Читать книгу His Wicked Charm - Candace Camp - Страница 15

CHAPTER SIX

NOT WAITING FOR HIM, Lilah scrambled down from the high seat on the other side, setting her foot on the front wheel, then jumping to the ground. She hurried after the woman, and a moment later, Con caught up with her. “Are you certain?”

She gave him an impatient glance. “Olivia was wearing it the other day. I remember because I particularly liked it. Besides, look at that woman. Does she look like that scarf belongs to her?”

The woman’s clothes were worn and drab, her straw hat battered, but around her neck was draped a lovely red silk scarf.

“Ma’am.” Con broke into a trot. “Wait. Just a moment.”

The woman looked back over her shoulder and, seeing them, whirled around to run. She hadn’t gone three steps before Con pulled her to a stop.

“I din’t do nuffink. I din’t steal it. It’s mine.”

“Calm down. I’m not accusing you of anything.”

She tried to tug her arm from his grasp, clearly not believing him.

“Con, you’re scaring her.” Lilah laid a soothing hand on the woman’s shoulder. “We aren’t going to hurt you. All we want is information.”

“Yes, sorry.” Con eased his hold, though he did not release her. “I’m not trying to take your scarf from you. You can keep it. Just tell me where you got it.”

“I din’t steal it.”

“I believe you. You found it, didn’t you?”

“’Twas just lying there. It din’t belong to nobody.”

“Where was it lying? Can you show me where you found it?”

She pointed back up the street. “Down there. It caught on the lamppost, see.”

“Excellent.” Con beamed and reached into his pocket for a coin. “Here’s something for your information.”

“Gor!” Her eyes widened as she snatched the coin from his hand. “Thankee, sir.”

“Now, tell me, did you see where the scarf came from? You said it caught on the lamppost. Did you see it land there?”

No longer reluctant, she started to answer, then sighed and admitted, “No. It was just there at the bottom of the post. Nell went for it, but I got there first. An’ we had a bit of scrap about it, an’ I won. I saw it ’fore she did.”

“How long ago was that? Since you found the scarf.”

“Oh. Well…” She wrinkled her forehead in thought. “A while. I went in to get a little tipple, you see, ’cause of my luck. And then, um, I went down to Annie’s to show her. A while.”

“Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.” Con smiled and swept her an elegant bow, which made the woman giggle and bob a curtsy back to him. Obviously Con was an expert at charming any woman.

It took only a few minutes of questioning the shopkeepers along the street before Con found one who remembered the black vehicle.

“Oh, aye, I saw it. Ugly thing, don’t know why you’d want to paint your wagon black like that. Better something cheerful, I say. And why not a sign on it?”

“Did you hear anything?”

He looked puzzled. “It made a racket on the cobblestones, if that’s what you mean. So loud I couldn’t hear my customer. That’s why I noticed it.”

“How long ago was it?”

“Oh, some time now. An hour or two. Wait, I remember, it was just ’fore I ate. Around noon.”

Con’s eyes gleamed as he took Lilah’s arm, propelling her back to the carriage. She could almost feel the renewed energy and hope surging in him.

“I knew it!” he said as they started forward again. “I knew they would find a way to help me.”

“They’ll have to divest themselves of a lot of garments to leave a good trail.”

“There are four of them after all.” He tossed a grin at her.

“It was very smart to do that.”

“The family’s had some experience,” he said drily.

They kept a sharp eye on the street, hoping for another sign from the Moreland women. Every time they spied a possibility, Con would jump down to investigate, but none of the objects turned out to be anything belonging to Con’s sisters. The problem was that any piece of clothing dropped on the street was likely to be picked up before Lilah and Con could find it. And how long could the ladies keep tossing out clues before one of their captors caught them?

The traffic and houses thinned out, which at least made it more likely that a discarded item might not be picked up immediately. Con spotted the next item, a crumpled straw bonnet that he thought might belong to Thisbe. “It’s plain as she likes them.”

Con fretted about the time as they continued at their slow pace. The sun had been growing steadily lower. Lilah decided it was best not to ask what they would do after darkness fell. Next they found a woman’s jacket.

Lilah held it up, studying it. “It’s very stylish.”

“Kyria’s then.”

After a time, they came upon a handkerchief caught in a hedge. “Definitely Kyria’s.” Con spread it out on his knee. “See the monogram?”

Heartened by their finds, they pressed onward, passing fewer and fewer travelers. Whenever they came upon a slow cart or carriage, Con stopped to ask if the driver had seen the wagon they sought. One farm boy, walking placidly beside his ox-drawn cart, nodded, saying it had passed him not long out of the city.

“We’re falling farther and farther behind,” Con said grimly. “But I don’t dare go faster or we might miss one of their clues.”

After a while, Con stirred restlessly, looking around. “I’m not sure…”

“What is it?” Lilah half turned, putting her hand on his arm.

Con glanced at her, startled, and Lilah quickly withdrew her hand. “I think we may be going wrong.” He twisted around to look behind him. “It’s been a while since we’ve found anything.” He pulled to a stop. “We crossed a road back there.”

“You think we should have taken it?”

“I don’t know. But at some point, they’re going to turn off. I doubt that cottage is on the main road. And… this feels wrong.”

He turned the carriage, a cumbersome process, and headed back. When they reached the intersection, he turned left down the smaller road.

“Couldn’t they have turned the other way?”

