A Persistant Attraction (28 page)

She makes no mention of plans to return.

Miss Elise Halverston

She would be there alone, with only a handful of servants, most of them old as the hills. His estate would be one of the first places Mouton or d’Eglantine would look if they learned Amanda was no longer in London.

“I must get to her quickly. Might I borrow a horse?” Cassandra shook her head. “You’re not going anywhere until you explain why my sister left London without you.”

“She overheard some men talking at a party. She believes I seduced her to win a bet.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Then why does she think you did?”

“I signed the book, but only to protect her.” Mark growled. “How could such a thing protect her?’

“Mouton, the man I now believe is truly Walter Linton, suggested the bet. If I’d refused, my regard for Amanda would have been obvious. I had to keep playing the role of the rake.”

Cassandra sighed. “You could have told her what you’d done.”

“I was afraid she wouldn’t understand.”

“Why do men insist on behaving like idiots?”

Rhys smiled for the first time since he’d arrived. “I don’t know, but I love your sister. I had a ring made especially for her. I was going to give it to her the night she ran away, along with a proposal for another ceremony this fall. I’d still like to do so if she will listen to reason.”

Mark snorted. “Good luck with that. The Halverston sisters are not likely to be plied with reason.”

Cassandra scowled at him. “Will she be safe in Cornwall?” Rhys wanted to protect Cassandra, especially in her pregnant state, but she already knew what had happened in London, and he couldn’t lie. “I hope so. Neither Mouton nor d’Eglantine has surfaced. D’Eglantine’s likely smart enough to stay hidden, but Mouton is stupid and bent on revenge.”

Mark frowned. “I’ll go with you.”

Rhys considered accepting Mark’s offer in case Amanda was in trouble, but he couldn’t risk his friend’s life when he was about to become a father. “No, stay with Cassandra. If Mouton is Walter, it’s not inconceivable that he’d come after her as well.

I’ll find Amanda and keep her safe.”

Mark frowned. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“We could all go.”

Both men stared at Cassandra as if she’d grown an extra head.

“Well, I could.”

Mark glowered at her. “Not a chance with you carrying our child.” Cassandra glanced down at her growing belly and tears formed in her eyes. “I want to help Amanda. I need to tell her to listen to Rhys. I don’t want her to make the same mistake I almost made.” Mark kissed his wife, and their obvious love for each other made Rhys’s heart ache.

Rhys assured Cassandra he would give Amanda the message. He wanted Amanda to love him so desperately it hurt. Would Amanda listen to her sister’s words?

Mark pulled the bell and the butler appeared nearly instantaneously. “Please have Thor saddled for Mr. Stanton and provide him with the necessary supplies for a ride to his estate in Cornwall.”

“Yes, sir.” The man bowed and stepped out of the room.

“I’ll send a message as soon as I find her.” Cassandra embraced him before he left. “Find my sister and make her see reason, no matter how she protests. Insufferable as you can be, you’re the right man for her.” Rhys smiled. “I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.”

“Good. Now go find Amanda.”

*

Amanda spread a blanket on the ground and took a deep breath of salt air. As she looked down onto the churning sea from her vantage point on the cliffs, London seemed a million miles away. Her chest still ached from the pain of Rhys’s betrayal, but the beauty of the land around her eased that pain. She’d never been happy in London. The country suited her much better.

If only she could stay in Cornwall forever, she might be happy. But sooner or later Rhys would come and she would have to return to London to help her aunt pack up her household. At least the Season was at an end and she could disappear from society for a while. She had no desire to see anyone, not even the few people she considered friends.

The sound of hoof beats drew her attention. Who would be riding this desolate stretch at this hour? Had someone come from the house? When the rider came into view, her heart skipped a beat. She could have guessed his identity by his stoutness and bushy hair but his eye patch made her certain. It was Mouton, or rather Walter Linton, if she and Rhys were right. She looked around for a weapon, fighting the urge to flee. She’d never outrun him while he was on horseback.

