The Heiress (22 page)

“Me neither,” Daniel said grimly, getting to his feet. So much for her being upstairs nursing her supposedly broken heart.

“Sit, Daniel,” Lady Woodrow said without even glancing around to see him on his feet.

The woman always had seemed to have eyes in the back of her head when it came to him, he thought grimly, and sat back down. He didn’t know why he’d got up anyway. Suzette didn’t love him. She’d cared so little she’d run off with the first man who offered for her. She hadn’t even waited a full bloody day. He really had just been the first handy bloke to suit her needs and, apparently, any man would do. It was damned lowering after what they’d shared in the stables. If Suzette thought she would experience that kind of pleasure with just any man, she had a sorry disappointment coming . . . and it served her right, he decided.

“How long ago did they leave?” Robert asked as Richard rejoined them.

Despite his suddenly glum mood, Daniel found himself waiting tensely for the response.

“No more than an hour ago,” Christiana murmured. “Father insisted on going with them and made them take the time to eat first. He also dallied as long as he could over packing though I’m sure he never unpacked here. I think he hoped you’d return with news before they left.”

“Bless him,” his mother said and then glanced to Richard in question, “How long until the food will be ready?”

“The innkeeper assured me it would be out right away. His wife has a stew on the hob and some left-over roast beef from last night. She’s going to bring the juice of the stew and a roast-beef dinner for him right away.”

“Good, good.” Lady Woodrow ushered Christiana and Lisa to the table, and then suggested, “Perhaps we should all eat then.”

When Richard hesitated and glanced uncertainly toward Daniel, Lady Woodrow waved her hand in a dismissing gesture and said, “Never mind him, he is sulking. His nose is out of joint because Suzette has run off to marry another. It’s for the best anyway. This way we need not fight to get him to keep his promise to eat and he
does
need to eat.”

“I am not sulking,” Daniel said through gritted teeth as Richard moved off to let the innkeeper know they would all be eating. “And stop talking about me like that. I am sitting right here.”

“I notice you don’t deny your nose is out of joint,” Lady Woodrow said easily as she settled on the bench next to him with Christiana and Lisa on her other side.

“My nose is not out of joint,” he said now, and then raised his chin and added, “She has done me a favor. If she cares so little for me that she would run off with the first man who came along, then she has saved me future heartache.”

“Oh but—” Lisa began, but was shushed by his mother.

“After he eats,” she said gently, and explained, “Daniel can be terribly bullheaded when he wishes. It is better he eats before he rushes off to rescue her.”

“Rescue who?” Daniel asked with a frown. “She went willingly, did she not?”

“I wonder why you cannot now even speak her name?” his mother said pensively, and then glanced around as Richard and the innkeeper and his wife approached, each carrying a platter. “Oh, here is the food. Wonderful.”

Daniel scowled but kept his tongue. He wasn’t saying
her
name because he didn’t wish to, and he had no intention of rushing off to rescue her, he thought, as he grimly worked his way through the broth that had been set before him. She was getting married, not murdered. If he could be replaced that easily . . . He swallowed a spoonful of broth, and managed not to choke on either it or his anger. She had disappointed him, first by accepting without question that some letter he hadn’t written could be from him, and second by accepting this other man’s proposal. It was not at all like Suzette. He would have expected her to come hunt him down and demand answers. Especially after what they had shared in the stables.

At least she would have had she cared for him, Daniel thought as he pushed the empty bowl aside and pulled the plate with beef and rumbledethumps on it in front of himself. Rumbledethumps was a combination of potatoes, onion and cabbage that was common along the Scottish border. Daniel generally enjoyed them. He hardly tasted it this time though; his mind was on Suzette and her betrayal. Did she really think he could be so callous as to take her innocence and then break off their engagement?

“So, from what you boys told me at the house, there have been a couple of accidents this last week,” his mother said suddenly into the silence as they ate.

Richard nodded. “It looked as if someone had cut three quarters of the way through three of the spokes of one wheel on the carriage we men were traveling in, and then Daniel and I were nearly trampled in town.”

“You thought those accidents were not accidents at all, but murder attempts on you, Richard?” Lady Woodrow queried.

“Yes, but we decided they might be accidents after all when it turned out that wasn’t the case,” he said evasively.

She didn’t press him to find out how he knew that, but merely said, “However, Daniel was also nearly a victim of both accidents?”

“Well, yes,” Richard said slowly, obviously not following her.

“Considering his being shot today, I would guess he was really the intended victim of the other two incidents, wouldn’t you?” she asked gently.