“Yes. If they turned at all. I’ll try the other way next if—look.” A white petticoat lay in the muddy ditch. “They threw it out as soon as they turned. Clever girls.”

“We’re gathering quite a collection.”

“We’re getting closer, I think, but it’s taking too long.” He cast a look at the gathering twilight around them and increased the pace.

Lilah spotted a white handkerchief at the juncture of a smaller lane. “Do you think she meant to stay on this road or turn?”

“It’s ambiguous,” Con agreed. “She could have tossed it out from either direction and it floated back here. I’m going to take the turn. Megan said the windows were high. I don’t think they could see the road. They wouldn’t know that the road turned off until they felt the wagon do so.”

The overhang of trees turned the dusk into night. Lilah leaned forward, peering intently ahead. The carriage jarred as it passed over a rut, and she braced herself with a hand on Con’s leg. Embarrassed, she straightened up quickly, glancing at Con. But he appeared not to even notice the inappropriately familiar touch as he stared, eyes narrowed, at a hedge-lined path.

“I think…I’m going to try this lane.”

“It’s more a track than a lane. Why do you think this is the way to go? Did you see something?”

“Not really. It’s very nearly dark.”

Very nearly? Lilah could barely even make out that there was a path. It was even darker along the lane, with the high encroaching hedges on either side. “Why do you think it’s this way?”

“I’m not sure. This nearly hidden path made me think about what Anna said about it being secluded.”

There was no point in getting into another discussion about the unreliability of Anna’s “vision,” so Lilah kept silent. It was fully night now; the moon was rising. Fortunately it was a full moon. The hedges ended, and the lane curved around a tree. Lilah could make out a dark shape ahead of them.

The night was hushed, the only sound the plodding of the horses’ hooves and the carriage wheels turning, and even that was muffled by the dirt surface of the path. Neither Lilah nor Con spoke. The dark shape ahead resolved itself into a two-story cottage, a simple building of light-colored stone.

Lilah drew in her breath sharply, unconsciously grabbing Con’s arm. A shutter hung askew beside a window, and a large tree stood not far from the house. In the other direction, Lilah could make out a small structure of some sort. Con looked at Lilah, then pointed to a large tree stump a few feet ahead of them.

It was exactly as Anna had described. A shiver ran through Lilah.

If they needed further proof, a dark wagon stood near the stump, with a pair of tethered horses grazing nearby. Con climbed down and took his horses by the head, walking them around so that the carriage faced the opposite direction.

As Lilah joined him, he murmured in explanation, “In case we need to make a quick escape.”

“Then you plan to confront them?” she whispered back.

“There were only three men.”

“And only one you,” she retorted. “That’s if they don’t have accomplices who’ve joined them.”

Con tilted his head, considering. “Still, I have the advantage of surprise, and my mother and sisters will help.” His grin gleamed in the darkness. “You should see my mother brandish a cricket bat.”

He reached up to pull the long carriage whip from its holder. “Unwieldy.” He unscrewed the handle from the long supple stick and leather lash, leaving him with a sturdy truncheon capped by an ornamental brass knob. He turned to her. “Stay here. If things go wrong, run. They won’t expect anyone else to be here.”

“I’m going with you.”

“What?” His eyebrows flew up. “You said you’d go for help if needed.”

“No. I said I could go for help.”

“Blast it!” he hissed. “You’ll get in my way. I’ll have to worry about protecting you. Stay. Here.”

“You said your mother and sisters would be a help to you.” Lilah grabbed the longer, narrow end of the whip that ended in a leather lash, and faced him defiantly. “Are you going to tell me I am less capable than they?”

“Not when you’ve got that whip in your hand.” Con started for the house. Lilah followed, her heart pounding. She stumbled over a root, nearly falling. Con swung around, and Lilah braced for a caustic remark, but to her surprise, he took her hand and leaned in to whisper, “Stay with me. I have good night vision.”

“Of course you do,” she replied waspishly, resenting the way the touch of his breath on her ear sent a shiver through her. This was no time to be thinking about things like that—or feeling that tremble of heat deep inside her.

Holding the front of her skirt off the ground with one hand, she went with him, surprised at how natural it was, how easy, to walk with him, shoulders almost touching, his fingers laced through hers. It made her feel faintly breathless—the warmth of him, the touch of his skin on hers—but somehow it steadied her, as well. She couldn’t count on him to be appropriate in a drawing room or ballroom, but here, in a situation like this, she trusted him completely.

They skirted the edges of the yard, staying close to the shadows of trees and shrubs. Their care was probably unnecessary, for the front rooms of the house looked dark, but Con was clearly taking no chances. He edged up to the front window. “Nothing.”

They slipped around the side. Light spilled from a window in a rear room. Con flattened himself against the wall and inched over, turning his head to peek inside. Pulling back, he whispered, “Two men at the kitchen table, playing dice.”

“What’s your plan?” she whispered back.

“Open the door and knock them in the head.”

Before Lilah could point out that this was not much of a plan, he crouched down beneath the window and moved to the door. Lilah did her best to imitate him. It would be far easier if she weren’t wearing a corset. As she stood up, Con took hold of the doorknob and slowly, silently turned it. The handle moved freely. Con raised his cudgel, knob end up, and looked questioningly at Lilah.

She nodded and took a firm grip on her whip. She’d never hit anyone with a stick before, but she was sure she could do it. In fact, she was rather looking forward to it.

Before Con could move, there was an explosion inside the house. Letting out an oath, Con flung open the door and charged inside.