A Convenient Bride (33 page)

Nodding, they hurried off. Richard watched as they made their way down the hall. Miriam was almost to her door when something odd caught his eye. The hem of her nightdress was damp and slightly soiled.

The only explanation for that condition was if she had been out wandering the dew-covered grounds.

A feeling of dread crept through him. Could she be the woman in the forest? Did she have a lover?

He wanted to dismiss the idea. Meek and shy Miriam was not the bold sort of woman who would tryst in the darkness with a lover. Or was she?

Could he answer that definitively? She’d lived in his house for almost three years, but how much had he really paid attention to her comings and goings? Next to the opulent Bethany, she faded into the background. If there was something to be learned about his houseguest, it was time he found out what.

Tomorrow, he’d get answers. Tonight, they had a housebreaker to find. Richard went to join the hunt.

The entire house was searched, from the lowest level to the attic above. Not a nook or corner, a bed or a wardrobe was missed. Whoever had invaded his household had made his escape.

Richard ordered every window and door to be locked, then sent the staff off to bed. Frustrated, he finally walked with heavy footfalls back to his room, to Brenna and his son.

The room was lit with firelight and one candle. He locked both the hallway and the sitting-room doors. In the dim light, he could see James sleeping peacefully in his crib and Brenna curled up on the bed.

Her eyes were closed, and her cheeks were tear streaked. Evidently, she’d cried herself to sleep.

His heart tugged. Brenna was a woman who could face down nearly any adversary and come out the victor. She would kill to keep their son from harm. But when it came down to the frightening events of this evening, she was still a mother first and terrified for the welfare of her child.

Richard glanced to the chair and back down at his wife. Without hesitation, he climbed in next to her on the bed and wrapped her snuggly in his arms.

And spent the rest of the evening alert for danger.

B
renna awoke to her son fussing and her husband asleep beside her. She went to James and fed him. It was still dark outside, and she heard a light patter of rain on the window glass. Another damp day was ahead.

Thankfully, once his belly was full, the baby fell back to sleep. She returned him to his crib and stoked the fire.

Unable to resist the pull of her husband’s warmth, she quickly climbed back under the coverlet and snuggled close. If not for her daily responsibilities, she’d be content to stay hidden away with Richard and James all day.

“Your feet are cold,” Richard grumbled, when she worked her feet under his breeches-clad legs.

“I was feeding your son,” she said. “Surely you cannot begrudge me a bit of warmth on this stormy morning.”

He opened his eyelids just enough to frown before twisting her legs with his. Brenna let out a happy sound. Her toes started to warm up.

“Thank you, Richard.” The feeling of rightness lying beside him was not lost on her, and she hoped he felt the same. But she’d not press the issue for fear of running him off. Wanting to bed her and loving her were two difference issues. And she’d not be satisfied until she had both.

“Did you find any sign of the housebreaker?” she asked softly, so as not to wake James.

“We did not. Nanny’s screams sent him fleeing the house.”

“That is disappointing.” She stared into the fire. “What can you do next?”

“I will post guards and send for Jones. From our conversations, I learned that he has an investigative background of his own. We need to take the story of the dead maids seriously. We can no longer dismiss his concerns. The killer may be here.”

Brenna pushed up onto her elbows. Her stomach knotted. “You cannot think those crimes are connected to our housebreaker?”

“It cannot be ruled out,” Richard said. “A torn piece of your writing paper was found under the body in London. I am not one to believe in coincidences. Whoever killed that girl is connected to you through the killing, either by accident or by design. The question remains, why?”

“Yes, why?” Brenna echoed. She glanced at the crib.

“James will be carefully guarded,” Richard assured her. “When he is not with us, Nanny and a footman will be watching him. There will not be a repeat of last night.”

She took some comfort in his words and tried to hold back her fear of the unknown culprit. “It terrifies me to think the housebreaker might also be a killer. Had Nanny not awoken and screamed—” She could not finish the thought.

Richard pressed his mouth to her temple. “Fretting over what did not happen will make you ill, love. James is safe.”

“I know you are right.” She reached deep for strength. They faced a faceless foe. Richard needed her to be strong. “Nanny made a formidable guard. The housebreaker is lucky to have escaped uninjured.”

“He is, indeed.” Richard kissed her head, then rolled from the bed. He padded barefoot to the window. “I want to ride the property this morning to look for clues the housebreaker may have left behind.” He leaned to peer up at the sky. “Excellent. The rain has abated.”

“I am coming with you.” Brenna kicked off the coverlet and gained her feet. The cold floor made her hesitate, but only
for a moment. Chilled feet were not worth crawling back into bed. She wanted to help catch the culprit.

“You will stay here with James.”

She ignored his command, went to the wardrobe, and pulled out a habit in dark green. “Our son might have been kidnapped. I’ll not sit by and let some evildoer threaten my family. I will ride with you. Two pairs of eyes are better for searching.”

“Will it help me to argue?”

She glanced sidelong. “It will not. However, if you want to assist, you can call for Agnes to help me dress and for Nanny and the footman to watch the baby. Then I shall be ready posthaste.”

Muttering under his breath, Richard pulled the bell cord. Soon both husband and wife were dressed and ready.

Brontes and Richard’s gelding were brought around. James was in safe care, so Brenna focused on the mission ahead. She and Richard rode the perimeter of the manor, finding nothing in the wet grass. Any boot prints had been washed away.

They expanded the search in a wider circle. Brenna went one way and Richard the other. They met near the garden.

“Nothing,” Brenna said.

“You check the south pond, and I’ll follow the creek north,” he said, turning his horse about.

