Leo trudged up the steps, wanting to be anywhere but at this blasted castle in England.
Merda,
he’d rather be in the jungle than here right now. What the hell would he do with Ella? She cared. Damn it all, why couldn’t he stop thinking about that? Because deep down the thought thrilled him as much as it terrified him.
He raked back his long locks as he stepped into the hall.
“Leo!” And there she was, sweeping toward him, her face flushed and her eyes bright.
He fought the urge to go back out the door and leave the damn estate for good…He fought the urge to sweep her up into his arms and show her what it could truly be like between them.
“Leo,” she said, more softly this time. She took his hands, then darted a glance at the doors to the study. “They’re here.”
He jerked his hands away, her touch too intimate. “Who?”
The soft murmur of voices finally penetrated his mind. Male voices.
“The men, from the list. I spoke with your grandfather, and he was able to gather them here, in the house, together, for a supposed discussion on crops. Now you can go in and identify the man.”
Leo looked at the doors, and he swore his heart stilled. In that room could be the answers he searched for, the end of his destiny.
Ella clutched his hand once more. “Leo, please listen to me. That man could be in there. The man who murdered your parents. Be careful. Don’t do anything rash. Let the constable handle—”
He pulled his hand away and started toward the doors.
“Leo!” she called out but he ignored her plea.
He threw the doors wide, and the voices stopped. The small group of men turned to face him, their smiles fading.
“Well, well, look who has made an entrance, as usual,” Henry mumbled and took a sip of his drink.
“Leo,” his grandfather called out from near the windows, pasting a smile upon his weathered face. “Come in, meet our neighbors.”
Leo’s gaze jumped from man to man, and disappointment made him want to slam his fist into the wall. Not one resembled the man who had betrayed them, who had been at that ball only yesterday.
Merda
, perhaps he’d imagined him. Perhaps he was insane.
Numbly, he took the drink his grandfather pushed into his hand. The liquid burned down his throat, the pain welcome for it made him forget for a blessed second about the pain of disappointment. Conversation started again, a low buzz that made his head ache. Anxiety clawed its way into his throat, sucking the breath from his lungs. He had to get out…he had to leave. The glass slipped from his hand and fell to the floor and shattered.
“Leo?” he heard his grandfather call out.
Leo turned to leave. He couldn’t stop…had to keep going. To make it to the doors…to make it to fresh air.
The butler appeared in the door, blocking his exit. “A Mr. Convey,” he announced to the room and then stepped aside.
A man stood in the open doors as if dropped there by God. Leo stopped in his tracks, his heart thumping in his ears. Suddenly, he was twelve again, back in the jungle, the shadows looming against the tent walls.
Go, Leo, now, hurry
, his mother cried out over and over again in his mind.
“Leo?” his grandfather’s voice was muffled, as if from far away. He blinked the old man into focus. “Leo, did you see him?”
The man named Convey had moved toward Henry, and they were laughing as they discussed some subject. In his crazed mind, he imagined them laughing over his parents’ death.
“Leo? Which one is he?”
Leo didn’t answer, but started toward Henry.
Red hot anger rushed through his body even as his stomach flipped and churned. Seeing him coming their way, perhaps noticing his facial expression, Henry’s eyes widened, and he stepped back. Convey slowly turned, his curious gaze flickering over Leo. When Leo didn’t stop, the man’s eyes widened. But it was too late. Leo’s fist lashed out, slamming into his hard face. Pain radiated up his arm, and Convey yelled, falling to the floor. Leo bent down and slammed his fist into the man’s face once more.
Images flashed through Leo’s mind…a shadowed arm holding a dagger…his mother’s pale, lifeless face. He was barely aware of the roar of shock that waved through the room. Blood splattered across his clothing, reminding him of the blood pooled around his parents’ bodies.
Fingers dug into his arms, pulling at him…pulling him away from his prey. He struggled to break free, a growl of denial escaping his lips. Hands clawed at him; still he tried to break free, tried to get to the man who had destroyed his life.
