Chapter Twelve
A soft click sounded as the lock gave way to her hairpin. Quickly, Lissa looked to each entrance to the dining room. With no one about so early in the morning, she opened the secret door and pulled the china cupboard closed.
After securing the inside door, she stood absolutely still as the darkness enveloped her, except for the very small flame in her oil lamp she’d taken from their room while Anthony still dressed. The blackness didn’t bother her, as she used to hide under the floorboards of the farmhouse in France after the war broke out, her family determined to keep her safe. Perhaps that was why she’d always enjoyed her forays at night to find food and treasures. She’d only robbed the living, staying far away from the battlefields where her grandmother stole from the pockets of the dead. The sight of blood was her greatest weakness.
Lengthening the wick to make the space brighter, she turned to face the room. The dark-red wallpaper didn’t reflect the light well. Hugging the wall, she searched for another lantern as she walked by weapon after weapon, each hung masterfully on the wall to create a medley of armament that could have been a piece of art. It held a wide variety from ancient claymore swords to what looked to be a bearded axe of the Vikings to a Celtic crossbow. As much as she wanted to inspect each piece, her goal was more illumination, and hopefully more information. Coming upon a desk, she found what she needed and lit the large oil lamp that sat upon it.
The added light made half the large room visible. As she’d expected, there were no windows, the room being created in the center of the house. Looking back at the door she came through, it was clear it wasn’t always a secret room, as it was framed in foot-wide walnut. It was probably a pass-through room, like the one at Dory’s new home, where one room led into another, but someone must have walled it up, unless there was another entrance. Actually, finding another exit should be her first priority.
Glad that she’d worn her soft dance slippers so as to make as little noise as possible, she quietly walked across the hardwood floor, using her smaller lantern to shed additional light. As the opposite wall from the desk was revealed, she slowed. Looking back, she judged the distance to be at least thirty feet. Moving closer, she examined the scarred wall. Holes and marks covered it, as if someone had used it to practice with the weapons in the room. Once more she turned back to view the various weaponry now revealed. If Leighhall did indeed know how to use each one displayed, he was a much more dangerous man than they had thought.
Unease crept up her back, and she turned her attention to finding another way out. As expected, there was another door opposite the one she’d come in, but where it led to was the question. She hadn’t explored nearly as much of the house as Anthony had, so she would confer with him. Still, if needed, she had an escape plan.
As the room itself held little besides old weapons, the practice wall, and the desk, she strode back to the desk, anxious to learn what she could and leave before too many people woke. There were three drawers on each side, but the top was littered with papers. Ads from the London Gazette and the Morning Post cluttered one side, while drawings of weapons sketched on paper were on the other. In the center was the inkwell and plume, as well as what looked like opened letters.
Careful not to move anything, she read what she could see. There were many pleasantries and a few references to weapons and gratefulness, but she couldn’t read who they were from. One described a sexual exploit that included a basket from Asia, which she couldn’t figure out, nor did she wish to. Finally, she carefully lifted a letter to see who the one beneath was from. Lady Amherst’s name caught her attention. Skimming it, she found it simply an invitation, though rather explicit, to her home while her husband was in Town.
She was far more interested in the weapons than Leighhall’s sexual adventures. Finding a letter mentioning the sword break, she gently lifted the one above it. It was instructions for receiving the weapon. Looking at the signature, her breath caught. It was signed with a very flamboyant letter P. Surely it couldn’t be for Prinny, the regent. He would sign it with his name, or His Highness, or some such moniker, wouldn’t he?
Anxious to learn more, she searched for more correspondence about weapons. Her gaze alighted on the word “musket,” and she’d reached out to lift the paper above it when a sound at the door she’d entered stopped her. She snapped her head toward the other door, marking where it was before dousing the lantern on the desk.
As the door began to open, she dropped to the floor, extinguishing the flame of her own lantern as she crouched in the darkness. Was there a lantern at the door she’d missed that would soon flood the room with light? Even at the thought, her heart raced and she searched for a story to tell Leighhall if he found her.
The man walked slowly across the floor as if searching the shadows, a small amount of light from his lantern reflecting off the ceiling above her. As the footsteps grew louder, she pulled herself into a small ball beneath the desk. Her breathing escalated, making it hard to stay silent. She needed to remain calm.
It was no different than the night she’d hidden from soldiers who searched an abandoned home for valuables, not knowing she’d already taken what little there was. That night she escaped through a window by dousing their candles. She could do the same here if she had to.
