A Midsummer's Kiss (Farthingale Series Book 4) (25 page)

She frowned. “Let them try. I’ll make them regret the day they were ever born. I love you, Graelem. There isn’t a force on earth strong enough to keep us apart… except you. If you don’t wish—”

“That’s what I like about you,” he said with a grin. “One always knows where one stands with you. There’s no hiding when you’re angry or when you’re hot and wanton.”

She gasped and poked his shoulder. “Don’t look at me with that gleam in your eyes. I’m feeling neither hot nor wanton toward you right now, and that will not change once we reach the stables. If you think I’ll allow you to seduce me there again, you’d be wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.”

He grinned wickedly. “Care to wager on it?”

She poked him again. “No.” She’d lose the bet because she was never able to resist him or his kisses. “You’re an oaf for forcing me to admit it.”

“Lass—”

“We’ve gotten off the topic.”

Graelem folded his arms over his chest and straightened to his full imposing height. “No, we haven’t,” he said, towering over her and looking impossibly handsome. “I’ll assign one of my Bow Street runners to watch the mews tomorrow night. We’ll walk over there now, you and I. But you’re not to go near there tomorrow. I mean it, Laurel. You’re not to get in the way. If there is a plot afoot, I want you safe.”

She understood the danger and would do as he asked, but he must have noticed her bridling under the restraint, for he continued his warning. “I have years of battle experience and can judge how a man handles adversity. I know Devlin’s type. He’ll back down and run away from superior strength. But he’s also a sneak, and not above putting you in danger if he thinks it will serve his purpose.”

She wanted to disagree, but in her heart she knew he was right.

“If he dares to put a hand on you, I’ll kill him. No jest, Laurel. That’s how we’ve been trained to eliminate any threat. If he draws a weapon, I’ll kill him. If he so much as reaches for you, I’ll kill him.”

She dropped her hands to her sides. “You’ve made your point.”

“Good.”

“How many men have you killed?”

He turned away and started for the stable, purposely ignoring the question. “Are you coming with me?”

She hurried to keep up with him. “You wouldn’t really kill Devlin or your cousin, would you?”

“To protect you?” His gaze turned cold and hard once more. “Without hesitation.”

IN A
REMARKABLE SHOW
of good behavior, Laurel stayed home the following day and several days after that. Time sped by in a blur, her hours filled with helping her mother and Julia as friends continued to visit to pay their condolences. She’d seen little of Graelem other than their daily walks to the mews to check on Brutus, but Graelem hadn’t come by today and she already missed him terribly.

Tomorrow is Midsummer’s Day.

Graelem had been busy working with the Moray estate manager to ensure an easy transition of ownership of the unentailed properties to his cousin, Jordan Drummond.

If Graelem was despondent over the situation, he didn’t show it. Quite the opposite, he seemed calm and confident of earning back all that was about to be lost. “I’ll have to finance most of the purchases, but I have backers, and I know which Moray properties make sense for me to acquire. I built up much of Uncle Silas’ wealth and can do it again for us.”

However, she had no chance to think about it. Today would be their busiest day yet, for Uncle Harrison’s funeral had taken place this morning and most of the mourners had followed them back to the house from the churchyard.

Hundreds more were expected to stop in throughout the day. She and her sisters would have their hands full looking after all of them in addition to worrying about Julia and their mother, who had been up before dawn organizing the household for today. Her father and uncles were exhausted as well, the toll of losing their youngest brother weighing heavily on their hearts.

Daisy had been quiet again this morning, stealing glances at her as they readied themselves. When those odd looks persisted into the afternoon, Laurel had finally had enough and caught up to her sister in the entry hall, taking her aside beside the staircase. “What’s wrong now, Daisy? Please don’t turn away. I know you’re worried about something and it has to do with me.”

Daisy’s chin began to wobble, a sign that she was fighting to hold back tears, so Laurel knew this was serious. She took Daisy’s hand in hers. “I won’t stop asking until I have my answer. What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

Daisy let out a ragged sigh. “Why did you go to the mews again last night?”

“I told you, Brutus has been skittish again. We can’t figure out what’s wrong with him. I didn’t go alone, Graelem went with me. I’ve seen so little of him lately.” She tipped her head in confusion. “Daisy? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m just sorry that Graelem’s about to lose everything and you don’t seem to be doing anything to help him.”

Her eyes rounded in surprise. “First of all, he won’t let me do anything to help. He’s even more stubborn than I am, if you can believe it. Second, we’ve all been busy taking care of laying Uncle Harrison to rest.” She sighed and shook her head, then released a long, deep breath as the spirit seemed to drain from her. “I know what this is about. Devlin’s come around every day this week and you think he and I are planning something. You were reading a note by the stairs the other day, no doubt some more mischief concocted by Devlin. I can assure you that we’re not eloping, no matter what this latest note suggested. I love Graelem and will marry him… eventually. Why don’t you believe me?”