“Leo!” he heard his name spoken in a sweet voice from far away. For a moment, he thought the angels called to him. Suddenly, a woman stood in his line of vision, her large blue eyes pleading with him, for what? Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear the words. She reached out, and he stiffened. Her warm hands rested on the sides of his face, soft, comforting.
“Leo, stop, please,” she said softly.
Ella
, he realized with a start, his rational mind working once more. He blinked, his gaze traveling the room. His grandfather cowered against the settee, his face pale, his mouth hanging open. Leo jerked away from the men who held him and spun around. All five of them stood there with wide, shocked eyes.
“It’s him!” he cried out, pointing to the man who hid in the corner of the room. “He killed my family.”
“Leo,” Henry hissed, stepping closer. His cousin’s usually neat appearance was mussed from the shuffle. “Mr. Convey has lived in this area his entire life. He’s never traveled abroad. I know him quite well.”
“It was him!” Leo roared. His entire body trembled, and he had to do everything in his power not to rush after the man once more.
“What the hell is going on?” Convey demanded, using his shirt sleeve to swipe at his bloody nose.
Leo’s hands curled. “You killed my family.”
The man shook his head, his brows drawn together. “I’ve never killed anyone.”
“Liar!” Leo roared. “You were in India that day—you killed my family!”
“I’ve never been out of England,” the man cried, slinking back. “Ask my family, ask anyone.”
“You lie.”
“Leo, this is ridiculous,” Henry snapped.
Leo spun around to face his cousin. “I can prove it. He had a large birthmark across his back.”
“Bloody insane,” the man gasped. “You expect me to undress, and in front of a lady?”
Ella’s face turned red, and she scurried from the room. Leo’s hands reached out as he resisted the urge to hold her there with him. Why was it that her presence eased his troubled mind?
“Leo,” Henry snapped, stepping closer to him. “You are embarrassing a fine member of our community and once again our family name.”
“He will take off his shirt.”
The other men in the room grumbled their objections.
“Fine,” Convey snapped. He tossed his jacket to the settee. “Utterly ridiculous.” His fingers moved down the buttons of his shirt.
Leo held his breath as the man slipped the material from his bulky arms. Slowly, Convey turned.
Nothing. Not one mark marred the man’s back.
Leo shook his head, panic clutching at his chest. “No. It’s him, I swear it.”
The group fell silent. Leo’s attention jumped around the room, looking for someone…anyone to believe him. Henry sneered, a look of disgust upon his face. His grandfather’s reaction was worse. He looked disappointed.
“No,” Leo repeated. “I swear it’s trickery.” He started toward the man, but Henry stepped in front of him.
“Enough.”
Leo pushed him out of the way, and his cousin stumbled to the side.
But before he could reach Convey, his grandfather was there. “Enough, Leo.”
Leo’s jaw clenched. He didn’t believe him. No one did. Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air in the room. He stumbled back from the group, their eyes watching him, judging him insane. Gasping for air, he spun around and raced into the hall.
“Leo?” Ella jumped up from her position on the stairs. “What happened?”
He couldn’t stand to see the disappointment on her face. Without a word, he rushed out the front door.
Blood. She’d seen blood on his hands. Blimey, not again. Ella raced out the door, her frantic gaze searching the drive for Leo. She had to find him, before he did something else he’d regret. But where would he go? She closed her eyes and focused on the man. A warm burst of anxiety and anger hit her, making her weave on her feet.
Without pause, she picked up her skirts and rushed down the steps. Dashing around the corner of the house, she saw him. Her knees went weak with relief. Glowing golden from the afternoon sun, he sat on a bench in the rose garden. His elbows rested on his knees, his face in his hands, like an angel mourning the sin of humans.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she thought he whispered.
Ella knelt beside him, his despair washing over her in a thunderous wave. For her own comfort and for his, she placed her hand on his arm. “Leo, what happened?”
He shook his head, but didn’t speak. Ella took her lower lip between her teeth. Helpless to comfort him, she let her hand fall away.
“Leo,” Lord Roberts called out.
