Checkmate, My Lord

chapter Fifteen


August 14

The pleasant breeze blowing across the lake did nothing to alleviate Catherine’s concern for Sebastian. This morning, after failing to rouse him from slumber, she went on to meet with each of the craftsmen, then returned to report her progress. That’s when she had received the unwelcome news from Lord Danforth that Sebastian was unwell.

Not considering the impropriety of the request, Catherine had asked to see him. The viscount refused admittance, and her angry reaction ignited a disagreeable argument that continued to ring in her ears, even hours later.

Mama, you have that funny look again.”

Catherine glanced down at her daughter. They sat on a large flat rock at the lake’s edge, their bare feet dangling in the murky water below. “What look is that, dear?”

Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s the same one Papa used to get when he sat alone in the library.”

An image of Jeffrey’s faraway expression materialized. Catherine knew it well. In the beginning, she had wondered about it, had often asked him about its source. But after so many evasions and insulting quips, she had stopped wondering and asking.

I’m sorry, Sophie,” she said. “I learned this morning that Lord Somerton was not feeling well, so my thoughts had turned toward his progress.”

May we take him some of the biscuits Cook and I made last night?”

Catherine smiled. How she loved this little girl. “That’s very thoughtful, Sophie. When we return to the house, I’ll send Mrs. Fox a note to inquire about his lordship’s welfare.” She kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “I have a surprise for you.”

Sophie lit with delight. “A surprise for me?” She tore off a piece of bread and tossed it into the water.

Smaller bits, pumpkin. You don’t want the fish to mistake our toes for your bread.”

Yes, Mama.” She followed words to action. “Do I have to wait until Saturday?”

I’m afraid so.”

Her little face fell. “Oh, I wish you hadn’t told me. I will go mad thinking about my surprise.”

In that case,” Catherine said, “I probably shouldn’t tell you that it has to do with Bellamere’s stables.” She still found Sebastian’s change of heart amazing. One day he didn’t want her daughter underfoot, and the next he’s inviting Sophie into his inner sanctum.

The earl’s stables?” Sophie dropped the whole slice of bread in the lake and clambered up on her knees to squeeze Catherine’s face between her grubby hands. “Tell me about the stables, Mama. Please, oh, please, oh, please.”

Catherine laughed, hugging her daughter to her, but the horse-crazed girl was having none of it.

Mama, this is serious.” Her daughter’s breath caught and her eyes widened in excitement. “Am I going inside?”

Nodding, Catherine said, “At Lord Somerton’s personal invitation.”

You mean I don’t have to sneak in?”

Have you?”

Sophie shook her head. “No, but Teddy and I have been plotting ways to see the earl’s horses.”

Catherine bit her lip and forced her features into stern lines. “No, young lady.” She gave her daughter a little shake to emphasize her point. “There will be no sneaking in anywhere. Lord Somerton will personally introduce you to his horses.”

Sophie whooped as she threw her arms around Catherine’s neck and pressed a dozen smacking kisses on her face. “Must I wait until Saturday? I will die with antishipation.”

Yes, you do.” Catherine tweaked her daughter’s nose. “And where is all this drama coming from?”

What do you mean, ‘drama’?”

She settled her daughter more comfortably across her lap and pulled a cucumber sandwich from the nearby basket. “You are experiencing some extreme emotions, my dear. Mad, serious, die. Quite unlike you.” More than normal, Catherine amended.

Oh, that,” she said around a mouthful. “Eloisa Walker’s older sister is very sophishticated. She knows all the important words.”

Well, if you’re going to mimic your elders, you must listen carefully. You will die with anticipation and Eloisa’s older sister is very sophisticated.”

She nodded her head. “Yes, exactly.”

Catherine’s smile was bittersweet. Although the Walkers had a penchant for gossip, they treated Sophie as one of their own. With four girls and three boys, the Walkers provided her daughter something Catherine never could. Brothers and sisters.

She had always wanted a large family, not as large as the Walkers, but three or four children would have brought her immense joy and, when the time came, many grandchildren. Being an only child herself, she knew the challenges Sophie faced.

