Escape with A Rogue (30 page)

She knew it was not complete proof of her brother’s innocence, but she caught hold of Jack’s chin and kissed his cheek. He jerked back, but she knew they were safe. Mayberry was in the castle and no one could see them. She kept pushing for touches and affection, and Jack kept fighting her, yet she couldn’t make herself stop.

When he drew back, he looked as if she’d slapped him. “Don’t, Lady M.,” he warned.

Yesterday, he had called her Maddy. Today it was Lady M. once more.

His mouth thinned into a grim line and he said, “You may not want to thank me when I tell you what else I learned. It is about your father.”

The word
father
made fear rush down her spine. Could Jack have found out the truth? He looked as if he were about to deliver a death sentence. “I learned your father loved Grace Highchurch.”

Shock brought a buzzing sound to her ears, so she barely heard what Jack told her. She managed to grasp that Mrs. Crayle had told him this, and even though the cook had insisted there had been nothing but longing glances, it was obvious Jack suspected there was more.

She
feared
there was more.

She knew her father had been unfaithful in his marriage many times, her mother at least once. Her parents had wounded each other in the pursuit of love.

“Father. And Grace.” She said the words numbly. Wild panic seized her heart. Father had been so upset when she had ordered the maze torn down. He had been frantic. Had it been because he loved Grace deeply? Or had it been because he feared someone might stumble upon evidence that proved he had—

Since Grace and Sarah’s deaths, Father had been depressed and drinking heavily—was he haunted by guilt?

 Her stomach lurched like a storm-tossed ship. “I must speak to him. I have to find the truth.” She whirled, to rush to Penelope.

Jack grasped her hand. “You can’t confront him over this. It’s too dangerous.”

Her wits were racing into the worst, darkest directions. Father could have stood by and let Jack be hanged for his crime—it was awful, but she could imagine Father would be capable of such a thing. But to let the suspicion fall onto his son . . . how could he?

“Let me go.” Desperately, she struggled against his grip. “I have to gallop back home—”

“You are not galloping anywhere, my lady. Not in this state. You’ll have an accident. Or say things you can never take back. Crayle also told me she saw that young girl, Lady Sarah, arguing once with Deverell and once with Mayberry—”

“Sarah was a little nuisance with a sharp tongue. Of course, the men had argued with her. But if Father and Grace . . . if Grace were enceinte . . .”

“I will speak to your father. Let me handle this. I can question him about Grace—”

“My father will not talk to
you
. You are just a groom.” The moment the words flew out, she wished she could grasp them and pull them back.

Jack’s eyes darkened to the green of the woods on a gray day. “Your father drinks a lot. When he’s in his cups, I can outwit him. That’s how I made my living.”

“N—no,” she said shakily. “That doesn’t seem
fair
—”

“I want you to ride back to the house, but do not go to your father. Do you understand me?”

He turned her by her shoulders so she faced Penelope, who lifted her head and tossed her mane. He spanked Madeline on the bottom. One quick tap of his hand. “Go. Obey me.”

She did not move. No one had ever spanked her. She’d never once been disciplined so. After all, before she’d met Jack, she’d been so careful never to do anything wrong. But his swat hadn’t been intended to hurt; it had been intended to shock her into complying. His hand was still there, cupping her derriere—

Thundering hooves sounded on the path.

“Someone’s coming. Let go of my bottom.” How could she explain why a groom was speaking with her—and had his hand on her rump? He would be caught, then taken by Oberon’s men. He would be killed. “You must hide.”

But he stood there, glowering. He was not going to hide until she agreed to do as he said. Fear rushed through her. “You can’t be caught.”

He waited.

She had always ruled her household, but this time Jack possessed the superior will, and she knew it. “All right. I will do as you say.”

He nodded his approval, released her derriere, then dove behind the bush, while she hurried along the wall of the keep toward Penelope.

One rider emerged from the wooded path to the clearing that surrounded the castle. The rider wore a dark-green velvet habit, and golden-brown curls streamed out behind her. Amelia waved frantically with her riding crop. “We can’t find Mama! She’s missing!”

Chapter Eighteen

She rode like the devil and it was a miracle she hadn’t fallen from her horse and been killed.