Ella stumbled to her feet, wishing she’d had more time to speak with Leo.
Slightly breathless, Lord Roberts stopped near them. “Mr. Convey has agreed to forgive this indiscretion.”
Leo jumped to his feet, his eyes flashing with fury. “He killed them.”
With the help of his cane, Lord Roberts shuffled closer. “Leo, you saw his back—there was no mark. What more do you want? It was years ago. Don’t you think…perhaps you could be wrong?”
“It was him.”
Lord Roberts sighed. “You practically pummeled the man to death. Think about it, Leo. What if he’s not the man you seek? It was years ago!”
A sickening thread of doubt wound its way through Ella. Blimey, what if Convey wasn’t the man? What if Leo was wrong? Until now, she’d never even contemplated the idea. She shook her head, as if that could sweep the disloyal thoughts from her mind. No, she trusted Leo. He needed her.
Lord Roberts reached out to his grandson. “Leo, this has to stop. If you want to run this estate, you need—”
Leo jerked away. “
Merda
, is that all you think about? Your family name or this bloody estate? My parents were murdered. Your very own son!”
Lord Roberts’s nostrils flared and his hands clenched at his sides. “I told him not to go, that no good would come from traipsing around the jungle.”
Ella’s gaze flew to the man. How could he say such a thing? Leo needed support, not condemnation.
Lord Roberts shook his head, his frail body sagging. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s over, Leo. They are gone, but you are still here and able to take your father’s place.”
Leo released a harsh laugh and spread his arms wide. “You think I want to take his place? You think I’ll stay here? You think I care about any of this?”
Dread twisted Ella’s belly, and she sank onto a vacant bench. She knew what would come, the harsh words that would be said and she knew things would never be the same between grandfather and grandson.
Lord Roberts paled slightly. “Yes, I would think so. This is your heritage.”
“This isn’t mine. My life ended in that jungle. My life ended when I was forced to kill men to ensure my own survival.”
Ella gasped, unable to prevent the sound from escaping her lips. Dear Lord, she could feel the honesty in his statement. Leo
had
killed.
He turned on her and sneered. “Yes, kill. I’ve killed, Ella. How do you think I escaped my days as a slave? Do you still think I’m honorable? Do you still think I should stay here and do my duty?”
“The past doesn’t matter,” Lord Roberts tried again.
His attention swiveled back to his grandfather. “Maybe not to you, but the past is all I have. I care nothing for this place. It means nothing to me, and no one here means anything. But hear me now,
my lord,
my parents’ death is
not
over.” He stalked away from them, disappearing into the trees, and Ella could only watch him go, her heart broken and shattered at her feet. She meant nothing to him.
Lord Roberts collapsed onto the bench, sitting next to Ella.
“He didn’t mean it,” Ella rushed out, even as she fought her own tears. Where was the thoughtful Leo she’d come to know? The man who could ease her worries with just a touch? Had he ever really existed?
Lord Roberts gave her a soft smile. “I fear he did mean what he said, Ella.”
“No, I’ll go talk to him. I’ll—”
“You’ve done enough. You’ve tried. We’ve all tried. Take the day off, my dear. Do what you will. If you stay the rest of your six months…If Leo stays, I fear you’ll have a difficult time ahead of you.”
If Leo stays
. An angry part of her insisted she not care. But she did care…damn it all. She cared much, much more than she should.
“My lord, can I help you inside?”
“No, go now. Visit your friend in the cottage. I need to be alone.”
Ella hesitated only a moment. Finally, she nodded and moved woodenly down the path, eager to see Fran and, at the same time, feeling guilty about leaving. At the gate that led to the road, she turned and studied Lord Roberts. Huddled on the bench, he looked like a shell of the man she’d seen that first day here, with his merry, but fierce eyes. She sighed and started down the lane. He’d been so sure about Leo then. Now, he looked utterly defeated.
Was it over? Everything Lord Roberts had worked hard for? Everything Leo deserved? Would he give it up and move back to Italy? Would he…leave her? Helplessness washed over her in a wave that sent burning tears to her eyes. Blindly, she made her way down the road.
