“Meet at the front door.”
They parted, and Duncan waited until she’d moved away before starting for the summerhouse. It would take her longer to do her search, and he had time to take a breath and focus. Odd how danger and the rush of blood in his veins made everything clear.
For the first time in his life, he knew what he wanted. He was done with empty seductions and hopping from one woman’s bed to another’s. He wanted to love and be loved. He wanted a home and a wife and one day a family. Even as he was falling in love with Lucy, he’d known she was unlikely to be the woman who could give that to him. He’d hoped she might change her mind, might fall in love with him the more time they spent together.
But he had to accept that she wasn’t the one. Dreaming about holding her and taking surreptitious sniffs of her scent would not help him move on.
Nor would it save Johnny.
He’d put Lucy and his feelings away until they’d completed this mission, and then he and Miss Galloway would go their separate ways.
He started for the summerhouse, keeping low and stepping carefully. He came upon it from the side nearer the lodge and circled to the rear, then back around to the front. He stayed low, out of view from the windows, and waited for Lucy to appear on the other side.
She was right about the boat. It was more of a barge with several sets of oars and a canopy stretched over the back. The vessel was painted black, even the canopy, and he’d had to look hard to see it in the rainstorm. A flash of lightning lit up the churning river, and he saw the vessel rising and falling on the waves. Lucy hadn’t seen any men aboard, but they could be under the canopy, taking shelter from the storm. Would Vanderville go after Master John himself or would he bring his men?
He'd do the deed himself, Duncan decided. Vanderville had already sent Ada, and she’d failed. If he’d had hired assassins, he would have sent them already. Duncan was willing to wager the boat’s crew, at least most of it, was still aboard.
Lucy sidled beside him. “Nothing and no one. You?”
“All clear. They could be in the house.”
“I’ll go in and see.”
He grabbed her arm, holding her back. “Not so fast, Miss Impulsive. Let’s see if the curtains are drawn before you burst inside.”
“Fine.”
Duncan grinned at the sound of annoyance in her voice. If there was one thing Lucy disliked, it was caution. But she did as he suggested. He watched as she crept closer to the window of the summerhouse, found her footing beneath it, then slid upward to look inside. She slipped back down again and mimed closed curtains. Duncan tried to remember if they’d closed them when they’d last been there or left them open.
Lucy was gesturing again, and he pushed the rainwater out of his face, to see her clearly. Bloody hell. She was going in. Before he could even react, she was on her feet, had her foot aimed at the door, and kicked it open.
A loudbangsounded as she disappeared inside.
“Lucy!” Duncan cried and raced in after her.
Chapter Twenty-One
