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“What…? Oh, no, I just went for a walk outside.” Coralee hadn’t discovered a thing, except that Grayson Forsythe had a very worrisome effect on her.
She turned so that Allison could work the buttons at the back of her gown. “The earl was there. He didn’t go to supper with Rebecca and his brother.”
Allison’s head snapped up. “You spoke to him out in the garden?”
“Why, yes.”
“That is the second time you’ve met him. What is he like?”
Corrie bit her lip. How to describe the earl? “He is…the earl is a most unusual man. Besides being handsome in the extreme, there is something about him…. I cannot quite grasp what it is. He is very intense and has a decided air of mystery about him.”
Allison helped her out of her dress and tossed it onto the bed. “Do you think he might commit murder?”
A shiver ran through her. “I am not sure. But he is a big man and clearly strong enough to accomplish such a feat if he wished. He is a man of the world, and certainly the sort to attract a woman. I’ll need to investigate him further, and of course, we must find some proof that he and Laurel were involved.”
Allison began to loosen the strings of her corset and Corrie drew in a welcome breath.
“You are just arrived,” her companion said. “In time, you will find out the truth.”
“I certainly hope so.” Time was what she needed. She had to find answers about Laurel, answers about the earl.
Which meant spending more time in his company.
Corrie ignored the odd rush of heat that thought filtered into her stomach.
The morning was blustery, the breeze whipping the newly leafed branches on the trees outside the windows. Needing a moment to fortify her courage, Corrie stood outside the door to the breakfast room she had been directed to by one of the servants, a small, very thin, dark-skinned man.
Speaking with an accent unlike any she had ever heard, he’d told her his name was Samir. When she asked him where he came from, he’d said he was from the Oudh District of India, that his family was no longer living and he had come to England with Lord Tremaine.
A manservant from India. More and more the earl intrigued her. She could think of no one of her acquaintance who was anything like him.
Corrie walked into the breakfast room, a cheery place done in yellow and peach, with a table loaded with gold-rimmed porcelain and gleaming silver. Delicious smells rose from an elaborate sideboard covered with silver chafing dishes and steaming urns of coffee and tea.
“Good morning, Cousin.” A handsome blond man spotted her and rose from his chair. Charles Forsythe was shorter than his brother, and as fair as his wife instead of dark like the earl. Tremaine followed suit and rose as well, but more slowly, with a casual sort of insolence that seemed to be part of his nature.
“I’m your cousin Charles,” the blond man continued. “You’ve already met my brother, Gray, and my wife, Rebecca.”
“Why, yes. It’s good to meet you, Cousin Charles. Good morning, everyone.” She didn’t look at the earl. She didn’t like the oddly disoriented feeling she experienced whenever she did.
“Do join us,” Charles said. “You must be hungry. You missed supper last evening.”
She managed a smile. “Yes, I discover I am ravenously hungry this morning.”
She dared a glance at Tremaine, saw his eyes darken with something she couldn’t read, and continued over to the chair Charles pulled out for her.
“You’re beginning to settle in?” he asked. “Your maid has found the kitchen and acquainted herself with our servants?”
“Yes. It is very kind of you to allow me this visit.”
Charles smiled. He had very white teeth and hazel eyes, and though he was not as imposing as his brother, he was a very attractive man. “I’m sure Becky will enjoy the chance for female companionship.”
But when Corrie glanced at Rebecca, the tight smile she received made it clear that Cousin Becky wished Letty Moss had never arrived at Castle Tremaine.
Breakfast continued with pleasant conversation, Charles being as charming as his older brother was not. Tremaine said little, but she could feel his eyes on her, and the sensation sent nervous tremors through her core. There was something about him…. And yet the more she was around him, the less she could imagine her sister enjoying his company, let alone falling in love with him.
Laurel had always been sweet and terribly shy. A man like Gray Forsythe would have frightened her, not charmed her. But perhaps there was another side of the man that Corrie had not yet seen.
