Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

R espite House, three hours north of London. December 22nd,1822

No one came to her carriage driver’s knock. No doubt the servants had gone home early because of the weather. Fortunately, Jessica had been given a key.

Hodge carried her trunks inside after she opened the door. He was now standing in the front hall, shifting from foot to foot. She could see the concern in his eyes in the light of the lamp on the hall table. There must be another upstairs, since Jessica had seen two lit windows when she descended from the carriage, and those lights were the only sign of occupation in the cottage.

“Are you certain you will be able to get back to the inn in the village, Mr Hodge?” Jessica asked him. The snow, at first just a few soft flakes that melted as soon as they landed, was now coming down thick and fast. Settling, too. Already, the driveway was covered in a sheet of white.

The man’s eyes crinkled. She couldn’t see his smile for the muffler that protected him from the cold, but she could hear it in his voice. “I shall, Lady Colyton. It is no more than two miles. I’ll be in front of a warm fire with my feet up and a drink in my hand before you can say Jack Robinson. Never you mind.”

“If you are sure, then.”

“I am, my lady. But will you be safe and comfortable?” Hodge’s eyes were concerned. “There’ll be someone there, my lady, to look after you?” he half asked and half stated. “I don’t like to think of you being on your own.”

“I shall be very comfortable, Mr Hodge, I assure you. The ladies who own the house have a cook and a maid. Also, a groundsman, who can do heavy jobs indoor if asked.” And who lived on the estate next door, a fifteen-minute walk away. He would only come when asked, Jessica had been told. As for the cook and a maid of all work, neither lived in, which suited Jessica. She would be all alone, and that was precisely what she wanted and needed.

“I’ll be off then, my lady. You will send for me if you need me?”

Jessica assured him she would do so, though she could not imagine whom she could send, nor how they would get through to the village in this weather.

She watched him to his coach, then shut and locked the door, and leaned against it with a great sigh. Alone at last! No one to hover over her, trying to include her in things, asking her how she felt. No one to complain, carp, and criticise—not that her family did any of those things, but her years with Colyton had left wounds that might never completely heal over.

An entire house to herself! No one would notice or care if she stayed up reading half the night or went to bed with the sun. No one would insist she slept in or that she rose apace. No one would watch every mouthful she ate and order her to eat less or beg her to eat more.

For ten glorious days, she had only herself to please.

Right now, it pleased her to carry her travel bag upstairs to find her bedroom. The trunk would have to wait until tomorrow, when the servants came.

Emily Mannering, the widow who had arranged this holiday for her, had described the upstairs layout, and sure enough, when she turned left from the head of the stairs, she found a short passage with two doors on either side and a window at the end.

The maid had been instructed to prepare the first room on the right with clean sheets and a fire laid in the hearth that just required a spill to set it alight.

Jessica set down her bag and opened the door. Yes, there was the other lamp, on a small desk under the window. The room was warm, even though the drapes had been left slightly open, presumably so the lamp’s light could be seen from outside. The servants must have stayed late to prepare the house for her, for the fire was not merely set, but burned merrily behind a fire guard.

Jessica put the lamp down on a chest of drawers to the side of the door, and turned back for her bag. There was a muffled sound from behind her, and she spun around to face the bed. The sound came again, an angry muffled growl that froze her in place.

But no. Colyton was dead and—if God was just—in hell. If he had been going to haunt her, he would have done so before now, and his angry spirit could not possibly have followed her to this house, which belonged to people he didn’t know—People she only met after his death.

But someone was in the bed, destroying the peace of her holiday. Jessica was not going to stand for it. She armed herself with the fire poker, picked up her lamp, and cautiously approached, ignoring the shrinking within. She did not know what to expect, but the sight that met her eyes wouldn’t have occurred to her as an option. Not in a million years.

A handsome man in his prime was lying naked on the bed, spreadeagled on his back, his wrists and ankles tied to the head and foot posts. He was gagged. Also, by his expression, furious. Another angry growl aroused her from her shock. She was gaping. She shut her mouth and blinked. Which didn’t make him vanish. He was really there!

Her fear was being diluted by a healthy dose of irritation. She snatched up a blanket from the foot of the bed and threw it over him. She did not need to see what was on such flagrant display. She had never seen a man in such a complete state of undress—Colyton included.

Mind you, Colyton could not possibly have looked as magnificent as the specimen in front of her. Enough of that. She shook her head in a futile attempt to remove the delightful—no, the indecent memory.

“What on earth are you doing here? It doesn’t matter. You will have to leave. Immediately. I cannot imagine how you got here, and in that state.” Another thought occurred to her. “Oh my. Is the person who tied you up still here?” She turned to face the door, the poker held as threateningly as she could.

His noise this time sounded like an attempt at words. He was still annoyed, but she would be, too, in his circumstances.

“I am going to remove your gag,” she decided. He was tied up, after all. He could not hurt her. She put the lamp on the bedside table and leaned the poker against the bed, where she could reach it easily.

The gag was a kerchief tied so tightly that it cut across his mouth, holding it open. It was fastened by a knot behind one ear. At her request, he turned his head so she could get her fingers into the knot, pulling and tugging until it gave way. As soon as it was loose, he moved his head so suddenly that her fingers collided with the side of his face before she could snatch them back. He spat out the kerchief, and after it, a wad of fabric that must have been pushed into his mouth.

“Whoever you are, madam, and whatever your game, it will not work,” he declared, sternly, his voice harsh. “Release me instantly, or it shall go badly for you.”

Release him? Jessica felt much safer with him tied up. Unless his assailants were still here. “I have no idea who you are or what you are doing here,” she told him. “I have no game, and I want no part of whatever this is.” She waved to encompass the bed, the ties, and his unclothed state.

He narrowed her eyes as if doing so would allow him to see into her soul. He was a good-looking man. The worst sort, in Jessica’s estimation. Her half-brothers were both handsome men, and had been terrible rakes until they met their wives. Her father had also been handsome when he was young, before his lifestyle destroyed his health. Colyton had been very ordinary looking, which only went to show one couldn’t tell anything about a man from his appearance, for her brothers were both good men, and her father and Colyton had both been fiends, in their separate ways.

“If you have had nothing to do with me being abducted and tied here like this,” the man challenged her, “then undo me.”

She bit her upper lip while she thought. She could not leave him tied up, obviously, but on the other hand, she could not bring herself to untie him. Unless someone else was in the house, and if so, they were in the dark and being very quiet, she was alone with this man. How did she know he would not take advantage of that?

But she could not leave him tied up. If only she had asked Hodge to come inside with her! It was too late now. Her brother’s coachman would be at the inn, seeing to the horses and looking forward to his hot toddy.

How could her holiday have turned so quickly into a disaster?