Strictly Forbidden (29 page)

Her face became an angry scowl. With a huff, she lifted several pairs of gloves and
shoved them atop the stockings. Gavin was no less happy.

Kira was right
. P
eople would talk
if they knew he and James’s fiancée traveled alone together. But he felt sure he could
arrange a falsehood or two that would eliminate suspicion. Yes, they could circulate
the story that Kira was returning to her Suffolk home and—and Gavin could invent a
trip to Birmingham to check on the end of the railroad line. That sounded good
,
smart even, despite the bottle of brandy he’d consumed earlier.

“You mock me,” Gavin accused.

“You discerned that all alone? Perhaps you’ll learn yet.”

“Damnation, you have a nasty temper!”

Her cutting stare sliced him. “It’s how I respond to dictatorial boors.”

“I don’t care. I am going with you.”

“Darius is my brother, my family!”

“James is my cousin, my responsibility.”

Kira glared at him in stubborn silence, but she couldn’t refute that.

With clenched teeth, she regarded him. “I refuse to travel with you.”

“As you wish. Until we find Darius and James, I shall travel behind you.” He smiled,
liking the idea already. “Wherever you go, I shall follow, quite closely. In fact,
about six inches from your back—
”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Her narrowed eyes told him she very much feared he would.

Gavin flashed her his brightest grin yet and left to start his own packing.

* * * *

“Remember, you’re my cousin,” Gavin whispered to her as they placed their horses in
the care of a young boy and headed toward the Tall Tree Inn, centered in the Cornish
countryside.

Kira wanted to refute him. But she knew from the past several nights of travel that
no reputable innkeeper would rent her a room if she traveled unescorted, despite having
money. As if that didn’t flare her temper to new heights, the fact that Gavin took
advantage of the situation, remaining annoyingly close, irritated her even more.

“Perish the thought,” Kira murmured instead.

Gavin said nothing, but the hand he tightened around her arm told her that he heard.

Good. She hoped sincerely that something she said made him feel half as wretched as
she did. Besides the fact every muscle in her body ached from spending hours upon
hours in the saddle, she had to contend with the dreadfully handsome scoundrel who
had broken her heart, who forever tried to speak to her but never uttered a single
word of marriage. Apparently he wanted her to be happy, despite his ruining and abandoning
her.

How she wished they would find Darius and James in the next five minutes. But that
wasn’t likely to happen. Over the past five days, she and Gavin had found an assortment
of innkeepers who remembered either her brother, his cousin—or both—but no one had
any other details to impart. In her bags, she had hidden Darius’s letter to Mr. Burgess
,
and she had no intent to share it with her all-too-attractive nemesis. Now that they
had reached Tavistock, Kira hoped to lose Gavin and see to this mess herself. He could
rot wherever he chose, as long as he wasn’t near her. For when he came near, she was
hard-pressed to keep her heartache at bay.

Once ensconced in the inn under false names, the innkeeper’s wife bustled
them
into the only remaining private parlor with Cornish pasties and strong, hot tea.

“This’ll nourish yer weary bones.”

Kira stared at the aging woman, who was robust and buxom with a graying chignon wrapped
tightly at the back of her head. The innkeeper’s wife looked like the kind of woman
designed to survive the harsh, rock-strewn countryside.

When the woman finished setting the trays before them, she turned a smile to them.
Kira wanted to ask her questions about Darius and James. But she wanted to get the
woman alone to do it. Gavin could find his own information.

“I’ll return with yer scones and clotted cream, dearies.”

Before they could reply, she left.

Gavin turned to her, cup of tea in hand.

He looked ready to speak—again. Kira did not wish to hear anything he was inclined
to say.

“From the manner in which you insisted we lodge here, I assume that we’ve arrived
at our final destination,” he reasoned. “I insist you tell me of the information you
received before we left London.”

Actually, he’d already discerned it for himself, but Kira would rather cut her tongue
out than admit it. “Insist all you like.”

Taking a sip of the scalding tea, Gavin winced and set it aside. “Damnation, how can
I help you if you refuse to tell me anything?”

“I did not ask for your help.”

“You need it.”

He used the sharp, deep tones of his voice to intimidate her. But Kira refused to
succumb.

Instead, she looked at him without a hint of anger. “May I have the sugar?”

Impatiently, he thrust the bowl in her hand. “We’ll find them more quickly if you
tell me what you know.”

She disagreed, but tried to keep her reaction from her face. After putting two spoonfuls
into her tea, she handed the sturdy bowl back to him without comment.

“You know I’m right,” he added.

Silently, she stirred her tea, blew into the steaming brew to cool it, then took an
experimental sip. The countryside here bloomed beautifully in the spring, she thought,
gazing out the window. Cornwall held a wild sort of beauty, a quality of lovely that
could not be tamed. How interesting—

“You cannot refuse to speak to me whenever you please.”

Gavin sounded quite angry. Kira kept a satisfied smile to herself
and remained silent.

“Here we are,” said the innkeeper’s wife as she entered the room again. “Fresh scones
and clotted cream. Be certain ye shout at me if ye find yer needin’ more.”

Saints above, she really wished Gavin would leave. Maybe the sturdy woman remembered
something about Darius or James—or both. Perhaps she could wait until Gavin retired
for the night and approach the woman.

“Mrs. Kerr?” Gavin called to the woman, all charm and smiles.

Pain punched Kira in the stomach. She remembered when Gavin had smiled at her like
that
,
and she’d believed it meant he cared. Now she knew better
.

“Aye, Mr. Reeves?”

