‘Henry has him?’ The look of horror on Benjamin Atwood’s face was entirely unfeigned and persuaded her that on this occasion at least, the Admiral was not party to his son’s heinous plan.
She opened her mouth to speak but the Admiral’s wife got there first.
‘No,’ she hissed, striding over to her husband. ‘That is alie.’ Her face was twisted, and spittle flew from her lips as she spoke. ‘My son would never harm his cousin,never.’
Grace stared at the furious woman. Here then was her true danger. She thought briefly back to little Peter. Never underestimate the loyalty of a mother to her child. Clearly Mrs Atwood had not known that her son had harmed his cousin, not once but twice.
While Grace had no doubt that Henry Atwood’s intention was to finally do away with Gabriel once and for all and possibly Hope with him, it was becoming increasingly apparent that neither of his parents had been aware that their nephew was very much alive before she’d enlightened them. Mayhap she could use their ignorance to her advantage.
‘If Gabriel is not here,’ she risked, ‘then it is certain he and my sister are being held at Northwood Court.’
Caroline Atwood continued to shake her head, glaring at Grace, her entire body exuding resentment and animosity. The Admiral on the other hand appeared to have somehow caved in on himself and now simply looked wearied unto death.
She took a deep breath and focused her attention on the broken man in front of her. ‘Were you aware that Henry attempted to murder Gabriel in cold blood while they were in Cadiz?’ she questioned bluntly. He did not need to answer, his eyes clearly told her that he was, but everything about him now indicated overwhelming regret.
Not so his wife.
‘How dare you come here with your vile accusations,’ she raged, storming up to Grace and taking hold of her arm.
‘Remove your hands from my personimmediately,’ returned Grace in the coldest voice she could muster.
‘Or what?’ Caroline Atwood shot back savagely. ‘What are you going to doyour grace?’ Looking into the woman’s furious eyes, Grace was truly afraid for the first time. She glanced over at the Admiral who simply stood there, almost trance like.
Her heart beating frantically, Grace attempted to twist away from the woman’s vicelike grip, but despite impression of frailty, Mrs Atwood was strong, and she was unable to free herself.
‘Does the Duke even know you are here?’ the vile woman questioned Grace, eyes narrowing in the sudden realisation that the Duchess may have come here without her husband’s knowledge.
‘Her husband may not be aware of his wife’s impulsive actions, but I deuced well am.’
Percy had clearly not succeeded in discouraging the Reverend from his partiality for dramatic entrances.
And truly, Grace had never been so grateful.
∞∞∞
Once they’d left the inn, with the horses newly fresh, Nicholas and Malcolm made excellent time, arriving at Northwood Court well before lunch. The day was cold and blustery which kept all but the most determined firmly indoors. From the admittedly small section they could see from their vantage point aside a crumbling part of the wall surrounding the estate, there did not appear to be any movement inside the house, but the Duke was of the opinion that the lack of activity did not mean that Gabriel and Hope were not being held inside.
They had no way of knowing whether their messages had reached the intended ears of Adam and Roan but were nevertheless hoping that additional aid was on the way. However, whether help was coming or not, both men knew they would have no choice but to act once a suitable opportunity presented itself.
So, they waited and watched.
Chapter Twenty Two
Hope lay curled up in Gabriel’s arms and wondered how she could feel so absurdly happy given their horrific circumstances. She recalled Temperance, always the most gregarious of her sisters, describing the act of love between her and Adam as being, ‘wondrous beyond anything she’d ever experienced.’ Right up until half an hour ago, she’d simply thought her sister moonstruck. Indeed, Hope truly believed Tempy’s pursuit of the Earl of Ravenstone to be shockingly beyond the pale. But that was thirty minutes ago.
Now, here she was lying on a cold hard floor with a man she’d known only weeks and for the moment nothing mattered but the two of them. Naturally, she was pragmatic enough to know that her euphoria would not last, but for now, she kept the fear at bay by focusing entirely on the man in whose arms she lay, and more scandalously, on the delicious sensations he’d evoked within her.
Gabriel for his part felt no euphoria. Indeed, his feelings could be more accurately described as dread, the like of which he’d never suffered before. Making love to Hope had taken him to heights he’d previously only dreamt of. But not only had it intensified the strong feelings he already had for her, but also the terror of losing the woman he’d realised almost too late was the love of his life.
Now, more than ever, he was determined put an end to his bastard of a cousin. But more than that, he finally had something to live for. Something beyond a title and the bricks and mortar that went with it. Indeed, he now truly had a reason to survive beyond the length of time it took to make Henry pay for his heinous crimes.
And it terrified him.
Stroking Hope’s hair, he pressed a soft kiss onto her forehead. ‘We need to rearrange ourselves,’ he murmured reluctantly. ‘Should Henry become certain that we’re more than simply acquaintances, he will seek to use the knowledge to his advantage.’
Sighing, Hope lifted her face to his. ‘I wish we could stay like this forever,’ she whispered sadly. Gabriel’s answer was to bend his head and place another kiss on her lips. ‘Me too,’ he breathed, ‘but I think our stomachs would eventually have something to say on the matter.’
In answer, Hope’s stomach gave an obliging growl and Gabriel gave a low chortle. Reluctantly disentangling them both, he helped her struggle into a sitting position. ‘Truly, it’s not just my stomach that’s aching,’ Hope grimaced softly, ‘it seems as if every bone and muscle in my entire body is rising up in protest.’
