Patrica Rice (14 page)

Daphne wondered what the second letter said that had caused such haste when the first had not, but she daren’t interrupt for fear he would suddenly close up on her again. Daringly, she rested her hand on the arm lying limply across his lap. She shouldn’t have underestimated his strength despite his injury. He instantly turned his arm to grasp her hand.

“I didn’t arrive until mid-February. I had notified no one of my arrival. It seemed the wisest course given the contents of Gordon’s letter.” He hesitated, watching Daphne’s alert face with curiosity. “I really have no business telling you any of this. It’s not a fair reflection on our family.”

“I have met you and Gordon and Melanie, and I think I’m a fair judge of human nature. I’ll not believe ill of you, and I’ll not reveal your secrets without your permission.”

He already knew the truth of that. He would not be lying here still were she one to tell all she knew. Resting easier, Evan resolved to tell her the whole miserable tale.

“Gordon’s letter said there was some question as to whether my father’s death was accidental. It had been assumed that he had taken a fall in a freak jumping accident, but later events called for further inquiries. The saddle had already been mended, but the groom who replaced the girth straps agreed they might have been deliberately damaged. The saddle’s slipping could have caused my father’s fall.”

Daphne’s fingers curled tighter about Evan’s as she stared at him in shock and disbelief. Things like that just didn’t happen except in the worst sort of novels. The strap had undoubtedly been flawed, but what did any of this have to do with Evan’s sleeping in the woods?

“What were the events that made Gordon go back and look at the saddle?” she asked cautiously, not wanting to voice her doubts just yet.

Evan sighed and tried to arrange his aching shoulder more comfortably against the wall. Daphne moved as if to help him, but he kept a firm hold of her hand. “He found his own saddle cut, a stray shot while hunting nearly took his life, the axle of his phaeton came loose—a number of suspicious accidents occurred. Gordon isn’t given to flights of fancy, as you can imagine, but he was quite certain someone meant to kill him.”

Daphne drew in a breath at the certainty in his tone. That wasn’t really possible. People didn’t do that in this day and age. This was positively medieval. “Why?” she asked. “Why would anyone suddenly decide to do away with your family? You said yourself there were none other interested in the estates but Gordon.”

“They might not be interested in the responsibilities entailed by the estates, but in the money they represent. Haven’t I said enough to show you there is danger here? Will you take Melanie and leave now? Dream up an excursion to Bath or to visit relatives in the north or anything but linger here. I have my hands full looking after Gordon. I cannot watch more of you.”

Daphne was still working her way through the pieces of the puzzle. “When you came home they shot at you too? Is that why your horse went into the river?”

“Yes,” Evan said curtly. “Only I daresay they thought I was Gordon. I was supposed to be dead on the Continent since no one had heard from me.”

“So you couldn’t go home or the murderer would have two of you to kill. That’s gruesome. I cannot imagine it. Does your grandfather know of this?”

Impatiently, he replied,
“My grandfather is not well. We’ll not add to his worries. Obviously, whoever is behind this thinks Grandfather will not live long, and there might be a mad scramble for the inheritance after he dies. Gordon could rush out and marry, or I might have left a wife and child on the Continent, or some such flummery. Twisted minds might think like that. But if we’re out of the way
before
he dies, then the title goes back to my great-grandfather’s next direct descendant. I’ve told you more than enough. Daphne, it is time you promised to leave.”

“Why should I be in any danger? I am not related to any of you. I can see that Melanie might be harmed in any incident that involved Gordon since the two of them will undoubtedly be much together, but I should think I would be able to help you without anyone suspecting otherwise.”

Thoroughly exasperated, Evan tugged on her hand and brought her to sit closer, where she could not avoid his eyes.

“Daphne, you cannot be so maggot-brained as that. If even I have seen you and Gordon together, surely you must realize that the entire area is aware of your attachment. This is the worst possible time for Gordon to settle on a suitable wife. It will make our killer frantic to be rid of both of you before there is still another heir to stand in his way.”

Daphne stared at him in disbelief. “You are quite mad, Evan Griffin. There is nothing between us. How can you conceive of such a fanciful notion?”