Richard’s eyes widened and he glanced toward Daniel with surprise, but got no reaction.

“And these attacks only started once Daniel agreed, or seemed to agree, to marry Suzette?” his mother asked next.

“It did occur to me that the friend of Dicky’s who was supposed to marry her may be behind the accidents,” Daniel admitted quietly.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Richard asked with amazement.

Daniel shrugged. “It was just a suspicion. We didn’t know the name of Dicky’s friend who was supposed to marry Suzette, just that his nickname was Twiddly, and we were heading for Gretna Green right away. I assumed that once we were married the fellow would give up, so why worry about it? I felt sure that so long as we checked the carriages over thoroughly before leaving each morning, all should be well. And it was.”

“Until you were shot,” Robert pointed out dryly.

“That was unexpected,” he admitted grimly. “I didn’t expect such an open assault. Being shot would hardly be thought an accident.”

“Did Suzette take the letter she received with her?” Lady Woodrow asked suddenly as he took another bite of food.

“No.” Christiana leaned forward to peer past Lisa toward the woman. “I have it.”

“May I see it?” she asked.

“Of course.” Christiana pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and held it out.

Daniel’s chewing slowed as he watched his mother uncrumple the paper and try to flatten it out on the table. When she bent her head to read it, he leaned close to her side to read it as well, and sucked in a horrified breath as he read the cold words.

“How the devil did whoever wrote this know about the stables?” he asked with alarm.

“What about the stables?” Richard asked with confusion.

Daniel’s mother ignored the question and murmured, “Hmm. Obviously whoever wrote this was watching you. If the two of you thought you were alone it’s no wonder Suzette believed this letter could only be from you.”

“Yes,” he realized with dismay.

“And not only was this letter meant to break her heart, but her spirit too,” his mother pointed out grimly. “The poor girl must have writhed with shame.”

“Yes,” Christiana said solemnly. “She thought we would all hate her now, even Lisa and I.”

“What the devil does that letter say?” Robert asked, standing to come around the table.

Daniel snatched the letter and shoved it in his pocket. No one else would ever see it if he had anything to say about it. It was a cruel, nasty piece of work that made the beautiful interlude he and Suzette had shared seem like something lewd and sordid. A literary snake in the Eden he’d found in her arms.

Robert hesitated, but after a moment returned with resignation to his seat.

“And certainly she would believe no man would want her to wife after reading those cruel insults,” Lady Woodrow said now. “This fellow who suddenly appeared to claim her must have seemed like a knight in shining armor in the dire straits she is in, what with the need to marry to pay off the markers and avoid scandal.”

“His name is Jeremy Danvers,” Lisa reminded them. “He was on her dance card at the Landons’ ball, but Richard’s arrival at the ball made her refuse the dance. She came and got me and dragged me to Christiana instead of dancing with him.”

“Danvers?” Robert echoed. “Well he would certainly fill out Suzette’s requirements. He has a barony and land but no money to run it.”

“It wasn’t just that,” Christiana said unhappily. “And it wasn’t just the shame or the fear that no one else would marry her either. Father said Suzette is worried that there may be other . . . consequences of the event in the stable and she wished to ensure all would be well on that end.”

“What consequences?” Richard asked, and it was a question Daniel was wondering himself.

When Lisa merely shook her head and flushed, Daniel frowned. He almost repeated the question himself to make her answer it, but then it suddenly hit him, as unexpectedly and sharply as the bullet had struck him in the back. It took his breath away just as effectively too. Suzette could be with child.

Daniel was on his feet at once and heading for the inn door. Whether it was the restorative power of the food, or the bracing effect of the blood suddenly thundering in his veins, he didn’t know, but his earlier weakness was gone now and his mind was as sharp as a knife blade and focused only on one thing. He had to get to Suzette. Daniel was so focused on this he barely heard the commotion behind him and was only aware that he was being followed when Robert spoke.

“Danvers,” the man said with disgust as they stepped out of the inn. “I knew he needed coin but didn’t think him the sort to sink this low.”

“We will stop him,” Richard said firmly, drawing Daniel’s attention to his presence as well.

“We will,” Lady Woodrow agreed, making them all stop and turn to see her leading Lisa and Christiana out of the inn. “According to the girls, Danvers’s carriage only has two horses. We will travel in two carriages with four horses each and catch up to them in no time. The maids can follow more slowly.”

Daniel scowled. “It would be faster if we men followed on horseback.”

