Abandoned to the Prodigal, page 22
He grasped her hand and glanced at her, his eyes laughing and yet behind the amusement, a look of deadly seriousness that thrilled her. Wordlessly, he dropped a light kiss on her hand and drew her outside into the passage, thrusting her candle back into her fingers.
With the cooler air, cooler sense washed over her, and she fled. She only glanced back once, and he was still watching her. Somehow, that was thrilling, too.
Chapter Twenty
Leaning one shoulder against the door frame, Dan watched her glide along the passage in the glow of her candle. She looked ethereal, almost other-worldly. Beneath the sheer fabric of her night-rail, where the shawl did not reach, the tantalizing shape of her legs glued him to the spot. His mouth was dry.
Turn back. Come back to me now. Where would be the harm?
She glanced back once, then vanished down the stairs. Only when he heard the faint click of her door closing, did he move back inside his chamber.
The harm, of course, would be in her uncertainty. So many other people were trying to force her into marriage that the last thing she needed was a man seducing her and forcing the issue in another direction. She had already offered to be engaged to him just to discourage everyone else. The hurt of that had surprised him, as had the strength of his desire to be betrothed to her in reality.
To call Juliet his wife…
Unthinkable…
And yet to have the right to protect her, the joy of being her husband, living with her, loving her…
Dan had never had the means or the desire to even consider marriage, but with Juliet, it would be fun. His breath caught. He groaned, dragging his tortured body to the bed and throwing himself down. He lay, staring up at the ceiling, the back of one hand across his forehead. Gun leapt up and lay at his feet.
Juliet. My Juliet.
Yes, but she isn’t mine. Maybe one day…
Determinedly, he dragged his mind away from such fantasies, and searched around for a subject to distract his lust.
Susan, mushrooms, shots that had so far missed him.
Juliet’s warning touched him. And though he didn’t want to think about it, she had made the point he had been avoiding. The Cornwells and the Ameses were his family by blood, but they barely knew each other. A few duty meetings when he had first come home, and when his father had died. And he had met some of them here, the few times he had been summoned to his grandfather. They were not friends, and they were not family in the way Juliet and her cousins clearly were.
To Dan’s family, he was the product of a scandalous marriage, a poor interloper threatening their chances of inheritance. Well, more than threatening now. Of course, his grandfather could, and probably would, change his mind again, but until then, Dan was everyone’s enemy.
Would they—would one of them—really try to be rid of him for good? Did they know or care what such a loss would do to Jenny? Could they really be so cruel and unfeeling and greedy?
In truth, he knew them as little as they knew him. Perhaps he should ask his mother… And scare the wits out of her? No. But neither could he sit and wait and do nothing. If Susan had been poisoned and a gunshot had almost torn his head instead of his hat, then he had to do something.
Still wide awake, he bent his mind to the problem, imagining and discarding several ideas before he found one that might just unmask a scoundrel. If such a being existed. If he didn’t, then Dan had lost nothing except a little time.
Gun, of course, would be devastated, but he could make it up to the dog later.
Accordingly, he stood up, much to Gun’s excitement, and went to dunk his face in the washbowl. After washing, shaving, and dressing, he picked up his battered hat, which was almost beyond mending as it was. He sighed and spoke to Gun.
“Wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Dawn was breaking. This was the time he had used to set out toward Hornby to meet Juliet, being very careful not to think of it as an assignation. But that was no reason to assume she would be awake this morning. She had had two disturbed nights in a row. The girl deserved to sleep.
But he did want someone to keep an eye on the comings and goings from the house. And distract Gun from his absence.
He veered to the attic stairs and climbed. He could hear the servants moving and talking sleepily as he knocked on Susan’s door. Betty opened it almost at once, and he saw Juliet sitting awkwardly on the end of Susan’s bed, her back against the headboard. She was dressed now, but her eyes were closed. And Susan wasn’t moving.
“How is she?” he asked Betty quietly, aware from the corner of his eye that Juliet immediately sat up straight.
“Better, sir,” Betty said. “She’s sleeping, and the pains seem to have gone. Dr. Gorman says she almost died, but she should recover now. What a strange thing!”
“It is,” Dan agreed. He looked over to the bed. “Juliet? May I have a word?”
“You go, my lady,” Betty said. “I’ll stay with her a while, but I think she’s safe to leave alone now.”
Juliet nodded and walked across the room, brushing past Dan at the door. She walked downstairs in front of him, but from there, he diverted her to Myerly’s dusty library, which was largely unused and so never cleaned.
Carefully, he left the door open, to counter both his own temptation and any spread of gossip.
“What did the doctor say about Susan?” he asked abruptly.
“That she had eaten something she should not and that a mere surfeit of mushrooms or any overindulgence would not have caused such a reaction. He thought rat poison or some such must have got accidentally among whatever she’s eaten. Cook is outraged.”
“Rat poison?” he exclaimed, startled. He dragged his hand through his hair. “Look, I was thinking about what you said, and this has to be brought into the open before someone actually dies.”
She nodded eagerly. “So, I think.”
