If He's Daring (5 page)

“A superstitious man acts differently than one who is not troubled by such things,” Orion said as soon as the door closed behind the maid.

She thought about that for a moment and nodded. “Yes, I suppose he would. I was just realizing that Morris is very superstitious, very worried about ghosts and goblins and things that go bump in the night. It is as if he never matured past the age where he feared what was under the bed.”

“There is sometimes good reason to fear what is under the bed, so to speak. A man like that,” he continued before she could remark on his words, “will not stay in an inn named, let us say, the Devil’s Horseman. He will travel on to one with a less ominous name. He may even do a few things that draw the attention of the people around him, like tossing salt over his shoulder if he spills it or becoming nervous just because a black cat walks by. Most people have a touch of superstition in them, and have limits as to what odd things they will accept with ease, but the worst of such fears have passed except in a few. I suppose he believes in such things as witches.”

“Oh yes. There was a fair near us when we were at the country house, and Alwyn wished to go. So did I. But Morris refused to come with us because he said there was a witch there. He meant the gypsy, I suspect, who was doing her readings or whatever they are called. I thought he just used it as an excuse to hurry away from the country, because he left that day; but the more I thought on it, the more I realized he was serious.”

“And exactly what does Morris look like? Tall, short, red hair, black hair?”

“He does have dark hair, but it is more of a very dark brown. Hazel eyes. Shorter than you and almost too thin. He prefers to wear his wig when out and about, for his hair is thinning. He also prefers his clothing to be as bright as his carriage. Morris is a bit of a dandy. Otherwise he is not one who would stand out in a crowd. There is nothing about him, aside from his bad taste in clothing, that would make you recall him if you ever met him.”

“And your husband had dark brown hair?”

“Not as dark as Morris’s, but yes. Why?”

“Because I begin to wonder if we have been following the right carriage, despite my inability to believe there could be two such gaudy carriages on the road. Everyone who has seen it has mentioned the small boy looking out of the window as having black hair, very black hair, rather like Giles’s.”

Orion noted the faint hint of color that came and went on her smooth cheeks. The boy’s hair color had obviously troubled her. He wondered if he had judged her wrong, if she was more daring than he had thought her to be. Had she cuckolded her husband?

“I know.” Catryn rubbed her forehead. Even speaking of Alwyn’s hair, so different from hers or her husband’s, or even her father’s, never failed to give her a headache. “My father says that color shows up in our bloodline now and then. It goes back a long way.”

“To some distant relative?”

“Yes, but he never told me who. I asked, but he said he would have to search the books he has on the family, and I soon forgot to remind him that I was waiting to know. It would have been nice to have a name to spit out every time someone noted that Alwyn’s hair is an odd color for a redhead and brunet to produce. Always remarked upon ever so gently and politely, however.”

He was not surprised by the bite in her words. It was easy to imagine just how such a prying inquiry would be made, and the poorly hidden implication behind it. Orion ignored the twinge of disappointment he felt over the fact that she had not cuckolded her husband, thus making her a prime target for seduction, especially since that twinge was overshadowed by how much it pleased him to have her innocence confirmed. What he saw now was more proof that Giles could be right: Young Alwyn, even Lady Catryn, could be blood kin of the Wherlockes or Vaughns. Thin, watered down, distant though it might be, there was a chance the tie was there, lost in the midst of time and turmoil. It was very hard to vanquish all Wherlocke or Vaughn blood, however, which explained the occasional gift appearing in people who had never realized they were connected to his family.

“Does all this help? I have the feeling that you now believe we have gone from just following the man to, perhaps, having to hunt him down.”

Orion pushed his dish aside and refilled his tankard with the last of the wine. “I do. If not immediately, then very soon. He will learn that you are hard at his heels and that he should alter his route to throw you off. It is what I would do.”

“Then this is going to take far longer than you may have planned for, and may be far more difficult than I had anticipated. It might be wiser if I went to the authorities or hired someone.”

“No, best to keep this all as private as possible. If it is made too public, the man might consider it best to get rid of the evidence of his crime.” He nodded when she paled. “Keeping it private could be the best thing for the safety of your child.”

“It is what I would prefer, but I also do not want to leave Alwyn in Morris’s hands for too long.”

“The boy will be freed of the man soon. I am very good at this, Lady Catryn, and that is not an empty boast. Everyone has a particular skill. Mine is finding people and things. The only thing that does trouble me is your opinion that Morris is much akin to a spoiled child. That would mean he is bad at planning, perhaps erratic, but it should only slow me down a little. I will still find him. The thing you must think on now is just what you want done with Morris when we find him and get your son back.”

