There was a distinct pause. “Cabbage, eh? I thought it was rhubarb.” He slowly got to his feet and limped over to take a look at the fallen stone. On close inspection, it was clear the mortar had been freshly chiseled away.”Hmmm.”
Augusta was leaning over his shoulder and saw the evidence of tampering as well. “Hmmm, nothing, my lord. That stone didn’t fall by itself.” She pressed the handkerchief back to his forehead, which had started to bleed again. “Have you made any recent enemies that would wish you harm?”
“Well, if you were not present and accounted for …” he murmured.
She flashed him an indignant look. “I was thinking more along the lines of cuckolded husbands or jealous mistresses.”
“I’m flattered by your notion of my prowess with the opposite sex, but as I’ve tried to tell you, perhaps you should not put quite so much faith in gossip.”
She had the grace to color.
A commotion at the french doors saved her from having to make a reply. Voices were raised and a number of gentlemen, as well as several ladies, stepped onto the stone terrace.
“I tell you, I heard a crash, Haverlock.”
Augusta straightened and waved the crumpled handkerchief. “Over here, everyone. I’m afraid there has been a slight accident.”
The group rushed en masse over to where the two of them were standing. One of the ladies shrieked while the evening’s host blanched at the sight of the earl’s blood-streaked face. “Good heavens, Dunham, what the deuce happened?”
Marcus shot Augusta a brief warning look, then pulled a wry face. “It would seem one of the stones on your roof was loose. A gust of wind must have dislodged it.”
Her face betrayed no reaction to his explanation.
Lord Haverlock sucked in his breath. “Why, you could have been seriously injured!”
The earl shrugged. “Yes, well, I suppose I was lucky. No real harm done.” He brushed aside the suggestion of having a doctor summoned and refused the offer of assistance back into the ballroom. “If you would kindly send round for my carriage, I think, given my current state of appearance, I should prefer to simply leave by the garden entrance and take myself home. I’ve had quite enough entertainment for one night.”
He brushed at one of the thick smudges of dirt on his sleeve. “Good evening, gentlemen. Ah, and good evening, Lady Augusta. I thank you for running to my assistance.”
His voice did indeed convey a note of gratitude but the look in his eyes as they held hers for the briefest instant told her things were far from settled between them.
The valet gavea violent start at the shout of laughter that came from the tub behind the screen. His employer had taken a nasty crack on the head and perhaps his wits were seriously addled. He peeked around the corner.
“Is … is everything alright, milord?” he ventured. “Perhaps I should send one of the footmen for a doctor or?—”
Marcus let his aching body sink even deeper in to the hot, sudsy water, then waved the man away. “Don’t bother, Tebbins. I haven’t taken leave of my senses. Just set the decanter of brandy by my bedside and then you may retire.”
The man looked unconvinced, but did as he was told.
As soon as his head disappeared, Marcus let out another chuckle. “Goddamn spawn of Satan,” he repeated aloud. The chit was utterly, maddeningly impossible! But try as he might toremain angry with her, he felt a grudging admiration nudging in as well. Along with her willful obstinacy, she had displayed quick thinking and a keen power of observation. At the sight of blood, she hadn’t screamed or fainted, but had handled the situation with cool aplomb.
And there was no question that she possessed a sharp intelligence. She hadn’t failed to put two and two together just as quickly as he did, nor had she missed his signal not to say anything about the suspicious nature of the accident. On top of all that, she seemed to appreciate the dry sort of humor he liked best.
He paused for a moment in his assessment. How had he ever thought her bird-witted or boring?
Or unattractive.Somehow, those interesting hazel eyes, and graceful curves were having more and more of an unsettling effect on him every time he came in proximity of them ….
Damnation! He reached for the pitcher of cold water and doused it over his head. He’d not let such thoughts distract him from the fact that she still had given him no explanation for her unusual nocturnal activities. It was unfortunate that his interrogation had been cut short this evening, but she wouldn’t wriggle out of it quite so easily another time.
But that would have to wait for their next meeting. A more immediate concern was who had pushed the stone, and why.
Another chuckle escaped the earl’s lips at the thought of her suggestions. It was remotely possible, he imagined, but not very likely. He had not been as, er, active as she seemed to think. In truth, he had not even looked at a woman since … why, since he had met her.
His lips pursed in thought. The only recent activity of his that had raised any heated reactions had been his two speeches in Parliament. People may have disagreed with his point of view, but that should hardly have been the sort of thing to get a fellowkilled. The more he considered it, the more it made no sense—none of the pieces seemed to fit together. Giving up, he stood up to towel off, then pulled on his heavy silk dressing gown.
But somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that Lady Augusta and the papers she had stuffed down her shirt were key parts of the puzzle.
Seven
