Thornbrook Park (16 page)

“It is a glorious arrangement. Miss Puss likes them very much. In fact, she's trying to take a bite out them but her mouth keeps passing right through the petals. Poor dear.” Agatha laughed at the sight apparent only to her, but they all squinted as if trying to catch Miss Puss in action.

“Naughty dear. Stay away from my flowers, Miss Puss.” Alice shooed the air around the vase.

“Can I get you some more tea, Captain?” Alice asked.

Things seemed to be progressing well for Alice and Marcus. Alice seemed surprisingly receptive to the attention, and Marcus had seemed happily engaged in conversation when they'd arrived. As it should be. Eve suddenly felt like an intruder. She had to go. Immediately. “If you'll all excuse me, I'm going to continue with my walk. I've been meaning to have a look at the shops in town.”

“Oh, now, no need for us to rush off.” Sophia probably thought her presence was needed to sow the seeds of romance. “Let's visit a little longer. One more cup.”

“You stay. I need a new hat. We can meet up in town. Thank you for tea, Lady Alice.” She hurried off before anyone could stop her. She walked in quick steps until she passed the hedges that lined the street along the edge of the property. Leaning against the front gate, she took a minute to catch her breath before continuing on.

***

Marcus had felt vaguely unsettled since Eve had run off. Was it something he said? Or perhaps it was as awkward for her to watch him try to flirt with Alice as it was for him to court another woman with Eve in the room. He stifled the urge to go after her.
She
can
buy
her
own
hats
. He smiled at the recollection from their conversation in the rain.

“How is Mrs. Dennehy?” Sophia asked, calling him back to the present. “Did you and Gabriel find her well?”

“Very well.” Too well, perhaps, for an older woman on her own. “She had no complaints, though the farm could use some attention—a few coats of paint for the house, stain for the barn, and some repairs. She's happy to put Brandon to work in exchange for room and board and a salary, a meager one but more than sufficient for a young man in his position. I'll be bringing him there tomorrow and then dropping in from time to time to check on him, of course, at least until he's settled.” The one person he had wanted to tell of his success had run off before he'd had a chance.

“That would be one less burden for Gabriel. I hope he appreciates your enthusiasm. Alice, have you seen the farm? I know you would adore the lambs, such darlings.” Sophia not so subtly dropped the hint that he could bring Alice along.

“The lambs are all grown, but they add to the bucolic setting. Perhaps you would take a ride out with me and have a look, Alice.” Marcus offered the invitation.

“If we can go on horseback. I haven't ridden in the longest time.”

“You enjoy riding?” He sipped his tea for something to do with his hands. Eve's leaving had made him want to run right after her, but he couldn't be obvious about it.

“I do.”

“She's quite the horsewoman.” Sophia was all too eager to list her sister's accomplishments.

“Thornbrook Park has fine stables and plenty of land for riding. I can show you some of the paths I enjoyed growing up. I've spent enough time in the saddle today, I'm afraid. In fact, I should be getting back to prepare Brandon for his new adventures and perhaps fit in a rest before dinner.” He rose. “Thank you for the tea.”

“Thank you again for the flowers.” Alice got up to see him out.

In hope of catching up to Eve, he set off toward Mrs. Carrigan's shop, the very place to buy a hat.

“Good day, Mrs. Carrigan.” He entered, looked around, and was discouraged to find no sign of Eve. “I'm looking for a woman.”

“I'm sorry, Captain Thorne,” Mrs. Carrigan said with a slight smile. “You might have come to the wrong place. The tavern is still on the other side of town. But it's good to see you home again.”

“Thank you, but I think she was headed here. She's about so tall.” He held his hand up to the middle of his chest. “Blond, with the most radiant blue eyes.”

“Mrs. Kendal.” She nodded. “I just sold her a hat, nearly gave it away. She drove a hard bargain, but she's already gone off with her prize.”

Relief gave way to panic once again. “Did she say where she intended to go next?”

“Perhaps back to Thornbrook Park. I wouldn't know.”

In his haste to leave, he nearly knocked over a stand bearing a hat decorated with six taxidermied parakeets around the rim. He shuddered and hoped Eve hadn't chosen the likes of it. Back in the street, he looked right and left, desperate for any sign of her. Once he rounded the corner, he caught sight of her in the distance, in her dark coat and what was probably the new broad-brimmed hat. She walking briskly, dangling a hatbox from her arm.