With a plan in mind, her panic subsided, and she waited for her moment.
The footsteps drew closer, and she prepared herself. They stopped behind the desk, the light shifting over the top of it as if Leighhall searched for one letter in particular. Maybe he would find it and leave.
She watched the man’s trousers where they touched his shoes, moving to the right as he shifted his weight. As long as he didn’t decide to sit and pull the chair in, or push the chair in when he left, she might make it through with no detection.
A soft whistle left the man’s lips above her.
Why would he do that?
His shadow grew larger as he bent to open the lowest drawer. The light scent of clove reached her. Had Leighhall been talking to Anthony? If so, Anthony would be worried about where she was.
As the lowest drawer shut, she heard a sniff. “Lissa?” Even as recognition dawned for her, he crouched low and stared at her. “What are you doing in here?” Though his voice was low, his surprise was clear.
Relief flooded her, and she smirked. “The same thing you are.”
“Come out from there.” He rose and lowered his hand to help her to stand.
She didn’t need it, but was happy to accept. He had a strong grip that she appreciated. As soon as she stood next to him, she nodded to the top of the desk. “Some of these letters are about the weapons.”
“I noticed. At least from what I could see without moving them.” He let go of her hand to point below. “I believe the top drawers have the most important information, as they are locked.”
“That’s not a problem.” She pulled her hairpin from her pocket and held it up.
He grasped her wrist. “Not now. When I came inside here, the servants were stoking the fires. We need to leave and come back this afternoon when Leighhall invites us to use the various rooms.”
“That’s a good plan.” When he released her arm, she dropped the hairpin back into her pocket. “Maybe then we can discover where the other door goes to.”
“Other door?”
“Yes. It’s directly across from the one you came in.”
He looked in the appropriate direction, but his lantern was far too low to see it. “We shall do that as well. But now we must leave.”
Since her lantern was doused, she followed him as he led them back to the door. She couldn’t help asking before he opened it, “You’re not angry that I came in here without you?”
He looked back at her and smiled. “As soon as I sent the valet on his way, it’s where I expected you to be, but when I entered and all was dark, I thought you may be with Delilah or Violet somewhere.”
Pleased that he did not expect her to meekly wait for him, she rose on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m so glad I came.”
His brow lowered, but he smiled, clearly uncomfortable. “I admit, it may not have been a good decision, but you are of great help.”
She grinned. “And that’s exactly why you should be happy I’m here.”
He still didn’t look certain, but he turned back to the door and doused his lantern before opening it. Light shone through the slit between the back piece of the china cabinet.
When he didn’t immediately move forward, she assumed someone was in the room.
They seemed to stand there for almost twenty minutes, but for all she knew it was only three. Finally, he moved the cabinet doors to the side and stepped out. She closed the door to the room behind them before following, then clicked the secret opening back into place. She had just closed the glass doors of the china cabinet when Anthony spoke.
“Lord Leighhall, just the person we’d hoped to see. Daguette was admiring that tea service you have on the top shelf. The one with the pansies on it. Where did you find that?”
She spun about to look inquiringly at Leighhall. “I really must purchase one. My dear mother had one quite similar, but instead of two flowers, it only had one.”
Leighhall strode over and examined the set. “Hmm, I believe my own mother purchased that from Fortnum & Mason. But that was years before I was born. I doubt that you’ll find it.”
Anthony pulled her against him. “Would you consider selling this one?”
The viscount shook his head. “I’m sorry, Bellamore. It’s my mother’s, and she would not forgive me.”
As the man looked to Lissa, she let her lower lip stick out, and he laughed, chucking her under the chin like a child. “Now don’t be sad, mademoiselle. I’m sure young Bellamore here will purchase something even nicer for you.”
She glanced at Anthony then looked to Leighhall. “My lord, you are indeed a good son.”
For some reason, that made the man laugh. “You found yourself a gem, Bellamore.” At that moment, the servants began loading the side table with food. “I just hope she hides as well as she pouts.”
A shiver raced up her spine. “Hide? Why would I hide?”
The man’s grin did not reach his eyes. “Because today we hunt. Did Bellamore not tell you? You are the prey.”
Startled, she looked to Anthony, who quickly shook his head. “Actually, I had planned to let Daguette do the hunting. As you can see in her purple dress, she would be far too easy to find, and I wouldn’t want her accused of cheating.”
