Dangerous Diana (Brambridge Novel 3) (19 page)

Melissa arched backwards. Hades’ brown hair blew round his shoulders in the wind and he loomed above her like the Greek god after which he was named.

She turned and with quick steps walked as fast as possible away from Hades. She couldn’t hear any thuds in the ground as he followed her, but she knew that he was fleet of step. When she was fifty yards away, she risked a look round.

Hades stood gazing out to sea with his arms behind his back. His face had turned once more to harsh granite, and the dying rays of the afternoon sun glinted on his face. Fearing the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes, and which she had no ability to rub away, Melissa turned resolutely forward and continued to trudge across the cliff tops.

She found a small stream that burbled across the grass and fell down across the cliff. Laying her satchel down on the edge, she gently pulled off the last of the fingers on the partially removed glove and laid it in the stream. With a small stick she pinned down the middle finger of the other glove and pulled her arm out of the henbane soaked leather. That too she placed in the stream.

It was a better effort than turning the gloves inside out and reusing them. The leather was hardy, and the henbane had only soaked a small way into the gloves. A secure washing by the stream water that ran over the cliffs would make the leather safe to be touched with the bare hand again.
Oh Hades.
Melissa laid the gloves out on a nearby rock and sat down to wait for them to dry in the last rays of the sun.

It was teatime when she reached Berale House again. Victoria welcomed her at the door, her eyebrows raised.

“So did you find what you were looking for?”

Melissa returned her gimlet stare with one of her own. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Earl Harding arrived whilst you were out.”

“Gracious, that’s nice,” Melissa said inanely. “I haven’t seen him for a while.”

“Lord Lassiter told me that he found you at the earl’s house before you came to visit me and commandeered my coach.”

Melissa couldn’t believe that Victoria’s eyes could narrow any further. “Um, he had something I needed.”

“Oh yes?”

“Yes.” Melissa was not going to budge an inch.

Victoria laughed. “I think we need to have a little talk, you and I.”

She did not want to talk to Victoria. Especially not after finding out that Hades had turned right up on her doorstep and kissed her after doing exactly the same with Melissa. Had Victoria also felt on fire when he had kissed her? Did he have that effect on all women? She shivered and clutched firmly at the satchel that hung off her shoulder.

“I’ll just go and have a wash, and then I will be down for tea.”

Victoria nodded, and shut the front door behind Melissa.

In her room Melissa laid the satchel carefully on the bottom of the large, linen cupboard that stood in the corner and sat with a thump on her bed. She had come down to Devon to escape Hades and the Viper. But it was obvious to her that Hades had no intention of leaving her be, but it would impolite of her to flee now; she had only just arrived.

Wearily she got up and, pouring some water from the ewer next to the linen cupboard, she started to wipe at her arms.

A knock at the door startled her as she finished drying every inch of her skin that she had soaped. Kicking the linen cupboard doors shut with her feet, she opened her bedroom door a crack.

“Yes?” If it was Hades then he could go away. She had no intention of speaking to him further.

“Oh come on Melissa, don’t be such a goose. Let me in!”

It was the second
worst
person after Hades. Victoria,
again.
With a sigh and a slump of her shoulders, Melissa opened the door more fully and allowed Victoria to trot in, followed by her small dog Ponzi.

Victoria immediately made for the only chair in the room and sat with a thump. “Now then, Melissa. You must tell me what is going on. I’ve been very restrained. Firstly you turn up at my house unaccompanied and borrow my barouche. Then you find you have left the kettle on when I meet you in the park, and
now
you return to the house having been chased over the cliff tops by Earl Harding.”

“Nothing is going on,” Melissa mumbled.
Oh dear.
Like everyone else it seemed that she had underestimated the fluttering woman.

“
In fact
,” Victoria said slowly, “you found that you had left your kettle on right after I disclosed to you that the earl kissed me…”

“You reminded me that I needed to go home.”

Victoria gave Melissa a look of disbelief. “Well, if you won’t tell me what is bothering you, I will just have to come out and say it. I think that you and the earl are mixed up together and you are both denying it.”

