The Merchant and the Clergyman (20 page)

“Mr. Shaw,” he shouted again as he pushed
forward. His shoes squelched in the fetid mud underneath the
tangle. The brush was wet from the recent rain, so soon his cassock
was soaked to his hips and swathed him like a mummy’s garb.

After several yards, James became convinced
he’d headed the wrong way along the streambed. He immediately
turned and headed back to the mill wheel to explore the dried
waterway on the other side. As he passed the great wheel, he
recalled Declan’s words about wishing to tie him to it. What a
delightful thrill the idea had given him. Such base and unholy
desires lived in his breast that he seemed incapable of exorcising.
And now, as much as James didn’t believe in a vengeful God, he
couldn’t help but feel Declan’s disappearance was some sort of
divine punishment.

What if he’s not lost at all? Squire
Darnley may be right and he’s simply left. Last night was his
farewell act, and you didn’t even realize it.
But no, his
logical mind pushed away the nagging thought. Declan would not have
left without his Aunt Mary. It wasn’t his way to abandon a job
half-finished.

“Declan,” he shouted louder than ever, not
worrying about using the informal address, only praying that it
might reach his lover’s ears.

When James had gone as far as he could in the
opposite direction, reaching an impenetrable thicket of thorny
bushes, he awkwardly crawled back up the steep bank to the woods
above. There, he spotted Kip grimly marching through the trees not
far away.

“Declan, come out now!” Kip roared, as if
they were still boys and his cousin were playing hide-and-seek
tricks on him. He tripped over something and fell forward,
disappearing from James’s view into the thicket of underbrush.

A fallen log perhaps? But no. James began to
walk, then to run, risking a fall of his own to rush toward Kip. He
pictured the sprawled body in the weeds that had tripped Kip.
Declan dead!
No, merely unconscious
, he reassured himself
when his mind took a more dire direction.
Why would you even
think that?
What would kill a man in these woods? Declan hadn’t
fallen down a ravine. Maybe merely tripped and hit his head on a
rock.
Which could still be lethal
, the sinister voice
whispered. James’s mind argued back and forth in the seconds it
took to cross the ground and reach Kip, who was grasping a sapling
to aide him in climbing to his feet.

“Here! He’s here!” Kip called. “And I think
he’s…” He leaned to examine the prone body.

James’s heart completely stopped beating as
he rushed toward the two men, one kneeling and scrabbling at the
back of the other sprawled amongst the weeds.
Don’t say
it.

“He was asleep, and I tripped over him.
Someone has tied his hands and feet.” Kip flourished a strip of
grubby cloth. “I had the devil of a time getting this off his
hands. I think it’s his tie.”

“You,” Declan muttered in a dry, cracked
voice and sat up. He swatted away Kip, who knelt to help Declan
with the strip of heavy cloth tightly binding his ankles.

Kip straightened and held out a hand. “Let me
help you up, old fellow.”

“You!” The word boomed out this time, and
Declan lurched to his feet without taking Kip’s hand. “You vile
bastard.” He lunged at Kip, driving a shoulder into his cousin’s
stomach and carrying them both back several steps. Their momentum
was stopped by a tree trunk in Kip’s back. He hit it and fell to
the ground with Declan on top of him, pummeling him with his
fists.

James was so shocked, he couldn’t move for a
second, but then he launched himself forward, grabbed hold of the
back of Declan’s jacket, and tried to haul him off. “Mr. Shaw.
Declan. Stop!”

Kip protectively covered his head as Declan
continued to rain down blows. “Have you gone stark raving mad?” Kip
yelped and tried to squirm away.

James got the two men apart, grabbed Declan’s
shoulders, and forced him to meet his gaze. “Are you all right? How
were you injured?” He touched the bloody wound on Declan’s
temple.

Declan should have been an absurd figure with
his crumpled collar and bloodstained formal wear. James thought he
looked beautiful and blessedly alive.

“How was I injured, indeed?” Declan shot a
glare past James’s shoulder at his cousin.

James looked toward the man cradling his
bloody nose. “Kip?”

Blue eyes widened above sheltering hands.
“Are you suggesting I…? He is insane!”

