To Have and to Hold (35 page)

“How do we ask
the locals if they have seen a woman dressed as a boy?
 
We cannot alert
DeLisle
to Isobel’s guise.
 
To do so would be
risking her life.
 
We
know she is dressed as a boy, but they don’t.
 
That gives her an advantage in staying
anonymous, and us an advantage in finding her.”

Peter got down
from his horse.

“We have to
follow her on foot.
  
I think I have an
idea which way she went.”
  
Dominic
continued as he marched back into the house.

Peter raised his
eyebrows.
 
“
How?
 
It’s a big county out
there!”
 
To indicate the fact he swept
his arm around him in an arc incredulously before following him inside.

“She’s a
woman.”
 
Dominic replied with a tinge of
masculine arrogance.
 
“She isn’t likely
to be climbing trees to get over barriers in her way.
 
She is more likely to go over stone walls,
over hedges that kind of thing, and stick to relatively easy tracks.”
 
He shook his head as he walked out of the
back door and began to move around the side of the house, motioning for the
stable boy to return the horses.
 
“We
also know she is likely to stay out of sight as much as possible.”
 
Sensing everyone’s confusion he paused for
precious moments to explain.
  
“She
managed to survive two months living alone in the wild.
 
If she had made herself seen in towns and
villages along the way too often, there was too much possibility she would have
been recognised as a woman sooner.”

“That reminds
me.”
 
Sebastian murmured
thoughtfully.
 
“How did you know it was
Isobel that day in Melton when you found her, if she was dressed as a boy?”

“I just knew it
was her.”
 
Dominic murmured softly, as he
recalled the vivid image of Isobel, half starved, weaving through the milling
throng.
 
“At first I couldn’t believe
it.
 
Not after –“He glanced sideways at
Peter unwilling to voice his thoughts.
 
“But when she turned around, I just knew.”
 

Dominic paused,
knowing exactly what he had to do.
 
“You
need to remain here.”
 
He announced to
the amassed throng milling in the doorway waiting for instruction.
 
“You need to keep watch on the house.
 
I will go after Isobel.
 
Alone.”
  

Peter considered
his friend for several moments, but had witnessed the determination on his face
and the ruthless glint in his eye enough times to know that he wouldn’t back
down until he had reached his goal.
 
Dominic had gone into battle mode, and wouldn’t be deterred until the battle
had been won.

Cautiously
nodding his head, and shaking his head at Sebastian and Edward’s instinctive
protests, Peter ushered them back towards the house.
 
“Stay safe.”
 
He murmured, but as he glanced back he paused briefly, a chill going
down his own spine as he stared into the empty shadows.
 
As silent as a cat Dominic had simply
vanished into the night.
 
Shaking his
head over the complexities of relationships, he considered how well suited
Dominic and Isobel actually were.
 
They
were indeed both of similar mindset, and both had the most intriguing ability
to be so annoyingly illusive when they wanted to be.
 
A more unconventional couple he had yet to
meet.
 

Not so silently,
Peter followed everyone back into the warmth and relative safety of the house
with a shiver.
 
He certainly didn’t envy
Isobel when Dominic caught up with her.

Isobel was
frozen.
 
It hadn’t taken long for the
cold to penetrate the heavy boots she was wearing, or the richly expensive
woollen cloak.
 
Her fingers had already
gone stiff with cold.
 
She sniffed
softly, wishing she had remembered to bring a handkerchief.
 

A few months ago
she had grown oblivious to the cooler night air, having become accustomed to
spending most of the daytime outside.
 
The relatively short time she had been living at
Tavistock
Hall had softened her.
 
She had quickly
become used to the sheer luxury of roaring fires, and warm clothing.
 
How easily she had forgotten, she mused, as
she tried to wriggle some feeling back into her numb toes.
 

Carefully
pulling the cloak as high as it would go, she tugged her cap down low until it
covered the tips of her pink ears.
 
Covering herself as much as possible, she eyed the sprawling house
before her with trepidation.
 

Although still
large, Rupert’s house wasn’t as grandiose as
Tavistock
Hall, by any stretch of the imagination.
 
Nor were the gardens as beautifully landscaped, Isobel thought as she
carefully surveyed the outlines of the sparse vegetation through the
darkness.
 
Thankfully the moon was only
partially showing, which afforded some visibility, but not enough to penetrate
the umbrella of trees currently giving her protection from prying eyes.
 

Keeping her back
to the solid bulk of the largest tree trunk she could find, Isobel stood
silently in the shadows and carefully scanned the house, with its many windows
lining the ground floor.
 
It appeared
there were only three main doors; the front door, the rear kitchen door and one
set of larger doors to the side facing her.
 

She had studied
the building long enough to learn that somebody inside was keeping watch.
 
At regular intervals the soft glow of a
candle would move past windows, slowly moving from the rear of the house,
towards the front before presumably climbing the main stairs, after several
minutes the light would appear at the front of the house upstairs, before
slowly moving towards the back.
 
Isobel
counted to six hundred slowly before the guard returned to the original place
where she considered were the kitchens.

Slowly she eased
away from the tree, scanning the surrounding woodlands for any signs of the
movement.
 