Gavin had chosen to use his housekeeper’s last name, for which she was grateful. At
least she could remember it.

“I wondered if you might remember a gentleman or two who I believe stayed here.”

Kira turned to him with a glare. Lord, she wanted to rip his tongue out. As if he’d
known her plan all along, he turned to her with a superior smile.

“I don’t know. We’ve lots of gentlemen passin’ through `ere.”

“I’m certain you do,” Gavin assured her. “Do you, by chance, remember a man named
James Howland?”

“Oh, yes. A very nice clergyman. He was here up until a week past. Said he was looking
for his fiancé’s brother.”

Kira wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but couldn’t
,
not until she knew what had happened to him and Darius.

“Indeed, that’s him. Did Mr. Howland say where he planned to travel once he left here?”

Mrs. Kerr frowned, her gray brows nearly knitting together. “No. In fact, he left
a few of his things behind and never returned for them. I still have them.”

Gavin turned to her with an alarmed stare. James might be many things, but forgetful
wasn’t one of them. Kira clenched her fists tight, trying to ignore the ribbon of
alarm winding through her.

“Do you recall the man Mr. Howland was seeking? His name was—
”

“Mr. Melbourne? Indeed.” The innkeeper’s wife fanned herself. “He weren’t the kind
of man a woman easily forgets, no matter her age. Tall and dark and foreign-looking
he was.”

Kira’s stomach leapt. The woman did remember!

“Do you know when he left or where he went?” Gavin asked.

His question held every bit of urgency that Kira herself would have used. Even better,
Gavin’s deep tones sounded more commanding.

Mrs. Kerr responded with a shake of her head. “He asked me a bushel of questions about
a nobleman new to the area, stayed for a day or two, then disappeared. He left money
behind to pay his bill, but
slipped out
in the middle of the night.” She shrugged. “I figured he needed to go to his sister,
the way he carried on about `er.”

Kira’s heart swelled with love and longing. Dear God, let Darius be safe. Let he and
James both be safe, in fact. Worry drenched her soul until she thought she might cry
right there in front of Gavin and the innkeeper’s wife.

“The nobleman,” he said, “what was his name?”

“That would be Lord Vance.” She smoothed her hands down the front of her wide, spotless
apron. “He’s a charming sort, I suppose. Recently let Fentlet Manor, not far from
here. It’s been vacant for nigh on ten years, so imagine our surprise when a London
gent takes up residence and says he’s looking for a place to settle away from the
bustle.”

Kira frowned. Lord Vance had said much the same thing when he’d let Benhollow Hall
in Suffolk this past winter.

“Is Lord Vance still in residence?” she asked the woman.

“Aye, as far as I know, though my sister’s oldest girl works as a maid for `im and
says she heard from his valet that he plans another trip to London soon. Family business.”
The broad woman nodded her squatty head, as if that explained everything.

“Of course,” Gavin returned smoothly. “Would you mind telling us how to find this
Fentlet Manor?”

“Aye. I’ll even have me mister draw ye a map.”

* * * *

The following morning, Kira awoke early, at least an hour before the sun, and dressed
in dark clothing with all haste. Gavin may have kept the map to Fentlet Manor in his
possession, but she had a fine memory, one that enabled her to recall every word of
Mr. Kerr’s directions. A woman alone might find it easier to navigate the grounds.
Perhaps she could pray Lord Vance did not see her and pretend to inquire about a post
in the house, see if the servants knew anything of Darius. It was worth a try.

Kira crept down the hall and descended the creaky stairs, wincing with every noise
she made. If she wasn’t careful, she would wake Gavin. He would insist on coming with
her. Granted, his help might be beneficial, and she would feel safer with him by her
side. But she simply didn’t want to deal with him. She was a grown, intelligent woman.
Why shouldn’t she search for her own brother and fiancé? No reason at all. After all,
they were lost because of her.

How she wished she had never met Lord Vance—or believed
a word the slithering snake uttered to her.

The common room was still and cold when she passed through, though a light from an
adjoining room, likely the kitchen, told her someone was awake. Treading carefully
for the door, Kira looked over her shoulder once
,
well, perhaps more than once
,
to see if Gavin followed.

Nothing.

Lightened by her confidence, she tiptoed a bit more quickly toward the door, opened
it just enough to slip out, then eased it shut behind her.

The morning chill was both damp and brutal. The wind swept across the moors here without
relent. Though spring had sprung in London
,
and the temperatures accordingly
,
it had not reached mornings in this distant outpost from civilization.

Huddling into her cloak, she raced for the stables, praying this was the day she found
Darius and James
, t
he day she could breathe easily again, certain the villain who had ruined her good
name had not also killed her brother. The day she and James could set a wedding date
and she could forget the cad who had ruined her.

Kira did her best to shake off thoughts of Gavin. But when she flung open the stable
door, he made that impossible.

Gavin stood in the stable, saddling his horse, sporting freshly-brushed hair that
gleamed in the lamp light and a smug smile. He looked well dressed and well rested,
and she resented him because she felt neither
of
those things herself.

“I expected you at least a quarter hour ago,” he drawled. “Oversleep, did you?”

Without a word, Kira stepped around him. When she would have passed him by altogether
to reach her mare, he grabbed her arm and pulled her against him.

His fingers corded around her with warmth and steel. Her gaze flew up to his face.
He wasn’t angry, but he was deadly determined. And she found the familiar angles of
his handsome face impossible to ignore.

“Let’s understand each other. James is a part of my family, just as Darius is a part
of yours. You know something I don’t. Therefore, I will be as close as your shadow
until we determine what happened to them.”