The earl had arrived earlier than the rest of his family and was nearly finished with his meal by the time a servant filled a plate for her and set it down on the table. Obviously, the man was an early riser. He finished the last of his eggs, cast her a final glance and excused himself from the group. The minute he disappeared from the breakfast room, the pressure in Corrie’s chest began to ease.
She took a deep breath and released it slowly, fixed her attention on Charles and Rebecca, and joined in their light conversation.
“I’m afraid I have a prior engagement this afternoon,” Rebecca said. “Perhaps tomorrow we’ll have a chance to get to know each other a bit.”
“That would be nice,” Corrie said, not at all looking forward to the event. Still, getting to know Rebecca Forsythe might lead to information about Laurel and the earl.
As the meal continued, neither Charles nor Rebecca mentioned Letty’s missing husband, Cyrus—a blessing, since Corrie knew almost nothing about him.
As soon as everyone finished, she excused herself and returned upstairs. Since Rebecca had dodged her company, Corrie intended to take advantage of the time she had to herself and walk to the village. It wasn’t that far, and she was ready to begin her investigation. She hadn’t been to Castle-on-Avon since she was a girl. No one would recognize her and she was anxious to discover what she might find out.
Changing into a day dress of apricot muslin, and grabbing her shawl, straw bonnet and reticule, Corrie set off for the village.
Six
A blustery wind blew the fringes of her shawl, but her full skirts and petticoats kept her legs warm. Corrie was enjoying her walk along the trail more than she had expected, noticing how green the fields were, how the wildflowers seemed to dance in the breeze. She was shading her eyes to get a better view of the copse of trees on the horizon when she saw him, a tall male figure mounted on a huge black horse.
Silhouetted against the sun, dressed in the sort of riding breeches and full-sleeved shirt he had worn yesterday, his hair tied back as before, the earl seemed out of time and place, as if he should have lived a hundred years ago.
The moment he spotted her walking along the path, he turned the stallion and began a leisurely gallop in her direction. The beautiful horse effortlessly climbed the rise to where she stood, and the earl drew the animal to a halt a few feet away.
“Mrs. Moss. I thought you would be spending the afternoon with Rebecca. Instead you are out for a stroll.” He smiled, but it didn’t look sincere. “You appear to be enjoying yourself.”
“Why, yes I am.” The words came out in an embarrassingly breathy voice and she stiffened her spine. “Your sister-in-law was busy and I was glad for a chance to get a little exercise. It’s a bit windy, but the sun is warm, making it a perfect day for a walk in the countryside.”
He frowned, his sleek black brows drawing together. “Where is your maid?” His voice held a hint of disapproval that sent her irritation up a notch.
“The village isn’t that far, and need I remind you, my lord, I am a married woman.”
His mouth barely curved. “You needn’t remind me, Mrs. Moss. I have imagined you often in that manner.” He said it as if he meant something else, but she couldn’t quite figure out what that could be.
“I’m afraid I had better be going,” she said. “I have some shopping to do and I don’t wish to be late in my return.”
“Perhaps I should accompany you—just to be certain you are not accosted.”
“No! I mean, no thank you. I shall be fine on my own. Good afternoon, my lord.”
Corrie continued walking, trying to ignore the butterflies swirling in her stomach. She couldn’t figure out why the man affected her as he did, but she didn’t like it. And she certainly didn’t want him to go with her. She had questions to ask, and she could hardly do so with the earl tagging along.
As she continued along the trail, she dared a glance over her shoulder, saw that he was riding the opposite way, and breathed a sigh of relief. Turning her thoughts to the questions she meant to ask, she increased her pace toward the village.
The moment Letty Moss disappeared from view, Gray pulled Raja to a halt and spun the stallion in the opposite direction. Staying as far back as he could, careful to keep from being spotted, he followed the woman into the village. He saw her walk into one of the shops across from the market square and while she was inside, rode to the stable.
