Shivering and tentative, she pressed her form into him, his jacket that she wore, opened and her full breasts flattened against the wet silk of his shirt. Shyly, she moved her hands up his chest, and without guile, her fingers continued upward until they stroked the dark hair at his nape. Stunned by the force of the need pulsating through his blood, he had to stop this madness before it went any further, before he pinned her to the mud like a beast. Rachel was his sister’s friend. Stop.Now.
Growling from deep in his throat, he tore his mouth away and stared into her passion-drugged eyes. “I have to end this before I do something I regret.” He touched her cheek with his forefinger, tracing the elegant curve of her cheekbone. How he adored her spirit, her freshness. She was warmth and awakening passion, headstrong and sweet, loyal, intelligent and witty.His pearl beyond price.
The rumble of a wagon, thundering around the bend caused them both to turn. The dog snapped at the wagon’s wheels until the driver braked his team. It was one of his father’s trusted tenants.
“Lord Anthony? Heard a gunshot.” He narrowed his eyes at their tied-up quarry. “Glad I wasn’t at the end of those fists of yours. Happy I came along. I imagine you’ll want help, throwing them in the back and a ride home.”
Chapter Twelve
The horrid events of the past few hours surfaced a new kind of panic. That she had revealed the secret of her near defilement to Anthony. That he had kissed her. Suddenly she wanted to dive beneath the covers of her bed, plant a pillow over her head and force out the chaos surrounding her. Pretending that she had no time for emotion, for grief, for guilt, for responsibility, only the crisis facing the Rutlands to block the dissonance of her thoughts.
If that could ever happen.
She had taken a bath, changed into a clean dress, and now welcomed the radiating warmth of a stoked fire in the library to thaw out her bones. Aunt Margaret snored in a wingback chair. To tuck her toes beneath her skirts and join Anthony’s charming aunt had appeal for she was barely able to keep her eyelids open.
“The highway men are being questioned. One of my hired guards was a former army sergeant and very good at convincing them that the accuracy of their truth is critical,” said the Duke, his voice firm and solid.
“I don’t think you will get much out of them,” said Anthony. “They didn’t seem to know about the carriage, but maybe they witnessed something that might prove helpful.”
“What did the man in the village who accosted you look like?”
The Duke pulled Rachel from her musings. Adding details, she’d forgotten, she restated his description. “He had a skeletal face and his body seemed wasted away, red cap, a coarse Simian nose that sniffed every which way for wandering odors, moist black eyes that protruded out of pouched pockets and darted all over the place.”
Anthony nodded, his aquiline jaw working in frustrated circles as though chewing on a thought. “Any of your tenants who fit that description?” he asked his father.
“Not one that I can think of,” said the Duke. “I will have someone investigate.”
“Could it be” Rachel pulled Anthony back to the past.
“Interesting,” Anthony nodded.
“I’m not following,” said the Duke.
“A relative of Percy Devol, the man who had kidnapped Abby?” Anthony explained. “You think the culprit who sawed the axle”
“Sure…strangely and” She stopped short, his meaning registered. “Killed your assistant?”
“It would explain a lot,” Anthony said. “I’ve been thinking of the precision of the carriage axle being sawed…how long it had taken, over rough roads, someone had timed it before, practiced it even.
Puzzled by this last point…how long had it taken, Rachel asked, “And where did the coach driver go? What about the stable master?”
“The stable master was found tied up in the back of the stables,” said Anthony’s father. He received a whack on the head and was out cold. He didn’t see or hear anyone.”
The butler came into the room followed by a footman with trays of hot tea, scones, sandwiches and a large plate of cream puffs. Dreaming of the delicate pastry, Rachel eyed the arranged plate, her stomach rumbling with an unladylike sound. She groaned. Even a crumb would be a feast.
“As you wished.” A sliver of knowing mischief slipped into his smile, and her heart increased in tempo.
The footman poured her tea into a delicate china cup, the loveliest shade of cobalt blue and bordered with a bright gold.
When the footman finished serving, the Duke nodded for his dismissal.
Sebastian, the butler closed the doors and returned.
“Please tell us what you have learned, Sebastian,” said Anthony’s father.
“Your Grace, there is not much we were able to get from the highwaymen. They are East Londoners, had nothing to do with the carriage accident, or George’s demise. The sergeant was very thorough. The territory they employed for their nefarious business dealings in East London proved competitive, forcing them to search new and available pickings, on your estate. The ill-fated circumstance was that they ran into Lord Anthony. No one local would have taken on his lordship.”
“Thank you for your confidence, Sebastian,” said Anthony.
