“I would like to avoid dropping down in full view of Hammerton, as there’s no telling how he might react …” He left the sentence unfinished. “We can’t tell from here how the house is situated.”
He thought for a moment, then began to move around to where the gnarled apples trees hanging over the top of the wall afforded some cover— as well as a means for scaling its height. Stopping at one of the studier trunks, he stripped off his coat, stuck the pistol between his teeth and began to climb. Once on the top of the wall, he sprawled flat on his stomach and slithered ahead over the moss and twigs for several yards.
After assuring himself that their presence had raised no alarm, he motioned for Justin to come up as well.
They were opposite the left side of the hunting box. A squat, two story structure, it had only a few small windows facing in their direction, and those appeared to have their curtains drawn. Satisfied, Branford swung his legs over the side and dropped to the ground.
Damnation.Branford hesitated. Sweat beaded his brow, and his breathing was a bit ragged from the physical effort. He paused for a moment by a thick oak, leaning up against its sturdy bulk for a moment to marshal his strength.
Justin came up behind him. “Are you all right?” he whispered, staring at the small patch of crimson that has stained the earl’s shirt.
Branford nodded curtly. “I’m fine—but be advised that I’m getting too old for this. In the future, I hope your sister will be content to enjoy the gardens of Riverton and devote her energies to her exquisite paintings.” A pause. “But if she feels compelled to solve mysteries or apprehend dangerous criminals, she and I shall do so together.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, a smile flashed across Justin’s face as the import of the earl’s words sunk in.
Branford took one more deep breath then edged noiselessly toward the house. From the vantage point of the timbered corner he ascertained that no one was outside and again motioned Justin to join him. Ducking low to pass beneath the main windows, the two of them reached gained the front door.
It was slightly ajar, but the earl couldn’t hear any sounds from within.
After ventured a quick look inside, he took a moment to consider his options. Then, mind made up, he signaled for Justin to stay where he was and pantomimed that he would enter the building alone.
Justin looked about to argue, but then merely pressed his lips together and nodded an assent.
Branford cocked his weapon and slid into the shadows.
Hammerton was payinglittle heed to her, observed Alex, unsure of whether that was a good or bad sign. He had returned to the room shortly after leaving it and had made no further efforts at conversation.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him fetch a bottle of brandy and pull a chair up to the table. Turned sideways, his profile silhouetted in the fading afternoon sun, he seemedcontent to stare into his glass with the satisfied smirk that she had come to abhor.
Tallying up his fortune and his lands, no doubt, Alex thought bitterly.And gloating over his future, which now seemed safe. At least he stayed silent so she didn’t have to listen to any more of his boasting.
And yet Alex wasn’t sure which was worse—having to listen to his chilling revelations or having to dwell on her own damnable stupidity.
She bit her lip until she nearly drew blood. From the first, she had felt she could trust Branford, no matter what other people said about his reputation.Why, oh why had she let her head overrule her heart?
It was painful beyond words to know that he must think her just like all the rest of Polite Society, who couldn’t see the real Branford through the haze of ugly rumors.
Why the devil hadn’t he explained the truth of the situation?
Her throat tightened. Because she had not allowed him to do so.A simple yes or no, milord, she had demanded. His own honor had demanded that he tell the unvarnished truth.
Alex blinked away tears.How could he ever forgive her for not believing in him?
But that wasn’t the worst of it. A good part of her anger had stemmed from the fact that she had been unsure of herself, afraid that she could never be as glamorous or alluring as his other amours. And so, she had lashed out at him. It had been petty. It had been wrong.
Not that it mattered much now, but she wished somehow she could tell him …
All of a sudden, Alex realized that the knots of the rope were beginning to loosen from the constant twisting of her hands. Though her wrists were raw from the rough hemp, she could now slip free of her bonds.
Banishing her regrets, she forced herself to stay alert.
Things weren’t over yet.
Hammerton’s chair scraped back on the planked floor. He consulted his pocket watch and then got to his feet. Alex noted with some dismay that he had limited his libations to one small glass of the spirits.
“It’s time for us to leave, dear cousin,” he said as he slipped the watch back in his waistcoat pocket. “Arthur should have the carriage ready and we wouldn’t want to keep your brother waiting, would we?”
Twenty
