AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘I bow to your military tactical experience,’ Marcus said sardonically. ‘Then we patrol inside, taking care not to be seen?’
‘It’s a big house,’ the earl observed. ‘Rambling, several wings.’
‘We would need to direct him somehow,’ Marcus mused. ‘But he’s no fool; he’ll suspect an open window.’
‘I don’t like it,’ Lord Narborough said finally. ‘Not with the women here.’
‘One of you could take them up to town?’ Hal suggested.
‘We need the three of us here. No, Father is right, it is too risky.’
Nell moved softly away. With the men so protective of the women, the dark man had them just where he wanted them. Someone needed to carry the fight to him, confront him, discover whether there was some purpose behind this persecution or simply the vicious spite of a madman.
She had brought the first rope, her father was the man accused of treason and murder. She was at the heart of this, so she must do something. He would be watching; she was certain of that. Nell began to hurry. Down at the end of this corridor was the gun room and the men were occupied, if her luck held, until luncheon.
As she hoped, one of the baize-lined drawers held a number of handguns. Nell cautiously lifted the smallest out, not troubling to search for bullets. She had no idea how to load the thing and the thought of shooting anyone again—even the sinister Mr Salterton—turned her stomach. But he was not to know that.
With the weapon held under her heavy cloak, Nell walked boldly out of the front door, then took the path that led to the edge of the woods. It was only a few hundred yards to the paling fence that acted as a barrier to the deer. Beyond it the woods were deep and seemingly endless, the grey trunks of the beeches rising straight, their roots tucked into a thick quilt of golden leaves.
Nell began to stroll along the boundary path, trying to look like a woman taking a walk, interested only in the vivid flash of a jay overhead, peering into the woods in the hope of seeing a deer.
After fifteen minutes of toe-numbing dawdling through the snow, Nell was convinced she was alone. A dog-fox trotted out of cover, saw her, froze, then slid back into the brambles. Behind her was the flutter of wings as the pigeons she had disturbed returned to their roosts. She was the only human to alarm the wildlife.
With a sigh, she turned her back on the woods and leaned against the fence.
‘Looking for me, Helena?’ a soft, lilting voice said, just behind her.
Nell closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer that she had
some support; without the fence, she would have slid to the ground in shock.
‘Yes, Mr Salterton,’ she said, turning slowly to give herself time to compose her face.
And then it hit her: he had called her Helena. Not Nell, not Miss Latham, but Helena. He knows who I am.
The lithe figure stood a few feet back from the fence, poised like the fox between cover and the open, and something in his alertness, the fluid lines of his body, reminded her of the animal.
He wore a loose coat with a blue shirt under it, a black-and-white spotted kerchief tied around his neck, breeches and boots. Good boots, she noticed. But his collar was turned up and the brim of his slouch hat down, and all she could see of his face was dark eyes in the shadow and the curve of a sensuous, mocking smile.
‘A little rash of you, venturing out here alone,’ he remarked. Nell stared at him, intent on gathering every detail. Black hair, olive skin, the flash of gold from one ear lobe, ungloved hands with long fingers.
‘I think not,’ she said, producing the pistol and pointing it at him.
‘You can use that?’ He seemed amused, the flexible, musical voice sending an answering quiver through her, as though in response to a plucked string.
‘Of course. Lord Narborough insists all the ladies carry a pistol and we have been shown how to use them,’ she lied. ‘Why are you here? Why are you persecuting us?’
‘Persecuting?’ He was smiling, but his voice was suddenly colder than the air around her. ‘What do you know of persecution?’
‘A good deal,’ Nell retorted tartly. ‘Well? Have you a reason, or are you merely insane?’
‘Oh, yes, murderer’s daughter, I have a reason. I might even tell you about it. But not here, not with their lordships and that rake in uniform so close. You do not want them hurt, do you?’
‘No. No, I do not want anyone hurt. Where? When?’
‘You will know when. Come to the folly where your lover took you.’
Nell felt her face flame. ‘How do you know about that?’