Mama, who is that man?”

Catherine jerked her head up, her thoughts going to Sebastian. Even though they had been apart for less than a day, she looked forward to seeing him again and feeling his strong arms wrapped around her. She examined one side of the lake to the other, but saw no familiar—or otherwise—masculine figure. “I don’t see anyone, dear.”

Sophie pointed her half-eaten sandwich at a cluster of trees and tall bushes to Catherine’s right. Pushing her daughter’s hand down, she tried to piece together greens and browns and pale yellows into a recognizable form. When she was on the verge of giving up, something stirred, and Catherine realized she was looking too high.

Adjusting her gaze, she concentrated harder until finally a face emerged. Bulbous, watery eyes, wide forehead, thin, greasy hair, and yellow, neglected teeth. Catherine’s blood froze in her veins.

The disgusting little man from the butcher’s shop had visited her thoughts often since their first encounter. Each time, her uneasiness grew. And now, he was in their private sanctuary, observing them with an unholy gleam in his eyes. But who was he and why was he following her?

With a surreptitious sweep of the area, Catherine considered their options. He had picked his location well. In order to return to the house, she would have to pass his hiding spot. She could take the southern footpath, but that would lead them through a dense woodland before turning back east. The isolated nature of the route troubled her more than walking by the man.

She could head west, to Sebastian’s estate, even though that way lay an uncertain welcome. But, like the southern route, the west footpath would still take them past the stranger.

Do you see him, Mama?”

Yes, pumpkin.” She set her daughter away. “Put on your stockings and shoes, please.”

Must we go? I want to hear more about my surprise.”

Do as I say, and we will discuss it all you want. Up at the house.”

Catching the note of authority in Catherine’s voice, her daughter ended her protest and did as told. Catherine picked up her own discarded footwear. When they were ready to go, Catherine knelt down in front of Sophie. “Listen closely, sweetheart, but do not be alarmed.” She waited for her daughter’s nod. “We’re going to walk past that man, but I do not want you to speak with him or acknowledge him in anyway. Is that understood?”

Uh-huh,” Sophie said, looking toward the man’s location.

That includes staring.”

Sophie’s eyes flashed to Catherine’s. In a stage whisper, she said, “Is he a bad man? Papa warned me about them.”

I don’t know.” Why were the men in her life never around when she needed them? “And I don’t intend to find out today.” She glanced around the area to make sure they had retrieved all of their belongings. “Ready?”

Her daughter tunneled her hand into Catherine’s. “Ready.”

Catherine kept their pace steady and sure, chatting along the way to help keep Sophie’s attention on other things, rather than the man who followed their every move. It didn’t help. Curious by nature, her daughter could not stop glancing toward the clump of shrubbery protecting the man from her inquisitive eyes.

What did I tell you, young lady?” Catherine followed the query with a gentle pull-squeeze of her daughter’s hand.

Sophie whipped her head around so fast that Catherine was surprised she didn’t hear it snap. “Don’t talk to him or gape at him.” She angled around to look behind them. “But, Mama, he’s following us now.”

Catherine halted mid-stride. Her heart plummeted all the way down to her toes. When it started the slow, sluggish ride back up to her chest, a wave of murderous rage licked through her veins. She stashed Sophie behind her and met the man’s eerie gaze.

He stood thirty feet away, watchful and patient. He neither spoke, nor indicated chagrin for having been caught. Nor did he move.

What do you want, sir?” she asked.

His head tilted to the side like a dog’s did when considering the best way to pounce on a cat. He didn’t respond, only pointed toward her house.

She glanced between Winter’s Hollow and the ugly man, trying to understand his unspoken message. The attempt only confused her more.

Grabbing her daughter’s hand, Catherine pushed them into a faster pace. She nudged her daughter in front of her, aiming to keep herself between Sophie and the awful man.

He cut them off.

Stand aside, sir,” Catherine said. “We’re on our way to meet with Lord Somerton.”

Shaking his head, he once again indicated the path leading them to Winter’s Hollow.

