The wariness, the deeply rooted anger that he would deny even existed in him, had faded away. In its place was love. It had finally found him and the Greeks were right—love was like being shot with an arrow. But he wasn’t mortally wounded. No, he’d been given a new life. And so he would tell Gwendolyn when he made his declaration, except, he wasn’t one for flowery words. However, his love for her made him want to spout poetry. It made him want to sing.
It made him want to hold her and never let her go.
Finished with the towel, he turned to the small chest where his clothes were stored, then saw a note on the bed. It was small, and the paper had blended in with the counterpane. He’d been so focused on preparing to meet Gwendolyn, he had not noticed.
Beck picked it up. The handwriting was feminine.
I have learned something Important. Meet me in the gazebo in the back garden as soon as you are able. Gwendolyn.
He quickly dressed. He had not yet had a chance to explore Colemore’s gardens. They took up acres of land. However, a good numberof the guests already walked the paths when he stepped from the house. He asked about a gazebo and was told to keep following the path until he saw a line of trellises shading the main pathway. “Watch for a thicket tunnel. Right before you reach it. It isn’t far from there,” a guest said.
The garden was a mix of formal and informal spaces. Passing the trellises, he walked down a row of yews that cut a border. He searched between them for any sign of a gazebo. He didn’t see one.
Clouds gathered overhead. He was alone in the garden now as the other guests had gone inside to prepare for dinner.
At the end of the alley of yews was a winding path that led into a section of shrubs and over a brook, designed so it flowed into a series of good-sized pools. The pools had been filled with water lilies. Silver fish darted beneath them in the late afternoon light. He crossed a small bridge before he caught sight of a low thicket tunnel and the roof of a gazebo.
Anxious to see Gwendolyn, he hastened his step. The privacy offered by this splendid garden seemed the perfect backdrop for him to confess to Gwendolyn that he had been wrong—he loved her. She was his future. His reason for being. Hewantedher beside him.
He didn’t have all the right words in his mind. He trusted they would come to him once he had his arms around her.
The gazebo was of a Chinese design. The roof was red with curling points. The columns werecarved wood painted white. It was a delicate-looking building and oddly fit the forest setting. The surrounding thicket tunnel made it very private.
He entered the gazebo and was annoyed to see that Gwendolyn was not there. Then he chastised himself for his impatience. He thought of the kiss that morning, the hunger that had been in both of them. He could wait forever for Gwendolyn if he could feel her arms around him... and know he was no longer alone in this world.
The gazebo floor was stone inlaid in the shape of a star. Just like the parquet floors in the house, he mused. Or, stars like the ones in Gwendolyn’s eyes when some particular thought caught her imagination or fancy.
There was no seating. Instead, Beck leaned against the railing, watching the spot where the thicket opened to the gazebo entrance.
He couldn’t wait to tell her of Ellisfield’s confidences. His lordship’s observations about his parents didn’t completely make sense to Beck, but Gwendolyn would help reason it all out.
Gwendolyn, Gwendolyn, Gwendolyn.He rolled the syllables of her name in his mind. It felt good to be in love. It felt even better to trust again.
Beck was so caught up in his anticipation for Gwendolyn’s arrival, he didn’t sense the other man’s presence until he had risen up out of the thicket and brought a hard club down on Beck’s head.
Chapter Sixteen
Gwendolyn was frightened and yet curiously calm.
She had been tossed in a coach, her arms bound to her sides and her ankles tied together. A gag kept her from crying out.
It was vanity that had gotten her into this mess. Well, that, and a strong desire to help Beckett by discovering all she could about the singing marchioness’s death.
The cardplayers had played whist for a solid four hours. She and Lady Orpington had done very well. They had not played against Lady Middlebury and Reverend Denburn, but that would happen, and soon.
Lady Orpington had been upset when Lady Middlebury had announced the end of card playing for the day. Lady Orpington had happily announced that they would continue after dinner as they always had. Lady Middlebury had told her no. She’d said the young people wished to play charades and other games. As a good hostess, Lady Middlebury insisted she must overseethe activities. As good guests, she expected thatallthe cardplayers participate in the evening’s plans.
Of course, Lady Orpington had complained, but honestly, Gwendolyn was tired of whist. The play had not been all that challenging. No wonder Lady Orpington and her late lord had done so well.
Gwendolyn was also anxious to see Beckett, to have a moment for a few words with him. She wondered what he had been doing while she’d been cooped up inside on a truly lovely day. She had yet to inspect the gardens.
Shortly after the cardplayers left their tables, Lady Middlebury had sought her out. “Would you walk with me in the garden, Miss Lanscarr? It is a lovely afternoon. Seems a shame to not enjoy such good weather while we have it.”
Gwendolyn had not been able to turn down such an invitation. This was the first time her hostess had singled her out, and Gwendolyn was curious as to why. Unfortunately, all Lady Middlebury had seemed prepared to discuss was a bit of the garden’s history—that is, until they reached the lily pond.
Gwendolyn had watched fish flit around under the layer of water plants, wondering how to politely suggest they return to dress for dinner. She liked gardens as well as any woman, but she’d seen enough.
Suddenly Lady Middlebury had said, “Marriage isn’t easy.”