“Eve!” He called out, but she was too far off to hear. He picked up his pace.

He was about to call out to her again when he saw a man emerge from the hedgerow along the walkway behind her. The man in the black bowler hat stepped out and fell into pace with Eve, closing the distance between them, his hand raised. Was that a glint of metal? A knife?

“Eve!” He hollered for her, his blood running cold through his veins. “Eve!”

He ran as fast as he could, but he feared he wouldn't make it in time. By some miracle, he managed to gain ground and reach out for the man just in time, before he made it to his prey.

Something, perhaps the knife, flew from the man's outstretched hand and into the bushes as Marcus took him by surprise and jerked him around.

“I've got you now, bloody bastard.” He landed a left jab, followed by a right hook, before they tumbled together, Marcus landing atop him and pinning the man to the ground. “What do you want with Mrs. Kendal?”

Her spirits restored by an invigorating bout of haggling with the shopkeeper, Eve wore her new hat with some degree of pride that she'd obtained it for such a small price. Prama, her maid in India, had coached her on making deals in the marketplace, and she had learned her lessons well. On her way back to the Dower House, she debated if she should boast to Sophia about her bargain or simply let her friends admire her purchase. She was nearly there when a commotion started behind her and she turned to see Marcus wrestling a man to the ground.

“Captain Thorne?” The sight of them fighting astounded her, but her gaze was instantly drawn to the black bowler hat on the ground at their feet. A chill washed over her.

“Let me up!” The man continued to twist in Marcus's grip, but Marcus was obviously the stronger of the two.

“Not a chance.” Marcus grunted with the effort of keeping him pinned. “Not until we're at the constable's office.”

She walked over to them. “Let the man up to explain himself, Captain.”

“Let him up? He was following you. I think he intended you harm. He held a knife. The constable, at once!” Marcus ordered one of the handful of lads who had gathered, drawn from their work by the fuss. “Run and get him.”

Eve stepped around and leaned down to examine the man's face. “Why would you intend me harm?”

“I don't. He lies.” The man could barely get the words out.

She stopped to retrieve the man's hat for him and steeled her spine. Her instinct told her that Marcus knew what he was doing. “I believe you've knocked the wind right out of him. I don't see any knife, though. Just this watch.” She picked up a shiny, round, silver watch on a chain. “It glints in the light, perhaps like a knife?”

“He
had
a knife,” Marcus insisted. “Look around. In the bushes.”

Eve took a moment to rifle through the foliage but found nothing. “I don't see a knife.”

She returned to look at her supposed aggressor. The man was much stouter than Marcus, but short and apparently not very fit. He had the kind of hair that was probably once carrot orange but had paled with a liberal dose of gray running through it, what little he had left of it. He reminded Eve of her landlord in India. She'd only met him once or twice, though, so it was hard to be certain until he moved just the right way. “But you are my landlord from India. Mr. Lawson, what are you doing here?”

The lad came back with the constable trailing after him.

“Let me up,” Lawson said. “I'm not going to run. I wasn't going to hurt anyone, I swear.”

“Let him up,” the constable said.

Reluctantly, Marcus let go and stood up, adjusting his coat and cuffs as the constable helped Mr. Lawson to his feet.

“Now then.” The constable turned to Eve. “What's the complaint, and who is our damsel in distress?”

Eve blushed, feeling all eyes in the crowd suddenly on her. “I'm Mrs. Eve Kendal, visiting at Thornbrook Park, but I don't believe I'm in any distress.” Not from Mr. Lawson, surely. But how odd that he should be walking behind her unannounced and wearing a black bowler hat. Coincidence? She thought not.

“He had a knife, and he followed Mrs. Kendal in deliberate pursuit. I saw it all from up the way.” Marcus gestured toward the row of shops in the distance.

“And you rushed over to play hero?” the constable asked in an accusatory tone, as if suggesting that Marcus went looking for the chance to stage a rescue.

Growing redder in the face, Marcus looked as if he might explode. Eve touched his arm lightly. His every muscle tensed.

“I'm sure it's a misunderstanding. Mr. Lawson was my landlord in India. We, my husband and I, rented his house.”

“A misunderstanding, yes.” Lawson straightened his waistcoat. “I came to town looking for Mrs. Kendal. I only want to settle a debt.”

“A debt? With a knife?” Marcus lunged at him again, only to be blocked by the constable stepping between them.

“Your husband has quite a temper, perhaps?” the constable suggested.

