry one of his friends.
“I... I...” She swallowed hard as panic clutched her chest. “Grey, I think your brother was the one I was going to marry. All I knew was his name and that he was a rancher in Colorado.” She paused. “Unless you know of more men with that name?”
His frown deepened, and that told her what she needed to know. Helplessness filled her and she turned away from him. He wouldn’t be able to see her tears, but he would hear it in her voice.
“Marcella.” He moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her as his face buried into her hair. “We are the only Greystone ranchers in Colorado.”
She nodded, too afraid to speak without her voice cracking.
“But please don’t fret. We’ll find proof to get Martin arrested.”
“Your brother,” she said slowly as her voice shook, “was the first man to offer marriage, even though I’d never met him. We corresponded through telegrams. He seemed like he’d be a good husband.”
“Toby would have made you very happy, I’m sure.”
Tears streamed down her face and she covered her hands over her face. Grey turned her around in his arms and she rested against his chest. His gentle hand stroked her hair.
She lowered her hands, still keeping her cheek against his chest. “What is your first name?”
“Wesley.”
Her heart softened, relieved that he trusted her enough to tell her. “That’s a nice name.”
Silence filled the air for a few more moments as he continued to caress her hair. His touch was soothing, and his nearness comforted her.
“Are you still worried about Martin trying to marry you to one of his friends?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Shhh...” He kissed her temple. “I promise that won’t happen. Please, trust me.”
She had no other choice. She must put her trust in him.
MARCELLA QUICKLY DRESSED and then waited patiently—well, maybe not so patiently—for Martin to leave the estate the next morning. She stood by her bedroom window and parted the curtain slightly, glancing down toward the stables. He’d already left the house and had gone to get his horse. Any minute now he’d ride out of the stable toward the path heading for the main road.
Impatiently, she tapped her foot. Blasted man! What was taking him so long? But finally, his horse trotted him out of the stable. Martin shifted in his saddle before urging his horse faster.
She exhaled a relieved breath. It was time to search his study.
Finding all the courage she had, she crept out of her room, down the hallway to the stairs, and then she stepped softly toward the lower level. She listened for any sounds from the servants, but they were abnormally quiet this morning. She didn’t dare take the time to wonder why. Then again, at this hour of the morning, she was usually up in her room just waking up and ringing for the maid to bring her breakfast.
Her body shook with nervousness as she crept on shaky legs toward Martin’s study. She held her breath until reaching his door. Slowly, she released the pent-up air inside her lungs and placed her trembling hand on the doorknob.
Marcella’s palm moistened to the point that she couldn’t even turn the blasted doorknob. Grumbling under her breath, she swiped her hand on her dress, and tried once more to open the door. This time it worked, and she hurried inside, closing the door before anyone noticed her.
She pressed her ear against the hard wood, listening for the servants again. Fortunately, none were moving about in this part of the house.
Letting out a heavy sigh, she turned into the room. Against the far wall sat the large oak desk that used to be her father’s. She hoped Martin kept important documents in there as her father had.
Marcella hurried to the desk and knelt on the floor, carefully opening one drawer at a time. The first one didn’t hold anything that appeared to be secret, so she moved to the next. A few letters littered inside. She took one out and carefully opened it. Thankfully, Martin had already broken the seal and so he wouldn’t know she’d been in here snooping.
She skimmed the contents, but nothing appeared to be incriminating, so she set it aside and continued her search.
The second missive was from Martin’s mother. Marcella rolled her eyes. Naturally, the man wasn’t going to tell, or involve, his mother in murderous affairs, but she was curious, nonetheless.
My dearest son,
I have heard gossip of late, and I fear if t
his is true, then your life will change drastically. The word around town is that your cousin, Wesley Greystone wasn’t killed after all. However, nobody knows where he is. A man working for the sheriff is looking in on this matter for me. I shall keep you informed.
Marcella arched an eyebrow. How every interesting. Would this kind of news be the very reason Martin had been irritable lately?
After searching through three more missives, she found one written by a woman, and the contents of the letter were most personal. Marcella gasped and covered her mouth as her gaze scanned each word. Her cheeks heated from embarrassment. Good heavens! How could a woman say these words to a married man? Apparently, the woman and Martin must have been close at one time, perhaps even lovers. The woman wrote how much she missed him and couldn’t wait to see him again.
Marcella took a quick glance at the date, which was last week. Irritation grew inside her. Could her idiot brother-in-law be having an affair on his new bride? That could explain why he rode into town every day instead of staying home with Joanna. He’d better not break Joanna’s heart or Marcella would have to...
Sighing, she frowned. Who was she fooling? She would do nothing because she couldn’t even talk to the man without stuttering. And heaven forbid she would do anything violent toward him, even if her mind conjured up many ways to torture the imbecile.
The letter was only signed your beloved Mary. Marcella shook her head. There were too many women by the name of Mary, and it would be impossible to track her down.
So far, she’d seen nothing that incriminated Martin, except for the letter from the woman. But that didn’t prove he was a murderer, only that he was a dolt for possibly cheating on his wife.
She finished looking through his desk but didn’t find anything of importance. There weren’t many other places to look in his study, so she quietly left. As she hurried away from the room, her heartbeat slowed considerably. Now she should look through his bedchamber. He and Joanna didn’t share the same room, which Marcella thought was odd since she remembered her parents had shared a room. Nevertheless, it was better this way because then Joanna wouldn’t see her and ask what she was doing.
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