Chapter 9
“Leo.”
Leo clenched his jaw and continued down the path, his wound stinging with each step.
“Leo, wait. Where are you going?” Ella rushed to his side, her breath coming out in small pants, a black shawl clasped tightly around her shoulders. He didn’t dare look at her directly for fear she’d draw him into her web of innocence and he’d forget, once again, what he’d come here to accomplish.
“Please, I had to hear from the maid that you were found yesterday, and they wouldn’t let me see you. I need to know you’re well.”
He wanted to ask her why, why she needed to know, but remained silent, fearful of what her response might be. And even more fearful of how he’d react. The morning refreshed his mind and soul. Alone and outside, he was able to think, or at least he had been until she called out his name. Merda, he’d almost stopped to wait for her. He was becoming too used to her presence, almost eager to see her, and that thought made him harden his resolve.
“Go back,” he demanded, not breaking his stride. He left the gravel path, and his boots sank into damp grass, dew soaking the fine leather.
“I won’t,” Ella said, her chin tilted into a look of defiance.
He sighed and shook his head. Stubborn chit. He couldn’t do this…be with her…worry about yet another being who could be taken from him in a moment.
“Did you find anything last eve?”
She was nosey as well. “No.”
“Where is your friend?”
“Akshay is busy.”
“Well then, I’ll help.”
He stopped, irritated. She looked at him with those large, sky-blue eyes, and he almost lost his train of thought, almost agreed to her ridiculous notion. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and quirked a brow. “And how do you plan on assisting?”
She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “Well, two people searching are better than one, are they not?”
He started walking again, intent on forgetting this woman and focusing on his plans. “You’ll slow me down.”
She ran to keep up with him. “You haven’t lost me yet.”
“Unfortunately,” he muttered.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Leo looked heavenward and prayed for patience. He didn’t desire her help, damn it all. Why did everyone feel the need to stick their noses in his business? Besides, how did he know she wasn’t telling his grandfather what he did? Perhaps if he ignored her she’d tire of her game and go along her merry way.
Sparrows darted across the path, spooked by their appearance. Dull little birds that blended into their dull environment. Yet, there was something about England that pulled him. Mornings no longer represented relief that he’d survived another night. No, a new day here meant endless possibilities.
He actually enjoyed staying up into the early hours to watch the animals wake, the farmers trudge through their fields and upturn the rich earth, the milkmaids set out with their flushed faces and cheerful grins. The weather was never so humid…so hot, you thought you’d suffocate.
The many ruins fascinated him as well, and he found he wanted to know more. Merda, he felt a sense of heritage for this land, almost as if he belonged. Unfortunately, no one else in his family seemed to think the same way. Excluding his grandfather, the rest of his relatives had made it clear from the beginning he was not welcome. He turned to look at the estate, a massive monument erected in honor of his family.
“It’s beautiful. You should feel proud.” Ella’s soft voice broke into his thoughts.
Her comment brought on a bitter wash of annoyance. He should feel proud, yet didn’t feel as if he had the right, not when the majority of his family wished he’d never returned.
“Why?” he snapped. “I had nothing to do with the building of the estate.”
His mind demanded he hurt her, as he’d been hurt. But then he looked into her guileless eyes, her innocent face flushed with the crisp morning air, and all anger seeped from his body. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and took a dancing curl between his fingers. Silky smooth. He imagined those curls brushing over his skin. She stiffened at his touch, her lips parting in surprise. Did she fear he’d kiss her again? He did. Leo swallowed hard and dropped his hand to his side.
“Fine, you may go along, but stay quiet.”
She grinned. He turned, ignoring the strange clenching of his heart at the sight of her smile, and started down the trail leading to the woods.
“What are we looking for?” she whispered, scurrying after him.
“Why are you whispering?”
“I don’t know. It seems appropriate when hunting for clues to the person who almost killed us.”
At times, she said the most ridiculous things, yet he found himself wanting to hear more. “I’ll know when I see it.”
The woods were cool, dark, and silent as if awaiting their arrival. He paused, taking in the essence of the area, letting the place speak to him. A snap rang out from behind. Leo spun around.
Ella flushed and gave him a shy smile. “Sorry, stepped on a branch.”
Leo sighed loud enough for her to hear his exasperation, then moved to the fallen tree where he’d fought their attacker. As much as he tried to concentrate, his attention kept returning to her. Ella moved around the site, staring into the trees as if expecting answers from the gods.
“I highly doubt anything will fall from the heavens,” Leo drawled out.
She put her hands on her hips and frowned. “Well, I haven’t a clue what to look for. It’s not as if at Lady Buckley’s we went tracking for sport.” She waved her hand through the air. “Run along, little Clara, let’s see how long it takes us to track you.”
He fought his smile. When she was like this, her true self, she didn’t give a damn about his family and the title he’d inherit. Nor did she care that he’d grown up in a jungle. She treated him as she treated everyone, and he supposed he enjoyed her company. “Look for anything out of the ordinary.”
She sighed and continued shuffling along the path.
Leo forced his attention to the forest floor and crouched, studying the soft footprints that marred the earth. Large prints, definitely a man. Next to the prints was a stain of dark dirt where his blood had soaked into the ground. Nothing else. “Cazzarola.”
“Leo?”
He sighed. “What now?”
“Does this constitute out of the ordinary?”
He turned to see Ella grinning smugly with an arrow clenched in her fist.
He stood and held out his hand. With an arrogant tilt of her chin, she slapped the stick onto his palm.
“What is that?” Ella’s words broke into his thoughts.
Leo followed her gaze to the patch of blood. “Nothing.”
“’Tis not nothing.” She knelt by the stain. “It…it looks like blood! Did you injure the man?”
“Really, your concern for the person who tried to kill us is endearing.”
She stood, her face pale. “Leo, what happened?”
Leo frowned and raked his hand through his hair. “No, I did not kill him.”
Ella’s mouth fell open. “Then, it’s yours?”
It was more than embarrassing admitting to the woman he’d failed. She rushed around him, her hands all over his body. With each touch, each graze of her fingers, heat shot to his gut. Leo brushed her hands away and started down the trail, eager to get away from the emotions she stirred. He’d noted the look in her eyes, the shock, the worry. A tiny part, a part he didn’t want to identify, warmed with the prospect that she cared. The feeling left him unsettled. He certainly wasn’t here to become attached to anyone.
“Leo!” Ella clutched his upper arm, her grasp surprisingly strong. “Please, let me see. I hadn’t realized it was that bad. They said it was nothing to worry over.”
“It isn’t anything to worry over; now let’s go.”
“No! We will not go. Show me the wound.”
br /> “I will not…”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowed, and he knew she would continue to pester him. He jerked the shirt from his waistband and pulled up the material.
Ella gasped, her fingers going to his side. Her touch was like the rays of the sun, warm and comforting. Gently, she pulled the bandage down and prodded the red skin, testing the stitches.
“Who dressed it for you?”
He watched her, taking note of the way her lips puckered in distress, the way her hands fluttered like nervous butterflies. She was an innocent in this world, so what the hell was she doing here? What would happen to her when he left? Most likely she’d find another governess position with a family who wouldn’t appreciate her beauty, her intelligence. Perhaps she’d find a farmer or villager to marry. The thought made him nauseous.
“Leo?” her questioning gaze went to him.
“Akshay. He has experience treating wounds. I assure you it’s done properly.”
She looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling in a way that only a woman’s could. When was the last time anyone had truly cared?
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“Like the very devil.” He dropped his shirt back into place and started down the trail once more, his mind warring with his body. How badly he wanted to take her into his arms, to feel her hands over every inch of his flesh, to let her heal him with her touch. But his mind, cazzarola, his mind would not allow him to take advantage of an innocent.
“Where are you going?” Ella asked, rushing after him. He didn’t respond. “Leo! I found the arrow, I deserve to know.”
“None of your concern. Feel free to go home.”
“Very amusing. You shouldn’t be about with your injury, and we should let the others know about the arrow. Perhaps call the constable?”
“No, do not say a word to anyone, about the arrow or the injury.”
“But—”
“No one.”
“This person, they should be made aware of their actions.”
He finally glanced at her. “What in God’s name do you speak of?”
“The person who accidentally shot at us. He must have been terrified of what would happen to him, cutting you to get away.”
Leo laughed and shook his head. Really, she was much too naïve for her own good. “This was no accident, Ella.”
“Leo, look at the facts; there is no reason why anyone should want us dead.” Her brows drew together. “Well, Grace and I anyway.”
Leo found the path and they started toward the house. “Ella, the man stood in that spot, trained his bow on us, and let go.”
“But who…who was he aiming for?”
“Me, I suppose. I’m the only one whose death would matter.” He lifted the low branch of an elm.
Ella ducked underneath. “Your cousin?”
“Who else? Look at the style of this arrow, used for speed and deadly aim. Aimed to kill.”
Frowning, she plucked a daisy from along the path. “Perhaps…perhaps there is someone we can ask, someone who might be able to identify it.”
“My grandfather. He loves military weapons. In fact, when he was younger he had a special fondness for the bow.”
“Your grandfather? Leo,” Ella said, her voice breathless. “Could he have taught your cousin how to make them?”
“Perhaps.” Of course. Leo didn’t doubt that Henry was behind the attack.
She rested her hand on his forearm. “But your cousin was inside at the time. It doesn’t make sense.”
Her touch clouded his mind, and he shook off her hold. “That doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hired someone. Do you not find it odd that Grace said her father had demanded she stay inside?”
Ella shook her head. “Yes, but how would he know you would be out there?”
“Ella, I am always outside.”
“Oh, Leo,” she whispered as they stopped next to an old stone fence that ran along the side of the house. The tears in her blue eyes gave him pause. “Your own cousin, it can’t be.”
