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Perhaps.
That attention had been enough… until it wasn’t, and after a while, she’d begun resenting his love of hunting and outdoor sport, for her fondness lay in curling up on a comfortable piece of furniture with a book—and the aforesaid cat—or spending an evening playing whist or chess. At least, that was what she’d spent her time doing ever since she left London in her past.
Oddly enough, the silence was more comfortable for her than standing about ballrooms wondering if she was still attractive at one and thirty with random cat hairs stuck to her gowns or whether she should marry again merely for companionship, over and above said cat. For that matter,ifshe did, what sort of gentleman would a widow of five years attract? And any sort of man would need to befriend Mathieu. That would be an interesting endeavor, for the cat was quite protective.
Belle snickered. Though she would enjoy watching a gentleman try and come up to that mark, but then that assumed she’d have to offer her heart again, and it was barely healed from when it broke at Laurence’s passing.
“Enough.” The wind snatched at the whisper. With another sigh, she shoved all of those maudlin thoughts aside. It was time to return to the house, merely to sit down to dinner alone, and then retire alone, and no amount of thinking about the past would help in that endeavor. Perhaps she should move into the next phase of her life by having the butler set a place at the table for the cat and then letting the feline sit next to his plate and eat with her.
Oh, dear. Perhaps I have already gone ‘round the bend.
As if knowing she was thinking of him, a soft meow sounded behind her. Smiling, Belle turned about. Trotting lightly toward her was Mathieu with his fur slightly mottled by the raindrops. “You poor little thing. What are you doing out here?” She crouched and took the cat into an embrace. Already, his purring reverberated in her chest, and he bumped his head beneath her chin. She giggled. “Come on, then. I suspect you want your dinner, same as me.”
The sleek cat meowed again. He jumped out of her arms and walked with dainty steps toward the direction of the manor house. As he turned his head to look back at her, she laughed.
“Clearly, you expect me to do your bidding, don’t you?” There were times when she thought she wasn’t the cat’s mistress but instead she was a handmaiden for the feline.
As the rain came down with a bit more gusto, the cat’s trot became a full-out run. By the time the manor house came into view, he’d scampered so far ahead of her that he’d no doubt gain entrance through the kitchens and be curled up in front of a fire long before she gained the entry hall.
“Of course you would leave me to the rain by myself,” she called after the feline, but he didn’t stick around to hear her complaint. “Just like a male. Snuggling up and putting me in a good mood, then running away to chase after his own desires regardless of what I want.”Good heavens, now I’m talking to myself.
Which was worse than merely talking to a cat.
As she rounded a curve in the path, a light glimmering within the winter-bare trees on the back lawn gave her pause. What was anyone doing out in the rain? She snorted.I am, aren’t I?The hood of the cloak kept the worse of the precipitation off her head and face. When another gust of wind blew against her skirting, another shiver went down her spine. Perhaps a little investigation wouldn’t hurt before she shut herself into the warm house for the night.
Thankful for the rain that muffled her footsteps, Belle picked her way closer to the stand of trees. The lantern light bobbed along, winking in and out of the trees in a direction toward the barn where the horses used to be housed. In the days when Laurence had been alive, they owned at least six horses of various kinds. Now, there were only two, merely for the times when she wished to take out a buggy or carriage. Truth be told, she didn’t really care for the large beasts; they frightened her with their massive size and big hooves. Her husband had always laughed off her fear, telling her they were just horses, but she’d never moved past that unease. It stemmed from falling off a pony in her childhood and nearly being trampled. She hadn’t approached an equine ever since.
Yet that dratted light bobbed through the rain until it ducked into the darkened barn. Belle held her bottom lip between her teeth for the space of a few heartbeats while she considered what to do next. It was the height of folly to plunge after this stranger, who could very well be of a criminal mind, and she had no weapon to speak of. Yet if she hesitated or took the time to return to the house and summon a footman, the intruder could escape. If he planned to rob them later, it was best to quell the threat now.
But…
Find your courage, Amelia. You have been without a man to protect you for five years. This is your estate just as much as it was your husband’s. Defend it if necessary.
Right. She had hidden herself away from everything in life since Laurence died because it had been easier than sorting through the mess and mire of emotions or even facing fears. No one bothered her at Ravenscroft, no one made demands of her time, but conversely, no one challenged her or stimulated her mind.
It was almost as if she’d given up living when Laurence left, and that wasn’t like her at all, but she’d been weary of losing people over the years, and in this way, if she kept herself aloof and hidden, perhaps she wouldn’t need to grieve again.
Such startling insights had never come to her before, so why now?
There were no answers.
Shaking her head as the rain continued to come down, Belle focused on the task at hand. The intruder needed to be dealt with. If it was merely a vagrant wishing for a warm, dry place to stay, of course she would offer the barn on the premise that they would move on in the morning, but if the owner of that lantern was more threatening then she would head off disaster the best she could. As she prowled closer to the barn, a series of shivers coursed down her spine.
Oh, why couldn’t he have chosen the carriage house or even one of the other outbuildings? Even through the rain, the pungent aromas of excrement, straw, and animals reached her nose. When she reached the doors, one of them had been cracked open—a sure indication that someone had indeed gone inside.
Drat, drat, drat!
Then she got hold of herself. Belle straightened her spine. She slipped inside the building, and immediately breathed a quick sigh of relief, for the temporary cessation from the rain was most welcome. Putting down her hood, she let her eyes adjust to the darkness. If the person who’d carried the lantern had come this way, they must have extinguished the light, for there was no illumination in the darkened building.
Soft wuffles from the horses as they settled into sleep met her ears. With every step forward she took, Belle scanned the rafters as well as the hayloft. Nothing seemed out of place, but then how often did she frequent the barn? Would she even notice if something odd were housed here? Another shiver wracked her shoulders. The two horses occupied stalls on the right-hand side. Was someone lurking in the empty stalls on the left? Slowly, she approached them.
Her heartbeat pounded through her veins. Fear twisted down her spine as her breathing became shallow. What to do now? A crash at the far end of the barn behind her provoked a gasp. She turned quickly about and trained her gaze to where she thought she’d heard the noise. Was it the intruder attempting to hide or was it a natural occurrence of tools settling?
No sooner had she taken a few steps toward the site of the crash than an arm snaked about her waist. A gloved hand clamped over her mouth, and as shock held her captive, the owner of the hands pulled her backward into the shadows toward one of the far stalls on the left side of the barn.
“Who the hell are you?” The raspy, whispered inquiry gave away the fact her attacker was a man.
Oh no!