Brenna followed the south path and rode around the pond. Disappointment welled over the lack of clues. She did a second cursory ride around the pond before giving up. She headed in Richard’s direction. He was some distance from where he’d left her. She urged Brontes into a run to catch up. As she approached, he swung down from the gelding.

“There is a partial hoof print here in the mud.” He touched the print and rolled wet soil between his fingers. “It’s impossible to know how fresh it is. The rain damaged much of it. It could be days old.”

“Or made last night,” Brenna countered. She nudged Brontes closer. “If it was our housebreaker, it appears he went that way.”

“I agree. We should check the forest.” Richard urged his horse into a lope. Brenna followed. She kept her attention focused on the ground for hoof marks.

The forest gave up no obvious clues. Though a man could easily hide in the brambles, a horse would be exposed. And there was no sign of a horse as they peered through the trees.

Richard took off his hat and rubbed his forehead. “Next is the dower house. It has been locked for years. Still, if someone was determined to break the lock, it would not be difficult.”

“I didn’t know you had a dower house.”

Richard led onward. “My mother would go there when Father slipped into one of his rages. She considered it her sanctuary. I closed it up after she died. I had no use for it.”

Ten minutes later, the two-story cottage came into view. Set back in a small grove, Brenna could see that it had once been pretty, an ideal place for solitude. Though it still stood, it had fallen into disrepair. The weeds had taken over the small yard, and the roof looked ramshackle.

“Damn,” Richard muttered, as he swung down from his horse. “I should have taken better care of the house.”

He walked over to help Brenna down. “I suspect it was lovely when your mother came here. The stone is still in good condition. It wouldn’t take much to fix it up.”

“Hmm.” Richard steered Brenna around a fallen tree. “I’ll send workmen to make the repairs. We might want to use it someday.”

Brenna thought it a perfect place for her and Richard to be alone. Someday when they had half a dozen children, they’d want somewhere to steal some privacy.

“The lock is broken.” Richard cursed low and pushed the door open. The door squeaked on its hinges. They stepped gingerly over the threshold. There was no sign of wild animals.

“This house is surprisingly clean,” Brenna remarked, and swiped her glove over the top of a narrow table. A minimal layer of dust clung to her fingertips.

“Hmm. Something is amiss.” Richard walked through the house, Brenna behind him. He pushed open the door to a large bedroom and cursed. “It is as I suspected. Someone has recently used the cottage.”

The bed was unmade, and a pair of candles stood on the bedside table. At the foot of the bed, half-eaten food lay on two plates, sitting on a tray next to a wineskin.

“I think we’ve found where our lovers meet.” Brenna walked over to the tray. “The food is not old.”

“We will post guards should they return and send maids to clean up this mess.” He examined the room, taking care to look under the bed and anywhere clues might have been left. “Our trespassers were careful. Nothing personal was left behind.”

Brenna touched his arm. “We will catch them, and our housebreaker. I am sure of it.”

Richard stared down at the bed. Suspicion led in one direction. “I think I can name one of the lovers.”

“Who?”

He looked down at her. “Miriam’s nightdress was damp last night. I suspected she’d met someone outside the hall but have not had a chance to interview her today.”

“Miriam?” Brenna shook her head. “Not Bethany?”

“I was just as puzzled as you. But there is no other reason for her to be wandering the grounds at night. Everyone was warned by the Runners to stay inside after dark. She’d not risk her safety unless she knew the party she was meeting.”

This was a strange turn. Brenna tried and failed to imagine Miriam and her secret lover tangled together on these sheets.

“She’d not have the courage to venture out alone. You are correct; she must have met someone.” Brenna glanced at the bed. “However, this cottage is quite a distance from the manor. It would take almost an hour to cover this much ground on foot.”

“Unless he met her on horseback by the creek.”

“That is possible,” she agreed. “We only found that one print and assumed they’d gone back to the forest. Yet they could have veered west and come here.”

Richard stared at her and smiled. “You have a very deductive mind, Wife. I wonder if I need to send for Jones at all. By the end of the week, you should have this case solved.”

Brenna matched his smile. “We make a very good pair of investigators.” She reached out and put her hand on his chest. He peered down at her hand, his eyes warming. When he did not step back, she became emboldened. What better place to steal a kiss, a real kiss, than an empty cottage?

“Kiss me, Richard.” She gave him no time to protest. She
rose up onto her toes, gripped his coat lapels tightly in both fists, and pressed her mouth to his.

Any hesitation lasted no more than one breath. His arms came around her, locking her body against his. He groaned and plunged his tongue into her mouth. Brenna moaned in agreement.

The kiss was hot and deep. Brenna felt herself walked backward until her legs hit the dressing table. Richard picked her up and sat her on the surface, pressing himself between her legs. She pushed his coat off his shoulders as he tried to get his fingers around the lace at her bodice.

“Brenna,” he breathed, tugging the laces open.

“Love me, please, Richard,” she begged, breathless as he reclaimed her mouth.

A shout from outside tore them apart. “Milord! Milord!” Footsteps breached the cottage door.

Panicked, Brenna pulled her bodice together, and Richard quickly shucked back into his coat, where it hung at his elbows.

He turned and walked to the bedroom door, blocking her from view. She quickly put herself to rights.

“What is it, Carl?” He called out. The servant joined him.

“There is a body, Milord,” Carl said, his breath coming in harsh gasps. “Down in the meadow near the sheep barn. It’s a woman. She’s been murdered.”

Brenna’s breath caught.

“Damn,” Richard growled. Brenna tied her bow and hurried after the two men, who were halfway down the hallway. The three of them rushed from the house. Richard helped her onto the saddle, and they were off at a run.

“The shepherd’s dog found her,” Carl shouted, to be heard over the horses. “I knew you’d want to be contacted first. I followed your tracks to the dower house.”