The Outcast's Redemption (The Infamous Arrandales) (18 page)

‘You surprise me,’ said Wolf drily. He checked the weapon and carefully put it in his pocket. ‘There is a light ahead. Could it be our ferryman?’

‘It is certainly the signal,’ she said, peering into the darkness.

‘It could be a trap,’ he muttered. ‘Stay here in the shadows.’

She shook her head. ‘We stay together.’

There was a stubborn note in her voice and he decided not to waste time arguing.

‘Very well, but let me go first.’ Wolf touched his heels to the horse’s flanks and led the way towards the swinging light. His eyes darted about and he strained his ears for signs of danger, but there was no one save the ferryman, who silently beckoned them towards the waiting barge.

It took time and patience to persuade the horses to embark, but at last they were tethered securely and there was nothing for the passengers to do but to sit down out of the way while the crew plied their oars and rowed them across the wide expanse of the river. The night air was chill and they wrapped themselves in the thick cloaks that had been strapped to the saddles. They were far enough from the crew to talk without being overheard, and Grace braced herself for the questions she knew Wolf was burning to ask.

‘So why are you here rather than my valet?’

‘He can barely ride.’

‘What? Why the devil didn’t he say so?’

‘He saw it as his duty to follow your brother’s instructions.’

‘But to let you take his place,’ Wolf exclaimed wrathfully. ‘Of all the cowardly—’

‘Not at all. It was perfectly sensible that I should do so. I learned to ride astride as a child. You must admit I have not held you back.’

‘I will admit nothing.’

He sounded so much like a sulky schoolboy that Grace laughed and was immediately shocked at her reaction. There was nothing amusing about their situation. It was perilous. Wolf’s life was at stake, to say nothing of her reputation. Her amusement argued a most unfeminine lack of sensibility. Not what gentlemen wanted at all, she thought bleakly. Gentlemen liked weak, decorative females whom they could cherish and protect, not practical women with their own opinions. Years running her father’s household had taught Grace to be strong and resourceful, and much as she enjoyed the romances that graced her father’s library shelves she knew she was not suited to be one of those heroines who quailed in the face of adversity and turned to a hero to rescue her from danger. She was a practical female and there was nothing she could do about it. Thankfully, Loftus had not shown any romantic inclinations. Theirs would be a practical marriage and the most she expected from it was that her life would be useful.

Useful and dull.

‘Where is Kennet now?’

Wolf’s voice brought Grace back to the present.

‘He is taking your things to Arrandale.’

He leaned closer and said menacingly, ‘And just how, madam, did you discover he could not ride?’

Grace folded her hands in her lap.

‘From my maid,’ she said calmly. ‘Kennet was in the habit of talking to her while she waited for me outside the prison each day. She quizzed him today because he was looking so unhappy and he confessed he had not been on a horse more than a dozen times in his life, but he was determined to do his duty. I, however, thought that might wreck everything, so we drove to New Cross and I persuaded him to give up his place to me.’

‘No doubt you carry a set of boy’s clothes with you, for just such an eventuality.’

His sarcasm made her smile.

‘We were fortunate that it is market day. Janet purchased them for me.’

‘And then Kennet and your maid left you alone to carry out this hare-brained scheme.’

‘They were neither of them happy about it, but they could see it was for the best. I wrote a note for my aunt, telling her to send Janet and all my luggage on to the vicarage tomorrow and I will go there directly. No one will know I did not arrive by coach.’

‘Unless we are caught.’

‘Then we must make sure that does not happen.’

Her cool response shook a laugh from him. He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips.

‘I begin to think you will be wasted as the wife of a magistrate.’

Grace pulled her hand away. His words stung her cruelly. Wolf did not want her so why should he mock her for her choice? And if Loftus discovered what she had done she doubted he would marry her. She would live out her days as her father’s housekeeper. The choices were stark and neither of them appealing. The future stretched ahead of her, as dark and depressing as the river flowing silently around them.

Wolf rose. ‘We are nearing the bank. Let us get to the horses.’

* * *

They disembarked into an eerie, midnight world. Not a light showed in any of the buildings as they cantered through the deserted streets, heading northwards and guided by the stars. Grace had been warned that the land was marshy on this side of the river and they would need to keep to the roads, but eventually they left the flat plains behind and found themselves hedged about by woodland. Grace hesitated, not sure of her direction.

‘I had friends in this area as a boy,’ said Wolf. ‘We can ride cross-country and pick up the Newmarket road at Epping. I know the way.’