“Riding horseback might aggravate your wound. Besides, then you’d just have to wait for us anyway or return to collect us,” Lady Woodrow pointed out sensibly, before adding, “And do you really think Suzette will listen to you after that letter supposedly from you?”

“Richard and Robert can explain—”

“She will listen more readily to a woman at this point,” his mother said gently as she led the girls to where the men stood. “Besides, you are injured and the men may be busy with Danvers and his driver. The man has already proven himself willing to kill to gain her dower. He will not give her up easily.” She shook her head. “It is better if we all go, then together we can tackle any situation that arises.”

When Daniel hesitated, she reached up to caress his cheek. “We will catch them up, son. I promise. I would not risk your happiness and a possible grandbaby. You must know that?”

Daniel clucked with irritation at the delay, but knew it might be the smartest tack to take. With two carriages and four horses each they should catch up well before Gretna Green. And the women may become necessary if things got complicated. Certainly, Suzette would listen more readily to her sisters. On top of that, his mother was handy with wounds. She would come in most useful if anyone was injured or his gunshot wound reopened, which was a good possibility. Daniel had no intention of standing back and letting Richard and Robert fight his battle for him. He wanted to ring Danvers’s neck himself.

“Very well,” he said, finally, and then glanced to Richard and Robert. “If you two will see that the carriages are prepared, I’ll pay our bill and have the chests brought down. Let’s be quick. I should like to catch up to them before they marry and I am forced to make Suzette a widow.”

Chapter Fourteen

I
’m surprised, Danvers, that you didn’t stop to speak to Richard before he and Langley left.”

Suzette heard her father make the comment, but paid it little attention, her gaze staying trained blindly out the window as she tortured herself with memories of her time with Daniel. If only she’d done things differently, it would be him in the carriage with her instead of Jeremy, she thought and then grimaced at her own traitorous mind.

Her thoughts had been terribly uncooperative for the entirety of this journey so far. The fact that—despite her father’s dallying—the men hadn’t managed to return before they departed, told her that while Richard and Robert had obviously taken their time at trying to talk Daniel into going through with marrying her, he hadn’t been convinced. And frankly, if he needed convincing, she didn’t want him. He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was if he would turn her away as he had.

At least that was what Suzette had told herself as they’d ridden away from the inn in Danvers’s carriage. Of course she’d changed her mind back and forth several times since then. She loved him and would take him any way she could have him. She hated him for rejecting her and never wanted to suffer the humiliation of seeing him again. She hated herself for not behaving more decorously and for driving him away with her passion. And then she would return to loving him and taking him any way she could. It was exhausting and simply left her feeling lost and tired, because the reality was he didn’t want her and she was going to marry Jeremy.

The very thought brought tears to her eyes and Suzette blinked rapidly to try to drive them off. Perhaps if she closed her eyes, she could pretend Jeremy was Daniel to help her get through the ceremony tomorrow, Suzette thought, and then frowned. At least she assumed it would have to wait until the next day. Surely, it would be too late when they arrived in Gretna Green, and they would have to take rooms at an inn and wait until the morrow to be married?

“Why would I speak to Richard?” Danvers said finally. While he’d tried to sound indifferent and unconcerned, something in his voice caught her ear and Suzette turned to glance his way, noting that the constant thumb twiddling that he’d been doing since they’d got into the carriage had stopped. His fingers were now clenched tightly together as he returned her father’s stare.

“The two of you are friends, are you not?” Cedrick Madison asked as she turned her gaze out the window again. “I seem to recall you being there at the club and then the gaming hell this last time I lost so much.”

“You remember that night?” There was definitely wariness in Danvers’s voice now and Suzette wondered idly why that was, but didn’t really care.

“Bits and pieces. Enough to recall that you and Dicky appeared quite chummy,” Lord Madison said grimly, his hand massaging his cane handle. It was a sure sign that he was agitated, but then he’d been agitated since finding out she was going to marry Jeremy.

“We are friendly acquaintances only,” Danvers muttered.

Suzette turned her gaze his way again, noting that his face was turned to the window and his thumbs twiddling around each other once more.

“How did you find out about my markers?” her father asked next.

“I told you, Cerberus gave it to me in lieu of payment,” Jeremy answered shortly, his charming visage slipping.

“Aye, that’s what you said,” her father agreed grimly. “But I find it hard to believe that anyone would agree to an arrangement where they had to hunt down the payment themselves, or indeed that any respectable owner of a gaming establishment would even suggest it.”

“Cerberus is hardly respectable,” Jeremy muttered. His twiddling had picked up in speed so that the thumbs were whirling around and around each other very fast.