Free of the house and its confusing occupants, she had the sudden desire to run. She hiked up her skirts and bolted. Her heart raced, the air in her lungs burned, and still she continued to run. Birds darted past her, hares jumped from the brush, startled by her flight. She didn’t care; nothing mattered.
Even after all the hurtful remarks, a small part of her still wanted to rush into the woods and find Leo. She’d felt the pain. Under her own hurt, she’d felt his pain like a knife tearing out her gut. He’d lashed out at them in frustration. She knew that, but it didn’t make his words less painful. Tears dripped from her lashes only to be brushed back by the wind. She rounded a corner, and Fran’s small cottage came into view, a haven amongst sorrow.
Her sobs increased as she pushed through the front gate and rushed up to the door. She bent over and gasped for air, the sting in her side almost unbearable. Unable to stand, she slumped onto the front stoop and rested her head on her knees. If only she could stay here with Fran forever and never go back, never see that blasted castle again.
Leo’s face flashed to mind.
No one here means anything to me
.
Her heart clenched. Did he mean it? Did she mean nothing to him? No, she couldn’t believe he meant the words. She wiped her face with her sleeve and stood. Fran was here. She’d know what to do.
Sniffling, Ella knocked. No one answered. She pushed the door wide and peeked into a small sitting room. “Fran?”
Ella stepped into the cottage, taking in every detail from the fine crack in the ceiling above her to the vase of daisies on the small mahogany table. This would be home. So quaint and beautiful, so much larger than she expected. Yet…it didn’t feel like home. Why was that? Surely it would as soon as she moved in. Only a few more months. How would she bear even a day without Leo? How would she bear it when he left?
She moved numbly through a large kitchen and tried to imagine herself baking biscuits, but the image wouldn’t come. Out the windows, she could see Fran resting in a chair. Stifling a sob, Ella pushed open the back door and raced across the lawn. At the sound of her approach, Fran turned.
“Ella!” Fran jumped from her chair and wrapped her thin arms around Ella’s waist.
“Fran, how are you?” Ella asked.
Fran pulled back, and there were tears in her large brown eyes. “So wonderful, especially now.”
She took Ella’s hand and led her toward the chairs. “Ella, did you see the inside? Could you ever imagine we would own a home like this? Lady Buckley would be furious with envy. And look!” She pulled her toward a back gate. From the stone wall she could see the ocean, brilliant blue-green waves sparkling below.
“It’s beautiful,” Ella replied.
“And all because of you, Ella. It’s exactly what you said we’d ’ave. Exactly.”
Ella smiled, but she couldn’t prevent the tears from pooling in her eyes. From the far corner of the garden, a soft growl erupted. Before Fran could see her tears, Ella swept toward Charlie’s cage.
“Is he doing well?” she asked, reaching inside to pet the animal.
Fran rested her hand on Ella’s shoulder. “Oh, Ella, what is it?”
Ella could merely shake her head as Fran led her to a chair. She collapsed into the seat and took the handkerchief Fran pushed into her hands.
“You…you must think I’m mad,” Ella sniffled.
Fran shook her head. “It’s ’im, isn’t it?”
Ella wiped her face. “Him?”
“Yes. The man you’re teaching. Blimey, Ella when you wrote and told me you were teaching a man, well, I about fainted dead away, I did.” Fran poured a cup of tea. “And now…well, I’ve ’eard the rumors, of course.”
Ella blew her nose. “Rumors?”
“That he’s more animal than man.” She held up her hand when Ella leaned forward, her lips parting in outrage. “Now, calm down. When I got your letters, I knew the rumors weren’t true. And when I met ’im—”
Ella stiffened. “What? You met him? When? Where?”
“He stopped by this morn.”
“This morning?” she whispered. “But why?”
“Apparently, to check on me and Charlie. But, to be ’onest, I think it was more to learn about you.”
She straightened with interest. “Really?”
Fran nodded.
She didn’t know how she felt about that, but blast it all, if warmth didn’t seem to seep into her body and wrap around her heart.
