Page 59 of To Treasure an Heiress
He saw Mamm-wynn’s eyes again, troubled and clouded. Felt the squeeze of her hand as she held his.
Holding hands...
The words echoed in his mind, making his brows draw together. That had been her sole reaction when he asked for direction from her. To hold his hand. Though that couldn’t possiblybean answer, could it? It was just an emotional reaction.
Holding hands ... with St. Agnes.
“Gugh.” His murmur was lost to the drumming of the rain, or at least drew no reaction from either of his companions. Which was fine by him. He had no idea if this thought was inspired by God or just a desperate grasping of his own mind.
But Gugh—it was where they’d last seen Scofield. Why? Why had he been there? Something had taken him to the little hunk of rock off St. Agnes’s shores.
Could the same something bring Scofield back again? Could the question of it have lured Beth back there this morning?
It wasn’t impossible. That didn’t make it likely, but ... He looked up, toward her brother. “Gugh,” he said again, more loudly this time.
Oliver looked over at him with lifted brows. “She’s already been there and found nothing of interest. What would draw her to it again?”
Though he opened his mouth, Sheridan wasn’t certain what answer to give him. He shrugged and summoned a few words, paltry though they might be. “It’s where he was. That alone would be enough to make her wonder why, wouldn’t it? And if she had a question about it, whynotexplore a bit while she’s so near, after dropping Lady Emily at St. Mary’s?”
Their captain granted that with a tilt of his head that sent a stream of water onto his slicker-clad shoulder. “As good a theory as any.”
Telford didn’t look quite so convinced. “Really? Your sister would just go off for another random investigation in this weather, without letting anyone know?”
With a laugh, Oliver faced forward again. “If you have to ask, you’ve not spent enough time with her yet, my lord.”
Despite the weight of his worry, Sheridan grinned. He’d never met a young lady so prone to adventure. She was exactly the sort who would be eager to join him on excavations anywhere in the world. She wouldn’t complain about the dry heat in Egypt or the strange food in Greece. She wouldn’t faint at the thought of hiking into the Andes or give a dreadful shiver at the very suggestion of catching sight of the northern lights while he researched something in Iceland. She’d thrill at the chance to see those places, to explore and discover. And rough living for a few weeks at a time wouldn’t deter her a bit. She’d resorted to just that this very summer when she was in hiding, after all, of her own volition.
There was no girl in the world like Beth Tremayne.
“Oh, egad.” Telford, with that exasperated declaration, made a show of clampinghiseyes shut and clasping his hands. “Lord Almighty, spare me the sap and moon-eyes of all these lovesick fools.”
His future brother-in-law laughed. “Careful what you pray for, Telford. Perhaps I’ll spare you by giving you a toss into the drink like my sister did Sheridan.”
16
Iknew you would make an appearance soon.”
Beth stood rooted to the heather, her shock at war with her common sense. She knew she ought to turn and run back to her boat before Nigel Scofield could come a step closer, but instead she blinked. How could he be here?How?She must be imagining it.
But her imagination never would have conjured him up like this, dressed in clothes better suited for an Amazonian expedition than a jaunt in the islands, ducking out of his tent with nothing but a hat to protect him from the rain. And grinning. Still grinning as he’d done the day they met.
“I knew it was only a matter of time after I discovered your name. Surely a magical binding works over distance, to pull the fairy to her captor. It’s only logical.”
Water dripped from the hood of her mackintosh, across her vision. She managed a step backward. “I beg your pardon, sir. I didn’t expect anyone else to be here.”
He pursed his lips, though if he made any noise, it was lost to the rain. And shook his head as he took a step toward her. “Now, Miss Tremayne—or may I call you Beth? Why wouldn’t you have expected me to be here?”
She winced a bit at the sound of her name on his lips. No magicbound her to him at the speaking, but even so, it left her with a bare feeling. Exposed.
He’d realized who she was—not just some random “Beth” of Sheridan’s acquaintance, but the very person his father had been communicating with all spring. Which meant he’d likely also realized who Libby was, and that she and Oliver and Telford had pulled the wool over his eyes that day outside Cromwell’s Castle, when he’d forced them to Piper’s Hole to trade Mabena for a piece of Mucknell’s treasure.
But she’d learned quite a bit in their time apart too. Maybe even something that would makehimproceed with care. “Well, I suppose, Mr. Scofield, that I simply don’t expect to find earls’ sons making camp on an unoccupied island in a rainstorm.” And from the looks of it, he’d been there more than just a couple hours, given the small cookstove and assortment of items set up. At least a day. Perhaps he came during the fair weather yesterday, though she still couldn’t think how he’d managed it without anyone knowing.
He came to within a foot of her and offered his elbow. “I don’t know why not, given the particular earl I’m the particular son of. I’ve certainly set up camp in far worse conditions than this. Did Em ever tell you about our expedition to Peru when she was twelve? Not that she and Mother left the hotel in Cusco.”
She glared at the proffered arm before spinning back toward theNaiad. “She did, yes. She said that it was a hot, muggy, miserable fortnight spent all but locked up in a room with her mother while you and your father were off gallivanting about in search of Aztec temples.” And gold that the conquistadors had missed, no doubt.
She hadn’t gone but a step before his hand closed around her slicker-covered elbow and forced her to a halt. It was an iron grip, too, despite the warm, friendly sound of the laugh he let loose.
