For several moments the only sounds heard in the parlor were the ticking of the clock on the mantel, the crackle of the fire in the grate, and the slowly subsiding sobs of a little girl. The large man helplessly patted and rubbed the child’s back until the sobs slowed to an occasional hiccup and then ceased. Finally, Chrissy lifted her head from her uncle’s shoulder and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
Swiftly Leona pressed a handkerchief into her hand, winning a faint smile from Chrissy.
“Thank you,” she murmured, then sniffed. She looked up into the concerned face of her uncle and then into Leona’s. Her lips compressed, then her tongue slipped out to touch her upper lip just as Leona saw it do last night. She slid off her uncle’s lap toher feet, carefully shaking out the folds of Leona’s old dress that Maria had hastily altered for her.
“Miss Leonard, I’d like you to meet my uncle, the Honorable Nigel Deveraux,” she said slowly and carefully as she’d been taught. “Uncle Nigel, this is Miss Leonard.”
A proud smile curved up the corners of Nigel Deveraux’s lips as he rose to his feet to treat the introduction with all the solemnity with which his niece had endowed it. Uncomfortable with his towering presence, Leona rose as well.
“I saw the local magistrate when I stopped at the inn to ask directions. He told me of your actions last evening.” His dark voice rumbled along Leona’s nerve endings like an approaching thunderstorm. Though spoken calmly enough, his words held a wild electricity that crackled in the air between them. Leona felt her breath tighten in her chest.
“She was wonderful, Uncle Nigel,” Chrissy enthused. “She melted a candle on the door hinges to keep them from squeaking and made shoes for me out of a woolen cloak. Then we ran through the woods as fast as we could.”
Leona felt color rise in her cheeks. “Chrissy, please! It was nothing. I only did what had to be done.” Disconcerted, she sat down again and fumbled with her handkerchief to blow her nose, missing the quick frown that came and went from Nigel’s face. He sat down again and pulled Chrissy onto his lap, anchoring her firmly against him with a broad, well-defined hand.
There was something about his manner that unsettled Leona. He was polite enough. Perhaps that was it—he was too polite, too distant toward her, while toward Chrissy there were evident close bonds of love and affection. Leona had not expected him to show love and affection toward herself, but a modicum of respect and gratitude toward the person who rescued his niece would surely not be out of place!
Unless he didn’t want her rescued.
Nonsense. She banished that thought from her head. His feelings for Chrissy were too genuine to desire her abduction. Maybe he was naturally a taciturn man around strangers.
Or perhaps he thinks me involved with the kidnapping.
Tensely she admitted to herself that that was not beyond the realm of possibility. Leona’s blood ran cold at the thought. Chrissy was held on Leonard property, property heavily encumbered and in need of cash. Furthermore, the Norths had very conveniently managed to escape sometime during the night or early morning hours. The evidence, though circumstantial, could be damning.
Leona slowly raised her head to stare at Deveraux whispering to his niece and earning giggles in return. He must have sensed her regard, for he looked up at her. The rough planes of his face appeared formed of granite. His black brows pulled together, and his eyes narrowed until only slivers of blue ice gleamed from behind the coal-black fringe of his lashes. Instantly Leona understood what Chrissy meant. Nigel Deveraux would not be a man to cross. And he suspected her of wrongdoing!
CHAPTER 3
The thought numbedLeona. Fragments of questions and suspicions raced through her mind, but complete thoughts remained elusive. For a heartbeat lasting an eternity, she simply stared at him.
She was innocent!
How could he suspect her? Easily. But if she bristled, he’d likely call that proof. Far better, she decided, to understand him superficially, to avoid the treacherous undercurrents and navigate down the center of the channel. Unfortunately, her rational mind did not hold sway. It was falling before stampeding emotion.
Never had she felt so condemned. Near hysterical laughter welled up in her throat. She would not let it overwhelm her! Ruthlessly she clamped down on the rising emotional tide. Questions. Commonplaces. They could pull her away from treacherous waters. She looked up at him brightly, smiling like a Bedlamite as she pulled her scattered senses together, searching through the emotional rocks for a safe harbor.
“Did you by any chance bring clothes for Chrissy? I’m afraid the sack-like dress she is wearing was the best we could find for her on short notice. Unfortunately, we have no shoes thatwould fit her. Did you bring any shoes? If not, I suppose I could ask Mrs. Thrailwithe. Her daughter Dorinda is only two or three years older than Chrissy. She may have shoes or boots to fit.”
Now she was babbling, running on like a fiddlestick! With chagrin, Leona bit down on her lower lip.
“That won’t be necessary, Miss Leonard. I have a portmanteau strapped to my horse. Mother insisted I cool my heels for fifteen minutes while she packed it.”
A faint smile turned up his lips to compliment his deliberate attempt at humor. “I have every confidence it will contain more than Chrissy requires. Furthermore, my friend Mr. Fitzhugh follows me to Crawfords Dean in our carriage. It will meet us at the Golden Goose. I have faith it, too, will be loaded with needless amenities.”
Again that tantalizing ghost of a smile.
Chrissy squirmed around in his lap to face him. “David’s coming?”
Mr. Deveraux looked down at his niece, smiling. This smile broadened until it lit his eyes, changing them from hard-cut gems to the softness of bluebells—the change unnerved Leona.
“Could you doubt it, poppet? I vow that if you were ten years older, it would be you he’d marry rather than Lucy.”
Chrissy giggled. “That’s silly. He’s too old.”
He tickled her ribs. “Old! He’s thirty! I’ll have you remember, minx, that he and I are of the same age,” he growled playfully.
Leona was surprised to discover his age to be thirty. He had looked far older when he entered the cottage; but now, seeing him play with his niece and seeing some of the tension leave his face, the years visibly fell away revealing a boyish charm.
