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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

Lovers Forever (26 page)

BOOK: Lovers Forever
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Handing the missive to Lovejoy, he said, “See that this is delivered to the young lady. Oh, and Lovejoy, do it discreetly, hmm? I thought it went without saying that I didn't want my grandmother or sister to be privy to my private life.”
Lovejoy flushed and looked indignant. “Sorry, sir! It weren't me that done the tongue flapping! It was that bacon-brained Jenny—she came to get a few things for the cottage, and before you could say ‘jack-be-quick' she was sitting at the servants' table, telling everyone who would listen about the goings-on at the old place. I spoke sharply to her when we had a private moment, and I don't think it'll happen again. I wasn't best happy about it.”
“Neither was I,” Nicolas replied dryly.
Tess wasn't happy with the contents of Nicolas's note, either. Like Nick, she had arisen later than planned. Considering the lateness of the hour, she had expected him at any moment, so she had hurried through her morning ablutions and then gulped down a light breakfast. As the hours had passed and he still had not appeared, she'd grown impatient. The contents of the note had been a great disappointment. And with it had come the realization of how very much she had been looking forward to his arrival—and not just because they'd be looking for a secret entrance! It had also occurred to her that if she were going to remain his mistress, she had better start learning to accept the fact that there were going to be many times when his plans with her were abruptly changed. The knowledge didn't sit well, and with a discontented expression on her face, she wandered about the main room of the cottage. She wasn't going to sit around and brood over his deflection. She also, she admitted with a twist of her lips, wasn't going to go looking for the secret entrance—she'd given her word. So what was she going to do all afternoon?
A glance out the window at the sunny afternoon decided her. There was a hint of darkening clouds on the horizon, which probably meant more rain by nightfall, but at the moment the day was most delightful. Draping a soft, brightly colored cashmere shawl about her shoulders, she explained to Rose that she was going for a short walk, and she stepped out into the warm fall sunshine.
Tess had no idea where she was going, she just wanted some exercise and fresh air. She was restless and eager to escape for a while from the confines of the cottage, and, she admitted a little guiltily, she wanted to see if she recognized anything.
She walked briskly down the road, looking about her interestedly. While she didn't expect to suddenly recognize a particular spot, she hoped that she might see something that would remind her of home—wherever that was!
She had walked about a half mile from the cottage when, some distance through the trees and brush, she spied the remnants of an old apple orchard. Curious, she left the road and, lifting her skirts to keep them from snagging on limbs and branches, made her way to the small clearing in which grew several ancient apple trees.
The orchard didn't spark any memory, but it was a pleasant place, and she wandered about idly, not looking at anything in particular. She was there for several moments before a feeling of unease swept over her. For no discernible reason, the orchard and forest suddenly seemed to press in on her, and she was seized by an inexplicable need to seek out the company of other people.
Without a backward glance, she began to hurry into the woods that separated her from the road, heedless of the racket she made. As she hastily made her way toward the road, she realized with horror that the crashing noises she heard were not hers alone: someone was chasing her!
With her heart slamming against her ribs, she broke into a dead run, not risking even a glance over her shoulder. The road was only yards away from her when a silk ribbon dropped over her head and almost instantly began to tighten around her neck.
She was nearly jerked off her feet by the suddenness of the brutal attack, and she fought madly, twisting and kicking, her hands clawing at the ribbon that bit mercilessly into her neck, choking her, cutting off her breath.
Several seconds passed as Tess and her attacker fought in grim, deadly silence, but her efforts to escape from the painful pressure around her neck proved futile. The ribbon was cutting cruelly into the soft skin of her throat, her lungs felt as if they were bursting, and there were terrifying black spots dancing in front of her eyes. A bolt of utter rage shot through her—she wasn't going to end her life this way! Like a wild thing she redoubled her efforts and fought for air, for life itself—all to no avail. It occurred to her then that she really was going to die ... die without knowing who she was, by the hand of an unknown assailant, for an unknown reason, in a place she didn't recognize....
Then blackness seized her and all went dark.
Chapter Fifteen
“
O
h
, miss
! Dear God! Don't be dead! Thomas? Oh, Tom,
do
hurry!” cried Rose Laidlaw with great urgency. The limp body of her mistress was cradled in her arms as she sat on the ground. Rose looked around nervously, but nothing menacing met her gaze. Yet only moments before, incredibly, someone had tried to strangle the earl's mistress!
The sound of running feet and her husband's worried shout broke into Rose's agitated thoughts. With relief, she saw her husband and his brother pushing their way through the short distance of trees and brush that separated her from them. When they reached her and spied the still form in her arms, they both gasped.
“What happened?” demanded Tom. “Did she faint?”
Wordlessly Rose showed them the crimson ribbon that bit deep into Tess's neck.
“Never say someone tried to
murder
her!” John burst out incredulously.