Astride Jupiter, Jack caught up with Lady M. as she reached the edge of the lawn. He had taken a different, more dangerous trail through the woods, one that brought him to the lawns on the other side of the house, then galloped along the lawns to meet her.

He had expected to reach the lawns before she did by several minutes. He’d taken a different trail in case Oberon’s men were watching—so they did not wonder why a groom was chasing her. He had arrived on the lawns only a few seconds before Lady M., which told him how dangerously she had ridden. Lady Amelia emerged a few minutes later, with Mayberry trailing behind, riding cautiously.

Jack’s heart was in his throat. If she had fallen—

Hell, he should have followed her. Guilt lanced him. He had only gone a different way to protect himself.

Lady M. was slowing an exhausted Penelope as they neared the house. Jack reached her side and dismounted. “My lady, what is wrong?” He had to act as though he knew nothing and was nothing more than a servant waiting to serve his lady.

For the first time in his life, he felt rage at the hand fate had dealt him. He’d always been determined to be as powerful as he could in the world where he belonged. Then he’d wanted to escape into the simpler world of horses. Now he wished he could be a part of Lady M.’s world.

That was impossible.

Amelia galloped to them. Her young face was white with fear. Mayberry followed. The earl’s gaze swept over Jack with condescension. He saw Jack’s old hacking jacket and cap and instantly thought
groom
.

Then Jack felt an intense stare and he looked up. Seated on her mare, Lady Amelia peered at him. Her spectacles glinted as she frowned. She stared right into his eyes. “Goodness, you’re J—” She stopped as though she’d bitten down on her tongue.

Lady Amelia knew who he was. Lady M. could see that, too. Instead of answering her question, she stared at her sister with panic in her eyes. Panic for her mother, he knew.

Lady M. reached for her sister’s hand. Quickly and quietly she said, “It’s all right. I promise you it is. I’ll explain later. Now, we must find Mama.”

Hell, was her panic over him?

Jack could feel Lady Amelia’s shocked stare like the blade of a knife on his throat. She was keeping her silence—for now. Would she betray him to Oberon?

If she did, he would be killed. But that didn’t matter as much as protecting Lady M. If Oberon caught him, he would know she had helped hide him. The Crown agent would know Lady Madeline would not have been fooled by his disguise. What would Oberon do to her?

Beau’s story about the dead woman was like corrosive acid dripping on his gut—

“Madeline!” A woman in a turquoise habit charged toward them as they neared the house, and she smacked her poor horse sharply with a crop to spur the mare on.

“Catherine,” Madeline breathed. “She’s come from Lindale Park.”

“Good heavens, what has happened?” Lady Lindale cried. “Your servants are rushing about in the woods, and I was stopped by one of those men of the Crown.”

Amelia’s voice rose, distraught and filled with tears. “I let Mama out of my sight. She’s lost! I could not find her.”

“Amelia, it is not your fault,” Lady M. said.

Every servant in Eversleigh appeared to be combing the grounds, and several of Oberon’s men searched the edge of the woods. Jack should keep silent and not draw attention to his face, but Madeline was now stark white and her entire body was trembling.

He took Penelope’s reins from her hands, laying a hand on the horse’s withers to keep her steady. “Lady Evershire will be found,” he said gruffly. “No harm has come to her.”

Lady Amelia began to sob. “I’m so sorry, Maddy,” she whispered. “You told me to look after her. You must hate me.”

“She does not,” Jack said quickly. “Lady Amelia, please calm yourself and tell us everything that happened. Where did you leave your mother? Were you speaking of anything that might give us a clue where she went?”

After he fired off the questions, Jack became aware of the women staring at him. Gaping at him.

He’d forgotten his place as a lowly groom.

Lady Lindale stared pointedly at him. “Who is
this
?”

“He is a groom and it is neither here nor there who he is,” Lady M. cried. “
Mama
is lost.” Lady M. took the reins back from him and shouted commands to the servants scurrying across the lawns. “The pond! Has anyone gone to the pond?”

The butler, Pritchard, hurried toward them from the terrace, puffing.

“I sent footmen to the pond at once, my lady.” The correct butler’s cravat was twisted, his gray hair standing on end. “There was no sign of anyone.”