“Why would he kiss you if we were?” Melissa stepped and clapped a hand over her mouth. She pursed her lips and drew her hand away tiredly. “That does not sound like a man that would be engaged with another woman.”

“You really don’t know much about men, do you?” Victoria gave Melissa a kindly look.

Men—men that grabbed, men that manipulated, men that
controlled
. One man that made set her senses alight. No. Melissa did not know much about
men
.

“The earl and I had an understanding…” Victoria started delicately. “After Colchester died, and Harding had his heart broken, we were
useful
to each other for a while.”

“Useful?” Melissa found Victoria’s diplomatic language a little hard to stomach. “You mean as in…”

“Oh no, no!” Victoria jerked backwards in her seat. “No. We would partner each other at balls, and spend a lot of time together, but that was it. It would mean that I could have some peace away from all the fortune hunters and scoundrels who thought a widow was easy meat, and he could hide from the debutantes who seemed to fall at his feet.” Victoria laughed. “Although, it didn’t seem to work on his side. The debs kept coming!”

Melissa shook her head. “But he kissed you!”

“Yes. It was the first time actually that he had ever done so,” Victoria said wryly. “And it will be the last.”

“Why?”

“Because it was the kind of kiss that two people share when they are angry and thinking of other people.”

Melissa swallowed. What kind of kiss had Hades given her then? She cleared her throat. “So who were you thinking about?”

Victoria reddened and stood up. “Nobody,” she said shortly, “at least nobody important.” Her face softened, and her blush receded. “The important thing that any woman should know who is engaged with the earl is that the kiss he gave me, and believe me, there was no lead up, was perfunctory, textbook and boring. Any kisses a woman shares with a man who likes her will be full of fire and heat.”

Fire and heat
. Melissa swallowed. There had been plenty of that.

“Now then, will I see you down at dinner?” Victoria walked to the door and turned with her hand on the handle, her eyebrows set in an enquiring manner.

Melissa searched for the words. “Yes. But I may leave early tomorrow morning. There are other affairs apart from my…
problems
with the earl that I need to take care of.”

Victoria nodded. “I understand,” she said simply.

Melissa opened the linen cupboard and stared at the satchel as Victoria shut the bedroom door behind her.

CHAPTER 21

Hades awoke with a start. His head hurt from drinking too much whisky. Damn the woman. He had broken his promise to himself to keep away from the alcohol and stay on the coffee. Instead she had driven him to sitting morosely with the men discussing the merits of racing stables and the season’s crop of debutantes.

He didn’t even have a book to read. He’d left them all in the bloody coach. What had he done before? He groaned—a ride, that was it.

He winced as he pulled his clothes on. Just the sheer movement was hell. His brain rolled around in his head like a pea. What was it Melissa always called him?
Pea brain
. Walking stiffly, he sniffed and padded out of his room and down the corridor, holding his boots in his hand.

The house was still asleep; it was early yet and the other house guests had been catching up, having not seen each other for quite some time. He gathered they all knew each other from the Stanton affair. He noted that the guests kindly avoided discussing Melissa’s involvement in it all. Smythe the butler stood quietly in the hall. He gave Hades quick directions to the stables, and also assured him that his coachman and tiger would have been put up in the accommodation above the stables overnight.

The early morning sunlight shone strongly on the gravel of the drive as Hades crunched his way towards the stables that sat on the edge of the Berale House property. The stables were formed as a courtyard, with all the stalls facing inwards and room for visiting coaches. As soon as he entered the courtyard, Hades could see his coach stowed neatly at the end of the stalls.

A stable hand was sweeping the wet cobbles that shone from the morning’s cleaning. He gave Hades directions to his two horses that were stabled next to the coach. One, a dappled grey, hung his head over the door and nickered softly as Hades approached. Grabbing an apple from a bin, Hades scratched the grey on its nose and fed it the apple with a flat hand. The horse munched happily.

“My lord!” Hades’ coachman hurried out into the stable yard, his shirt slightly untucked and his customary hat askew. Hades did not begrudge the man some rest; he had pushed the coach hard to arrive at Brambridge so quickly. “I apologize, I would have had Cloud ready for you if I had known that you wanted to ride this morning.”

