Chapter Twenty-Two
A deline once again battled with her blasted hair. The best she had been able to do last night was a rather loose braid. The tie had come undone in the night while she slept, and her curls were like a halo of tangles this morning. She pulled the brush through another snarl and winced as it tugged at her scalp. At least she had awoken at a decent hour this morning.
Last night, she had shared dinner with Kingsbury and Mr. Bosely in the main dining room. It had been quite the experience as she had never been allowed to dine there before when she traveled with her parents. They had always had a private dining room. Clearly, Lord Kingsbury was not aware of the many rules that applied to ladies of quality, especially unmarried ones, and she was thoroughly glad of it. Adeline was done with following the rules society set. She was twenty-three years old, and she had been hiding out with her books, longing for adventures like the ones she’d read about inside them.
Besides, there had been nothing scandalous in the main dining room. Just families traveling through, a band of young men that sat together drinking ale, and one table of white-haired matrons laughed uproariously and shared a bottle of wine. Everyone looked to be having fun, and so had she. Kingsbury and Bosely had entertained her with stories from their travels throughout the dinner of country ham, potatoes, and gravy.
She had initially been anxious to see how Malcolm would treat her after his wicked declarations whispered in her ear. But true to his word, he had been a gentleman, which perhaps was a tiny bit disappointing but also a bit of a relief. Making love to him in her imagination was not at all the same as the overwhelming reality of being wrapped up in the embrace of the man himself. Did she have the skill to seduce a man like Kingsbury?
A knock sounded, and like the previous morning, Malcolm’s blond head poked around the door, a grin on his handsome face. “This morning, I was able to procure sticky buns for us.”
“That sounds delicious. Come in.” She paused tugging at her hair.
“Still taming your hair?”
“Always. It feels like an endless job. And it makes me miss Mary. Which makes me realize how utterly spoiled I am.”
He crossed to her and held out a hand. “Let me. It would be my pleasure.”
“Only if you hand me one of those sticky buns.”
He went back to the table for the bag. He opened the top, and Adeline pulled out a gooey honey-glazed sticky bun. It smelled divine. She took a bite, closing her eyes as the still-warm pastry all but melted on her tongue. Malcolm set the bag on the edge of the bed near them and then took the brush from her other hand. Coming around behind her, he began to unsnarl her hair.
“It is a damn shame ladies must coil up their hair. It’s so beautiful loose.”
“It is out of necessity. It would get into everything if I didn’t pin it back.”
“I suppose so.” His fingers threaded through her hair, and he gently scratched her scalp.
“If you keep doing that, I will become a puddle on the floor. It feels incredible.”
“Hmmm, I will remember that for later.” He began to braid her hair.
She was surprised that he had paid attention yesterday and was able to duplicate the style seemingly without trouble. When he was done, he bent and placed a kiss on her neck, sending a delicious shiver through her. Then he reached for her hand that had held the sticky bun and slowly sucked honey off her forefinger, then the middle finger, making his way all the way to the pinky, giving it an extra lick. Adeline ran her tongue over her lower lip, tasting the sweet honey left behind. Would he give this much attention to all of her if she let him?
Malcolm stepped back. He took the bag, reached inside for a pastry, and took a large bite. “Today, I think we should take a break from traveling and spend the day exploring the autumn festival instead. We are not in any hurry to get to Millstone Manor. We deserve a relaxing day after yesterday’s difficulties. Would you like that?”
She nodded. “I have never attended an autumn festival. We are always in London during the autumn months.”
He grinned. “Perfect. The innkeeper said it is a short walk to the festival grounds. They have pig racing, pony rides, musicians, and many vendors selling produce and crafts. Let’s get Mr. Bosely and go explore. Oh, and he said they plan to have a large bonfire this evening, and the whole village comes together.”
Adeline laughed at his childish enthusiasm. His eyes sparkled with it, and he gestured with his hands as he talked. She went to slip on her wool cape and put on her bonnet. Glancing over at her carpet bag, she had a moment of indecision. She didn’t want to risk leaving the artifacts unattended in the inn. She better keep them with her. She grabbed the bag.
