Page 22

Chapter fifteen

We spent another short day at Westhill Park.

Lord Oberton played an exceptional host, his purpose being to ply my mind for any and all information.

It had frustrated Tobias but I understood.

Had he not said that the smallest bit of information could be useful?

I answered as best as I could. As thought, I knew nothing of import.

All told, the remainder of my time at Burtins had been rather quiet and uneventful. Nothing happened outside of Cecily’s healing. Gaining all he could, Lord Oberton provided a comfortable coach to take us back to Mayfield. A generous gesture.

When Cecily slept, Tobias took my hand within his—would I ever grow accustomed to his touch, his glance, his regard?

Joseph’s guards remained with us until we parted ways at luncheon at a coaching inn. Butterton was another ten miles away, and the men would return to Joseph.

Soon, we were back at Mayfield and Tobias threw himself into work and I became Cecily’s teacher.

Her young mind was eager for engagement.

We spent many quiet evenings by the fire.

Tobias continued to offer gentle embraces before we retired, but he said nothing else and made no offer of marriage.

His passionate words spoken when we’d reunited had settled within his gaze and a few murmured loving words.

He felt the same. I’d hoped he would have sealed his love by now but—

I turned my focus from him to the snapping fire.

The chill of November had slipped in freezing draughts about the large rooms. It was hard to stay warm.

I longed for his arms to wrap around me with solid reassurances concerning our future.

I would have plied him on the subject if he had not been so busy and exhausted.

Immediate dangers were eliminated, and his concerns had firmly settled on finding his missing nephew.

But one did not take a woman’s heart without a forthcoming promise.

But what could I do? I didn’t want to leave, felt no compulsion to do so.

But we could not continue like this either.

I must have stared too long in the fire. I thought he’d left the room to retire. He slipped next to me and gently bumped my shoulder with his. “Something is wrong.”

I stiffened and turned to face him. “Is there? Another threat to your life?”

“Perhaps the threat is here.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I fear losing you.”

“Do you?” I feared the same. So much.

His eyes warmed as his hand slid from the place over his heart and into my hand. “There are things I must attain—I—” He paused. “I don’t deserve a woman like you, Tessa. Though I do not wish it, every Chinworth has a past. I want to forget mine. Desperately.”

“You are forgiven it.”

“Am I? The more I take note of Father’s doings and even Samuel’s and Zachary’s, the more I see a finger pointing back at me. I’ve failed to be good when I should have been.” He took my other hand. “I was not in jest when I told you I would endeavor to be worthy of you.”

“Worth comes from God.”

He nodded. “This I know. Had I realized it sooner.”

“Then…” Confusion swirled.

“I must still do the work…I wish…” He pulled from my side and walked away, his words trailing behind him.

He was in turmoil over his past. What could I do? Run after him? I did so.

“Tobias” I took his hands in mine. “I will wait. For as long as it takes.”

He gathered my face between his hands and kissed me as he had the first time. Just don’t make me wait too long …I wanted the world to know of our love. Gone were the cold draughts in this house. He warmed me through and through.

He reluctantly stepped away from me, taking a deep breath. “You are a beautiful soul, Tessa.” His eyes melded into mine.

A scrape sounded like metal upon metal. His gaze shifted from mine.

A nerve fluttered between us. We’d endured too many dangers.

So much so, that any strange sound made our ears perk like a dog’s.

Perhaps it was nothing. We needed to relax more.

I would diffuse the tension and soften his jaw that had instantly locked at the sound.

“The staff—someone must be performing a chore of some sort.”

“Tessa, none of them are required to scrape about upon anything outside. The gardener does not work at night.”

He was right.

“Someone or some animal is outside that window.”

I looked to where he gazed. The drapes had been closed except for a slender gap. Anyone might have spied upon us.

The window darkened with a moving shadow. The wolf hounds began to bark.

“I trust my gamekeeper has set the dogs loose and frightened him away.” Tobias inched toward the window.

I laughed. “Those gentle beasts? They are foreboding in size, but they wouldn’t hurt a fly. On purpose, that is.”

He smirked. “You’re right. I need a better guard dog.” He threw his hands in the air. “It couldn’t possibly be another weapons cache arriving. We’ve nipped that in the bud.”

