Unlacing the Innocent Miss. Margaret McPhee

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СКАЧАТЬ eyed the table dubiously and made no move. ‘Who are you, sir, and why have you abducted me?’

      ‘You already know the answers to both of those questions, Miss Meadowfield,’ he said and did not even look up from his ale.

      ‘You are from Lord Evedon.’

      ‘You see, you do know, after all.’ He looked at her and smiled cynically.

      ‘I am surmising that, from Mr Kempster’s presence.’

      ‘Then you surmise correctly, miss.’

      She met his gaze and he could see the suspicion and fear in her eyes. ‘Why has he sent you?’

      Wolf raised an eyebrow. ‘Yet another question to which you already know the answer.’

      She swallowed hard and gave a small shake of her head. ‘I beg to differ, sir. What is his intention?’

      She knew. He was sure of it, yet he told her bluntly. ‘Unsurprisingly, his intention is the capture of the woman who stole his mother’s jewels.’

      She made a small sound that was something between a laugh and a sigh of disbelief. ‘And he has sent you to fetch me back to him?’

      ‘You did not think that he would let you go free after stealing from him, did you?’ Wolf watched her closely.

      She glanced away but not before he had seen the guilt in her eyes. ‘Lord Evedon is mistaken. I am no thief.’ Her hand fluttered nervously to her mouth.

      She was lying, and Wolf knew all about lying and the ways in which people gave themselves away.

      ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘and I suppose that is why he is paying such a generous sum for the recovery of you and the emeralds.’

      ‘I have already told you sir, I did not steal the emeralds.’

      ‘Just the diamonds that were found within your chamber.’

      ‘I have no knowledge of how the diamonds came to be so hidden. Some other hand must have placed them there.’

      ‘That is what they all say.’

      ‘It is the truth.’ She held her head high as if she were innocent, acting every inch a lady wronged. It irritated Wolf.

      ‘Stealing from the dowager while you were acting as her companion.’ He made a tut-tut sound. ‘Such behaviour is to be expected from low-class riffraff such as myself, but better is expected of the likes of you. All your pa’s money not enough for you, Miss Meadowfield, that you had to rob Evedon’s old sick mam? No wonder he’s mad at you.’

      Normally by now they were trying to bargain with him, swearing their very souls to the devil and offering Wolf the world if they thought it would win their freedom. But Wolf had never retrieved a lady before. He wondered what Rosalind Meadowfield would offer him. Her rich father’s money, or something else? He let his eyes range over the shapeless cloak that hid the figure beneath. Not that he would accept her offer, of course; he never did. Wolf hated the idea of being bought as much as he hated women like Miss Meadowfield.

      ‘I am innocent.’

      Wolf gave a dry humourless laugh. ‘Of course, you are.’ He placed a slice of ham upon a piece of bread and, watching her surreptitiously as if he had not the slightest interest, began to eat.

      The colour had drained from the woman’s face to render it pale as she leaned back against the whitewashed wall as though to merge into it and disappear, her eyes staring into the fire.

      ‘Mr Stewart is expecting me. He shall enquire as to my absence.’

      ‘Mr Stewart has been informed of your situation,’ said Wolf coldly.

      ‘What did you tell him?’ Her expression was pained.

      ‘I told him nothing.’ Wolf chewed at his bread. ‘Evedon has taken care of Hunter.’

      She seemed to sag slightly against the wall. ‘As he means to take care of me.’ Her gaze was distant and her words were whispered so quietly that he only just heard them.

      Wolf did not allow himself to soften. She had made her bed, and now she must lie in it, he thought. He had finished his food before she spoke again.

      ‘How did you find me?’

      ‘You left behind the newspaper. It was not difficult to discover which advertisement you had torn from it.’

      She closed her eyes at that and was silent. When she opened them again she asked, ‘Who are you Mr Wolversley? What are you? A Bow Street runner?’

      ‘Nothing so official. Just a man that Evedon is paying to deliver you back to him.’ He noticed how Kempster watched her.

      Campbell sipped from the battered mug, an amused expression upon his face. ‘Ocht, he’s just being modest. We’re in the retrieval business, so to speak, and we’re mighty good at retrieving. Some might call us thief-takers, Miss Meadowfield.’

      ‘Do not take me back to him…please.’ She spoke the words quietly.

      The Scotsman gave her a contrite smile. ‘I’m afraid that’s our job, lassie.’

      ‘Save your pleading for Evedon, Miss Meadow-field,’ said Wolf. ‘It is most assuredly wasted upon us.’

      Campbell glanced away, an expression of awkwardness on his face.

      Wolf took another sip of his ale. Her greed would cost her dear, he thought, but that was not his or Struan’s problem to worry over, besides her type deserved to pay the price. He glanced round at the woman.

      ‘Our journey starts at first light. You are returning to London come what may, Miss Meadowfield. I care not whether you eat, but be warned that starving yourself into a faint shall not delay our progress. I’ll tie you across my saddle if I have to.’

      Wolf said nothing more, just turned his attention to Campbell and Kempster, conversing with them in low tones, while the woman made her way hesitantly across the room to sit down upon a stool at the table and eat a little of the remaining bread, ham and cheese, all the while keeping a cautious eye on her captors.

      Rosalind watched uneasily while the men made up makeshift blanket beds, rolling out four grey blankets side by side over the bare wooden floorboards before the fireplace. Her eyes measured the distance between her stool and the cottage door.

      ‘Do not even think about it.’ She heard the warning that edged Wolf’s voice.

      The pale eyes glanced up from where he had removed the chairs and was laying his coat out as a bed-cover in their place, and she wondered how he had known what she was thinking.

      Rosalind did not move, just sat there, with a growing anxiety, watching their movements. She knew little about men. Her brother had long since disappeared, and with the disgrace of her father’s execution and the lack of money, there had never been any question of a Season for either her or her sister. Her experience of men was limited to the few older gentlemen she met as Lady СКАЧАТЬ