“You are bringing your books?”
“Oh no. I shall leave them behind. I want to bring the bag with me in case I find anything interesting to buy. This bag comes in very handy when shopping.”
Kingsbury gave her a quizzical look but then shrugged. “All right. Let’s go exploring.”
*
Yesterday’s storms had passed through, and Adeline enjoyed the sun’s warmth on her face as she gazed up at a blue sky dotted with white clouds. The walk to the edge of Andover was indeed an easy, pleasant stroll. As they approached the tents that held a variety foodstuffs, Mr. Bosely abandoned them to go buy a bag of salted nuts from the next row. Adeline spotted a table laden with baskets of apples. “Let’s get an apple to munch on.”
“Your wish is my command,” Malcolm replied.
They continued walking down the grassy aisles in between the tents and tables while crunching loudly on crisp, sweet apples. A table of books for sale took her a good half hour to peruse. She kept glancing over at Malcolm, where he waited lounging against a fence post, but he never appeared cross or frustrated with how long she was taking to look through the haphazard piles of books. She finally wandered over to him.
“Find anything good?” he asked.
“Not really.” She shook her head.
He weaved his fingers through hers. “Come, I heard there was going to be a puppet show at noon. Let’s see if we can find it.”
Adeline smiled as he tugged her along. Their connected hands swung gently back and forth between them. What a perfect morning. They found the puppet show and laughed as hard as the children seated in the grass at the antics of a goat herder and his naughty goats. Right next to the puppet theater, delicious smells wafted from the meat pasty vendor, and this time, she tugged Malcolm’s hand. There were long wooden tables set up by the aisle of food vendors, and they sat to enjoy their lunch among other villagers and travelers.
“Honestly, I don’t know the last time I had so much fun,” Adeline said. “I haven’t once had to worry about how I should be acting or what I should be saying. It has been quite relaxing.”
“I agree. As glittering as all those parties in town are, they come with so many rules and expectations of how to behave. I was always afraid of doing the wrong thing.”
“You were?” She set down her pasty and gawked at him. “You never appear to have anything but endless confidence.”
“Well, that’s the trick, isn’t it? Make it look like you know what you are doing.”
Adeline thought about the truth of that. She had never been very good at pretense. Although—she glanced down at the bag at her feet—she certainly was doing an excellent job with this secret. She felt a bit guilty not telling Kingsbury about the artifacts she was carrying around. But she did not want him to turn them around and return to London. She simply needed to keep it a secret until they arrived at Millstone Manor. Then, she would hide the pieces and figure out the plan from there. No reason to ruin a perfectly lovely day with the truth.
After they finished eating, they followed the crowd to the pig races. Fascinated, Adeline stood at the fence bordering the makeshift track.
“The six pigs race to the end of this grassy stretch. You can pick your favorite pig and bet on them to win,” Malcolm said.
“I’ve never bet on anything. How do you know which pig will be fastest?”
He leaned one elbow on the top rung of the fence and smiled down at her. “They’re pigs. I don’t think they have the intelligence to realize they are racing. You shouldn’t overanalyze your choice,” he said with a shrug of one shoulder.
Oh, well, that made sense. Adeline looked over the porcine contestants. “I like that small one.” She pointed to the third lane, where a feisty pink pig snorted and danced around in its cage. “He looks like he would be fast.”
“All right, number three, Speedy Sally. How much would you like to wager?”
“Oh, I approve of the alliteration. Let’s see, how about one pound?” It seemed like a reasonable amount to waste on a pig race.
Malcolm disappeared to make their bets. Adeline felt the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. She glanced around. Everyone around her concentrated on the pigs, but she couldn’t help the feeling she was being watched. She gripped the handles of her carpet bag tightly. She was fine. Kingsbury would be back shortly. She told herself it was natural to feel out of place in a new environment. Her rational thought did not prevent her from jumping when she felt a hand slip around her waist.
“Relax, it’s me,” Kingsbury’s voice rumbled in her ear.
