What was Nicola worried about? She was all grown up now, no longer the child he'd harmlessly indulged. But she was still innocent when it came to men.
He'd slit Somersby's throat from ear to ear if he ever stole her innocence. It wasn't merely a matter of completing the act of joining their bodies. Her innocence could be stolen in so many ways. By breaking her spirit. Teaching her to fear him. Raising a hand to Nicola.
John would kill Somersby if he ever did that.
Lady Darnley coughed and stepped between him and the marquis, for the hatred between them was palpable and caused the air around them to sizzle like a bolt of lightning about to strike. She obviously meant to distract them before they came to blows. "Poor Nicola has lost her favorite locket. You know the one, Bainbridge. The one you and Julian brought home as a gift for Nicola from the Scarborough fair."
"Of course, I remember it." He arched an eyebrow, for he'd never given her any such gift nor ever been to that fair. "Her favorite."
"I'm quite distraught about it," Nicola said. "I'm sure it must have fallen in Lord Somersby's garden, but I'm not certain where. Perhaps in one of the flower beds. Or in the pond. It might have fallen when I tripped over that old tree stump at the foot of the garden walk. I'll look for it first thing in the morning."
One of Lady Darnley's friends who happened to be passing by and caught some of her conversation cast her a sympathetic glance. "I'm certain Somersby will find it for you. If he can't, he'll buy you a very pretty replacement."
"A diamond-studded replacement," another of their friends intoned, casting Nicola a knowing smile.
John frowned. Since he and Julian had never been to that fair nor had he or Julian ever bought his sister a locket, what was Nicola telling him?
Lord, he was a dolt. She and Rose used to hide messages within knotholes in trees. She'd hidden something in the tree stump for him to find. Bollocks.
That's why he hadn't seen her earlier.
She'd been out in the garden, planting it inside the tree for him to find.
What had she put in there?
And how much time did they have before Somersby realized she'd stolen this thing of importance from under his nose?
After a suitable time had passed, John made his way through the crowd toward the terrace doors. He moved slowly, stopping to greet other friends and acquaintances. Jordan happened to be standing quietly beside those doors, his back to the wall while he nursed a scotch in his hand.
"I'll have one of those," John said, asking one of Somersby's footmen to bring him a glass. The man seemed to be lingering beside him and Jordan, no doubt instructed to listen to their every word.
John had no intention of dulling his mind with spirits, but this was the plausible excuse he needed to send the man off on a useless errand and out of earshot. "Nicola's hidden something in a tree stump in the garden."
"A secret message? Asking for our help? She doesn't appear to be in distress."
"She's scared. Somersby's having us watched. I need you to create a distraction while I retrieve it."
Jordan grinned and curled his hands into fists. "It will be my pleasure."
John scanned the crowd for another glimpse of Nicola to be certain she was safely in the company of her aunt and uncle. "I'll slip out while everyone's attention is on you."
"I always love a good brawl at a party. Here goes." He shouldered his way through the crowd.
It wasn't long before John heard the clatter of a tray hitting the floor, soon followed by the tinkling sound of shattered glass. "You Scottish bounder! You knocked that tray onto me on purpose," the bellicose Lord Whitney shouted and took a swing at Jordan. No doubt this was why Jordan had chosen him as the target. The man had a short fuse, especially when drunk as he obviously was now.
A roar sprang from the crowd and everyone rushed forward to see the fight that had just erupted.
John silently stole out through the terrace doors, but he'd hardly made it down the steps into the garden before someone quietly called his name. He heard soft breaths and light footsteps behind him. "John, let me show you where I hid his book. There isn't much time. You need to grab it and ride away as fast as you can."
"What book? Nicola, so help me … " That usual feeling came over him, the one where he wanted to throttle her and at the same time kiss her into eternity. He took her hand instead, wanting to keep her close as she led him hurriedly toward the gnarled remains of an old tree. "Damn it, Nicola. What's in that book?"
"I'm not sure. Lots of foreign names, as well as dates and numbers. It's written in code so I couldn't make any of it out. It was hidden in a secret drawer that he kept locked."
John groaned. "A secret drawer?"
She nodded impatiently. "Yes, that he kept locked," she repeated. "Aunt Bess was helping me search and she found it. Don't ask me how she knows about such things or how she managed to pry the lock open without breaking it. I think my aunt and uncle led secret lives in their younger days. I'm tame compared to them."
"Tame? You are reckless to a fault." But he kept hold of her hand and gave it a light squeeze. "Go back inside. Stay close to your aunt and uncle. Pretend you don't know anything. Somersby will blame me for the theft and come after me."
"I know you'll lead him a merry chase." She spoke in a breathless whisper as they continued through the garden and finally reached the old stump. She reached into its hollow trunk and withdrew what appeared to John to be an elegantly bound book. She stuffed it into his hands, reached up on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "Godspeed, John. Don't worry about us. My aunt packs pistols."
The light press of her body against his sent a jolt of excitement through him. He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss his way down … he'd leave that thought for later. Someone was coming. "Hush, Nicola."
He grabbed her hand once more and hastily led her to a nearby thicket to hide. The sharp branches, he realized, were cutting into her skin. To her credit, she made no protest. Not a sound, although it had to hurt. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, hoping the sturdy cloth would offer some protection.
"He came out here, my lord. I'm sure of it," one of Somersby's footmen said, scanning the surrounding shrubbery for sign of him. But it was dark and one could hardly see one's own hand. The marquis and several more footmen were now standing beside the tree stump, unaware of what had been hidden there only moments ago.
"Damn it. Find him." Somersby let loose with a string of curses. "I want Bainbridge dead."
"But, my lord. The plan … we can't do this. He's an earl."
"Do you dare question me? I don't care about any agreed upon plan. Kill him and toss his body into Loch Linnhe or it'll be yours that's tossed in first. Let the currents sweep him out to sea."
John put a finger to Nicola's lips to signal her to be quiet. He needn't have worried. He doubted the girl was able to breathe, she was that scared. He drew his hand away and wrapped his arm around her trembling shoulders.
She rested her head against his chest and nodded.
Although Somersby's footmen held their lanterns high as they conducted a sweeping search of the area, he and Nicola managed to remain hidden in the shadows. The marquis was about to leave his men and return to the lodge when another of his hired ruffians came running out, calling to him in panic. "The book is missing."
Somersby clutched his heart in that moment. "No. It isn't possible."
"Your betrothed is missing, too."
Somersby snapped. "Find them! Find them and kill them both! What are you waiting for? Don't let them get away!"
Blessed Mother. What was in this book?
Nicola glanced up at him, her eyes wide with fear.
John waited a moment longer to be certain they were alone in the garden, then he eased her away from the thicket. "You're coming with me."
"Where?" she asked, trying her best not to stumble in the darkness as he dragged her toward the stable where his horse remained at the ready. He wanted to take Jordan's horse for Nicola, but that would leave Jordan trapped. Besides, Nicola was not a good enough rider to manage a gallop on horseback in the dark of night, not on a horse she'd never ridden over terrain that was not familiar to her.
He had no choice but to have her ride with him.
"We're going to Inverness and from there to Edinburgh. I'll leave you with the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards. You'll be safe in their hands."
"You're going to leave me there?"
John ignored the plaintive tone in her question. "Somersby is desperate to recover this book. I don't know what it contains, but I suspect it is something important to the Crown. If so, I'll need to get it to London and into the hands of the Prince Regent as soon as possible. I can travel faster on my own. But first, I need to make certain you are safe. The regimental commander will protect you while I'm gone."