The constable made a sympathetic grunt.
Nate picked up his glass and drank again as if the moment was too much for him to bear, and he needed the fortitude. “I’d known Allen was acting oddly, but hell, I’d never expected him to go completely mad. Drink, opium… I’m not sure what the reasoning.”
“I, umm…” The constable cleared his throat. “Heard the lad was utterly without clothing.”
“Aye, nude as the day he was born.” Of course he’d heard because the entire town knew by now. There was nothing they loved more than a scandal and a good bit of gossip. But Allen’s nudity would only support his claim that the man had gone insane. “As I said, he’d gone mad.”
“Obviously.” The constable sighed and drank deeply. For a moment they both lapsed into thoughtful silence. “He’d been getting into an awful lot of trouble lately. But I’d never expected this insanity.”
There was a soft knock, and then the door opened and Mrs. Turner swept inside. She went about setting the tea upon the side table, but when she lifted the tea kettle to pour, Nate shook his head. She curtsied and started toward the door. Now, if only he could get rid of the constable as easily.
The constable reached for a biscuit. “Tell me about his death.”
Mrs. Turner froze at the door, her panicked gaze going to Nate. She was worried, and he didn’t blame her. Allen had taken their nicely settled secret and almost ruined everything.
“When he attacked, I had no choice.” Nate gently touched his side. “I managed to grasp the pistol in my waistband. Allen fought me for it. The weapon went off.” Nate reached up to his head wound, purposefully bringing attention to his injuries. “Wouldn’t listen to reason. I only meant to frighten him away.”
“His father is quite upset, but doesn’t seem to be surprised. I’m only sorry the entire town is involved.” He downed the rest of his drink. Nate’s shoulders relaxed. “Am sorry to bother you. There will be no charges of course.”
“Of course.”
Just as he’d expected…the constable had asked a few questions and would leave. He’d done his duty, would do nothing more than the basics. Mrs. Turner gave him a discreet nod and disappeared into the hall.
“But don’t worry yourself. Tis no problem at all.” Nate stood, but the constable merely remained seated, content, apparently to rest by the fire, dipping biscuits into brandy.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” Nate asked, leaning casually against the edge of his desk.
The older man glanced up, as if surprised to see him there, as if he’d dozed off. Probably had. “Oh, just one more thing. I’ll have to speak with Mrs. Church as well.”
Nate forced himself to smile even as he mentally cursed. “Of course.”
****
“Mrs. Church.”
Beth stared out the window where she’d been watching the woods, studying the shadows, attempting to find answers in the trees. The very place where a man, or had it been a wolf, had almost killed her. Nathan hadn’t really replied when she’d asked.
She’d told herself that she’d had to pull that trigger; she’d had no choice. But deep down, the guilt was almost unbearable. Especially at night when she tried to sleep but found her dreams dark and tumultuous. And so she’d go to the window and watch the woods to make sure he wasn’t there…make sure he wasn’t going to come after her. And she knew it wasn’t rational, yet she couldn’t stop herself from searching those shadows for something otherworldly.
Someone tugged at her skirts. Startled, she turned. “Yes?”
Oliver stood there frowning up at her. He looked so much like a cross little man that any other time she would have smiled. “I said that John put a frog in your desk drawer.”
“Oliver!” John reprimanded, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling from behind the small desk where he sat.
Beth sighed and moved to her own work space, pulling open the drawer on the right side. There it was, atop her drawings, a large and green frog staring up at her with panic written across its bloated face. She grimaced. Its body was tense, as if preparing to make a mad leap toward freedom.
“Ughhh,” she groaned. “Oliver, please take care of our visitor.”
He scooped up the amphibian and walked toward the door.
Thomas giggled, Charlie grinned, while John glared at his brother’s back.
