What had he been about to say. Educated? Noble? She’d made no attempt to change her or Sissy’s speech. Not in this particular role. Once more he’d surprised her, this time with his perception. She tried to keep the guilt from her voice and face while the lies she and Martin had concocted tripped glibly from her tongue. ‘We were brought up on a great estate, similar to your own. Our mistress was fond of my mother and allowed Sissy and me to be taught with her children. I plan to become a governess, but have as yet to find a suitable position.’
‘I like it here,’ Sissy said. ‘I found Miss Boots in the garden.’
‘Miss Boots?’ the Marquess asked with a raised eyebrow.
‘My cat,’ Sissy said. She ducked under the table and pulled out the kitten. ‘See, she has little white boots.’ She pointed to the cat’s tiny white feet and legs.
‘So she does,’ he said. He pulled out his watch, a plain silver thing. Nothing like the glittering piece she’d stolen. ‘You will forgive me,’ he said. ‘I have another engagement this afternoon.’
And here he was listening to a child’s artless chatter. Eleanor tried not to let the chagrin show on her face. ‘Please, do not let us keep you. Thank you for allowing me to pay my debt in some small measure.’
He shook his head. ‘The pleasure is mine, I assure you.’
And she believed him. Despite their apparently different stations, he showed not a smidgen of condescension. Why could she not have met him in her old life?
Oh, Lord, what was she thinking? This man had ruined her life. But somehow she no longer felt any hatred. After all, he’d saved them from a fiery fate. Her change of heart had absolutely nothing to do with all those other hot sensations. Or his kisses.
He shrugged himself into his jacket and picked up the hat and cane he had dropped on his way in. ‘I will certainly tell Mrs Briddle that Boxted village boasts one of the finest bakers in all of Sussex. I am sure you will hear from her very soon. Good day, Miss Brown, Miss Sissy.’ He bowed and, with a touch of the head of his cane to his forehead, departed.
Eleanor, with Sissy at her side, watched him stroll down the path from the doorway. He paused briefly on the wormy plank across the stream, looking down into the water for a moment, before mounting his horse.
‘Eleanor, that’s it,’ Sissy said. ‘You can bake cakes for Beauworth Court and we will be rich again.’
The hope in Sissy’s voice brought Eleanor down to earth with a painful jolt. If she didn’t find a way out of this morass soon, things were going to get a great deal worse. ‘He’s a dangerous man.’
‘I liked him,’ Sissy said. ‘He has nice brown eyes.’
‘You only like brown eyes because you have them, too.’
Sissy laughed. ‘Well, he likes you. He looked like he wanted to eat you instead of the cakes.’
Eleanor put a hand to her lips as she recalled the way she had melted at the brush of his mouth. The man was a practised seducer. How many other young women had he brought to ruin?
Not to mention that if he hadn’t called in the mortgage, they would not be in such desperate straits. Perhaps Martin’s ransom idea had merit after all.
Chapter Three
Arriving back at the stables, Garrick found Johnson in the barn mending tack. ‘Where’s Dan? I want him to come with me on a small errand.’
‘I sent him to the kitchen for summat to eat. Got hollow legs, that lad ’as. Needs feeding up.’
Garrick nodded. ‘Saddle the quietest thing we’ve got for him, would you? I’ll look after Bess.’
They worked in the side-by-side stalls in silence for a few minutes.
‘Bright that lad ’e is,’ Johnson said to the jingle of a bit.
Garrick knew he meant Dan. He grunted agreement as he lifted his saddle on to the mare.
‘Good with the horses,’ Johnson continued. ‘You don’t have to tell him a thing more than once. ’Ad some rough treatment somewhere, I reckon.’
No point in keeping it a secret. ‘Apprenticed to a bad master. I convinced him to let him go.’
‘With your fists, I hear, my lord. Served the bastard right.’
A sick feeling roiled through Garrick’s gut. When he’d caught the bully laying a stick across the boy’s back, he’d seen red. The blood red of terrible rage. If Harry hadn’t separated them, the man might have cocked up his toes.
When it was over, he’d paid handsomely, both for Dan and for the damage he’d wrought, yet his gut still churned when he recalled his desire to spill blood. After years without incident, he’d lost control, let the inner beast slip off its chain. He’d been a fool to think he could beat the Le Clere curse. He wasn’t fit for civilised society.
If it wasn’t for his lost signet ring, he’d have left for Lisbon today.
‘Dan should not have said anything,’ Garrick muttered.
‘I winkled it out of him, my lord. I couldn’t understand why he flinched every time I raised me arm. Won’t do him any good around your uncle.’
Garrick patted Bess’s neck. ‘Keep the boy busy and he’ll do well enough. I’m surprised you don’t have more help.’
Johnson shrugged. ‘Mr Le Clere don’t like to spend a shilling when a groat will do.’
At that moment, Dan entered the stable whistling. Garrick leaned out of the stall. ‘Give Mr Johnson a hand, lad. You are riding out with me.’
Dan’s angelic face lit up. ‘Yes, my lord.’
From his side of the stable wall, Garrick listened to Johnson giving instructions. He’d been right to bring the lad here to Beauworth. He’d learn a useful trade as well as grow strong away from the foul London air. Today, he’d explain his plan for the boy’s future.
He finished saddling Bess and led her out into the sunshine. Dan followed a moment later, the old nag Johnson had found for him chewing on its bit.
‘Ready, boy?’ he asked.
‘Aye, my lord.’
They mounted and rode out of the stable yard towards the place where they’d been held up the previous night. If luck was with him, he’d find some trace of his attacker. Attackers, he amended. Damn it. He should have expected an accomplice. Her husband, perhaps? Or was she his doxy? A repulsive thought. Just thinking about the man with his hands on the saucy wench made him go cold.
What the hell was the matter with him? To be attracted to two women in one week seemed overly debauched even for him. Two very different females, too. One sweet, innocent, barely aware of her feminine appeal. The other, coarse and brash, a lure to the brute every civilised man held at bay.
What a base cur he was, to look forward to meeting the lady highwayman again.
Leaving the lane, they entered the woods. Ancient oaks and elms rose above their heads, the cool air smelling of leaf mould. A breeze stirred the branches and gold-dappled shadows shifted on the track. Here and there the damp soil revealed the passage of two horses travelling fast, one large and one smaller.
When they emerged into open country again, Garrick lost the tracks. Forced to dismount, he cast around.
Dan slid warily from his horse a short distance off. ‘There are hoof prints in the dried mud over here, my lord, leading that way.’
Garrick inspected the prints. They were the same as those he’d seen in the woods. ‘Well done, Dan. Let’s see where they lead.’
Walking