“I want to, it’s just that—”

“Daisy, there you are! Your mother is waiting for you.” Hortensia swooped between them on a lavender-perfumed breeze and drew Daisy away, leaving Laurel to stand alone, now worried and frustrated. Why didn’t her sister believe her?

And where was Graelem? He ought to have stopped in by now. Eloise had arrived almost half an hour ago. She started toward Eloise, but Pruitt intercepted her as she made her way through the gathering crowd. “Miss Laurel, it seems we have a situation in the kitchen. Mrs. Mayhew needs your assistance.”

“Of course.” She hurried to the kitchen and came to an abrupt halt. “What’s this?” There was a line of forty or fifty men standing outside the kitchen door.

“These men served under your uncle and have come to pay their respects,” said Mrs. Mayhew, wringing her hands. “Where am I to put them? There’s no room in the kitchen and they’re not… they don’t belong upstairs. They’ll startle your guests. Yet, your parents would be appalled if we turned them away.”

“Do we have food enough for everyone?” She glanced around and saw that every table was laden with pies and cakes, and every nook and cranny taken up with assorted savories ready to be delivered upstairs.

Mrs. Mayhew wiped her brow. “As you can see, there’s food enough to feed all of London. That isn’t the problem. Miss Laurel, I don’t have the heart to turn these soldiers away.”

Laurel agreed. “We’ll set out tables in the garden. I do hope the weather holds up. I’ll grab some fresh linens. Pruitt can spare a few footmen to help me. I’ll enlist my sisters. My family should be able to move easily between the parlor and the garden to greet everyone.”

It didn’t take long to put her plan into effect with everyone pitching in. Laurel was still in the garden talking to the soldiers and some of their well-heeled guests who had come outside to greet them as well when Graelem arrived. He came to her side. “Lass, you did all this?”

“Everyone helped. It’s wonderful, isn’t it? A fitting tribute to Uncle Harrison.”

“Indeed,” he said in a gentle murmur. “Nice work. I see that some of your finer guests have wandered outside.”

Laurel nodded. “Almost all of them have. But Julia won’t come out. I hope these soldiers understand she means no disrespect. Her loss is a raw, open wound, and she can’t cope with Uncle Harrison’s death yet. She can’t abide anything remotely military at the moment. It isn’t the fault of these men, it’s the dreadful toll this war has taken.”

Graelem put a hand to the small of her back, his touch a comforting warmth. “They understand.”

“I hope so. My parents came out to greet them all, but my mother had to return to Julia’s side. Father and Uncle Rupert are still out here somewhere talking to a few soldiers. Uncle George can’t stop being a healer, so he’s taken some of the men aside to look at their wounds. Lily’s over there.” She pointed to the corner of the garden where her sister stood surrounded by a dozen soldiers. “She’s explaining ancient Roman battle tactics to them.”

Graelem shook his head and laughed. “She has a rapt audience.”

“Too bad none of our generals will listen to her,” Laurel said with a nod. “She would have defeated Napoleon years ago.”

“I have no doubt.” Graelem chuckled again as he glanced at the other twin and shook his head in confusion. “What does Dillie have in her hands?”

“A ginger cake she swiped earlier. She intended to hide it for herself, but brought it out and cut it into squares to give to these men.” She sighed. “Daisy’s been wonderful, too. Most of these men are already in love with her.”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there.”

Laurel nodded. “But she still thinks I plan to elope with Devlin. We had a talk the other day and I thought we’d settled matters. She’s behaving oddly again today. I tried to draw her aside earlier, but couldn’t manage more than a few words before we were interrupted. Graelem, will you please talk to her?”

He shifted on his crutches. “I’ll do my best. I doubt it will help, especially if she thinks I’m the dupe in your tawdry love triangle.”

She poked his shoulder, her finger gently striking solid muscle. “I’m wanton, not tawdry. However, I’m glad you believe me.” She cast him a worried glance. “You do believe me, don’t you?”

He slid his hand around her waist and drew her closer. “Yes, love. I still believe you. Never had a doubt. Other women may know how to fake their feelings, but you don’t.” His lips twitched upward in a grin. “I know your wanton desire for me is genuine.
Ooh, Graelem. Kiss my hot body.
”

Her cheeks suddenly felt as though they were on fire. “You wretch! How can you be sure I wasn’t faking? It would serve you right.” She poked his shoulder again. “I could be a brilliant actress.”

He laughed. “You could be, but you’re not. Any seductress worth her salt would have used her finely honed tricks of persuasion to rouse my desire, her every move calculated to pleasure me with efficient precision in her learned art. You, my sweet, wanton Laurel, didn’t get a blessed thing right during our… er, interlude in the stables the other day. You didn’t even know what you were groping for.”

Laurel was too appalled to utter a word. The best she could do was sputter.

