Chapter 14 #2
Truth be told, she was a little afraid to meet Mr Montfort. A woman travelling alone with Hugh, staying at Stonefold. What conclusions would he draw? More importantly, would Hugh object to them?
“No need. I’m meeting him near Headley Heath. I’ll explain once we’re on the road.”
Mrs Fenwick coughed to get their attention. “No doubt you’ll want that description of those who came looking for the lady.” She finished scribbling on a scrap of paper and handed it to Emma.
She scanned the notes. The man was elderly with a gentle manner. Emma thought of the vicar. The woman—widow’s weeds, black veil pulled low, a bonnet that hid her hair—could have been anyone.
The ambiguity ought to have frustrated her. Instead, she felt strangely relieved. She was in no hurry to solve this case. Every unanswered question bought her a little more time.
Mrs Fenwick nodded to the paper. “That means we’re done here. You’ll get nothing else from me.”
“If you happen to correspond with Vienna Mallory,” Hugh said, “remind her an innocent man has spent years paying for a crime he didn’t commit.”
Emma handed Hugh the note, and they made to leave.
Mrs Fenwick let them reach the door before speaking.
“Be careful who you trust, dear.” She settled back on the stool. “Remember, I can make you disappear for a pretty penny.”
Shadowmere
Kingston upon Thames
Shadowmere emerged from the afternoon mist like an illustration ripped from a gothic novel. Its towers reached above the trees, and its weathered stone gave no hint that ordinary people lived there.
Emma tore her attention from the gargoyles and glanced at Hugh through the open carriage door. “If this house is anything like its owner, I’m a little afraid to meet Mr Hawke.”
Hugh smiled as he handed her down to the ground, utterly at ease beneath Shadowmere’s grim parapets. “You did call Hawke the devil. He won’t hold it against you. His bark is worse than his bite.”
“You told him?”
“I keep nothing from my closest friends.”
“What will he think of me?”
“Don’t worry. His wife calls him worse.”
“I’m not sure that’s reassuring.”
Hugh placed his hand at her back and bent his head. “Hawke will be easy to manage. You’ve learnt to handle me.”
That wasn’t quite true. She was still trying to understand this man. The strange look in his eyes. The accidental touches. The way he said no when he meant yes.
“We’ll stay here tonight,” he added. “Tomorrow, we’ll visit the address on Bellingham’s note. Long Ditton is only three miles away.”
She glanced at the imposing facade, praying she wouldn’t be given a bed at the end of some draughty corridor. There would be no midnight meetings in the library. No sharing more than a drink in a storm.
Hugh was already at the large oak door, tugging the bell pull.
She joined him and waited.
He rang again, then knocked twice.
“Were you expecting him to be at home?”
“Hawke is home. We’ve the meeting near Headley Heath tonight. He’d sooner miss his own funeral.”
He still hadn’t explained the nature of the meeting. Only a vague mention of friends, a ruined abbey and a secret they’d shared for years. Mr Saint-Clair was the fugitive. That much she knew.
He pressed his ear to the door, careful of the iron studs. “Where the hell are Ramsey and Beattie?” Tired of waiting, he took hold of her hand. “Come. We’ll walk round to the mews. We’ll find someone there.”
They were halfway down the steps when the hatch opened.
“Bloody hell, Stanton,” came a grumble from the hall beyond. The door opened to reveal a tall man whose neck looked as wide as his thigh, his hair a deep shade of sunset. “Did you not try the handle?”
“And have Beattie shoot me for trespassing?”
The fellow laughed. “Perhaps you’re right. I’ve never known Beattie miss a target.” His gaze fell on Emma and he frowned.
“Ramsey, meet Miss Vane.” He offered no explanation of who Mr Ramsey was. “She’s helping me with a current investigation.”
“Still haven’t learnt the name of that meddler, Miss Pious Pen?” Mr Ramsey grinned as he beckoned them inside. “Got you nosing about, has he, Miss Vane? Looking for his mysterious stalker.”
“I am his mysterious stalker, sir, though Mr Stanton has revised his assessment. He no longer thinks me pious.”
The smile Hugh gave her did strange things to her pulse. “My meddler was right to question my account. She’s been right about everything since the night she held me at gunpoint.”
“Gunpoint? Wait till I tell Beattie.” Mr Ramsey was clutching his sides now, the bark of his laugh ringing through the house. Emma didn’t laugh along with him. There was only one thing on her mind. The possessive way Hugh had said my meddler.
“I trust Hawke is at home.” Hugh guided her through the vast hall, its crimson walls and dark oak panels swallowing the light. He glanced at the gilt-framed paintings of naked sea nymphs. “I thought Daphne preferred country landscapes.”
“Mrs Hawke likes the nymphs. Shame the same can’t be said for the bedchambers.” As if on cue, banging rang upstairs. “Hope you’re not planning on staying the night. Beattie’s up there with his list, barking orders at the workmen. Half the house is stripped to plaster.”
“There must be a room to spare.”
“Only one room you need, is it?” Mr Ramsey looked between them.
Emma felt the warmth rise in her neck and tried not to look at the nymphs.
Hugh cleared his throat. “I’m not averse to sleeping on the sofa. There’s the cottage. We can stay there.”
“The drive must have addled your brain. Hawke would sooner give up Shadowmere than have anyone sleeping in that bed.”
Hugh turned to her. “Daphne lived in the cottage before they were married. They’re rather attached to it. But I’m—”
Feminine laughter echoed through the corridor to their left. The hurried pad of footsteps followed. “I said fifty. You’ve barely counted to twenty.”
“You’d better run,” came the husky male voice.
“No, Dominic. That’s hardly fair.”
“I’m the Prince of Darkness. Fair isn’t in my vocabulary.”
The lady burst into the hall. Her dark hair hung loose about her shoulders. Her feet were bare, but it was the reckless defiance in her eyes that proved captivating.
“Oh, you’re in trouble,” her pursuer said.
She caught sight of them and came to a crashing halt. Before she could draw breath, a man pounced, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck.