Compromising the Marquess (18 page)

Hal let out a long sigh. “You’re right but I’m resigned to the possibility that one of them might be a traitor.”

“Enough of this glum subject,” she said in a light tone. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“With the greatest of pleasure.” He offered her a charmingly correct smile. “Tell me, Miss Elliott, what brings you to this part of the world.”

She burst out laughing and suddenly the tension between them evaporated.

* * *

The suspects’ names meant nothing to Leah but she stored them away in her memory, determined to identify those two individuals as soon as she could. In the meantime she tried not to stare at Hal, her lethally handsome Viking with his swarthy complexion and penetrating brown eyes, as he waged a charm campaign to win her approval for reasons only he understood.

She tried to remain immune but before the meal had even started she was already fighting a losing battle. She looked to the others for a diversion but there was none to be had. Beth and Lord Gabriel were talking quietly to one another, oblivious to the rest of them. Flick and her brother Robert seemed to be bickering about Flick’s continued interest in Darius Grantley.

“You will have to make do with my poor company,” Hal said with a languid smile.

Silky blond hair fell across his brow as he leaned towards her, and she was hard-pressed not to reach out and push it back in place. Something in his complacent expression told her that he knew it, which vexed her. It was enough that she’d earned his derision through actions driven because she was unable to quell her passion. She wouldn’t have him think that her interest in him ran deeper than that.

There was something different about him tonight. He was preoccupied but trying not to show it. Well, of course he was! She was in a dudgeon because she felt neglected, whilst Hal had far weightier matters on his mind. If all went to plan, someone he had known and trusted for a long time would be branded a traitor and murderer before the night was out.

If the plan went awry, the brave young Frenchman currently quartered in the old nursery could finish up dead. The burden of responsibility he bore might well be too heavy, even for his broad shoulders. Leah wanted to reach out and touch him, tell him she understood, and apologize for her self-absorption.

His attention was briefly diverted by Flick calling upon him to support her defence of Grantley. Leah observed the casual affection with which he deflected that request and died a little inside. Somehow, without her even realizing it had happened, she’d lost all touch with reality and recklessly fallen deeply and desperately in love with this suave, highly intelligent, compellingly complex aristocrat. It was most irksome and highly improper. If Lord Gabriel stood too high on society’s ladder for Beth, any aspirations she might have fleetingly entertained about Hal Forster were just plain ridiculous.

Leah gave herself a mental shake and turned to address a remark to Lord Robert, seated on her other side. Thus the meal passed in a blur. The ladies didn’t withdraw since, when it ended, the first guests were already making their way up the long driveway.

“Come on then, Hal,” Flick said, standing. “Time to do your duty.”

Leah and Beth excused themselves. By the time they made their way to the ballroom, it was already filling up, Hal and Flick standing together at the head of the stairs to greet their guests. Unfortunately almost the first person Leah saw was her aunt, already well into a glass of champagne. She beckoned them over and she and Beth had no choice but to attend her.

“Well, girls,” she said. “What an evening this will be. I am pleased to see you so respectably turned out, although how you can afford it when you’re living on your uncle’s charity is a mystery to me. Still, I’m pleased that your intimacy with Lady Felicity has got you both noticed.” She appeared almost cordial, for once. “This reminds me of when I was a girl. I attended assemblies like this all the time in London.”

Leah and Beth exchanged a brief glance. Their aunt considered that she’d married beneath herself, which accounted for her bitterness. Sir Percy didn’t have a town house and actively disliked society.

“Did you dance with anyone well-known when you attended those soirees, aunt?” Beth asked.

“Well, actually, yes I did.” Aunt Augusta reached behind her to place her now-empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and grabbed a new one. At the same time she caught sight of Leah’s naked back and gasped. “What the devil do you think you’re about, girl?”

Leah refrained from rolling her eyes. Just for a moment there, her aunt had almost revealed a more pleasant aspect to her character. “I’m not sure I—”

“You have ideas above your station, but it won’t serve.” She paused to draw a furious breath. “You will leave the gatehouse by the end of the month. I won’t have you disgrace me in such a fashion. Besides, if you can enjoy such finery, you don’t need your uncle’s help to make your way in the world.”