“Ah, I see you wish to follow the rules. That’s wise of you.” The man nodded, clearly impressed. “Now come and eat, for there’s a frost on the fields and you’ll need a full stomach. Sometimes the hunt can take hours, and—” Leighhall’s head snapped to the doorway. “Alberta.” Without another word, he left them to escort his other mistress, who was as dark and voluptuous as Selene was light and whisper thin.
Lissa leaned in. “What am I hunting?”
“Me.”
She raised her brows, surprised and not a little concerned. “Surely I’m not expected to kill you.”
“No.” Anthony led her toward the sideboard. “You’re expected to find me in the wood, and there is no cheating or you’ll have to return to the house naked.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t need to cheat. I’m an excellent tracker.”
“Exactly why I chose to be the prey.”
Flattered that he remembered her skill, she felt a strange gratefulness for his thoughtful decision. “And for that, I promise not to kill you.”
He chuckled before handing her a plate with which to choose her food.
Despite what Leighhall said, she did not choose much, as she didn’t wish a full stomach if she were to track. Once they had what they wanted, they settled at the table and were soon joined by Delilah and Rothbury as others trickled in.
There was much laughter and sense of anticipation as everyone enjoyed their tea and cocoa, making the hour rather enjoyable. It reminded Lissa of eating with the curious ladies, and she hoped Eleanor was enjoying her time at Dory’s.
Eventually, Leighhall rose. “This morning we shall have a hunt of a special nature. You shall choose one of you to be the hunter and the other to be the prey. For example, Alberta here could be my prey. Her challenge would be to hide in the east wood without being found by me. Once I find her, I would bring her back to the tent at the entry point.”
“What if you find Violet?” Lord Buswick asked the question, but clearly knew the answer, as he looked at Anthony as if to make the point clear.
“If you find another hunter’s prey, you must not say anything to that hunter but continue on until you find your own. Telling someone the location of their prey is considered cheating.”
Rothbury squeezed Delilah’s shoulders. “And you don’t want to cheat.”
Leighhall’s face took on a menacing look. “No one is allowed to cheat. No leaving a ribbon on a tree or making loud noises or deciding beforehand where you will be as prey.”
Pemberton pointed to Lissa. “If you do, you must walk naked back to the house, and it’s damn cold out there, so I won’t be cheating…this time.”
“Oh, I’m so relieved.” At Violet’s comment, laughter filled the room.
“This is very creative, my lord.” Alberta gazed hungrily at Leighhall. “Will I be the prey or you?”
He lifted her chin with his finger. “You, of course, my dear. Best that I don’t find you too quickly, or you may very well find yourself in the sling.”
Alberta’s large chest rose, threatening to spill out of her scooped neckline. As the sexual frisson between the two was palpable, the room fell silent. “Hmm, and if you find me last?”
If she hadn’t been watching closely, Lissa would have missed the pure fury that filled the man’s eyes, but she did catch it, and it chilled her.
“Then, my sweet, I will have no choice but to punish you.”
Instead of heeding the warning, Alberta stoked the fire. “I guess we will just have to see how good a hunter you truly are.”
As if he’d forgotten they all watched, Leighhall moved his finger down the woman’s neck to wrap his hand around it. “I’m a very, very good hunter.”
The woman’s eyes widened with understanding. “I never doubted that, my lord.”
Appeased by her sudden capitulation, Leighhall turned back to them all. “Let us all don our coats and cloaks and remove to the tent before the east wood.”
The mood of the guests remained jovial, which Lissa found odd. Had they not seen the look in Leighhall’s eyes? That could well be, since he’d been looking at Alberta, and no one else was left on that side of the table besides Anthony and herself.
As they all walked briskly across the field, the sun broke through the many clouds, making the air warmer. Lissa slowed her step, forcing Anthony to also slow.
He looked at her in question.
When enough space was made between them and the two couples they’d been behind, she spoke quietly. “Did you see Leighhall’s threat?”
Anthony nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“The room is filled with weapons.”
Again he nodded as if listening to her concerns about the hunt, but she understood that he too had seen the walls of the secret room.
“The far wall is a practice wall.”
At that, his brows rose before he frowned. “I understand.”
Relieved that he caught the connection she’d made between the weapons, the man, and the danger, she found her shoulders relaxing. Having Anthony by her side made her feel far safer. How odd that she hadn’t realized that before. Even in France, she’d felt that way, as if she’d never get caught—or if she did, he’d be there. Then again, she was there for him too. They were friends, after all.
“Hey, Bellamore, I hope you aren’t planning a meeting place.”