Adeline rolled her eyes; she was being such a ninny. She leaned back against Kingsbury’s chest. The rumble of his chuckle of amusement at her expense strangely soothed her instead of embarrassing her. She was safe.
“Here is your ticket for Speedy Sally. I chose Petunia’s Revenge.” He pointed at a sizeable pig in lane five. “She looks motivated to win.”
A loud voice boomed over the noise of the spectators. “Gentlemen, get ready, get set, go!”
The cage doors flew open, and the pigs meandered out. A very inconspicuous start to the race. But then whistling and cajoling erupted from the finish line. Men at the end of each lane called out to the pigs with scraps of food in their outstretched hands, trying to catch the attention of the racers. The whistling and shouting seemed to work, and several started to walk toward the finish line, including Malcolm’s pig, Petunia.
Adeline was beginning to despair when Speedy Sally looked up and seemed to decide she did wish to race today. She began running down the track. Adeline bounced on her toes. “Go, Sally! That’s it!”
Speedy Sally lived up to her name and raced past all the other pigs toward the finish line. Three others appeared to get into the spirit and started to follow her. Adeline looked over her shoulder at Malcolm. “Look! She’s going to win.”
And indeed, Sally made her way speedily down the course to the waiting arms of her owner, who hugged the pig and fed her a shiny red apple. Adeline turned and beamed up at Kingsbury. “My pig won!”
“Indeed.” He bent and lifted her off her feet in a swift hug. “The odds on Speedy Sally were two to one. So, you have doubled your money.”
Adeline couldn’t stop grinning. She had bet on her first-ever race and won. What an exhilarating five minutes it had been. Malcolm guided her back to the bookie, and they collected her two pounds. As they returned to the main festival area, Malcolm stopped at a table selling nuts. The smell of roasted peanuts filled the air, making her stomach grumble even though she’d eaten not an hour ago. When he came back with the small bag, she reached in and snagged a few.
“You little thief. I demand payment for those nuts.”
Adeline laughed. “Are you angling for my two pounds?”
“No, I am angling for a kiss.”
“What here? In public?” Adeline flushed.
“All right, I will take my payment later.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“You’re incorrigible.” She snatched another small handful of peanuts. “I owe you two now.”
They walked again in companionable silence, munching on roasted peanuts.
Malcolm came to a sudden stop. “Look, a fortune-teller. Let’s go have our future told.” He tugged her by the hand across the aisle to a striped tent.
A striking woman with dark hair and even darker eyes sat behind a table covered in an intricately embroidered tablecloth of greens and blues. The woman had a similarly embroidered shawl around her shoulders.
Adeline frowned. “Kingsbury, fortune-tellers are charlatans,” she whispered.
“I assure you I am no charlatan,” the woman piped up from behind her. “Palmistry is quite an accurate way to gain insight into the past and the future. Come inside and allow me to show you.”
“It will be fun. I’ll go first.” He turned and gave the fortune-teller a wide grin. “Good afternoon, ma’am. How much?”
“One shilling” She held out a jar and accepted Malcolm’s payment. “Please sit. Lay your right hand on the table.”
Malcolm did what he was told. Adeline edged a little closer, curious despite herself. The fortune-teller ran a fingertip over his palm while she murmured under her breath.
After she studied it for a minute, she looked up, her dark eyes piercing. “So much death and sadness. See these deep lines here and here. You have experienced more than your share of loss in this life. But…” She held a finger up. “See here, this is your heartline. Look how long it is. You will live a long, healthy life. And this line represents your connection to others. See how it has many small branches. You will not be lonely. And here, these lines under your pinky finger show how many children you will be blessed with. I count five…no six.”
She slapped his hand and pulled her fingers across it slowly, never breaking eye contact with him. “I sense you have plenty of determination to go after what you want. Strength of conviction, but do not let doubt deter you. You are indeed on the right path to love and building that family.” Her eyes flicked briefly to Adeline. “All done.”
“Thank you.” Malcolm got up and smiled at Adeline. “Your turn.”
“No, thank you,” she replied.
He guided her by the shoulders to the chair. “I have already paid for you. Try something new, Adeline.”