With that she tottered away, leaving the girls gaping in her wake.

“Well, we were going to return to London, weren’t we?” Beth stole a quick glance at Lord Gabriel, who chose that moment to approach and request her hand for the first dance.

“We are now,” Leah muttered beneath her breath as Lord Gabriel excused himself and swept Beth away.

Leah too was much in demand when the dancing started. She barely remembered the names of her partners, nor what she spoke to them about. All the time she kept a surreptitious watch on Hal, who had yet to dance, despite being besieged by a plethora of matrons with young daughters in tow, principally Lady Bentley. He prowled the circumference of the ballroom, frequently exchanging a word or two with the footmen set to watch the two suspects. Was she the only person who could sense the charged atmosphere? It was a waiting game and she knew, deep within her core, that something decisive would happen before the sun rose.

The musicians struck up a waltz, which was Leah’s cue to leave the ballroom. She had no desire to waltz with anyone, except the one person forbidden to her. She would use the time to do a little sleuthing of her own, and see if she could detect anything odd in the behaviour of Hal’s suspects. The culprit might be wary of his lordship but they would never suspect her. It was a situation that cried out for a woman’s touch.

Before she could put her plan into action a large hand came to rest on the small of her bare back.

“My dance, I believe,” Hal said in a deep, persuasive drawl.

“You ought to dance with someone more suitable,” she said primly.

“And I’ve told you before, in my own house I do as I please.”

“I doubt that tenet is restricted to your own house,” she said archly, swinging into his arms anyway, aware of half the eyes in the room focused on them with varying degrees of interest.

“You’re probably right about that.” He offered her a tender smile that literally made her toes curl inside her slippers and her heart to do a strange little flip inside her chest.

They moved smoothly into step with one another. Leah was unable to disguise her pleasure at the honour he’d bestowed upon her, hard though she tried. His dancing was superb and it felt as though her feet floated above the floor, following effortlessly where his led.

“Are you good at absolutely everything you do?” she asked, intimidated by his proficiency.

“So I’m told.”

She was about to berate him when she looked up and saw laughter in his eyes. “You wretch! You’re teasing me.”

He laughed harder, tightening his hold on her waist. “You’re an easy person to tease.”

“I’m glad I supply you with such good sport,” she said, inverting her chin, wondering if she could have worded that less ambiguously. Any reference to their previous activities, however oblique, now caused her great embarrassment.

“You supply me with a great many things, my dear, but sport isn’t one of them.”

“Lady Bentley is glaring at us,” she told him. “So too is my aunt.”

“Lady Bentley and your aunt would do well to mind their own business.”

She was about to tell him that she
was
her aunt’s business and that said aunt had, in a fit of jealous rage, just made her homeless. In the end she didn’t do so. It would sound as though she was asking for his help, which she most certainly was not.

All too soon the dance came to an end and it was almost time for the supper interval. Hal’s attention was taken up by one of his guests so Leah wandered alone on to the terrace, requiring a moment’s solitude and fresh air. She leaned on the balustrade, breathing deeply, trying to think about anything other than Hal Forster. So hard was she concentrating on her efforts that it was a moment before she realised someone had called her name. She glanced about but the terrace was completely empty. Shaking her head, she decided she must have imagined it.

But no. There it was again.

“Miss Elliott. Over here.”

Without thought for the consequences, she followed the direction of the voice. Perhaps one of the outside guards needed an urgent word with Hal but couldn’t enter the ballroom. She had spent most of her waking hours on this estate over the past ten days, and many of the staff now knew her by name. She turned a corner, looked into an alcove where she thought the voice had come from.

“Is there anyone there?” she asked.

She received no response. About to walk away, she sensed a presence behind her. Her skin prickled and she was suddenly afraid. Hal had warned her not to wander outside alone but she hadn’t taken his warning seriously. No one was interested in her.