Evan grimaced as he studied her lovely face framed by a cap of silken brown curls. There didn’t seem to be a duplicitous thought in her head, but females always knew these things. She couldn’t be totally blind. “I saw him kiss you, Daphne. If he didn’t declare himself then, he certainly should have. It is only this confounded masquerade that prevents him from doing so, I’m certain.”

“That is absurd.” Daphne tugged to free her hand and rise from his dangerous proximity. His grip was stronger than she expected. “It is just the mildest sort of flirtation that you have seen. I am certain Gordon is quite bored out here, and he looks for a little amusement. I am old enough that he need not be worried that I’ll take offense or that he will engage my affection. Anyone can see that it would be quite absurd for him to fix his interest on a female who rumor has it has not the wits or sense to see if her gown is buttoned correctly.”

That startling statement brought Evan’s fascinated gaze in the direction of her bodice, but the pelisse adequately disguised any errors in fastening. Mischief combined with desire as his hand slid from Daphne’s cheek to wrap around her waist. It was not fever that smoldered in his eyes as he drew her closer.

“Just a flirtation?” he murmured deep in his throat as her wide-eyed gaze came closer. “Perhaps I have forgotten how to flirt. Refresh my memory.”

She could not tear away. It wasn’t just that his hold was strong as he pulled her forward, but a fascination with the sight and sound and smell of him that she could not resist. Beneath the linen of his shirt, his chest was warm and hard where she braced herself against him. His cheeks smelled of whatever soap he had used for shaving that morning, and his hair held the fresh scent of rain as she leaned forward to touch her lips to his.

She could not protest that he forced her. She was a willing victim. She wanted the sensation of his lips on hers, craved the closeness of his kiss, needed the searing surrender of being taken in his arms. What she hadn’t expected was this, the savage passion of a hungry man, the flood of desire and heat that swept between them so completely that she could only bend to his will as Evan crushed her against him and parted her lips.

Daphne’s head swam with the discovery of his possession. She could not brace herself above him anymore but fell before his persuasive grip, curling against his chest and giving herself up to his hungry demands. A kiss should never be like this, some disconnected part of her brain warned, but she could not respond to the warning while she could feel the pounding of his heart beneath her hands and the fire of his mouth on hers. Her hand slid to his neck, and she parted her lips willingly.

It was only when Evan used his injured arm to begin searching the enveloping folds of her pelisse that Daphne realized how far she had gone. With dazed shock, she pushed away, searching the familiar angles of his face for some clue as to his intentions. He let her go without protest, and she could read nothing into his silence.

“That is not how a gentleman treats a lady,” she murmured, sitting up and trying to adjust her dignity.

“That is how a man treats a woman,” he said without an ounce of regret as he watched her flushed face and nervous gestures. He had nothing to offer her. At that moment, he was a wanted criminal with soldiers seeking him. At best, he had no title and a small trust to support him now that he had resigned his military career.

She belonged with Gordon, but she seemed to be singularly blind to her attractiveness. What was that comment about her wits? Perhaps now she would realize what a man’s kiss meant. Pity Gordon was too damned polite to teach her.

Daphne backed out of reach of his dangerous arms. The fatalistic tone of Evan’s voice warned that he could be expected to treat her so again if she did not stay away. Yet how could she stay away? Her mouth burned where his had touched her, and her body seemed to tingle with unexplored sensations.

She was in sad danger to linger in his company. Her reputation would be damaged for all time should word of her presence here get about. But she could not find it in her to leave.

“A very simple lesson, thank you,” she replied acerbically. “I shall remember it in the future, but it does not change the present. I am no more likely to marry Viscount Griffin than his Robin Hood brother. I am destined to be a spinster, so leave me to enjoy my few pleasures while I can. And I can assure you, they are not to be found in London.”

Evan ran his hand through his rumpled hair and glared at her. “You promised to leave when I told you our reasons.”

“I did no such thing. I only said I would consider it. Besides, it seems to me you have left out the most important part. Whom do you suspect to be the guilty party and how do you intend to stop him?”

