Nicolas still wanted to see for himself where it had happened, so together the three men walked back through the falling dusk. There wasn't much to see; even the exact area where Dolly had fought for her life showed very little disturbance. After following Robert to a spot just beyond the old orchard and looking around, Nicolas was frowning. There was nothing, nothing except a pile of dung, where it was obvious a horse had been recently tethered, to give him any clue as to why and who had so brutally attacked Dolly. Nicolas sighed. It would have been bloody convenient, he admitted wryly, if the attacker had dropped a signet ring or an embroidered scarf with his initials on it. Such wasn't likely to have occurred, but he still wished there had been something....
Walking back toward the cottage, he asked, “Did Dolly see who it was? Perhaps Rose got a good look at him?”
Robert shook his head regretfully. “Neither one of them. Once we knew that miss was all right and had made her comfortable, that was the first thing I asked her. Miss said she never got even a glance at him. He attacked her from behind, and she never saw him. She just knows he was a big, strong man. Rose, now, had a better view, but she didn't see very much. She said that he wore a gentleman's hat and that it was pulled low over his face. When she first sighted him, his head was bent over Dolly, so she saw nothing but the hat. She got barely a glimpse of him when he looked up and saw her, but there was too much brush in the way for her to see him clearly. She didn't recognize him.” His voice grim, Robert added, “But she feels certain that he was a âgentleman.' She said not only was his hat like the ones you wear, but that he was also wearing a greatcoat like yours. She said that her impression was that of a man of qualityânot just some poacher or farm worker.”
Nicolas would have felt better if Rose had seen a poacher or even one of the local smugglersâit would certainly have made more sense. At least they might have been able to assign a motive for the attack. If Dolly had stumbled across someone with something to hide, it might explain what had happened. But a “gentleman” put an entirely different light on the incident....
The “gentleman” aspect of the attack nagged at him considerably and cast a great deal of doubt on his theory that the owlers might have struck at Dolly as a warning to himâuntil he remembered the “gentleman” that he himself had seen with the smugglers just last night when he had been knocked unconscious....
A grim smile crossed his face. He couldn't be certain, but he'd wager half his fortune that his attacker and Dolly's were the same man. The “gentleman” might even possibly be the mysterious “Mr. Brown” mentioned by Roxbury.
Thinking of the danger that Dolly had faced banished all other thoughts from his mind, and he was stricken with guilt. Had he not let the Rockwells' unexpected arrival deter him, Dolly would never have been harmed. It was
his
fault that she had nearly died.
Feeling angry and guilty at the same time, Nicolas entered the cottage and strode impatiently to the kitchen. His gaze went instantly to Dolly, and his spirits lifted like magic.
It was obvious that she was feeling better, although her features were still strained and pale and there was an expression in the depths of her eyes that made his heart clench painfully. The tamped-down rage within him struggled to break free. She was sitting up straighter against the pillows, and in the intervening time, she had changed into her nightgown and was modestly enveloped in the bright blue wool wrapper.
Her eyes met his, and she asked anxiously, “Did you find anything?”
Nicolas shook his dark head. Seating himself on the wooden chair near her bed, he sat down beside her once more. Taking her hand in his, he asked quietly, “Do you think you can talk about it now?”
Her mouth twisted ruefully. “There isn't much to tell. I had decided to go for a walk, and I spied the apple orchard. I walked over to it, and then ...” She hesitated, her eyes growing dark. “I don't know, it was odd, but all of the sudden I felt frightened. Something inside told me that I should get away from there immediately.”
Nick's mouth thinned. “Thank God you listened to your inner senses. If you had remained there, Rose might not have gotten to you in time. A few seconds longer with that damned ribbon around your throat and you wouldn't be sitting here telling me about it.”
Tess smiled softly at him. “I know. You're saying what I've thought a hundred times since it happened. Anyway,” she went on briskly, “I left the orchard and was some yards from the road when he attacked me.” She stopped, unable to go on, and her body trembled uncontrollably.
Dropping a kiss on her hand, Nicolas said urgently, “You don't have to tell me anymore. Answer me two questions and we can leave this painful subject: Do you have any idea why someone would want to kill you? And would you recognize your attacker?”
Tess slowly shook her head. “Have you forgotten?” she asked quietly. “I don't know who I am, and because of that I can't tell you why someone might wish me dead. And as for recognizing him ...” She gave a bitter little laugh. “I was too busy fighting for my life to see who was trying to strangle me!”
Tess wasn't telling exactly the entire truth. It
was
true that she hadn't recognized her attacker, and while she still didn't know who she was, ever since she had awakened there had been odd flashes, frustratingly brief, of what she was certain were memories of her past. She had been given a lightning glimpse of a long, portrait-hung gallery, where one portrait in particular seemed to leap out at herâa young woman with features strikingly similar to her own, and yet she knew it was not a portrait of herself. She had barely grasped what she was seeing before it was gone and her mind was as blank as ever. Several minutes later another flash had occurred; she had glimpsed a grand manor, and the same gentleman she had seen driving so recklessly down the road the morning she had left the Black Pig with Nicolas was walking down the steps. But even as she strained to remember, to put a name to those arrogantly handsome features, the memory had vanished. Just before Nick had arrived, a woman's face, a lovely face with violet eyes much like her own, had streaked through her thoughts. Tess was positive that if she could only concentrate, think hard enough, she would know the woman's name . . . and the man's....
Tess sighed, looking regretfully at Nick. Since he didn't believe that she had lost her memory in the first place, there was no use telling him about what was happening to her.