 

 

Catryn was still trying to decide about that as she took her bath. Morris had to be stopped, but just how she could do that without actually having him jailed or transported, she did not know. Such a judgment could be made only in the courts, where this whole situation would quickly end up the subject of public gossip and speculation, and she did not wish that either. Nevertheless, the constant court cases, and now this kidnapping of her child, were troubles that could not be allowed to continue.

“Maybe if he goes to a port, I will have a stroke of good fortune and he will fall into the water and drown,” she muttered and then felt guilty for wishing death on anyone, even someone like Morris.

She did not need more guilt. She already felt more than enough for not telling Sir Orion the truth about Morris when he asked how the man acted toward her. Catryn simply could not say what she thought and suspected. It not only sounded vain but it was embarrassing. Morris had never actually pushed himself on her, but she had quickly become suspicious that some of his growing anger toward Henry had been because Morris coveted his brother’s wife. Shortly after Henry died, Morris had been a little less discreet in his interest, shallow though she had known it to be, but she had soundly rebuffed him and he had then turned to the courts.

“Just thinking it sounds vain,” she said to herself and shook her head as she stood up and reached for a towel. “I should have told Sir Orion though, and let him decide.”

Standing before the fire to stay warm as she rubbed her hair dry, she thought about Sir Orion. He was too handsome for any woman’s peace of mind, but there was strength within him, a steadiness she had only ever sensed in her father. Despite his privileged position, his good looks and health, she knew without asking that he had known harshness in his life. And despite the fact that he had an illegitimate son, she could not shake the feeling that he was not actually some rake who bounced from woman to woman without any pause. He would understand, when she told him about what she thought Morris felt for her, that she was not just stroking her own vanity.

As she donned her night shift and crawled into bed, she tried to think of exactly how to tell Sir Orion that she thought Morris lusted after her. By the time the maid slipped in and removed the tub with the help of two other young women, Catryn still had no answer. Snuggling down beneath the covers, she decided it could wait. It was probably not important anyway. Morris had gone for her child, not for her, despite once asking her to marry him, and that was what they all had to concentrate on now.

 

 

“She is hiding something,” Giles said as he crawled into the bed.

Orion looked at the bed and inwardly sighed. He had been planning to spend the night sharing a bed not with his son but with a lush, eager woman. Being Lady Catryn’s gallant knight was costing him. He stripped to his drawers and climbed into the bed. Crossing his hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling and considered what Giles had said.

“Yes, I believe she is. Something was there, behind her blithe words when she answered my question about how Morris treated her.”

“Since she is a fair lass, I am thinking the man wanted under her skirts.”

Orion looked at his son. The boy was frowning as if he would punch Sir Morris de Warrenne in the nose if the man were within reach. Something about Lady Catryn had captivated his son. The boy was on this journey for more reasons than curiosity and the need to help some child. It could be that Giles was experiencing his first infatuation, even if the boy would never recognize it as such.

“True. Crudely spoken, but true,” said Orion.

“How are you supposed to say it?”

“That the man is intrigued by her, attracted to her, wants her for himself.”

“Oh. Well, he is. Does. It embarrasses her, so that is why she did not say so. Is it important though?”

“Oh yes. It is important. Morris may even have anticipated that she would chase him down if he took her son.”

Orion had to admit to himself that he would also like to punch Sir Morris de Warrenne for that. That intrigued him, for he had never before cared who else lusted after a woman he was interested in or even bedding. If she succumbed to any other seduction than his, he simply walked away. He did not share, but not for any deep emotional reason. Since he did not partake of any other woman’s favors while he was involved with a lover, he had always expected the very same courtesy. Yet, the idea that Sir Morris may have eyed Lady Catryn with lust annoyed him. More than annoyed him. He wanted to blacken both of the man’s eyes.

“So, he really does want everything his brother had, and taking the boy was part of a trap,” said Giles.

“It could be, yet I begin to wonder if Sir Morris could actually plan anything as clever as that.”

“Because he is like a spoiled child?”

“Exactly. He sounds like a man who has never been through the fire, shall we say. Easy childhood, got all he wanted when he wanted it, maybe did not get something he thought he needed, like the attention of his father or some such thing, and has never fully matured into a man.”

“Buys fancy, eye-stinging clothes and carriages and resents a little boy for getting what he had never earned anyway.”

Orion nodded. “Exactly right. And eye-stinging was a very good way of describing his taste.”

“Thank you.”

Turning his head, he shared a grin with his son but quickly grew serious again. “If we are right, and I believe we are, we may need to keep a close watch on her and our backs. As she told us, when Sir Morris wants something, he wants it now and does not take well to being denied. He could feel that she is not falling into his grasp fast enough and turn back to grab her.”