‘Thank you.’ Grace yawned and rubbed a hand across her eyes.

‘You are exhausted. We must find somewhere to rest.’ She tried to protest, but he cut her short, saying brutally, ‘You are no good to me if you are too fatigued to ride hard. If my memory serves we shall soon reach the Colchester road. Let us cross that and we will find somewhere in the forest to sleep.’

Grace nodded, too tired to speak. They set off again. It took all her concentration to follow Wolf and keep her horse from stumbling on the uneven ground. Clouds scudded across the sky, hiding the moon and plunging them into an even darker night. Wolf rode without pause and Grace marvelled at his ability to find his way unerringly along the most twisting lane, heading ever northwards. They crossed a broad highway and plunged again into thick forest. Grace was nearly dropping with fatigue by the time they reached a small clearing and Wolf announced they would stop for the night.

Grace wrapped herself in her cloak and sank down against a convenient tree, apologising that she had not thought to include any food for their journey.

‘No matter.’ Wolf dropped down beside her. ‘We will be in Arrandale in time for breakfast.’

The silence settled comfortably around them. An owl hooted softly in the distance and Grace instinctively moved closer to Wolf, who put his arm about her.

‘Do not tell me you are afraid of the dark,’ he teased her gently.

She chuckled. ‘Not at all. You are softer to lean against than a tree trunk.’

Her head had fallen to his shoulder. It was so comfortable resting against him, breathing in the faint but unmistakable masculine scent. She must sleep now, but perhaps, when she woke, she might turn her face up to his for another kiss. A delicious sense of anticipation filled her at the thought. She put her hand against his chest and snuggled closer.

‘Excuse me, I must check the horses.’

He eased himself away and Grace bit back a little mewl of disappointment. Hot tears pressed against the back of her eyes. She felt bereft, in need of comfort. Wolf was talking softly to the horses and she hoped he would come back to her soon. She felt safe when he was near, even though she knew she should not feel safe at all, especially when she was consumed by such a yearning to have him make love to her.

The memory of his kisses made her body hot then cold, as if a huge hand was squeezing her insides and turning them to water. She thought of what could happen here, in this sheltered glade. Helping her father in the parish, she knew the dangers of being too free with a man, but somehow that was of no consequence now. She wanted Wolf to lie with her and satisfy the aching longing that gnawed at her.

She would be ruined, of course. And there could be no question of marrying Loftus, but that seemed unimportant. She had always known she did not love Loftus, to cry off would hurt his pride, but not his heart. But what of her professed love for Henry? She had always believed she could never love anyone else but now she knew she loved Wolf Arrandale, and although nothing could come of it, she wanted to give herself to him, to feel the comfort of his arms, his body. Just once. Was that disloyal to Henry? It was strange that she should face this question now, when her mind and body were so tired, but perhaps that was why she could think of it, while her mind was clear of all the other obstacles.

Henry was dead. She had loved him, part of her would always love him, but Wolf had shown her that she could love again. What would Henry say to that, if he knew? She yawned and felt herself slipping further into sleep even as her imagination discussed it with him.

* * *

Wolf stood by his horse, smoothing the velvet nose and breathing deeply to fight down the desire that raged through his body. He had needed to get away from Grace and the almost unbearable temptation of having her in his arms, her body pressed so comfortably against his. She was a parson’s daughter, a virgin. She had risked everything to help him and he would not repay her by seducing her.

Why not?
whispered the devil on his shoulder.
She wants you, she was almost giving herself to you.

He closed his eyes. She was a lady. He knew she would not be able to enjoy a brief liaison and then walk away without being hurt.

You could marry her.

No.

Even if by some miracle he could prove his innocence, the stains of his past life could not be eradicated. She was too good for him, he could never make her happy.

You do not know that.

The devil would not be silenced.

Put it to her. Lay your heart and hand before her and let her decide. She is a woman and capable of making her own choices.

He stilled.

‘I could do that,’ he murmured as the horse snuffled softly and pushed against his hand. For the first time he saw a glimmer of hope.

She believes I am innocent. She has risked everything to help me. Perhaps, after all, she might care enough to marry me.

He straightened his shoulders. It would be her choice. He would move heaven and earth to prove his innocence and make her mistress of Arrandale, but if not, if he failed, they could live abroad, content with each other’s company.

If she truly loved him.

She certainly did not love her fiancé and Wolf decided if Grace was going to throw herself away on a man it should be him. He would love her as she should be loved. He would worship her.

