It wasn’t right. It simply wasn’t right. And she shouldn’t be caught up in Rake work, no matter what.
Maybe, Beau thought, striding past the small Dower House stables and off beyond the oak woods, there was something he could do. Maybe he could prevent worse happening to her. Lock her away in Delamere. Lock her away in the Antipodes. He would use this walk to come up with something.
For fifteen minutes he wandered aimlessly over the acres painted in autumnal sleep trying to think of a way to protect Pip from her own impetuousness. From his irrational resentment. From the danger he still felt lurking in a house party. From his emotions that had been on a wild swing since the moment he had first walked in the door and seen her. They kept coming close to amity between them. But the path was still too rocky, the pitfalls subtle and hidden to too easily stumbled over.
He wanted peace. He wanted vengeance for Theo. He wanted the pain to end. And just by being Pip, she complicated all of it.
As if to punctuate the need and his own failure, when he was returning to the Dower House fifteen minutes later, he caught sight of a horse and rider heading out to the pastureland above the estate. One look, even though he shouldn’t have been close enough to identify her, and he knew it was his wife bent over that magnificent bay hunter urging her on. And damn if she wasn’t riding astride in breeches, the little devil.
If it had been any other rider, he would have been terrified. But he’d known since she was ten that Pip was an exceptional rider, a horsewoman in her very bones. He knew that whereas he walked off conflict, she rode.
He saw her now, her hair glowing like a nimbus around her head, her body fluid and elegant, and he was quite forcefully reminded that this was who Pip was. Who sheshouldbe. Unfettered and courageous, not constrained by expectations, restraints, social norms.
He stood still out in the middle of the back garden watching her streak away and remembering the explosions that lithe, sweet body had set off in his own. From one minute to the next, he was rock hard and hungry, and he knew better. Because it couldn’t come to anything, not really. Not if he wanted to protect her. And he did.
Pip deserved better than to survive life with him, with his aunt and uncle who would never come to appreciate her. She deserved a real family. And he had none to give. If only he knew how to protect that rare life, that singular light that animated her from within. If only he knew how to protect her from what he had become.
And then, as if to emphasize how delicate the situation was right now, he caught sight of movement by the old stand of oaks. A man. Not a servant. He was too well-dressed. But not someone Beau recognized from the house party. Medium sized, medium build, medium color. Eminently forgettable. The kind of watcher that set off alarm bells in Beau’s head.
For a moment, the man stood still, his attention on the horse and rider that had just disappeared over the hill. Then he simply turned around and walked off in the direction of the manor house.
Beau’s first thought was that the man knew about Pip’s discoveries. That he would hurt her. He had obviously been waiting there and was leaving upon seeing her. But if he’d wanted to attack her, he had the perfect opportunity. Instead, he walked away. As if maybe, he was assessing her place in the scheme of things.
Maybe Beau had been playing this game too long, but he couldn’t help thinking that someone might be assessing his wife for her importance to him. For her value as a threat. A hostage.
Bloody hell. Now what did he do?
Turning on his heel, he strode back to the Dower House. He could worry about Pip’s future later. Right now, he was very afraid he had to worry about her immediate safety.
* * *
Beau fearedthat by the time he walked back into the house, Drake would have been long since back at the party—or back in London. Instead, he found him where he’d left him, casually reading one of the books from the shelves—the history of the Plantagenets, the best he could see—and sipping at his brandy, leg crossed, looking lazy and unmoved, as if the most important thing he had to do was relax for an autumn afternoon.
Catching sight of a rather windblown Beau, Drake lifted his head and offered a mild smile. “She said you’d be back in exactly thirty minutes.” Flipping open his watch, he nodded. “On the nose.”
Beau didn’t bother to answer. He just refilled his half-drunk brandy and began to pace. “Do you know where she is now, my new wife? Riding that mad horse of hers like she was at Newmarket. Evidently, stealing vital information from enemies isn’t quite exciting enough for her, which I should have anticipated. I may find myself forced to lock her in her room.”
Drake tilted his head in consideration. “For a man only a few hours married, don’t you think you’re a bit harsh on your wife?”
Beau looked out the window, but for the moment there was nothing to see but bare trees and rolling green fields. “Not if it keeps her safe. Someone besides me was watching her ride. Someone who looked just a bit too…forgettable. Someone not from the party.”
Drake closed his book. “You think he waited outside on the off chance he would see your wife?”
“I don’t know. He did seem very interested in her. Is it too unbelievable to think that someone is searching out my vulnerabilities? Or that they never bought the scene in the library? What if they suspect Pip?”
Sighing, Drake rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Why could this not all be simple? I cannot put off my trip to London to help. What would you want me to do?”
Beau shook his head. “Talk to the duchess. She will know which of her staff to trust. I would far rather take Pip away from here somewhere safe. Maybe Canada.”
“Not until I can get someone else down here to replace you.”
Beau sighed. “I’m too afraid of that bad habit she has of getting involved.”
“Then maybe we should completely fill her in.”
“No!” Beau stopped in his tracks. “I will tell her enough to convince her to cooperate. Beyond that, she could be a liability.”
She could be in more danger.
