Lord Ruthven's Bride (6 page)

Annabelle lunged away from the man. She cried out to ensure he followed her. Boots pounded on the ground close behind. Her foot plunged into in a hole. She stumbled and caught herself despite the pain that shot up her leg. A large object loomed in front of her. She dodged right.

“You are making things worse,” he shouted.

Blood pounded through her ears in a roar. Her lungs burned. Her foot struck something. How long could she run before she fell or hit something? Foliage thrashed behind her. He was near. Annabelle was sure she felt hot breath on her neck. She whirled and swung the branch. Her arm jarred with the hard contact of the branch with a body. He grunted. She swung a second time and the branch cracked on contact. He fell with a loud crash.

Annabelle lifted the branch for another swing, but iron fingers clamped around her ankle like a manacle and yanked. She dropped to her backside with a thud, but kept hold on the branch and wacked the man. He cried out and tried to scramble away. She swung again, hitting a leg—or maybe an arm. The crunch of leaves and twigs suddenly reached her ears. What was this new horror? Was the driver now chasing her as well?

Suddenly, the branch was pulled from her grasp. Annabelle toppled, shoulder first, onto the man. He rolled onto her. His weight forced the air from her lungs and she gasped for air. Darkness swirled around her. He seized her arms and shoved them above her head. She thrashed. Her life had come to an end. Her parents would mourn her the remainder of their lives.

“Forgive me,” she whispered.

Calum would grieve. But how quickly would he forget?

“Where is your cousin?” Lord Harley hissed.

Gratitude welled up in Annabelle. Lena still had a chance to waken and escape. What if Lord Harley still managed to find her?

“She ran away,” Annabelle said through a sob.

“Liar,” he snapped. “She would not leave you. I was going to let you live.”

She had to keep him talking. Give Lena more time to wake up and get as far away as possible. “Now who’s the liar?” she said.

“I will kill you—slowly.”

Leaves rustled to her right. Annabelle tensed. Had Lena heard them and come to help her?

“Run, Lena,” she shouted.

A large figure appeared beside them. Lord Harley cried out and tried to roll away. The newcomer seized him and yanked him to his feet. Annabelle scrambled backwards away from the men.

One of the men drove a fist into the other’s belly and he doubled over. Annabelle bumped into something hard. She jumped, then saw she had backed into a tree. She yanked up her skirt and, one palm against the trunk, pushed to her feet.

“Bastard,” one of the men growled, and he threw an upper cut to the other’s jaw.

Annabelle squinted in a vain attempt to distinguish which man was which—and who the newcomer was. One of them screamed. Lord Harley. No man could be more of a coward. Who was the other man? My God, she didn’t care who he was. Annabelle whirled.

“Lady Annabelle,” came a shout.

Annabelle ran faster. She banged into something and tumbled forward. Hard fingers seized her arm and yanked her back against a hard body. She screamed and twisted violently in an effort to break free.

“Lady Annabelle,” the man said.

She swung a fist at his face.

He grunted when her fist made contact, then he seized her arm.

“My lady, it is I, Mr. Waterson.”

A wave of vertigo slammed into her and the blackness made a vicious twist that tilted the murk around her. She clutched at the man’s coat and buried her face in his chest. Her knees buckled and she cried out when the ground gave out beneath her. Then her face pressed against soft linen and a warm body.

* * *

James’s chest tightened when Lady Annabelle began to weep. She struck at his face. Her small fist smashed into his left cheek.

“Lady—”

She twisted hard. James stumbled, felt himself falling, and twisted so that he hit the ground with her on top of him. She kicked his legs and his hold on her slipped. He rolled on top of her.

“No,” she cried out between tears, and thrashed beneath him.

“Lady Annabelle.”

She screamed. He wanted to release her, but she struggled so hard he feared she would break free and injure herself by running blind in the darkness. James hugged her so tight her hands were trapped between them and she couldn’t move. Her sobs tore at his heart, but the quick rise and fall of her breasts told him she was close to hysteria. He shifted his mouth to her ear and she stiffened.

