‘Aw, ’tedn’t that cold, madam, and besides I don’t see why you should worry, if he’s such a villain.’
‘He may be a villain but I am not,’ declared Eloise angrily. ‘Now take his shoulders again and help me get him into that shelter!’
It was a struggle but eventually they managed to get their unwieldy burden into the shepherd’s hut. Perkins spotted an oil lamp hanging from the roof and pulled out his tinder box to light it. Eloise, very warm after her exertions, threw off her cloak before picking up a piece of twine to bind the major’s hands behind his back. Not a moment too soon, for even as she finished tying the knot Jack groaned.
‘Quickly, now, help me to sit him up.’
‘If I was you I’d leave him on the floor, where ’e belongs,’ opined Perkins, but she overruled him: she did not like to think of any creature bound and helpless at her feet.
They propped him up against a pile of sacks in one corner and Eloise stood back, watching as the major slowly raised his head.
‘Where am I?’
‘There is no point in struggling,’ she said, trying to sound fierce. ‘You are my prisoner.’
‘The devil I am!’
‘You keep a civil tongue when speakin’ to my lady,’ growled the groom.
‘That is enough, Perkins.’ Eloise turned back to Jack. ‘Where is the journal?’
‘What journal?’
‘The diary. Where is it?’
‘I have no idea what you mean.’
Her eyes narrowed.
‘What were you doing on the heath?’
Jack looked up at her from under his black brows. The feeble lamplight threw dark shadows across his face and she could not see his eyes.
‘I was following you. What were you doing?’
‘That is nothing to do with you. I—’ She stopped, her eyes widening. She turned to her groom, saying urgently, ‘The package! Run back to the tree, quickly, and collect it.’
Perkins hesitated.
‘I don’t like to leave you alone with ’im, m’lady.’
‘His hands are bound, he cannot hurt me. But leave me the pistol, if you like, only go and collect that package!’
As the groom let himself out of the hut she weighed the pistol in her hand.
‘If that is mine I would advise you to keep your fingers away from the trigger, it is very light.’ She glanced up to find Jack watching her. ‘I would guess you had never used one of those.’
She shrugged.
‘It should not be difficult, at this range.’
‘Not at all, if you think you can kill a man.’
She glared at him.
‘I can and will, if you give me cause!’
A derisive smile curved his mouth and she looked away.
‘Who tied my hands?’
‘I did.’
‘And how did I get in here?’
‘We carried you.’
‘We?’
‘Yes.’ She flushed, saying angrily, ‘It is you who should be answering questions, not I.’
‘Then you had best ask me something.’
She was silent, and after a moment he said wearily, ‘I wish you would sit down. Since I cannot stand it is very impolite of you to put me at such a disadvantage.’
Eloise was suspicious, but she could read nothing from his countenance, save a certain irritation. She glanced around. There was a small stool in one corner and she pulled it forwards, dusted it off and sat down. He smiled.
‘Thank you. Now, what did you want to ask me?’
‘Why were you following me?’
He leaned back, wincing a little as his head touched the sacking piled behind him.
‘I saw you coming out of Coutts’s this morning. When you denied it so fiercely at the Renwicks’ party I became suspicious.’
‘Oh? And just what did you suspect?’
‘I don’t know: that you had run out of money, perhaps.’
‘I am not so irresponsible!’ she flashed, annoyed.
He ignored her interruption.
‘I followed you through Hampstead,’ he continued, watching her carefully. ‘It occurred to me that perhaps someone has a hold on you. This journal that you talked of: are you trying to buy it back?’
‘That is none of your business!’
‘I have a cracked skull that says it is my business,’ he retorted. ‘By the bye, is my head bleeding?’
She looked up, alarmed.
‘I don’t know—does it hurt you very much?’
‘Like the devil.’ He winced. ‘Perhaps you would take a look at it.’
Eloise slid off the stool to kneel beside him. Absently she brushed his hair out of his eyes before gently pulling his head towards her, eyes anxiously scanning the back of his head.
‘Oh heavens, yes, there is blood—oh!’
Even as she realised that he had somehow freed his hands he reached out and seized her. The next moment she was imprisoned in his powerful grasp and he had twisted her around so that it was she who was pinioned against the sacks, with Jack kneeling over her.
‘Some day I’ll teach you how to tie knots, my lady,’ he muttered, taking the pistol from her hand.
‘What are you going to do to me?’
She eyed him warily. Despite the shadows she felt his eyes burning into her.
‘What would you suggest? After all, you have done your best to murder me.’
‘That is quite your own fault!’ She struggled against him. ‘You had no right to be following me, dressed all in black like a common thief! Anyone might have mistaken you!’
She glared up at him, breathing heavily. She became aware of a subtle change in the atmosphere. Everything was still, but the air was charged with energy, like the calm before a thunderstorm. Her breathing was still ragged, but not through anger. He was straddling her, kneeling on her skirts and effectively pinning her down while his hands held her wrists. She stopped struggling and lay passively beneath him, staring at his shadowed face. He released one hand and drew a finger gently along her cheek.
‘I think we may have mistaken each other, Lady Allyngham.’
His voice deepened, the words wrapped about her like velvet. She did not move as he turned his hand and ran the back of his fingers over her throat. Eloise closed her eyes. His body was very close to her own and her nerves tingled. Her senses were heightened, she was aware of every movement, every noise in the small dark hut. She could smell him, a mixture of leather and wool and spices, she could feel his warm breath on her face. Eloise lifted her chin, but whether it was in defiance or whether she was inviting his lips to join hers she could not be sure. Her breasts tensed, her wayward body yearned for his touch.
It never came.
The spell