His tone was dry. “Would tomorrow be too soon for you?”
She laughed. “Tomorrow would be lovely if it could be arranged. We could go ahead of the others, and Ellie and your mother could join us in a week or two.”
“No, that’s not convenient. I have business in Chalford. But you need not wait for me.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “I wouldn’t dream of going without you. I mean, what kind of honeymoon is that? And … and what business do you have in Chalford?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. An express arrived from Perry early this morning while you were sleeping.”
“An express?” she said as though she’d never heard of such a thing.
“A letter that was delivered by special messenger.”
His eyes were speculative and she felt a peculiar sensation stealing over her. He was as wary of her as she was of him. “It must have been important,” she said carefully.
“It was. It’s about Rodney Stone. Jess, you were right. He never left Chalford.”
“He’s dead,” she said tonelessly.
“No one knows that for sure, but the authorities are beginning to suspect foul play. It seems that Mr. Stone was last seen by a lock keeper, on the towpath, making for the old priory. No one saw him after that, not at the Rose and Crown and not at the hostelry.”
“A lock keeper?” she said.
“The man who regulates the old weir. Mr. Frome is lock keeper at Saint Martha’s Cross. He remembers Stone because he saw him in the taproom of the Rose and
Crown earlier that evening. He thought Stone was just going for a walk along the towpath.”
Saint Martha’s Cross
. Where had she heard that before? She had an instant and vivid impression of a stone cross in front of a church and a children’s game that wasn’t a game at all. Those who were caught really were being led off to have their heads chopped off.
Saint Martha’s Cross
. Until that moment, she’d never heard of it. But Rodney Stone had been seen by the lock keeper at Saint Martha’s Cross. And in her dream, they’d played their terrifying game around a stone cross that had cast a ghastly distorted shadow.
One down and two to go. One down and two to go
.
Who is next, Sister Martha? Sister Martha?
They looked at him and saw exactly what he wanted them to see. No one had ever suspected him of murder. He could do it again
.
Who drew the short straw, Ellie? Who? Who?
It was Lucas. It was Lucas. Lucas
.
“No!”
She came to herself to find that Lucas was pouring sherry down her throat. She shoved his hand away and reached for her teacup. Uncaring of the scalding hot liquid, she greedily gulped down the tea. Quick tears of pain stung her eyes.
Lucas was frowning. “I’m sorry I shocked you,” he said.
“When did he disappear?”
“Right after he came to see you at Bella’s.”
“When I was convalescing from my fall?”
“Yes.”
“And Saint Martha’s Cross? Where is it? I mean, is there a cross?”
“Not now. But the locals still remember where it used to be. It was in the old priory grounds. Constable Clay and his men combed the ruins but there’s no sign of Stone.”
She fought down her nausea. Priory. Church. A sacred building—that’s all she’d known in her dream. Lucas was speaking again, and she tried to still her thoughts to listen to him.
“After I received Perry’s letter, I decided to delve a little deeper into Mr. Stone’s affairs. I visited his bank. It turns out that Stone came into some money before he went to Chalford. Contrary to what all his friends believe, he has no debts. He paid off his creditors before leaving town. I went to see his aunt again, and she has no more idea than I of where the money came from, unless he won it at cards.”
He shook his head. “Jess, you suspected that Stone was going to abduct you.”
“It seemed to me at the time that he meant to abduct me. But you said that I panicked.”
“You mentioned that someone may have paid him to do it.”
“Did I? I can’t remember.”
“And you also suspected that foul play might be involved in his disappearance when everyone else was convinced he was hiding from his creditors. How could you have known all this?”
“I didn’t know. It was only when Perry discovered that none of Stone’s friends knew what had happened to him that I … that we both began to suspect the worst.”
“But why should you care? Why did you go to his rooms, Jess? What were you looking for?”
“I wasn’t looking for anything. Perry and I were worried about him, that’s all.”
“And you found nothing?”
“No. If you don’t believe me, ask Perry.”
“I believe you, Jess. I always believe you when you give me a straight answer.”
