From London With Love: Disgrace and Desire / The Captain and the Wallflower

She eyed him warily. Despite the shadows she felt his eyes burning into her.

‘What would you suggest? After all, you have done your best to murder me.’

‘That is quite your own fault!’ She struggled against him. ‘You had no right to be following me, dressed all in black like a common thief! Anyone might have mistaken you!’

She glared up at him, breathing heavily. She became aware of a subtle change in the atmosphere. Everything was still, but the air was charged with energy, like the calm before a thunderstorm. Her breathing was still ragged, but not through anger. He was straddling her, kneeling on her skirts and effectively pinning her down while his hands held her wrists. She stopped struggling and lay passively beneath him, staring at his shadowed face. He released one hand and drew a finger gently along her cheek.

‘I think we may have mistaken each other, Lady Allyngham.’

His voice deepened, the words wrapped about her like velvet. She did not move as he turned his hand and ran the back of his fingers over her throat. Eloise closed her eyes. His body was very close to her own and her nerves tingled. Her senses were heightened, she was aware of every movement, every noise in the small dark hut. She could smell him, a mixture of leather and wool and spices, she could feel his warm breath on her face. Eloise lifted her chin, but whether it was in defiance or whether she was inviting his lips to join hers she could not be sure. Her breasts tensed, her wayward body yearned for his touch.

It never came.

The spell was broken as the door burst open and Perkins’s aggrieved voice preceded him into the hut.

‘Dang me but I couldn’t find it, m’lady. Looked everywhere for that danged package but it’d gone, and nothing in its place! I think it—what the devil!’

The groom pulled up in the doorway, his eyes popping. As he looked around for some sort of weapon Jack eased himself away from Eloise and waved the pistol.

‘Perkins, isn’t it? I beg you will not try to overpower me again,’ he said pleasantly. ‘You would not succeed, you know.’

Eloise struggled to her feet.

‘I did not untie him,’ she said, feeling the groom’s accusing eyes upon her. ‘But he is not our villain. The fact that the package is gone confirms it.’

‘He might have an accomplice,’ said Perkins, unconvinced.

‘Believe me, I mean your mistress no harm,’ said Jack, standing up and dropping the pistol back into his pocket. ‘I want to help, but to do that I need to know just what is going on.’

He drew out his handkerchief and pressed it cautiously to the back of his head. Eloise saw the dark stain as he took it away again. She said quickly, ‘Yes, but not now. First we must clean up that wound.’

‘My man will do that for me when I get back to town.’

‘Then let us waste no more time.’

She clutched at his sleeve and led him outside, leaving Perkins to put out the lamp and shut the door.

‘Can you walk?’ she asked. ‘Do you need my groom to support you?’

‘No, I will manage very well with you beside me.’ She felt his weight on her arm. ‘I am not too heavy for you?’

‘I helped carry you,’ she retorted. ‘You were much heavier then.’

She heard him laugh and looked away so he would not see her own smile. She was not yet ready to admit to a truce. They continued in silence and soon the carriage lights were visible in the distance.

‘Did you ride here?’ asked Eloise.

‘Yes. My horse is tethered to a bush, close to your carriage.’

‘Give Perkins your direction and he will ride it back to the stable.’

‘And just how is he to get back?’ demanded the groom.

‘He will travel back with me in the carriage.’ Eloise bit her lip. ‘I think I owe Major Clifton an explanation.’

Jack followed Eloise into the carriage and settled himself into the corner, resting the undamaged side of his head against the thickly padded squabs. The coachman had orders to go carefully, but the carriage still rocked and jolted alarmingly as they made their way back towards town. He peered through the darkness at his fellow passenger.

‘Are you going to tell me the truth now, madam?’

There was silence. He thought he detected a faint sigh.

‘This morning I received a letter,’ she said at last, ‘asking me to put one hundred guineas under the roots of a fallen tree on Hampstead Heath. The instructions were quite explicit.’

‘And what did you expect to get for your money?’

‘The—the return of a diary. When I went into the Clevedons’ garden last night it was because I had received a note, instructing me to do so. At the base of Apollo I found a piece of paper. It was a page torn from a…a very personal diary.’ There was a pause. ‘I discovered it was missing last year, but with all the grief and confusion over Allyngham’s death, I thought it had been destroyed.’

‘I see. I take it you do not wish the contents of this journal to become public?’

‘That is correct.’ The words were barely audible.

‘And what is it you wish to keep secret, madam?’

There was an infinitesimal pause before she said coldly, ‘That you do not need to know.’

‘I do if I am to help you to recover the book.’

‘If you had not interfered tonight I might already have it back! Who knows but your untimely appearance frightened off the wretch?’

‘He was not too frightened to take your money,’ Jack retorted.

‘Well…mayhap he will return the book to me tomorrow.’

‘You are air-dreaming, Lady Allyngham. In my experience this type of rogue will keep on demanding money until he has bled you dry.’

‘No!’

‘Yes.’ He leaned forwards, saying urgently, ‘The only way to stop this man is to catch him.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘There is no perhaps about it.’ The carriage slowed and began to turn.

‘King Street,’ she said, peering out of the window. ‘We have arrived at your rooms, Major. Would you like my footman to accompany you to the door?’

‘No, thank you, I can manage that short distance.’ He stepped carefully down on to the flagway.

‘Major Clifton!’