When his eyes finally flashed recognition, she wished she knew whom he’d been expecting.
“Oh, it’s you.”
“I’m sorry I’m not the one you wished to see, but something has happened we thought you should know.”
Dark shadows beneath his eyes gave away his lack of sleep. He stepped outside his door, pushed her behind him, and looked both ways down the hall before snatching her back inside and closing the door.
Once inside, he pinioned both of her arms to her sides and held her against the door. “Pray tell what brings you out taunting the fates this night. I’ve spent hours chasing miscreants through the woods, making endless explanations to Sir Thomas’s servants, and now the object of all our guarding and thrashing about decides to take a late-night jaunt through the house.”
Sophie dared not breathe throughout his impassioned speech. She could feel his hands tremble where he held her shoulders, and after all the two of them had been through, she could not recall a time when he’d lost control.
She carefully raised her hands to cover his. “I am truly sorry to have caused you and your men so much work and worry. All you tried to do was the right thing, and now you’re stuck in this web of intrigue and deceit along with me.” When she touched him, his tension seemed to subside a little. “Someone came to our door tonight and tried to get us to let him in. Lydia thinks she recognized the voice, even though he spoke very fast and low. She believes it was Teddy.”
“You didn’t let him in…”
She shook her head. “Of course not. Neither one of us trusts him, but we can’t understand why he would come here all the way from Wales after Lord Howick banished him. And how did Teddy know where we would be?”
“Someone led my men on a wild chase near the far north garden tonight. I joined them until I realized that’s exactly what they wanted. Of course, they expected you and Lydia to let Teddy in, so they could do whatever it is they’ve been plotting for weeks.” Arnaud let go of Sophie and began to pace the small dormer room he’d been assigned. “Is there anyone from your time with your father who might have had a reason to wish you harm?”
“Hardly. A group of lovely, drunken writers, artists, and actors? Not a one of them would have the means to carry out such a complex plot, pay informers…” she trailed off. “Every penny they made went into wine and entertainment. They had trouble planning as far ahead as their next meal.”
“Then the one we seek has a much coarser aim.”
“What are you going to do now?”
Arnaud tucked her arm into his and accompanied her into the hallway back toward her chamber. “I’m not going to let you out of my sight until we get back to Howick House.”
Arnaud almost abandoned his own principled refusal not to make Sophie his wife. Almost. Earlier that evening he’d been as close to terrified for another human being as he’d ever been in his life. Chasing after faceless demons in the north garden had nearly undone him. And to think that idiot Seaton had been at Sophie and Lydia’s very chamber door demanding entrance while he and his men were haring off in search of threats meant only to lead them away.
Now that he held her next to him, he didn’t want to let go. He had the irrational conviction that nothing could happen to her as long as he could keep her close. Folly. That kind of thinking was folly. If someone truly wanted to harm her, what would happen when he had to return to his squadron? He knew he could count on Lord Howick and his men as well as the tough warehouse guards on his mother’s staff, but they wouldn’t care for her the way he could. Zeus! He had to rein in his wandering mind already rattled by a night full of nonsense.
When her door loomed ahead in the short arc of light of Sophie’s lantern, he let out a deep breath full of tension he didn’t realize he’d been holding. At Sophie’s three short taps, Lydia whisked the door open. The stern face next to Lydia’s was a shock even though he realized the man had good reason to be there after all they’d been through that night.
“Good evening, Captain.” Neville’s broad shoulders filled the doorway behind Lydia.
“Seems we’re all in a bit of a precarious situation tonight,” Arnaud said.
In the dark hallway behind him, Lord Howick’s deep voice echoed in the darkness. “Indeed you are.” His hand grasped Arnaud’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I understand fully why the two of you are here in the middle of the night in my daughter and Miss Brancelli’s chamber. Let us make sure no one else has to strain their own comprehension of why we’re all here.”
From behind Lord Howick, Mrs. Withers glided into view in a long, deep blue velvet dressing gown. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation inside,” she said, pulling shut the heavy door behind her and shepherding what had become a veritable crowd further into the bed chamber.
Captain Neville was the first to break the silence. “I came as soon as we realized the diversion in the north garden was probably a ruse. I was afraid someone might have circled back to Lydia and Miss Brancelli’s chamber. I…I’d been here only a few minutes when Captain Bellingham joined us with Miss Brancelli.
Since Miss Howick was uncharacteristically quiet, Arnaud hoped, by all that was holy, his stoic marine captain had not fallen under the spell of her wide, blue eyes. The deep pools of seeming innocence tended to pull in unsuspecting souls.
“The most important thing,” Mrs. Withers interrupted, “is that everyone survived the night’s events unscathed.”
A sharp knock startled everyone into silence.
Arnaud jerked the door open so quickly, Sir Thomas and Viscount Rumsford, both fully dressed in riding clothes, nearly fell forward into the room.
“Ah, so this is where all my guests ended up after dinner and Mrs. Withers’s entertaining monologues.” Sir Thomas’s infectious grin greeted everyone crowded into Lydia and Sophie’s chamber. “When my majordomo advised there had been a disturbance in the north garden, we decided to investigate and see if everyone was all right.”
Arnaud noted with approval both men had arrived armed with pistols.
Howick stepped forward. “Thank you for your concern. We’ve been on guard for some time, as you well know. Captain Bellingham and his men were in the garden and chased off the trouble makers, but my cousin, Seaton, must have returned from Wales to cause mischief with my daughter and Miss Brancelli. Fortunately, they barred the door and then called for help.
“Oh,” Viscount Rumsford said. “That must be the fellow Thomas’s valet tackled in the garden.”