Since arriving over a month ago, she’d been called names, found numerous slimy things hidden in the nooks and crannies of her desk, and been kicked in the shins twice. Now though, she barely cared for two reasons. One, Oliver was suddenly on her side. Perhaps it was because of their shared experience with the wolf, or because of the secret he’d told her about wanting his father’s love and attention. She wasn’t sure how, why, but she’d certainly accept the gift.
But there was another reason the bloated frog hadn’t bothered her. Nathan’s kiss kept invading her thoughts even weeks later. It was a blight that she couldn’t ignore. A mistake that wouldn’t go away. Although nightmares of that killing in the woods woke her, it was Nathan’s touch that kept her tossing and turning. Why? Why must she consistently fall for the charming rake? Especially after knowing very well what the charming rake turned into once captured…a slithering snake.
She released a trembling breath. Her body felt afire merely thinking about Lord Brimley, or Nate, as she called him in the dark hours of the night. Two weeks did not diminish the memory of that kiss. She rested her fingertips to her lips. Even now she swore she could still taste him.
Nathan William Chambers, Lord Brimley.
Perhaps as a debutante she might have heard about him, perhaps even met him if she hadn’t fallen for her husband during the very first ball she’d attended. Of course her parents had been only too eager to see her married, wild and plain heathen that she was. They’d thought she’d have to settle for an untitled lawyer or doctor. But no, she’d landed a husband almost as handsome as Lord Brimley. Almost.
Now she wondered what she had missed by falling for her husband so early. Beth sank onto the chair behind her desk, her thoughts a jumble of memories. Perhaps she would have met someone kind at her second ball. Someone who would have loved and cherished her. Someone who would have given her children. She wouldn’t have had to flee this dream man, she wouldn’t have ended up here, and she wouldn’t have shot a man—wolf—in the woods. She would have lived a perfectly acceptable, a perfectly sweet, perfectly uneventful life.
But she hadn’t met that sweet, caring man. Instead she’d met her husband. A man who had thrilled and charmed her from the moment they’d met. And Beth had confused her own attraction toward her husband for affection. Had confused his charming smiles for true love. How stupid she’d been.
And now here she was falling again. She would not sell her soul for a man who would bed her, then toss her aside when he’d had his fun. She needed this position for at least six months, until the search died down. And for those months she would behave, she would keep to herself and she most assuredly would not fall for Lord Brimley. If she ignored his advances, he’d find another to seduce.
“Mrs. Church, John kicked me,” Thomas called out.
Beth sighed. “Boys, please…”
There was a soft knock right before the door opened. Jenny peeked inside, her face a nervous mask of youth and inexperience. She was as skittish around the boys as a mouse around a cat. Beth didn’t blame the poor maid. “Lord Brimley is asking for you, miss.”
Anticipation fought with anxiety. For a moment Beth thought about saying no. Perhaps she could get away with telling him she was busy teaching his boys. Bloody, bloody hell! How was she supposed to avoid him when he demanded she appear at his beck and call? “But…I…”
“Constable is here,” she whispered.
Slowly, Beth stood. The icy chill that raced down her spine had nothing to do with seeing Nate again. She’d known it would happen, hadn’t she? It was only natural that the constable would arrive after what had taken place i
n those woods. But what if he was here for an entirely different reason? What if he was here because of what had happened to her husband? “Thank you. Stay with the boys, will you?”
“But…”
Beth ignored the woman and managed to somehow make it into the hall. She would answer him honestly. She would tell him the truth…or at least most of it. The problem was…she wasn’t exactly sure which truth she should tell. She moved down the stairs. Her pulse flared, leaping every step closer.
She paused on the main floor, staring down the long, dark hall that led to Lord Brimley’s study. It was as if she could hear his heart beat…calling…calling to her, calming her frayed nerves. For a brief moment she closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. She would appear calm, collected, innocent.
Beth continued down the hall. Even before she knocked on the door Nate called out to her. “Yes, Mrs. Church, come in.”
He always seemed to know when she was near. Not only when she stood outside his door, but when they came upon each other in the halls. He appeared to see her, hear her, before she even noticed him. Was he incredibly perceptive, or was it something more?