“It is I, James Waterson,” he said. “You need no’ fear.”

An instant of silence followed, then she whispered, “Waterson—Lord Ruthven?”

“Aye, my lady.”

He expected her to demand that he get off her. Instead, she burst into tears. James lay frozen for a moment, uncertain what to do, then became uncomfortably aware of her lush hips beneath his. He pushed to his feet, pulling her up with him. Her legs buckled and he swung her into his arms.

His walk back to the shack seemed to take an hour, though he knew no more than fifteen minutes passed. They emerged from the trees and he spotted Benning standing beside the open door of Harley’s carriage. Light flickered through the door of the coach and James glimpsed a lady’s skirts draping the seat cushion. James’s shoulder tension eased a fraction. Lady Annabelle wouldn’t have to face the death of her cousin. When he and Benning had discovered her, James feared Harley had left her for dead.

He neared the carriage and Benning said, “I am pleased to see ye, my lord. I feared I would have to come looking for you.”

“Quit calling me ‘my lord’,” James said, and lifted Lady Annabelle into the carriage.

“Annabelle,” Miss Summerfield cried as he settled onto the cushion opposite her.

Lady Annabelle lifted her face from James’s chest and she looked at her cousin. Both women burst into tears. They reached for each other and James was startled at his reluctance to release Lady Annabelle. He did, however, and she practically fell into her cousin’s arms.

“You are unharmed, Annabelle?” Miss Summerfield said between sobs.

“Yes, yes, and you?” Lady Annabelle pulled back and began examining her head where she’d been injured.

“Yes,” she replied with a hiccupped laugh. “I hit my head in the fall from the carriage.”

“Oh, Lena.” She again hugged Miss Summerfield. “This is all my fault.”

“No,” her cousin said. “You saved us.”

Lady Annabelle shook her head. “I got us into this mess.”

“I should have been firmer in my refusal to accompany you to the arboretum,” Miss Summerfield said.

Discomfort edged through James at being privy to the intimate exchange and he started to step from the carriage.

“I should never have snooped into Lord Harley’s business,” Lady Annabelle said. “Why would he kidnap us over a tin box of jewelry?”

James froze.

“I don’t know,” Miss Summerfield said. “It was madness.”

“Tin box of jewelry?” he said.

Lady Annabelle nodded. “Two days ago, I saw Lord Harley bury something in Miss Morgan’s arboretum. That’s why we were there—why he—” She shook her head. “Why kill us over jewelry?”

“Ye say he buried the box?” James said.

She nodded. “We dug it up. He caught us as we were burying it again.” Her brow furrowed. “He asked about you, accused me of conspiring with you, and mentioned an investigation. What investigation?”

“Where is this box?” James demanded.

“Lord Harley put it in his pocket,” she said.

James grasped the handle above the door.

“You aren’t leaving us?” Lady Annabelle darted a glance past him, out the open door.

“Lord Harley can no’ hurt you anymore,” he said.

Her eyes grew wide. “Did you kill him?”

With every fiber of his being, James had wanted to kill him. “Nay, my lady. The law will deal with him.” And quite well, if the jewelry in the tin box belonged to any of his victims.

Her brow furrowed. “I have not known the law to be harsh with men in his position.”

Anger whipped through James. How right she was. “Never fear, Lord Harley will no’ escape justice.” Not this time.

She flashed a tremulous smile and he was startled by the leap of joy his heart took. When she released her cousin and grasped his hand with trembling fingers, he stilled.

“I can never repay you, sir. You saved my cousin.”

“Mr. Benning saved Miss Summerfield,” he said.

She gave a small laugh. “I have him to thank as well. And I will never forget what you both have done for us.”

“We are relieved you ladies are unharmed. Give me a moment to see to Lord Harley, then we will escort you home.”

Her expression sobered and she released him. “Of course.”

James caught the fear beneath the civil reply and wanted to enfold her in his arms and assure her no one would ever again do her harm.

