She was met with a profound silence. Yet somehow, she knew there was someone on the other side of the hedge. She took a few steps, her ears alert for the slightest sound, and again she heard something—had that been the crackle of twigs breaking?
Mary stopped, poised and waiting. From beyond the hedge came only silence. But she was certain now there was someone … something there. It was not the quietude of emptiness, but the heavy, brooding hush of an enforced stillness.
“Who’s there?” she asked sharply. “Answer me!”#p#分页标题#e#
Was that breathing she heard? Mary was too aware of her pulse thudding in her ears to be certain. A faint scent teased at her nostrils, tugging at her memory. The smell of pipe smoke, underlaid with whiskey … Cosmo.
There was a small, sharp crack. Mary whirled and ran back the way she had come. She didn’t know what path she had taken, so she could not retrace her steps. She simply ran as fast as she could, her heart pounding. She turned right or left on impulse, praying that her choices would not lead her straight to the person on the other side of the hedge. Finally she wound up in a bower where rosebushes grew in sweet-smelling abundance along climbing trellises that arched over the path. And there, at the end of the flowery tunnel, the garden opened up. She flew down the path toward it.
A man’s form entered the bower, silhouetted against the light so that she could see only the dark outline of him. With a shriek, she stopped abruptly, sliding on the fallen petals beneath her feet.
“Mary?” The man started forward.
“Royce! Oh, Royce!” Mary ran to him, too relieved to even think of propriety.
At her obvious distress, he broke into a run. Mary threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tightly.
“Mary! What happened? What’s the matter?” Royce’s arms went around her, pressing her to him. “Are you all right?”
Mary nodded and clung to him, luxuriating in the feeling of being safe. But gradually she became aware of the intimacy of their situation. Her body was flush against Royce’s all the way up and down; she could feel his hard bone and muscle pressing into her softer flesh. His strength and warmth surrounded her.
If anyone saw them like this, it would be scandalous. And on the heels of that thought came another: if she remained in his arms much longer, she would be all too likely to raise her head to kiss him. She shuddered and stepped back.
“Are you cold? Here.” He peeled off his jacket and settled it on her shoulders. “Now, tell me what happened.”
“I—it was probably nothing.” With Royce standing beside her, her fears of a moment ago began to seem foolish and exaggerated.
He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You came running at me like the hounds of hell were after you. Don’t tell me that you ran away like that from nothing.”
Mary felt a flush steal up her throat. “Well, yes, I did think—but there wasn’t really any—I was probably just being silly.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened, and then we’ll decide whether it’s silly?”
Mary sighed. “Very well. I was walking, and I wasn’t
really watching where I was going. I was, well …”
“In a high dudgeon?” he suggested.
She smiled faintly. “Yes, that is a fair description. I am sorry that I was snappish with you. I—Miss Dalrymple fairly drives me mad. But that is no excuse—”
“It doesn’t matter. What happened as you walked?”
“I wound up between very high hedges, and I realized that I was lost. So I stopped, trying to decide which way to go, and I—well, I heard a noise.”
“What kind of noise?”
“Nothing frightening, really. Just a rustling, as if someone had brushed against the other side of the hedge or was walking through leaves or—I’m not sure what, but it sounded as if there was someone there. So I called out, thinking they could help me find my way back. I thought perhaps it was a gardener or one of my sisters, come looking for me. But there was no reply. So I started forward again, and I heard something more, or I thought I did, and I called out again. No one answered, but I—it just felt as if there was a person on the other side of the hedge. That probably sounds foolish, but—”#p#分页标题#e#
He shook his head. “No. I know the sensation.”
“A twig snapped, and I took off running.” She was not about to get into the topic of the scent she had smelled or its relation to her stepfather. “I didn’t know where I was going. Then you came along.” Mary shrugged. “I am sorry that I threw myself at you. You must think me hysterical.”