He gave a dark grin and nodded. ‘Though I wish to God it wasn’t.’
As they got closer, Mercy realised the house was in dire need of renovation. Even in the early morning half-light, she could see that the roof was sagging and some of the windows were boarded up. The area directly around the house had been cleared, but the rest of what had probably been formal gardens had been left to grow wild. The melting snow revealed glimpses of a carpet of wild bluebells.
She glanced over at him. ‘Welcome to Carlingford Hall,’ he murmured with a mocking bow.
She looked back at the mellow red brick wondering how it had come to be in such a sorry condition – clearly Nate Harding did not have the funds to do the necessary repairs. While she studied it, the sagging roof and missing windows became even more evident as the sun began to peep through the trees as it started above the horizon. It was beautiful, but sad.
‘The stable’s this way,’ he growled, leading Duchess to the left and leaving Mercy to follow. As they walked, a sudden noise in the undergrowth preceded the arrival of his small dog. She’d been missing for the last half a mile and with the blood around her muzzle, it looked as though she’d been off catching her breakfast.
‘What your dog’s name?’ she asked, running to catch up.
‘Ruby,’ he answered shortly.
‘Have you had her long?’ Mercy persisted, walking beside him.
‘Since she was a pup.’ His answer was brusque, and she realised he didn’t want her questions. Too bad. If he’d not wanted her to know anything about him, he shouldn’t have offered his help. Still, she subsided for now. Even if everything went according to their admittedly vague plan, it would likely be a couple of days before her father turned up. There was plenty of time, and she had to admit to being extremely curious about her gruff champion.
The stable appeared in much better repair than the house, giving another indication of the man’s concern for the welfare of his animals. Indeed, it was another half an hour before he had the mare bedded down to his satisfaction while Mercy sat on the floor and watched. He hadn’t suggested she went into the house without him, and she began to wonder just how bad it might be inside.
At length, he slung the panniers over his shoulder and picked up her bag before turning to towards her with a muttered, ‘Follow me.’ Without answering, Mercy climbed wearily to her feet and followed him as he retraced their steps back to the front of the house. Rounding the corner, she saw the house clearly for thefirst time. Despite its shabby appearance, the house exuded a sense of peace, the like of which she’d never experienced before. Without thinking, she stopped and stared. Not realising she was no longer behind him, Nate continued on to the large front door, putting the bag down and pulling the key out of his pocket.
After pushing the door open, he finally turned, only to see she was still a distance away. Entirely mistaking the reason she’d stopped, he frowned. ‘You have nothing to fear,’ he stated flatly. ‘You have my word that you will come to no harm in my house.’
Mercy blinked and started towards him. ‘I know,’ was all she said when she finally reached the door. For long seconds, they stared at each other, and Mercy’s heart began thudding erratically. She abruptly realised that she no longer even noticed his scar. Indeed, her only thought at that moment was what would happen if he kissed her.
Chapter Seven
‘What the hell do you mean she didn’t get in the carriage?’
‘I’m tellin’ you she weren’t there. The vicar and his missus got in, but she din’t.’
Reinhardt swore. Had she somehow got wind of his plan? But how was that possible. He should never have talked to that damn priest. And his bloody arrogance in giving the pastor his real name could well come back to bite him.
‘Search these premises. I don’t care what excuse you use, just do it. If she’s hiding anywhere in this building, I expect you to find her. How long ago did the carriage leave?’
‘About ten minutes ago milord.’
‘And the others are already in place?’
His companion nodded. ‘All but me and Smiffy.’
‘Send Smith to give them a message. They should remain where they are, but they are to let the carriage pass without interference if I’m not there. They are to donothing– is that clear?’ Another nod.
Dismissing his companion, Reinhardt gritted his teeth. There was too much at stake to give up at the first hurdle. There was no way the chit could have learned about his intentions. He’d spoken to no one except his cohorts and the priest. Feverishly, he thought back to his actions over the last couple of days, and his mind flitted back to the conversation in the stable last evening. Frowning, he thought back, going over the short meeting in the minutest detail.
He’d believed the stable empty but recalled the restless stamping of one of the horses. He’d ignored it at the time, thinking the horse’s agitation was due to their unexpected presence. But what if there had been someone else there? Someone hiding behind the beast?
They would have heard everything.
Reinhardt swore again and aimed a frustrated kick at the chamber pot sitting next to the bed. The pot smashed against the door scattering pieces across the bedchamber. Fortunately, the pot had been empty. The knowledge that he could have spread piss all over the floor stopped him in his tracks. He needed to get a bloody grip. Letting his temper get the better of him wouldn’t do.
He went over to the small desk and poured himself a brandy from the bottle he’d had brought up the evening before. Swallowing it in one fiery mouthful, he felt immediately calmer. Pouring himself another, he sat down in the armchair. If someone had indeed overheard his conversation with Davy in the stable, then the cat was out of the bag and there was nothing he could do about that. Clearly, the carriage was on its way to Cottesmore, which meant its occupants believed their charge to be safe. Had they put her in another coach? Sending her to her father by a different route? Reinhardt narrowed his eyes, takinga sip of his brandy. Not alone certainly. He needed to question the stable hands as to whether any other carriages had left the inn either late last night or early this morning and if so, who they belonged to.
The priest would undoubtedly be desperate to inform Stanhope of what had transpired. Murdering all the occupants of the carriage would certainly prevent that, but unless he tortured the information out of them first, he wouldn’t discover the chit’s whereabouts. Not to mention the fact that trying to force the information out of them would likely take far too long. By the time they confessed, Mercedes Stanhope would have arrived back in the bosom of her loving father and if he was caught, he’d almost certainly hang.
At the moment, he doubted they had any proof of his intention other than an overheard conversation. It would take them the best part of the day to reach Cottesmore and the Earl, which meant he had the rest of the day to track the bitch down. If he failed to abduct the chit, it was a setback, nothing more.
Reinhardt finished his brandy and stood up. Christian Stanhope might be aware he was coming, but the bastard couldn’t be on his guard twenty-four hours a day, and ultimately, it would simply make the outcome that much sweeter.