Pushing the thought aside, she opened the door and stepped into the study. Beth found him immediately. Nate reclined in a chair near the fireplace, a glass in hand, looking the elegant lord at ease. She was acutely aware of how relieved she was that he was well. The color was back in his face, his eyes bright and keen. He didn’t look injured or broken. Even the room was clean, she noticed, not a bottle nor dirty clothing. She’d been so focused on the man that it took a moment for her to realize the constable sat across from him.
“Good day.” She curtsied as the constable stood.
He was a round bully of a man whose cheeks were flushed with merriment and drink. He looked all happiness as he bowed slightly, the sort of man who’d dealt with little crime in his small town. There was no accusatory sparkle in his gaze, no wariness on his face. If only the constable in her town had been as friendly, perhaps she could have explained, not that it would have mattered.
“Mrs. Church, I presume?” he boomed, in a voice that startled her.
“Yes, sir.”
Nate stood as well, his lean body dressed in the finest of clothing, a dark jacket that stretched across broad shoulders, trousers that hugged his muscled thighs. He looked impeccable. He looked like a god. “The constable would like a recounting of what happened the other night.”
“Oh, I see.” She didn’t wring her hands together. She didn’t simper and cry. She stood straight and looked the man directly in the eyes. “Oliver snuck out while I was helping with the food. Desperate, I ran after the boy and found him in the woods.”
“Terrifying,” the man said, shaking his head in sympathy, and she could tell he believed her completely. There was no suspicion in his response.
“Yes, it was.” If he felt sorry for her, she would use it to her advantage. She sighed, looking at the fireplace as if deep in thought. “It was then that we heard something…a terrifying, feral growl. I thought…I thought it was the wolf. But it was Allen.” She crossed her arms, hugging herself and shivering. She didn’t need to pretend in that moment. “Fortunately Lord Brimley appeared in time.”
“Bloody mess,” the constable sighed, reaching into his pocket and handing her a handkerchief.
Apparently he expected her to weep. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes even though they were as dry as his. She didn’t miss the look Lord Brimley gave her, brow quirked, amusement in his gaze. This constable might be easily fooled, but not the lord of the manor. Well, really, what did he expect?
“Terrifying,” she whimpered. “Allen nearly killed him.”
“No more.” The constable reached out, patting her shoulder. “I’ll need no more.” The man turned toward Nate. “I believe that is enough. I shall speak with Allen’s family and let them know. I don’t think they’ll be surprised. As I said, the man had been acting oddly for months. Apparently insanity runs on the mother’s side.”
Beth resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, it was always the mother’s side.
“Terrible,” Nate said, shaking his head and escorting the constable to the door.
“Yes, unfortunate mess, but feel no guilt, my lord.” He stepped into the hall. “You were merely protecting yourself and your family.”
“Thank you, sir. I do believe cook has a stew on the fire, if you’re hungry.”
The man perked up. “Indeed?” He pressed a hand to his round belly. “I did miss my midday meal. Well then, productive day, productive.”
He sauntered off, disappearing down the hall and Nate closed the door. She parted her lips to speak but he held up his hand. Beth realized that he was waiting for the man’s footsteps to fade. He would leave nothing to chance. Had they truly gotten away with the killing? Why wasn’t she as relieved as she should have been?
Finally, after a few moments, he glanced at her. “Well done, Mrs. Church. You make a formidable liar.”
She flinched, a guilty flush sweeping up her neck and into her cheeks. “It wasn’t a lie…well, not most of it.”
He tilted his head to the side, studying her. “You look upset. Dare I believe I make you nervous?”
He was teasing her. She scoffed. “Hardly,” she lied. “I killed a man.”
“In self-defense.”
She turned her back to him and moved to the fire, needing the warmth. Her body felt so cold. “Is there a difference?”
