The Theft (Thornton 2)

Noelle stood, wrapping the earrings in a handkerchief and carefully placing them in her pocket. Then she lay a gentle palm on Mary's quaking shoulder. "Thank you. I can't tell you how important what you've just relayed might be to finding your mistress's killer. But Mary…"—Noelle waited until the maid raised her head and met Noelle's purposeful gaze—"I'm going to ask of you the very favor you asked of me. Don't repeat this conversation to another soul. No one. And not only to protect Lady Mannering's reputation or to safeguard your job. To ensure your wellbeing. If the man we've just discussed is guilty of murder, he won't hesitate to kill anyone who might possess damning information about him. So please, for your own safety, let Lord Tremlett deal with this matter. Forget everything you just told me."

Wide-eyed, the maid nodded. "I will."

"As will I." Noelle squeezed Mary's shoulder, then turned to leave. "And thank you again, Mary. Lady Mannering would be extremely proud and grateful for your loyalty and friendship."

* * *

Ashford was pacing the grounds just inside the gates of the Bromleigh Town house when Noelle arrived home a half hour later. He came to an abrupt halt when he saw her climb down from the carriage.

"Ashford!" Noelle's face lit up, and she swung open the gate and hurried in. "When did you—?"

"Where's Grace?" he demanded, scanning the empty street behind her.

"I talked Papa into letting me go alone. Grace is so overbearing, I was afraid I'd accomplish nothing if she were with me. But Papa's driver took me to and fro. I'm fine, truly." Noelle inclined her head, gave him a teasing look. "Is this your idea of a proper greeting? You haven't seen me in two days."

Ashford made a raw sound and, abandoning any aura of reserve or adherence to protocol, he reached out and tugged her to him. "I worry every time you're out of my sight," he muttered, enfolding her close. "And I miss you so damned much it's unbearable."

"That's better. Much better." With a soft sigh, Noelle rubbed her face against his coat. "I'm so glad you're here. When did you arrive?"

"I rode like a highwayman fleeing through the streets. My carriage will never be the same. I stopped off at my Town house, flung my bags into the hallway, and raced right over here. I've been waiting for you for an hour."

Leaning back, Noelle smiled. "You could have gone in, you know. Papa would have enjoyed the company. I'm sure he's pacing inside much like you're pacing outside."

"But if I'd gone in and paced with your father, I couldn't have greeted you like this." With an irreverent glance at the few passing carriages, Ashford drew Noelle behind the shelter of a tree, tipped up her chin, and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, cradling her head in his hands and gliding his fingers through the silken strands of her hair. "I ached for you," he murmured against her lips. "I lay awake all night aching for you. I'm not sure which is worse: sleeping under the same roof as you and exercising self-restraint, or knowing I'm miles away from you and can't hold you in my arms."

"Both." Noelle's fingertips caressed his jaw, and she studied his face intently, searching for the answer she prayed she'd see—the answer he'd gone in search of, and which would determine their future. "Did you accomplish what you set out to? Did you resolve that commitment you needed to reassess?"

Conflicting emotions warred in Ashford's eyes—affirmation tempered by caution. He looked eager to blurt something out, yet obligated to keep it concealed. "Yes," he said carefully. "As a matter of fact, I did."

"At Markham."

Ashford didn't look away. "Yes, at Markham."

Relief swept through Noelle at the immediacy of his response. Perhaps she'd been wrong about the inner struggle she'd perceived. Perhaps he was ready to tell her everything, to let go of whatever ties were binding him to the past and keeping him from her.

"Then we can talk?" she asked pointedly. "I have much to tell you, but nothing as significant as what you have to tell me."

No, she hadn't been wrong. There was that conflict again, raging in his eyes: understanding of her meaning, certainty of his feelings—and a compulsion to remain silent. But why?

"Ashford?" she pressed.

"Yes, we can talk—soon." He softened the vagueness of his reply by turning his lips into her palm, brushing it with a tender kiss. "But for now, I want to hear what you accomplished at the Mannerings'. That is where you just came from, isn't it?"

"Yes." Noelle frowned, Ashford's evasiveness was far too ambivalent to suit her. "But—"

"Come, tempête," he urged, plainly trying to lighten the mood and change the subject. "Much as I'd like to stay out here and kiss you until the last rays of sunshine fade into dusk, I think it would be unwise. Eventually the passing phaetons would begin to stop and their occupants to stare. We'll succeed in causing a scandal, not to mention enraging your father." A grin. "And he was just beginning to like me."

"You're talking in riddles," Noelle pronounced. "And you're trying to distract me. Don't think for a minute I don't realize that." Sighing, she dismissed the matter—for now. "Fine. We'll deal with my meeting with Mary first. As for Papa, he'll want to hear those details, too. He's been on edge all day."

Ashford's grin faded and his eyes narrowed. "On edge—why? Did that son of a bitch Sardo—?"

"No." Noelle waved away that worry. "André showed up on our doorstep yesterday, about an hour after we arrived. We were still settling in. Papa told him in no uncertain terms that I was unavailable, utterly exhausted, and not receiving callers for at least another two days—in a tone that left no room for argument. André accepted Papa's decree and went away. He hasn't been back since."

"Lucky for him. Now he can continue to live—for now."

Noelle couldn't help but smile at the intensity of Ashford's words. "I adore your jealousy, unwarranted though it may be. I only wish that you—" She broke off, shelving her myriad questions, at least until the outcome of her meeting with Mary had been discussed, and she and Ashford could find a few minutes alone.

Besides, she was eager to share the results of her day with him and to show him the possible clue Mary had given her.