She’d thought she was safe away from London. Obviously she’d been a fool. She should never have left the house on her own. Suddenly she longed for Rhys so deeply,

tears came to her eyes. As angry as she was at him, she still loved him. Now she might never see him again.

Mouton dismounted, a sickening smile on his face. “So I’ve found you at last. What did you do to your precious husband to make him leave you all alone for me?”

“He hasn’t left me. He’s at the house now and intent on joining me. It would be wise for you to leave this property at once.”

Mouton took a step closer to her. She clutched the rock she’d picked up. “You lie so prettily, but I know you’re all alone. The villagers were most kind in helping me find my way here.”

Of course the villagers wouldn’t have known to keep her presence a secret or to pretend Rhys was here as well. They thought she’d simply come down early to start the process of opening the house. As far as she knew none of them were aware of the true nature of Rhys’s work or the danger they were in at present.

Mouton took another step toward her. She considered throwing the rock, but if she missed, she wouldn’t get a second chance. She needed to wait until he was closer and catch him off guard. She studied his face. He’d done an excellent job of altering his appearance, but he was Walter Linton, she was certain of it. Maybe she could startle him with her revelation.

“We beat you once, Walter, and we’ll beat you again.” He laughed. “So you did know. I wondered. I planned to tell you before I killed you, anyway. I wanted you to know who was making you suffer.”

“Even if you kill me, Rhys will hunt you down. You will not survive.”

“Don’t be so sure of that. I have powerful allies.”

“Like you did before? Reddington and Katrina didn’t help you then, did they?

Katrina would have killed you like she did your brother.”

“Katrina was a fool. This time, I’ve found much smarter people to work with.”

“People who want to destroy England.”

He smiled. “What do I care as long as I have what I want?”

“And what is that?”

“Money and women who have no choice but to obey me.” He came closer. She had to try something. “You will never have me.” She brought her arm up to strike, but he was ready.

He wrenched her arm back, squeezing her wrist until the pain forced her hand open and the rock crashed to the ground. She beat at him with her free hand, but the blows did not affect him. He’d apparently learned a lot from his friends in Les Centimes. This was not the same buffoon who’d fled London after his brother’s death.

Her heart hammered. She had to do something. She was not going to die out here alone, never seeing Rhys again.

Walter captured her other arm and began tying them behind her with rope he produced from his coat pocket. She fought, wrenching her shoulders as she pulled against his hold and kicking back with her feet, but she couldn’t get loose. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let him see her cry.

He pushed her down when he’d finished with the ropes. She couldn’t control her fall, and she barely turned in time to stop her nose from being crushed. The impact jarred her, but she recovered, quickly maneuvering herself to stand. She had to try to run. It was her only chance.

As she got her feet under her, Walter fired a pistol. The bullet flew past her, ruffling the tall grass at her feet.

“Stand still, or the next one won’t miss.”

Walter moved toward her again. Her heart pounded against her ribs. What was she going to do?

But her time was up. She saw only a blur as his gun slammed into the side of her head. The world darkened. She tried to claw her way out of the pain, but she failed. The last thing she saw was his laughing eyes.

“What do you mean you let her go out unescorted?” Rhys’s heart pounded against his chest. He’d ridden at top speed since leaving Mark’s house, praying he would find Amanda safe at his estate.

“She insisted she wanted to be alone. I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t. You of all people should have known not to let my wife tear off on her own.” Rhys’s butler, Charrings, was the only one of his servants who knew the truth about his line of work. He knew what dangers might lurk for Rhys and his family. Yet Rhys knew he couldn’t wholeheartedly blame Charrings. Amanda was a hard woman to refuse.

Rhys pressed his hand against his forehead and closed his eyes. Fear was constricting his chest, cutting off his ability to breathe. He had to get himself together. The one thing that would get you killed faster than anything else in his line of work was uncontrollable emotion.

When Rhys looked up again, Charring inclined his head. “I’m sorry, sir. I thought you’d left your organization.”

Rhys sighed with disgust. “So did I. Do you know precisely where she went?” Charrings’s face colored. “No, sir. Only that she would be down by the sea. She expected to return for the evening meal.