“Yes.” She knew he was coming toward her, although she could hear no footfalls. It was a sensation, a whisper that swept over her. A knowing. “Allen would have killed me, he would have killed you, and Oliver. You had no choice. He would not have stopped.”
“I wish it made it easier.”
“Someday it will be,” he said softly, almost gently.
She slid him a glance. “You’ve killed?”
His face was expressionless. “I’ve been to war.”
Of course. How many men had died at his hands, she wondered, but didn’t dare ask. She didn’t want Allen’s death to be easy for her. No, that would mean what she had done was nothing to fret over. She deserved to suffer, didn’t she? Blast, but she was so bloody confused.
How badly she wanted to leave, to return to the children’s chambers and hide away behind her books, her artwork, and teaching, to forget what she had done. Yet, she realized quite suddenly that her body was trembling, and doubted she could make it to the door, let alone up the stairs. Instead, she stumbled to the chair the constable had vacated and sank into the soft leather.
Nate settled in the chair across from her and poured her a cup of tea. “Take it.”
She took the cup, using the warm porcelain to calm her chilled, shaking hands. “Will he leave it alone now?”
“Yes.” Nate leaned back and watched her sip her tea. “He’s not the most aggressive of men. Hard work of any kind alludes him.”
“Thank God.” The warm tea spread down her throat and across her chest, offering some comfort. Could things ever truly go back to normal? Not when she was near Nate. Nothing could ever be normal. Normal was boring. Normal held no hope. But with Nate…she felt things she never thought she would feel again. And nothing, not one sensation, was normal. “My lord, if you’ll excuse me, I should return to my quarters.”
She set her tea cup upon the tray and stood. Nate was to be avoided at all cost. She certainly couldn’t avoid him while sipping tea in his library.
“Before you flee, Mrs. Church, there is something else.”
She paused, leery. He looked far too mysterious for her liking. “Yes, my lord?”
He drummed his fingers slowly against the arm of his chair. “It’s Nate. We are alone, after all.”
She bit her tongue, refusing to reply. He might be Nate in her mind, in her dreams, but she would never speak the name aloud. It was much, much too intimate.
He stood, downed the rest of his brandy and smiled at her, a heart-stopping smile t
hat made her breath catch. “Pack your things.”
Beth stiffened. Dear god, he was going to fire her after all. “My lord, if this is about Oliver, I promise—”
He shook his head. “No, not at all. I merely feel the need to get away. Tell the maids to pack for the boys as well. We leave in two days.” He swept by her and headed toward the door. “I find we are in need of a holiday.”
Beth stood there mutely. He opened the door, then stepped to the side, watching her with mild amusement, as if this was all a game to him. Her intention had been to get away from the man, not to be stuck in a carriage with him. A holiday…with Lord Brimley…alone.
This was a bad, terrible, wretched idea.
Chapter 10
“I’m bored,” John complained, tossing a small ball into the air until it hit the ceiling of the carriage, producing a thud that had her head pounding.
Beth gritted her teeth, and forced herself to smile. “I understand, but we’ll be there soon.”
Wherever there was located, exactly, she wasn’t sure. Nate had shoved them all into a carriage without telling them. As governess, she couldn’t exactly demand answers. She could only hope it was the seaside, perhaps some place in the country. She dared not believe they were headed to the city, where anyone might recognize her.
Oliver shifted, nudging John off balance so he dropped the ball. “I’m bored too.”
The ball bounced on the floor, and into Charlie’s lap. He made quick work of snatching up the toy and holding it in the air for ransom.
“Give it back!” John cried out.
Beth rubbed her temples, trying to ease what was quickly becoming a thumping headache. “Boys, please.”
They’d been traveling for an entire day and were as bored as she. A month ago she never would have thought she could survive an hour trapped in a carriage with the lads, let alone a day. Perhaps she had grown used to them…like one grew used to mold on stone walls. Or maybe they had changed, and were more accepting of her. She could dream, at least.