Adeline sat down with a slight huff. She gave the fortune-teller her best polite smile. She didn’t want to be rude. But this was all poppycock.
“Hands, please.” The lady reached for both her hands and placed them on the table, palms facing up. She traced along the lines of her right palm first, as she had with Malcolm’s. “Yes, I see here that your head line is deep, very defined.” Her finger traced across the top of Adeline’s palm. “This means you are intelligent and analytical. But this line here means you have a soft heart. You want to believe the best in people. You are not married yet, yes?”
Adeline shook her head.
“I thought so. See, the knuckles are very stiff and crack easily. Married women have more lubrication of the joints.”
A muffled laugh came from behind Adeline, and she turned to give Malcolm a quizzical look. Why was that funny? She began to feel uncomfortable again. Was this woman teasing her because she did not believe in her craft? Adeline sighed and shifted in her seat. But the fortune-teller did not let go of her hand.
“You have been lonely for a long time.” That statement hit a little close to home. “And here, this cross in your lifeline means you have a choice to make on what path you wish your life to take.”
Didn’t everyone have to make choices in the path of life? That was precisely the kind of general statement that pulled in gullible people.
The lady took Adeline’s hands and carefully examined both palms. “On this hand, see there, is a very unusual pattern.” She leaned more closely to peer at Adeline’s left palm.
Adeline found herself peering down as well. She could almost see a picture in the small lines crisscrossing her hand.
“It is a star, but not just any star, the North Star.” She tapped the center of her palm. “This is a good sign for one who is searching. The North Star will not lead you wrong. Follow it to your new life.” The fortune-teller let go of her hands. “You are done.”
Adeline rose. What a strange fortune. She was to follow the North Star? Like the wise men of old? How silly. When she turned to Kingsbury, she found him strangely quiet, his brow lowered, and his expression thoughtful.
She picked up her carpet bag and slipped her hand in his. “You all right?”
He gave his head a small shake, his expression clearing. “Yes, fine. That was fun, wasn’t it?”
Adeline shrugged.
“Let’s return to the inn to rest before the bonfire this evening.”
As they walked back to the inn down the long cobblestone street, Mr. Bosely approached them from the wheelwright’s shop. “Sir, the wheel on the carriage has been repaired. He is attaching it now around back.”
“Excellent.” Malcolm turned to Adeline. “I’d like to check it myself. Do you mind waiting a few minutes?”
“I don’t mind. I will find myself a sunny spot to sit over there.” She pointed to the garden along the right side of the building. She found a bench amongst the flowers and plopped down with a sigh. The past two days, she had walked more than she had in an average week. She wiggled her toes in her half-boots and, closing her eyes, raised her face to the meager sunshine that peeked in and out from behind clouds.
A large hand gripped her arm. Adeline’s eyes popped open as she was dragged to her feet. She didn’t recognize the man before her, but his grip squeezed her arm painfully. She was in trouble.
He leaned close, his breath rancid. “Your father is looking for you, Lady Amberley.”
Adeline tugged against his grip. “I don’t know who you are talking about.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “He said you were a clever one. No, we’ve been waiting all day for your bodyguard to leave you alone. You got the stuff in there?” He pointed at her carpet bag lying on the grass by the bench. He tugged her roughly against him, her arm pinned behind her back. “And don’t lie. You don’t want to see me get mad.”
“You can have it. Take the bag.” Adeline’s voice wavered.
His eyes were the palest watery blue, so transparent it was as if he didn’t have a soul behind them. The shiver that ran down her spine woke her instincts to fight. Lucy’s session on self-defense, given so enthusiastically to Adeline and Violet last year, played through her head.
Adeline raised her booted foot and stomped on his instep, eliciting a grunt. Twisting her body, she rammed her elbow into his stomach. Unfortunately, this just made her attacker angry, and he shook her like a rag doll. Genuine fear began to make her stomach roil. But Lucy’s voice rang out clear in her head. Scream for help! Adeline opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could. She pulled at his strong grip. She would not be taken back to her father. She wasn’t going anywhere with this soulless blue-eyed devil.
“Stop that,” he growled.
