She’s run off with Boynton. I told you that. Hannah’s triumphant voice echoed through Leo’s mind. She’d sounded positive of Jocelyn’s betrayal. Pain lashed him, his steps faltering until commonsense reasserted itself. Jocelyn was happy at Merrivale. She was excited about the baby.
A foreign sound pierced his unhappy musing. Leo paused mid-stride, his head cocking to the left. He’d heard a noise. It repeated—this time a pained scream rippled on the air. “Jocelyn!” He was off running before the echoes of the cry died.
“I’m in the maze.”
She hadn’t run off. “Keep talking. I’ll find you.” Leo exploded through the maze entrance, past a lingering man. “Jocelyn?”
“Leo, take care. Boynton is here somewhere.”
Leo tripped and cursed softly. “Why is he with you?” Who is he to you?
“He’s not with me, you stupid man,” she snapped.
Relief roared through him at her indignation. “Why did you scream?”
“It wasn’t me.” Her voice sounded closer this time.
“Who—” He rounded the corner, and she was in front of him. “Are you all right?” He embraced her, frantic for reassurance.
“I’m fine. Please, let’s leave this maze.”
He swiftly guided her through the shadows, down the gravel path to the exit. The man who’d lingered at the entrance had disappeared.
“What happened?” He wanted to scoop her up and hug her to his chest, yet there were so many unanswered questions. “Is Boynton still in the maze?”
“I think so. I kicked him.” Her chin lifted in defiance. “Melburn suggested it.”
“My cousin?” Now he was intrigued.
“He said if a man accosted me without permission, I should look for an opportunity to kick him in the balls.”
Leo winced. “Did his advice work?”
“Yes.” She sounded smugly satisfied.
“Let’s get you back to the manor.”
“I want to rejoin our guests,” Jocelyn said.
“I’ll escort you back to the manor.” He intended to have a word with Boynton. He eyed her, relief at finding her releasing the tightness in his chest. “Everyone will leave soon. You’ve worked hard today. Go to your room and rest.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that an order?”
“Yes.”
“Because you don’t trust me or because you think I might be tired?”
Something twisted inside him, and he had to swallow to dislodge the clog in his throat. He caressed her cheek. “I don’t want you to get fatigued. The servants or Mrs. Allenby will supervise the rest of the night. All you need to do is ask.”
She winced when his fingers brushed her jaw. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“Boynton struck me.”
Anger flared again as he turned her face to the light. He trailed his fingers gently down her face until he reached the nasty scratch that marred her silky skin. A trail of smeared blood had dried on her chin, and he rubbed it gently with a damp finger. “He’ll pay for this.”
“Punch him in the nose.”
“You sound bloodthirsty.” Her manner calmed his earlier doubts, shame filling him now for even considering Hannah’s accusations.
“I hate Boynton, and I hope you put a kink in his nose. He said he intends to spread rumors about my past, if he hasn’t already.”
Leo grinned, despite his anger at Boynton. “For you, my dear, it will be my pleasure.”
Jocelyn climbed the stairs feeling every ache and pain. In her bedchamber, she surveyed her face, probing the sore spot on her jaw. She winced and turned away. Bastard. She should have kicked him harder.
After cleansing the wound and applying one of her mother’s salves, she managed to remove her gown and slide into bed. Now that she’d slowed exhaustion struck, but sleep evaded her. Too many thoughts danced in her mind.
Boynton would waste no time spreading the facts of her past. The delicious gossip of a man duped by a courtesan and tricked into marriage would do the rounds in Tavistock and gradually the rumors would wend their way to London. Once the locals learned the sordid truth, they’d turn their backs on her. Leo and Cassie would reap the same treatment by association. Every prediction her sisters had uttered about dire consequences was finally coming to pass. And their baby—what sort of life would he or she have when everyone assaulted them with vicious whispers?
Merrivale was Leo’s home. He was a good man and didn’t deserve any of this.
Unable to sleep, she tossed and turned, wincing with each twist of her body. Damn, Boynton, and a pox on Hannah.
The hours marched past, and someone knocked on her door. Susan probably. At Jocelyn’s muted summons, her maid entered. After setting down a tray, she drew back the curtains. On seeing Jocelyn, her mouth dropped open and her perkiness fled.
“Mrs. Sherbourne. Your face!” She snapped her mouth shut, her lips flattening to a thin line of disapproval. She stole a quick glance at the connecting door.
“Leo didn’t do this.” Jocelyn rushed to his defense.
“Yes, Mrs. Sherbourne.”
