Page 5 of Tempting a Lonely Lord (The Rakes of Mayhem #6)

He’d have to ask Harriett about it when she and Lucas arrived.

The duchess could surely shed some light on that.

In the meantime, he’d do the best he could to locate who the trapper was, or if there were others.

He’d given the trap to his newly hired groundskeeper, who assured him he would find out who had made the trap or where it had been purchased.

Like his footman and butler, his groundskeeper worked both for the Crown and William.

No one else was aware of the dual employment outside of those four.

A half-hour later, he found Mr. Pickens in the garden. “Were you able to tell anything from the trap?” he asked.

Mr. Pickens stood. “Your lordship. I didn’t identify the person, but I may have found out where they were purchased. The local blacksmith, Mr. Embers. I tried to find him while I was in town, but he was not at the smithy. His wife said he’d gone to a neighboring village for supplies.”

“That’s good information. Do you think he’ll give you the name?” William asked.

“Depends, my lord. I know the smithy. If the person who ordered the traps didn’t want his name given and threatened him to keep that quiet, or wore a disguise, then no.”

“Thank you for looking into it, Pickens. Perhaps I will give the local farrier a visit,” William said. He certainly wasn’t above passing a coin or two to discover the origin of the traps.

Pickens gave a small bow before continuing to prune the rosebushes. “I’ll have these gardens in shape for spring soon, sir.”

“You’ve made a significant change in the few days we’ve been here. Carry on, Mr. Pickens.”

An hour later, William returned to his study to make some notes.

He had located two more traps—one had been sprung, but the animal had managed to escape.

He’d sprung the other. A betting man would put money on there being more traps, he thought angrily.

He’d speak to Harlow and Pickens about organizing a small posse of footmen and stable hands to scour the rest of the land. He wanted the traps removed.

Curiously, each trap was close to where he had found the first one—near the edge of the cliff, where he had helped Lady Bella Connolly. William also planned to set up security around the perimeter of his property. He wanted to know who was placing the traps… and why.

Harlow tapped on the door and entered, holding a tin of lemon bars.

“I promised to make sure you had this before you left. I believe this will be perfect for your invitation to tea, my lord. It rivals any container of sweets the emporium in town could offer and looks as good as anything I saw in London.”

“That should work out quite well. By the way, I mentioned discovering an iron trap yesterday while walking the property. Today, I found two more. One had already been sprung—thankfully, nothing seemed to have been caught. The other, I triggered with a rock. Please assemble a small group of men—including Pickens and several footmen, men you believe would do a thorough job—and have them walk the entire property. We need to locate any remaining traps and get rid of them. They are dangerous.”

“I’ll be happy to do that, my lord,” Harlow replied. “I’ll do so right away.”

“And tell the men not to discuss it with anyone. I mean it. I don’t want to alert the person who set the traps or anyone working with him—just in case they’re from around here or the village. I’d prefer we smoke him out and confront him.”

“I understand, my lord. We will mobilize and check the land,” Harlow said.

“The land surrounding the manor first,” William added.

“Of course, my lord.” With that, Harlow left.

William settled back in his desk chair and spun around to the large window behind his desk.

His little brother would want to go riding, or at the very least, learn how to ride.

He could think of so many reasons to discover who had set these traps and make sure they never set another on his property.

They were ghoulish creations, designed to maim and torture.

Closing his eyes, he summoned the vivid image of Lady Connolly—an apparition he had deliberately avoided all afternoon by immersing himself in work.

He could still feel the cold grip of fear that had washed over him the moment he saw her dangling from the protruding roots of the cliff.

And he felt a surge of gratitude for the narrow ledge that had provided her a lifeline.

Somehow, she had managed to grip those roots, breaking her fall.

He could only imagine the fear and was thankful for the ledge; otherwise, he didn’t know how he would have saved her in time to prevent disaster.

A smile crept onto his face as he thought about her spirit.

Once she had regained her composure, shaken but unbroken, she displayed remarkable calm.

Instead of dwelling on the harrowing experience, she’d expressed her gratitude and invited him to tea.

Even as he escorted her home, her demeanor had been sweet and shy, but with good humor in the depths of her luminous green eyes; there had been no dramatic outbursts.

Exactly the opposite of what he had experienced at ton events he had attended since attaining his title.

Damn it, man, stop thinking about her as if you intend to court her. You have far too many matters to attend to without getting sidetracked by the lovely Bella Connolly .

The door to his study opened and Harlow stepped inside.

William heard a little boy shouting and running down the hall.

A second later, Michael came bounding into the room.

“Will, I’m heeere!” the small boy said, leaping into William’s outstretched arms and throwing his small arms around his big brother.

William laughed. “Yes, I can see that. Welcome home, Michael. Welcome home!” he said, hugging his little brother and kissing him on the head.

~*~