“He's not my husband,” Eve clarified. “This is Captain Marcus Thorne. The war hero.”

Marcus groaned. She'd learned that he didn't consider himself one, but he'd fought in a war and saved countless lives. Like it or not, a hero he was.

The constable looked suddenly sheepish. “Captain Thorne, didn't recognize you. Very sorry, sir.”

“Jack Smith?” Marcus tilted his head and looked at the constable. “I didn't recognize you either, to be honest. It has been a few years, yes? This man needs to be held and questioned. I will come to the station with you. Mrs. Kendal, please go to the Dower House, where you can call Dale to come round with the car. I have the situation in hand.”

“It involves me. I don't see why I shouldn't go to the station, too. Won't I need to make a statement?” She wouldn't be pushed aside to let the men handle her affairs.

“It
is
the usual procedure in such a case.” The constable scratched his head, as if uncertain.

“Indeed not,” Marcus said, taking charge. “Mrs. Kendal can make her statements here and go home where she is safe.”

“It's Chief Constable Smith now, if you will, Captain Thorne. I will certainly make allowances for your family. The woman is free to go.”

Eve rolled her eyes. Would they all discount her so easily? She, the supposed target of the alleged attack? She held her ground. “But first, Mr. Lawson, what is this debt you speak of? I don't believe I owe you anything.”

“I owe you.” Mr. Lawson shook his head. “A small amount, but fair is fair. Your husband overpaid. I only wanted to make it right.”

“There, you see.” Eve turned to Marcus and the constable. “No harm done. Why don't we let the man pay me and send him on his way? Thank you, Mr. Lawson. I appreciate the effort you must have gone to in order to track me down.”

Mr. Lawson nodded. “Quite an effort.”

Marcus shook his head, unsatisfied. “All that effort to pay a pittance? Why not rely on the mail? I don't believe it.”

“I'm an honest man,” Lawson said. “Do I look like a murderous ruffian?”

Constable Smith threw up his hands. “Who is to say? It seems a logical explanation. Why would he come all this way to make mischief, Captain Thorne? Let's allow the man to settle his affairs and be done with it here. No need for questioning. We have our answers.”

“Perhaps I would like to press charges against this clod for attacking me.” Mr. Lawson gestured at Marcus. “Yes, I believe I would.”

The constable sighed. “To the station it is, then. Both of you. We'll settle this once and for all. Good day, Mrs. Kendal.”

“But I should come along as a witness,” Eve said.

“You will do no such thing. Go home, Eve. I'm asking, not commanding. I would prefer to know you are safe. Please.”

The look of concern in Marcus's eyes made her knees turn to jelly.

“Very well, then. I will see you at Thornbrook Park.”

Trying mightily to hold on to her composure, she walked off, grateful for each step that took her farther from Marcus when all she wanted to do was propel herself into his arms. Perhaps after slapping him for not letting her manage the business on her own.

It was time she faced the facts. She had a longing for Captain Marcus Thorne that she could not deny. To pursue him any further would mean alienating her best and only friend, and being left to fend for herself in the world—a very uncertain prospect considering her lost savings—as well as destroying Marcus's chance to help the Coopers. If she craved Marcus like an opium addict craved the tincture of the poppy, it didn't matter. It was entirely hopeless between them.

She had to fight her attraction, bury it deep, and pretend it didn't exist. She had no other choice.

***

For the first time since coming back from the war, hitting a man had not abated Marcus's rage. He'd wanted to pummel Oliver Lawson into a bloody, mashed-up pulp—and then keep going. Not even being in the presence of the chief constable, a boyhood rival and occasional friend, would have stopped him. It was looking into the depths of Eve Kendal's eyes that had calmed him, the striking blue washing over him like the foam of ocean waves, soothing him at once.

She didn't seem to realize the danger posed by a man following her with a knife clutched in his hand. But then, she hadn't watched the scene unfold as he had.

Why would anyone wish to harm Eve Kendal? The charges against Marcus were dropped readily enough as soon as they arrived at the constable's office and Marcus began countering Lawson's accusations of brutality with questions regarding Lawson's intentions toward Eve. The connection of Lawson to her life in India troubled Marcus immensely. There was something more there, something sinister.

Marcus believed it had to do with money, but not as Oliver Lawson claimed. He'd established that Lawson hailed from London and claimed ownership of several properties in India, which he apparently rented to expatriates like the Kendals. According to Lawson, Captain Kendal had eschewed the usual arrangements made by the army in favor of renting privately to put his wife in a more familiar setting, a small country house such as one might find in England.

