Lovers Forever (35 page)

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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

BOOK: Lovers Forever
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“
Attacked
you!” Tess exclaimed, the roses in her cheeks fading. Her eyes traveled among the three men and, a frown forming on her forehead, finally locked on Nicolas's face. “Who even knew that they were staying there? And why attack Alexander?”
Nick met her gaze squarely. Bluntly he said, “It would appear that the man who tried to kill you on Saturday came back to try again....”
Chapter Twenty
T
ess stared at Nick's dark face, her eyes dilating with fear as his words sank in. “But why?” she demanded in a shaky tone. Slowly she sat on the black leather chair Rockwell had vacated upon her entrance into the room. “Why?”
Even as she asked the question, Nick realized the answer and cursed his thick head. “Jesus! What a fool I've been!” As the others looked at him in astonishment, he said grimly, “There's only one answer to these attacks—the smugglers! The owlers who have been using the cottage—”
“Of course!” Tess broke in eagerly. “It could be no one else.”
Nick nodded and sent her a rueful glance. “I know you'll find it hard to believe, sweetheart, but I
did
consider that possibility the day you were attacked—I even discussed it briefly with your uncles, but I'm afraid that of late”—he gave her a crooked smile—“my mind has been on a certain saucy red-haired miss!”
Tess smiled faintly, pleased by his words and grateful for the light note. But, her eyes fixed intently on Nicolas's face, she said quietly, “Tell me what happened this morning.”
Nick sighed and rose. Leaning against his desk and staring pensively at his glossy black boots, he said, “According to Alexander, something, he doesn't know what, woke him just before dawn. He lay there in your bed, listening, wondering at first if the noise he'd heard had been the smugglers moving about the cellars. He heard nothing else for several more minutes. Then, deciding that he must have been wrong, he was on the point of drifting back to sleep when he suddenly realized that the door to his room had been opened and that someone was creeping toward him. He waited, not wanting to frighten them off, and the next thing he knew, he sensed rather than actually saw a figure near the bed.”
“It was the knife,” Alexander blurted out, “that made me realize I was in mortal danger. It came slashing down near my shoulder—it nicked me, but didn't cause any real damage. I think the fellow was aiming for my heart, but in the darkness he miscalculated his mark.” Alexander swallowed. “If I'd been asleep, he no doubt would have managed the task. As it was, I immediately sprang up and we grappled and fought.” A little lopsided smile crossed Alexander's battered features. “You wouldn't know it by looking at me, but I gave a very good account of myself. Managed to get in several telling blows, but the fellow fought like a madman. We knocked over tables and sent chairs flying. I managed to get the knife away from him early on, and in the darkness neither one of us could find it, so it turned into a brawl. By this time, Rockwell had awakened from the noise we were making. Upon hearing his approach, the fellow managed to strike a tremendous blow to my head and kicked my legs out from underneath me. By that time we were in the hallway, and as Rockwell came up, I caught barely a glimpse of the man as he bolted down the stairs and disappeared.”
Disgust evident in his tones, Rockwell took up the story. “We immediately woke the entire house and did a thorough search, but we found nothing, except for a side door standing open....”
Almost shamefacedly Alexander said, “I'm sorry, Tess, but I couldn't hang on to the slippery devil—he twisted and squirmed and always managed to break my hold—and I'm not a weakling!”
“Oh, no, you're certainly not!” Tess exclaimed with a warm glow in her eyes. “You're strong and brave, and I'm sure that you did everything within your power to capture him.”
There was silence in the room for a few minutes. Then, looking at Alexander, Tess asked hopefully, “Was there anything about him that you recognized? I know it was dark, but during your fight, did you gain any impressions? Something that might help us identify him?”
Alexander shrugged. “He didn't announce his name, if that's what you're hoping. He was strong and fairly tall and broad. In the fleeting look I got in the light from Rockwell's candle, as the scoundrel leaped down the stairs, I'd say that he was garbed as a gentleman.”
Tess caught her breath. Looking at Nick, she said tightly, “The description sounds very like the one Rose gave of my attacker on Saturday.”
Nick nodded. “If we're right that the gang of owlers using the cottage are behind these attacks, then I think we can safely assume it's the same man.”
Tess swallowed painfully. “He does seem rather . . .
tenacious
, doesn't he?”
Nick nodded again, wishing savagely that there was some way to keep her from this ugly knowledge.
At his nod, Tess smiled lamely. “And to think that there was a time I thought I lived a very boring, conventional life—and chafed against its very ordinariness....” She sighed. “An ordinariness that I'd give anything to know again.”
With a twinkle in his eyes, Nick caught her hand in his. Dropping a kiss on it, he said, “Knowing your wishes, madame, I shall try to be a very
ordinary
husband!”
Alexander and Rockwell guffawed, and even Tess chuckled.
“I don't believe,” she said tartly, “that you could be ordinary if you tried.”
“Thank you—I think.” His features growing serious, Nick returned to the subject at hand. Sitting around Nick's desk, the four of them discussed the situation at length, the certainty that the smugglers were behind the attack becoming firmer with every passing moment.
Their speculations were soon interrupted by a gentle rap on the door. Nick quickly crossed the room and opened the door.
Hetty's voice came clearly to the others as she said to Nick, “I'm sorry to disturb you, my lord, but my dresser—a friendly and voluble young woman—mentioned that the baron and his brother had arrived here early this morning—before you had arisen.... We apologize, after all you have done for us, for appearing to pry into your private affairs, but in view of the unusual situation that presently exists, Meg and I were wondering if there was some pressing reason for their arrival at the, er, ‘crack of dawn,' I believe the young woman said.”
