“Given that both of us were feeling the same,” Drake started.
“Given that instinct was prodding both of you with very sharp claws?” Louisa clarified.
Somewhat tersely, Drake tipped his head her way. “Given that, we realized it was possible that the mastermind had circled around and was also heading toward the house rather than away.”
“Heading in your direction.” Christopher’s gaze hadn’t left Ellen’s face; his fingers tightened around hers. “When we caught up to you, he had the pair of you in his hold, trapped before him. But at that moment, you slumped, and Louisa broke free, and you snapped at her to run, which she did, and we realized what you’d done.” His gaze turned severe. “That was a very risky maneuver. You couldn’t know how he would react.”
Feeling held, captured, by his gaze, by the vulnerability he allowed her to see, she squeezed his fingers back and replied, “I gambled that he needed at least one of us as a hostage. I couldn’t think why else he’d bothered to seize us.”
Drake nodded. “As I said before, that was quick thinking, and you were right. He had to have some leverage to get what he needed to escape, and you were all he then had. He couldn’t risk harming or hurting you at that point.”
“Once we’d seen all that…” Christopher paused, then went on, “We realized he was making for the stable and more or less guessed what he would do. While organizing the parties, I’d been into the stable and knew there was a second door opening to a paddock at the rear. That door wasn’t visible from the main doorway or the area just inside the stable. So I left Drake to pick his moment and act as a distraction while I raced around the stable and came in via the paddock and the rear door. Once inside, the mob of stablemen and coachmen screened me from Rattling.”
“Then,” Drake said, smiling at Louisa, “it was up to me to draw Rattling’s attention and keep him focused on me as the sole threat.”
Ellen smiled at Drake, then returned her gaze to Christopher. “I have to admit I was never so grateful to see anyone in my life.”
Drake’s smile widened. “I feel compelled to point out that it was me you saw.”
“But,” Ellen countered, her hand tightening on Christopher’s, “as soon as I saw you, I knew Christopher was there. That was enough to bolster my courage.”
Everyone smiled at her, and Drake inclined his head in a half bow. “Your courage, my lady, was never in doubt.”
She shook her head at Drake and the rest of them, but her eyes, her gaze, her focus were all for Christopher.
He looked into her eyes and felt the tension of the last days—especially of the last hours—seep away.
What had Kirkpatrick said? Everyone was safe.
The mission had ended, the villain had been caught, and everyone Christopher cared about was hale and whole.
That reality sank in, yet couldn’t eradicate or even really mute his newly acquired understanding of…the vulnerabilities of love. Of the powerful swell of hopes, desires, passions, needs, and fears—most of all the fears—that seemed intricately and ineradicably entwined with loving and being loved.
If anything, the impact of those was worse than even he had imagined.
Yet Ellen sat beside him, unharmed and apparently content, and for now, he told himself that was enough and that he could stare his fill at her and bask in the warmth of her eyes and her smile.
Among those gathered, it seemed that all the immediate questions had been answered. By general consensus, they rose, made their farewells to Mr. Kirkpatrick and each other, and headed for the front hall.
As, hand in hand with Christopher, Ellen was about to quit the study, she glanced back to see Robbie standing beside Julia and speaking with Mr. Kirkpatrick.
Ellen smiled, glanced at Christopher, and still smiling, walked on.
Drake, Louisa, Toby, and Carter left in the carriage for the manor. Robbie had ridden over and, at this hour, would go directly to the stable for his horse before riding home to Bigfield House. Ellen looked up at the clear, midnight-black sky, settled her hand in Christopher’s, and with no need for any words to signal their intention, they descended the Hall’s front steps and set out to stroll through the summer night.
The moon had set, leaving the stars to be their guide. She raised her face to the silvery light and breathed deeply, savoring the scents that came to her on the light breeze—night-flowering stock, the lingering scent of cut grass, the zest of ripening hops, and the fainter aromas she now associated with tilled earth and bearing fruit trees.
Until she’d moved to Kent, London had been home for all of her life, yet, she realized, she didn’t miss the bustle of the streets, the constant noise and city sounds that filled one’s ears even in the dead of night.
Against her initial expectations, she felt more at home here—crossing grassy fields, strolling beneath the branches of an orchard, pausing to climb a stile.
There was a peace in the country she hadn’t known she was missing until she’d come to live there, but now she’d experienced it, grown to savor it, she couldn’t imagine leaving that peace behind.
They were walking through the Bigfield House apple orchard when Christopher, his gaze on the ground, murmured, “Your brother seems to have…I think the correct phrase is ‘grown into his own’ over the past weeks.”
She pondered that, then replied, “He stepped up when I started to spend more of my time helping you with the investigation.” She paused, then, knowing it was right, stated, “I had to get out of his way and give him room to grow. I hadn’t realized that.” She glanced at Christopher’s face. “That by filling the role that was rightfully his, I was holding him back.”
He met her eyes, searched them, then gently smiled. “I think it was more a case of the right happening at the right time. The investigation drew you away, giving him the chance to show you, himself, and all others what he was capable of, and”—with his head, he indicated Goffard Hall behind them—“the events of the last weeks have placed him in positions that have forced him to mature still further.” His smile grew deeper. “In truth, I’ve been impressed by his willingness to learn and how rapidly he’s done so. And he’s found his way in dealing with Kirkpatrick, too.”
Ellen pressed her shoulder to Christopher’s arm. “Thank you on his behalf.” After a second, she slipped her hand free and wound her arm with his. “Although Robbie will always be my little brother, I know it’s time to let go.”
She felt Christopher’s gaze touch her face.
“So you won’t be returning to your previous role of running virtually everything at Bigfield House?”
She pulled a rueful face. “That wouldn’t be fair, now we know Robbie can manage.” She slanted a glance upward and met Christopher’s eyes. “I’ll have to look for some other endeavor to occupy my time.”
They’d reached the shrubbery and were walking beside the long pool. Ahead, the archway framed a section of the side of Bigfield House.
Christopher slowed and halted, and as Ellen obliged and halted, too, he drew her to face him. Their gazes locked and held; his was hopeful, hers curious. “We worked as partners throughout the investigation. Perhaps, together, we can put our minds to finding a new endeavor to fill your time.”