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.He seemed such a gentle man, this woman must either be ridiculously coy or in a very bad state to refuse his help.By the time they reached the temple, Louisa was panting a little.She stopped in the doorway to catch her breath, her hand resting lightly on the door frame.Saunders swung his lantern in a circle.Louisa gave a cry and crossed the hard floor, swiftly going to her knees.The battered, bruised face of Harriet Burton stared up at her.There was no recognition in Harriet’s silvery eyes.She shrank back as Louisa reached out a hand to touch her.“Oh no!” What had he done to her? Logic told her she couldn’t be certain, but in her bones, she knew this was Radleigh’s work.Panic threatened to rise in Louisa’s throat, but she ruthlessly thrust it away.She needed to keep a clear head to help Harriet.Why was Harriet here? Had she been taken that night at the inn? Had she been in Radleigh’s power for all that time?Ah, dear God, what had he done to turn the fearless, flippant Harriet Burton into this cowering, bloody mess?Louisa put out her hand very slowly, murmuring soft assurances.She touched Harriet’s hand, which was gloveless, its fingernails torn.That featherlight touch made Harriet’s ragged breathing hitch, her eyes flare in panic.But she allowed it.“Yes, my dear, that’s right.I’m not going to hurt you.You’re safe now.”She didn’t know how true that was.She didn’t know where Radleigh might be, or whether he would be back, or why he’d let Harriet go.Had she managed to escape?Faulkner was in the village, staying at the inn.If Louisa could deliver Harriet to him, she’d be safe.She couldn’t afford to wait for a doctor, if one could be persuaded to come at this hour.She needed to get Harriet away from the estate and under Faulkner’s protection.Louisa turned her head a little to address Saunders.“I think she needs a doctor.Do you have some kind of transport? We must take her to the village without delay.”“Yes, of course.I’ll arrange it.” Saunders left her with the lantern and hurried away.She waited until she judged him out of earshot.“Harriet!” she whispered.“Harriet, don’t be afraid.I won’t hurt you.I’m here to help.”The blue eyes were glazed with horror.A large purple contusion swelled around her left eye.Her lips were mashed and bloody, as if someone had stomped on them.Or, as if she’d bitten through them in an effort to withstand excruciating pain.God only knew what injuries hid beneath that cloak.Had he broken bones? Louisa needed to persuade Harriet to let her touch her.She took Harriet’s hand, laid it gently on her own, palm to palm.“I’m here to help you, Harriet.Will you let me help?”Louisa waited, and then set Harriet’s hand down gently.With light, slow movements, she peeled away the man’s cloak that, presumably, Saunders had covered Harriet with.Louisa’s senses reeled at what she saw beneath.There was blood, lots of it.The strong, coppery smell filled her head, made her stomach churn.Whoever had done this to Harriet liked to use a knife.Deep slashes crisscrossed the swells of her breasts.With a hard swallow, Louisa suppressed a whimper of sympathetic horror.She turned to open the small medical chest Saunders had set down next to her.Painstakingly, carefully, she cleaned Harriet’s wounds, driving herself to continue, even though her heart hurt with every cry of agony Harriet gave.Gently, thoroughly, she tested joints and limbs for breakage, murmuring reassurances, wishing she could fold Harriet in her embrace and rock her and tell her all would be well.But it was clear that Harriet could barely stand the most necessary touch.This examination was pushing her beyond endurance.Finally, Louisa sat back wiping her hands on a piece of gauze.She was no expert, but she didn’t think any bones were broken.It looked as though whoever had done this confined themselves to the knife.The bruise on Harriet’s face and the livid chafing around her wrists and ankles appeared to be the only exceptions.It was enough.Far more than enough.Harriet stared straight ahead, and there was blind terror in those eyes, as if she was trapped in her own mind, reliving her experience, as if she didn’t know she was safe.“Oh, my dear.Who did this to you?” Louisa murmured.She was very much afraid she knew the answer.EighteenJARDINE unwrapped his fingers from Ives’s throat.“What the hell did you sneak up on me like that for? I could have killed you.”A strained wheeze was Ives’s only reply.He was bent double, panting, his bald pate glinting in the moonlight.Jardine experienced a faint tinge of remorse, but he suppressed it.He waited a good few minutes for the fellow to recover, wondering a little that Louisa hadn’t defied him and followed, after all.Perhaps, at last, she was learning obedience.His mouth twisted in a reluctant grin.Bloody unlikely, but one might always hope.He addressed Ives.“Well, you dirty little sneak.What do you have for me?”“Haven’t seen hide nor hair of any document, guv.Radleigh’s been going about his usual routine, far as I can tell.No furtive forays of any kind.He does spend a bit of time in that curiosity cabinet of his—”Jardine ground his teeth.Radleigh would die for that.Ives watched him, black eyes gleaming.“—But I dessay you know all about that, guv.”He hesitated.“The only other out of the ordinary is there’s someone else that lives in that house besides Radleigh and his sister.”“Who?”“Dunno, sir.Whoever it is, they has apartments in the old part of the house.That dry old stick of a housekeeper holds the key and she’s the only one in or out.No one else knows about it, or if they do, they’re being tight-lipped.”“An invalid, perhaps,” Jardine mused.He refused to countenance the theory that sprang eagerly to mind.He’d hoped beyond reason that Smith would be one of the guests at this house party.But things were never that simple, were they?Who was this unknown occupant?“Show me these apartments.”Their situation on the ground floor supported Jardine’s theory that an invalid occupied them, but he couldn’t be sure.He and Ives skirted the house silently.The mysterious apartments were on the opposite side of the house to the orangery.A heavy curtain shrouded the window.There was nothing to be seen from outside.Jardine gestured for Ives to take care of the casement.In seconds, Ives had the window open.Jardine eased himself inside, stood behind the curtains, listening.Nothing, not even the deep breathing of someone who slept.He peered into the room, saw that it was an antechamber of some sort, not the bedchamber itself.The door to the corridor lay open.The double doors opposite it were closed.Jardine crossed the room and pressed his ear to the panels.Angry voices rumbled within.Radleigh and.another man.Older.Could it be Smith?Heavy footsteps stomped toward him.Jardine only had time to sidestep and press against the wall before the door was flung open and Radleigh strode out.There was a whiff of something as he passed.The glimpse of dark patches on his coat.Blood?Fury exploded inside him, made him want to leap for Radleigh’s throat.But he couldn’t afford to let his passions rule him
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