Chasing Eliza (Cavendish Mysteries 3)

The man puffed out his chest, all fatherly concern in a way that reminded her so much of her own late father it brought tears to her eyes. Seeing her wobbly smile, the man nodded kindly towards her and assured her he would send up someone with a tray of food right away.

Silence settled around her as she eyed the large bed sitting in the middle of the room. Even from the door she could smell the heavenly scent of flowers that hung in the air, and eyed the multi-coloured blooms standing in solitary splendour on the dresser. A spindle chair and a table were the only other items of furniture in the room, but despite the lack of embellishments the room had a cosy air that immediately made her want to toe off her boots and relax.

Mentally sending a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens, she had barely taken two steps into the room when there was a discrete knock on the door and a maid entered carrying two steaming jugs of water which she quickly deposited on the dresser with a thump.

“Thank you so much.” Eliza gushed, smiling brightly at the startled maid for several moments before the draw of getting clean took her attention and she moved to the dresser.

“There’s another maid coming in a moment with the food ma’am.” The young girl assured her before quickly leaving. Sure enough the door had barely closed before the rattling of pots could be heard directly outside.

Eliza didn’t know which to go for first. The need to wash the grime away battled with the need to eat but the matter was settled by the wonderful aromas coming from the tray.

Edward was steaming. He hadn’t asked to find her. While he had and been reluctantly agreeable to escorting her to Peter’s, he hadn’t expected events to unfold as they had. Battling and even killing armed pursuers he could cope with, losing the woman he was meant to be protecting was something that stuck in his craw and he hated it. Hated failing at any mission he had been given.

Well, he hadn’t actually been given this mission per se, he reluctantly admitted. Rather it had been forced upon him but now he had become involved he wasn’t prepared to stand back and allow matters to be taken out of his control. He had to have closure on it otherwise he couldn’t return to his new estates and have any hope of settling into a life of mundane normality. He would be too busy gnawing over unfinished business and, if he was completely honest, worrying about Eliza’s wellbeing.

Until she was ensconced safely at his brother’s house, he couldn’t consider the matter closed. That meant that whatever happened, he had to find her and persuade her to trust him enough to let him take her to Havistock. He had thought last night that he had done enough to garner her trust, but clearly not.

He was so annoyed with her right now, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to paddle her backside, rant and rave at her or just kiss the living daylights out of her for worrying him senseless.

He had seen the way she had softened last night when he had given her his cloak. The startled look of wonder she had shot him had revealed that nobody had seen to her wellbeing for a long time, and his simple act of kindness had touched her deeply. It had taken every ounce of fortitude not to kiss her there and then.

He had no intention of becoming involved in her. She was pretty – beautiful even – strong willed, determined, gentle and caring. He snapped off that train of thought and scowled anew at the stone edifice of the small coaching inn sitting a little way down the road. Although tiny in comparison to some of the coaching inns lining the major routes, this one had a well kept and homely look to it that immediately made him want to see if it was as good as it looked.

Exhaustion beckoned and he turned Guinness into the coaching inn without thought. He wasn’t sure if the delicious scent of pie that hung teasingly in the air was designed to lure hungry travellers across the threshold, but it certainly worked on him. Giving the ostler instructions, he was about to turn towards the side door to the inn when one of the horses caught his attention. He paused and frowned, studying it closely.

Although he had never seen Eliza’s horse in daylight, he knew the mount they had purloined from their pursuers was bay with a black mane and tail, just like the one tied up hungrily chomping a bushel of hay.

“Good day.” He greeted the startled innkeeper with a friendly smile, well aware that he had unnerved the poor man both by his sudden arrival and his appearance. With his black hair and equally dark clothing he must look like the grim reape

r, suddenly appearing in the doorway like a menacing demon. Edward fought the urge to scowl darkly and intimate the man completely and tried to keep his demeanour as jovial as he could make it. Inside he was seething and already plotting retribution against the woman undoubtedly nestled comfortably in one of the rooms upstairs.

“I don’t suppose my wife is here is she? Unless I am much mistaken, that is her horse outside.” He went on to describe Eliza in detail. He could do that with confidence because he felt as though every inch of her was indelibly stamped on his mind.

“Oh yes, sir! She arrived earlier and is upstairs. The maids have just taken some water and food up to her.” The innkeeper stammered, clearly convinced that he was her husband given his clear and accurate description.

“Can you send up another tray and some more water? Then make sure we are not disturbed.” Edward ordered taking directions to the room and two steps at a time, he made his way upstairs, the muscle in his jaw twitching in temper.

Standing outside the door, he wondered if he should burst in and scare her, but decided that keeping her on edge and wary of him was probably the best way to ensure her compliance – at least for the time being.

Gently he knocked on the door and waited.

Eliza was about to take her first bite of the delicious looking pie when there was a knock on the door. She paused and frowned, wondering if the maids had forgotten something. She eyed the vast array of foods before her and judged the distance to the door. Nothing could urge her to cover the distance in search of answers. From her seat at the table she called for the newcomer to enter and took a quick bite of the sumptuous meal.

She about choked when a dusty and fiercely angry Edward casually sauntered into the room. There are only a handful of times in a person’s life when something happens that is so earth-shattering, so nerve-jarringly startling that the images remain with you for the rest of your life. Eliza knew this was one of those moments.

Even from across the room he was simply huge. He had to duck his head to fit through the door he was so tall. Eliza judged he must be at least six feet tall, if not more. He seemed to dwarf the room with his sheer presence. His broad shoulders stretched and filled the black shirt to masculine perfection. Eliza could see the ripple of muscle beneath the black cloth as he casually meandered across the room.

Eliza swallowed and shifted uncomfortably in her chair, the pie in her mouth turned to ash as she watched him draw near, pause before her and bend down to lean menacingly over her. He placed one hand on either arm of the chair in which she sat and drew so close to her that his nose was almost touching hers.

Despite her anxiety, Eliza vaguely noted his eyes were dark blue. She hadn’t been able to see last night, but in daylight they were startling in their intensity. Although right now they were also glinting with fierce temper that also made a muscle twitch in his square jaw. Tendrils of dusty black locks fell over his broad forehead, his nostrils were flared and his lips firm as he glared down at her in menacing silence for several moments.

Eliza could practically feel the anger shimmering through him. All thoughts of making excuses vanished. She could think of nothing other than the towering bulk of masculinity that was clearly going to raise hell any moment now.

The last thing she expected was the dip of his head as his lips crushed hers. It wasn’t the kiss of lovers, fuelled by tenderness and lust. This was an affirmation of survival, a clash of wills where master sought and challenged mate, daring her to object to complete submission. It was quick; it was brutal and when he drew abruptly away, left her shaking with the force of the desire that swept through her.

Although he had drawn back, he still loomed over her and seemed inclined to glare down at her for as long as it took. Eliza frowned at him.

“If you do that to me again, I will bloody well paddle your backside so hard you won’t be able to walk straight.” Edward growled in a voice husky with thirst, hunger and the tide of relief that had threatened to buckle his knees. He hated to feel so intensely about anyone.