“I won’t be long,” he told one of the stable boys, handing him the horse’s reins and flipping him a coin. “Take care of him till I get back.”
Returning to High Street, the main street of town, he spotted Letty coming out of the shop and stepping into the one next door. As soon as she was inside, Gray made his way to the window. Inside the shop, she examined bolts of cloth, fingering the colorful swatches of silk with tender care. Then she made her way toward the clerk. He watched the two women talking, but couldn’t hear what was being said.
Letty left the shop and went into the butcher’s store, from which she soon exited munching on a piece of ham. Next she stopped by the hatmaker’s. Letty didn’t seem to be buying much, just having a look around, but then if her tale was true, she had very little money.
She appeared to be having no illicit meetings, no rendezvous with a man, nor was she doing anything that might give Gray pause.
He told himself to return to the house and leave the woman alone, but something held him back. Instead, he waited the nearly two hours Letty remained in the village, then retrieved Raja and followed her home.
He watched her walking along the path through the tall green grasses, her hips swaying as if to some silent song. His groin tightened. He couldn’t believe such an innocent, unconscious movement could stir him that way. He nudged the stallion forward, eager to catch up with her.
She must have heard hoofbeats behind her, for she whirled toward the sound and her foot caught on an unseen obstacle in the grass. She went down with an unladylike yelp, falling backward over a big granite boulder. Her skirts went into the air and her frothy white petticoats flew up to her chin.
Gray found himself grinning. He couldn’t remember the last time he had done that. He sobered, pulled Raja to a halt on the path, and swung down from the saddle.
“Here—let me help you.”
She slapped away the hand he offered, shoved down her skirts and propped herself up on her elbows, her knees still draped over the rock. “I don’t need your help. You are the reason I am in this humiliating position in the first place.”
“How is it I am at fault because you tripped?” He reached down and caught her wrist, hauling her somewhat awkwardly to her feet.
She didn’t bother to answer, just cast him a look that said it was true. The ribbons on her bonnet had come undone and her hat tumbled into the grass. Her glorious copper hair came loose on one side and hung down in a riot of curls against her shoulder. Gray fought an urge to tangle his fingers in the heavy mass and haul her mouth up to his for a kiss.
It was insane. He barely knew the woman, and he definitely didn’t trust her. Perhaps Samir was right about denying himself for too long. He made a mental note to pay a visit to Bethany Chambers, wife of the aged Earl of Devane, whose country home, Parkside, was just beyond the next village. Gray had heard the countess had returned for the summer. Though he hadn’t seen her in several months, she was a woman of strong appetites, and he knew she would welcome him into her bed.
Letty began to brush off her dress, drawing his attention to the bosom straining against her bodice. He tried not to wonder if her breasts were as full and tantalizing as they appeared, or how they might feel in his hands. Letty made no comment, just turned to begin her journey back along the path, then winced as her ankle crumpled beneath her. Gray caught her before she could fall.
She looked up at him with those jewel-green eyes. “I—I think I twisted my ankle.”
“Sit down on the rock and let me take a look.”
Letty sat carefully and Gray knelt in front of her. He picked up her foot, slid off her low-heeled leather boot and began to gently examine her ankle.
“What…what are you doing?”
“I was in the army. I want to make sure nothing’s broken.” Her stockings had holes, he noticed, though they had been carefully mended. At least part of her story appeared to be true. She was certainly in need of money.
“It is only twisted,” she said, trying to pull the sprained limb free of his grasp. “I’m sure it is fine.”
Gray didn’t let go. “Hold still, will you? You’re only making this harder.” It wasn’t the only thing getting hard. As he ran his hand over the fine bones in her feet, his groin tightened. Gray set his jaw against the unwanted arousal and continued to test each tiny bone, feeling for possible injury, trying not to think what it might be like to slide his hand upward, over the smooth silk stocking that covered a very shapely calf, all the way to the slit in her drawers, then inside to touch—
He clamped his jaw against a shot of lust and the painful throbbing of his erection. Silently he cursed. He needed a woman and badly, and though this one fired his blood, he could not have her. Not yet.
