Chapter One #2
She cleared her throat. “The object of my investigation is Lord Frampton’s wife.”
“What did she do? Another theft of jewelry?”
“No, this time it is a packet of purloined love letters.”
Trajan furrowed his brow. “And you think Lady Frampton stole them? I am assuming they contained something quite embarrassing.”
She nodded. “I believe so. I was not given details of their content.”
“Are they embarrassing to Lady Frampton or to another lady?”
“Another lady, and it is now feared Lady Frampton’s husband will make use of those letters for his own gain.”
“Florence, be careful. The Framptons are a powerful and well-connected family.”
“I know, and Lord Frampton is dangerously ambitious. I think he was the one who urged her to steal those letters from the wife of one of his political rivals. The rival is a decent and honest man, but he will be made a laughingstock and knocked out of contention for any office of importance unless I get those damaging letters back. I haven’t figured out how to do that yet. ”
He cast her an admonishing look. There were so many reasons why this was a terrible idea.
Not only were the Framptons dangerous to cross, they were also his neighbors, and he did not want any unpleasant incidents within days of his moving in at Gull Hall, the grand estate serving as the seat of the Weymouth dukes.
“You should not be handling this assignment. Why did your client not leave it to the Bow Street Runners?”
“Because those investigators are most effective in London, and this latest theft has brought me all the way out here.”
He dug a twig out of Florence’s hair that seemed ready to burst from its pins. Rays of sunlight streamed through the foliage, highlighting the dark-chestnut hues of her silky tresses. “Are you sure these are merely love letters you believe Lady Frampton stole? And from whom did she steal them?”
She glanced around nervously as they heard voices nearby. “May we get away from here? I’ll tell you everything once we are safe.”
“Safe?” He frowned. “You think we are in danger?”
“Well…” She glanced in the direction of the approaching voices. “Yes, we might be. I’m not sure if Lord Frampton saw the glint of my binoculars in the tree as I spied into his bedchamber.”
“You did what?”
“Hush. I believe that is him walking over to investigate. Please, he mustn’t find out I have been watching him,” she said, now whispering.
“Oh, do you think he might just be the littlest bit furious?” he whispered back. “Blessed saints, you are out of your depth here, Florence.”
“I am not—”
The sound of a gunshot tore through the trees too close to them for comfort. Trajan drew her closer to him. “Give me those binoculars.”
To his relief, she did not argue. Without protest, she reached into a large pocket sewn into her gown and handed them over.
“Thank you,” he said, and threw them a good distance into the shrubbery.
“Aubrey, you clot!” she whispered with a mingled gasp. “What did you do that for?”
“He’ll know it was you spying on him if he finds the binoculars on you.”
“But—”
Another gunshot tore past, directly above them, sending leaves and twigs falling atop their heads.
“Quiet…he’s close now, and he is not alone.
” He grabbed her hand and ran with her away from this spot, for the broken branch that had sent her tumbling out of the tree was at their feet, and would give them away if they were so foolish as to remain at the spot and try to bluster their way out of trouble.
Since he had spent this past week exploring Gull Hall, he was familiar with the manor house and its surrounding land.
This thicket of trees offered sufficient coverage as they made their escape.
However, they were slowed by the fact they had to crouch down and make as little noise as possible while running along the narrow trails.
Trajan took pains to avoid twigs that might snap under their feet and be heard, but the ground cover offered by the lush foliage was enough to keep them out of sight and their footsteps mostly muffled.
The woodlands on his property tapered to a gentle downhill slope as the tree line ended, and the slope continued for a short distance to a sharp drop-off onto a sandy beach.
There was another path before the drop-off, and that path led straight back to Gull Hall. Unfortunately, it was open air and not at all sheltered. They could not make a run to the house without being seen by anyone emerging from the woods.
The only sensible plan was to take the stairs that led down to the strip of golden-sand beach and the blue cove waters beyond. He had inspected those stairs only yesterday and knew the wooden planks were sound enough to hold them both.
“This makes no sense,” she said between panting breaths as they sprinted down the length of those sturdy steps. “Why are you taking me toward the water? Shouldn’t we be running to your house?”
“The house is too far and he will spot us easily on that exposed path. Do you trust me?”
“I’m not sure.”
Not the answer he was hoping for. “Well, you should. You and I are to be found cavorting on the beach.”
“Cavorting? What exactly does this entail?”
He paused once they descended the last step and their boots sank into the soft sand. “Forgive me, Florence.”
“What for?”
He circled his arms around her and drew her up close.
“What are you doing? Is this your idea of cavorting? If you think I am going pause midway in our escape to put my arms around you, then you have another thing coming.”
“Just do as I say. I am not trying to be amorous.”
“Then why are your arms around me and why are you holding my body plastered to yours? Oh, you have nice muscles. What are you planning to do? You—”
“Stop talking, Florence. I need to kiss you.”
“Kiss me? What madness is—”
He pressed his mouth down on hers and kissed the daylights out of her.