Never Dance with a Marquess (The Never Series Book 2) - Maggi Andersen (philippa perry book .txt) 📗

the house. An hour passed. As Nicholas continued along the riverbank, one of his footmen who had joined the search emerged from the trees.

He held up a handkerchief. “Found this in the grass, milord.”

Nicholas reached down and took it from him. A dainty piece of muslin edged in lace. His first thought was that it could belong to a lady riding the bridle path in the past and blown there by the wind, but the material was dry and unmarked. And there had been a shower yesterday. “It could be Bella’s. Where did you find it, Jerry?”

“The south meadow, milord.”

Nicholas turned Aquilo’s head and rode toward the meadow. He urged his horse over a fence and rode at full gallop toward a distant band of trees. What could have drawn Bella here? Surely she would not have been abducted. The estate grounds were extremely safe. Then something occurred to him, and he wheeled his horse around.

The wanderer camp occupied a field on his land to the north. The gypsies settled there once a year, with his blessing. Last week, his bailiff had told him they’d returned. There was an unspoken agreement: they could catch rabbits as long as they didn’t enter the woods and disturb his birds. Occasionally, the home farm sent a side of lamb for their pot. It kept relations cordial. He’d had no trouble with them. Peace-loving people, most of them, who traveled about England, but there were always a few bad eggs capable of the worst crimes, which right now made his blood run cold.

As he drew closer, smoke wafted through the trees. He heard music. They had tied their ponies to the fence near a wagon. Entering the clearing, Nicholas searched for Bella among the tents clustered in a wide circle around the fire. He couldn’t see her. Dismounting, he led his horse across the grass.

The men turned suspicious eyes upon him as he approached. Their women folk stared at him from where they sat nursing their babies, their children playing at their feet. The leader, Vano, a handsome, swarthy-faced man in leather breeches with a yellow scarf tied around his neck, emerged from the group and hailed him.

He reached Nicholas and stood, his legs slightly spread in an arrogant stance. “’Tis a privilege to welcome you to our humble camp, m’lord. That’s a very fine bit of horseflesh if yea don’t mind me sayin’.”

Nicholas nodded. “Good day to you, Vano. I am searching for my ward, Miss Arabella Leeming. It appears she’s got lost.”

“Lost m’lord? She seems happy enough.”

The men parted to reveal Bella clapping her hands in time to the women’s tambourines.

Nicholas sagged with relief. He turned to Vano. “Did you bring her here?”

“Aye. I did. Found her alone and thought it better, seeing as a man has been lurking around our camp of late.”

Nicholas frowned. “A traveler, Vano?”

“Aye. Kept to himself once he knew he’d not be welcome here.”

“Thank you for taking care of Miss Arabella. But you might have brought her home.”

“And get gunshot in me rump by your gamekeeper for me pains? I knew you’d come for her soon enough.”

“If you see this fellow again, send word, will you? I’ll have the home farm deliver some poultry to you.”

Vano, a proud man, gave a slightly mocking bow. “I’ll watch out, m’lord, but perhaps you should take better care of your women.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow. He turned and strode over to Bella. “What are you doing here, Bella?”

She cast him an anxious glance. “Oh. Nicholas. Isn’t this fun? We don’t have gypsies at Leeming.”

“You’re coming with me, now!” He grabbed her arm and hauled her toward his horse.

“Have I missed luncheon? I’m sorry. I lost track of the time.”

He mounted, then pulled her up behind him. Taking up the reins, he guided his horse back toward the river.

“Are you cross with me, Nicholas?” Bella asked in a small voice as he cantered the horse across a field.

“You’ve come a long way from the lake. How did you get here?”

“I met Vano at the river, and he invited me to visit his camp.”

“Did you see anyone else?”

“No. I’m sorry, Nicholas, I didn’t mean to walk so far.”

“You must stay close to the house, Bella. There are many hazards on this estate. You must be careful.”

Who was the man Vano spoke of? A poacher? He would give instructions to his bailiff and warn his gamekeeper. But he was too relieved to be angry.

“But the gypsies were very friendly,” she said regretfully.

“There are unscrupulous men in this world who would take advantage of a defenseless girl. Who would hear your cries? Who would come to your aid?”

He heard her gasp. He had been brutal, but he doubted she’d hear plain speaking from her sister. To a lesser extent, perhaps, but Carrie was also innocent of the ways of the world.

When they reached the house, Carrie stood on the driveway with Miss Scotsdale and a lanky young lad. Jeremy.

“Jeremy!” Bella cried, waving so violently she almost unseated herself.

“Steady.” Nicholas reined in and dismounted. When he helped her down, she ran with a sob to throw herself into Carrie’s arms. “Nicholas is cross with me, Carrie, because I visited the wanderer camp. Vano said it was perfectly all right. That I’d be safe. And I was.”

“Thank you for finding her, Nicholas.” Carrie’s gaze met his over her sister’s head. Her eyes were soft and glowed with emotion.

That look pleased him far too much. It went beyond wishing they were on friendly terms. “We’ll talk no more of this episode, Bella. I’m sure you’ll be more sensible in the future.” He needed a hearty slug of brandy. His nerves couldn’t take too much of this. He walked over to Jeremy, who stood waiting, his young face pale, his