Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Lone Sheriff\The Gentleman Rogue\Never Trust a Rebel (57 page)

‘I had acquitted myself well in previous battles, but that worked against me and I found myself with a price on my head. I went into hiding and eventually my mother's family smuggled me across to the Continent.' When he paused she glanced up and saw that his lips had thinned to a bloodless line. ‘Charles and his supporters had returned to France by then, but any thoughts I had of being welcomed into their ranks were quickly dashed. I was a poor wretch, disowned by my father: the last word I had from him before I fled Scotland was that my actions had laid my mother so low she was not expected to live. So I arrived in France without connections or money—just another burden. I was not yet sixteen, alone and far from home. I changed my name and did what I could to survive.'

He stopped. Elyse could only guess at the black days that followed. She thought of the scars and wheals she had seen on his body and shuddered.

‘You became a mercenary.'

‘Yes.'

‘You were lucky to escape with your life.' She added quickly, ‘You may not agree, but
I
am very thankful for it. You were a true friend to my father; you have proved as much by your behaviour towards me.'

‘Do not make a hero of me, Elyse, I am nothing of the sort.'

She returned his troubled gaze frankly and with a warm smile.

‘I know that, silly, but I also know I can trust you to keep me safe.'

‘Only until Michaelmas, my dear. After that...'

Something flared in his eyes, causing the breath to catch in her throat.

She stopped and prompted him. ‘After that?'

Elyse watched as the fire died from his gaze. He gave a bitter laugh, patted her hand and obliged her to walk on beside him.

‘After that,' he said lightly, ‘you are no longer my concern.'

Elyse accompanied him in silence. That is not what he had meant, she was sure of it. That look in his eyes hinted at something quite different. She had found it unsettling and even a little frightening. Surely the sudden heat that flooded her body, the way she wanted to cling to him, such were the feelings one should have for one's husband. One's lover.

She gave herself a little inward shake. Such thoughts had only occurred because she was lonely and missing William, but that would not be for much longer. They would be together soon. At Michaelmas. A few more days and then she would never see Drew again. But she had always known that, had she not? And not so long ago she had thought the day could not come soon enough. She had changed and suddenly Elyse was afraid to consider just how much.

‘Well, naturally,' she said, forcing herself to speak calmly. ‘After that you will not need to look after me, will you? I shall have William to do that.'

There was the briefest of pauses before he replied.

‘Of course.' They resumed their walk. ‘I propose that we journey to Bath tomorrow.'

‘Dr Hall said you must rest for a few more days.'

‘We have been here long enough.'

‘But you have not left your room until today. You are not strong enough for another journey yet.'

‘I thought you would be eager to reach your new family,' he challenged her.

‘I am.' The words came quickly and she refused to think deeply about the matter. She was only concerned for his well-being, wasn't she? ‘But surely we can spare one more day for your recovery?'

‘My father would not think so. He would not spare me one hour, if he had his way.'

Her heart went out to him when she heard the bitterness in his voice.

‘That is not true,' she told him. ‘Sir Edward insisted that Dr Hall should be called to attend you as often as was necessary.'

‘Only because he does not want the embarrassment of my dying here.'

‘Drew!'

‘Do not sound so outraged, my dear, I expected nothing else. If it were not for you he would have thrown me out already.'

‘I do not believe that. Whatever you have done you are still his son.'

‘Has he said so?'

‘Well, no, but—'

He stopped her with a wave of his hand, saying impatiently, ‘You cannot mend everything, Elyse. Do not forget there is a price on my head. I should not even be in England.'

‘Then I should go on to Bath alone, as we discussed.'

‘No, we discussed it when I thought I would be too ill to come with you. That is no longer the case. I promised your father I would see you safely delivered to the viscount. Besides, I want to assure myself that the marriage settlements are in order.'

‘But after Michaelmas you will no longer be my guardian. I could do that myself.'

‘You could, of course, but I wish to look them over carefully.'

‘Do you not trust Lord Whittlewood?'