She realised how wrong she was to think so when a hand was clamped over her mouth and a dark sack was pulled over her head. Before she knew what was happening, or could do anything to defend herself, she was almost swept from her feet and spirited away.

Chapter Seventeen

Hal so enjoyed his dance with Leah that he let his guard down and was immediately swamped by guests requiring his attention. He had no choice but to exchange a few words with each of them. He then checked with Rob and was told that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

“We’d best leave Jean-Philippe safely upstairs until the supper interval is well under way,” he said. “Not much longer now.”

“You still think the killer will be dressed as a guest?”

“Yes, I do. Jean-Philippe wouldn’t be expected to go anywhere near the servants’ quarters, and so the servant will need to mingle with the intention of isolating Jean-Philippe.”

“Not as difficult as it sounds, given the noise level in this place and the constant flow of bodies,” Rob said, nodding his agreement. “Let me know when you want him down then.”

Hal kept a weather eye on the two suspects just the same and avoided any female who might trap him into dancing. So far Phillips and Humphrey hadn’t done anything to draw attention to themselves. Not that he’d really expected them to. The traitor was cautious and would leave the dangerous stuff to his minions.

It was now the supper interval and Hal set out to look for Leah, meaning to escort her in, but she was nowhere to be found. Annoyed to see Lady Bentley bearing down on him, he quickly made himself scarce. Still no sign of Leah and a feeling of deep unease trickled through his spine.

“Have you seen Leah anywhere?” Flick asked, moving to join him at the edge of the supper room. “I was hoping to persuade her to sing before the dancing recommences.”

Hal’s feeling of unease increased. “I thought she was with you,” he said.

“No, nor is she with Beth.” She nodded to the other side of the room where Beth and Gabriel were taking supper together. “And I very much doubt that she would voluntarily throw herself into her aunt’s company.” Flick shrugged. “She’s proved popular with the gentlemen this evening but I doubt that she would—”

“When did you see her last?”

“Well, I noticed her going out on to the terrace after your dance.”

Hal grasped his sister’s arm. “Did anyone follow her?”

“Not that I noticed.” Flick frowned. “Is something wrong, Hal? You look ready to murder someone
and
you’re hurting me.”

“Sorry.” Hal released her. “Everything’s fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” Hal set off for the terrace, Flick at his heels. “Stay inside.”

Flick continued to dog his footsteps, throwing questions at him. When she was obliged to pause and answer a question someone else addressed to her, Hal seized the opportunity to grab Darius Grantley.

“I have to be somewhere,” he said in an undertone. “Keep Flick occupied. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

To his credit, Darius merely raised a brow and nodded. “Will do,” he said.

The terrace was completely deserted, everyone inside again partaking of refreshment. Hal strode its length anyway, methodical and thorough. Jean-Philippe would be getting impatient. He couldn’t ignore him for much longer. If he could just find Leah. He called her name but there was no answer. About to return to the house, he noticed something bright lying on the ground. When he bent to pick it up, his heart stalled.

A tortoiseshell comb, studded with diamonds.

Hal swore, certain now that she had been abducted by someone acting for the murderer. But why? Hal pocketed the comb and strode back to the house, the answer obvious. He’d only danced once the entire evening, with Leah. The murderer probably mistook his interest in her for something more than it actually was and intended to use her to somehow get to Jean-Philippe. A murderous rage enveloped him as he tried to assure himself that they wouldn’t harm Leah. They needed her alive.

The first person he saw when he reentered the house was Rob.

“What’s amiss?” he asked. “You look demented.”

“Leah’s missing,” he said tersely.

“Missing? How can you be so sure in this throng?”

Hal pulled the comb from his pocket and showed it to Rob. “I found this on the terrace.”

“She could have dropped it and not realised it.”

Hal clung to that thought. “Possibly, but somehow I doubt it.”

“Perhaps her sister will know where she is?”

Hal glanced in Beth’s direction. She was still sitting alone with Gabriel, their heads almost touching. “I don’t want to distress her. She knows nothing of our true purpose tonight.” Hal shrugged. “Leah might simply have visited the ladies’ withdrawing room, but if she has she’s been in there a damned long time.”

