Page 114 of A Single Obsession

“I refused to believe a lady could control such a horse—but I was wrong.”

“Anthony realised—and has teased me about it ever since.”

“Do you appreciate how jealous you made me, laughing with him when you withheld your smiles from me?”

“Jealous of Anthony? How absurd. Why, he’s like a brother to me.”

Beau did not think it helpful to tell her just how unbrotherly his friend’s feelings toward her had been. Anyway, that was a thing of the past. It must be. Eliza was going to marry him.

“I’ll need to borrow a pair of…um…inexpressibles,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes as the colour rushed to her face. “I don’t think I can climb down in this dress.”

Beau’s mouth dropped open, and in silence, he retrieved some breeches from his dressing room and handed them to Eliza. She disappeared from view and, as she returned a few moments later without them, he assumed she had put them on underneath her petticoats. What a remarkable woman she was!

“You’ll have to undo my dress,” she whispered, turning away from him as another wave of colour flooded her cheeks.

Beau’s fingers fumbled with the buttons as he tried to concentrate on the urgency of the situation, and not on what he was doing. If anyone discovered them now, they would have good reason to suppose he had compromised her. He needed to get her out of here. Fast.

As soon as he finished, he fled to the window, eased himself over the sill and climbed down the sheet rope. He dropped safely onto the roof of the portico and looked up just in time to avoid being hit by his boots, which came flying out of the window after him. Eliza continued to bombard him with pieces of clothing—his jacket followed by her shoes, hat and pelisse—and finally her dress, which spread out like a parachute over his head.

Beau was still struggling to disentangle himself when his intrepid bride landed beside him. Her cheeks blazing with colour, she grabbed her robe and threw it over the edge before scampering to the end of the portico’s roof and climbing down the wisteria.

By the time he had thrown down the rest of the clothes and joined her, Eliza was standing with her back to him, waiting for him to button up her dress.

Unable to resist, he placed a kiss on the bare skin at the bottom of her neck, and she shivered delightfully under his touch.

“I think we should marry soon,” he said in a voice husky with emotion as he refastened her dress.

“I agree.”

They gathered their scattered garments and while they made themselves respectable, Beau contemplated what they should do. “I need some answers.”

He took her hand and led her to a small clump of trees near the stables. “Stay here while I investigate.”

Eliza opened her mouth to object, but he forestalled her, putting a finger over her lips as he stared down into her pale blue eyes. “Please don’t argue. I love you and I’m trying to protect you.”

He leaned toward her and let his lips brush hers in the tenderest of kisses. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you. I promise I’ll come back for you when I see how the land lies.”

She nodded to let him know she would do as he bid, and he headed for the stables.

Beau gazed around the yard and frowned. It was empty apart from a lad who was reclining on a hay bale, whistling. He recognised him as one of his mother’s grooms.

“Where is everybody, Jensen?” he asked, making the young man jump.

He leapt to his feet, full of apologies. “I’m sorry, your lordship. I didn’t know you was here. Reed said as how I could have the afternoon off…”

“Did she? And do you normally take orders from a maid?”

“No, my lord, but Lady Harting told me I was to do so today.”

“You say you weren’t aware I was here?”

“No, your lordship. There weren’t anyone here when we arrived. Just Reed and the lady in the carriage who she said was going to be your missus. She told me to see to the horses and then I could have the rest of the day off, but I had nowhere to go, so I stayed here.”

Beau rubbed his chin as he processed the lad’s words. There was no one here? Where were his grooms? Had they suffered the same fate as he had and been hit over the head?

A brief inspection of the stables showed him Jet had incurred no injury from his supposed fall and Romeo was untouched, but his bays were missing and there was no sign of his staff.

Think. He must think. Servants talked. To preserve Eliza’s reputation, he needed to choose his words carefully, and he wasn’t skilled at that.