By this time, the rest of the ragtag search
party was charging through the woods toward them. Those chums of
Kip’s hooted and tallyhoed as if they were overgrown boys playing
at being Indians. From their drunken chattering, it seemed someone
had brought a flask along and they’d all begun to view the search
as quite a lark, something to chat about later in their clubs.

“Get rid of them,” Declan growled. “We need
to have this out without an audience.”

“Have what out? What do you think I’ve done?”
Kip’s voice was muffled behind his palms.

Declan was right. Whatever had happened and
whatever was about to happen, no drunken society boys were needed
here to spread gossip. James got up and went toward the pack,
gaining their attention, using his bible study teacher’s voice.
“Mr. Shaw is all right. He hit his head and lost consciousness, but
everything is all right now. Would you all please be so kind as to
go back to the church and tell everyone he’s been found? I believe
some of the villagers have gone to search other areas. Make certain
they hear the news too.” He gazed into the nearest pair of glazed
eyes. “Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir. Aye aye.” The drunken man mock
saluted him and turned toward his mates. “Come on, then, lads.
Let’s away to the church, and then maybe, finally, someone will
give in and let us at that wedding breakfast. I say we’ve earned
it.”

His words were greeted by a number of “here
heres” and silly comments, and then Kip’s friends trooped off
without even bothering to take a close look at the man they’d been
on a mission to find. Just as well, because Declan had gathered his
second wind and had already begun attacking his cousin, verbally
this time.

“I know it was you. I saw you lurking at the
edge of the woods last night.”

“God’s sake, Declan. I was at dinner in full
view of everyone. Why in the world would I have stalked you like
some sort of maniac?” Kip blotted blood from his nose with his
handkerchief.

“Your eye is injured, and I managed to get in
a hit,” Declan began angrily, but then stopped. He craned his neck
and examined Kip. “Except I see that’s a fresh wound.”

Kip touched the corner of his eyebrow. “That
you just gave me, yes, and thank you very much!”

Declan frowned as if doubt had begun to creep
in. “You’ve followed me before, and there aren’t many men around
here shaped like you, with the height and the breadth of shoulders
and…” He trailed off.

“You can ask anyone! I never left the hall,
you arse. Whoever attacked you, it wasn’t me. Likely some wandering
footpad passing through the area. You sneak around in the night,
and you can’t be surprised when ill befalls you.”

Declan touched his fingers to the sticky open
wound on his head. James offered him his clean handkerchief, and
when Declan gazed at it blankly, James began to bind the gash
himself, holding the handkerchief in place by wrapping Jeannie’s
scarf around Declan’s head.

“So, what were the pair of you doing at the
mill?” Kip taunted. “Was it worth the trouble you got yourself
into? And made me postpone my wedding to boot.”

Declan suddenly patted at his waistcoat. “It
wasn’t a thief. He didn’t take anything. I’ve still got my watch.
This was a personal attack on me. Why?”

“Worry about why later.” James stopped
himself from taking Declan’s hand as he wished to. “You’re injured.
Right now we must get you to the doctor and have your head looked
at and—”

Declan held up a silencing hand. “No. I need
to follow this line of thought. There are only a few reasons, other
than robbing, that might make someone attack. One is…” He shot a
side glance at Kip. “One is, if I was seen in an act that offended
the watcher. But then it seems he would try to hurt the other
person involved as well. And why would anyone have been following
in the first place?” His eyes narrowed, and he cast another look at
Kip. “Has your father mentioned anything about me I should
know?”

Kip had been studying the blood on his
kerchief. Now he stared at Declan with round eyes. “Now you’re
suggesting my
father
was involved? You’re completely
unhinged.”

“Am I?” Declan squared his shoulders in what
James had begun to think of as his “roll up sleeves and get job
done” posture. “Your father didn’t like me asking so many questions
about your mother’s medical treatments. In fact, he was very clear
I should stop asking questions and leave her to his care.”

“As you should. Mother is fine. Just a little
muddled is all.” But Kip frowned and appeared doubtful. “Certainly
she takes her concoctions, but no more than most ladies. They all
have such delicate constitutions. There’s always something wrong
with women.”