Wolf’s spirits rose higher than they had done for a long time as he walked back to Grace. In the darkness he could just make out her soft shape, wrapped in the cloak. Silently he lay down beside her and rested his hand on the swell of her hip, felt the dip where it fell away to the dainty waist and his blood heated again. He would wait for the parson to marry them, if she wished it, but if she wanted him now... He closed his eyes. It must be her choice.

‘Grace, love.’

She stirred. ‘You understand, do you not, my dear? Oh, Henry.’

The words were soft as a sigh but there was no mistaking them, or the name she spoke so tenderly.

* * *

Wolf rolled away. Disappointment, bitter as gall, flooded through him. Stifling a groan, he turned to look at her. In the darkness her face was no more than a pale blur, but in his mind it was clear. He knew every detail of it, the straight little nose, the determined mouth and those dark lashes that now fanned out over her ivory cheek.

‘Oh, Grace.’ Wolf dropped a kiss lightly on her sleeping head. ‘That puts you out of my reach more surely than an ocean. I cannot compete with a dead man.’

Chapter Eleven

G
race awoke with a delicious sense of wellbeing, but as full wakefulness returned she realised she was lying on the ground, warm enough in her thick cloak, but very much alone. It had all been a dream, then, lying in Wolf’s arms, feeling safe and secure and with the promise of delights to come, once they were both rested. She struggled to sit up, rubbing her eyes. It was early, the first grey fingers of dawn were creeping through the trees but everything was still and quiet. Not even the birds were singing yet.

She looked around and saw Wolf standing by the horses, strapping his cloak to the saddle. Somewhere in her foolish, naïve imagination she had expected to wake and find him lying beside her, that he would roll over and make love to her here in this forest glade. What a romantic notion for such a practical person!

A sigh escaped her and Wolf turned. The closed look in his face sent the rest of her happy thoughts crumbling to dust.

‘It is time we were moving.’

‘Of course.’ Grace scrambled to her feet and shook her cloak to shed the twigs and dead leaves that clung to the wool. The man was flying for his life. He had no time for dalliance, least of all with a woman who meant nothing to him. She should be grateful.

‘Shall I pack up your cloak?’

‘No.’ She threw it back around her shoulders. The excitement of the adventure had gone, she felt exposed and rather foolish in her boy’s clothes. ‘I am cold.’

‘The ride will soon warm you up.’

Silently Grace climbed into the saddle. It would take more than exercise to remove the ice in her heart.

* * *

Three hours hard riding brought them to the outskirts of Arrandale. They cut into the woods that bounded the park, where there was less likelihood of being seen than if they followed the road.

‘You should go straight to the Hall,’ Grace suggested. ‘I will leave the horse at the stile and you can send someone to collect him.

‘No, I will escort you.’

* * *

Wolf did not look at her. He did not want to see the pain in those lustrous eyes. Last night they had been so close, so companionable and he had almost succumbed to the temptation to make her his. Thank heaven he had moved away when he did. She still loved her precious curate, and although he might have made her forget the fellow for a time, in the days ahead she would measure Wolf against her saint and find him wanting.

When they reached the gates they were closed but unchained, suggesting Sophia had arrived. The village street was deserted, those who worked in the fields were already departed and the rest had not yet breakfasted. He turned to Grace.

‘Give me the reins. I’ll take the horse back with me.’

‘Yes, of course.’ She made no move to dismount.

‘Go carefully. Grace.’

‘I have only to cross the street. That back lane will take me directly to the vicarage garden.’

Wolf nodded. He had used it many times as a boy to steal fruit from the parson’s orchard. What would Duncombe say, if he knew how close Wolf had come to stealing his daughter?

She sighed. ‘So this is goodbye.’

‘Yes.’ He could not meet her eyes. ‘We shall not meet again.’

‘Will you not shake hands with me?’

After the long ride the animals stood quietly side by side. How could he refuse, after all she had done for him, risking her life, her reputation, to help him.

He took her hand, forced himself to look into her face.

Ah, Grace, if things had been different. If I had not led such a rakehell life. If we had met before you fell in love with your saintly curate. We might have stood a chance.

The words screamed in his head, but he could not say them.

‘Goodbye, Grace Duncombe.’

She clung to his fingers. ‘Wolf, last night—’

He shook his head at her. ‘One day, my dear, you will thank me for my forbearance.’

She looked as if she might argue so he tore his hand free and caught her reins.

‘Go now. Every moment you delay endangers us both.’

