Dare to Love (20 page)

William’s head shot up. “We?”

Damn
. He must still be muddled from the laudanum. So much for keeping Nivea’s secret.

“Ahhh, did I say we?” Dare faltered.

“You most certainly did. And judging by the hoof prints, there was definitely more than one horse here,” confirmed Joseph with a smirk. “Looks like I may have been correct. You were out on a clandestine interlude, weren’t you?”

“Come, sir. If you were out here with a woman, we need to know,” barked the earl. “If this was in fact the result of a jealous husband, it is a completely different matter.”

Fixing a glare on his friends, Dare considered how to resolve the situation. By admitting he was with Nivea, he would have to divulge her secret. But if he said it was another woman, they would end their search. Dare definitely wanted to learn who shot him, he decided it best to come clean. He hoped she would understand. “I was riding with Nivea yesterday.”

William shot him an angry look, while Joseph fought back a grin. “I told you he had been up to no good.”

William turned his glare on Joseph before growling, “What in God’s name were you doing out here with my sister, Landis?”

Dare knew he had to give a careful answer. Affecting a dispassionate air, he answered, “I was doing her a favor.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” William sneered, edging his horse closer to Dare’s.

“That’s enough, William,” the earl cut in. “Lord Landis, give us the details, if you please.”

With his mouth set in a grim line, Dare turned his attention to the earl. “Well, sir, following our mishap on our trip from London, Nivea decided to increase her proficiency on a horse. I offered to assist.”

The earl’s brow furrowed as he considered this surprising response. “But why would she come to you for help? Why didn’t she ask one of us?”

“She had hoped to keep it a secret, in order to surprise you, once she mastered her riding skills.”

“And why did you agree?” asked William, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Ah, he would have to dance around the truth on that one
. Sliding into a haughty drawl, he answered, “Perhaps, I felt I owed her after making her arrival here so uncomfortable. Or perhaps because she was so determined to make you proud, I thought it noble to help. But most likely, I was bored and she caught me in a rare moment of weakness.”

Then, while fighting back the images of Nivea, lying under him, soft and flushed with passion, he fixed an arrogant stare on his oldest friend and boldly stated, “Regardless of my motivation, I can assure you, I did not molest your sister during our ride.”

The truth had never been so thoroughly strained. But it worked.

He was a bit unnerved by the earl’s intent stare, but then the man proclaimed, “Well, as Nivvy has not expressed any concerns over your behavior, I think we can assume you have behaved as a gentleman.”

The others appeared satisfied for they dismounted to survey the surrounding ground. Dare let the matter drop, but their attitude irked him. Dammit, why did he have to explain himself? He was the one who’d been shot. Sore from the injury and angry with himself for betraying Nivea’s secret, Dare watched them in silence as they scoured the area.

“I don’t see anything here. Let’s proceed toward the ruins and look for anything unusual.” The earl remounted and urged his horse forward.

As soon as they arrived at the ruins, it was obvious the area had been in use. Footsteps crisscrossed the dirt trails and the brush surrounding the abbey’s structure was flattened.

They spread out, and it wasn’t long before Joseph called out. “Ho, look here. I found a hideaway tucked into the wall. It appears a small group of mischief makers have been making themselves comfortable.”

“Mischief makers?” Dare snapped. “I hardly think being shot off my horse can be qualified as mischief.”

The others tramped over to the area and found the remains of a fire, a blanket stuffed behind a rock, and a satchel covered by twigs and leaves.

Dare strode over and dumped the satchel on the ground.

Out fell a hardened lump of bread, a small bag of gunpowder, a handful of misshapen round metal balls, flint, and a penknife. Picking up the penknife, Dare examined the handle. “It has initials carved in it. K.D. Does that mean anything to you, gentlemen?”

William turned around from the edge of the woods and called back, “Could be Kirby Dugan, the blacksmith in town. While I doubt it’s him, he has a passel of boys at home.” He walked closer, holding an object in his hand. It was a piece of white bark with holes in it. “I found this too. Looks like boys were up here taking target practice. There’s a bunch of metal pieces along the ground—not well-made bullets, but maybe bits left over from the smithy.”