“Ha! Just let the bastard try.”

Orion had to bite back a laugh. He was continuously astounded by the spirit in his son. Despite what had happened to the boy, he still cared, even enjoyed life to its fullest. He laughed easily and played much as any other child would. One could almost forget that the boy had grown up on the dark, deadly streets of the city with little more care than that offered by his mates, who were not all that much older than he was, and the occasional kind-hearted or avaricious whore. His friends had taken him into their care, and that was why his family had more or less adopted the whole lot. They had more than proved their worth in what they had done for Giles.

“Go to sleep. We will need our rest, as I feel we will be spending a great deal of time rushing about the countryside.”

Giles murmured an affirmative and closed his eyes. The boy was asleep in no time at all, and Orion felt his heart clench with strong emotion. Giles could not show him any more clearly how safe he felt with him than by falling asleep so easily and sleeping so deeply. Having had little to do with Paul’s or Hector’s upbringing since they had been staying with his cousin Penelope since their own mothers had deserted them, Giles had not realized how easily a child could grab his heart and make it impossible to shake free. He knew it had nothing to do with Paul and Hector being luckier in how life had treated them, either. Once he had all three boys in his home at last, Orion suspected he would be having this trouble with his heart more often. Paul and Hector had just not had the chance to get a firm grip on it yet.

He turned his thoughts to Lady Catryn Gryffin de Warrenne. At the moment when he sensed she was hiding something, he had been annoyed; but the more he thought on it, the more he understood why she had said nothing. Unless Sir Morris had actually tried to seduce or molest her, all she had was her own impression of what the man might feel toward her. Without sufficient evidence, she might worry that she would sound vain or foolish if she spoke of Sir Morris wanting her.

It might be time to send word to some of his kinsmen. The added help in keeping an eye on her would be welcome, probably even wise, yet he still hesitated. Foolish it might be, but he suddenly wanted to do this himself. He could only hope that it did not prove to be a disastrous decision. Cursing softly, he finally admitted to himself that he wanted to be her hero. He had no idea where that urge came from as he had never felt the like before. All he could do was hope that the madness would pass quickly.

Her heart pounding with fear, Catryn stared up at the first light of dawn streaking across her ceiling. Something bad was coming. She recognized all too well the chill in her blood, the heavy sense of foreboding, and the sour bite of fear in her mouth. In a way that she could never explain well, she always knew when danger approached. Not just danger to herself, either, but sometimes she could sense it approaching others.

Her father had called it instinct and had been rather fascinated by it. He had questioned her extensively and even researched it as much as he was able. Her mother had always found it unsettling, strongly advising her to keep very quiet about it, stressing many times that it was a secret she must hold on to very tightly. Good or bad, it was something she had suffered from for a long time, and she never ignored it.

Scrambling out of bed, she yanked off her nightdress and put on her clothes. Catryn was not sure how she could warn Sir Orion without sounding like a madwoman, but she knew she had to try. She could not hesitate. Whatever was coming, her strange instincts were telling her that it was more than she could deal with alone. It could also reach out and touch Sir Orion, even young Giles, and that was not something she could allow to happen just because she feared a little mockery. Sir Orion and his son were only with her because they wanted to help, and she could not remain quiet about the shadows coming their way.

Creeping across the hall, she opened the door to the room Sir Orion and his son shared, as quietly as she could. Instead of entering a room where two people slept peacefully, unaware of any danger, she found herself facing a man with a pistol. She fleetingly wondered if Sir Orion had the same instincts she did as he pulled her into the room and shut the door. He was certainly well prepared to face a threat. A moment later he lit a lamp and she got a good look at him. Her mind emptied of all rational thought.

Sir Orion stood before her wearing only his drawers and an undone fine linen shirt tossed over his broad shoulders. Catryn stared at his chest, a smooth expanse of taut muscle decorated with a modest triangle of black hair. She had seen a man’s naked chest before, as Gryffin Manor was a working farm, and she had even caught a glimpse of her husband’s once, but the sight had never left her so breathless and warm. Nor had she ever thought it a beautiful sight, but Sir Orion’s chest made her palms itch to touch that faintly golden skin stretched so taut over lean, well-defined muscle. She had to clench her hands into tight fists to resist the urge to reach out and smooth them over all that warm skin.

Despite her efforts not to, she glanced down at his legs, his calves, and his bare feet. Even there the man could rouse any woman’s hearty approval. He would need no padding to enhance those well-shaped muscular calves. She nearly shook her head in amazement for his feet were also a pleasant sight, being long and narrow. It seemed ridiculous to her that she would admire a man’s feet, yet she could actually see herself enjoying the massaging of them after he was home from a long day. Perhaps even extending that tender administration to his strong calves, she mused, and then quickly banished such thoughts.