She recoiled from his harsh tone and he bit back the impulse to apologise. Without another word she jumped down and scrambled over the stile. Wolf watched her disappear into the lane, then he turned and headed for the Hall. If this was what it felt like, doing the right thing, he wanted none of it. Clearly he was not made to be a saint.

* * *

Wolf noticed the changes as soon as he approached the Hall. Two men were scything the lawn and they stopped to watch as he rode down the drive. When he reached the stables they were bustling with activity. An elegant travelling chaise was visible through the open doors of the carriage house and two young men were removing the weeds from between the cobbles in the yard. They were being watched closely by an older man who looked up as Wolf clattered in. He ran across to take the spare horse from him.

‘Morning, Mr Arrandale. Welcome home.’

‘Who the devil are you and what’s going on here?’ demanded Wolf.

The man touched his cap.

‘I’m Collins, sir, groom to Mr Richard. He sent me here to meet you and to look after the stables. And not a moment too soon, if you’ll excuse my saying so, sir, since Lady Hune is determined to set everything here by the ears.’

‘So my great-aunt’s installed herself at the house, has she?’

A wide grin split the groom’s craggy features.

‘Aye, sir, the dowager marchioness has brought her whole retinue with her, and then some. All trusted folk and loyal,’ he added quickly. ‘You needn’t fear for your safety, sir.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Wolf slid to the ground. ‘I’d better go in and see what she has been doing with my property!’

‘Just one more thing, Mr Arrandale.’ The groom lowered his voice. ‘Mr Richard ordered a fast horse to be kept saddled and ready in the stables at all times.’

Suddenly Wolf was twenty-four again, angry, confused and thrust out of the house by a father who was convinced he was guilty. If he had stood his ground ten years ago, this sorry mess might never have happened. And Richard was clearly prepared for the worst.

‘Much obliged to him,’ he said shortly and strode off towards the house.

He had not gone far before he was intercepted by Robert Jones.

‘Her ladyship said she had orders from Mr Richard, there was nothing I could do,’ he said, eager to explain himself. ‘She just swept in and took over, sir, brought all her own people with her, too. Hundreds of ’em.’

‘I doubt if anyone could withstand Lady Hune in full flow,’ muttered Wolf.

‘But I don’t mind saying it’s good to have the house staffed again, sir. ’Tis quite a responsibility, looking after a place this size. Why, I couldn’t even offer Sir Charles any refreshment when he called.’

‘Sir Charles Urmston was here?’ Wolf stopped. ‘When was this?’

Jones rubbed his nose. ‘Oh, weeks back, sir. Just after you left. He came to the house, saying as how he was in the area and wanted to see where he had spent so many happy days.’

‘You let him into the house?’

‘I didn’t see how I could stop him, his having been such a favourite of the old master and cousin to Mrs Wolfgang.’

‘But you went with him?’

‘Oh, yes, sir. He wandered through the reception rooms, sighing and lamenting.’

‘And you were with him the whole time?’ When the servant hesitated Wolf put his hand on his shoulder. ‘Answer me honestly, man. It is important that I know the truth.’

‘Well, sir, when we gets to the hall he looked at the spot where your poor wife died and he covers his face, upset-like. Then he asks for something to drink. I told him there was nothing fit and he says as how he would take a glass of water, if I would fetch it.’

‘And where was he when you got back?’

‘Sir?’

‘Was he still in the hall when you brought the water?’

‘No, sir, he was on the landing. Said he had been musing on how his poor cousin could’ve fallen from that very spot.’ Jones shook his head, clearly disapproving. ‘Didn’t seem proper, sir, to be going over something that happened so long ago.’

‘He was standing near the balustrade, was he? Could he have been in any of the bedchambers?’

‘He might have done, sir, but I wasn’t gone that long.’ Jones screwed up his face in an effort to remember. ‘And he was wiping his hands on his handkerchief, sir, as if they was dirty.’

‘And what did he do then?’

‘Well, he comes down and I gives him the water, which he took no more than a sip of before going off.’

‘He didn’t ask to see over the rest of the house?’

‘Now you comes to mention it, Mr Wolfgang, he did say as how he thought his horse was going lame and could he stay the night, but I told him that wouldn’t be possible, sir, not at all. I offered him the use of the old gig we keeps in the stables to take him to the Horse Shoe, if he didn’t want to walk, but he said his horse would get him that far. I didn’t see him again after that, sir. Nor anyone else, until her ladyship arrived. And now I’m not sure what I should be doing.’

Wolf squeezed his shoulder.

