A Lady Never Tells(134)

“You think the attacker watched them ride out from there?” Mary looked speculatively at the hill.

“It seems reasonable to me. With an instrument such as this”—he waggled the small telescope—“he could keep a very good eye on everything going on.”

“Then let’s go up there.”

He hesitated, then said, “All right, but ride behind me. And if I tell you to get down or to do anything else, promise you will do it.”

Mary frowned, and he added, “Otherwise, I will return by myself tomorrow to investigate.”

Mary sighed. “Very well, I agree.”

She did as he asked, staying behind him as their horses picked their way up the trail to the top of the bluff. As they drew closer, she could see the tumbled stones of the ancient ruin. Royce had taken his reins in his left hand and pulled out his pistol, carrying it at the ready. Mary followed his example. It was almost eerily silent at the top of the hill. Mary turned to look out across the vista. Royce was right. She could see the house and gardens and the lands around them with clarity, even without the aid of an optical instrument. With one, she was sure she could have picked out individuals on the grounds.

Royce dismounted and gave her his hand to help her down. They walked to a low flat rock near the edge of the cliff. Looking down at the ground, Mary could see the imprint of a shoe here and there. But that did not mean their attacker had been here. Surely people came here from time to time to look at the view.

“Look at the scuff marks.” Royce pointed to the edge of the rock and the ground beside it. “Someone’s been here. Good place to lie down and brace your hands on the rock to steady your telescope.”

They continued to walk, moving back from the edge of the hill and weaving their way through the fallen stones and low walls.

“Sir Royce!” one of the grooms called excitedly.

Royce and Mary hurried in his direction. They found him standing in a sheltered corner of the ruin where two of the partial walls came together.

The earth in the area had clearly been disturbed. Holes had been driven into the ground in a distinct square pattern, and the dirt was scuffed and the grass flattened inside the square.

“A tent has been here. And a fire.” Mary pointed to the ring of stones, filled with blackened ashes.

Royce nodded, his mouth pulled into a taut, grim line. “No wonder we heard no gossip of a stranger in the village. He’s been camping out up here. Watching our every move.”#p#分页标题#e#

“And look!” Mary spotted an object lying in the shadow, up against one of the walls. She picked it up and turned to show it to Royce. It was the leather satchel that had held all their papers, now empty and discarded. “My case!”





Chapter 24




The house was abuzz with news of the discovery Mary and Royce had made atop Beacon Hill. Maids whispered about it in the hallways, and Miss Dalrymple described at length the palpitations it gave her. Even the invitation to Lady Sabrina’s ball could not overshadow the idea that someone had been spying on Willowmere. Lord Stewkesbury insisted that the girls not ride unless accompanied by himself, Royce, or Fitz as well as a groom, and he increased the number of men patrolling the perimeter of the grounds both night and day.

“I feel as if I am living in an armed camp,” Mary grumbled as she left the house a few days later to take a walk in the garden. Royce, hearing her intention, had insisted on accompanying her. “I can’t imagine why I need an escort as well.”

“Do you really want to entrust your life to a gardener patrolling the grounds?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mary sighed. “Well, come along if you must.”

“How could I refuse such a gracious invitation?”

She could not help but smile. “I am sorry. I shall strive to be a more pleasant companion.”

“There is no need. I have become quite accustomed to you.”

That remark brought forth a full laugh from her.

He smiled. “There. That is better. It has been too long since I have heard you laugh.”

She glanced at him, surprised.

“Did you think I hadn’t noticed?” he asked softly. “Did you think I did not realize that I have been the cause of your unhappiness?”

“No, I will not lay that upon you,” she told him quickly.

“You do not need to. I know what I see. And why.” He took her hand, raising it and softly pressing his lips upon the back of it. “I would go back and undo what I have done if I could. I would not have you unhappy.”

Mary felt the color rise in her cheeks, and she glanced away, flustered—as much from the feel of his lips upon her skin as from his words.