He couldn’t help himself. He trailed his fingers down the side of her cheek. “My cousin lied about being in India, Ella. He was there. My parents were killed by the very people they trusted. In the jungle, I saw animals turn on their own offspring. You’d be shocked to know what people will do for greed.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe your own family would want you dead, Leo. Surely there cannot be that much evil in the world.”
Leo sighed. “Ella, Lady Buckley knew your reputation would be ruined if you took this position, yet she still forced you to leave.”
Ella blushed. “Not forced.” He raised a brow, and she averted her gaze.
“My grandfather paid the woman who practically raised you. She took money over your reputation. She sold you, Ella.”
Ella sunk onto the fence, her gaze downcast. He felt like a cad of the worst kind. Merda, he should have kept his mouth shut but he’d felt the need to prove his point.
“He paid her?” she whispered.
He couldn’t lie to her; he wouldn’t. He respected her too much. Leo nodded.
A tear trembled on her lower lashes, before slipping down her cheek. Leo closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Blast his honesty.
“Still,” he said, opening his eyes and taking her hand, “Perhaps she needed the money and thought she could better your life by sending you here.”
Ella pulled a necklace out from beneath her collar and moved the pendant up and down the chain in an anxious mannerism that she’d obviously done often. Leo frowned—there was something familiar about the action.
“Lord Buckley does like to spend,” she said, drawing his attention back to her face. “Perhaps they could no longer afford to keep me? She must have known I would accept because I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”
Leo jumped over the fence, his jaw clenched. To hell with telling the truth. He’d lie to save her feelings. “Of course. Most likely that’s the reason why.”
“Leo,” she said as he rested his hands on her waist and helped her over. “Will you show your grandfather the arrow?”
They moved up the front stoop to the door. “Yes.” He had no other person to go to. But how would he take the fact that Henry, his own grandson, had plotted against them?
The door opened even before they arrived on the top step. Kips bowed.
“Where is my grandfather?”
“The portrait hall, I believe, my lord.”
He started up the stairs and could hear Ella running after him. She latched onto his arm. “Leo, do not jump to conclusions.”
“Too late.” He moved away from her and opened the tall, wooden doors.
“Leo! What about…”
He glanced back only once, taking in her pale face, then closed the doors.
Leo moved into the long, dark hall and waited a moment for his eyes to adjust. Halfway down the corridor stood his grandfather, his gaze focused on a portrait that hung above. Leo started toward the old man, dreading the confrontation more with each step.
“Your grandmother,” the old man said, without glancing at him.
Leo studied the portrait of a statuesque young woman with golden hair and amber eyes. She had a soft, mischievous smile as she leaned against a Grecian urn. “When did she die?”
“She didn’t.”
Leo was stunned into silence. In the time he’d been home, not once had the old man mentioned her. He’d assumed she was dead.
“Where…where is she?” A vague memory of a woman who smelt of roses came to mind. Sparkling amber eyes…like his father’s…like his own.
His grandfather sighed. “Leo, I won’t lie to you; she isn’t well. I placed her in an estate in Scotland where she could rest. Your cousin is there with her. Your father’s death destroyed her.”
“My cousin?” he demanded.
“Yes, you have a cousin, a woman named Beatrice. A few years younger than you, I believe.”
&n
bsp; Leo shook his head, trying to bring order to his confusing thoughts. “Henry has a sister?”
“Oh, no. Beatrice was the daughter of my youngest son, after your father and Henry’s father. He died in a riding accident. Only had time to produce one child, and unfortunately it was a female.”
Leo thought that comment odd but was too shocked to respond.
“I suppose I should write to your grandmother, tell her you’re here.”
Leo stiffened. “She doesn’t know? You never told her I lived?” Merda. That was just like his grandfather, too embarrassed to admit he was his relative.
The old man’s eyes shimmered with tears, and Leo’s anger wavered. “Leo, I’ve done so many things wrong. And I am sorry, but I’ve only been trying to protect those I love.”
Leo averted his gaze. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath, couldn’t seem to think. He certainly didn’t understand the old man’s actions, but who was he to judge? “I have something to show you.” He held out the arrow.
“It’s…it’s an arrow. Well made,” his grandfather said, taking the object. “Looks medieval.”
“Ella found it where I spotted the shooter.”
“You think it’s his?”
“Yes,” Leo replied.
His grandfather took in a deep breath and sank onto a bench. “It doesn’t give us much to identify him.”
“No, but it does tell us that he uses a bow, which is strange enough when he could have used a pistol.”
His grandfather nodded. “Noise maybe? Perhaps he thought he could sneak in this way and leave unseen.”
“Do you think he could have been a local man? Do you know of anyone who would use bows such as this?”
“An expensive wood,” his grandfather muttered, his gaze narrowed on the arrow.
“Yes.” What was the old man thinking? “And aimed at me, I assume.”
His grandfather’s attention jumped to Leo. “You? But why in the world would anyone want to harm you?”
Leo resisted the urge to sigh. Really, was everyone in England so naïve?
“Do you have enemies, Leo?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“I see,” his grandfather whispered, dropping his gaze to the parquet floor. “I’m not dense. You are thinking of Henry.”