At Buswick’s call, Anthony laughed. “Hardly. I’ve never been in these woods, so I wouldn’t begin to know what areas they contain.”
Violet looked over her shoulder at them. “You will soon.”
Her laughter caught the attention of Leighhall, who led the way. “You will all learn these woods, as they are different from the ones you last hunted in.”
Did the man actually keep track of who came in what month and what woods? As if he’d read her mind, Buswick looked at them as they caught up and walked beside him. “Leighhall is nothing if not meticulously organized. His forethought is what makes coming here each time such fun.”
Lissa tried to fit that in with the mess of correspondence she’d seen on his desk. The two behaviors didn’t match. Then again, perhaps in his most private sanctuary he relaxed such strict tendencies. Maybe it was a need to control the situation when around others.
The white tent was large enough for all to sit and have a meal in, except no chairs or tables were present. It had obviously been set up simply to keep the elements at bay, specifically the morning frost. Her choice of boots for the day was much more appropriate than some of the footwear the other ladies sported, and her pelisse did provide some warmth. Though she wished she had her trousers instead of the deep purple dress with the scooped neck that she wore now. Unfortunately, she hadn’t brought any, not wishing someone to recognize her in the future when she may have a need for wearing them out of necessity.
“My dear guests. For those chosen as prey, please step forward.”
Anthony leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek before moving forward. The action was not lost on the few nearby, particularly Violet.
“Oh, he is a sweet one. I hope you get to keep him a long time.”
Lissa clasped her hands to her chest. “He says he will never leave me.”
“Yes, well, that is a lovely sentiment, but it’s important to plan for those between times. We must always have the ability to be happy alone, so we are never too desperate.”
There was a wealth of knowledge in the woman’s eyes, and Lissa did not doubt she spoke from experience. “I will take that advice to heart.”
“Good.” Violet turned her attention back to those lined up before Leighhall.
Anthony, Buswick, and another gentleman stood with the women from the rest of the pairs. Even as she watched, she noted how much broader Anthony was. No wonder he passed for middle class so easily, yet he held himself as an aristocrat, which he was. Her anger at him over that had dissipated because he acted no different with her because of it, and he was becoming more comfortable with seeing her in a dress. She might just have to see tonight how comfortable he could be.
Even as the thought of undressing for him filled her head, Leighhall’s voice caused it to vanish.
“Our prey will have twenty minutes to find a place to hide. I must now ask all my hunters to face the other way. I would not want you to have an idea of where the rabbit entered the wood.”
As they turned around, Pemberton complained, “You too, Leighhall.”
Leighhall strode around them and stood before all the hunters, his back to their prey. Lifting his watch, he waited a moment then called out, “You may leave, now!”
Lissa listened intently to the sounds behind her. The women’s light tread was quick as they ran for the wood. The men seemed more purposeful, as if they knew where they would go. If she wasn’t mistaken, two men headed straight, but one headed to the other end of the wood. That would be Anthony. How fun to use her tracking skills and her knowledge of her baron to find him.
Leighhall backed up into their line between Violet and Pemberton. As the others conversed to wile away the minutes, she thought about all she knew of Anthony’s abilities in the woods. They were many, and if he wished to remain hidden a long time he could, but she was quite positive he would wish to be found relatively early. He’d always been protective of her, even while in France, so he wouldn’t want her to have to track for too long. Her concern was finding him too quickly. If Leighhall was not one of the first, if not the first, to find his prey, she was quite sure they would all know it.
“Really, Leighhall. Is it not time yet? My arse is cold and I need a willing woman to warm it.”
“Control yourself, Pemberton. You still have three minutes.”
She glanced past Violet to see Leighhall quite pleased that Pemberton was anxious. What was it that motivated such a man?
Finally, Leighhall held his arm up as he looked at his watch and brought it down. “Time to go hunting.” The man spun and sprinted directly into the wood, as did many others.
She strolled forward, moving at a diagonal, following the matted footprints of one path crossing all others. As she entered the wood, it felt colder despite the fact very few leaves held to the trees to block any sunlight. Keeping her gaze on the ground, she followed the male footprints. She could be wrong and they might belong to Buswick, but she’d follow them anyway.
When the steps seemed to disappear, she grinned. Only Anthony would backtrack to throw her off his scent. Confident she had the right set, she returned the way she came until she could see where he continued. It was so much easier than tracking a hare or a fox.
When she came to a very small area covered in pine needles, she paused. It was impossible to see the tracks. With no help for it, she walked around the perimeter to see where he’d left the area.
