Page 19 of An Affair at Stonecliffe

With any luck, Thorne’s men would not catch up to this coach before it reached Dover, and she would be able to also disembark at one of the stops before that and take a circuitous route back to London. Then she and Gil would truly flee the country. Perhaps they would go to Scotland and then across to Norway. She wished she had enough money to buy tickets to Canada; surely there she could lose Thorne for good.

Noelle watched Lisette and Gil walk away, struggling to keep the tears from coming. She had never parted from Gil like this. She had left him with another woman when she went to work, but that had been only for a few hours and she had not been far from him if he needed her. But now he would be in London, and she would be far away, trying to elude her enemy. She felt as if her heart was being pulled from her body with each step her son took.

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he would be out of Thorne’s clutches. Even if Thorne caught up with her, he wouldn’t have Gil.

She settled back in her seat and closed her eyes, feigning sleep as a new passenger climbed on board and dropped into the seat beside her. A few minutes later, the horn blew, and the coach pulled out of the yard.

CARLISLE THORNE FELT uncharacteristically optimistic this morning. Across the breakfast table from him, the countess smiled and echoed his thoughts. “I think she’s going to come around, don’t you, dear?”

“I am hopeful,” he responded. However optimistic he was, where Noelle Rutherford was concerned, he couldn’t be confident. “She seems to be considering the idea.”

“I thought so, too.” The countess nodded. “She’s...well, she isn’t what I expected.”

“No?” Carlisle buttered his toast. He found he had little desire to dissect the woman with the countess—or anyone else, for that matter. In truth, he didn’t want to think about Noelle Rutherford at all. It brought up the most unsettling feelings in him—guilt and sorrow and even some bizarre impulse to help her. She was too thin, her eyes too shadowed, her posture too tense. And why did she continue to look at him in that wary way, as if he was about to pounce on her?

“No,” Adeline replied decisively. “I thought she would be... I don’t know, flamboyant, I suppose. But she was rather reserved, wasn’t she? And the way she spoke, her manners—if I didn’t know better, I would have thought she was brought up a lady. Wasn’t it surprising how much she knew about art? I suppose one would pick up that sort of thing around Adam.” She paused. “Though I must say, I was around the boy for twenty years, and I don’t know those painters and sculptors. You and she left me quite in the dark half the time.”

“Yes, I was struck by that, as well.” Carlisle went on, “I think she will not be an embarrassment to you.”

“No—though I don’t care about that. She could drop all her H’s and eat with a knife, and I wouldn’t mind, as long as Adam’s son is here. However, I do think I must order some dresses made for her. And clothes for Gilbert, as well, of course.”

“Whatever you like.” Carlisle smiled at Adeline. In the past he would have hated for Adeline to get her hopes up. But they were so close to the end now. Even though Noelle had not agreed, he was positive she was moving in that direction. He had seen the defiance and determination in her eyes change to yearning, even hope. He couldn’t understand what held her back—other than that rock-hard stubbornness of hers—but he knew her resistance was weakening.

He was content to wait, at least for the moment. His fears about Adam’s son were, if not gone, somewhat lessened. With Diggs’s man trailing them in and out of the wretched area in which they lived, Carlisle could trust in the boy’s safety. And whatever he had thought of Noelle, it was clear she loved Gilbert and took care of him the best she could. Adam’s son seemed a happy, healthy child, and if he was not clothed or fed or housed as he should be, that situation was only temporary.

Carlisle excused himself, leaving the countess happily immersed in plans for new wardrobes, and went to his office. He found himself restless, though, his mind straying back to Noelle. Perhaps he should talk to her again. He could drop into the millinery on the pretext of buying a hat for the countess. He could, in fact, buy a hat for Noelle herself; certainly she could use one besides that plain, dark, deep-brimmed bonnet that effectively hid her face. He wondered, if he did so, whether she would wear it or throw it down and crush it beneath her heel.

His thoughts were interrupted by the butler announcing a visitor. Diggs walked in, the look on his face so tight, even worried, that Carlisle stood up in alarm. “What’s happened?”

“She’s gone, sir.”

Carlisle stared at him, the man’s words so far from his expectations that he could barely absorb them. “What?” Now anger flooded in, sweeping away his shock. “She’s run away again?”

“I’m afraid so. Her flat is empty—there are a few things lying about, but not much. She’s packed and gone.”

“How the devil did this happen? You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her.”

“Yes, sir, I know.” Diggs lowered his gaze, his expression a mixture of shame and fury. “I had my best man watching her. But yesterday...um, he didn’t follow her home.”

“What?”

“It’s inexcusable, I know, sir. He is usually so good—but he says yesterday afternoon, he started feeling drowsy, and the next thing he knew, he’s sitting there, head on the table, and it’s night.”

Carlisle stared. “He fell asleep on his watch?”

Diggs squirmed. “Like I said, he’s my best man; it’s not like him. But he uses the tavern across the street from the millinery. The owner lets him sit at the window all day for a little fee. And he buys a pint now and then so he doesn’t look so obvious.”

“So he passed out drunk.”

“Or someone could have dropped something in his drink when he wasn’t looking.”

“You think he was drugged? By her?” Carlisle began to pace.

Diggs shrugged. “I’ve got no proof...but, yes, that’s what I think.”

“Damn it!” Carlisle slammed his fist down on his desk. “How could I have been so blind? I thought—” He shook his head impatiently. “She played me for a fool yet again.”

Noelle had planned it from the first. One didn’t just happen to change one’s mind and flee on the same evening the man assigned to her had drunk himself unconscious. No, it had to have been carefully executed; she would have had to make arrangements to acquire the drug—as well as find the man to put it in the drink for her, for she couldn’t possibly have gotten close enough to Diggs’s man without him recognizing her.