Pushing aside her fascination, she said, “Something bad is coming.” Silently she cursed and decided the sight of him had certainly disordered her mind, for it was a ridiculous thing to say.

“Bad how?” he asked, hiding his amusement over the way she had nearly gaped at the sight of him and then looked annoyed at him for sparking the interest he had briefly glimpsed in her eyes. “Bad for us?”

It struck her as odd that he was so calmly accepting her statement, but forced her thoughts to remain fixed upon the warning she had come to give him and what they must do next. “It may sound mad, but I have always known when danger is close, and I woke suddenly with all of my alarms clanging. I do not have any idea what is coming, what the exact danger is, but it
is
coming and it is coming for us. I think we need to leave here now.”

“No more than that? No hint of a vision of armed men, or Morris?”

“You need not make jest of me. I am quite serious.” She was surprised at how deeply it hurt to have this man mock her.

“Oh, I do not jest. I but wished to be certain you were not holding secret any more information because you feared I would mock how you said you came by it. You did not get this sense of danger when your son was taken?”

It was a shock to discover that he was not teasing her but actually heeding what she said. “No. I do not understand why, except to think that perhaps he was not, at that time, in any real danger. What Morris was going to do would be wrong and mightily troublesome but not dangerous. True, he hurt my father, but not as seriously as I had feared, so even that might not have been enough to make me sense a true danger.”

“True. Get your things and bring them in here. I will await whatever is coming in your bedchamber. I suspect you are the one they are after.”

She was entering her room before she really thought about what he had just said. The man had believed her warning with no hesitation, no doubt, and that still shocked yet warmed her. Even stranger, he had inquired whether or not she had also had some kind of vision. No one had ever done that before, aside from her father, and even he had ceased doing so when he saw how it upset her mother. Her warnings had only ever invoked doubt and fear in everyone else. That was why she had found it so easy to follow her mother’s advice to remain silent about them.

That had not always been easy advice to follow, either. The greater the danger, the stronger that unsettling sense of doom. At times she had withheld her words of caution, resulting in harm to a person she could have warned, and she had always been left feeling intensely guilty. Her mother’s assurances that the person would never have heeded her warnings anyway had done little to ease that guilt.

Catryn intended to ask Sir Orion why he had accepted her warning so blithely when she returned to his room after gathering all her things, but he was already dressed and checking his pistols. “You mean to face whatever is coming all on your own?”

“No,” he replied. “While we waited for you in the private parlor last evening, I had a quick word with the innkeeper. I believed it might be wise to know if there was someone close at hand whom we could call on if we needed assistance. He said he had a man or two ready to help if needed, for a small fee. Giles has already gone down and said we have need of them, paid the fee, and come back.”

“I should be paying for such things.”

“I will make certain to keep a tally.”

She ignored the sarcasm that dripped from his every word. “How will you explain how it is you know you have need of those men?”

“Simple,” he said as he started out the door. “I will tell them you are a witch.”

The door shut behind him on the last word of that outrageous statement. Catryn was tempted to run after him and hit him over the head with something heavy. These forebodings she suffered from were not something to make jests about. It was wonderful that he actually listened to her, but she would not tolerate him teasing her about it. When he returned she would also tell him how important it was to keep silent about her odd gift, just as she had done for most of her life. She had to make him understand how dangerous it could be for her if people became aware of how different she was.

Then she thought on how he was walking into danger, and nearly ran out to drag him back. She looked at Giles, who was sprawled on the bed calmly eating an apple. The boy did not seem very concerned about his father. She did not think it was because Giles had no understanding of what danger his father could be facing, because the boy had had a hard enough life to understand such things better than she might. Yet, he could also be suffering from a boy’s absolute confidence in his father, even if it was not warranted. Sir Orion certainly looked fit, but he was a gentleman born and raised, not a man who lived a very hard life fighting for every scrap of food or a few coins to pay for his lodging. Having recalled a little of the gossip she had heard about the Wherlockes, she knew he did not live in some hovel near the stench of the river but in a fine town house in an area that was rapidly becoming fashionable, even though it was rumored to be inhabited mostly by Wherlockes and Vaughns.

“He does not even know what he might be facing,” she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

“He is a king’s man, m’lady. He knows what he is about.”

“What do you mean by a king’s man? What does he do for the king?”