Susan didn’t believe her. Jocelyn glanced at the pillow beside, her noting the lack of indentation. She frowned, not sure what Leo’s failure to join her meant. At the very least she’d expected him to check on her.
“Should I help you out of bed, Mrs. Sherbourne?”
“Yes, please.” She noted Susan’s anxious glance and sighed. “My babe is fine. I’m merely a little sore.”
A sharp hiss escaped Susan when she witnessed the extent of Jocelyn’s bruising. “Take a seat and drink your tea while I get some warm water.”
Jocelyn obediently limped over to sit in one of the chairs by the window. She caught a glimpse of her face in the looking glass. No wonder Susan was suspicions. She looked as if she’d taken part in a pugilist match. She moved gingerly, biting back an unladylike curse. The idea was to reassure her maid, not alarm her further.
Susan returned with water and, after helping Jocelyn to wash and dress, finally bustled from the room. She must speak with Leo to learn what had happened with Boynton. She and Leo needed to form a plan, present a united front, and they couldn’t do that if Leo was avoiding her.
Susan returned with ointment for her bruises.
“I’ve already applied salve,” Jocelyn said. “Is Leo here?”
Susan sniffed. “No one has seen him since last night.”
“Please make sure Woodley knows I wish to see Leo as soon as he returns.”
“Yes, Mrs. Sherbourne.”
Jocelyn spent most of the day pacing the parlor. She read a story to Cassie and told her she’d walked into a tree branch in the dark when her stepdaughter expressed curiosity about her face. It was the same story she told everyone except Tilly and Woodley.
“What are you going to do?” Tilly asked after Jocelyn admitted the truth of her injuries.
“The man has not a shred of honor,” Woodley added.
“I’ll speak to Leo. If the wretched man ever decides to return to Merrivale. My husband, I mean.”
As the day progressed, and Leo didn’t arrive, her frustration grew. When the man finally made an appearance she might just flay him with her tongue.
“Is the woman all right?” Leo asked. While he was loathe to leave Jocelyn after Boynton’s attempted abduction, she’d be safe at the manor. It was time to clear his name and finish the investigation he’d started on his own, before the constable had tossed him in a cell. Besides, Cartwright had stuck by him, and Leo could do no less now when the constable required his help.
This time they surveyed the abbey from another vantage point. It was closer with better views, and they’d manage to ferret out identities if the men didn’t wear masks.
“The woman is fine. She said a servant took her food and ale. If you ask me they’d drugged it because she said she slept. Her eyes didn’t look right.”
“What the devil do you think they’re up to?” Leo asked, his hands wrapped around a brandy flask as if to ward off the chill. Each exhalation created a puff of steam. “I was sure they’d appear at the abbey last night.”
“They’ll come tonight,” Cartwright said with an air of confidence. “The men I’ve hired are in place and will move when I give the signal.”
Leo wished he held the same certainty. To his mind, the men were playing with them, like a child teasing a kitten. “We know they kidnapped Ella and probably the maid found in the maze. They enticed the blacksmith’s wife.” Leo’s brow crinkled as he stared down at the abbey. “Ursula and Elizabeth were clearly strangled. It’s still puzzling me. Why?”
A rumble of laughter came from Cartwright. “Not just a pretty face. I’ll make a parish constable out of you yet. I wondered if you’d twig to the differences in the deaths.”
“What does it mean?”
“Maybe nothing,” Cartwright said. “It might mean they take turns getting rid of loose ends and have different methods of disposing of the women.”
“Or there are two separate murderers at work.”
“There is that theory,” Cartwright agreed.
Leo tossed over the information they had. “I’ve been thinking about this for days. I don’t understand why someone would strangle Elizabeth. She was a harmless elderly woman.” He shifted to a more comfortable position. “Unless she saw something. It’s possible she witnessed a crime, but her behavior was erratic. Half her words didn’t make sense.”
“But an odd moment of lucidity might have meant disaster for the person concerned,” Cartwright mused.
“Or Elizabeth might have been murdered because of me,” Leo said, voicing the idea that had plagued him for some time. “As an act of revenge.”
“You haven’t considered Jocelyn or the woman who looked after Elizabeth?”
“No, Jocelyn didn’t murder her mother,” Leo said. “She gave up everything to keep her mother safe, and Tilly is devoted to Jocelyn. I doubt she did it either.”
“You didn’t even pause to think about it,” Cartwright observed.
“I know my wife. She’s generous and loving. She—”
“We have a group of horsemen approaching,” Cartwright said.
Leo watched the men canter up to the abbey and dismount. The raucous screech of feminine laughter floated to him, and an open carriage came into view. Torches and lanterns soon lit the entrance.