“I don't know what happened,” Rose replied almost tearfully. “Miss had said that she wanted to go for a walk, and it was only after she had been gone for several moments that I thought, with her being a stranger and all, that I should have gone with her. I told your mother where I was going and set out after her.” Tenderly she brushed aside one of Tess's fiery curls from the pale face and said in trembling accents, “I was worried straightaway when I didn't see her on the road, and then I remembered the old orchard and thought she might have decided to explore....” Her eyes widened with remembered terror. “Oh, Tom! It was horrible. I looked over here and there they were—miss fighting for all she was worth, and a gentleman, a tall gentleman in a greatcoat like the master's, standing behind her,
strangling
her with this ribbon.” She gulped back tears. “I just stood there for a second staring, for I couldn't hardly believe my eyes, and then miss sort of went limp and slumped. I must have made a sound, for the man suddenly looked over at me. Oh, I was so frightened that he was going to come after me, but he just threw her to the ground and ran away into the woods.”
Both men knelt beside the women, and while Tom comforted his sobbing wife, John quickly ascertained that the young lady, while unconscious and with a pitifully bruised and swollen neck, was alive. As Tom helped Rose to her feet, John swept Tess's small body up into his arms, and together they hurried down the road toward the cottage.
Pandemonium reigned for several moments when they finally reached their destination. There were frightened exclamations by Sara and Jenny and a babble of explanations from the others. The only thing that gave comfort to any of them was the faint but steady rise and fall of Tess's bosom.
Not wishing to leave her alone for a moment, and feeling the instinctive need to stick together, they all decided to set up a small bed in the kitchen. It made excellent sense. The kitchen was the heartbeat of the house, and everything needed for an invalid was readily at hand.
Only after a bed had been brought in and positioned near the hearth and Tess had been gently laid upon it did anyone think to notify the earl of this near tragic event. John, his face grim, a razor-sharp knife handy in his jacket pocket, set out a few minutes later for Sherbourne Court. Someone might have attacked miss, but they weren't going to get away unscathed if they tried for
him
!
At the court precious moments were lost while John argued with his uncle Bellingham that he had to see the earl immediately and that it was private! With ill grace and much muttering about “ungrateful upstart young whelps,” Bellingham eventually went in search of Nicolas.
If Nicolas was surprised by his butler's whispered request that he see a visitor in his study this very instant, he gave no sign. He made some excuse to the Rockwells and left them merrily playing billiards in the game room, where they had been whiling away the hours until it was time for their foray upon the manor that evening. He swiftly followed Bellingham to the study.
Seeing John's face as he entered the room, Nicolas felt a knot of icy fear form in his belly. Something terrible had happened to Dolly! He knew it in every fiber of his being, and the idea that she might have been harmed filled him with a stark, helpless terror. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before in his life—not even when he had been in situations that he had known might cost him his own life.
The second the door shut behind the butler, barely taking time to dismiss a much interested Bellingham, he demanded roughly, “Dolly? Is she hurt?”
Quickly John told him what had happened. The news that Dolly was unconscious but alive lessened his fear only marginally, and he clung desperately to the only thing that gave any comfort at all—she was
alive!
John's tale seemed incredible, and for a few seconds Nicolas simply stared at him in stunned disbelief. Good God! This was the bucolic Kentish countryside—not some vice-ridden London parish! Why in hell would someone want to murder his mistress? There was no reason.... Suddenly his eyes narrowed. The smugglers! Had they struck at Dolly to drive him away from the gatekeeper's cottage? Had the attack been a warning to him? Angrily he shook away those particular ideas. The reasons didn't matter right now—what
did
matter was the fact that someone had dared to strike out at the woman he considered his own. A renewed surge of rage went through him at that ugly knowledge. His hands clenched into fists, and for one moment he thought of the pleasure it would give him to face the coward who had struck down a defenseless woman.
The urgent need to see Dolly, to see for himself that she was indeed alive, suddenly overrode all other considerations—even those of vengeance. Motioning abruptly for John to follow him, he strode impatiently from the room. Not five minutes later, after a lightning raid on the stables for a pair of horses, which were saddled in a blink of the eye, they were riding swiftly toward the gatekeeper's cottage.
Nicolas tried to keep his roiling emotions in check as their horses thundered down the road. He fought against letting himself dwell on what had happened to Dolly, nor did he want even to examine how he would have felt if John's news had been more soul destroying—if her attacker had succeeded and she lay dead.... A shudder went through him, and he wrenched his thoughts away from the path they had so rebelliously taken. He couldn't even take solace in considering the improbability of it all. The who ... the why. All that mattered was that she was alive and that he must reach her side in the shortest possible time.
The cottage came into view, and Nicolas brought his horse to a rearing halt. Flinging the reins in John's direction, he was dismounted and racing toward the door before his horse's hooves even hit the ground.