A squeal rang out, and she halted. Then loud laughter followed. It sounded like Alice. If so, Pemberton either got lucky or the woman cheated.
She shivered. Hopefully, Leighhall had already found Alberta, or it would not be pleasant.
Resuming her trek about the needle circle, she found a broken twig just as raindrops started to sprinkle. Happy for her fur-lined bonnet, she continued into the wood. It took a few strides before she found his footsteps again, but then she heard a rustling behind her. Looking back, she watched as Delilah moved stealthily in the opposite direction.
Keeping silent, she watched until the woman was out of sight, then turned back to her track. The rain was beginning to affect the footprints, so she quickened her pursuit. Then, suddenly, the tracks stopped. She turned back to see if he’d backtracked again, but it didn’t appear so. Coming back to where the footsteps ended, she reviewed the area. Nothing was disturbed, no twig broken.
Smiling, she looked up to see a rather low branch. If she had her trousers, she’d climb the tree, too. Instead, she stepped back, thankful for the slight cover of her bonnet as she looked up into the tree to find Anthony sitting on a branch a few above her. “Is it colder up there?”
He shook his head as he bent over to look at her. “I should have known you’d find me so quickly.” He jumped down to another branch before sitting on the last one.
She stepped closer. “Has anyone beside Alice been found yet? Could you see from up there?”
He nodded as he jumped to the ground. “Indeed, I did. Alice, Alberta, Buswick, and at least six others have sought shelter under the tent.”
Relieved they wouldn’t be too early, she hooked her arm in his, and they started forward to join the others. “You didn’t do much to cover your tracks.”
“I didn’t want you out here with Leighhall. I don’t trust him.”
Not knowing if others were near, since the rain was becoming steadier and the sound of it hitting the earth was growing louder, she put her finger to her lips. “We are all going to need to change once we get back. At least we can shelter in the tent a bit.”
Just then, the rain doubled in intensity and Anthony slipped his arm from hers. “Run for the tent!”
She grabbed hold of her already wet skirts, lifted them high, and raced forward. Despite the sound of the rain, Anthony’s thundering footsteps were clear behind her. As they raced out of the wood and the short distance to the tent, shouts from those undercover greeted them. No sooner had they stepped inside than others arrived as well.
Her pelisse was soaked, as was her bonnet. She untied the ruined hat and pulled it off, though it was too cold to shuck her pelisse. Glancing at others doing the same, she noticed someone was missing. “Where’s Delilah?”
Anthony looked up from shaking his greatcoat free of water. “I don’t see her, but Rothbury is here.”
Lissa immediately strode up to Lord Rothbury. “Where’s Delilah?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Couldn’t find her. The woman is too clever by half.”
Placing her hands on her hips, she stared at the man. “So you ran for cover and left her out there?”
Anthony’s hands on her shoulders just made her angrier, and she shrugged him off. “If you will excuse me.”
“Where are you going?”
She turned on Rothbury. “To get Delilah.”
“You can’t.” The man shook his head. “If she refuses to come in on her own, that’s her decision. You’re a hunter. You’re not allowed to hunt my prey. That’s cheating.”
“No, it’s not. It’s caring enough that someone doesn’t die of exposure.” She stalked to the opening, but halted as Anthony stepped in front of her. “I’ll find her.”
She was about to refuse, but if she saw Delilah then he must have seen her too from his perch. “Fine. But if you’re not back in ten minutes, I’m coming for you.”
He gave her a nod and ran back out into the downpour.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t go, mademoiselle. As the hunter, that would have been cheating.”
She turned at the sound of Leighhall’s voice, even as fury filled her. “Yes, it would have been cheating death, but really, he’s not such a great bedmate now, is he, my lord?”
The man took a step back then studied her.
Merde , she couldn’t antagonize him or it could ruin Anthony’s investigation. “But that is just what my mother taught me.” She smiled. “I’m sure you were going to send servants out to look for her anyway.” She waved her hand. “It is the way of us French, so filled with concern over our sisters.”
At the mention of servants, she could see Leighhall hadn’t even thought of that. He covered up his thoughtlessness easily. “I understand your concern. As young Bellamore will save the day, I will keep my servants dry.” He turned from her and addressed them all. “And Alice, who cheated, can do her naked walk once inside the warm environs of the house.”
Alice grinned. “That will be even more fun!”
The others went back to talking, but she turned to look out the opening of the tent. What if Anthony were the one to become sick? It had never occurred to her before, but now that he was out there, she couldn’t stop watching.