“The men are masked,” Cartwright said.
“Gives them a sense of anonymity, makes them feel safe. Don’t worry,” Leo said in a grim voice. “I recognize the horses. The bay with the white socks belongs to Peregrine Richards. The horses all come from the Richards’ stable, which means his guests are with him.”
“But Sir James isn’t here.”
“Give him time.”
A man helped the women from the carriage, sweeping them off their feet into his arms. Shrieks of laughter rang out, bolstered by masculine banter.
“It’s early,” Leo said. “They’ll want to have their fun first.”
Another carriage arrived, horsemen riding either side. The carriage pulled to a halt and four men climbed out. One reached back into the carriage and lifted out something.
“Another woman?”
“I’d lay money on it. I don’t like the escort.” Cartwright watched the men enter the abbey. Two remained at the entrance. “They’re armed. That will present difficulties.”
“Yes, we need to get inside the abbey.”
Cartwright shifted his weight, stretching his limbs. “We’ll have to get rid of the guards.” He scratched his chin then smirked. “Let’s dispose of the guards and replace them with two of my men.”
“I’ll take the one nearest the big oak,” Leo said. “We’ll have to disable the carriage drivers too.”
“We won’t have to,” Cartwright said with a jerk of his chin. “They’re leaving.”
Leo squinted through the growing darkness. “That’s a good plan on their part. They won’t want to attract attention.”
Once they no longer heard the rattle of the carriages, Leo and Cartwright crept from their vantage point, stalking their chosen quarry. Leo stole toward the oak, his gaze on his target. He was almost on the man when the crack of the wood beneath his boot sounded like gunfire. The man whirled, gun cocked. Desperate, Leo lunged, his fists swinging. The gun fired and pain screamed through his biceps.
Leo grunted and swung a heavy fist, despite the fiery burn in his arm. The man crumpled, and Leo dragged him behind the oak. He grabbed the man’s cloak and swung it over his shoulders.
“You,” a voice called from the ruins. “Who fired the gun?”
“’Twas me,” Leo said, dropping into local dialect. “’Twere only a bird. Frightened the wits out o’ me.”
“You’re sure it was a bird?”
Leo recognized Sir James’s voice. “Aye, sir.” He dipped his head, feigning respect. Bah! He’d like to wring the man’s neck. “’Twas an owl.”
The mournful hoot of an owl came on the heels of his words, Cartwright’s signal to his men. Leo saw Sir James nod and watched his retreat.
Leo backed into the shadows to inspect his arm. A scratch. He’d been lucky this time, but it burned like the fires of Hell. He dabbed the wound with the tail of his cloak.
“You all right?” a gruff voice asked.
“Bullet scratched me. I’m bleeding but I’ll live.”
“Let me see.” Cartwright angled Leo’s arm to the light and nodded. He pulled a kerchief from within his cloak and bound Leo’s arm in the competent moves of one experienced with gunshots. “Have you bound and gagged your man?”
“Not yet. He’s out cold behind the oak.”
Cartwright took care of the chore, pausing to hoot another signal. By the time he’d finished a dozen men stood with them in the shadows.
“We’ll wait half an hour to give them time to settle. Once we move, Jed and Harry, you guard the entrance. Stop anyone who tries to depart. I don’t want any shooting unless you’re being fired upon. Clear?”
“Aye,” the men said in a low chorus.
“The rest of you are with me. I want every man and woman inside the abbey ruins detained for questioning. I don’t care who the hell they are or what title they possess. No exceptions.”
“We’ll find them in the main body of the abbey where the roof is still intact,” Leo said. “Some of the men might be in the old cells where the monks used to sleep.”
“We’ll get them, sir,” one of the men said, his voice rough from smoking tobacco.
Once the half hour elapsed, Leo trailed into the abbey with the other men, the glowing torches making their furtive task easier. The scent of smoke and tobacco hung on the air, along with the sweet scent of something else. Leo recognized the smell as the same one he’d noticed during his previous visit.
Although they hadn’t lingered outside, the orgy was in full progress. Leo grimaced as they passed a cell. Pale limbs reflected the light, grunts of physical exertion loud and animalistic. A woman groaned, but didn’t seem to participate much. One of Cartwright’s men slid into the cell, his weapon cocked.
Leo noticed a blond man standing in the shadows. Jaego. His smile turned feral as he stalked forward, ignoring the discomfort in his arm. Time for payback.
Jocelyn retired late that night, exhausted but furious, only to wake several hours later, aware of someone entering her chamber.