He approached the window and pulled back the drapery. I did not think fast enough. Was but a few moments before I realized his mistake. I reached for him.

“Get away from the—”

A blast sounded—the glass shattered in front of him.

He shoved me behind him as we both threw ourselves to the ground and crawled away. The dogs barked in earnest as shouts and more gunfire erupted.

“Are you hurt?” I asked him.

“No. He missed. Get to Cecily, Tessa. Run.”

I did as told and scrambled away from him. My room now connected to hers. My pistol was there. And my dagger. I’d hoped the weapons to be retired from use. But no.

Someone still wanted Tobias Chinworth dead. Realization flooded me. Something Oberton had said… “We did not know you would suddenly travel to Burtins. The situation merely became useful. We knew your presence there would set things in motion …”

My stomach clenched as my hands shook. I ran into my room and strapped the dagger to my leg and prepared my gun for use. I made my way to Cecily’s bed—a rush of relief flooded me. She was there, sound asleep.

I approached to peer at her angelic face only to find the lump beneath the blankets naught but more blankets to make it look as though she slept.

She’d sneaked out of her room. Again. She had not done so since that night the fever had taken hold and we’d found her at the Burtins ruins.

Had she a bad dream? Or was it an old habit returned?

She’d been doing so well that my watch over her had grown lax.

I swallowed at bile that rose in my throat.

Even Tobias agreed that we needed more space between us that she might learn to use her wings—in small ways.

She needed to learn how to serve herself—choose a book to read, light her own candle, etc.

She would be celebrating her twelfth birthday soon.

“Cecily?”

I checked behind the privacy screen. Nay, she would not be there—not when the bundle beneath the blanket meant to deceive.

I pulled the bell-pull. The servants were no doubt awakened at this point. My maid arrived with due haste.

“Mary, Cecily is gone—perhaps wandering the estate as she used to do. Stay here in case she returns.”

The young woman paled. “I heard gunfire, Miss!” Her eyes flicked to my pistol.

“It wasn’t mine. Do stay, I must see to my charge. Ring the housekeeper if she’s returned.”

“Yes, miss.” The woman wrung her hands. “What should I do if a brigand enters the room?”

“I daresay we aren’t overrun with them.” I winced once again at the thought that most women could not defend themselves.

I picked up the fire poker by the hearth.

“But if one does come after you, scream like a madwoman.” Screaming was a largely underestimated action.

Wasn’t ladylike and therefore unacceptable behavior.

Yet being inappropriately loud could save one’s life.

Yet another thing I needed to teach Cecily. I ran from the room and made my way to the kitchen. She was partial to two specific places and had lately been begging the reluctant cook to allow her to bake as Mrs. Fredrickson had.

Cook stood by the large oven with hands on her hips, her mop cap askew, and an apron hastily tied.

“Have you seen Cecily?”

She shook her head with an eyeroll. “I’ve not seen the little imp.” She clanged a pot upon the stove. “The old master wouldn’t expect me to boil up soup in the middle of the night, would he?”

“Cecily is not an imp; she is the lady of the house and best you remember it." The cook winced. "Who requires soup?”

“The gamekeeper, don’t he? Master Chinworth says he missed supper and suffers an attack. Likely story.”

The cranky cook continued about her work, clearly affronted at being woken from sleep. Did she not care that a member of the staff had been attacked? I left her to her duty. I had no time for foul moods.

I would check the folly for Cecily. But first, Tobias needed to know. I followed the sound of voices to the library where the gamekeeper did indeed recline upon a leather chair, a deep gash to his head, and otherwise rather pale and faint.

Tobias turned at my entry. “I’ve sent for the magistrate and the constabulary.” He paused. “Where is Cecily?”

I hastily explained. “I found a bundle of bedclothes to make it look as though she slept. She has sneaked from her room.”

“Dear God, not again. Not tonight!” He shouted. “John, stay with him and tend to his needs. I must find my sister.”

“Did he catch the man that shot at you?”

“Indeed no. I hope he is gone for Cecily’s sake.”

My blood ran cold. “Check the folly.”

“Right, of course.”

We slipped through the portico doorway and into the cold night air. Why would she venture out of doors on such a freezing night? Would she? Should not one of us be searching the house? I clenched my jaw. One step at a time. I had to trust my instinct.