“But we need you here, Cousin Oliver,” Mary protested. “I thought we’d stage a scene, something to capture the kidnapper’s attention—or that the servants will hear, in case one of them is spying for him.”
Oliver stiffened. “You think one of my people is a traitor?”
“No. I mean, I have nothing to show that anyone is. But it seems possible.”
“You have to admit, Stewkesbury, that he has seemed quite well informed of the girls’ whereabouts,” Royce put in. “Perhaps it’s just from spying, but …”
“Yes, all right. What is it you want to do?”
“We could have an argument on the terrace. Someplace very visible to someone watching the house.”
A pained expression crossed Oliver’s face. “Loud and histrionic. Lovely.” He sighed. “Very well. We will stage an argument on the terrace for all to see.”
“Then Rose and I will set out. And …” Mary shrugged. “We’ll capture him.”
Fitz grinned. “Of course we will. You know, Willowmere has been much more entertaining since you girls arrived.”
“I could do with a little less entertainment,” the earl said dryly.
Oliver brought in a map of the estate from his office, and they used it to finalize their plans, going over exactly where each person would be and what he or she would do. At last the earl rose, shoving back his chair.
“It is set, then. Treadwell, I expect it’s easiest if you spend the night here. I’ll have a room made up for you. Royce and Fitz, I presume you will leave later tonight and spend the night in the mill. You lookouts will go early tomorrow morning while it’s still dark.” He glanced around and was met with nods. He turned to Mary and Rose. “And you, cousins, I will see tomorrow morning.”
They retired early, none of them having any desire to sit in the drawing room making small talk. However, Mary had few hopes of falling asleep quickly. She changed into her night rail and dressing gown, then sat down to read, but she could not concentrate on the words. Her mind kept skittering around, going first to Royce, then to the day awaiting her, then to the man who had shot at her sisters. Were they wrong not to tell the earl about their stepfather? What if it was him? What if they could not control him?
She thought about how Royce had spoken up for her and her sisters, and a smile curved her lips. What if Vivian was right in what she said, if Royce’s repeated offers of marriage meant that he was driven by something more than duty or honor? Could there be some knot of feeling for her inside him, perhaps not yet love, but something that, if nurtured, could grow into love? Was that enough to risk the rest of her life on?#p#分页标题#e#
Mary glanced up at the clock on the mantel. She wondered when Royce and Fitz were leaving for the mill. She had not said good-bye to Royce, had not even wished him well. Nothing would happen to him tomorrow, of course. Nor to her. But she could not stop the little crawl of anxiety through her stomach. Going to her door, she opened it and peered out into the corridor. There was no sound, no movement. She glanced the other way up the corridor. Light shone beneath Royce’s door.
She hesitated for an instant, then flew down the hall on her tiptoes. Stopping to glance around her again, she tapped softly at Royce’s door. When he responded with a call to enter, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her.
Royce was standing in front of the walnut dresser, shirtless, looking into a drawer. He turned at the sound and froze when he saw her. “Mary!” His eyes lit and he took a step toward her, then stopped. “Are you mad? What are you doing here?” His voice dropped almost to a whisper, and he crossed the room to her in a few quick strides.
“I-I came to tell you something.” Mary’s eyes dropped to his chest, taking in the broad expanse of skin, the light brown hairs curling across his chest in an inverted V, dwindling into a line that ran down his stomach and disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. Her breath caught, and she was aware of a strong urge to reach out and tangle her fingers through the curling hairs.
Letting out a curse, Royce turned away, grabbing his shirt and shrugging into it. “You shouldn’t be here,” he told her gruffly. “If anyone saw you, your reputation would be ruined.”
“Then you would win; I’d have to marry you, wouldn’t I?”
Royce scowled at her. “I’m not trying to win . Blast it, Mary!” He stopped and drew a breath, running his hand back through his hair. Stepping around her, he turned the key in the door and swiveled back to her. “All right. What did you want to tell me? I haven’t much time. I have to meet Fitz downstairs in a few minutes. And, for my sake if not your own, pray keep your voice down.”