“Leo?”
“Who else are you expecting to join you in bed?”
“That isn’t funny,” she muttered, turning to glare at him in the candlelight. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you join me last night? I haven’t done anything wrong, and I don’t deserve this treatment. I’m your wife!” Her voice rose with each successive word, and the slight quirk of his lips only made her angrier.
“Tell me about Boynton.”
“Did you find him?”
“We got him.” Satisfaction laced his voice as he stripped off his clothing.
Her gaze came to rest on his upper arm. “You’re hurt.” Her anger fled replaced by concern. She slithered off the bed and rounded it to stand in front of him, her fingers unfastening the makeshift bandage.
He winced, the air hissing from him when she tugged the cloth free. Blood started to flow anew.
“What happened?”
“I stood on a stick and frightened a man. He shot before asking questions.”
“This isn’t a joke,” she snapped.
“It’s a scratch. I won’t die.”
“You will if it becomes infected. Let me cleanse it for you.” She retrieved water and a cloth, her actions revealing the extent of the injury. It was as he said—a mere scratch. She held a pad to the wound until the bleeding ceased and applied another pad smeared with her mother’s salve. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Sir James Harvey, aided by Jack Boynton, started a club at the abbey—their version of the Hell Fire Club.”
Jocelyn’s mind raced ahead. “They’re responsible for the murders.”
“Cartwright thinks so, although they haven’t confessed their crimes.”
“Boynton never liked Mother,” Jocelyn said. “He told me he’s been lurking around the manor for weeks.”
Leo nodded. “Tell me everything he said.”
Jocelyn repeated Boynton’s words from the night of the Harvest festival.
“Hannah said you asked her to invite Boynton.”
“Ha! She would say that. My past mightn’t be pristine, but I’m not a liar.” Jocelyn glowered at him, incensed he’d spoken to Hannah before bothering to hear her side of the tale. “She thought you’d marry her. The truth is she asked me if she could bring two guests. Stupidly, I assumed both she and Peregrine would bring one guest each of the opposite sex.”
“She brought Jaego and Boynton, men who were guaranteed to upset us.”
“Yes.” Jocelyn’s brows drew together. “Which tells us what?”
“That she planned this entire debacle to cause dissension between us.”
Some of Jocelyn’s apprehension dispersed. “Hannah has never liked me. Her goal was to wed you, and she hasn’t given up, not even after our marriage.”
“I’ll talk to her and make sure she ceases her troublemaking. What about Boynton?”
“I told you. He threatened to tell everyone of my past.”
The flicker of the candle he’d set on the dresser highlighted his scowl of displeasure. “I wish I could have stayed to reassure you. Cartwright needed my help. Most constables would have locked me away and refused to listen to reason. I doubt Boynton will bother you any longer. He’ll be too busy trying to save his own skin.”
Jocelyn frowned. “But what if he’s already spread rumors?”
Leo laced their fingers together. “If he has we’ll face the trouble together.”
“But we’re not the only ones involved. What about Cassie and our baby? The gossip will stain their reputations too. Maybe even Melburn.”
“We’ll learn who our real friends are.” Leo sighed. “But I don’t think we’ll need to worry. The gossip from tonight will overshadow everything else. Along with Sir James and Boynton, Peregrine and Jaego were arrested plus several of their visitors.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“They’d drugged some of the women to keep them calm, but Cartwright thinks they’ll recover.”
“So it’s really over? They’re responsible for terrorizing Ella?”
“I think so. Cartwright will question them about the murders and the other missing women.” Leo drew her into his arms, freezing when he heard her faint cry. “I didn’t ask you how you were. Hades, I’m sorry, Jocelyn.” He carefully turned her face to the light, swearing when he saw the slight swelling and the bruises. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Susan thinks you did it.”
“The devil she does.”
“Believe me. She thinks much worse. She still thinks you’re guilty of murder and that I’ve been having an affair behind your back. It might be a good idea for her to find us both in here tomorrow morning,” Jocelyn said with a teasing smile. She sobered when her thoughts returned to Boynton. “I’m happy here at Merrivale with you, Leo. I’m happier than I ever thought I would be, given my past. Tell me you don’t regret our marriage.”
“Of course not.” Leo lifted her carefully into his arms and placed her on the bed. He rapidly stripped the rest of his clothes and joined her, pulling the covers over them.
She settled against him, savoring his warmth and the weight of his arms around her. His breathing slowed as he drifted to sleep, and she smiled in satisfaction until she replayed the last minutes of their conversation. Leo hadn’t returned her sentiments.