His heart chilled.

He would never be able to hold her close. She belonged to another man.

The carriage stopped in front of Annabelle’s home and nervous tension knotted her stomach at the prospect of facing her parents. Lord Ruthven opened the door. She caught sight of the bright light that spilled from the mansion and drew a sharp breath. Lord Ruthven’s head snapped in her direction. Her cheeks heated. His gaze sharpened, then he glanced out the door and looked back at her. His expression had melted into neutrality, but she knew he understood her consternation. The only reason there would be so much light was because the entire house was roused.

Lord Ruthven jumped from the carriage. Annabelle exchanged a glance with Lena, then Lena took the hand he extended toward her. She stepped from the carriage, then Annabelle followed.

“Courage, my lady,” Lord Ruthven said. “They will be relieved you are safely home.”

“Then they will lock us in our rooms,” Lena muttered. “And rightfully so.”

They started up the walkway and got three steps when the front door opened. Annabelle started at seeing her older sister standing in the doorway.

“Mother,” Josephine called. “She is here.”

Annabelle exchanged a startled look with Lena as Jo hurried down the steps.

“I knew I heard a carriage arrive.” She reached them and her eyes widened. “My God, Annabelle—” She looked at Lena. “Lena.” Her brow furrowed. “What has happened? Are you all right?” Her gaze cut to Lord Ruthven and her eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

“This is Lord Ruthven. He saved us—well, he and Mr. Benning.”

“Mr. Benning,” Jo repeated, and looked at the driver.

“That is Michael,” Annabelle said. “Mr. Benning is dealing with Lord Harley.”

“What happened?”

Josephine’s demand was cut off by her mother’s cry. “Annabelle.” She nearly ran down the steps. She reached Annabelle and pulled her into a hug, then hugged Lena. “Where have you been?” Her brows drew down. “What happened?” Her gaze swung onto Lord Ruthven. “Sir, what are you doing here with my daughter?”

Annabelle laid a hand on her mother’s arm. “Mother, perhaps it is best if we go inside and discuss things.”

For an instant Annabelle thought her mother would demand to hear all right then, but she gave a curt nod that made Annabelle’s stomach churn harder. They went inside to the drawing room and Lord Ruthven remained standing while they sat.

“You may begin by telling me why you look as though--” Lady Montagu’s gaze locked onto Lena and she shot to her feet. “Lena, you are bleeding.

“It looks much worse than it is, Aunt,” Lena said.

“Come here.” She stepped around the coffee table as Lena rose and brushed past Josephine, then stopped beside Annabelle’s mother.

Lady Montagu carefully examined the gash above her temple. “Sit down,” she ordered, then crossed to the door and tugged the bell pull. She faced them. “Lord Ruthven, you will explain.”

“Mother—” Annabelle broke off when her mother sent a cutting look her way.

Josephine gave Annabelle’s hand a comforting squeeze.

“My lady,” Lord Ruthven began, but the door opened and Graham stood in the doorway.

“Graham, please have Dr. McKinley sent for.”

“There is no need for a doctor,” Lena said.

“Please do as I say. Send for Dr. McKinley,” Lady Montagu said. “Have tea brought in. Also, please send Roger to Baron Morgan’s home to find out where the marquess is. He and Nicholas need to be informed that Annabelle and Lena are safely home.”

Annabelle’s heart fell. Her father and Josephine’s husband had launched a search for them. What was her father going to do once he learned everything that had happened? She started at the realization that Lord Ruthven’s eyes were on her hands, which were twisting the fabric of her dress.

“Oh, and please see to Lord Ruthven’s driver.” Her mother looked at the viscount, brow raised. “He is your driver?”

“Aye, my lady.”

She looked at Graham. The butler angled his head in acknowledgment and left. She resettled on the couch, then looked expectedly at Lord Ruthven. He began his story, and Annabelle listened in shock as she learned of his suspicions that Lord Harley had killed four women, one of whom Annabelle knew. The tea came. Her mother poured and served, and paused in setting a cup before Lena when Lord Ruthven said, “If I am correct, the jewelry in the tin box belonged to some, if not all, the four women Lord Harley murdered.”