‘I am acting on your father's behalf. He would want me to make sure everything was arranged to your advantage. After all, you will now be taking to your new husband a considerable fortune.'

His remarks barely registered with her. She said, ‘But will it not be dangerous for you, to be in Bath?'

‘Not really, unless you disclose my real name.'

She squeezed his arm.

‘I would never betray you, Drew.'

He covered her fingers, where they rested on the sleeve of his borrowed shirt.

‘No, I do not think you would, but you must see that the sooner I get you to Bath the better.'

She did see it, but the thought of the momentous change that was about to take place in her life was also a little daunting.

‘I still believe you should rest as long as possible, and we can spare another twenty-four hours. If we leave early on Michaelmas morning we can still be in Bath before noon. Pray, sir, humour me in this.'

He sighed. ‘Very well, one more day, but we dare not leave it any longer.'

‘Dare not?' She cast a glance at him. ‘Do you truly believe that if I am not delivered to the viscount by Michaelmas he will call off the wedding?'

‘I do.'

‘And...do you think that the viscount might be so opposed to the match that he would deliberately try to stop my getting to Bath?'

‘What makes you say that?'

She did not answer immediately.

‘I have been thinking,' she said at last. ‘About the wording of Lord Whittlewood's letter, and the fact that the family had left London before we arrived. Also, there are the circumstances of the attack upon our carriage.'

‘We were travelling a road that is notorious for its footpads and brigands.'

His reply was guarded and she guessed that he, too, was suspicious. She continued thoughtfully, ‘Does it not seem odd to you that Mr Settle should be taken ill and leave us to travel on alone?'

‘Yes, that was a little odd, but it proves nothing.'

‘But there is more, Drew. “Pops” is a slang word for firearms, is it not? I thought I heard the coachman cry out “No pops!” after you had fired at the robbers.'

‘I daresay he did. It is a common enough expression.'

‘But you do not understand. He then said,' she wrinkled her brow trying to recall the sequence of events. ‘He shouted out, “You said there'd be no shooting.” Or something of that sort. Did you not hear him?'

‘No, you imagined it.'

‘I did not, I promise you. I have been thinking and thinking about it. At first it made no sense, but then I remembered that the coachman and his guard had been sent out from Bath to meet us, and when you told me the viscount had given you an ultimatum, I thought, perhaps, he had arranged for the coach to be held up.'

‘That is merely fanciful nonsense.'

‘If that is so, then why was the coachman allowed to drive off unmolested?'

Drew frowned. ‘Did he do so? I had taken the bullet in my arm by then and confess I did not notice much at all.'

Elyse nodded. ‘Yes, he did. And the robbers seemed quite startled by your shooting at them.'

‘Not too startled to shoot back.'

‘I realise that but what if,' she moistened her lips. ‘What if Mr Settle was a party to the deed? What if, when you decided to accompany me to Bath, Mr Settle panicked and feigned illness rather than be found out?' She saw Drew's black frown and added quickly, ‘Oh, I do not think they intended to murder me. Perhaps they merely wanted to frighten me into returning to Scarborough.'

‘It sounds very far-fetched, Elyse.'

‘I know, but we are agreed the viscount does not want me to marry his son.'

‘Perhaps not, but—'

‘It is possible, isn't it?'

‘Yes, it's possible. ‘

‘Oh, how can he be so cruel, when it is what William wants, as much as I?'

‘Are you
sure
it is what Reverson wants, Elyse?'

‘Of course.' She turned her dark eyes up to meet his. ‘I have his letters, telling me so.'

* * *

Drew did not answer immediately. If Elyse had heard the coachman correctly then there was some mystery here, but he was not as convinced as Elyse that William Reverson was completely innocent. And if not, then what harm might come of forcing the marriage?

Quickly Drew put aside such thoughts. Harry was no fool; he must have been assured of his daughter's happiness when he arranged this union. And it was a chance in a lifetime for her, she would marry into the nobility and never want for anything again.