Adeline screwed her eyes shut and screamed as loud as she could again. Then, suddenly the man’s punishing grip was gone. Adeline stumbled backward. The hired thug crumpled at her feet.
“Adeline!” Malcolm came running around the building. He scooped her against him. “What’s happened? Are you hurt?”
She reached out and touched his face so glad he was here. But what had happened to her attacker? Spinning around, she came face to face with another man. He stood with one boot on her attacker’s back, a short club grasped in his hand.
He tipped his cap. “Glad I could be of help, Lady Amberley.”
Her mouth gaped. She looked back at Malcolm.
He ran his fingers down her cheek. “Are you all right, Adeline? Talk to me.”
“He wanted to take me back to my father. He wanted…” Adeline rushed over to her bag and snatched it up.
Malcolm swore under his breath. “I didn’t think he’d be after us so quickly. George said he could handle your father.”
Adeline studied the man who had come to her rescue. Fair-haired and dressed like a gentleman, it was the club he held so casually that caught her attention.
This man was not who he seemed. “Thank you for coming to my aid. I don’t know how I can repay you.”
“I do. You see, I also have an interest in the contents of your bag. Can I please see it?”
Adeline clutched it to her chest. “Absolutely not,” she said.
“I must insist.” The man pulled a small pistol from his pocket and cocked it.
Malcolm’s long arm reached for her and pulled her to his side. He held out a hand. “Let’s all be reasonable.”
The pistol pointed straight and steady at Malcolm’s chest. “Pass me the bag,” the man demanded.
Adeline stared at the barrel of the pistol and then up at the elegantly dressed thief’s face. His eyes were gray as a stormy day but held no malice. His gaze was steady and confident, like a man used to being obeyed. He would not back down, she feared. She would bet that this was not his first time holding someone at gunpoint.
She glanced at Malcolm, who vibrated with anger next to her. His green eyes blazed with it. Oh dear . There was only one way to protect him from acting rashly and getting himself killed. Adeline threw her bag over to the man with the weapon.
“Thank you for being reasonable, Lady Amberley.” He crouched slowly, keeping the pistol trained on Malcolm, and opened her bag with the other hand.
“How do you know my name?”
“Your father is not the only one looking for the contents of your bag, my lady. And I am not the only one following you today.” He straightened with the porcelain statue of Artemis in his hand. To her horror, he used the butt of the pistol to smash the statue.
“No!” She surged forward, but Malcolm’s strong arm wound around her waist, keeping her against him.
The thief reached into the hollow cavity of what was left of the statue and pulled out a roll of parchment. He unrolled it, glanced quickly at what it said, then let it roll back up before tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket. He slid the pistol back into a leather holster under his arm and then grabbed his club from the ground. He tipped his hat again. “Good day.”
“Wait, that’s all you want from the bag?”
“Yes.” He glanced down at her carpet bag. “I don’t deal in stolen items…anymore.”
He didn’t want the golden crosses? Was he simply going to leave? “You are not going to shoot us?”
The thief laughed low and gravelly. “You’re good friends with Lady Hartwick, correct?”
Adeline nodded.
“I wouldn’t dare. Oh,” He looked directly at Malcolm. “He’s not the last of them. Two more are waiting at the Red Fox Tavern for him to return with your lady.” Then he turned and strolled out of the garden. Taking a left on the street, he disappeared.
Adeline slumped back against Malcolm. Her head was spinning. She had almost been murdered. Her father knew she had taken the artifacts. He had sent strangers, thugs, after her.
The thug at her feet groaned.
Malcolm took her hand, guiding her around the man on the ground. Malcolm scooped up her bag, and then quickly led her back to the street. He turned left and began to stride down the walkway.
“Malcolm, where are we going?” she asked.
“To the inn.”
“The inn is the other way.” She pointed over her shoulder.
“Damnation,” he muttered. They changed direction. Malcolm was walking far too fast for her short legs, but she didn’t dare complain. She wanted to get to the safety of her room as soon as possible. Plus, based on the stiff set of his shoulders and the scowl on his face, she was in big trouble.