The Marquess Meets His Match Read online

  “No, I think my mother has planned to have the performances tomorrow evening.” She touched her napkin to her lips. “I believe Lady Beatrice and Miss Beasley will be performing as well, and I’m quite looking forward to it.”

  She looked down the table at the ladies in question. Lady Beatrice was just out of the schoolroom and still giggled a tad too loudly in company. She was speaking to the vicar's father on her right, who looked like he was fighting sleep. Miss Penelope Beasley was more forward and anxious to make a good match with a peer. Their eyes met across the table and Penelope gave her a weary smile. She was seated next to an older baron who had spoken of little besides his beloved hound dogs. Alice didn’t know her well, but was looking forward to furthering their acquaintance during the house party. The person Alice was most looking forward to spending time with, however, was her best friend Elizabeth. She couldn’t wait for her to arrive tomorrow. Elizabeth was like a sister to her and had a steadying hand Alice might need to get through the next few days.

  As they were waiting for the dessert to be brought out, Christian put down his drink and turned toward Alice and Pembroke. “So, have either of you heard any more news about the inquiry into Thomas Norwich’s death?”

  Christian asked the question so bluntly, and yet casually, that it caught Alice off-guard. She glanced at Pembroke whose face had shuttered.

  “No,” he said flatly.

  “I heard some new evidence has been found,” Christian continued. “It sounded like they’re closing in on a suspect.”

  Alice narrowed her eyes. If that was true, she would have been informed. Was he trying to scare Pembroke into revealing himself? “What new evidence would that be, my lord?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.” Christian moved his knife and fork to the side of his now-empty plate so the servants could clear it away. “But I hope there will be an arrest soon. Thomas should get the justice he deserves.”

  Pembroke took a sip of his drink before he turned to Christian. “I agree. Justice should be served and the culprit punished. I was quite sad to hear of his passing. He was so young.”

  To Alice’s ear, Pembroke sounded as sincere as he had in the garden, but Christian looked skeptical. In all of her conversations with Pembroke, he hadn’t seemed secretive or upset, but perhaps Christian knew something she didn’t. Hopefully she would get a chance to ask him later.

  All too soon, it was time for the ladies to retire to the drawing room so the men could enjoy their port. The moment the door to the parlor closed, Lady Penelope came to Alice’s side and sat down, clasping her hands in her lap.

  “How lucky you are to have been seated next to a marquess and an earl,” Penelope gushed. “Whatever did you talk about?”

  Alice raised a hand as if waving away the question. “You know how gentlemen are. They talked of horses and carriages.”

  “My mother would love to see me further my acquaintance with both gentlemen,” she said, lowering her voice. She twisted her hands and lifted her eyes to Alice’s face. “I wonder if you would introduce me to Lord Wolverton first. He's so handsome.”

  A tiny stab of jealousy pricked Alice’s heart, but she ignored it. “Of course,” she replied. “I want all of our house guests to get acquainted. And there will be plenty of time throughout the next few days to converse and be partners with everyone at the party.” They chatted about some of the fun activities the duchess had planned.

  “I’m so glad the evening entertainments will include charades,” Penelope said, biting her lip. “I’m especially good at it.”

  Alice smiled at her, glad that there was something for Penelope to look forward to. At that moment, the door opened, and the men joined them. Christian’s eyes met hers, and an awareness arced between them as he started toward her. He looked so determined and handsome that her heart skipped a beat, and butterflies took flight in her middle. When had she allowed herself to indulge in an attraction to Christian Wolverton?

  Her father stopped Christian before he could reach her, and soon they were in deep conversation. She should have been curious about what they were discussing, but instead she felt overheated. Deciding she needed a moment to collect herself, she stood and opened the balcony door so she could slip out. Gulping air as if she’d been swimming underwater, she leaned against the wall, enjoying the coolness of the stone against her back.