“Why not send a maid to look for her?”

“Yes, perhaps I’ll do that.”

“You don’t think she’s done anything reckless, do you?” Rob asked. “Taken matters into her own hands in an effort to impress you? I told you not to involve her in this.”

“She rather involved herself. This ball
was
her idea.”

Rob shook his head. “I know you’ve taken a liking to her, but you never should have let her aboard
The Celandine.
”

“It’s a bit late for recriminations.” Hal pinched the bridge of his nose, mentally upbraiding himself for not having taken better care of her. In spite of Rob’s voice of reason, he
knew
something bad had happened to Leah.

“Ah, Lord Denby, there you are.”

Hal only just refrained from rolling his eyes. Lady Bentley distracting him was the last thing he needed.

“Your servant, ma’am,” he said, inclining his head, as did Rob.

“What a splendid gathering. It will be the talk of the district for decades.”
As long as that’s all they talk about.
“I was just saying to my daughter that I was sure you wouldn’t mind helping her to—” She glanced around, looking vexed when her daughter failed to materialise. “Where is the wretched girl? She never can be found when she’s needed.”

Thankfully, Lady Bentley moved away.

“You search down here,” Hal said to Rob as soon as she was out of earshot. “I’ll start on the upper floors. She might simply have retired to her room for a respite.”

“On my way.”

Hal conducted a systematic search of his enormous house, currently filled to capacity with over three hundred people, in the vain hope of finding one redheaded siren in a lovely turquoise gown. With each minute that passed, his anxiety grew. What the devil had become of her? Females didn’t just disappear in the middle of balls. He ran up to the room that had been allocated to her for the night—as far away from his as it was possible to be situated—but the only sign of her was a bonnet he recognized that the maid hadn’t tidied away.

Hal’s heart lurched. Something wasn’t right. Leah knew the dangerous game they were playing here tonight and wouldn’t voluntarily have hidden herself from public view.

Would she?

* * *

The hand remained clasped over Leah’s mouth, forcing the smelly sacking into her mouth whenever she attempted to open it. She was unable to bite the hand for the same reason. There were at least two of them, one on her left gagging her mouth, another holding her right arm and forcing her to walk forward at so rapid a pace that she almost fell over her skirts. She wanted to tell these people that they’d captured the wrong lady—she had nothing they could possibly want. She tried to slow down but they literally dragged her along, scraping the toes of her thin dance slippers along the ground until the fabric tore.

The fear occasioned by the original attack transmuted to anger. Just what did these ruffians think they were doing? How could they have got into the estate with all the extra guards Hal had in place? Questions without answers whirled through her head. Perhaps they had mistaken her for a lady of quality and hoped for financial gain from her abduction. She’d been alone on that terrace. If they’d been lying in wait for an opportunity to pounce, they might have noticed the diamond combs in her hair and thought her a worthy prize.

“Take the damned combs,” she would have shouted if she could. “I have nothing more to offer you.”

A chill passed down Leah’s spine. Perhaps abduction wasn’t their goal after all, in which case she could well imagine what they required of her. It was one thing offering her virginity to Hal, but entirely another to have it forcibly taken from her by these ne’er-do-wells.

Leah, struggling to breathe inside the vile sack, forced herself to think rationally. This was clearly a case of mistaken identity, and so she would tell her abductors when she was in a position to speak. In the meantime she ought to concentrate. Try to discover who these rogues were and where they were taking her. Neither of them had uttered a word since snatching her from the terrace what seemed like hours—but was actually probably only minutes—ago. No help there.

They were still on the terrace. She knew because she could feel the flagstones beneath her damaged slippers. Reason told her that they must be walking away from the ballroom. The house was illuminated with the light from a thousand candles. Even though the guests would now be concentrating on their supper, the terrace was lit by flambeaux, and anyone glancing out the window couldn’t fail to notice a woman with a sack over her head being dragged along by two men.

