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Chapter Thirty-Six
It is not nor it cannot come togood.
—Shakespeare,Hamlet
Catherine stomped downthe front steps, yanking on her gloves. She flicked at an irritating tendril of hair freed by the breeze and wished she had taken the time to retrieve a bonnet and perhaps a shawl for added warmth. The air was chilling against her heated cheeks, and the spray from the fountain added to the feeling of dampness. At least it had stopped raining. She tugged the cloak tighter and headed toward the stables.
She could not believe Nicholas would dismiss her worth with the wave of a hand. She’d done fine without him the last four years, thank you very much! He was not the all-controlling captain here. She didn’t have to take orders from him. She had as much right to help catch this culprit as…as…well,morethan Lord Thornwood actually! Her brother and father would suffer greatly if this miscreant exposed everything to the world.
The stables loomed, and she paused, out of breath from her fast pace and her wrath. She pulled open the doors but did not see anyone in the aisle. “Charlie,” she called out but heard nothing except the rustling of the horses. She strolled between the stalls, the animals’ breath misting the air as they came to their gates to greet her.
“I’m sorry, boys; I didn’t bring any treats today.” She stopped and patted Taurus’s dark forehead. “And he callsyoustubborn,” she grumbled.
“Charlie.” She called out louder this time, heading toward the tack room at the far end. Where was everyone today? The ever-present Fredericks had not been in the atrium to assist her with her pelisse. Could Nicholas’s suspicions be correct? She shook her head at slipping into his disturbing doubts. Yes, perhaps gnarly, old Fredericks and humped-over Charlie were in collusion, plotting the demise of the great Woodfields. She snorted with irritation.
“My lady?”
Catherine jumped, her heart racing. Charlie stood in the doorway, cap in hand.
“Goodness, Charlie, you startled me.”
“Apologies, my lady. I was just out checking the paddocks and saw the door open. Is aught amiss?”
“No, Charlie. All is well. Please saddle Star for me.”
“But, begging your pardon, it will be dark soon.”
Did all men think her incapable? “I am merely riding to Stratton Hall,” she snapped. He was red-faced as she marched past him to wait outside. It seemed an eternity before he brought Star out, fully outfitted.
“I do apologize, my lady,” he said quietly, cupping his hands together to help her mount.
Fully seated, she looked down at him, shame adding to the turmoil in her stomach. She did not bark at the servants. Charlie had not deserved her ire. “It is I who apologize.”
Charlie touched his fingers to his hat in acknowledgment, and she nudged Star south toward the path around the large lake that led to her father’s estate. The trail had borne the brunt of the days of relentless rain, making the going far slower than she had anticipated. She would not risk Star despite the urgent need to catch this rogue and put an end to the threat.
She rounded the end of the lake and stopped. At the north end, out of view, lay the folly. Nicholas and Lord Thornwood must already be in place. The sky was darkening quickly. Dusk was almost upon them. She would never be able to make it to Stratton Hall in time for her father to be of any help. If she’d brought Sadie as Nicholas had commanded, she could have sent her on with word. Anger was so shortsighted.
She would just have to improvise and face Nicholas’s wrath. Well, quid pro quo, she supposed. She had certainly unleashed hers upon him. Pulling on the rein, she urged Star off the main path and carefully picked through the woods on the opposite side of the lake. It would bring her to the back of the pavilion.
Stopping a short distance away, she slid from Star, not bothering to tether the horse. If she wandered at all, it would be to Stratton or back to Woodfield. The old horse was at home in both stables and knew the routes well.
“Stay here, girl.” Star’s nostrils flared as she snorted, then nuzzled Catherine’s neck, her steamy breath comforting. “God willing, I won’t be long.”
Moving cautiously, Catherine glimpsed the lake through the trees. She knew the woods well. She, Nicholas, and their brothers had passed many afternoons playing here as children. In truth, it had mostly been her chasing the boys and trying to infiltrate their games.
The brush grew denser near the folly. Her foot caught a root, and she stumbled. “Oh!” She bit the tip of her tongue, slamming her mouth shut to muffle her outburst. She held her breath, listening. The wind fluttered through the trees. She shivered, swallowing the metallic taste of blood and rubbing her foot. Her short boots were sodden, the leather most likely ruined. They were her favorite pair. Another strike against the scoundrel.
She pushed cautiously to her feet and swiped at her dampened skirts.Onward, soldier. Must make the captain proud.She picked her way more carefully, keeping her eyes on the ground. She had no doubt Nicholas had been a formidable officer. He was certainly imperious enough. She sighed. That was unkind. He was only trying to protect her. Could she truly fault that?
“Stop where you are or I’ll shoot!”
She halted abruptly at Nicholas’s shouted command just as someone came flying through a bush. The wind rushed from her lungs, and pain shot up her back, her head somehow spared from smacking the ground. She looked up into the baby-blue eyes of her attacker, who looked as surprised as she felt.
“You,” she whispered on the exhale, too shocked to say anything else before lying back, sucking air, each breath agony.Dear Lord, what now?
