A Kiss with Scandal (Scandals & Secrets 4)(17)

Heavens, how could a man smell so good? Most of the men of her  acquaintance were sweaty or drenched in a sickly sweet smell they'd  procured from a scent shop. Granted, she'd never interacted with men  beyond social gatherings where rooms were too small and the crowds too  large. Her father's fragrance never smelled unpleasant. And neither had  her brother-in-law, now that she thought of it. Although she couldn't  recall ever wanting to saturate herself with their unique smells.

Oblivious to her thoughts, Derek said, "We should start here, with a  ream of cherry ribbon. I have a feeling whoever goes to the shop will  buy them out so others can't claim a piece."

Charlotte frowned. "I wouldn't do that."

"But I would."

She guffawed. "That has to be cheating."

"It's not. The rules do not forbid clearing them out. This game can get  ruthless. The shopkeepers never complain. We try to include several  items on our list that can only be found in town. That way our local  economy benefits." He held out his arm for her. "Shall we? I know a  shortcut."

Charlotte slipped her hand through his arm and relished the zing that  shot through her at the pleasure of touching him. It felt right,  comfortable. Almost like she'd always held onto him. Or always would.

"We'll cut through the woods. There's a path not far from here. Will that be all right?" He eyed her light pink gown.

"It'll be fine. My maid is a genius at working out stains. I'm  embarrassed to say she's had a lot of practice." She perused his  bark-colored jacket in envy. It would hide dirt better than her riding  habit on a good day. Men were so lucky.

"Excellent."

They didn't run exactly, but before she knew it, she was skipping every  few steps to keep up with Derek's long-legged stride. She giggled. "Do  you plan on having me run after you in a moment?"

His steps slowed with a sheepish grin. "Forgive me. I might be a bit more competitive than most."

She could see why. He was used to meticulously gathering details before  zeroing in on a suspect. He captured those in his sights and brought  them to justice. He was used to hunting, whether it was people or  hatpins.

But what else does he have? she wondered as he led her through a smooth path.

His sister married not that long ago, and both his parents had passed  away. There were plenty of people on the estate, but she knew it was  hard to form deep connections with staff. For all she could see, he was  alone. Truly alone. Maybe he had to be because of what he did, but  Charlotte wasn't so sure. Everyone had someone. But maybe this made it  easier for him. He didn't have someone he worried about. Someone he must  protect.

Someone like her.

She didn't want to be a burden on him, though. "Would you teach me how  to shoot?" He slowed to a stop, giving her his full attention. "If  something happened, and for some reason you weren't there, I'd like to  be able to defend myself." She reached for a leaf beside her, shredding  it as the conversation shredded her nerves.                       
       
           



       

"Do you have a weapon?"

"No. But I could get one. Perhaps there's a shop that sells small guns?"

His lips pursed. "There's no weapon smith in this town, but I have something that could work. It could fit in your reticule."

Her eyes flew to his. "Really? You'd consider teaching me?"

"Of course. I think it's a brilliant idea. You should be prepared in  every way." He took her hand and threaded it through his arm before  continuing down the path.

Charlotte couldn't speak. Gratitude filled her as she thought of how  much he'd given her, of how much he was still willing to give. Shooting  wasn't a feminine sport, and most men would have laughed at her request.  But not Derek. He respected her and seemed to have no problems crossing  the lines of propriety to do what needed to be done. What other man  could compare?

He was exciting, thrilling. And unlike any other man of her  acquaintance. Married life had seemed so lifeless, so boring before. But  a life with Derek would be anything but.

She choked. Sugar lumps! She needed to get ahold of herself.

His arm shot out in front of her, stopping her movement. "Wait," he whispered, scanning the trees.

His muscles tensed, and it was only then she realized the world had gone  silent. No birds called from the sky, no crickets sounded, no mice  streaked through shrubs. Her breaths shallow, she strained to hear  something. Anything.

"Stay behind me."

He pushed her gently behind him, and her face burrowed in his back as  she nodded. He unsheathed a knife in his boot as he led her down the  path, one painstaking step at a time.

Her heart raced, the pounding echoing in her ears. The soft light  filtering through the tree branches wasn't idyllic anymore. It  threatened. Someone hid behind those same branches. Someone hunted her  in these woods as a gamekeeper would a fox.

Derek protected her, but who protected him? He only had a knife. What use would it be against an attacker armed with a gun?

She was a coward, hiding behind Derek's back like a scared ninny. She  hated that about herself, but maybe for once, it was okay to be scared.  Perhaps it wasn't always bad to lean on someone else.

Derek had kept her safe thus far. She knew he always would if he could.

Derek stilled his progress, cocking an ear. His muscles relaxed. "They're gone."

She peeked around him. "Who was it?"

"I don't know." He sheathed his knife.

"Could it have been someone from the group?"

"Maybe. But if it were, they would have called to us. Whoever was out there watched us, taking great care to remain unseen."

Ice raced through her veins.

His hand raked through his hair. "I was wrong to bring us through here.  From now on, we'll stay with the rest of the group." He took her hand  and pulled her the few feet down the path until they were out of the  trees and into a sunlit field.

The town on the opposite side was picturesque, confounding her after what had just happened in the woods.

"We'll finish the hunt, but tomorrow, your training begins."

Her eyes widened. "Training?"

He nodded grimly. "There are a few other things you should know besides how to shoot a pistol."

"All right," she hesitantly agreed. What other things did she need to know?





Chapter 13





Most of the guests went to the village that afternoon. But not Charlotte.

Derek watched, waited until she was completely alone to go to her. He  needed others oblivious to where she'd gone. What she'd be doing. Only  then would it be safe.

"Follow me."

A shiver skated over her Charlotte's skin, but her hands steadied on the  book she held. She hadn't turned a page in ten minutes. Not that he'd  been watching that closely. He'd been trained to pick up on those  things.

She'd been waiting for this, for him, in the library for the last hour.

He led the way without hesitation, glancing over his shoulder once before opening another secret passageway behind a bookshelf.

She gasped in wonder, and he wanted to smile. No doubt his estate seemed  magical to her. Growing up, it had to him as well. At least the  passages had.

He placed a finger over his lips, urging her to remain quiet. This  section of tunnels echoed, and he didn't want to draw anyone's notice.

He maneuvered through the maze, taking his time to teach her the route  to a musty room. It never occurred to him to decorate the austere space.  He only used it for one purpose and one alone.

Training.

Frills would only distract from his work.

"You may speak freely here. The room is soundproof." He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto a crude wooden chair.                       
       
           



       

She wandered the room, eyeing glass bottles in all shapes and colors and an assortment of tools that lay on a scarred worktable.

"What is this place?" she asked, reaching for a curved knife. "It isn't … "

A smile tugged at his cheek. "A torture chamber?" He laughed when she  gulped. "No. No torture has occurred within these walls. At least not by  my hand."

"Oh. Then, what is all this?"

He grabbed her wrist before she could touch an amber bottle. "Poison."

Her hand fell limp. "Poison? All of it?"

There were at least one hundred jars on the shelf. A fine collection,  but what she didn't realize was that it was only a portion of what he  owned. "Most. Yes. And antidotes."

She wrung her hands. "Who would need so much?"

"A spy?" he suggested wryly, delighted when pink tinged her cheeks. She  was so fresh in her reactions. So charming. He'd truly thought people  like her didn't exist. In the world he moved within, no one had genuine  reactions. No one was innocent. There was death, violence, and greed. No  true beauty, modesty, or integrity.