The earl shook his head. “Damn fools must have been out here practicing. Chances are a shot went wide and managed to clip you, Landis.”

“Who allows their children to run wild like that?” Dare growled. It was intolerable to think he’d been wounded by a pack of unruly brats.

“I seem to recall Dugan lost his wife last year, leaving him with half a dozen boys under the age of twelve. It’s difficult for a man to keep all that in line,” recalled William. “I think Nivea went to visit a few times to bring them food and supplies until they could get back on their feet.”

“And they repay her by shooting at her? She could have been killed!” Dare flailed his arms, only to wince from pain as he jolted his injury.

“Very true. We must remember that they are still young and may not realize the implications of their actions,” soothed the earl.

“That’s no damn excuse for letting them shoot at people. We need to teach these Dugans a lesson on how to behave!”

“Most assuredly. We will go to the village and have a word. But we will behave as gentlemen and not go flinging accusations about,” the earl stated.

It was easy for him to react so calmly to the situation. He wasn’t the one with a bullet hole in his side. Pulling himself back into the saddle sent another burst of pain through him, and he grew more bitter.

When they arrived in town, William took a look at Dare’s incensed expression and announced, “I’ll go talk to Dugan and see what we can find out. Wait here.”

He headed to the smithy and disappeared inside. A few moments later a large, burly man came flying out of the door.

“Ian! Robbie! Where are you, you little hellions? I’ll beat you both bloody.” He stormed into the house next door and grabbed two thin, mangy-looking lads, dragging them outside. Shaking them violently by the scruff of their necks, he bellowed, “You two have some explaining to do. Yesterday, when you should have been out helping Miss Irma tending her garden, you were up by the ruins where you shot a lord! These gentlemen tell me they found your satchel and my knife there.”

His face was as red as a blazing sun and his thick-corded arms rippled as he shook his sons. Their long, black hair whipped around their dirty faces, eyes wide with fear.

“Now, you stand here and beg forgiveness while I get the strap to beat you.” He shoved them forward and they stumbled toward the horses. With a growl, he thundered into the smithy, then emerged clutching a thick piece of leather.

The boys looked up at Dare with terror in their eyes. As he sat there, high above them on his horse, he remembered how horrendous this situation felt. His own father had towered over him, waving his whip, yelling at him over some transgression. He didn’t always know what had caused the anger, but that didn’t matter. There would be no escaping the pain.

“Speak up boys! Come clean before I beat you bloody!” yelled Dugan as he barreled over to them.

In that instant, Dare’s anger drained away. “Enough!” he yelled, immediately grimacing from the effort.

Dugan looked up. “I beg your pardon, milord. Would you like to do it then?” He turned back to his sons. “He’s within his rights, you know. You deserve no better.” He held the strap up to Dare. “Here, tire yourself out, if you like.”

The other gentlemen looked on with horror as Dare dismounted and headed toward Dugan. Most of them had been on the losing side of a boxing match with Dare when he was in a temper and were well aware of what he was capable. But just as they were on the verge of calling to him to be merciful, he announced in a strained voice, “That won’t be necessary. I would prefer to take the boys inside and have a few words with them in private.”

That brought Dugan up short. He opened his mouth to protest, but the look Dare shot him brooked no argument. The boys stared at him in terror, totally unable to imagine what fate might befall them inside.

“Come!” he barked at them and pointed toward the house. As he strode forward, they began babbling their apologies.

“So sorry, milord. We didn’t know, milord. An accident, to be sure. We were just—”

“Landis,” shouted the earl in a warning tone.

Dare dismissed his concerns with a flick of his wrist and headed inside.

After a few moments, he called Dugan into the house. It didn’t take him long to settle the matter, and he left pleased with the outcome.

Dugan followed, bowing and scraping in his wake. “Thank you, milord. You are too kind, milord. Your mercy will not be forgotten.”

Brushing a speck of dust off his coat, Dare climbed back onto his horse.

The two boys stumbled outside. Where they had previously cowered in fear, they now stood straight and tall, nervous smiles hovering on their lips.

