Tutoring Miss Molly (18 page)

The sound of his footsteps was close behind, but she did not look back. She had to outrun him. It was her only chance. Her long legs pushed her forward, and for once, she was grateful for the hard life of labor on the farm.

“Molly,” he shouted from a slight distance.

Hope lightened her heart. She was losing him.

She skidded down an embankment and ran across a low creek bed. Water splashed on her gown, soaking her shoes. With all her might, she climbed the rocky wall to the top—a sharp inner ache stabbing her sides.

“Molly!” Kenneth shouted from across the mound.

She turned to look at him with her hand over her ribs, trying to suck humid air into her burning throat.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his arms thrown wide. “I own all this land. You cannot escape me.”

“Please,” she panted, “just leave me alone.”

He gave her a sinister smile that made her blood cold.

Two arms snaked around her from behind. She tried to struggle loose, but it was as if the arms were made of steel.

* * * *

Ever since Devlin left Molly, an unsettling omen at the back of his mind refused to be quiet. Was he just being jealous? He forced his thoughts to return to the figures in his ledger. The silence of his personal chambers helped little in focusing.

A blood-curdling scream rented the stillness.

“Molly!” Devlin pushed to his feet, knocking over an inkbottle. He rushed into the hallway and through to the foyer.

Several guests turned to him with bewilderment on their faces. “Where did that scream come from?”

They shrugged their shoulders, staring at each other.

A maid flew down the wide staircase, sobbing. She ran into his arms and collapsed into a faint. He shook her limp body. “Annie, wake up, wake up.”

Her light eyelashes fluttered open, her pale face haunted with fear. “My lord, it’s…it’s Yvette. She is in the Lily Room.”

“What about her?”

“She is dead.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Let me go!” Molly squirmed within the tight grasp.

“Hold her there,” Kenneth shouted, sliding down the creek bed.

“As you wish, my lord,” the butler replied.

Molly swore under her breath. Of all the servants, it had to be the one who hated her the most. Through a forced smile, she said in a sweet voice, “It’s Joves, isn’t it? Please, let me go. Lord Kenneth is not well.”

His fingernails dug into her flesh and he shook her hard. “Do not disparage his name! You are unfit to be in his attendance.”

Her head snapped back and forth so many times spots appeared before her.

“That will do,” Kenneth snarled.

The butler pushed her into Kenneth’s open arms, and he collected her against his chest. For the moment, she was almost glad for the safety of her crazed captor.

Dizziness threatened to overwhelm her, but she was able to keep her feet when they escorted her further into the woods. Just when she thought they would walk forever, a thatch-roof cottage appeared among low hanging trees. If she was not directed to the hidden abode, she would have walked right past.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“This used to be a hunter’s lodge, but nobody comes here anymore. Not since…” He exchanged a heated look with Joves, and the old man withered beneath his stare. “Not since my mother killed herself here.”

Kenneth pushed her inside the sparse and dusty cottage. The shadows cast an oppressive feel to the room. A menacing chill ran down her spine.

“Take me back to the manor,” she ordered, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

Kenneth lit one of the brass lanterns and replaced the glass cover. The flame cast an eerie glow to his handsome features. “You will not be returning to the manor.”

“Take me back!” she screamed.

Joves slapped her across the face. Her cheek burned with his imprint, while her throat knotted with fright and anger.

“Leave us,” Kenneth ordered the butler.

Joves replied, “But what about—”

“Do not worry about her.”

The butler opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Hanging his head, he left through the only door.

Kenneth reached out to touch Molly’s cheek, but she pulled away.

“I am sorry about that,” he said, and lowered his hand into a clenched fist. “No one should ever mar that soft skin of yours.”

She touched his shoulder. “You have got to let me go. Devlin will—”

“Will receive a note saying you have left because your aunt needed you.”

“You cannot do this,” she whispered. “You cannot keep me here forever.”

He stepped closer. The sour scent of his breath fanned her face. “I gave you an opportunity to be my mistress. You could have had anything, but you threw it all away,” he said, his voice rising.

Panic tightened within. She tried to think quickly. “You—you have shown me that I was foolish to think Devlin would be interested in me.” She turned her back on him and laughed uncomfortably. “He…he doesn’t even like courtesans.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and returned to him. Placing her hand on his chest, she pressed herself against him. “He maybe next in the noble line, but you are by far the better brother.”