While Nick sought for a way to deflect the two ladies, Tess said quietly from behind him, “They should know. They're as much involved as anyone”
Nick sighed and stepped aside, ushering the ladies into the room. He had barely shut the door behind them when Hetty cried out in great distress, “Oh,
Alexander
! Dear heart, what has happened to you! Your poor face!”
Oblivious of anything else, Alexander rose and met Hetty halfway across the room. He took her hands in his and pressed an urgent kiss against her soft palms. “Now don't get in a snit,” he muttered. “It ain't anything serious. Just a little dustup with a prowler.”
Her trembling fingers touched his bruised face, the depth of her emotions plain to see on her lovely face. “Never tell me that a
common
prowler,” she said, her eyes searching his, “did this to you?”
Tess's mouth nearly fell open at the blatant tenderness between them, the way their bodies were nearly touching as they stood there together. Almost idly she noted the pleased expression on Rockwell's face and the satisfied smile on Meg's lips. When had this happened? she wondered. Alexander and
Hetty
?
As if becoming aware of the fascinated stares of the other occupants, Hetty blushed and stepped quickly away from Alexander. With a spot of color burning high on his cheekbones, Alexander said gruffly, “Yes. A prowler.” Grabbing a nearby chair, he offered it to Meg. “Miss Mandeville, won't you please sit down?”
While Rockwell saw to a chair for Hetty, Meg took the seat offered by Alexander. More chairs for the two gentlemen were drawn up, and in a few minutes it was as if the scene between Hetty and Alexander had never taken place.
The conversation began immediately with the recital of the facts surrounding the first attack on Tess and finished with the latest events at the cottage. There were expressions and exclamations of horror, but overcoming their natural trepidation, the aunts were determined to help in any way that they could. When the use of the cottage by the owlers and the strong suspicion that the smugglers were behind all the attacks were explained, Hetty and Meg readily agreed.
Bellingham arrived just then in answer to Nick's summons on the bell rope, and soon they were all refreshing themselves from the tray of hot coffee and small cakes and biscuits that were served.
When Bellingham had departed, the topic of the attacks and the smugglers raged once more. With a thoughtful look on his face, Nick set down his cup and said, “It would seem that Tess was never the real object of the owlers
—anyone
staying at the cottage would have elicited the same reaction. I suspect that our attacker didn't even realize Tess was no longer staying there, and I imagine he was as stunned as Alexander by what transpired. I'm sure that he had a nasty shock when he discovered a brawny male in that bed instead of a slim, defenseless woman.”
There was more discussion, a lighter air having entered the room with the collective feeling that they had hit upon not only the reasons for the attacks, but also the perpetrators.
“But what are we going to do about the cottage? And the smugglers?” Tess asked eventually.
“I think,” Nick began slowly, “that we'll do precisely what they want us to—abandon the cottage.”
“You're going to let them win?” Alexander asked incredulously, his eyes blazing.
Nick smiled. “No. Not win. But allow them to
think
that they have won....”
Alexander stared hard at Nick for several moments, and then, as enlightenment dawned, he grinned. “What a jolly good idea! They'll think they've beaten us and start using the cottage again, and when they least expect it, we'll snaffle them!”
“Precisely! In the meantime, I'll have the staff remove themselves and their belongings from the cottage and close up the place, as if it were no longer going to be used—dust covers on the furniture, shutters latched, and so forth. You two will, of course, stay here at the court.” Nick paused and, looking at the two men, added softly, “But before we totally retreat from the field, I want to take a better look at those cellars. It may be highly dangerous, and I have no idea what we may find or run into—are you with me?”
“Absolutely,” vowed Alexander, his face flushed with enthusiasm. “It'll be like the old army days, won't it?”
“Count me in,” the baron averred. “I'd like to teach these bloody basta—” Remembering the ladies, he coughed and muttered, “Er, rascals a lesson!”
“And what about us?” Tess asked with asperity. “Are we to sit calmly here at the court, drinking tea, while you gentlemen go riding off to risk life and limb? Having
all
the adventures?”
“Well, I had hoped,” Nick began warily, not liking the militant sparkle in her violet eyes, “that you would agree to do just that.”
Tess opened her mouth to disabuse him of that notion, but before she could speak, Aunt Meg said gently, “You know, my dear, I believe that your husband's idea, while unpalatable to a spirited young lady like yourself, is really very sound.” And as Tess's mouth shut with an audible snap, she added, “If there was to be danger, perhaps a surprise attack by the smugglers, his first instinct would be to keep you safe—and that might put him in grave jeopardy. Just think how you would feel if he came to harm simply because you insisted upon accompanying him this afternoon.” Not meeting Tess's fulminating glare, she folded her hands primly in her lap and said, “A much better solution would be to see the cellars once the gentlemen have ascertained that they are safe....” She paused, smiled kindly at her great-niece, and murmured, “I know that I shall certainly look forward to being shown this smuggler's haunt in the very near future.”
Nick could have kissed Meg's wrinkled cheek, but he wisely withheld his enthusiasm for her suggestion. Cocking an eyebrow, he glanced at his wife. “Well?” he asked.
Tess threw him a dark look, her reluctance to abandon her earlier stance clear. Then she sighed and grimaced, admitting reluctantly, “Aunt Meg is right. I wouldn't want you getting hurt because of me.” She shook a finger at his grinning features. “But don't think that you've heard the end of this—you
will
take us exploring in those cellars! And not six months from now, either!”

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