Still, he determined to meet the viscount and make up his own mind before he abandoned Elyse to her fate.

* * *

The light was fading fast when they returned to the house and Elyse needed her bedroom candle to light her way to her room. She did not go to bed immediately but took out the letters William had written to her. Thank goodness she had put them in the large pockets beneath her travelling gown when she had set out, rather than packing them in her trunk, which had been stolen along with the carriage and all her other belongings.

She untied the green ribbon that she had fastened around the bundle. There were barely a dozen letters, far less than she had written to him, but William had told her he was no letter-writer. She read through them all again now. They were not fulsome, but neither was there anything in them to make her think that he had changed his mind about marrying her. With a sigh she closed her eyes and clutched the letters against her heart. The viscount might be doing his best to keep them apart, but she was convinced that William was sincere.

She tried to conjure his image, but it was impossible. Instead all she could see was Drew's darkly brooding countenance. But that was understandable, thought Elyse. It did not mean that she loved William any less, only that she was concerned for Drew. She wished that he and his father would make up their differences. Slowly she began to pack the letters away. Drew had said to her that she could not mend everything, but she could at least try.

* * *

Elyse found Sir Edward in the little parlour, his chair pulled close to the dying fire and a decanter and wineglass on a small table at his elbow. He glanced up as she entered and pushed himself out of his chair.

‘Miss Salforde. Is anything amiss?'

‘No, sir, I came to speak with you.'

He waved her to the chair on the opposite side of the fire.

‘What is it you wish to say to me?'

‘It concerns Andrew. Please, hear me out.' She put up her hand as he made to rise from his chair again. ‘Do you know anything of his life these past ten years?'

‘No.' He sank back, frowning. ‘And I do not want to know.'

‘He was very young when he left Hartcombe, sir.'

‘He made his choice. He must take the consequences.'

‘And he has done so. After he fled to France he had no money, no friends, so he became a mercenary, fighting for foreign armies. Then he met my father and they made their money at the gaming tables of Europe.'

‘Hah!' His white brows snapped together. ‘Scoundrels, then, the pair of 'em.'

She shrugged. ‘Quite possibly, but Andrew assures me they won by fair means, and took care not to ruin anyone.'

‘You may believe that if you like, madam, although I take leave to doubt it. Yet it does not alter the fact that he was a traitor to his country.'

‘He was a
boy
, young and impressionable, who was caught up in events beyond his understanding.'

‘Did he send you to me to plead his cause?'

‘He does not know I am here, Sir Edward. He thinks you can never be reconciled.'

‘And he is right.'

She smiled. ‘If that were so, why did you take him in and allow Mrs Parfitt to nurse him?'

‘Any Christian would do as much.'

‘Would they? I think it was more the action of a man who still cares for his son.'

He glared at her. ‘You would be advised to keep out of what does not concern you.'

‘But it
does
concern me, Sir Edward. My father made Drew my guardian, because he knew him to be a true and honest friend. And so he has proved himself to be. He has risked arrest to come to England and take me to Lord Whittlewood. He was wounded protecting me from highway robbers. It is only right that I should try in return to help him. We have one more day here, then he plans to leave Hartcombe and never return. I would beg you to make your peace with him.'

‘Never.'

‘Sir Edward—'

‘No!' He swung around in his chair, turning away from her. ‘If that is all you have to say then you had best leave, madam, for I shall not change my mind. Go. Go, damn you!'

Elyse rose.

‘I know Drew to be an honourable man, Sir Edward. You should be proud to have such a son. It would mean a great deal to him if you could acknowledge him.' When he did not speak she continued quietly, ‘My father was a restless man who travelled Europe, living on his wits. When he died he left me with money, but very few memories of him. He provided handsomely for me and my mother, while she was alive, but he rarely visited us. My biggest regret is that I never really knew my father. You have a chance to make peace with Andrew, I beg that you do so, sir, and make the most of the time you have left together.' She walked to the door, where she turned, speaking to his rigid, unmoving back. ‘I pray you, sir, do not leave it too late.'