He wouldn’t be able to use the forged notes again, and any arranged meeting would be looked on with suspicion. That meant he’d be hard-pressed to eliminate Lacey before the wedding.
But then it occurred to him that if Olivia Monteith was married, and then widowed, she’d stand to inherit the castle and the estate and all the Lacey wealth. As her second husband, Theodore would have the benefit of that; everything that was once Lord Lacey’s would become his.
Alphonse’s face split into a grin. Theodore would be twice as wealthy, and he’d certainly reward his brother. And this plan was bound to be even better than the last one.
Chapter 23
Nic lifted his head, listening. The sounds of running feet and a body crashing through the undergrowth had faded, and now the usual silence lay over the woods. Whoever had fired the shot had made his escape.
“Are you hurt?” came a whisper. He felt Olivia touching his face, her fingers trembling as they brushed against his skin.
“No.” He rolled off her and gave her a humorless smile. “I’m sorry I jumped on you.”
She sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes, looking around. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could it have been Wilson, your gamekeeper?” she said, no doubt remembering the night the fool had threatened to shoot them.
“No. If it was, he’d have come to make sure we were unharmed. Whoever fired that shot didn’t want to be seen and he certainly didn’t want to be caught.”
Nic climbed to his feet, and reached down to help her up.
She was disheveled, a leaf in her hair, and a streak of earth across her sleeve. The thought that she’d been in danger made him furiously angry, and although there was nothing he could do about it just now, he was coldly determined to discover who’d been trespassing on his land. And when he did, he promised himself he’d punish them, personally.
“Nic, why did you want to meet here?”
Olivia was on her way back toward the clearing where the stone stood. She paused to shake out her skirts and brush them down, and Nic frowned and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out the folded note.
“Didn’t you send this to me?”
“Send what?” She turned, and he opened the note and read it aloud to her. There was a silence while she stared at him in bewilderment. “But you sent the same thing to me! Well, almost the same.” She took the paper and read it herself, then peered more closely at the penmanship. “I didn’t write this. It is very like, but…I know I didn’t write it.”
“And I certainly didn’t write telling you to meet me here,” Nic said quietly.
Olivia shivered and he slipped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Do you think someone brought us here on purpose?”
“It would seem so.”
“But why? The scandal is already common knowledge, and we have announced our marriage.”
“I don’t think it was to cause a scandal, Olivia.” He looked down into her eyes. “Someone was trying to frighten us.”
“Or harm us?” she said.
“They missed, remember. At such close range, they must have missed on purpose.”
“Oh Nic…”
“I know I’m not a popular man,” he said dryly, “but I can’t see why anyone would want to shoot at me. The only virgin I’ve ruined lately is you.” His mouth curled into a smile. “You don’t think your mother—”
“No, I do not! Nic, this is no laughing matter.”
He kissed her lips, just a brush of his to hers. “I know it’s not. Forgive me, my sweet.”
She turned away again, shoulders stiff with disapproval, and walked across the clearing to halt by the pagan stone. Nic followed more slowly, watching the sway of her hips, enjoying the muted glow of her hair in the gloom.
“I often wondered what went on here,” he said, and paced around the stones, allowing his hand to trail across the smooth, worn surface of the lintel stone. “Fertility rites? What do you think, Olivia? Did our village ancestors dance naked under the stars, taking their pleasure where they fell?”