Leo stalked from Merrivale, a swagger in his step. His limbs were loose and limber, a sense of wellbeing pervading him. There was something to be said for an ex-courtesan as a wife. Jocelyn never hesitated in her loving, and the memories of her mouth stretched around his cock would bring a smile for the rest of the day. Susan’s dismay at his presence made his good humor fade. It would take time for everyone to trust him, but soon word would circulate about Cartwright’s latest arrests. His name would be cleared.
Now it was time to deal with Hannah, and he wasn’t looking forward to the task.
He strode to the stables. Once in the saddle, he turned his horse for Hartscombe. It was time to confront Hannah and let her know his loyalties lay with Jocelyn.
After a gallop across the moors, he trotted up to the castle, handing his mount off to one of the stable lads. Fractious kicking and neighing from one of the stalls told him Hannah hadn’t visited the stables this morning. She was one of the few who could control the bay stallion. The butler showed him into the breakfast room where he found Hannah’s parents breaking their fast.
“Leo, what brings you for a visit?” Viscount Hartscombe waved at an empty chair, his weathered face wreathed in a smile. “Have a seat. Join us.”
Leo grimaced inwardly. They didn’t know, and he didn’t want to be the one to tell them. “I came to see Hannah.”
“Ah,” the viscountess said, her blue eyes bright in an unfashionably tan face. “I believe Alfred said she’d gone for a ride, perhaps to join Peregrine and our other guests.”
“Her horse was still in the stables.”
“She probably went out the side door and you missed her,” Viscount Hartscombe said. “Can we help with anything?”
“Not unless you’re involved with her scheming to upset my wife,” Leo said, watching Hannah’s parents closely for their reaction.
“Oh, dear,” the viscountess said. “I thought she was past her infatuation with you. What has she done now?”
“It doesn’t signify,” Leo said in a curt voice. “She won’t repeat the action after I’ve spoken with her.”
“Jaego’s appearance, I presume,” the viscountess said. “After all that has happened, I admit I was surprised to hear he’d received an invitation to visit the manor.”
“Have the charges against you been dropped?” Viscount Hartscombe asked.
“Yes. I believe Cartwright captured the real culprits last night.”
“Oh? We hadn’t heard, but what a relief,” the viscountess said. “The maids have been quite silly about the situation.”
Leo gave a curt nod. Silly? Several women had died. “If Hannah returns please let her know I wish to speak with her.” After another strained smile, he strode from the breakfast room. He’d talk to the stable lads. Hopefully they’d give him an indication of where to find Hannah.
Hannah’s horse was gone when he arrived, even though she must’ve seen his mount and known he was looking for her. Avoiding him. Too bad. He intended to settle this matter between them today. Hannah’s behavior wasn’t fair to Jocelyn. It was no wonder he’d caught Jocelyn studying him with uncertainty. She might think he hadn’t observed her fear and her struggle to contain it, but he noticed everything about Jocelyn. His wife delighted him, and he’d do anything to make her happy.
As he’d hoped, the stable lads pointed him in the direction Hannah had ridden. He headed onto the moor, past craggy rocks. Normally, he loved riding in the moors, but today he wanted to settle things with Hannah and make sure she knew not to upset Jocelyn again. If that meant barring her from the manor and refusing to let her see Cassie then he’d do it. Jocelyn meant that much to him and he wouldn’t see her distressed.
After half an hour he finally spotted Hannah galloping alongside the river. He guided his horse in the same direction, intending to intercept her. To his frustration, Hannah didn’t slacken pace.
Unwilling to risk his black, he slowed to a trot. “She’ll break her bloody neck before I get a chance to do it for her,” he muttered. By Hades, the woman was a menace. He didn’t intend to chase her all over Dartmoor. Leo swung his horse back toward Merrivale, only slowing when he heard the thunder of hooves behind him.
“Leo, you didn’t take up my challenge.” Hannah pouted, her fair hair tousled from her mad gallop, her cheeks rosy and eyes bright with excitement. She was a beautiful woman, but not for him.
“I’m not willing to break my neck in a stupid race.”
“Pooh, you never used to be so straight-laced.”
“I have responsibilities.”
Some of her gaiety faded, her mouth crimping into a firm line. “You shouldn’t have married her. She’s a whore.”
His mouth tightened. “She’s my wife.”
“I bet you didn’t know she earned her living lying on her back.”
“If you insist on spreading vicious rumors about Jocelyn, you won’t be welcome at Merrivale Manor.”
“Bah! Shouldn’t you be worried about her past soiling your good name? Cassie’s good name? Even Peregrine and I will be sullied by the gossip.”
