The Charmer

by CJ Archer

  ***

  They arrived back at Stoneleigh without any more incidents. The three servants went into the kitchen, but Susanna remained in the stables with Orlando as he organized Silver's feed. She picked up a brush and set about soothing the last of the mare's nerves which seemed as jittery as her own. She watched Orlando from the corner of her eye and, despite the pounding of her heart, said what needed to be said.

  "It's time you tell me what you're doing here at Stoneleigh."

  He rubbed Silver's neck as the horse bent to the trough. "I was passing through and offering my services as a gardener—"

  "Enough, Orlando." Her voice was low, level, and yet it held all the fury and anguish boiling inside her. She regarded him, Silver between them, but he was not looking at her. "I'm tired of your lies. You are not a gardener. You were not simply passing through. You have a reason for coming here and I want to know what it is."

  His hand stilled on Silver's neck. The pulse in his throat throbbed. "Susanna. Please. Don't ask me."

  The raw plea in his voice cooled her anger, but she forced herself to remember his deceit. He was a charmer, used to lying and getting his way by saying the right things in a way he knew would work on her. She would not allow them to affect her anymore.

  "Tell me," she said.

  He walked around Silver and grasped her shoulders. She shook him off and his hands fell limply to his sides. "Susanna, I can't tell you. I want to, but I've been forbidden."

  "By that man? The gentleman? Who is he?"

  His only answer was a slow shake of his head as he lowered it.

  "I want you to leave."

  His head snapped up. "No. It's too dangerous for you on your own."

  "You may be the reason I am in danger."

  "Is that what you think? That I am the one trying to harm you? I was in the cart with you when the blade was thrown."

  "I don't know what to think. But the trouble began when you arrived, and I don't believe in coincidences."

  "Nor do I. Usually. But...I am not trying to hurt you, Susanna. You know that. Your heart is telling you the truth." He placed his hand beneath her left breast and her traitorous heartbeat quickened in response. "Listen to it. What does it say?"

  She stepped back, out of his reach. Be firm. Be strong. Do not fall for his words. "I have followed my heart so many times and it has always led me astray. Always." Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and forged on. "It's time I stopped listening and began thinking."

  He reached for her but quickly dropped his hand back to his side again. "Susanna, I am not like your husbands. I am not..." He trailed off, looked away.

  "Not what? Not lying to me? Not fickle in your affections? Or not going to change so that the man I...cared about becomes unrecognizable?" A kind of madness gripped her and wouldn't let go. The words shot from her mouth, intending to wound. If they did, he gave no sign of it. He stood very still, his eyelids half-closed like shields, his mouth set firm. "Which lie would you like to tell me now, Orlando?"

  He took a long time to answer. "I want to tell you why I'm here," he eventually said. "But I can't. You're right and I am not passing through, nor am I a gardener. But I am on your side. Throw me off your land if you wish, but I will find a way to watch out for you until the danger has passed. I will protect you for as long as necessary, whether you like it or not. Whatever my previous reason for being here, guarding you is now my new mission. And that, Susanna, is no lie. Someone tried to kill you today and—"

  "Your foppish friend?"

  "Not him."

  She believed him. Or perhaps she wanted so much to believe him that his tone rang true.

  Fie! She couldn't even trust her own instincts anymore. "Then who? Monk?" She scoffed. "If he wanted to kill me, he would have done so already. He's had opportunities."

  She'd expected him to argue the point, but he only nodded.

  "If it is not Monk and not your friend..." She swallowed, but the lump in her throat remained. "Then it must be you."

  It was as if he expected it and had braced himself for it. There was no change in his stance, his face. "And haven't I had many opportunities too? In your bed, for example. Or here, right now."

  His words were like body blows and she took a step back. Breathed.

  Then suddenly it all clicked into place. "You have been hired by someone, you and your friends—Monk, the gentleman stranger, and his servant. Not to kill me, but to frighten me. Hired by Walter Cowdrey perhaps." She nodded quickly. Oh yes, it made a lot of sense. "He thinks that if I am scared enough, I will agree to marry him." She snorted. "He doesn't know me at all if he thinks fear will induce me to wed."

  The muscles high up in Orlando's cheeks worked. He stared at her, anger and concern gone, replaced by thoughtfulness. She crossed her arms and stared back.

  "Will you do me one thing?" he asked. "One last thing before I leave Stoneleigh."

  "What?"

  "I need the names of the London shopkeepers you sent your letters to."

  It wasn't at all what she'd expected him to say. "Why?"

  "Because..." Without seeming to move, he was suddenly a little closer. "Because I know some London merchants and many high-end shopkeepers. I want to see if they are among the ones you've already contacted." He fidgeted with Silver's mane. "There's no point writing another letter to them if they've already received one."

  He was going to help her? After what had been said? She couldn't quite believe it.

  Or was it just another ruse? Just another lie to get her to trust him?

  "How do you know them?"

  "I can't tell you."

  She turned and walked off. He caught up to her and jerked her around to face him, pulling her against him. His breath came in jagged bursts as if he'd been running. Her blood rushed through her body, pounded between her ears.

  "Susanna, I have lied. I admit it. And I know you don't believe me when I say I don't want to hurt you."

  "Yet you have," she whispered. "Just as you hurt me now."

  His fingers sprang apart, letting her go. She didn't tell him she hadn't meant physical pain. "I am going to make it up to you. I'll find you a shopkeeper to take your marmalades and succades. I promise you."

  She really should have left him then, walked away. But her heart was cracking and her legs wouldn't work. And God help her, she believed him. She believed him.

  He cupped her cheek and bent his head. He hesitated, giving her a moment to escape if she wanted to.

  She didn't want to. It was just a kiss. One last kiss for her to remember him by.

  His lips were impossibly soft, yet the kiss held more power than any other. An ache wrapped around her insides and settled like a shroud over her heart. God it hurt.

  When he pulled away, it hurt more.

  "I'll get the names of the merchants for you," she mumbled.

  "I'll return for them later. There's something else I need to do first. Stay in the house while I'm gone. Don't let anyone in, including people you know."

  They parted outside the stables, his warning ringing in her ears. She watched him walk off down the drive to the main road, and let out a long, shuddering breath once he was out of sight. She trudged back to the house where Bessie waited for her at the front door, a sealed letter in her hand.

  "We found this slipped under the kitchen door when we arrived home," she said.

  Susanna opened it with trembling fingers, her mind not on the task. But it soon was.

  Holt is an assassin. I hired him to kill you.