As Catherine’s grip tightened around Sophie’s small hand, a keen sense of vulnerability shook her to the core. She had no options. Though he was a small man, Catherine detected a wiry strength about him. If they tried to run, he would catch them.

Mama,” Sophie whispered.

The strange man’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward.

Making up her mind, she gave her daughter’s hand a reassuring squeeze and marched toward Winter’s Hollow, praying she hadn’t sentenced them to a terrible fate. An image of Meghan McCarthy’s broken body surfaced, and Catherine’s terror knew no bounds. Had this man killed her? Was he the elusive father? She shoved aside the repulsive thought.

When they reached the garden, Catherine glanced back and found their tormentor gone. She hurried them through the gate and into the house. Once she clicked the lock in place, she felt a measure of relief until her maid Mary entered and announced that she had a visitor. “A Mr. Cochran to see you, ma’am.”

Catherine kissed Sophie’s forehead. “All is well now, sweetheart. Run along upstairs and change your clothes while I speak to our guest. I’ll be up in a little while to check on you.” She turned her daughter around and nudged her toward the servants’ staircase.

Her daughter pinched the sides of her frock, looking for splats of dirt and bits of grime. “Mama, there’s nothing wrong with this dress.”

No, there’s not,” she agreed. “But it’s your play dress, not your house dress. Up you go.”

Sophie groaned, but did as told. Her progress up the narrow stairs had all the signs of a convict headed to the gallows.

Mary, please see Miss Sophie to the nursery,” Catherine said.

Oh, Mama.”

Catherine allowed herself a small smile as she watched the two make their way up to the third floor. Once they turned the corner, Catherine rushed to the window to peer outside. Her gaze slashed from tree to tree, building to building, shadow to shadow. But nothing moved or appeared out of place. Everything seemed oddly untouched, yet frightfully violated.

She checked the lock on the kitchen door again and made her way to the drawing room. When she entered, she found the Foreign Office official lounging on her sofa, an easy expression on his handsome face. “Mr. Cochran, this is an unexpected surprise.” Again. After their last meeting, she had not looked forward to their next.

He did not rise to greet her. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Ashcroft. I’m afraid our former timeline has been compromised. Have you the list?”

Catherine strode farther into the room. “There is no list, sir.”

What do you mean?”

I had occasion last evening to search his lordship’s library, study, and even his bedchamber, and none contained a list of secret agents.” The only names she found were the two tucked under the earl’s ink blotter—Sebastian Danvers and Jeffrey Ashcroft. Hardly a list.

Yes,” he said with a slight curl to his lip. “I heard you spent the night with Somerton.”

Catherine clenched her teeth. “Perhaps the intelligence you received regarding Lord Somerton’s involvement with the Nexus was wrong.”

I can assure you,” Cochran said, “the information I shared with you is quite accurate.”

Then maybe his lordship has not compiled the list yet.”

Could it be that you have not looked well enough?”

His humoring smile made her jaw clench. “Where else would I search, sir? Based on what I have witnessed, Lord Somerton is not a threat to anyone. Quite the contrary, actually. He’s been nothing but helpful to those in need. What you are accusing him of simply makes no sense.”

All men, even those with evil intent, have a weakness. It is how governments do business, madam. They find the other’s weakness and exploit it.” He tapped his two forefingers against his lips, considering her for a moment. “The better question here is which one of the Ashcroft women is Lord Somerton’s greatest weakness?”

Cochran’s piglet gaze sent a rush of wary tingles down her spine. Why had she never noticed his close-set eyes before? “What can you mean, sir?”

A pregnant pause, then the official’s face split into an affable smile. “I mean nothing at all. My mind tends to venture off course at the most inconvenient times.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Catherine said, “Sir, I have made a gross miscalculation in my eagerness to bring my husband’s killer to justice. I can no longer assist you in this endeavor.”

Cochran released a sigh. “That is not good news, my dear. Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?”

Catherine shook her head. “No, nothing, sir. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

Cochran rose from his chair, pulling at the sleeves of his forest green coat to smooth out the wrinkles. “This exercise wasn’t a waste of time, madam,” he said, strolling toward the door. “It’s always best to attempt the path of least resistance, don’t you agree?”