A mirror of emotions crossed his face. He peered into her eyes, searching for the truth. Molly held her breath, keeping her gaze steady.

 Kenneth leaned down, his lips were about to touch hers.

“My lord,” Joves snapped.

“Yes!”

“May I have a word with you outside?”

Reluctantly, Kenneth gave her a courtly bow as if they were in a grand ballroom. He closed the door behind him, leaving only the meager light from the oil lantern to illuminate the creepy room. There were no windows or openings of any kind beside the front door. Spider webs hung from the corners of the thatched-roof. Rat prints disturbed the layer of dust on an aged wooden table, while droppings littered the musty rushes on the floor.

Sounds of an intense argument drifted through the cracks in the timber door. Leaning against the wall, she tried to peek outside.

“We are supposed to kill her,” Joves’ lips puckered with displeasure.

Molly gasped. A surge of terror threatened her fragile control.

Kenneth took a deep breath. “Let me handle it. Go back to the manor and keep a secure eye on my brother.”

The butler nodded. “Remember, that whore is not worth losing everything.”

“Go,” he coolly replied.

Joves left and Kenneth walked out of her line of sight. She shifted around, but still could not see him. The sound of boots crunched upon dry grass. Suddenly, he came back into view. His hands held a thick rope, and he tightened it with a snap. His eyes were dark and soulless, unwavering.

She backed away from the door. Her breath solidified in her lungs.

He was going to kill her!

Chapter Fifteen

Devlin sprinted up the stairs two at a time. Had Molly returned? Did she witness the murder? Who would have done such a thing to Yvette?

The questions drove him wild with worry. He ran into Molly’s room and looked around. It was empty. He was about to call for the maid when he saw two black boots lying on the terrace, the rest of the body hidden beyond the wall.

Slowly, he walked outside.

Yvette lay in a pool of blood. Her once vibrant eyes now glazed with cold death. A hand lay on his shoulder and Devlin jerked. His father stared at Yvette. Remorse and anger etched on his face. “Who did this?”

“I do not know.”

“Where is Miss Molly?”

“I left her with Kenneth a while ago.” Devlin leaned on the railing and stared at the lake in the distance. No one walked on its shores. Where was she?

Audrey walked into the room ahead of the other guests, their curious faces eager for excitement. They crowded the small terrace, gawking at Yvette and jostling Devlin for a better look.

“Everyone, out!” Devlin commanded.

Audrey seemed unfazed by his outburst. “That new courtesan must have stabbed her maid in the back.”

Ladies gasped aloud and gentlemen nodded their heads.

“See here, there is a note on the bed.” One of the male guests held a pink letter in the air.

His father pushed his way through the crowd and snatched the letter. “It says, ‘Dear Devlin, I am sorry but I must leave. My aunt is in need of me. Miss Molly Cambridge’.”

Everyone talked at once while Devlin searched for a plausible explanation. “Father,” Devlin shouted over the noise. “Molly could not have done this. She adored Yvette.”

“I heard them arguing this morning,” Audrey interjected and everyone grew quiet.

“What did they argue about?” the duke asked.

“The courtesan sounded upset that Yvette pleasured Devlin when he took her to a secluded place near the cliffs.” She glanced at Devlin with a smug smile.

“Is this true? Did the three of you go to the cliffs?” his father asked.

“Yes, Yvette helped me tutor Molly.”

“That is why she was so angry,” Audrey added.

“No, she was not angry. She excelled at following Yvette’s lead.” Devlin continued, “Molly is innocent.”

“We will let the constable investigate,” the duke said. “Come on, everyone outside.”

Audrey snaked her arm within Devlin’s elbow. “Who knew that
sweet
girl was a killer.”

“That letter is no proof she murdered Yvette.” Devlin unhooked his arm.

“Who cares,” Audrey shrugged. “Come Devlin, when are you going to admit it? We belong together. Honor the marriage contract and I will make you
very
happy.”

She boldly rubbed her bejeweled hand against his member, squashing her breasts upon his chest. “I think we should get married in London. It’s very fashionable this time of year.”

He shoved her hand aside. “You are thinking about fashion when a girl lies dead on the terrace?”

Audrey shrugged. “She was only a servant.”

“I am not going to marry you. Now or ever.” Devlin threw his hands up and stormed out of the room before he said something he would regret.

Grabbing his jacket from his room, he strode downstairs and passed the parlor doors.