He put a finger to her lips. “I think that was the moment I fell in love with you.”

Did he just say that he loves me?

He shook his head and sighed. “No, that isn’t quite right. I’ve been in love with you all along, but convinced myself our betrothal could remain as nothing more than a business arrangement. Our first interlude in the parlor shot that plan to pieces. Despite your obvious lack of knowledge about men, that second time in the stable was incredible, too. After that, I could no longer deny the truth. You have my heart and always will. I love you, Laurel.”

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. The sun suddenly felt warmer and the breeze felt gentle and sweet. Even the birds seemed to be chirping a merrier song in the trees. “Oh, Graelem. Please say it again.”

“I’ll say it often and always, sweetheart.” He drew her behind the trunk of the twins’ escape tree. “I love you,” he said, wrapping her in his arms as he lowered his mouth to hers for an ardent and lingering kiss.

To say that she was swept away was an understatement.

She kissed him back with equal fervor, wishing for this moment never to end. He loved her! No matter what happened tomorrow, she knew all would be well. They’d deal with any problems and disappointments together.

She was still clinging to his shoulders as he ended the kiss and slowly eased away. “Lass, I can’t stay long. Jordan asked to meet me at his club this afternoon. I don’t know what he wants, but I’ll listen. Perhaps he simply wishes to gloat over his impending victory.”

She put a hand on his arm. “He hasn’t won yet, so be careful. After all the fuss I made about our betrothal, I’d hate to see it end because of a nefarious scheme of your cousin’s. Please, Graelem. Promise me that you’ll be careful.”

“I always am, love.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And I promise to talk to Daisy before I leave here. Ah, there she is.”

She watched him walk toward her sister, then went inside to check on her mother and Julia. Graelem didn’t return to bid her farewell, but it mattered little. He loved her. He’d told her so. She glided through the rest of the day as though on angel’s wings. All would work out. She knew it would. Graelem’s confidence was contagious.

The last of the guests left late. It was after eleven o’clock by the time the family was finally alone, and everyone was too exhausted to linger in the parlor to chat. Her mother and aunts excused themselves and headed upstairs to their chambers. The men retired to her father’s study, leaving her alone with her sisters—all but Rose, who had gone home earlier with Julian.

Finally! The chance to speak to Daisy. But Pruitt walked in with a note for her at that moment. “For me?” Curious, she opened it and read the one sentence.
Meet me outside. G.

She shook her head, finding it odd that Graelem wouldn’t simply stop by to see her even though the hour was late. The family usually stayed out well after midnight when attending balls or other social engagements. Of course, condolence visits weren’t quite the same thing. Today’s stream of visitors had exhausted them all, and Graelem was aware of it. He was just trying to be discreet.

She could ignore the request, but what if it was urgent? He’d met with his cousin today. Perhaps something important had happened that he wished to discuss with her outside of prying ears.

“I’ll be right back,” she told her sisters and hurried out of the room. She opened the front door and started down the steps to the gate. It was now dark outside, quite dark with the moon hidden behind gathering clouds. There was a dampness to the night breeze that signaled rain.

Laurel paused, her hand unmoving on the gate’s heavy knob. Suddenly, the note did not feel right. Graelem would have come to the door, not asked her to sneak around in the dark even if he sought privacy. Hadn’t he already warned her not to leave home alone?

She was about to turn back when she heard a crunch of leaves behind her. Before she was able to scream, someone clamped a big hand over her mouth and, with his other, pressed a foul-smelling handkerchief to her nose. She felt dizzy and couldn’t seem to push the fiend away. As her vision began to blur, a second man dropped a sack over her head, rolling her in it so tightly that she couldn’t breathe.

She tried to kick her assailants, and was still kicking and squirming and letting out muffled screams as the two of them attempted to carry her off. One held her by the legs and the other by her shoulders, which suggested these men were not used to lifting, for anyone with a little strength would have simply hauled her over his shoulder.

She kicked one of them and heard his cultured yelp in response.

These were gentlemen. Desperate gentlemen, as Graelem had described Devlin and Jordan. Had Graelem’s cousin formed a scoundrel’s alliance with Devlin? Their situations were entirely different now that Jordan was about to inherit the Moray assets.

What was to be gained by stealing her on the eve of his victory?

The sickeningly sweet scent of whatever had been poured onto the assailant’s handkerchief surrounded her and made her dizzy. She had to find a way out of this sack and breathe in fresh air before she passed out.

She kicked again with all her might and struck the same assailant in his soft belly. “Bloody hell! I thought you drugged her.” He tried to grab her ankles, but she managed another kick, this time a little lower, landing a blow at the junction of his thighs. He yelped again and fell to his knees groaning.

Her victory was short-lived, for a third assailant quickly took his place. Were there more?

She managed to kick this new man as well. “Bloody hell, why is she still moving?”