He felt her trembling and realized he still cradled her small foot in his hands.
Gray cleared his throat. “I don’t think there are any broken bones.”
“I told you, I am fine.”
He slid her boot back on and tied the laces, carefully helped her up from the rock. She took a step and nearly fell. “Oh, dear.”
“You need to keep your weight off that ankle. You’ll have to ride home with me.”
He didn’t give her time to argue, just scooped her up in his arms and settled her in the saddle, one leg on each side of the horse, her full skirts bunching around her knees. Raja danced and sidestepped as Gray swung up behind her, but Letty didn’t seem to be afraid. At least not of the horse.
“What a beautiful animal,” she said, trying to keep her balance without touching him.
Gray almost smiled. It wasn’t going to happen, and since he had no choice but to see her safely home, he might as well enjoy himself. He wrapped an arm around her waist and nudged the stallion forward. Letty tried to scoot away, and nearly unseated them both.
“I would advise you to sit still, Mrs. Moss, before we both wind up on the ground.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “What are you doing out here? I thought you were returning to the castle.”
“Lucky for you, I wasn’t ready to go home just yet.”
She turned, tilted her head to look up at him. “You weren’t following me, were you?”
“Now, why would I do that?”
Letty made no reply, but her wariness did not lessen. They rode silently along the trail until the horse started up a rise and Letty began to slide backward in the saddle. She grabbed a handful of the stallion’s thick mane to hold herself in place, but it did no good, her bottom coming to a snug rest between his thighs. Even through the fabric of her skirt and petticoats, he could feel the heat of her, the roundness of her flesh, and he went hard just thinking of the soft, womanly curves beneath her gown.
“I hope I’m not making you too uncomfortable,” she said.
Uncomfortable? Good God, he ached with every heartbeat. “I’m afraid that is an understatement.”
She started to move, squirming to put some distance between them, making him harden even more. Gray stifled a groan. “Hold still, dammit. Just stay where you are.”
Letty’s head came up. “You don’t have to swear. If you will recall, this is your fault in the first place.”
She had accused him of that, he remembered with a hint of amusement. “Sorry, I forgot.”
They didn’t talk again until the castle came into view. Gray rode directly up to the front, where a groom stood, waiting to take the reins. Gray swung from the saddle, then reached up to lift Letty down, finding her waist was so small his hands wrapped completely around it.
“Thank you,” she said softly. He noticed she was breathing a little too fast, and figured he must be right about her. Her experience with men was obviously limited. Cyrus was a much older man. Perhaps his desire for a woman had declined with his years.
As Samir suggested, perhaps Letty’s needs would surface, and if that happened, Gray would be delighted to oblige. At least he would be once he had assured himself she was no threat to him or his family.
He looked down at the top of her head, at the fiery curls resting against her small shoulders, and fisted his hands to keep from reaching out to touch them. She might not be a woman of great intellectual capacity, but she set fire to his blood, and should she wind up in his bed, he wouldn’t waste time talking.
She looked up at him as he lifted her against his chest to carry her up the front steps, and another surge of lust hit him like a fist.
Holy God. Samir was right. It was past time he took a woman. He would send a note to Bethany Chambers. Gray just hoped he would receive her reply very soon.
In her quilted satin robe, Coralee sat in the middle of the massive four-poster bed, her legs tucked up beneath her. She had babied her ankle for the past few days, and the limb seemed to have fully recovered. Perhaps she owed some thanks to Gray Forsythe, but she didn’t want to think of him now.
Instead, she fixed her attention to the bundles of pale pink letters, bound with pink satin ribbon and carrying traces of Laurel’s favorite perfume, that rested on the faded counterpane. Corrie had brought the letters with her from London, all that remained of the sister she had loved.