  She wasn’t alone for long. The door clicked open, and two sets of footsteps sounded on the stone, with the unmistakable scent of bergamot and mint wafting to her. Her father and Christian.

  Straightening, she waited for them to turn toward her. “What’s going on?" she asked. “Has something happened?”

  “I had three peers in mind that had the means and access to that list, but two have alibis. That narrows the field considerably― to Lord Pembroke.” Her father clasped his hands behind his back and gave Alice a pointed look. “Our agents are in place, watching for any other noblemen in Kent, as well as keeping our family and guests safe. I would still prefer that you and your mother not go anywhere unescorted, even on the grounds. We’ll hold the masquerade ball as planned to lull him into false security that he could pass the list to his buyer anonymously there. If Pembroke is the traitor, we’ll be ready for him. And hopefully catch the French buyer, as well.” Her father turned to Christian. “I'd like to see you in my study after breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” Christian looked between them. “Do you plan to go on with the house party as if there were nothing amiss?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to spook Pembroke. The buy must go on as planned.” The duke touched Alice’s shoulder. “It’s risky, I know.”

  She gave him a reassuring smile. “With so many lives at stake, it can’t be helped. Are there any other suspects to be considered?”

  “Not right now, but if you have evidence of Pembroke’s innocence, I’m eager to hear it."

  She shook her head. There wasn't anything concrete yet.

  Her father gave her a nod. “I’m going to join your mother. Don’t be long.” Her father kissed her forehead and went back inside.

  Alice watched Christian go to the railing and look out over the gardens. What was he thinking? As if he could hear her thoughts, he turned to face her. His gaze lingered on her face. “Are you well?”

  “I’m fine, my lord. I just needed a bit of air.” She moved toward him, feeling a strange pull to be closer. He was quiet and contemplative this evening. She stood next to him, her skirt brushing his ankle. They both seemed to be looking at her favorite bench near the entryway of the maze garden. Had it only been a few hours ago that Christian had found her there with Pembroke?

  The silence was comfortable, and the breeze was teasing her senses with the last scents of summer―scythed grass mixed with the fragrances of the garden. Alice closed her eyes, the familiar smells made new by the unfamiliar man standing beside her.

  His voice broke through her thoughts. “Please, call me Christian.”

  She didn’t turn. The thought of calling him by his given name was tantalizing. It would be highly improper, but she wanted to. Did she dare?

  “Alice.” His voice was gravelly. Compelling. It was easy to imagine him as a commander of an army, used to being obeyed.

  “Yes?” She turned toward him, unable to resist admiring his evening attire. The blue waistcoat accented his eyes, making them appear to be the deep-blue of the sky right before it submits to the darkness of night.

  His hand hovered over her upper arm, but didn’t make contact. “I want you to know you can trust me.”

  His voice, deep and mesmerizing, made her think he was talking about something more than the business with Pembroke. Could he feel a connection to her like she did to him? “What do you mean?” She looked up into his face, and her eyes fell on those scars. Her hand lifted to touch one.

  “Tell me what Pembroke has confided in you.” His voice was still low, but he might as well have shouted, as his words jarred her senses.r />
  The pull she’d felt toward him earlier snapped. That’s what this was about, charming her so she would give him information. Oh, she’d heard the stories of him and his reputation for getting information. Now she’d experienced his power of influence for herself. She stepped back. What was she thinking, letting his appeal cloud her judgment?

  “Despite what you and my father say, I spoke to David in the garden, and I don't think he's Thomas's killer or our traitor." Putting her hands around her middle, she turned toward the railing, breaking the spell of his gaze.

  “You call Pembroke by his given name now? Were you swayed by his handsome face?” He was at her back now, his mouth near her ear. Oh, how close he was to the truth. But it wasn't David Pembroke’s handsome face she'd been swayed by.

  “I am quite skilled at spotting a liar,” she told him. “I believe he is telling the truth.”