Giles frowned. “I am not sure, but it is something important. Men come to visit and there is a lot of talking softly behind closed doors. That is always a sure sign that something important and secretive is about. At times he is gone for a few days and not because he found himself a woman, either. Though he does like the women and they like him. Cody said I was not to speak of it for it was important, secret things done for king and country. I think he finds things or people for the king or hunts bad people who need a quick hanging.”

“And that is why he is so very certain he can find Morris and my son?”

“Aye.” Giles threw his apple core into the fireplace. “That is what he does. That is his gift.”

“I am not certain Morris is leaving us very much of a trail to follow.”

“He is driving a fine blue carriage pulled by four speckled gray mares.”

“Ah, true enough. That is certainly something people notice. I am so accustomed to the sight of it that I sometimes forget how it stands out even in the crowded streets of London.” She nodded. “I discovered all anew how it catches the eye when I was chasing him. Everyone he passed noticed it and not always in a flattering way.”

“And do not forget that my father found us easily enough.”

That was a truth she could not argue with. Catryn sighed and settled her pistol on her lap. Since she was facing the door to the room, she would not have to worry about being caught by surprise. A glance over her shoulder at Giles revealed that the boy was keeping a close eye on the window even though it was rather small for any man to get through. Although it made her sad to think on why Giles would know how to be on guard for any danger, at the moment she was heartily glad of his skills, for it meant she did not have to worry about constantly watching out for him. Giles might be only eight, but he had survived all of those eight years living on the harsh streets of an unforgiving city. He had told her himself that he was very good at running and hiding. Now all she had to do was guard the door and hope that Sir Orion did not suffer any severe injuries during his kind attempt to help her.

Then something he had said blazed across her mind. He had said he wanted to be sure she was not keeping secret any more information just because she feared he would mock her. There was only one thing she had not told him, and for that very reason. Somehow she had given herself away and he knew she had not told him about how Morris might be lusting after her.

She inwardly cursed. That was not a conversation she wanted to have yet knew it was coming. If he had figured it out then he would demand some answers. A part of her wanted to tell him it was none of his business, but she knew that was wrong. It was his business. He was helping her find her son and deal with the idiot who had kidnapped him. He had a right to know everything about Morris, even if it was something that would embarrass her.

Sighing, she shook all concern about that out of her head. There was trouble headed their way and now was not the time to fret over what she had or had not told Orion or what he would ask her when he returned. And he would return, she thought, her body tensing with resolve. Catryn would not have it any other way. Nor would she allow anyone to come in and threaten Giles. That was all she had to keep her mind on now. Everything else could wait until the threat to them all was gone.

 

 

Orion nodded to the two men with him and they each moved to the sides of the door while he went and sat on the bed. The sound of men coming up the stairway was easy to hear. If he had not caught sight through the window of the two ruffians slipping inside the inn, he would have thought they were guests. The men Morris had hired had absolutely no gift of stealth. Obviously, Sir Morris was not paying well enough to get truly skilled thugs.

He hoped the innkeeper had not suffered any harm. Orion had told the man to give the men the information they requested, reluctantly but not too reluctantly. Since he was prepared for these men there was no reason for the innkeeper to guard a guest too avidly and suffer a hard beating for it.

For a moment he wondered if he was wrong to think Morris was behind this, but he inwardly shook his head. If this was an attack by enemies he had made, those people would never have hired such incompetent men. Orion knew, despite a lack of any proof, that this was an attempt by Morris to get his hands on Lady Catryn. She may have neglected to tell him about the man’s interest in her, but he had planned with it in mind, so this attack came as no real surprise.

The footsteps stopped just outside the door and, to Orion’s disgust, one of the men spoke with no attempt to keep his voice low. “Are ye sure it be this room?” he asked his companion.

A quick glance at his compatriots showed both men shaking their heads in disbelief at the idiocy of the men they were about to take down. He reminded himself that without Lady Catryn’s warning, even these fools could have been a threat. He would have been back in his bed after relieving himself and possibly half-asleep, a state that slowed down any man’s reactions. Lady Catryn would have been asleep in her own bed and helpless. His anger at Morris grew sharper as he thought on that.

“This is the one that fool downstairs told us to go to,” answered the other.

“Hope she be no screamer. I hate screaming.”

That the man would even mention such a thing told Orion that he had knowledge of how a terrified woman might act. He was sorry he would probably not have a chance to beat the fool. The man would not get his hands on Lady Catryn, but he deserved a beating for whatever he had done to know that he hated a woman’s screams. A man using his greater strength and bulk against a woman was something he had never been able to tolerate. It had happened occasionally while working for the king, as spies and criminals came in all sizes, shapes, and were of both sexes, but those women were usually trying to kill someone.