Page 21 of Submitting to the Widow
Raj gave him a deadly stare from the corner where she’d been sitting quietly and listening to his explanation. “You must tell me first as soon as you find out who he is.”
Stephen huffed out a sigh. “How will that help?”
“I will kill whoever dared to touch my niece. I will kill him slowly and then cut out his heart.” Murray, who sat close by, silently placed a hand over the hand of the fierce warrior woman. She didn’t push him away.
* * *
Tuesday,April 25, 1826
Crescent Terrace
Bath, England
A pink light signaling dawn poured through the fan-shaped upper window in the late baron’s study when Stephen had finished a series of messages for the footman waiting outside in the front hallway. The first, which was to go out immediately, was to Henry Pullman who lived nearby with his family in a townhouse similar to Jane’s. They’d need all the help they could get to ensure her safety.
The second message was fueled by his anger over the danger Captain Goodrum had brought to him, and by association Jane, with her damnable list of revenge. He wanted to make sure Eleanor Goodrum understood what a nest of vipers she’d loosed in the deceptively quiet village of Combe Down.
When he’d finally finished with all his correspondence, he handed off the second letter with directions to have it sent by the fastest stage post possible. That would mean a week at least before the formidable Captain Goodrum in London would receive word of the danger she’d wrought. He couldn’t imagine what possible answer she’d supply to his heated message.
In the meantime, he needed to see Jane again, even if she were asleep. He needed to see for himself she was still safe. His vows to stay firmly detached in his dealings with the baroness had once again flown south toward Africa, like a bunch of yellow wagtails choosing exotic tropical warmth over the English stone cold winter.
It occurred to him he’d crossed some invisible line into uncharted territory from which there was no return. He didn’t care. He wanted the woman now sleeping in the chamber above him with a ferocity that had stolen up on him when he’d let down his guard.
11
* * *
Tuesday, April 25, 1826
Crescent Terrace
Bath, England
Jane awoke slowly with a vague sense of doom. When the events of the night before finally flooded into her memory, her previous terror turned to anger. She wanted to face her tormentor again. But this time she’d have a weapon. She’d wipe the leering smirk from his face and…a knock sounded on the door to her chamber. In spite of her determination, the sense of helplessness flooded her thoughts again, and she shrank back into the pillows Raj had brought in to prop her up while she drank her tea.
Stephen cracked the door a bit when she didn’t answer his insistent tapping. “Jane—are you all right? Has something else happened?” He frantically looked around the room as if he suspected someone had invaded the townhouse intending to harm her while he wasn’t looking.
“Stop worrying,” she pleaded. “Sit with me and have some tea.” She pointed to the steaming pot Raj had left on a table near the window just minutes before.
He took a cup and balanced gingerly on one of her dainty boudoir chairs. He frankly looked a bit like the scarecrow Raj had cobbled together to keep the birds away from the tiny vegetable garden the servants maintained in the townhouse courtyard.
“You haven’t slept.” It wasn’t a question. “Your eyes have dark circles beneath them. You never have dark circles.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He dismissed her concern.
“But you’re not fine,” she insisted. “If you don’t sleep, what will happen if that awful man comes here and tries again to force you to quit the investigation?”
He reached out and placed his palm over her hand on top of the counterpane. “In that unlikely event, the bastard will never leave this house alive. In fact, Murray would have eliminated him by now if we weren’t waiting for him to lead us to the man who hired him.”
* * *
Tuesday,April 25, 1826
Bath Circulating Library and Reading Room
Bath, England
Murray leaned back against one of the pillars at the entrance to the Bath Circulating Library and Reading Room and tipped his cap low over his forehead. He’d been deuced bewattled when the untidy vermin-like man who’d dared to hurt the baroness had left his boarding house on the outskirts of Bath. Of all the places Murray had expected to him to go, the circulating library wasn’t one of them. He expected the man to be tossed out of the fine establishment at any moment.