He rose and went to stand in front of the fire. With his back to her, he said, “In his letter to me, Perry says that
there’s a rumor going around that there was a woman with Stone the night before Bella’s ball.”
“Woman? What woman?”
“I don’t know. No one seems to know her name. Maybe she doesn’t exist.”
He turned suddenly and she came under his hard, searching stare. Panic edged into her mind and the room began to swim.
“Jess,” he said gently, “you’re not keeping anything from me, are you? You have told me all you know? Anything less could be dangerous. You do realize that, don’t you? If Stone was murdered, God only knows what may happen next. That’s why I don’t want you anywhere near Chalford.”
“I don’t know anything,” she said, and to her horror, her voice caught on a sob.
He came to stand beside her and his face was the picture of concern. It was the face of a good man. How could she think what she was thinking?
Yet, everything rang so true, everything was falling into place. And things she’d never thought about were taking on a new significance. He’d married her, surprising everyone. He’d literally forced her into marriage. What better way to keep an eye on a woman who was asking too many dangerous questions?
And a wife could not testify against her own husband.
When he reached for her, she drew back violently. “Jess,” he said, “sweetheart,” and he swept her up in his arms. “I shouldn’t have told you about Stone. It’s all been too much for you.”
She could feel the steady beat of his heart against her breast and the bunching of powerful masculine muscles as he adjusted her in his arms. “Don’t go to Chalford,” she said, and she could hear the naked fear in her voice. “Stay here with me.”
“I have to go. Don’t worry, love, I know how to take care of myself.”
“Then let me come with you.”
“No.”
“But why do you have to go?”
“Perry is there. And I’d like to clear up this business about Mr. Stone.”
“But—”
He kissed her swiftly, silencing her. “It’s all arranged. Adrian and I set off early tomorrow. I won’t be gone for long.”
He carried her into her chamber and put her to bed. After extinguishing the candles, he joined her there. “You’re cold,” he said. “Here, let me warm you.”
He made love to her, not as they’d made love before, but a gentle blending of their bodies that had more to do with comforting than pleasure. She felt safe in his arms, and that seemed wrong to her. But she couldn’t help what she was feeling. Right or wrong, she loved him with her whole heart.
When she felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, she untangled herself from his arms and slipped from the bed. After donning her robe, she entered the dressing room. Guided only by her sense of touch, she found what she was looking for in the bottom drawer of Lucas’s dresser. It was a pistol, primed and ready for use, in the event of thieves breaking into the house.
Swiftly rising, she returned to her own chamber and hid the gun in her writing table. Then she went to one of the long windows and looked out. Buckingham House, with its cheery lights, winked at her, signaling that all was right with the world.
She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a panicked sob. She had to be strong. She couldn’t allow herself to be overcome by emotion. Oh, if only she had a particle of the resolution she’d possessed when she’d set off from the convent to return to Hawkshill! Everything had seemed
simpler then. Her one thought had been to stop a murderer from murdering again.
She’d come full circle, but it was all so different. She hadn’t know then that she would fall in love with her Voice.
“Voice,” she whispered into the silence, “I won’t let you do this. Turn back before it’s too late.”
She felt a flicker of awareness, but no more than that, no suspicion, no recognition.
Voice?
she repeated silently, more insistently, testing him, testing herself. But there was no need to test herself, not now. Her Voice existed just as surely as she did.
She opened her mind to him.
Voice? Voice?
Lucas stirred and she crossed to him. “Jess? Jess? I love you.”
At his softly murmured words, something inside her quietly shattered. Clever, clever Lucas. There was no weapon he would not use to quell her suspicions. But he was too late. They weren’t suspicions now. They were convictions. She could forgive him her father, but not Rodney Stone, and not his next victim.
I will stop you, Lucas. I will. I will
.
Her own words mocked her.
“Jess, come back to bed.”
She crawled in beside him, and his arms immediately wrapped around her. As he caressed her body, she lay perfectly still, willing herself not to respond to him, not this time.
He raised his head. “Jess, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she murmured, and she put her arms around his shoulders.