“Did she take anything with her?”

“A blanket, a basket of food and a book, sir.” If she’d run away again, she’d been poorly prepared, and that wasn’t like Amanda. It was growing dark. They dined early in the country so Amanda was hours late. “I’m going to get a fresh mount and begin a search. If she returns to the house, see that she stays inside and send a footman to find me. I’ll start my search along the cliffs.”

Rhys wished Mark were with him. He was in no shape to conduct an investigation.

But that had to change. Amanda’s life depended on it.

Grisly scenarios flashed through Rhys’s mind as he made his way to the stables. He imagined Amanda slipping on one of the rocky paths to the beach and falling to her death on the rocks below. He imagined finding her lifeless body, dead at the hands of Mouton or d’Eglantine. He’d never been a man to consider God much, but he prayed as he never had before, longing to find her alive, desperate not to have failed another woman he loved.

Moments later he was galloping down the road that led to the cliffs. He pulled hard on the reins. Something hung twisted in a tree where the path curved and began to follow the cliff line.

He leapt from his horse and hurried to the tree, hardly waiting for the animal to stop.

The object in the tree was a blanket, likely the one Amanda had taken with her. He searched the ground nearby and found her book and the picnic basket. Could she have simply gone for a walk and left her possessions, intending to come back for them?

He searched the area more thoroughly, and his heart stopped when he saw charred paper that indicated a pistol had been fired. Panic rose in his chest, but he fought it. He had to distance himself from his emotions, or he’d never save Amanda. If she were still alive to be saved.

He walked back the road and discovered horse tracks heading away from the cliffs—

a single animal. He searched the area around the tree one last time, not wanting to miss any clues. On this pass, he found a frayed strand of rope. A scenario formed in his mind.

He didn’t like it, but if he were right, then there was a chance Amanda was still alive.

There was no need to tie up a corpse.

He guessed that Mouton or d’Eglantine had shot Amanda when she resisted capture then tied her up. There were some storage sheds in the direction they’d ridden. The buildings were used to house the grain before it was transferred to the main silo. But the fields around them had lain fallow this year so they were not in use. They’d make a

perfect hiding place for a man with a hostage. He prayed he’d find Amanda in one of the sheds. Alive.

He loaded a second pistol, tucked it into his boot, then whistled for his mount.

*

Amanda’s head throbbed. She tried to move and realized her arms were tied behind her. With a sickening jolt, she remembered Walter tying her up and rendering her unconscious. Where was she now?

She opened her eyes slightly. Walter was sitting near her and d’Eglantine sat next to him. Damn! If it had only been Walter she might have stood a chance of escaping, but with her hands tied and her head pounding, she’d never get away from both of them.

She looked around as best she could without drawing attention. They appeared to be in a small barn or storage shed. Her gaze returned to Walter. She shuddered at the thought of what he might do to her. She had to find a way out.

Walter turned his head and saw her watching him.

She started to sit up, but her stomach lurched. She lay back down lest she vomit.

Walter lifted his weapon. “Don’t move.”

She gave him a vicious look, but she had little choice but to obey his command.

“I know just where to shoot you to bring the most pain without killing you. You
will
die today, but it’s up to you how easily you go.” She thought she heard the distant sound of hoof beats mixed with the crashing waves. But she couldn’t be right, could she? No one knew where she was, and she’d not seen anyone besides Walter all afternoon. But just in case, she tried to stall. “You learned a lot in France, didn’t you?”

He laughed. “Yes, I did, more that that idiot Reddington could ever hope to teach me.” His hands went to the button of his pants. “Now get on your knees so you can show me all the whore’s trick’s Stanton has taught you.” Amanda swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and shook her head in refusal.

He trained his pistol on her. “Do it. Now.”

D’Eglantine frowned. “Just fuck her then shoot her, Mouton. I don’t have time for games. We’ve got important business to conduct here.” Walter curled his lips as he continued to stare at Amanda. “Relax. We’ll take care of Stanton once I’m done with his wife. He’s not here now, anyway. We might as well have some fun.”