  “Did he tell you that he wasn’t allowed to serve in the war because he was the sole heir to the earldom? And that he was turned down for intelligence work? There’s a good chance he's lashing out at those who were accepted into both the military and intelligence.” He touched her shoulder and gently pressed her to face him. “The other two men your father suspected have alibis. We’re almost sure it's Pembroke. Who else could it be?”

  She looked up into his face, his blue eyes unfathomable, filled with so many secrets he’d known and kept. “The exchange is in two days. Our only recourse is to stick close to him and prove his guilt or innocence, as well as look for any other possible suspects.”

  “Then the masquerade will be a day of reckoning for all of us.” He leaned away from her, and she heard him sniff. “Do you smell that?’

  Alice sniffed as well. She pushed past him and leaned over the railing. Smoke curled into the sky, and men were beginning to shout.

  “The stables are on fire. We’ve got to get the horses out. Now.”

  Chapter Six

  CHRISTIAN WIPED THE soot out of his eyes, his once-white lawn shirt now blackened and gray. Luckily, the stable hands and groomsmen had leapt into action, and most of the stable fire had been contained to the tack room―a near miracle. It would be much easier for the duke to replace equipment than a valuable animal.

  Walking back toward the drive, Christian looked around the lawn at the servants, family members, and guests who had gathered to watch. He found a cluster of maids surrounding the duchess and several houseguests, but when Christian's gaze searched the faces, Alice's wasn't among them. His stomach dropped. She hadn't gone near the stables, had she?

  Turning on his heel, he strode back toward the smoldering side of the stables. Groomsmen still poured buckets of water on the structure. Alice wasn't there. Could the fire have been a distraction to spirit her away? Or worse?

  Turning in frustration and worry, he finally saw a lone woman a short distance away, her figure familiar. Her arms were folded as she stared at the burned section of the stables. He started toward her, relieved she was safe.

  When he reached her side, she looked up at him, not with sadness, as he’d expected, but calm determination. "This isn't a coincidence."

  "No, it isn't." He stood next to her and they watched the last embers sizzling as the servants poured water over the wood.

  "We're lucky we didn’t lose any servants or horses. We very nearly did." She dropped her arms to her side and started walking back toward the house. “I need to find my father.”

  “He was directing the water brigade on the south side of the stables so no embers will burst into flame there.” He easily kept pace with her. “Do you have a theory as to who might be behind this?”

  “Possibly.” She glanced over at him and briefly pursed her lips. “But I need more facts.”

  They reached the graveled drive that led to the house when the Duke of Huntingdon approached them. His own coat was smudged with soot and his brow was drawn down in concern. "Pearce saw a man running away from the stables just before the fire broke out. He ran him down, and there was a scuffle. Pearce was stabbed, and the suspected arsonist ran in the direction of the village."

  Christian’s pulse picked up at the mention of Pearce. “How bad is Pearce’s injury? Will he recover?”

  “I’m not sure. My personal physician has been called.” The duke’s face was grim. “We’re going after the man responsible. Would you care to find a mount and join us?”

  “Yes,” both Christian and Alice replied simultaneously. Christian was surprised by her answer. Surely the duke wouldn’t let her accompany them. Yet when he turned toward the paddock where the horses had been moved, she did as well. He put his hand on her arm. “Perhaps you should stay here and oversee Pearce’s care. It’s nearing dark, my lady.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she frowned. "And darkness or daylight, I know this land far better than you, my lord." She faced him with a stubborn set to her jaw.

  “Enough!” the duke said from their right, his voice like a crack of gunfire. His hand sliced through the air. “We'll need Alice's ability as a guide and Wolverton's as a tracker. Both of you get a horse saddled. We'll leave immediately.”

  Christian shook his head, but didn’t say more. He offered an arm to escort her to the paddock, but she brushed by without a second glance. Wryly, he followed.

