“Have you written to your father yet?”
“Not since my last letter.”
“You have received no reply then, I take it?”
“Not yet.”
“Would you do something for me?”
“Of course, anything,” she gushed.
She revelled in the intimacy between them that was so inherently natural she could touch it. She wanted to speak to him some more but struggled to find the words to say with her aunt so close.
“Write a note to your father again, but tell him to write back care of me at Briggleberry if you have not done so already. Tell him not to write anything else to Delilah, but you will explain why later. More importantly, tell him to get here as quickly as possible.”
“Do you think she will try to take the jewels?” Sophia frowned.
“I would like to say not, but I believe it would depend on how much she needs that money.”
Sophia nodded. “When will I see you again?”
She was aware of the fine bristles on his jaw touching her lips and shivered with sensual awareness.
Jeb turned to face her. Their lips brushed. “Come for another picnic with me tomorrow, but this time, I will take you to Briggleberry. We can have a picnic in the orchard. Don’t bring anything. The cook will arrange all of that. I will collect you say, eleven o’clock?”
“That would be lovely,” she whispered.
The kiss he gave her before he left was hard and swift, but left her reeling just the same as if it had been a slow and thoughtful possession the likes of which they had shared beside the riverbank. Once again, she watched him turn out of the gate at the end of the garden on weakened knees.
“I want you to break all association with that man immediately.” Delilah’s voice was cold and hard and directly behind her.
Sophia closed her eyes and held the lingering warmth of the blossoming feelings in her heart for Jeb as long as she could before she slowly shut the door.
“I shall do no such thing. Given that Jeb is a man of wealth and good standing, he cannot be called into question. I will remind you that my choice of an associate is considerably better than yours. With that in mind, you should not consider yourself at liberty to tell me who I shall and shall not see. After all, you have clearly shown you have no consideration for the family name, so cannot accuse me of trying to sully it. If you won’t be told what to do, neither will I.”
Before Delilah could issue any more ludicrous orders, Sophia made her way to her room to choose her outfit for the forthcoming ball.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jeb left Sophia in Delilah’s house, but it was the last thing he wanted to do. Something about the last hour left him extremely uncomfortable. He felt as though he was missing a vital clue, but as he ran over everything in his mind was at a loss to know what it was.
At first, he was miles away as he meandered through the village toward Briggleberry. It was only when he was halfway home that he began to sense he was being followed. When he turned the corner at the end of the main street, a sudden flurry of movement vanishing into what he suspected was a side alley caught his eye. He took a moment to pretend to adjust his boot and saw someone in a dark pair of trousers, a white shirt, and brown jacket about twenty or thirty feet behind him. Suspecting this was the same man who had met with Delilah; Roland Myers, Jeb resumed his journey but deliberately slowed his pace so he had time to look around.
&nbs
p; His knew that the only way of finding out where this man was staying was to follow him. With this in mind, he decided to take a short cut across the fields. That took him down a country lane with nothing bracketing it except for a small stone wall. To follow him would mean being visible, but this didn’t appear to bother Myers, who ambled along behind keeping a steady pace.
Jeb grinned. Familiar with the area, he took a circuitous route that would take him to a small copse that would temporarily block him from view. His good friend Archie had once told him of the perfect place to hide if he was being followed and he used that to his advantage once he was out of sight.
“Find some trees and go up,” Archie had declared. Jeb had looked at him askance for a moment. “When people are in a dangerous situation, especially when they are following or looking for someone, they rarely think to look up.”
Jeb smiled as he thought about his good friend and wondered if his wife had presented her husband with a new child yet. The last time he had seen Portia, she had been so large with their third child she had practically waddled when she walked. His smile widened when he considered the last time he had visited the large, rambling house that was seemingly full of chaotic noise and confusion. There had been children running everywhere because Jamie had been visiting with his wife, Cecily, and their four children. Jeb’s ears had still been buzzing the day after he had left but he didn’t care one bit.
He rather envied his friends their contentment in life and, not for the first time, had begun to reconsider his own future. Was it possible that he could have the same level of contentment with Sophia that his friends had with their wives? For the first time in his life he was starting to believe that yes, he most definitely could.
He sat on the highest branch that was robust enough to bear his weight and watched Myers walk through the copse twice. He stopped, glanced around, then let out a blistering curse as he scratched his head and tried to work out how someone Jeb’s size could simply disappear. Moments later, after more vicious curses, Jeb watched Myers leave. Thankfully, from his viewpoint he was able to see Morwenna Banks’ house. He was able to keep his quarry in sight while protected by the thick branches and lush foliage. It made his job a heck of a lot easier, especially when the man walked into the door at the rear of the house with a familiarity that was nothing short of arrogant.
“So, are you the killer or his accomplice?” Jeb thought over the strange events that had happened in London of late, especially the circumstances surrounding the way the bodies were strangled. The Star Elite believed the killer had an accomplice; was Myers it, or the killer?