The terrace wound round three sides of the house. On the opposite side to which she’d been apprehended were the stables. They would be overflowing with coachmen and the conveyances used to transport the guests here. Her abductors couldn’t risk taking her that way.

Leah quelled her fear by reasoning it through. She had taken the opportunity to acquaint herself with the estate’s geography whilst walking in the grounds during brief breaks from overseeing the arrangements for the ball. She ought to use that knowledge to her advantage. If her captors were here under false pretences they wouldn’t risk being seen. So, the only place they could safely take her was to the woodland beyond the gardens on the side of the house she’d been snatched from.

Except Hal had men patrolling the perimeter, precisely to stop anyone sneaking in through the woods. Perhaps he’d withdrawn some of those men. Since his suspects and their minions were attending the ball, they had no need to arrive by less conventional means. Even if he hadn’t, the perimeter was vast, providing endless spots through which intruders could pass. If anyone was determined to get in undetected, they could almost certainly manage it. Leah had heard Hal say as much to Rob.

Her upper arm hurt where the man on her left was holding it in a vicelike grip. She would be bruised but suspected that would soon become the least of her concerns. The other man had removed his hand from her mouth, presumably because even if she attempted to scream they were beyond the rage of any likely rescuer. Grateful for that small freedom she opened her mouth wide anyway, only for it to fill with the putrid sacking as she breathed in. She spit it out, gagging, and heard a faint laugh from one of her captors.

Without warning she was lifted from her feet, each captor grasping one arm. Steps. She could hear their booted feet descending the steps at the end of the terrace. This impression was confirmed when they placed her back on her feet and she felt damp from the grass seeping between the torn toes of her slippers. When, still holding her arms securely, the men dragged her onto a gravel path, Leah felt a surge of optimism. This path led to the dower house. She’d never been inside it, but that must be where they were heading. There were no other buildings close to the main house in this part of the estate.

She heard a door opening and was pushed inside, which is when her optimism abruptly faded. They could only want her indoors for one purpose. A dim light filtered through the sacking that covered her face. She was being propelled backwards and tried to resist. It made not the slightest difference. Her legs collided with a seat, which she was pushed into. Then the sack was pulled off her head and she could see again. Cautiously she blinked several times, getting accustomed to the light from the single candle burning in the room.

Leah was furious. She was also afraid but was damned if she’d let it show. If these thugs thought she was a helpless young miss who’d never had to lift a finger to help herself, then they were about to discover that they’d abducted the wrong person. She had been brought up in a part of London where life was cheap, survival a constant struggle. Since the death of her parents she’d had to grow up quickly in order to support herself and her sister. She’d learned a few tricks along the way and wasn’t above putting them into practise now given the least opportunity.

She slowly looked up at the man standing directly in front of her. He wasn’t dressed like a common criminal, nor in the style of a gentleman. She had no idea who he was. Then her gaze rested upon the second figure and she expelled a long, relieved breath.

“Jean-Philippe!” she cried. “Thank goodness. How did you know I was here?”

* * *

Hal was about go downstairs again to see if Rob had been more successful when inspiration struck. Jean-Philippe! It would be just like her to go and visit him in his lair. Hal was about to ascend the stairs when a footman intercepted him.

“This was just left for you, my lord. It’s apparently urgent.”

“Thank you.”

Hal took the note from the footman’s hand, his stomach lurching when he recognized Leah’s handwriting. He’d seen it on enough of those damned invitation cards to know it at a glance.

“Who left it?” he asked sharply.

“It was delivered to the men on the gate, my lord, by an urchin. He said he’d been given a shilling by a
cove
to deliver it at once.”

Hal’s fear intensified. Any lingering doubts that Leah was lurking in some quiet corner of the house, lost in a book, were now well and truly scotched. He dismissed the footman, barely in control of his anger and fear.

Why in the world would Leah write to him at such a time?

Before Hal could read Leah’s note, Rob came thundering down the stairs from the nursery.

“They’re gone!”

“What!”

“Jean-Philippe and Martell. Their room’s empty.”

“The guards?”

“Knocked out cold. They’re coming to now but don’t remember a thing.”