Mistress of Merrivale (33 page)

A tear slipped down Hannah’s cheek, taking him aback. She never succumbed to tears, not even as a child. She was the one who made other boys and girls cry.

“She went with Jack Boynton. I-I thought Boynton was interested in me, but h-he used me to arrange a clandestine meeting with Jocelyn. They-they’re lovers.”

Leo stood stock still. Jocelyn wouldn’t do this to him, not after everything they’d faced together. “No.” The denial whispered past his lips. “No.”

“Rubbish,” Tilly snapped. “Jocelyn hates Boynton. She’s terrified of him.”

“Tilly.” Woodley shushed his wife.

“Don’t listen to her,” Tilly said to Leo. “No matter what she says, Jocelyn wouldn’t go willingly with that brute.”

“Where is she?” Leo demanded.

“They were walking in the direction of the river,” Hannah said. “There’s no need to take your anger out on me. I was only trying to help.” She turned away, but Leo grasped her elbow and dragged her to a halt.

“Tell me what you’re playing at.”

A single tear tracked down Hannah’s cheek. “You’d believe them over me?”

“I’m withholding judgment until I speak to Jocelyn,” Leo gritted out.

“We’ll come with you,” Woodley said.

“No, please wait here in case Jocelyn comes this way. Captain Cartwright is searching for her too. Please send a footman to tell Cartwright what’s happening. Tell him what Hannah said and that I intend to search the riverbank.”

“Of course, Mr. Sherbourne,” Woodley said.

“I’m going home,” Hannah said.

“You’re coming with me.” Leo hustled Hannah away from the house, determined strides taking him in the direction of the river.

“Stop dragging me around like a parcel,” Hannah snapped.

Leo didn’t release his grip. “I notice you’re not shouting for help. Is that because you don’t want our friends and neighbors to witness your shame?”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t wish to cause gossip. Surely you want the same thing? Don’t you realize the locals are convinced you’re a murderer? Why, I’ve even heard renewed rumors about you killing Ursula.”

“I didn’t kill your sister.”

“I heard the two of you arguing. I heard you tell Ursula you’d kill her rather than let her take Cassie away.”

“How do you know that? The only way you could know is if Ursula told you.”

Hannah shrugged. “We were close. We told each other everything.”

“You couldn’t stand your sister. You were jealous of her. This isn’t helping me find my wife.”

Away from the merriment of the bonfire, Leo paused to listen. He couldn’t hear any sounds to indicate a cooing couple.

“Leo, please.” Without warning, Hannah threw herself at him. She mashed their mouths together, kissing him without finesse. Shock froze him for an instant before he thrust her away.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snapped. “I’m a married man.”

Jocelyn fought, attempting to dislodge Boynton’s iron grip. Her feet struck at his shins, unladylike grunts emerging with each blow. “You can’t do this,” she cried. “People will search for me.”
Please let someone come soon
.

“I can and I will,” Boynton said. “You’re going to pay for making me a laughing stock. Damn it, stop kicking. You’re soiling my clothes.”

“You brought it on yourself,” she said rashly, taking great pleasure in landing a strike and smearing dirt down his pale breeches. “You’re a bully.”

“You liked me well enough when you had me in your bed.”

She caught the building fury in him, instinct screaming for her to back away, to cease her taunts. “I put up with your advances. You have the bedroom skills of a green boy.” No, she shouldn’t needle him, yet experience and bravado lent her steel. She didn’t have to put up with his brutish treatment.

Boynton released her abruptly, his hand swinging in a precision arc. The sharp crack of fist meeting flesh shocked her. The ripple of pain sent her staggering, the ringing in her ears, the wavering black spots in her vision upsetting her balance. She fell against a scratchy, green bush, the thorns on the branches clutching her in a macabre embrace while she struggled for equilibrium.

With a snarl, he jerked her free, the rent of fabric another sharp slap of reality. She sucked in a breath and screamed. A small ineffectual sound emerged, pitiful and of little use to attract aid.