“Yes. So I’ve heard. I’ve been told he drugs and fleeces the unwary, like myself . . . which is why I find it so hard to believe that you won anything, let alone such a large sum.”

Jeremy shifted impatiently and snapped, “Well, I did, which makes you most fortunate that I am willing to marry your daughter in lieu of payment, doesn’t it? Can we change the subject now?”

Her father narrowed his eyes. “We have learned that Dicky led me to the gaming hell again and tricked me out of more money to ensure a friend of his could marry my Suzette as he had my Christiana,” he said grimly. “And it’s very odd that you happened to arrive to save the day just as my gel was getting her heart broken.”

Suzette stared at her father, wondering when they had learned that. Obviously, it must have been discovered while she had been in the parlor with Lisa. What else had she missed? She frowned slightly and recalled that Daniel never had got around to telling her who had poisoned George. Not that she’d thought to ask him again. Cold as it was to admit, she was just glad the man was dead, doubly so now if he had planned to force her into an unwanted marriage too. Really, the only regret she had about Dicky’s death was that she wished he’d suffered more.

“I have no idea what Dicky’s motives were,” Jeremy muttered. “And it was just happenstance that I arrived when I did. A happy coincidence that I ran into Suzette and heard her troubled tale.”

He smiled at Suzette, but she didn’t smile back. Her father’s questions had drawn her far enough out of her self-pity so that her brain was starting to think again for the first time since receiving Daniel’s letter.

“The only thing we know about this friend of Dicky’s is that he is called ‘Twiddly,’ ” her father announced, and stared meaningfully at Jeremy’s hands, which had suddenly stilled mid twiddle. Mouth tightening, he accused, “You are the friend of Dicky’s who planned to marry my Suzette. You were in on the scheme from the start, and the happy coincidence of your arriving just as the letter did tends to make me wonder if Daniel wrote it at all.”

Suzette stiffened at the suggestion. He had her full attention now.

Cedrick Madison set his cane aside and turned to her to take her hands as he pointed out, “Daniel was damned eager to marry you, girl. He even asked me not to tell you about my selling the townhouse so that you wouldn’t think you no longer had to marry.”

“And you agreed to that?” she asked with amazement.

He shrugged. “You can be a stubborn girl, Suzette. And sometimes you are your own worst enemy. I had no trouble believing that you might avoid marrying him out of fear. But it was obvious to me that you both loved each other.”

“You think he loved me?” she asked in a small voice, afraid to hope.

“I’m sure of it,” he said solemnly, and then added, “No man would put up with your nonsense if he didn’t love you.”

Suzette frowned slightly at the backhanded compliment.

“But whether he did or not, Woodrow is too honorable to have his way with you and then take a runner,” her father continued grimly. “Besides, he didn’t seem to me to be a coward who would give such news in a cold letter. There is something wrong here. I think we should return to the inn and wait to hear about Daniel.”

Suzette hesitated. Her heart was already broken, the worst that could come of their returning was more humiliation and while just moments ago she would have done almost anything to avoid that, her father’s words had given her hope. If there was even the slightest possibility that Daniel hadn’t written that letter . . . Surely it was a possibility? She’d never seen his handwriting before, and someone could have seen them in the stables and perhaps known about that.

Swallowing, she gave a small nod.

“That’s my brave girl.” Her father patted her hand and started to turn to Danvers. “Stop the—”

Suzette had been staring at her hands, but when his words died abruptly and Lord Madison suddenly slumped against her, she glanced to him with alarm.

“Father?” Suzette caught him as he started to slide toward the floor of the carriage and then glanced to Danvers to see that he was holding her father’s cane by the bottom so that the iron handle could be used as a club, which he had obviously used on her father. At her glance, Jeremy smiled coldly and shrugged, allowing it to slip through his fingers until he was grasping the handle. He set it on the bench seat beside him now and drew a pistol.

“We will not be stopping,” he said solemnly. “And you
are
marrying me.”

“Not bloody likely,” Suzette snapped at once, easing her father to rest in the corner of the carriage seat so that he slumped against the wall.

“You should have said something like, ‘Over my dead body,’ ” Jeremy said idly. “Then I could have replied, ‘No, over
his
dead body.’ Because I
will
kill your father if you don’t.”

Suzette stared at him, wondering where all that gentle charm had come from and where it had gone. It was like facing an entirely different man. Was it so easy to pull the wool over her eyes? Apparently so, she thought unhappily and opened her mouth; but before she could speak, Jeremy forestalled her by saying, “Please don’t say anything as droll as, “You can’t do this.” He grimaced and pointed out, “I already have. Now use his cravat and tie him up,” he ordered coldly. “Tightly, mind. I should hate for him to get loose and get himself shot before the wedding.”