“Then love me. Love me, Jess.”
Her resistance died away. It was impossible to deny her own heart. “Lucas,” she whispered helplessly, hopelessly, when he entered her. “Lucas.” Her body did not share the reservations of her mind. It welcomed him, answered him
when he demanded more from her. At the crisis, she gave a cry of despair and the tears welled over.
He was infinitely gentle as their passion ebbed. There was a smile in his voice. “I know, I know. It was awesome.”
She lay there quietly, waiting for him to fall asleep, thinking, thinking, thinking.
In the morning, when she awakened, Lucas was gone. She didn’t wait to don her robe, but ran out of her chamber in only her nightgown. She met a footman on the stairs. To her repeated and insistent inquiries, he faltered out that the master had left for Chalford early that morning with his cousin, Mr. Adrian Wilde.
An hour later, Jessica and her maid were in the carriage and on their way to Chalford.
CHAPTER
24
S
he stopped for the night at the Black Boar, just a few miles before Chalford. Though no one knew her in these parts, just to be on the safe side, she wore a veil and kept it in place until she and her maid were shown to their room. If it had been possible she wouldn’t have brought a maid with her. She wanted to be alone. She didn’t have the energy to make small talk. She was doing things in secret and stealth. A maid only complicated matters. But a maid was also an indispensable accessory for a lady who was traveling on the road. Not to have brought Sadie would have invited speculation at every inn they stopped at on the way.
Her bed was comfortable, but she could not get to sleep. She tried to pray, but no words came. She listened, but there was nothing there but an incomprehensible void. Wide-eyed, she lay staring at the ceiling, her mind frozen, impenetrable to thought or emotion.
In the morning, she roused herself enough to put on a performance for her maid. She told Sadie she had some
business in the area that would take her an hour or two to complete. When she returned, they would go on to the Lodge together.
She debated whether to take Lucas’s pistol with her and decided that where she was going, it wasn’t necessary. Besides, it was so unwieldy, she didn’t know how she could conceal it. And when she went to the Lodge to confront Lucas, she would not go alone.
A hired coach took her into Chalford and set her down only a mile from her destination. Perhaps she was being too cautious, but she didn’t want anyone to see where she was going or what she was doing. This was something she had to do by herself. After paying off the driver, she walked toward St. Luke’s church, but as soon as the coach drove off and she knew that no one was watching her, she turned off the main road and made for the towpath that followed the river.
As small things registered in her mind, she felt herself begin to thaw, but she put a guard on her thoughts. She could tolerate only so much, and she was close to the breaking point. Whatever she could see and touch were the only things she allowed herself to think about.
There was a light mist rising, a heat vapor that drifted off the river and veiled either shore. It wasn’t a dense mist, and she could still see ripples cutting the surface of the water. There were no barges on the river, plying their trade to Henley and London. No punts or boats. The sun was obscured by clouds, and a light drizzle had begun to fall. She passed a neat little cottage beside a weir. This must be where the lock keeper had seen Rodney Stone on his last walk along the towpath.
Not long after, she came to a fork in the path, and she left the river and began to climb, but it was a gentle incline, a slow, steady sweep that shouldn’t have made her breath catch. At the summit, she paused to take in the vista. On her left, looking out over the valley, was Haig House. From her vantage point, she could also see the
pavilion that she’d been making for the night Rodney Stone had pursued her. She tried to let that thought slip by unexamined, but the barb was too deep and she felt it twist. If Rodney Stone had been following Lucas’s orders that night, then Lucas …
She shied away from the thought before she could complete it. None of that mattered now. She had to stop Lucas. That took precedence over everything. All else—her lost love, lost hopes, broken dreams—could be wept over later.
A light froth of mist floated in front of her eyes, then rapidly dissipated. Suddenly, a bird burst into song and she glanced around fearfully. A thrush on an ancient rowan soared upward, and she raised her eyes to follow its flight. She felt the rain on her face, heard the wind soughing in the topmost branches of the trees, and her own breath shuddered through her in a broken little sob.