“Stop it!” He shook her vigorously, her head snapping back with the force.

“Please s-stop.”

The shaking ended abruptly. A foreign sound intruded. A voice.

“Don’t you dare,” he ground out, dragging her into the dark shadows of the garden. He drew her against his chest, tension radiating from him. The voices receded, and her hope wilted.

Her hand crept up to finger her chin and her fingers came away damp. With rough hands, he directed her to the maze. Her mind worked frantically, searching for a way to escape. She was familiar with the garden and its secluded places, and she doubted he knew his way as well as her—except he’d managed to spy on her without discovery. The knowledge froze her mind like a chunk of fresh ice. She wouldn’t have the advantage of familiarity after all.

He hauled her into the maze. Two hours ago the hedge puzzle had been full of laughter and excited shouts from disorientated men, women and children. Now it stood silent, everyone partaking of food and drink, enjoying the music and the dancing in the flickering light of the bonfire.

“Did you think to avoid me? I’ve known of your location ever since you escaped. I’ve spent several weeks with Sir James and hugely enjoyed the entertainment in the region. Even helped with the organization.”

Jocelyn stared at him, her heart battering her breastbone. The smugness on his heavy-jowled face told her it was the truth. How had she not known? Surely she would have sensed his presence? When Melburn had whisked her off to London, she’d jumped at every sound, but gradually she’d relaxed, feeling safe under Melburn’s care.

“Your mother saw me.” Satisfaction throbbed in him, and she caught the gloating flash of his smirk. “A delightful game it proved, learning how quickly I could push her into madness.”

“You?” All this time she’d thought her mother was seeing things, conjuring ghosts where there were none. Guilt surfaced almost driving out her fear.

“I hired actors to haunt her when I needed to conduct business elsewhere.”

Jocelyn spat out a curse and fought him with renewed determination. He subdued her with little effort, laughing when she repeated the slur against his manhood.

“My dear, I’ll happily prove you wrong.” His hand slipped down to squeeze one breast, the sharp pain making her cry out. “We’ll have a good time at the abbey. Such a fortuitous discovery.”

She slithered away as far as his punishing grasp allowed, shooting him a glare of dislike. “Did you kill my mother?”

“I heard she died. I also heard your husband did it.” His lips twisted, and she saw his spite. He cared nothing for her pain, reveling in her grief. “Not that I blame him. Who wants a madwoman living in their house?” He shoved her deeper into the maze, helping her along with a rough hand in the middle of her back. “No one wants to worry about someone attacking them in their bed. I’d say your husband is a clever man.”

No, she’d settled this matter in her mind. “Leo’s not like that. He’s decent.”

“He’ll reject you too, my dear, especially after I’ve fucked you and passed you to my friends. It won’t take much to circulate rumors around Merrivale and Tavistock. People will laugh because Sherbourne married a courtesan. I told Hannah. She’ll make sure everyone learns of your scandalous reputation.”

Leo knew. He wouldn’t reject her because of renewed gossip
. But despite the thought, panic was a stealthy beast, stalking her mind, making her want to curl up and cry at the injustice. People would think the worst of her.

“You can’t do this. I’m a married woman.” A clear tremor wove through her words. A living nightmare, and there was no way out.

Boynton chuckled, the spiteful humor telling her he was enjoying her plight. “From what I hear your husband is a jealous man. By the time I’ve finished with you he’ll refuse to have you back. You’ll be soiled goods. No decent man will want you.”

The worst part was she feared Boynton might be right. After Leo’s experience with his first wife, he’d believe the worst. A sob caught in her throat, the ache of regret like a cage around her chest. Her hand crept down to caress her unborn child. “Leo will search for me.” She knew this with certainty, but what would he do with her once he found her?

“Of course he will, which is why I’m going to make it appear as if we’ve enjoyed a tryst.” He dragged her to a painful stop. “Look at me.”