D
aniel raised his eyebrows in question as Richard hurried back across the inn yard toward the carriage. Rather than waste the time involved in everyone getting out at each stop, one person did it. Richard and Robert had been taking turns at it to save Daniel from aggravating his injury.

“No sign of them?” he asked as Richard neared.

Radnor shook his head, his expression grim, and Daniel glanced to the carriage stopped behind their own in time to see his mother withdraw her head from the open door and close it. She had heard Richard’s answer too and was now no doubt telling Lisa and Christiana the news.

After the first hour, their party had been stopping at each inn so that they could check to see if Danvers’s carriage had perhaps been there and might be still. They had expected him to stop for meals or to allow everyone to stretch their legs and relieve themselves. Even if he had decided to drive straight through, the man would have to stop eventually, if only to change horses. However, it appeared he hadn’t stopped so far.

“I begin to suspect he isn’t going to stop at all and we are wasting time stopping at each inn we pass,” Daniel admitted grimly as Richard climbed into the carriage.

“Hmm,” Robert muttered with disgust. “If he shot you and wrote the letter Suzette received, then he’ll no doubt be eager to get her to Gretna Green and get the deed done before anything can interfere.”

Daniel sank back on the bench seat to peer at Robert and Richard across from him, then said, “Maybe we should stop checking each inn. We are wasting a lot of time, and even if they do stop and we pass them, it can only be to our benefit to arrive at Gretna before them. We could lie in wait then.”

He waited for both men to nod their agreement before giving these instructions to his driver.

S
uzette breathed out a little sigh of relief as she saw her father’s eyes flutter. He had been unconscious for so long, she had begun to fret that Danvers had hit him so hard he might never wake again. But he was coming around . . . and now she could carry out the plan she’d come up with while waiting for him to regain consciousness.

Danvers had put his gun away the moment she’d finished tying up her father. Suzette supposed he didn’t feel threatened by her enough to bother keeping it out. Whatever the case, he was twiddling his thumbs again and staring out the window into the darkness blanketing the countryside.

“We shall have to stop at the next inn,” she announced coldly. “I need to use the facilities.”

Danvers glanced at her with disinterest, and then turned back to the window. “No.”

“I need to relieve myself,” she insisted pointedly.

Jeremy merely shrugged. “Then you had best get used to a damp dress, because we are not stopping.”

Suzette narrowed her eyes grimly. She had half expected this answer and come up with a contingency plan should it happen. She carried it through now and got up from her seat.

“What are you doing?” Danvers barked, glancing around with surprise when the rustle of material warned him she was moving. She was standing up when he looked and moving toward him by the time he tugged his pistol out. Suzette ignored it and turned her back to him, not terribly concerned that he would shoot her. She was the golden goose, after all. She was relatively safe—at least she was until they were wed—so dropped to sit on his lap.

“What the devil?” Jeremy gasped, sounding alarmed now and trying to remove her by pushing on her back. “Get off me and sit in your seat.”

Suzette braced her hands on the carriage walls to prevent his shifting her. “If I am going to be damp and uncomfortable because you are a rude bounder, then so shall you be,” she said calmly, and then added, “Bear with me, my lord, this should only take a minute.”

She could hear the gasping sound of his sucking in one horrified breath, and then he choked out, “You can not mean to—”

“Yes, actually,” she assured him calmly. “That is, of course, unless you’d care to stop so I might tend my needs in an alternate fashion . . . one that leaves us both dry.”

Suzette caught her father’s open alarmed eyes and winked. She then closed her eyes. Lord Madison got the message at once and closed his eyes again, feigning unconsciousness. The moment he did, she added, “Please make your decision quickly, my lord. I fear I cannot hold it much longer.”

“All right, dammit!” Giving up on trying to remove her, he banged on the carriage wall, yelling, “Stop the carriage, Thompson. Stop at once, I say.”

The moment the carriage began to slow, Danvers said, “There, we are stopping. Now get off me, woman.”

“With pleasure,” Suzette said dryly and moved to settle herself demurely back in her seat. A glance Danvers’s way showed him peering at her as if she were a madwoman or some unclean creature. She smiled sweetly in response. “I cannot wait until we are wed.”

When Danvers’s eyes dilated with a sort of horror, she chuckled softly, which brought a scowl to his face.