“So, are you going to tell me what ’appened?” Fran asked.
“Oh, Fran, everything is such a mess.” She stood and paced the area between their chairs. “Everyone thinks he’s insane, and he doesn’t even want to stay here. He only came to England to find his parents’ murderers.”
“He seemed sane enough to me.”
“He is. It’s just that…well, if he doesn’t conform they’ll never accept him. He’s obsessed with this murder that happened so long ago.”
“Seems anyone would be, if they’d seen their parents killed, don’t you think?”
Ella collapsed into her chair and twisted her handkerchief. “Of course.”
“And, well, as far as conforming goes…I just can’t imagine that man conforming to anyone or anything, and you know, I kind of like ’im that way.”
Ella smiled and nodded. “Me too.”
“Ella,” Fran said, leaning forward. “I’ve known you twelve years now. You’ve always been loyal and an excellent judge of character. You know the real ’im. I’m thinking you’re all he’s got. Are you still a loyal friend, Ella?”
Ella felt Fran’s words like a slap. She tilted her chin. “Of course I am.”
“Well then.” Fran grinned. “Seems to me you should get back to that castle.”
Steeling her courage, Ella slipped into the house through the kitchen. The cook merely glanced at her, then went back to rolling out dough. No welcoming smiles or greetings. Everything was so different here compared to Lady Buckley’s where, even under Buckley’s intense attention, she’d befriended every servant and cook. Would she ever get used to the aloofness? She supposed if Leo didn’t return, she wouldn’t have to.
Ella swallowed hard and scurried up the servants’ steps. She’d made a promise to Lord Roberts that she would help Leo any way she could. Once that was accomplished, she could leave. She paused outside her bedroom door. If this place was so cold and unfeeling, why did the thought of leaving make her heart weep?
A thump resounded from inside her room. With a frown, Ella pushed the door wide.
“Hello?” She stepped inside, her gaze sweeping the area.
Skirts, bodices, and stockings lay scattered across the floor. Her bedcovers were heaped in a pile in the corner of the room.
Confused, Ella froze. “What—”
Movement in the far corner caught her attention. She swiveled her head. A man stood near the fireplace, a black mask covering his face, a brown book in his hands.
Fear sliced through Ella, holding her immobile. She knew in that moment she’d die if she didn’t run. The man dropped the book with a thud that shook her from her frozen state. With a growl, he bolted toward her. Ella spun around and burst toward the door.
If she could just reach the hall, a servant might hear her scream. His bulky arm wrapped around her waist, and he slammed her back against his chest. She parted her lips to scream. His hand slapped over her mouth, trapping the cry. Fear mixed with panic, making her body tremble with uselessness.
Think, Ella!
But thinking remained impossible, and so she merely reacted. Ella kicked and wiggled in his grasp. He jerked her into the room and slammed the door shut with his booted foot.
No! No, she could think, she could get out of this. The castle was full of people; surely someone would hear her scream, if only she could free her mouth.
The man squeezed her waist until she could draw little air, let alone speak a word. “You’ll be quiet, if you know what’s good for you. Now tell me where the map is.”
Ella shook her head, her eyes wide. What could he possibly want? Her lungs burned, and blackness taunted the corners of her eyes. She’d pass out soon, and then…then it would be over.
He jerked her hard against him. “Don’t lie.” He removed his hand, giving her the opportunity she needed, yet she could barely get enough breath. She sucked in a great gulp of air.
“I swear,” she breathed out deeply. “I swear I don’t know anything about a map.”
He spun her around to face him, his stale breath fanning across her face. “I have ways of making people talk.”
“Ella?” A soft knock sounded on her door. Berta’s voice. Oh God, Berta would be hurt if she came inside.
“Hell.” He pushed her away, and Ella fell hard to the floor. Before she could call out for help, he rushed to the window and jumped over the ledge. Ella stumbled to the windows. Already, he was halfway down the trellis. The door creaked open, and Ella spun around to see Henry’s wife standing there.