“Oh God,” Lady M. moaned. “We may—we may have to search the water.”

Penelope almost shied beneath her, and Jack caught the reins to hold the mare steady. “It won’t come to that, my lady,” he muttered. But he couldn’t promise her that. All he wanted to do was spare her pain. In her wild race on her horse, Jack had seen how much she loved her mother. He could guess what she would be feeling—he knew the horrifying despair of it himself.
That everything you’d feared happening for so long was finally coming to pass. And you could do nothing to stop it.

Jack scanned the grounds. If Lady Evershire had taken the path toward the pond, she would have passed by— “The maze.”

Lady Madeline stared down at him in shock, then she shouted, “Has anyone looked in the maze? Mama spoke about it last night at dinner.”

The butler sputtered helplessly and she gasped, “You have not. Then I will go.”

He didn’t like this. Lady M. rushing off into the place where two women had been killed, when there had been an attempt on her life?

“Stay here, my lady,” he barked, not caring now how strange it sounded for him to snap orders at her. “I will search.” To Penelope, he added, “Be calm and look after your mistress.” Then he ran for the maze.

Brambles and vines had grown across the entrance, but there was a hole in them. Someone has passed through and Jack followed. A thorn scratched his cheek and he felt the sting of blood. He hadn’t gone through this maze for two years, but he could remember it. Some of the hedges had been cut down, but more than half remained. Vines tangled through the evergreen branches, and it looked more like a mass of bushes than an orderly maze.

Jack turned to the right.

Like a sprite, a woman rushed by: a woman in a youthful white muslin dress, with her silvery-blond hair loose and spilling down her back. She giggled wildly at him and disappeared around a corner. “You can’t catch me.”

Relief stopped him in his tracks for a moment—long enough for the woman to have vanished when he turned the same corner. Lady Evershire’s words proved to be true. It should have been easy—she was almost sixty and he was twenty-eight. But she knew which way to dart.

Jack turned another corner, certain he had her—

Her giggle reached him from across a vine-strewn hedge.

The hell with it. He charged at the hedge and barged through it, bending the supple trunks to make enough space. The branches ripped at his face and tore at his clothes. He lost his cap, but grabbed it as it fell, and stumbled through to the other side. Lady Evershire stared at him in shock. “Come along, my lady,” he said soothingly.

She stamped her foot, which he saw was bare. “No! I haven’t found her yet.”

“Who were you looking for, my lady?”

“Grace. She must be here. She’s hiding from me.”

Her words rooted him to the spot. “Why were you looking for Grace, my lady?”

Suddenly she looked blank and confused. She tugged at her hair. “My hair is not dressed. Why did my maid not prepare me for today? Where is Madeline?”

It must be hell for Madeline—
Lady
Madeline—to watch her mother descend into confusion and madness. He’d watched his own mother do the same as the gin had rotted her mind.

He gently grasped Lady Evershire’s arm. “I’ll take you to Lady Madeline.”

She resisted at first, then stared with unnerving intensity at his face. “You are very handsome.”

That was the secret. Amazingly, if he flattered and flirted with her, she trotted obediently at his side. He kept her hand tucked at his elbow, and his clasped on her wrist.

But as they reached the last turn before the maze’s entrance, Lady Evershire stopped abruptly and pulled back. “Grace Highchurch cannot be here.” An eerily happy smile transformed her into the beauty she must have once been. “She’s dead, isn’t she? I came to make sure. First Sarah, that spiteful little girl. Then Grace. All dead. All the hateful females are dead.”

Jack searched for something to say. He heard a soft, startled gasp from around the hedgerow corner. He drew Lady Evershire around to meet Madeline’s shocked blue eyes.

Jack wished he could protect Madeline from the pain etched on her face. He hungered to hold her in his arms and comfort her. But he couldn’t.

“I told you to stay at the house,” Jack growled.

“I could not just sit and wait . . . Roberts,” Madeline whispered.

Madeline’s heart lurched as she spied bare feet beneath the hem of her mother’s nightrail. She stepped forward and took Mama’s arm. “You must come to the house.”

Mama angrily shook off her hand. “Do not pull me, daughter. I want to see Bertram. He must be spoken to. Where is he? Has he gone with
her
? I can’t find him in the house.”