Disgrace and Desire

‘He may be a villain but I am not,’ declared Eloise angrily. ‘Now take his shoulders again and help me get him into that shelter!’

It was a struggle but eventually they managed to get their unwieldy burden into the shepherd’s hut. Perkins spotted an oil lamp hanging from the roof and pulled out his tinder box to light it. Eloise, very warm after her exertions, threw off her cloak before picking up a piece of twine to bind the major’s hands behind his back. Not a moment too soon, for even as she finished tying the knot Jack groaned.

‘Quickly, now, help me to sit him up.’

‘If I was you I’d leave him on the floor, where ’e belongs,’ opined Perkins, but she overruled him: she did not like to think of any creature bound and helpless at her feet.

They propped him up against a pile of sacks in one corner and Eloise stood back, watching as the major slowly raised his head.

‘Where am I?’

‘There is no point in struggling,’ she said, trying to sound fierce. ‘You are my prisoner.’

‘The devil I am!’

‘You keep a civil tongue when speakin’ to my lady,’ growled the groom.

‘That is enough, Perkins.’ Eloise turned back to Jack. ‘Where is the journal?’

‘What journal?’

‘The diary. Where is it?’

‘I have no idea what you mean.’

Her eyes narrowed.

‘What were you doing on the heath?’

Jack looked up at her from under his black brows. The feeble lamplight threw dark shadows across his face and she could not see his eyes.

‘I was following you. What were you doing?’

‘That is nothing to do with you. I—’ She stopped, her eyes widening. She turned to her groom, saying urgently, ‘The package! Run back to the tree, quickly, and collect it.’

Perkins hesitated.

‘I don’t like to leave you alone with ’im, m’lady.’

‘His hands are bound, he cannot hurt me. But leave me the pistol, if you like, only go and collect that package!’

As the groom let himself out of the hut she weighed the pistol in her hand.

‘If that is mine I would advise you to keep your fingers away from the trigger, it is very light.’ She glanced up to find Jack watching her. ‘I would guess you had never used one of those.’

She shrugged.

‘It should not be difficult, at this range.’

‘Not at all, if you think you can kill a man.’

She glared at him.

‘I can and will, if you give me cause!’

A derisive smile curved his mouth and she looked away.

‘Who tied my hands?’

‘I did.’

‘And how did I get in here?’

‘We carried you.’

‘We?’

‘Yes.’ She flushed, saying angrily, ‘It is you who should be answering questions, not I.’

‘Then you had best ask me something.’

She was silent, and after a moment he said wearily, ‘I wish you would sit down. Since I cannot stand it is very impolite of you to put me at such a disadvantage.’

Eloise was suspicious, but she could read nothing from his countenance, save a certain irritation. She glanced around. There was a small stool in one corner and she pulled it forwards, dusted it off and sat down. He smiled.

‘Thank you. Now, what did you want to ask me?’

‘Why were you following me?’

He leaned back, wincing a little as his head touched the sacking piled behind him.

‘I saw you coming out of Coutts’s this morning. When you denied it so fiercely at the Renwicks’ party I became suspicious.’

‘Oh? And just what did you suspect?’

‘I don’t know: that you had run out of money, perhaps.’

‘I am not so irresponsible!’ she flashed, annoyed.

He ignored her interruption.

‘I followed you through Hampstead,’ he continued, watching her carefully. ‘It occurred to me that perhaps someone has a hold on you. This journal that you talked of: are you trying to buy it back?’

‘That is none of your business!’

‘I have a cracked skull that says it is my business,’ he retorted. ‘By the bye, is my head bleeding?’

She looked up, alarmed.