Dare withdrew his snuffbox, took a pinch, and glanced down at Dugan with a fierce look. Dugan bowed his head. Content the man was sufficiently cowed, Dare gave his horse a rap with his heels and set off down the road.

His friends trailed behind, remaining quiet until they reached the edge of town.

Joseph could no longer contain himself. “What in bloody hell was that all about?”

Dare kept his gaze on the road ahead. “The matter has been handled to my satisfaction. I have faith that there will be no more incidents regarding the Dugan clan.”

“But Dare—” began William, but his father cut him off.

“If Lord Landis is satisfied with the situation, so am I. Let’s go home,” said the earl, ending the conversation.

Nivea spent an anxious afternoon in the parlor awaiting Dare’s return. Tea with the women was a tense affair, listening to them gossip about the possible scenarios that could have caused Dare’s injury.

She hoped the men were able to discover what had happened out there. Being with Dare when he had been shot had been terrifying. But not wanting to publicize their growing relationship, she couldn’t share her concerns with anyone.

So she moved to sit in the far corner of the room, where she gazed out the window, sipping on her umpteenth cup of tea. She rested her head against the cool pane of glass, as though it could soothe her heated thoughts.

She couldn’t get the images from yesterday out of her mind. Dare dropping from his saddle in pain. Blood staining his shirt. And then his scars! They had made her physically ill—puckered ridges stretching across his back, some blotchy red and brown, while others curling around his shoulder and ribs had faded to a translucent shine. They were horrendous.

She couldn’t fathom how a man could do that to his son…a child. And to think no one in his family had tried to protect him. Instead, they had provoked even more punishment.

Restless, she got up from her chair to pace. How was it, after all these years, no one else knew of Dare’s torment? Not even her brother. How had he managed to keep this secret from everyone? She desperately wanted to let him know that she cared. That she loved him and nothing he had told her would change that. But would he believe her? Probably not.

She sighed.

“Nivvy? Are you all right?” Betsy reached out a hand, her brow creased with worry.

“What? Oh, yes, I’m just…erm…worried. About the shooting.” Casting about for a way to deflect her preoccupation with Dare, she blustered, “I hope the men are safe out there today.”

Betsy’s eyes teared. “Yes, I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to William. I would be…”

She couldn’t even finish the thought. Instead she dabbed at her eyes and then gulped down another sip of tea. Nivea tried to offer a comforting response, but the effort was too much. “This waiting is exhausting. I think I may go lie down.”

Betsy forced a smile, “Yes, that’s a good idea. We will let you know when the men return.”

Desperate for solitude, Nivea headed for her room. As she walked up the stairs, she began to catalogue the remarkable turn of events that had occurred over the past fortnight. There had been so much to comprehend.

First, Dare had insinuated that she was so unappealing, she was incapable of finding a husband. Then he’d ravished her, the second time while berating her over a supposed betrayal. And once she’d convinced herself that their relationship was completely ruined, he had a complete about face and announced he found her irresistible. How was that even possible? Then, he had gotten shot right in front of her eyes.

Shot! As though he hadn’t been through enough.

Exhausted, she rubbed her hand over her eyes. She couldn’t wait to lie down. Walking into her room, she was just steps away from her bed when she noticed something near the headboard. Leaning in for a closer look, her heart stuttered.

Forget-me-nots.

On her pillow.

Had Dare been in her room? Had he left forget-me-nots for her? No one else knew of her preference. In fact, no one had ever given her flowers before, not in such an intimate fashion.

She gathered them up and pressed them to her face. No longer tired, she twirled around the room. Dare had been thinking about her. He had deliberately slipped into her room. How romantic.

Wait. Hadn’t he been angry with her earlier, barking that they needed to talk?

She stretched out on the bed and tried to remember. Had he been irritated with her? And if so, why had he left her flowers?

Perhaps he
hadn’t
been angry. Maybe it was his pain that made him seem cross. That had to be it. He said he would sneak into her room to see her. It was dangerous, but she wasn’t about to dissuade him. After all, she was already ruined. And maybe, hopefully, it would turn to something more.