Leo glared at his sister-in-law. “It’s your prerogative to feel that way, but Jocelyn is my wife, and I intend to stand by her. I won’t tolerate your mischief. I know you invited Boynton and Jaego to the festivities with the sole purpose of causing trouble.” He spurred his horse into a canter and rode off without another word.
Jocelyn wandered the garden with Tilly, a basket dangling over her arm. “I’d like to make some of the healing ointment. It helps with the pain of my bruises. Do you know the salve I mean?”
“I watched Elizabeth make it many times. We’ll need at least three handfuls of willow bark. Mrs. Green told Elizabeth there are several willows growing on the riverbank. Do you feel up to a walk?”
A pang went through Jocelyn at the mention of her mother. Guilt settled uneasily on her shoulders. Boynton had killed her mother because of Jocelyn’s actions. “Of course I can walk. It’s when I stop that the aches become worse.”
“I’d feel better if you rested and ate something before we went. I promised Mr. Leo I’d look after you. You must consider your babe.”
Warmth rippled through Jocelyn. She hadn’t realized Leo had made a special point to ensure her care and the considerate nature of his request made her wish for his presence now. Her husband had given her much. Subconsciously, she caressed her belly, her lips twitching when she realized what she was doing. It had become a habit to soothe her when she was troubled or vexed.
“Very well, Tilly. I’ll humor you and rest. We’ll go for a walk this afternoon.”
Several hours later she and Tilly left the garden via a small gate near the fruit orchard. Tiny brown birds flitted through the trees, and she caught a flash of movement to her right.
“Ooh, look. It’s a rabbit,” she said, pausing to watch the creature hop into the hedgerow. “How adorable.”
“They’re better in a pie,” Tilly said. “The gardeners are always trying to trap them. You should hear them complain about the beasties eating their vegetables.”
Jocelyn started walking again, wondering if she should summon a footman to accompany them. No, Leo had said they’d captured those responsible for the murders. “Did everyone enjoy the Harvest Festival?”
“Oh, yes. They’ll be talking about it for weeks to come. In the past, the staff wasn’t allowed to attend. They were expected to organize food for the guests, so they were very excited when you made sure they could participate.”
“Everyone worked hard with the preparations. It was only right they enjoy the festivities with everyone else.”
Tilly slipped her a sideward glance. “From what I understand the staff was worried Mr. Leo would marry Hannah.”
“They were slow to warm to me,” Jocelyn remarked. “I thought they preferred Hannah. She’s very beautiful.”
“That one trades on her beauty and expects everyone to jump at her demands.” Tilly wrinkled her nose. “She isn’t beautiful inside. They say she has a temper.”
Jocelyn had seen Hannah in a sulky mood and sometimes a little snappish, but she’d never seen her lose control. “Maybe she’s learned to rein in her rage.”
“Maybe.” Tilly didn’t sound certain.
“We shouldn’t gossip,” Jocelyn said. “Are we taking this fork in the path?”
“No, the next one leads directly to the riverbank.”
“I thought they said it rained a lot in Dartmoor.” The path narrowed, and Tilly slowed to walk behind her.
“I expect the winter will be cold.”
“Oh, curse it.” Jocelyn slowed to untangle her skirts from a protruding branch. “The path is very overgrown. I didn’t think it would be such an obstacle course.”
“I don’t think anyone comes here much. Mrs. Green mentioned the locals think this particular spot is haunted after the first Mrs. Sherbourne died in the vicinity.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” Jocelyn said. “All the ghosts I’ve heard of recently have turned out to be human.”
“You keep thinking that,” Tilly said. “And if a ghost attacks you can beat them away with a stout stick.”
“Tilly,” Jocelyn remonstrated. “You sound as if you believe in ghosts.”
“I don’t disbelieve,” Tilly said.
Jocelyn laughed. “Next you’ll be telling me the tales of fairies and evil pixies, black dogs and evil witches roaming Dartmoor are true.”
“The locals believe the tales.”
“Yes, they do.” A shiver drew a rash of goose bumps to her arms and legs. “We should talk about something more cheerful.”
“How are your aches and pains?”
“That is not a cheerful memory,” Jocelyn said.
They walked single file, climbed over the trunk of a fallen tree and stopped to untangle brambles from their skirts.
Jocelyn picked a blackberry and popped it into her mouth. “The berries are delicious.”
“I wonder if Cook would make us a pie,” Tilly said.
Jocelyn plucked several more berries from the bush and dropped them into her basket. “I would love a pie.”
They lingered, picking berries until purple juices stained their fingertips.