Marcus couldn't explain why he'd felt a twinge of something like envy at the thought of Eve and her husband living comfortably together in a house. Her husband had obviously been considerate and doting, and Marcus should be satisfied to hear it. Eve deserved happiness.

His feelings on the matter were all mixed up. He couldn't tell exactly what to make of them, the queer tugging in his lungs when he'd thought of her getting hurt, the sudden peace that had come over him when he'd looked deep into her eyes.

He had saved Eve from personal injury; he knew he had. Somehow it all tied back to her husband and his investments. Marcus was certain of it. Her missing solicitor, and now this man Lawson coming after her with a knife, there had to be a connection. He would get a telegram to Tom Reilly and step up the investigation into Eve's finances. God only knew why he felt it his duty to solve Eve Kendal's difficulties, but suddenly he had an overwhelming urge to protect her.

Of course, becoming personally involved with his sister-in-law's friend instead of the intended Lady Alice was in direct opposition to his goal of helping the Coopers. He had to tread carefully. And perhaps it wouldn't hurt if he avoided looking deep into Eve Kendal's exquisite eyes.

He took Lawson's money to give to Eve, a few pounds that wouldn't make much difference here or there, and then he waited at the station to see that the man boarded his train. He couldn't convince Chief Constable Smith to keep Oliver Lawson locked up, but he felt better seeing that the man had gone back to London, out of Eve's way.

Eve remained safe for now, but Marcus would feel uneasy until he could see her again, could reassure himself that she had made it back to Thornbrook Park safely. He walked as fast as possible up the hill and beyond, only allowing himself to stop and breathe once he rounded the corner and came across Eve, perfectly well, with Alice and Mr. Winthrop out on the lawn.

“Alice was eager to begin her tennis lessons,” Eve explained. “She accompanied us home from the Dower House.”

So it seemed that Eve hadn't informed the others of the attack. She didn't want to worry them, or didn't think it worth mentioning? Drat, if he couldn't manage to get her alone again soon.

“Tennis, Captain Thorne.” Alice smiled. Her cheeks were flushed, but it seemed more from activity than from any delight in seeing him. “I found Mr. Winthrop and harassed him until he agreed to join us for doubles.”

“I had to have a fellow fetch the net anyway. I might as well join in.” Winthrop came over and shook his hand. “Good to see you again, Captain.”

“And you.” Marcus wondered what kind of magic Alice possessed over Mr. Winthrop to convince him to join in an afternoon's sport. “We're to have a game, then?”

“First, what are the rules?” Alice made her way to Marcus. “Perhaps you could show me how.”

“Show you?” Marcus started. Was she flirting with him? He didn't mind Alice's company, but it would feel awkward taking her in his arms, even to demonstrate tennis, with Eve looking on.

Alice tossed the ball in the air and caught it. “Of course. Mrs. Kendal can play with Mr. Winthrop, and I will play with you. You can instruct me as we go.”

Marcus would much rather have been on a side with Eve, to be close to her, but he was safer sticking close to Alice. “Are you game, Mr. Winthrop? Is the court ready for us?”

“You had better be good, Mrs. Kendal.” Winthrop removed his coat and draped it on the porch railing. Marcus followed suit. “When I play, I don't like to lose.”

“Very interesting confession, Mr. Winthrop.” Eve took up a racquet. “I might have guessed that about you.”

She might have guessed? Marcus did not like the turn of events. At all. Eve found Mr. Winthrop interesting? He suddenly summed Winthrop up as a rival instead of merely his brother's estate manager, and he was strangely dissatisfied with the result.

Marcus had to admit that Winthrop was not a bad looking man. Dark hair, dark eyes. Though Winthrop had about five years on Marcus, he was in as good or better physical condition, undoubtedly from hauling soil and wood all hither and yon, since he insisted on laboring with the groundskeepers. If Marcus wasn't mistaken, the man stood an inch or two taller than he was. And finally, he had the undeniable advantage of being resident at Thornbrook Park, in the cottage at the edge of the estate, under employ, and in no danger of being cut off for preferring Eve to Alice.

Suddenly, and without thinking, Marcus whacked the ball in his rival's direction.

“Heads up,” he shouted, thinking the better of it once he'd let it fly. “Sorry, that one got away from me.”