“Not to worry, John. I really wanted Acorn,” Hades said, giving Cloud, the grey horse, another stroke on the nose. Acorn was a beautiful chestnut with a sweet temperament. He would be just right for carrying Hades and his fragile head that morning. “I don’t suppose someone else has taken him out,” he said pointing at the empty top half of the stall. “He normally comes out to say hello.”

“That he does, sir,” John the coachman said with a frown. Both men moved to peer into the stable, which was dark. Little light filtered in as the sun had not yet moved round to cast its rays through the door.

“Help me open the door, John.” Hades drew in a breath and fumbled sharply with the large bolt. Inside the stable, the large unmoving form of a horse was outlined sharply on the hay.

The coachman deftly pulled open the door for Hades and followed him into the dark space. With a curse, Hades knelt on the floor.

Acorn lay staring sightlessly at the ceiling, his throat arched and bulging. The rest of his body was stretched, hooves motionless in the air.

John edged round the large body to look more into the chestnut’s face. He shook his head and took off his cap. “I’ve never seen anything like it, sir. Acorn was alive and well at six o’clock last night. I’ll have to see if the stable hand heard anything more.”

Hades clenched his fists. “You do that. I need to go up to the house to see if there is anyone who can help me.”

John continued to shake his head. “There was no reason for Acorn to die like this. He was a young horse and fit as a fiddle. I don’t think we drove the horses unnecessarily hard over the past few days.”

“Leave the horse there and go and talk to the stable hand. I’m not going for a ride until I’ve sorted this out with Lord Anglethorpe.”

John nodded.

Hades trudged wearily back to the house. He had
liked
Acorn. The sudden loss of something he liked… it seemed all too prescient with his relationship with Melissa.
Or lack of relationship now
.

Berale House was starting to stir as Hades re-entered the hall. The butler directed him to Henry’s study where the lord sat behind his desk, an enormous pile of papers in front of him.

“Hades!” Henry gave him a warm smile which faded as he looked up from the pile of papers. “You haven’t decided that Agatha is a spy again, have you? We’re happily married now!”

Hades passed a hand across his brow tiredly and sat heavily in the chair opposite Henry.

“I can see you are happily married,” he said dryly, thinking of the obvious warmth between the pair he had seen the night before. He had envied Lord and Lady Anglethorpe’s understanding, the quiet looks the pair shared when they thought others were not looking.

“She is still not a spy,” Henry said hotly, half-standing but distracted by the tower of paperwork that threatened to spill over on the table in front of him.

“Of course she isn’t.” Hades caught the fan of paper as it tumbled towards him. He pushed it back onto the desk. “It’s my horse.”

“Horse?”

“Yes. It’s dead.”

“Oh. I’m terribly sorry, we’ll get someone from Ottery to remove it. Not to worry, I’m sure I can find…”

“Unnaturally dead.”

“That’s different.”

“Yes. Do you know of anyone that might be able to see to the horse before it is taken away?”

Henry looked doubtful. “The only person I know of is Bill Standish at Brambridge Manor. His experience as a blacksmith has taught him quite a bit.”

“Hmm, that might help. Doesn’t he know Renard too?”

“Yes. I was going to ask you to go with me today to see Bill about that. I’ll send him round a note. Get him to come here.”

Hades nodded. His head still hurt. He could smell the tantalizing fragrance of coffee. “I think I will go and have breakfast.”

Henry nodded. “Good idea. I’ll see you there in just a minute.”

Victoria was already at breakfast, as well as Agatha, Lady Anglethorpe. Hades groaned inwardly. He had done his best to avoid directly engaging with either one of them. Teamed up together they were formidable. He turned to leave the room, but before he could get the door open, Victoria had already fixed him with a beady eye.

“Hades,” she trilled. “Do stay and have some breakfast. Agatha tells me that the bacon is from the estate. Fancy that.”

Hades nodded politely. He stared hard in Victoria’s direction. She blinked and looked away.