“We’d better collect the willow bark,” Jocelyn said. “Leo said he wouldn’t be late tonight. He had to ride over to Hartscombe, and I believe he intended to visit Cartwright.”
Tilly increased her pace, leading the way down the path.
“How far is it?” Jocelyn was suddenly weary.
“Not much farther. I can hear the water.”
The path ended abruptly, the abundance of brambles and undergrowth giving way to a rocky beach on the bank of the river. An elegant wading bird probed the mud at the water’s edge, searching for food. Their arrival spooked it, and the bird took off with a raucous cry of alarm.
“Where…oh, look,” Jocelyn said. “We’ve taken the wrong path. There’s another one just over there and it looks as if it goes straight past the willows.”
“Never mind. We’ll know for next time,” Tilly said. “You’re looking a mite tired. Why don’t you take a seat and let me cut the bark? It won’t take me long, and we’ll be on our way.”
Jocelyn nodded and followed Tilly along the riverbank. She handed Tilly the knife from her basket and sat to wait on a large stone.
Tilly disappeared beneath the nearest willow. A cluck of disapproval emanated from under the tree. “It looks as if someone has already cut the bark on this trunk. I don’t want to take more and kill it.” She backed from beneath the branches. “Stay there, Jocelyn. I’ll check the other trees and will be back in a trice.”
After Tilly disappeared, Jocelyn tipped back her head to study the clouds and pick out shapes. “A dog, I think.” She tilted her head to the right. Yes, that looked like a playful puppy.
Half an hour passed, and she started to wonder what had happened to Tilly. The other trees were nearby. It shouldn’t take her this long.
The clip-clop of a horse’s hooves brought a rush of excitement. Leo. She shot to her feet, a smile curling her lips until she identified the rider. Hannah.
“Oh, I thought it was Leo. Have you come to visit Cassie?” Jocelyn moved behind the stone she’d been sitting on, not wanting to get too close to the restive horse. It snorted and danced, but Hannah held it effortlessly in check.
“No.” Hannah’s face twisted in anger, her ire settling on Jocelyn. “I don’t understand why he married you. You’re plain and ugly and your hair...it’s horrid. Brazen, really.”
No matter how many times Jocelyn heard the insult, it still held the power to hurt. The words made her feel less, but as always, she lifted her chin to meet Hannah’s scorn. The other woman might be a renowned beauty, but today an icy chill glittered in her blue eyes.
In truth, Jocelyn could hardly refute Hannah. She’d never be a beauty, but despite that, she and Leo were happy. He mightn’t have told her he loved her, but he treated her with care and respect and sought her company.
Hannah’s horse sidestepped, dancing with impatience as she reined him in, smoothly exerting control. Something in Hannah’s mocking expression raised Jocelyn’s hackles. A stab of anxiety stirred in her stomach. She looked past Hannah and her mount, praying Tilly would hurry her chore and return.
When Hannah remained, and Tilly didn’t reappear, Jocelyn edged off the path out of the way. “Don’t let me hold you up.”
“You have something that belongs to me. I want it back.” Hannah dismounted and led her horse to a tree. She looped the reins over a sturdy branch before sauntering back to Jocelyn.
“Whatever do you mean?” Jocelyn’s unease deepened and she backed up a fraction more. Her boot struck a rock and her foot rolled. A sharp pain streaked up her leg and her cry rang out. “By St. Bridget, that hurt.” She hobbled to the large stone and perched on it to prod delicately at her ankle through her boots. A dull throb emanated from the wrenched area. “Did you see Tilly?”
“Oh, yes.” Hannah tapped her boot with her riding crop.
“Do you think she’ll be long? I’d like to return to the manor.”
“She won’t be coming.” Hannah struck her boot again without taking her gaze from Jocelyn.
Whack. Whack. Whack.
“I don’t understand.” With each beat of Hannah’s crop Jocelyn’s uneasiness increased. “She said she’d be right back.”
The swat of the whip ceased. “I struck her over the head, and she fell down.”
“I beg your pardon?” When Hannah merely regarded her with a mocking smile, Jocelyn frowned in confusion. “She’s hurt? Where is she?”
She started in the direction Tilly had gone, limping heavily. She paused, sucking in a deep breath, praying the dull ache would subside. Tilly needed her.
A hand shot out to grasp her upper arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Jocelyn wrenched away and glared at Hannah. “If Tilly is hurt, she needs my help.”
“It’s too late for you to aid her.”
The maniac light in Hannah’s eyes set Jocelyn’s heart racing. “Whatever do you mean?”
