Page 56

Peter eyed him appraisingly. His wan face still held suspicion, but there was marginally less dislike in it than there had been when he’d entered the room. ‘I’m not sure about you, my lord,’ he said frankly. ‘It seems to me you’ve brought Meg nothing but trouble, but you’re the one she wants. If it’ll make her happy again, then I’d like your marriage to continue rather than be broken up for no real cause…especially as I suppose it was my fault she was forced to wed you in the first place.’

Jacob allowed the jab to hit its target. That Meg had indeed initially had little choice but to marry him wasn’t a truth he particularly wanted to revisit, but it couldn’t be denied. He couldn’t deny that he’d brought her trouble, either, but not everything Peter had said was so difficult to hear.

He rubbed his chin. He hadn’t shaved that morning and the stubble scratched his fingertips as he thought. ‘For your sister to be happy is the most important thing in the world. On that, at least, we agree,’ he acknowledged. ‘I also concur that the best course of action would be to try to hunt down the criminal responsible for my brother’s death myself. In fact, I was trying to think how best to do that when you came in.’

Meg’s brother nodded. It seemed as though he was about to carry on speaking—but Jacob suddenly stopped him, holding up a hand as a new idea came out of nowhere to tear through his mind.

‘Wait.’ He abruptly sat upright, wondering why he hadn’t seen such an obvious thing before. ‘Your father… When he came to fetch Meg he said she was the subject of rumours in every tavern for miles around. Do you think, if I visited some of those taverns, I might hear something to my advantage?’

Peter considered for a moment. ‘You might. It would be a good place to start, in any case.’ He shot Jacob a stern glance. ‘But it wouldn’t just be you hearing things. I’d be going too.’

At once Jacob frowned. ‘I couldn’t allow that. You shouldn’t be involved in such an ugly business.’

He expected the boy to argue, so to be met instead with a smile took him by surprise.

‘Do you know much about village taverns, my lord?’

Jacob shifted slightly in his chair. ‘I’m not sure I’d say much…’

‘Then you’ll need a guide.’

Peter’s smile widened. With a stubborn gleam in his eye and determination emanating from him like a flame gave off heat his resemblance to Meg was suddenly overwhelming, and Jacob realised there was little point in disagreeing as the boy cheerfully clapped him on the shoulder.

‘Fortunately for you, my lord, I’m just the man for the job.’

Chapter Thirteen

Sitting motionless on the end of her bed, Meg waited to see if the sound of squeaking floorboards would come again.

Aside from her own quiet breaths there was no noise in the nighttime darkness. Pa had turned in before nine o’clock and Peter had followed soon after, leaving her to lock up the cottage and leave the key hanging on its hook beside the front door. Usually there would be no further movement until after dawn, which was why the unmistakable creak of someone trying to creep past her bedroom caught her attention at once.

I knew it. Peter’s sneaking out again.

She stayed very still, listening intently as careful feet shuffled down the landing. This time she would catch him. For the previous three nights, he’d gone skulking past her bedroom door and it was only because she’d been lying awake that she’d heard her brother pass by, his obvious attempts at discretion rousing her suspicions immediately. On those three occasions he’d managed to slip away before she could confront him, but tonight would be different. She was fully dressed as she waited, camouflaged in her darkest cloak, and as the creaking retreated down the landing she silently eased open her bedroom door.

I’d place money that I already know where he’s going—but I have to be sure.

An unpleasant sense of apprehension accosted her as she slipped out onto the landing. The thought of setting foot on the Wellbourne estate filled her with dread. It was unlikely she’d run into Jacob at night while trying—once again—to stop her brother from poaching on that land, but she’d thought the same the first time it had happened, and heaven knew history had a habit of repeating itself. She wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to resist him if she saw him again so soon, hardly having had any time to rebuild her defences, but Peter had left her with no choice but to act, and as she stole to the top of the staircase she inwardly cursed her brother with every unladylike word she knew.

It was almost unbelievable he’d take such a stupid risk. Jacob might not be anywhere near as dangerous as Anthony, but still it struck her as incredible that Peter hadn’t learned any kind of lesson from the last time he’d taken it upon himself to steal. She wanted to think there was another reason for him to sneak out in the middle of the night, but what could it possibly be? Nothing else sprung to mind and she felt a slow pulse of anger begin to beat while she waited in the stairwell’s shadow, watching to see what he would do next.

Straining through the dimness, she saw him reach down their father’s hooded cloak. He was already wearing his soft-soled boots and the addition of the dark-green cloak made him every gamekeeper’s nightmare. He’d be all but invisible against the moonlit trees, and nearly silent too, and Meg’s ire sparked hotter as he fumbled for the key and fitted it into the front door.

Clenching her teeth to stop herself from calling out, she caught a click as the lock ground open. Immediately Peter looked over his shoulder, no doubt checking nobody had heard, and his furtiveness made her want to burst from her hiding place rather than draw back into the gloom.

How could he? she thought furiously. How could he put her in this position, knowing she was already suffering? She hadn’t told him explicitly what had happened between Jacob and her, it was true, but Peter was canny enough to read between the lines. She knew he’d caught glimpses of her red-rimmed eyes before she’d been able to dry them, causing her all but to run away from him and any painful questions he might have asked. He must have known she was unhappy but was content to make a bad situation worse for her regardless, and it hurt to think that after everything she’d done for him he could be so thoughtless.

Quietly Peter opened the door. He knew exactly how far to push it before it squeaked and he was able to leave without a sound, closing it behind him again just as silently. The moment he was out of sight Meg darted from the shadows and followed him outside, slipping from the cottage as noiselessly as the brother she was just in time to see hop over their front gate and disappear into the trees.

She hastened after him, trying not to snap any telltale branches beneath her boots. Many of the trees had shed their leaves and moonlight was able to filter through to speckle the ground in front of her, allowing her to keep track of Peter as he hurried through the woods. He didn’t seem as concerned with secrecy now they were away from the cottage; he crashed through the piles of fallen leaves with more speed than care, the rustling covering Meg’s footsteps as she scurried behind, and he didn’t look back as he unwittingly led her onwards, the Wellbourne estate closing around them and the small but undeniable chance of seeing Jacob growing with every stride.

It would be so easy to keep going, she tried not to acknowledge as she kept her eyes on Peter’s fleeing back. There would be nothing to prevent me from carrying on through these trees, not stopping until I ended up outside Wellbourne House’s front door…

The idea was so distracting that for a moment she almost lost sight of her brother. He blended with the shadows in Pa’s forest-hued cloak, and she had to concentrate to pick him out again, grateful at least for something to focus on other than the possibility of running back to the grand house—and into its owner’s arms.

No!

There would be plenty more opportunities to hopelessly think about Jacob once she’d caught Peter in whatever ill-advised act he was bent on, and she determined not to let her mind wander again as she pushed on through the scrub. He wasn’t slowing down, and matching his pace was difficult, her breath coming faster and faster the further they went on. His clumsy footsteps made such a racket that any game would have heard him coming from a mile away, and she wondered distantly why he wasn’t taking more care, the animals he was there to hunt sure to be scared off before he’d have any chance at getting close.