She drew her shoulders back. Her instinct to disobey disregarded because he was bigger, stronger. Instead, she took her time, lifting her chin with hauteur.

Boynton cursed. “Damn this gloom in here.”

Jocelyn backed up, gathering herself to run. Unfortunately, he noticed. His hand snapped out to grip the neckline of her gown. The silky fabric was no match for his strength. The tear of fabric made her cry out and she wrenched the mangled bodice back into place.

“Stop! Leave me alone. Help. Help!”

He grabbed her roughly, the hand covering her mouth and nose almost suffocating her. “Cease your shouts, or I’ll hurt your stepdaughter. Lots of men will pay for a morsel like her. Fucking a virgin child cures the pox, I’ve heard.” He grunted when she twisted and landed a kick on his shin. His hot breath wafted across her cheek. “And don’t pretend you don’t care for her. I’ve had that bitch Hannah whining in my ear for weeks that you’ve stolen her man and the child likes you better.”

Fight
. Her breaths exited in a harsh pant. He’d hurt her, no matter what she did. She bit down on his fingers, and when he released her with a howl, she fled, running deeper into the maze.

He thundered after her. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see him gaining. She lifted her skirts and ran, panic giving her speed. Faster.
Faster
. Each successive breath burned, panic a beast nipping at her heels.

Where the devil was she? She hadn’t kept count of the turnings after they entered the maze.
Fool.
She raced around another corner and came to an abrupt stop, fighting for breath. If she wasn’t careful he’d trap her in a dead end, and he wouldn’t be stupid enough to let her escape again.

“You can’t escape me, Jocelyn.”

Bastard. She had to warn Leo. Tell him about Boynton and his threats.
But Leo isn’t the only one involved. What if the scandal embroils Melburn too?
She’d never forgive herself if she harmed both men with her soiled reputation.

“Come out, come out wherever you are.”

His singsong voice paralyzed her, weakened her knees. She stood in indecision, a hand clamped to her mouth, trapping her dread inside. Footsteps came closer and she fought a whimper. The brush of a limb against hedge indicated he was near.

“You can’t escape. My men are guarding the exit.”

Yes, but if she could work out where she was and lose him, she’d be able to call for help. If she screamed loud enough someone would hear.

Another footstep. A harsh breath.

“Stop this nonsense, Jocelyn.”

Never.

She waited until he drew level with the wall of hedge she cowered behind, waited until the very last minute before striking. She lashed out, chopping him across the throat with the side of her hand. Then, while he was fighting for breath, the air seesawing in and out of him, she kicked him in the balls.

Chapter Seventeen

She’s run off with Boynton. I told you that.
Hannah’s triumphant voice echoed through Leo’s mind. She’d sounded positive of Jocelyn’s betrayal. Pain lashed him, his steps faltering until commonsense reasserted itself. Jocelyn was happy at Merrivale. She was excited about the baby.

A foreign sound pierced his unhappy musing. Leo paused mid-stride, his head cocking to the left. He’d heard a noise. It repeated—this time a pained scream rippled on the air. “Jocelyn!” He was off running before the echoes of the cry died.

“I’m in the maze.”

She hadn’t run off
. “Keep talking. I’ll find you.” Leo exploded through the maze entrance, past a lingering man. “Jocelyn?”

“Leo, take care. Boynton is here somewhere.”

Leo tripped and cursed softly. “Why is he with you?”
Who is he to you?

“He’s not with me, you stupid man,” she snapped.

Relief roared through him at her indignation. “Why did you scream?”

“It wasn’t me.” Her voice sounded closer this time.

“Who—” He rounded the corner, and she was in front of him. “Are you all right?” He embraced her, frantic for reassurance.

“I’m fine. Please, let’s leave this maze.”

He swiftly guided her through the shadows, down the gravel path to the exit. The man who’d lingered at the entrance had disappeared.

“What happened?” He wanted to scoop her up and hug her to his chest, yet there were so many unanswered questions. “Is Boynton still in the maze?”