Secluded with the Rogue

6. Six

Six

C HRYSTABEL WATCHED Creath head for the far door at a run, dodging the jumble of pushed-aside furniture as she went.

“Keep dancing!” Lord Trentingham commanded. “Lady Arabel, take Creath’s place.”

Chrystabel obeyed, and so did everyone else. Arabel stepped in as Joseph’s partner. Lord Trentingham was dancing with his wife, and Chrystabel was paired with Matthew. She couldn’t imagine what was happening, but she kept dancing, sensing it was best not to ask.

When the set finished, Lady Trentingham signaled the musicians to skip the galliard and play them through the turns once again. Chrystabel was still circling with her brother when Watkins returned and ushered a stranger into the room.

Tall with a raw-boned build and blunt blond hair, the man was in his middle years. Though his clean-shaven features seethed with anger, his blue eyes were colder than hoarfrost. “What is the meaning of this?” he bellowed.

The dancers halted as the music died away. Exchanging a frightened look with her sister, Chrystabel was grateful to see Joseph placing himself between Arabel and the stranger.

“I could have you all arrested for dancing!” the man roared into the sudden silence. Then, appearing to get himself somewhat under control, he lowered his voice to a menacing growl. “And don’t think I won’t if I find out she’s here.”

Lord Trentingham furrowed his brow. “Are you searching for someone, your worship?”

Your worship ? Evidently the wilderness did have Justices of the Peace—and this vile man was one of them. No wonder Tremayne folk were reluctant to break the law. Chrystabel wouldn’t want to get on this brute’s bad side, either.

“You know who I’m searching for.” The justice’s lips twisted in a sneer—an oft-used expression, judging from the deep lines around his mouth. “My dearest cousin and betrothed, Mistress Creath Moore.”

“Good heavens, is the girl missing?” Lady Trentingham made a convincing concerned neighbor. “How long has she been gone?”

“A night and a day.” The justice advanced several threatening paces toward her. “But I’ve an inkling you already knew that, my lady.”

The earl put a protective arm around his wife. “We haven’t seen the girl, Sir Leonard,” he said in a tone of warning.

Chrystabel was surprised when the taller man stopped in his tracks. Then she remembered Lord Trentingham was a peer, while the justice was apparently a mere knight or baronet. He might have the advantage in malice and government authority, but the earl was a powerful man, and by no means the weaker opponent.

But Sir Leonard wasn’t backing down. An inflamed red lump on his head, just visible beneath his thinning hair, seemed to pulse with anger. “I’ve searched all the other nearby estates and found no trace of her,” he snarled.

He’d saved Tremayne for last, Chrystabel noted. Further proof he was afraid of the earl.

“You’re welcome to search our grounds,” Lady Trentingham put in, “though the cold?—”

“What I did find,” he interrupted rudely, “was a universal consensus among our neighbors that my cousin was most likely to be found with the Ashcrofts.”

Joseph stepped forward, his right hand moving to his hip—where a sword hilt would have rested had he been formally attired. “We already told you she’s not here,” he snapped.

Lady Trentingham held out a restraining arm. “Please excuse my son, your worship. He means no disrespect. But I’m afraid he’s right. Mistress Moore is not with us. If she were, she would have prevented us from dancing.”

Sir Leonard barked a laugh. “Don’t trifle with me, my lady. I have no illusions regarding my bride’s proclivities. Her intimates are all depraved Cavaliers, every last one of you. If you called on her to dance, she wouldn’t bat an eyelash.”

“You mistake my meaning, your worship.” Astoundingly, the countess maintained her composure in the face of his insults. “I was merely referring to the balance of the genders. If Mistress Moore were present, we would have one too many ladies.”

Sir Leonard made a show of balking, but Chrystabel could see him mentally counting heads. “Very well,” he said at last. “I shall expand my search further afield. But if I learn you’re withholding information…”

“We shall, of course, notify you the instant we hear of her whereabouts,” Lord Trentingham held out his hand. “We’re as worried about her as you are.”

Chrystabel had a hard time believing the brute ever worried about anyone besides himself. He appeared to lack the required muscles.

With another of his frequent sneers, Sir Leonard refused the offered hand. “Let me be clear, Trentingham. If it emerges that you are in any way hindering my search, you and your family will suffer dire consequences. Full cooperation will be rewarded. Anything less will be punished—severely.”

“I understand, your worship.” The earl gave a curt nod.

“Also understand that you are still under suspicion. Would that I could make a thorough search of your home tonight, but I’m afraid I haven’t the necessary…expertise.”

Chrystabel wondered what he meant by that. What special knowledge could be required for searching a home?

The earl cleared his throat. “Begging your pardon, Sir Leonard, but I must remind you that you are on my property. I have not gone so far as to bar you from paying a social call”—Chrystabel nearly burst out laughing at the absurdity of labeling this ‘a social call’—“but such will be the extent of my hospitality.”

“As I expected.” The justice waved a hand, as if he weren’t bothered. In fact, Chrystabel could have sworn she saw a triumphant gleam in his eye. “I’ve already sent for a force to help me scour the countryside. Shall twenty armed men be sufficient to compel entry?”

Matthew’s hand tightened around Chrystabel’s—she hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it. Joseph grunted, Lady Trentingham gasped, and Lord Trentingham looked like he was about to be sick.

And Sir Leonard smirked. “Parliament’s justice will not be subverted. I shall have my men on Saturday, and if my bride hasn’t yet returned, I’ll be bringing them here first. Good evening.”

With that, he turned on a heel and left.