“You’re the stupid one.” Hannah’s voice held condescension. Clear amusement. “Leo belongs with me, and I intend to have him.”
“How?” Jocelyn gaped at Hannah. “Leo is my husband. He loves me.” Leo mightn’t have spoken the words out loud but he showed signs of caring for her.
Hannah burst into laughter, a sweet tinkling sound that contrasted sharply with the furious glitter in her expression. “You poor deluded thing. Leo and I laugh about you when we’re together. Why would a woman like you interest Leo?”
Pain battered Jocelyn, propelled with a true aim by Hannah’s viperous tongue. “I-I don’t believe you. Leo married me.”
“In a fit of pique,” Hannah said. “We argued and Leo went off to London. Of course we’d argued before, but this time the stupid man wanted to teach me a lesson. He regrets his actions now.”
“No,” Jocelyn whispered.
“Leo realized he made a mistake,” Hannah continued. “He doesn’t want you.”
“Why are you telling me? Doesn’t Leo have the guts?” She couldn’t quite pull off the hauteur she’d aimed for.
Hannah shrugged, unconcerned by Jocelyn’s devastation. “You know what men are like. They think they’re in charge, but they rely on their women. I promised him I’d tell you to spare him the trouble. Come back to the castle. I can provide a carriage to take you away. You needn’t face him again.”
“But my things.” Jocelyn’s mind screamed this was wrong. Hannah wasn’t telling the truth. Leo wasn’t the sort of man who relied on others to fix his problems. He resembled his cousin in his honesty. No, she wouldn’t—couldn’t—believe Hannah. Jocelyn’s chin lifted. “Leo isn’t like that. We’re having a child.”
“It was a mistake. I told you we had a disagreement.”
“You must argue a lot because Leo spends every night in my bed.” It was the wrong thing to say. Jocelyn knew it the instant the words left her mouth.
Hannah’s features contorted with ugliness. Her nostrils flared. “You don’t understand. I’ve done everything for you. I freed you from your mother.” Her hands fisted as she stalked closer. “She was a burden, threatening to drag you down. Now that she’s gone you have freedom to start a new life.”
“My mother?”
“I helped you,” Hannah spat. “She belonged in an institution.”
Jocelyn listened with growing disbelief. “What did you do?”
“I put her to sleep.”
“You murdered my mother?” Jocelyn’s breath caught in her throat as she gawked at Hannah. “I thought Boynton—”
“You should be grateful.”
Another thought occurred, one that tore at her guts. Had Leo known? The thought didn’t bear thinking about, yet she couldn’t let it go. “Did Leo know?”
“Of course Leo knew,” Hannah said. “It’ll be easier for you to return to London and find another protector without your mother in tow.”
“No.” She recoiled, horror filling her eyes with tears. No, she couldn’t believe it. “How…” she trailed off, unable to complete her sentence.
“Pooh, it was simple to climb up the creepers. The catch on the window is easy to open from the outside. It’s how Ursula used to sneak from the manor.”
“Oh.” Jocelyn gave Hannah a sidelong glance. Did she know who murdered her sister? Her eyebrows shot up and she blinked with incredulity as an idea formed.
Hannah had murdered her sister.
No, that didn’t make sense because she wouldn’t have wanted to implicate Leo. She opened her mouth to ask and thought better of it. She didn’t want to know.
“You shouldn’t have upset Boynton. The man would have secured your future.”
Going anywhere with Boynton would have guaranteed her a life of misery. He’d constantly mocked her plainness and always fucked her in the dark because her face offended him.
“Answer me,” Hannah snapped.
“You didn’t ask a question.”
“Do you want to leave with Boynton? I might be able to talk him around.”
“No, thank you. I’ll return to the manor and wait for Leo to arrive home. He can tell me to leave, if that’s what he wants. I’ll go as soon as I find Tilly.”
“No.” Hannah’s hand shot out to grip her arm with bruising force. “Come with me now.”
“I want to speak with Leo.”
Hannah’s hand whipped out. She struck, snapping Jocelyn’s head back with the force of the blow. “Why doesn’t anyone listen to me?” Her screech rang out, startling her horse. The bay yanked at its reins, snorting, eyes rolling in terror. “No one listens to me. I do the neighborly thing and give you a warning. You should have listened.” With fury glittering in her eyes, she advanced on Jocelyn.
Jocelyn’s jaw throbbed. Tears welled in her eyes and she backed away without taking her gaze off Hannah. The woman was unhinged.
A murderer.
Not looking where she was going, she stumbled. Before she recovered Hannah was on her, hands circling her neck, squeezing.