Apart from the occasional
flurry of a furry creature on the ground, there was nothing to indicate anyone
else was nearby.
 
As quietly as she could
manage, Isobel circumnavigated the house, carefully keeping note of doorways and
windows.
 
As far as she could tell,
DeLisle
and Rupert were not in residence.
 
There was no carriage in the barn, and apart
from the solitary candle moving through the house at regular intervals, there
were no other lights in the property.
 
Nor, Isobel noted with disdain as she eyed the empty chimneys, had
anybody bothered to light a fire.
 

Shivering as a
cool draft of night air teased the ends of her cloak, Isobel eased through the first
row of trees marking the edge of the gardens, closest to the kitchen door.
 
Peering through the gloom she was busy
looking for a large tree to stand against when a solid length of well muscled
arm slid around her waist.
 
Her scream of
fright was immediately cut off by a gloved hand clamped harshly over her lips.

“Don’t scream,”
the harsh voice snarled in her ear.
 
Isobel immediately froze, and closed her eyes against the wave of
sickness that swept through her.
 
Briefly, she wondered if she might just throw up there and then as she
realised who was behind her.
 
Anger
swelled as she wrenched her head away, tempted for a brief moment to sink her
teeth into the soft leather of his gloves in retribution for the shock he had
given her.
 

Squirming she
tried to pull away only to find herself held tight against the solid wall of
his chest.
 
“Damn it let me go!” Isobel
snapped, tugging ineffectually at the arm across her chest.
 

“Stand still
woman, and for God’s sake keep quiet!”
 
Dominic growled dropping the arm across her waist to place it firmly
across her hips and in doing so, tightening his hold and waiting patiently
until she stopped squirming.
 

Temper seething,
Isobel rolled her eyes and eventually stood motionless in his arms.
 
Inwardly she was secretly relieved he was
with her.
 
The solid reassurance of his
bulk behind her gave her enormous comfort.
 
Despite the fact the tight band of his arms were unforgiving in their
fierceness, they gave Isobel some indication of the level of his anger with
her.

“How did you
find me?”
 
Isobel murmured softly, her
voice a ghost of a whisper through the night air.
 
Keeping her head low, the soft fog of her
breath disappeared into the soft wool of the cloak, giving nothing away of her
presence in the woods.

Dominic snorted
cynically.
 
“I’ve recently returned from
war.
 
You would be surprised what I got
up to.
 
Tracking you was easy, my dear.”
 
Inwardly, Dominic shook his head at his
wife’s dexterity and hoped she never discovered the lie he had just told.
 
She had indeed been deuced difficult to
find.
 
It had taken all of his skills to
find her, having passed her twice earlier without even realising she was
there!
 
If she hadn’t taken it upon herself
to circle the property, he most probably would never have found her.
 

“I’m not going
back to
Tavistock
.”
 
Isobel warned.
 
Her voice was
tinged with a mixture of regret and determination.

Dominic raised
his eyebrows arrogantly, a gesture that was lost in the gloom.

“What would you
suggest?
 
That I leave you here?”
 
His voice was hostile, and devoid of any
warmth.
 
The battle hardened warrior she
had seen on the night he had found her was back with a vengeance.
 
There was no warmth, or familiarity in his
demeanour.
 
No better side for her to
appeal to.
 
This was a man she didn’t
know.

“I have to do
this Dominic.”
 
Isobel refused to be
cowed by his anger, despite the bitter regret that coursed through her.
 
She relished the last moments of being held
by him, and took the opportunity to lean upon his strength while he stood behind
her.

“And what do you
plan to do?
 
Knock on the front door and
ask for work?”
 
Dominic loosened his grip
to move beside her, flicking a cool look of derision up and down her.

Squaring her
shoulders, Isobel’s eyes locked with his defiantly.
 
“I’m going to break in and get the
documentation I know exists.”
  
Inwardly,
she knew if he took it into his head, he could very well throw her over his
shoulder and carry her back to
Tavistock
Hall.
 
Unless she wanted to scream and alert anyone
in
DeLisle’s
residence to their whereabouts, she
would have to remain passive, and let him bring all of her hard work and
careful planning to naught.

Dominic’s
condescending sigh was all it took to light the embers of her temper.
 
Nerves and emotion battled and warred with common
sense as she leant her face closer to his, going up on tip-toe to meet his
gaze, almost at his level.
 
She was very
much aware when he squared his shoulders and stared coldly down at her.
 

“I am not asking
your permission.
 
I am not seeking your
help.” Isobel’s voice cut through the night air like a knife as she glared at
her husband standing stoically before her.
 
“This is something
I
have to
do, for me.”
 
A red hot wave of fury
flowed like molten lava through her veins as she poked a finger into the solid
wall of chest.
 
“It was me he beat half
to death.
 
Me, who thought I wouldn’t get
out
alive
.
 
Me,
whose life he destroyed.
 
I am getting
those papers.”
 
Once again she jabbed a
finger into his chest, harder and with more determination that she had realised
she had.
 
“I am going into that house to
get the documents I have seen and know exist.
 
Do what you want!
 
Go home if you
want to, but you will not stop me.”
Still carried along on
the tide of anger, Isobel pulled her cloak around her, and moved back along the
tree line, very much aware of his frosty silence.