Catherine stared at Cochran, not understanding his cryptic remark. “Excuse me?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Give me but a moment and I’ll explain.” He turned and disappeared down the corridor.

When Catherine heard the front door open, she made her way to the window overlooking the small circular drive. Outside Cochran’s carriage stood a short, wiry man with a balding pate interspersed with clumps of stringy brown hair.

Recognition crashed into her chest like an angry bull trying to breach a fence. Cochran joined the stranger, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder while he spoke. The little man listened intently, lifting his gaze in Catherine’s direction before scurrying away.

She stepped back, her throat closing around a string of questions. After a couple seconds, she craned her head around the draperies to see Cochran open the carriage door. He reached inside—

From the direction of the entrance hall, a door slammed, pulling Catherine’s attention away. Then the sound of pounding boots running up the stairs stopped her heart cold. Sophie was upstairs.

She flew across the drawing room and into the corridor while her mind frantically attempted to understand what was going on. When Catherine reached the bottom of the staircase, it was empty.

She lifted the hem of her dress, preparing to go after the stranger, when a noise from behind stopped her. She whipped around to find Cochran reentering her house with a pretty mahogany-haired woman on his arm. The errant thought that the woman looked none too happy swept through Catherine’s jumbled mind.

What is going on?” Catherine demanded. Her mind screamed for her to run upstairs, to find the strange man and her daughter. Inching her way up one step, then another, she tried again. “Mr. Cochran, who are these people? Why have you brought them into my home?”

Cochran glanced over her shoulder. “In due time, madam.”

Catherine followed his gaze. Nothing.

She returned her attention to the couple below her and then eased up one more stair.

Cochran motioned for her to come down. “Perhaps we’d all be more comfortable in your drawing room.”

A feminine screech sounded from above. Mary. Her fear—barely controlled—unleashed, and she bolted up the stairs.

Stop,” Cochran ordered. “Silas won’t hurt them. No guarantees, though, if you charge up there.”

Catherine halted, gasping for air. Every instinct she owned urged her onward, but Cochran’s threat kept her pinned in place, helpless in a way she’d never experienced before. Then she heard her daughter’s furious voice a moment before the little man—Silas—appeared, dragging her resisting daughter down the corridor.

Sophie.” Catherine started after her daughter, but a large hand grasped her arm.

Cochran’s cold gaze met hers. “I told you. My man has everything under control.”

Mama!”

Silas slung Sophie over his shoulder. Her small hands pounded against his back, shoulders, head, anything she could reach. “Let me down, you rabbity beast.”

Catherine jerked hard on her arm and winced when pain shot up to her shoulder. She clawed at Cochran’s restraining grip, and his other hand grasped her throat, forcing her chin into an unnatural angle.

I said stay.”

Mama!”

Unable to move her head, Catherine’s eyes found her daughter. “Be still, Sophie.” Her fear for her daughter’s safety was as palpable as the hands restraining her. “Mama will take care of everything.”

Cochran chuckled, his thumb raking across her lips. “Will you, indeed?”

Release me at once.” Her sight was becoming blurrier by the second.

His nails bit into the tender flesh of her neck and then he pushed her down the stairs.

Sophie yelled.

Catherine scrambled for purchase, her world a whirl of images until she caught the balustrade. Cochran came up behind her, grasping her arm and towing her the rest of the way down, giving her no time to catch her breath. Catherine tried to keep her daughter in sight, but failed.

Mama!”

She fought back tears. “Be strong, Sophie.” She twisted around to meet her daughter’s frightened gaze. “It will be all right.”

Do you promise?”

Catherine hesitated a moment too long, for her perceptive daughter began to struggle in earnest, kicking and pounding on her captor.

Say it, Mama. Say it.”

Quiet,” Silas ordered with a smack to Sophie’s behind.

Leave her alone,” Catherine demanded, fighting Cochran’s grip.

Silas’s scold did nothing more than stun her daughter into speechlessness for a half second. Enough time for Cochran to yank hard on Catherine’s arm, making her cry out and forcing her toward the drawing room.

Away from Sophie.