“My God,” Josephine breathed.

“How did you come to rescue the girls?” Annabelle’s mother asked.

“Lord Harley took an interest in Miss Morgan,” he replied. “I assigned Mr. Benning to watch her home. We saw Lord Harley force Lady Annabelle and Miss Summerfield into his coach, and followed.”

Josephine’s grip on Annabelle’s hand turned fierce when he told of how they found Lena, then how he came upon Annabelle being attacked by Lord Harley.

Her mother sat down again, and her tea remained untouched. She listened, her expression grim.

“I feel certain the contents of the tin box will convict Lord Harley of the four murders,” Lord Ruthven said.

“Not to mention his abduction of Annabelle and Lena,” she said. “Where is the earl now?”

“Mr. Benning took him to the magistrate.”

“We know Henry quite well. If Carson doesn’t arrive soon I will send a message that he is not to release the earl. My husband told me how you found Annabelle snooping in Lord Harley’s study. I assume that is what started this chain of events?”

Annabelle gasped and jerked her gaze onto Lord Ruthven. He’d betrayed her.

“Do not blame him for telling us,” her mother said. “Rifling through a man’s property is serious business. Your father and I were going to speak to you about the matter when you returned from Miss Morgan’s party. We could never have imagined you would nearly get yourself killed between then and now.”

Tears pressed against Annabelle’s eyes and she feared she would embarrass herself by blubbering like a little girl.

Rapid bootfalls sounded in the hallway. Annabelle tensed and, in the next instant, the door burst open and her father entered, followed by Josephine’s husband. Annabelle gave a small gasp when Calum stepped into the doorway behind them.

His gaze locked onto her. “Lady Annabelle.” He took a step forward, then seemed to catch himself and stopped. 

Annabelle caught the look that passed between Josephine and Nicholas, but had no time to try and decipher its meaning.

“Everyone is well?” her father demanded.

Footsteps echoed behind them and the two men turned as Graham ushered in Dr. McKinley.

Annabelle’s father looked sharply at Lady Montagu as she rose. “What happened?”

“Nothing serious, Carson. Lena has a small gash on her temple.”

Her father’s eyes darkened. “What is your part in this, Ruthven?”

“He saved the girls,” Annabelle’s mother said.

“Just as you saved my wife and daughter last night?” he snapped.

Lord Ruthven gave a stiff nod. “Aye, my lord.”

“Perhaps they wouldn’t have needed saving if not for you.”

“It is more likely we wouldn’t have needed saving if not for Annabelle’s curiosity,” her mother said. Her father glanced uncertainly between Annabelle and Lord Ruthven, and her mother added, “Dr. McKinley, your patient is here.” She gestured toward Lena, who rose and crossed to them. “Graham, please take them to Carson’s private study.”

Patient and doctor left, and Annabelle wished mightily that she could leave with them. But she had no wound with which to garner sympathy. Calum still stared as if he wanted to scoop her up and whisk her away...just as Lord Ruthven had done when he saved her from Lord Harley. A strange tremor radiated through her. The viscount had put himself in harm’s way to save her. She’d been terrified, had fought him, but when she heard his voice, she’d wanted him to wrap his arms around her as he had the night before in the garden and never let go. Annabelle started from her thoughts. Lord Ruthven was again recounting what had happened, while Calum still stared.

Lord Ruthven finished and Annabelle’s father wrote and sent a message to the magistrate that commanded him to hold Lord Harley until he had heard Lord Ruthven’s story.

“It seems I owe you a great deal,” her father said to Lord Ruthven.

The viscount gave a deferential cant of his head. “You are welcome, my lord.”

Calum stepped forward. “I, too, must offer my deepest thanks. I can never repay you for saving Lady Annabelle.” He extended a hand.

