Chasing Eliza (Cavendish Mysteries 3)

“Eliza.”

“No!”

“Eliza.” Edward’s patience began to wear thin. “Do you want me to help you or not?”

“No.” Eliza declared flatly. “I want you to go to Oxfordshire, or wherever it is you come from and forget about me.”

“Not an option, we have already been through that.”

Eliza jumped as he suddenly presented her with the handle of the wicked looking scabbard he was holding. It was much smaller than the sword, far less imposing but the sight of it still had the ability to turn her into a quivering wreck.

Cautiously she reached out to take it from him with a trembling hand.

It was far heavier than she expected. She looked closely at the brilliant sheen on the highly polished metal with a shudder and felt sick to her toes. The blade had serrated edges at the tip and would be enough to give anyone on the receiving end a lot to worry about. She wondered if she could ever find the strength to use it on anyone, even someone who was attacking her and doubted she could.

Staring blankly at it, she turned it over and over in her hands for several moments, assessing its size and weight. It looked like something that would have killed her father and his men.

“Here, hold it like this.” Edward moved her fingers around the handle, showing her how to hold her fingers against the hilt of the wicked looking object. His hands were large and warm and strangely reassuring as they wrapped around hers. He urged her to stand and showed her how to position herself and where on the body to use it to the best advantage.

“Stop!” Eliza gasped several moments later, feeling bile rise in her throat at the prospect of cutting anyone from breast to navel without a qualm. “I can’t use this on anyone.” She shook her head and handed the wicked object back to him with a shudder.

“You may need to. Consider what you are going into.” Edward declared flatly, determined that she should at least know how to protect herself. He had no intention of allowing anyone to get anywhere near her beautiful head, and would gladly lay down his life to protect her, but he needed the reassurance of knowing she would be able to hold off any would-be kidnappers if the situation arose.

“I know.” Eliza replied, feeling panic build. “If the time comes, I don’t know what I shall do. Let’s hope that it doesn’t come to that.” She muttered, turning away from him to gather her shattered nerves.

“So Jemima helped your father with his writing and probably knew who his contacts were, and what information he took to the War Office.” Edward questioned having resumed his seat and allowed several moments of silence for Eliza settle down. Only when he could see the trem

bling in her fingers had eased and some of the colour had returned to her face, did he probe her for more information.

Eliza nodded, following his train of thought.

“So what does he want with you?”

Eliza studied him for several moments, considering her reply. “I think he may need to know what information I may have about who my father was going to meet in the War Office, and what information he was taking.”

“The fact that he still wants you points to the possibility that he doesn’t have the information already.” Edward argued, seeking to resolve her earlier upset.

“Meaning Jemima is still alive?” Eliza’s heart swelled at the possibility and she studied him with a heart full of hope shining in her eyes.

Edward hated to extinguish the light but felt that Jemima may already be dead; having fallen victim to Scraggan’s ruthlessness at the time she disappeared.

“Meaning that Scraggan is still looking for answers and while he needs you, we have the advantage.” Edward reasoned, hoping deep within his heart that he was being as truthful as possible in his analysis of the situation.

“Why?” Eliza frowned, trying to pick up on his reasoning.

“Because they want you but we are the only ones at the moment who know where you are. I think I have found a perfect way for us to get down to Padstow without being discovered.” Thinking of the way Izzy had escaped from her uncle’s brutal guardianship.

Eliza stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, and mumbled an apology as it was immediately followed with another one just as wide.

“Time for bed.”

Throughout their exchange they had both been valiantly trying to ignore the huge expanse of bed waiting only a few feet away. Now that exhaustion was pulling at them both, it was inevitable that they would have to deal with the immediate problem they were now faced with.

“I will go and get some more brandy from the tap, while you get yourself into bed.” Edward heaved his bulk wearily out of the chair and made his way across the room, aware of her eyes following him.

“Where will you be sleeping?” Her pert question stopped him at the door.

He studied the faint flush that had tinted her cheeks a rosy peach colour and wondered why he hadn’t mentioned going to bed before in order to get her looking less pale. His body predictably began to respond with the prospect of her being naked between the white sheets, and he turned away from the room slightly so she couldn’t see the evidence of his wayward body’s interest in her.