Ann Lethbridge - Gabriel D'Arcy

Mooreshead shook his head. ‘It’s all right. I’ll get it. You wait here with the countess.’ He strode out of the room.

‘Walter,’ Nicky said with a beguiling smile. ‘Untie me. Please.’

He giggled, but didn’t move.

‘Walter,’ she said again, more firmly but gently. ‘He can’t possibly remove that ball from his arm. He needs my help. Untie me.’

‘I don’t take no orders from anyone but him.’ He stuck out a lip.

She sighed and let her head fall back. ‘What makes you so loyal to a man like him?’

He stared at her in puzzlement. Innocent loyalty. What would he say if he knew the truth about the man he served? Would he care? Probably not. She certainly thought better of Mooreshead for his kindness to this poor benighted man-child.

‘Tying people up is wrong, you know.’

Shadows filled his eyes. ‘I know,’ he mumbled. ‘Mam wouldn’t like it. But she said I must always do as he asks.’

‘Why?’

He frowned and stared off into the distance as if he was trying to recapture a memory, then smiled in triumph. ‘Old marquess tossed us out with not a penny in our pockets—’ he inhaled a quick breath ‘—so we must do all we can to help my lord. It’s only right.’

The words came out so fast it took a moment to make sense of them. ‘His father tossed you out?’

‘When Pa died. He...he needed the cottage for the new man.’ He frowned. ‘I don’t know the new man. My lord was very angry. I thought I was bad. He was bad. Old marquess.’

He started to look upset.

‘And so Lord Mooreshead brought you here, to his home.’

‘Lord Templeton.’

She closed her eyes. Right. He would have been Templeton while his father was alive. ‘Walter, I want to help Lord Mooreshead, but I can do nothing with my hands tied.’

He shook his head, his bottom lip protruding. ‘No one tells me what to do ’cepting milord.’

She huffed out a breath. ‘I am not telling, mon ange . I am asking. Please.’

He took a hesitant step towards the bed.

‘Leave Walter alone,’ Mooreshead said harshly from the doorway, his face as dark as a thundercloud. He had a dusty bottle tucked under his arm.

Walter shrank back.

‘It’s all right, Walter,’ Mooreshead said, gentling his tone. ‘It is her I am angry at.’

Walter glared at her. ‘Bad.’

‘Not bad,’ he said. ‘Stubborn.’

He looked at her. ‘You are right, I cannot do this by myself. Yet, to be honest. I am loath to let you free and put a knife in your hand.’

She smiled at him sweetly. ‘Quite the conundrum.’ Bah, she should not be rising to his bait. ‘Why did you bring me here, Mooreshead? What is it you want from me? If it is ransom, you are at outs. I have no one who cares enough to pay for my release.’

‘Don’t play games, Countess,’ he said setting his bottle down on the hearth. ‘Whoever you told about our assignation this morning had me shot.’

The only possibility was Paul. She shook her head. ‘It makes no sense.’

He gave her a hard look. ‘So you do not deny you told someone in addition to the members of your household. Who?’

Her heart jolted at her mistake. ‘I told no one apart from Reggie and my companion, Mrs Featherstone, about our plan.’ She gave a shrug of indifference. ‘I thought nothing of it. I ride every day in Hyde Park.’ She glanced at the window that clearly showed it was full dark outside. ‘By now she and Reggie will be worried out of their wits. They will no doubt contact the authorities. Eventually someone will think to look here.’

He regarded her for a long moment, then inhaled, his wide chest expanding, the frown between his brows deepening. Pain. She pretended not to notice.

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