Surprise flickered in Lord Ruthven’s eyes. He accepted Calum’s hand, if a bit stiffly, and shook. Annabelle realized Lord Ruthven wasn’t accustomed to being in the company of a marquess—two marquesses, counting her father.

“Tomorrow I will speak with Henry. Ruthven, you will be there for the meeting, I assume?” her father asked Lord Ruthven.

“Aye, but first I will speak with the families of Lord Harley’s victims. I wish to identify the jewelry.”

Annabelle’s father shook his head. “I have known Monroe for over thirty years. I still cannot believe he is a murderer.”

“I’m sorry, Papa,” Annabelle said.

Her father’s expression cleared and he looked at her. The smile she’d grown accustomed to played at the right corner of his mouth as it always did when he softened toward her. He opened his arms and she rose and rushed to him, heedless of the room’s other occupants. He enfolded her close and she felt more like ten than twenty.

“I am sorry,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“As you should be,” he replied.

Annabelle drew back, locking gazes with him. “It was all my fault. Lena warned me.”

“Someone always warns you.”

She nodded and he released her. She caught Calum’s gaze, his expression drawn. He’d been worried. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, that he deserved a better wife. She slid her attention left, where Lord Ruthven stood staring at her. Her cheeks warmed. Calum shifted and she started when he looked from her to Lord Ruthven.

“Annabelle, perhaps you should retire for the evening,” her mother said.

Annabelle looked sharply at her mother. “Yes, of course.”

“I will have bathwater sent up.”

Annabelle nodded. “Thank you, Mama.”

She started toward the door. When she neared Calum, he said, “May I have a word with you, Lady Annabelle?”

Annabelle couldn’t prevent a glance at Lord Ruthven before nodding. “Of course, my lord.”

He reached the door before she did and opened it, then followed her into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Annabelle turned to face him, but he cupped her elbow and led her several steps from the drawing room door before stopping.

“I am sorry,” she blurted.

“How in God’s name did you get embroiled in this, Annabelle?”

Annabelle winced inwardly. As always, he spoke with deference, but she heard the worry in his voice.

“I wanted to know what Lord Harley buried.”

“Your mother mentioned you being in his private study with Ruthven.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t
with
him. He, too, was snoop—er, in Lord Harley’s study, and when he saw me there, made up an excuse to get me safely away from the earl.”

“What excuse did he make up, Annabelle?”

She blinked. “Why-well, that he and I...”

Calum’s mouth thinned. “And your father said he saved you and your mother last night. What was that about?”

Blast his brain. He never missed a thing. “On the way home from the party last night we encountered highwaymen.”

“Highwaymen?” he burst out. “I knew I should have escorted you home.”

“We had no way of knowing what would happen,” she said.

“Yet Ruthven was there.”

“Coincidence. Nothing more.”

“Just as it was coincidence that he was in Lord Harley’s study when you were there, and he was watching Miss Morgan’s home when you were kidnapped. My God, Annabelle, you were kidnapped, and by your appearance, very nearly killed.”

Lord Ruthven had recounted saving her from Lord Harley, but he hadn’t given details and she hadn’t been asked to elaborate.

“Lord Ruthven explained why he was at Miss Morgan’s home,” she said.

“Yes, I heard every word. What you don’t seem to realize is that in the last day he has been there every time you have been in need.”

She stared. Was he jealous?

He shook his head. “I am sorry, Annabelle. I have no right to be angry with you.”

She laid a hand on his arm. “But you do. I shouldn’t have entered Lord Harley’s study and I shouldn’t have gone to the arboretum to investigate.”

“You could have told me you thought something was wrong with the earl.”

She smiled gently. “That’s just it. I didn’t think anything was wrong. I was simply nosy.”

“Why did you not tell me highwaymen attacked your carriage last night?”

“I-I didn’t think of it.”

Hurt appeared in his eyes.

“I did only see you for a few moments at Miss Morgan’s home. We only said hello before you left with her brother.”