“Well, I have a plan. I’m going out, and I want you to tell everyone who will listen that I’m going via Patrick’s house, and from there to look at the boundary with Hornby land.”
“The river?”
“The river. You could mention a pleasant spot on this side where I could eat breakfast, just before the bridge.”
Her eyes widened. She even reached out to seize his arm before she checked herself. “You are setting yourself up to be murdered!”
“Not at all,” he said cheerfully. “In fact, I shall be somewhere else, quite safe, watching who comes and what they do.”
She searched his eyes, her own brilliant with worry and extraordinarily beautiful. He couldn’t look away. “You will need a witness,” she declared. “I shall come with you.”
“Oh, no,” he said at once, for he had come prepared for such a suggestion. “I need you here to tell everyone where I’ve gone. And to take care of Gun, if you would be so good.”
She frowned, as though still suspecting she was being kept out of the way. Fortunately, she seemed to see it necessary, for at last, she sighed with resignation. “Then you will take Patrick? Or better still, young Pat? He can be added protection as well as a witness.”
He hesitated, unwilling either to lie or to take this beyond the family. “I’ll speak to Pat,” he said at last.
She nodded decisively. “Then I’ll do it. But, Dan?”
Halfway to the door once more, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder.
“Be careful,” she pleaded, and he was almost undone.
For the first time, he wondered if she actually loved him. Rather than simply being intrigued by a different kind of friendship with a taste of passion.
He managed to smile. “And you.”
*
In the end, he did speak to both Patrick and his son about the various members of his family now residing at the house. But they knew nothing of Colin or Hugh except his lordship’s derogatory comments. Old Patrick at least remembered their mothers as children. Jenny had been his favorite, but unexpectedly, he also harbored a soft spot for Tabetha.
“She looked after Miss Hetty,” he recalled. “Even when she didn’t need to. It revealed a kinder spirit than she often showed the world.”
It was interesting, but not terribly helpful, and when young Pat spoke of an appointment at some distant farm that morning, Dan gave up, with relief, any lingering obligation to confide in him or ask his help.
Instead, he left the father and son to their duties and remounted to ride toward the hamlet.
He had wondered whether or not to ride this morning, for the place he had in mind for his trickery was within easy walking distance of the house. But in the end, he took the horse, more as proof of his presence to leave standing around for any watcher to see. And the horse was Lord Myerly’s, not his own. No one would willingly harm it, which was not the case with poor old Gun.
It also meant he could move across the country more quickly, and he had time to call in at the tiny tavern.
“About your guest,” he said when he had returned the tavern keeper’s cheerful greeting, “Sergeant Owens.”
“What about him?” the man asked with a wary glance toward the narrow stairs.
“He had a visitor yesterday afternoon.”
“Young Susan, from the house.”
“Did they quarrel?”
“They walked outside. Didn’t seem to quarrel.”
“Really? Interesting. Did she go back to the house alone, or did he walk with her?”
“Must have gone alone, because he came back here without her after only a quarter of an hour or so.”
Boots thudded heavily on the steps, and the sergeant himself appeared, glowering. “What’s it to you?” he demanded.
“I was just wondering whether or not it was safe to tell you,” Dan said, already walking to the door. “Susan was taken very ill last night. She seems to be on the mend, but if her mother isn’t there already, she soon will be. The rest is up to you, but don’t make the servants—or my cousins—throw you out.”
With that, he left and made for the river. There, he spent some time examining the ground along the Myerly bank and working out what could be seen from where. When he had decided on the likeliest spot, he walked over the bridge to the Hornby woods until he found a branch of about the height, thickness, and strength he needed.
Armed with his stick, he returned to the Myerly side and his chosen spot, climbed down to the water’s edge, and rammed the stick into the mud. Then he placed his now thoroughly disreputable hat on top of it and climbed up the bank. From the top, it looked exactly what it was—a hat on top of a stick. But when he had walked a few yards back from the river, in the direction one would approach from the house, he could no longer see the stick, just the hat. Now, he hoped, it looked as if someone was sitting by the water’s edge, perhaps dozing, perhaps watching the fish while munching some breakfast coaxed out of Lord Myerly’s cook. Which everyone knew he did.
Leaving his horse tied to the side of the bridge, where it would surely catch the attention of anyone looking for him, he settled down under the bridge and waited to see if anyone would come.
The next stage of his plan was flexible. In fact, it was downright vague, for it depended so much on who the culprit was and what they intended to do. He was not an angry man by nature, but the thought of someone trying to put a period to his existence over something as trivial as money and an estate no one else gave two hoots for….that did arouse his ire. And something akin to hurt that he didn’t want to acknowledge, for his own sake or his mother’s.
Even now, he didn’t truly believe in what he was doing. He was merely ruling out the possibility in the face of some serious and dangerous events. And when he saw someone walking briskly across the meadow from the direction of Myerly, his heart sank.
Part of him even cringed inside. But he would face it as he had faced everything else in his life. Head-on.
And so, he waited to see who the approaching man was, for it definitely was a man. A gentleman by the outline of his dress and the way he walked. So at least he didn’t need to confront his Aunt Tabetha.