  Several grooms had their hands full trying to calm the horses, who were stamping and nervous, though the groomsmen were able to get two horses saddled with tack that had been saved from the fire. Alice kept her arms folded, staring past the stables toward the edges of her family’s property. Her evening dress was still mostly presentable, though she wasn’t wearing her gloves. She looked ready to sit down to dinner. Instead, she was getting ready to ride out after the man who had stabbed Pearce.

  Christian didn't mind the lack of conversation. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about Alice's status with the Falcon Group, and he was organizing his own thoughts about what the arson meant. In the last seventy-two hours, an agent had been killed, an attempt made on his or Alice’s life, arson, and now an agent had been stabbed. Was the traitor trying to kill agents on the list before he sold their names to the French? Or distract them from the exchange? And it hadn’t escaped his attention that Pembroke had been present at every incident. Though Christian could only assume he was still at the house, since he hadn’t seen Pembroke on the grounds or near those putting out the fire. Where was he really? Was he the suspected arsonist running toward the village?

  When Christian and Alice were both mounted and ready, the duke and several grooms on horseback motioned for them to turn toward the east side of the estate. “We'll search in pairs," the duke announced. "Fire one shot into the air if you find the blackguard.”

  Christian instinctively maneuvered his horse close to Alice's, and she didn't seem to mind. They broke off from the group, which was fanning out on the edges of the property that led to the village and headed toward the center of a wooded area. The last vestiges of light were quickly fading, and they didn’t have much time before blackness would envelop them.

  Christian followed Alice's horse as they galloped to the wood. Slowing, they picked their way over fallen logs and around tree limbs, cautiously moving forward until they came to a small clearing. Alice slid off her horse, and Christian did the same. He immediately saw several low-hanging branches that had been bent. A tell-tale sign showing someone had been through here. He leaned over to look at them.

  "What do you see?" she asked, her voice low.

  He pulled a branch forward to show her. "It's freshly broken. Someone has passed this way recently." He tied his horse's reins to the more sturdy branches on the other side and reached for Alice’s horse to tie hers as well.

  Christian peered around the clearing. The man could be hiding anywhere in this wood or gone on his way to the village. “Let’s see if we can pick up his trail.”

  He walked forward, looking for any tracks or signs that someone had run by. Nothing. Alice had moved a dozen steps to his right, both of them
on alert for any hint of the intruder. The deeper they went into the trees, the darker it became.

  He turned to suggest that they go back to the horses, when he saw a man dressed in dark clothing appear out of the trees, running straight toward Alice. He was hardly more than a shadowy blur. Christian bolted toward them, but he was too late. The assailant tackled her, rolling with her to the ground. The darkness of the foliage and shrubbery seemed to swallow them up, and Christian felt like a blind man stumbling about as he tried to find them.

  "Alice!" he shouted.

  He heard her cry out and then a man’s choking roar. Heading toward the sounds, he saw a shadow crashing through the forest in front of him. The man was getting away, but all Christian could think of was Alice. He rushed to her side, where she was crouched near a tree stump, holding her stomach.

  "Are you hurt?" He pulled her to him, pushing her hair away from her face. "Alice?"

  "I'm well," she said automatically, but her voice was shaky. He gently took her by the shoulders to look over her person and felt stickiness on his hands. Blood. As his eyes adjusted, he could see dark stains all over the front of her dress.

  "You're bleeding," he said, his heart hammering in his chest. He needed to get her to a doctor immediately. He froze, wanting to sweep her onto his horse and ride hard back to the house, but his innate sense of direction had disappeared. He wasn’t sure where to find his horse.

  "No, the blood isn’t mine," she said, looking down at her clothing. "He had a knife, but when he raised it, I was able to twist around and then . . . " She took a deep breath. "I stabbed him. It's his blood," she finally said.

  Relief flooded Christian. He stopped resisting his instincts and bent to pick her up, needing to hold her for a moment and reassure himself that she was well. “We'll talk more when we get back to the estate.”

  She put her hand up to stop him. "I’m perfectly capable of walking," she protested. He set her down as requested, but when her foot touched the ground, she cried out.