‘Keep your head down, Robert. This will all be over soon.’

‘And then will you be living here again, sir?’

The footman’s hopeful look caused Wolf a pang of remorse.

‘No, Robert, I won’t. But I shall make better provision for you all before I go this time, you have my word on it.’

* * *

The house was even busier than the stables, with sounds of activity echoing around the hall, where Croft, his great-aunt’s butler, was directing an army of servants. When he saw Wolf, the butler waved away his minions and bowed.

‘Her ladyship is in the drawing room, sir. She is expecting you.’ He added quietly, as he opened the door, ‘May I say that we are all delighted to see you here safe, sir.’

Wolf nodded. He had no doubt of Croft’s loyalty and he knew his formidable great-aunt would have brought no one to Arrandale who could not be trusted to keep his presence a secret.

* * *

Sophia, Dowager Marchioness of Hune, came away from the window as he entered, her bearing as upright and regal as he remembered, despite the use of a cane, but when he was close enough to press a salute upon her hand he could see how much she had aged, her face more lined and the blue of her eyes a little less intense, although the look she fixed upon him had lost none of its power to intimidate.

‘I am delighted to see you here, ma’am,’ he said politely.

‘So you should be.’ The claw-like fingers clung to him. ‘Help me to a chair. Once Croft has brought in the refreshments we can talk.’

‘You have lost no time in making yourself at home,’ he observed.

‘You could not expect me to stay in this barrack of a house without a few comforts.’

She fell silent when the butler came and served them both with a glass of wine. Wolf sipped it appreciatively.

‘Did you bring this with you, ma’am? It is superior to anything I recall from these cellars.’

‘Your father was always a nip-farthing when it came to good wine.’

‘So you brought your own. And all your servants, too, by the look of it.’

‘Not only
my
servants.’ She looked up to make sure they were alone again. ‘I had some idea what would be required to put the place in some sort of order, so I asked the family for assistance.’

‘The family?’

‘Your brother and his wife and Lord and Lady Davenport. The staff were all carefully chosen for their loyalty and discretion, I assure you.’

Wolf frowned.

‘I do not doubt it, ma’am, but I would rather you had not dragged Alex and his new wife into this.’

‘They are Arrandales and will wish to be involved. Do not worry, your secrets are safe enough, my boy.’

‘I do not doubt it, but it comes hard to trust so many people, when I have been accustomed to fending for myself.’ He looked up, one brow raised. ‘The two fellows scything the lawns as I rode in. They looked useful fellows to have with one in a fight.’

He saw the familiar glint in those faded eyes. ‘Your brother sent them, lest Sir Charles Urmston should turn up, although there has been no sign of him as yet.’ She paused. ‘They might also buy you a little extra time to make your escape, should it be necessary.’

‘You have not discovered the Sawston diamonds, then?’

‘No. I have had the house turned out of doors, but my people have found nothing.’

‘Did Richard tell you to pay special attention to the dresser’s room?’

‘He and Phyllida are going over it. I presume they have found nothing or they would have come down by now.’

‘What?’ Wolfgang exploded. ‘They are here?’

‘They arrived last evening, although they have sent little James off to Brookthorn with his nurse.’

‘Thank heaven they have shown some sense!’ declared Wolf. ‘I do not want the family interfering in my affairs any further.’

‘I think you must accustom yourself to it, Wolfgang. These days Arrandales stick together. You should think yourself fortunate that Ellen Tatham, Phyllida’s stepdaughter, is touring the Lakes with her old teacher at present or she would have been here, too, and she would set us all by the ears.’

‘Even you, Sophia?’

Lady Hune allowed herself a faint smile. ‘Even me. However, I think you should prepare yourself to see the Davenports here tomorrow. And they
are
bringing the children with them.’

Wolf clapped a hand over his mouth, as if to hold back even more explosions, not so much of wrath as consternation.

‘Send them an express,’ he said at last. ‘They should not come.’

‘Do you not wish to meet your daughter?’

‘Yes, very much, but I want to meet her as a free man. I do not want her to see me arrested and dragged off in chains.’

‘Do you think that is likely?’

He nodded. ‘If I delay here too long. Urmston will make sure Arrandale is searched, once the trail to Dover goes cold. If the necklace is not found within a day or two, then I must give up my plans to see little Florence and leave the country.’

‘If that is the case then naturally you must go, but you may be sure we shall continue the search.’

‘Thank you, ma’am, I—’

He broke off as the door opened and a cheerful, musical voice floated across the room.