“Your mother is not only unwell but unhappy.
Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” Declan demanded. “I intend to
take her on a visit to see her family after the wedding is over. I
feel fairly certain the squire wouldn’t care for that, so I’ve kept
the plan to myself, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had an
inkling I was up to something.”

“Do you truly believe he’d set a man to watch
you and then knock you over the head?” James had to speak up. The
story began to sound as preposterous as a stage melodrama.

Declan touched his bandaged head. “Maybe
things got out of hand. After all, I did rush at the man, yelling,
when I thought it was Kip. That’s when he hit me.”

“Brilliant,” Kip muttered. “You tried to
attack me! You never did like me. I always knew it. And I admired
you so. I can’t understand why I bothered.” He sniffed a bubble of
blood and added glumly. “Father never liked me either. I embarrass
and disappoint him.”

James winced. Kip sounded so like a pathetic
child. The man would never truly be an adult. He clung to the
slights and hurts of childhood and inflicted the pain he’d
experienced on others simply to prove he had some power. All too
easy to see that now.

“I couldn’t even hold on to Emily, the one
thing he required me to do.”

“The match was his idea?” James asked.
“Because of her money.”

Kip nodded sullenly. “And now she’s not going
to marry me. You heard her.”

“There was a scene at the church today.”
James filled in Declan on what he’d missed.

“Good. I’m glad the girl saw the light before
it was too late.” Declan clicked his tongue when Kip gave a little
whimper at his words. “Don’t be pitiful, Kip. You know you didn’t
really want her. Stop allowing your father to make you a child. You
give him power over you, but it’s time you seized some for
yourself. Break away from his expectations of you, and help me
prepare your mother to travel.” He grunted. “Hell, you can even
come along and visit the family if you’d like to get away from here
for a while.”

“I could?” Kip perked up like a pup given a
treat. “But if Father cuts me off, what will I do for money?”

“It sounds as if there’s very little money
left for you as it is,” Declan said. “He’s run through my aunt’s
money and was counting on your marriage to fill the coffers.” He
started to get up and groaned.

“I know, I know,” Kip said gloomily.

“Steady now.” James took hold of Declan’s arm
and helped him up. “You must stop worrying about all this now. It
will be all we can do to get you from here back to the village.
Should’ve asked those men to send a carriage for you.”

“Nonsense, I can make it.” But Declan leaned
into him, and his arm rested heavily over James’s shoulders.

“Kip, help me,” James called.

Kip came to stand on Declan’s other side and
offer support. “I’ll do it. If my father cuts up about your plan to
let Mother go on a journey, I’ll defy him and give Mother the
holiday she deserves.” He sounded as if he was talking himself into
standing up to the squire.

James noticed Declan had wisely left out the
part about postponing Mary’s return indefinitely.

They began the long walk back to the village,
striding in unison and half dragging Declan along. An unlikely trio
that nevertheless had some odd connection to each other.

Kip seemed pathetically eager simply to be
accepted as a comrade. He looked across Declan’s body and spoke to
James. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit of an arse to you. I hope we can
all find a way to get along together.”

James smiled stiffly.
A
bit
of an
arse?
And he hoped he hadn’t heard a certain undertone in those
last three words. If
getting along
carried any suggestive
sort of meaning in Kip’s mind, James didn’t want to know about
it.

Chapter Sixteen

Declan had trouble thinking around the pain
screaming through his head, as difficult to ignore as the London
Express roaring into the station. His body throbbed from struggling
against his bindings and his throat hurt from yelling—he’d spent
hours shouting and rolling around, trying to find a sharp stone to
cut off the bindings. In the dark, that was an impossible task.
He’d given up when he’d rolled down a slight incline and smacked
his already aching head on a stump.

He’d slept. When he’d awakened to Kip leaning
over him, he’d thought the blighter had come to finish him off. On
learning his cousin hadn’t attacked him after all, Declan felt
reassured and—even more odd—nearly fond of the idiot. As annoying
as Kip could be, there was a drop or two of decency in
him—certainly more than his father possessed.