Like a wild man, he burst into the cottage through the kitchen entrance, only to skid to a halt in the doorway at the sight of Dolly, held half upright by Sara, painfully sipping a cup of warm milk. His heart, for the first time since he'd seen John's face, slowed its frantic pounding, and a huge wash of relief swept over him, leaving him weak and trembling.
She
was
alive and apparently now conscious. Fighting for control of his disordered emotions, Nicolas stood there a moment longer. Then, feeling as if he were once more in command of himself, he walked into the room.
On the surface it was a pleasant scene that greeted him. A small bed with a mahogany headboard, piled high with pillows and quilts, had been set up on one side of the kitchen, not far from the cheerfully burning fire. Jenny and Rose were busily stirring various pots and pans on the big black stove, the scent of baking bread and simmering sauces hung in the air, and Sara, her face soft with concern, hovered over Dolly. Nicolas was barely aware of the other women, his gaze locked on the slender woman in the bed. Seeing her sitting upright, those bright red curls tumbling in charming disarray around her pale features, he felt the last of his terror vanish. She was safe!
He tried for a casual note as he approached her bed, but the smile on his mouth was twisted and there was a husky tone to his voice as he said with forced lightness, “I understand that you had an adventure this afternoon—I suppose this will teach me not to leave you to your own devices very often.”
“Nick!”
Tess croaked out, tears springing to her eyes at the sight of his tall, broad-shouldered form. She hadn't known how desperately she wanted to see him until he had suddenly appeared.
He was at her side in an instant, kneeling on the floor and gently catching and enfolding her against him as Sara stepped aside and Tess flung herself into his arms. Oblivious of anything but the small woman in his arms, he held her a long time, her face nestled into his warm neck, her curls tickling his mouth and nose. If anything had happened to her . . . His arms tightened and he swallowed painfully, aware of the sting of tears at his own eyes.
Gruffly he asked, “How do you feel? Are you really all right?”
She gave him a misty smile. “My throat hurts awfully, and I can't seem to stop my teeth from chattering, nor my limbs from shaking, but other than that, I am fine.”
Reluctantly Nick settled her into the bank of pillows Sara had thoughtfully arranged at her back. His eyes searched her lovely face, looking for the truth of her words. She did look fine, except, he thought with a thinning of his lips, for that angry red line around her slender throat. It looked hideous, an ugly scar against her soft white flesh, the black and purple of deep bruising already showing along the edges.
It wasn't until that moment that the enormity of what she had escaped hit him.
Someone had deliberately tried to murder her!
Again he felt rage well up inside of him, but he pushed it aside. Rage would not help now. No, now he needed a cool head. Logical thinking. Measured emotions. A plan. He had to find her attacker. Then, and only then, would he allow the great beast of rage within him free reign....
He pulled up a chair beside her bed and held her hand. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly.
Tess grimaced. “I don't
want
to talk about it, but I know I must. Oh, Nicolas, it was so incredible! One moment I was walking along, and the next ...” Her eyes widened with remembered terror, and her breath caught painfully.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed lightly. “Hush,” he said. “You don't have to tell me about it right now. We'll talk about it in a few hours, hmm? When you're more yourself?”
She nodded, sending him a watery smile. “My head does ache so awfully,” she admitted. “I think I hit it on something when I blacked out and fell to the ground.” A shiver went through her.
“Now then, that's enough of that,” scolded Sara. Giving the earl a stern glance, she bustled over to Tess's side with a fresh cup of warm milk, this time liberally laced with brandy. “The poor dear just only opened her eyes a few minutes before you came bursting through the door. You don't be pestering her with a lot of questions.”
Not the least offended by Sara's familiar manner, Nicolas flashed her a charming smile. “I shall be guided by your superior knowledge, madame,” he said, a teasing gleam dancing in his black eyes. “And shall only speak with the young lady when you deem it appropriate.”
“Oh, go on with you!” Sara replied with a gratified smile. Shaking a finger at him, she added lightly, “You'll do exactly as you've always done since you were a small boy, Master Nick—precisely as you please!”
Nicolas laughed. “Guilty, madame, but in this case, I
shall
follow your wishes.”
He glanced around as John entered the room and asked, “Robert? Where is he?”
It was Rose who answered. With anxious features she said, “He went back to the place where it happened. I asked him to wait for you and John, but he wanted to examine the area right away.”
Nicolas nodded approvingly. “Since you ladies appear to have matters well in hand, we shall join him and see what we can discover before it gets any later.” He pressed a swift, gentle kiss on Tess's lips, and then he was gone, with John following swiftly at his heels.
They found Robert a few minutes later, trudging down the road toward them. As soon as the other two men approached, he said, “I found where he tied his horse—there is a pile of droppings there, and you can see where the animal cropped the nearby vegetation—but other than that ...”
BOOK: Lovers Forever
10.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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