Chapter Eleven

“Daphne, had I full use of both hands, I would wring your neck.’’ Evan reached for the pot of broth as the only available substitute for placing his hands on her delectable throat.

“I see his mood hasn’t changed for the better.” Rhys stomped cheerfully through the bushes like some modern-day Red Riding Hood, carrying Daphne’s basket on his arm, now nearly empty of its contents. “You’re supposed to sweeten his disposition, my lady, not sour it.”

“One can sweeten lemonade, but not bad apples,” she retorted. “I don’t suppose you would care to explain how he means to help his brother by skulking in the woods and courting pneumonia?”

“Certainly. He doesn’t believe his uncle will do the dirty deed himself but will hire someone. He rather thought to set himself up as evil representative for hire. Any other questions?”

Rhys had lost any trace of his uneducated accent and respectful behavior. Daphne stared at him in as much perplexity as dismay. The plan he recited sounded far-fetched to her, but she could not think of a better one. She turned to Evan to see if he would offer further explanation.

“Uncle? So you know who it is?”

“I didn’t say that. Mackle-mouth did. Now it’s time you left. Your aunt will be looking for you, and your suitors will be camped at your door.”

His sarcasm fell on deaf ears. Now that she had almost reached the root of the plot, Daphne began to feel the excitement of the chase. No one had ever let her become involved in anything more complex than charades. She had always been left out of the planning and doing. Now she was almost as much a part of the plot as everyone else, and she refused to be cast aside like a helpless infant.

She had already gone over the circle of her London acquaintance trying to place the name of Griffin to anyone she might know. It was not that common a name. She was quite certain she had never been introduced to either of the twins or Melanie, but she did remember her brother mentioning an acquaintance of his with that name.

She thought the man was considerably older than her brother, and since Michael was so much older than she, Daphne had dismissed him from her mind. But if it were an uncle whom Evan sought ... Something of the older Griffin’s reputation came back to her, and she threw his name out just for a reaction.

“Is Robert Griffin one of your relatives?” she inquired innocently without rising as ordered.

Evan’s face went blank, and Rhys whistled a single note behind her. Daphne felt satisfaction as she sensed the sudden tension around her.

“How do you know Robert?” Evan demanded harshly.

“He’s an acquaintance of my brother’s. They belong to the same club, I believe, though Michael isn’t in London much anymore. I take it he is one of your relatives, then? Michael is a good deal older than I am, and this Robert is older than he. I’d judge him at about forty or so, old enough to be an uncle, I should think.”

Evan ran his hand over his face. “I had forgotten how small a circle the
ton
is. Should I know your brother? I didn’t even know you had one.”

“He is not of the Corinthian set. We’re of very modest means, after all, but he went to Oxford. I daresay you were at different levels, though. Michael is some years older than you.”

“I am rapidly catching up with him, though.’’ Evan stifled a moan and shifted his shoulder. He refused to think about this connection. His only goal right now was to get Daphne out of here. It was becoming obvious that that wouldn’t be an easy task.

Rhys didn’t have the same compunctions. He gazed on Daphne with a delighted smile and handed Evan a roll to keep him quiet. “So your brother knows Robert? How very interesting. We need to draw the cad out; prove his intentions, but he hasn’t been on speaking terms with the rest of the family since the earl refused to pay any more of his debts. He couldn’t show his face around here without rousing suspicion.”

He drifted into thought which Evan rudely interrupted. “Whatever you’re thinking, Llewellyn, don’t. I’ll not have Daphne involved any more than she is.
Get her out of here, preferably to the other end of the country.”

Rhys beamed. “And if I could do both?”

“You’d be a magician. What do you mean, ‘both’?” Evan crumbled his roll and watched his friend with suspicion.

“Bring Robert out of the woodwork and get Daphne out of here. Wouldn’t that work?”

“What would work?” Easing her aching knee, Daphne sat herself more comfortably on Evan’s blanket and watched Rhys with doubt. She didn’t want to be sent away, but if it would help resolve this mystery, she was willing to listen.