Of course, it was perfectly possible this man had nothing to do with him. He might not be family, and if he was, he might have come to talk to him. Even when Dan saw the gun, he harbored the same hope.
Until his Uncle Ames paused and raised the fowling piece, taking clear aim at Dan’s hat.
*
Juliet, having done her first duty of informing Mrs. Stewart, in the company of the entire family, where Dan had gone for the morning, retreated to the walled garden where Dan had left Gun.
The dog was delighted to see her, and she soon took up position on the mossy old bench which had been built on a raised dais. From there, she could throw sticks for the dog and see who left the house from the front, the back, or the side.
She saw the doctor arrive, presumably to see Susan, and leave again. Colin strode out of a side door, making her sit up straight, but he only walked briskly around the house twice and then vanished back inside. Tomorrow was Wednesday, the day they should all be leaving. If Mrs. Stewart went, too, she could no longer stay here.
But then, it had only ever been a short-term strategy. She would have to go home eventually and face the music. But hopefully, the unspeakable Barden would have left, enraged, and Jeremy would be too appalled with her behavior to wish any resumption of their engagement.
As for the scandal, it would no doubt get worse with Barden fanning the flames. Her ruin would be utter, and no one would want to marry her. That would not please her parents. Or Kitty. But Kitty’s Lawrence would stand by her. And Juliet did not want to marry anyone anyway.
Apart from Dan.
The laundry maid was hanging out sheets to dry at the back of the house. Between that and her own dreamy thoughts, she almost missed the man leaving by the front door. He wore a cloak over one shoulder. Mr. Ames. And he was crossing the drive, toward the fields that led to the river.
She stood up in sudden panic. She had promised to stay here, but she had done as Dan had asked and had seen who left the house.
What if someone else left after him, and Juliet was not here to see? Besides, she was being silly. Dan would take care of himself. He had a plan, and what threat could the vague, sickly uncle possibly be to a fit young man?
And then the wind caught his cloak and blew it back, and she saw the gun he carried over one arm.
She was already at the gate, shutting poor Gun in again before she knew fully what she was doing. At the other side of the gate, she hesitated, for Gun would provide both excuse and protection on her walk. But Dan had left him behind deliberately, and it was Dan who was in danger. So, she left him, seized her bonnet from the washing line where it was still airing after her night’s adventure in the rain, and tied it on while she hurried toward the river.
She knew the countryside better than Mr. Ames, who was taking the well-worn path over the fields to the bridge. Juliet ran directly to the river itself and followed its bank so that she could support Dan by coming at Ames from a different angle.
And if I’m wrong? If he’s just gone shooting birds?
He probably had. She could not really imagine him shooting anyone, let alone his wife’s nephew… And yet it was he who had passed the mushrooms to Dan.
And if I’m wrong, and someone else comes, then I’ll see them as well from here as from the garden. And here I can do something if I have to.
What that something was, she had no real idea. Until she rounded the bend in the river and saw she was about to intercept Mr. Ames.
She stopped dead, but the man didn’t see her. He was striding across from the meadow toward the bridge. And then something caught his attention, and he stopped. At once, she saw what it was.
Someone had scrambled down the riverbank to the side of the water. From the stillness of his head, he had fallen asleep. And from the shape of the hat, she knew who it was.
Asleep!
The stunning realization hit her almost at the same moment as she saw the gun emerge from Ames’s cloak. She began to run, coming at him from behind. He raised the weapon to his shoulder, taking slow, careful aim at the head of a man who could not even see him.
In pure terror, she screamed out a wordless warning, both to Ames and Dan, and launched herself through the air to land on Ames’s back.
*
Watching Ames with as much sadness as anger, Dan couldn’t quite believe his eyes when the tiny figure hurled herself out of nowhere, screaming like a banshee as she landed on Ames’s back.
His heart in his mouth, Dan popped out from under the bridge, pounding toward the two-headed spinning creature that was made up of his uncle and Juliet. She had landed on him with such force, that Dan was actually surprised Ames didn’t immediately fall forward on his gun. Instead, he spun around, trying to dislodge her, which gave her the opportunity to wrest the weapon from him and hurl it away.
Ames reached over his shoulder, grabbed her by her clothing, and sent her flying to the ground.
Dan emitted a sound of fury and cannoned into his uncle, flattening him beneath his body on the ground.
Ames stared up at him in utter bafflement, jerking his head around to see the hat and then back to the man who should have been wearing it. “What… what…”
Dan rose, hauling his uncle to his feet and started desperately toward Juliet.
She might have been winded by the force with which she hit the ground, but she was all spirit. She staggered to her feet, stumbling in the direction of the fallen gun. And then she saw Dan and Ames and behind them, the hat.
Her mouth fell open.
“I told you I had a plan,” he said apologetically. Dragging Ames with him, he picked up the gun, and only then let his uncle go. He unloaded the weapon.
By then, Juliet had stormed closer to the hat and seen enough to understand what he had done. She spun back on her heels, strode straight up to Dan, and slapped him across the face. With that, she burst into tears and hurled herself into his arms to kiss him full on the mouth.