Nicolas stared at her a long time. Even in the face of a brutal attempt on her life, she was still clinging tenaciously to that ridiculous story of hers.... The uneasy suspicion that she might be telling the truth took firmer root in his mind. If she really didn't know who she was ... if there was no greedy, shadowy family in the background, waiting to reap the reward of her position in his life ... if that were true, then God help him, he had taken base advantage of her loss of memory, and he had ravished and abducted an innocent maid!
Stubbornly he pushed away that decidedly unwelcome conclusion. He was overwrought, shaken by the attack on herâso ensnared by her charms that he was willing to believe anything she said. That was itâhe was letting his fascination with her override all his common sense. Of course she knew who she was. And sooner or later her family
was
going to show up with its collective hand outstretched for his gold! But none of that answered the two questions uppermost in his mind: Who had tried to kill her, and why?
None of his thoughts showed on his face as he said bracingly, “Well, you did the most important thing, sweetheartâyou survived, and that's all that counts!”
She sent him a faint smile. “Oh, Nick,” she admitted honestly, “I was
so
frightened!”
He gathered her close to him once more and dropped soft kisses on her curly head, muttering inane words of comfort. He didn't know what he said, but they had the desired effect. A few minutes later she was sitting up in bed, looking less anxious.
Plucking nervously at the quilt, she said, “I'm going to sleep down here tonight. Jenny has said that she will bring in a mattress for herself, and Sara has said that she will leave the door to her room open. And Rose and Tom are just down the hall.” Her eyes very big, she added, “I know I have a perfectly good bed upstairs, but for tonight, at least, I think I'd feel better if I was down here.”
With an arrested expression on his face, Nicolas hesitated a moment before saying slowly, “I think that's a very good idea.” He cleared his throat and looked oddly ill at ease. “As a matter of fact, before all this happened, I was going to, um, talk to you about some, er,
guests
who might be staying here for a few days....”
“Guests?” she asked incredulously. “You're putting up your guests in the household of your mistress?”
Nicolas moved uncomfortably on his chair. He threw a harassed look at the servants, relieved that they were all on the other side of the room, busy with various tasks. Like the well-trained staff that they were, they were giving Nick and Tess a bit of privacy. In a low voice he said, “Well, they're not guests, exactly, they're simply some older maiden ladies who need temporary refuge.”
Tess stared at him. “You are,” she said finally, “the most
arrogant,
unfeeling
monster
I have ever known! You abduct me willy-nilly and give me no choice but to become your mistress, almost making a prisoner of me. I have just barely escaped with my life from a vicious attack, and you want to move me out of my own bedroom to provide refuge for some
maiden
ladies?”
Nicolas winced at the note in her voice. He didn't blame her in the leastâhe
was
being an unfeeling monster, but he didn't really have any choice. Not, he thought darkly, if he was to keep his reluctant promise to those harum-scarum Rockwell brothers. “I know it sounds improbable,” he admitted, “but I swear to you that I will explain everything more fully to you later. In the meantime ...” He flashed her a wry glance and, deciding that he had nothing to lose, asked bluntly, “Would you mind very much having your things removed from upstairs and just for a few days using the room at the rear of the house?” The expression on her face made him say hastily, “I
know
it's not the best time, and I promise they'll only be here until I can find a more suitable place for them.”
Tess could hardly believe her ears. Her throat hurt, her head was aching unbearably, she felt dizzy, her life had nearly been taken from her, and he wanted to bring
guests
into the house? He was right about one thingâit wasn't the best time. But she was too shaken at the moment to argue with him. Her voice colorless, she said, “Whatever you wish. After all, I am merely your mistress. It is
your
house to do with as you please.”
Nicolas sighed, guilt knifing through him. Damn the Rockwells! And Avery! And that blasted Tess Mandeville for being so foolishly stubborn in the first place! Taking Dolly's stiff little hand in his, he said quietly, “Sweetheart, I am the wickedest wretch alive! I shouldn't have mentioned itâespecially now.” He gave her a crooked smile. “It wasn't a very good idea in the first place. Don't worry, I'll think of somewhere else to put the ladiesâyou just concentrate on recoveringâthat's all that really matters. And of course you can sleep down here if you wish. Since I won't be able to stay the night with you for the next few days, you'll probably feel safer with Jenny and the other servants near at hand.”
Tess looked at him with exasperation. He was being far too reasonable and meek. “Oh, bring your maiden ladies here,” she said crossly, wishing she wasn't so spineless where he was concerned and that she didn't find him so appealing. He was a monster, but she seemed unable to resist himâeven when he was at his most outrageous. “I wouldn't be using my rooms for the next few days anyway,” she added dryly.
He sent her a keen look. “Are you certain? Your comfort is my first concern.” With a rueful expression on his dark, handsome face, he said, “I really don't want you upsetâdespite what you might think. I shouldn't have brought the subject up, especially now.”
“Then why did you?” Tess muttered, feeling with some justification that she was being sorely put upon.
“Stupidity? Unmitigated crassness?” he offered, a twinkle dancing in the depths of his black eyes that coaxed her to join in his debasement.
Despite her aches and pains, Tess grinned at him. “My feelings precisely!”
Staring at her, at the sweet curve of her rosy mouth, Nick was struck by the sudden unsettling knowledge that he would gladly vilify himself, act the fool, do just about anything, to keep her safe and happy. She was also, he admitted, letting him off the hook lightly. Bringing up the subject of the arrival of the Mandeville women within mere moments of her escaping near death had not been the most intelligent thing he'd ever done. The most thoughtless, certainly!
A husky note in his voice, he leaned nearer and asked, “Am I forgiven, sweetheart?”
“Yesâbut you don't deserve it!” Her tone grew serious. “Nick, I meant what I saidâbring your maiden ladies here. I won't mind.”