“So I was right about you…you were using him to find the treasure,” Wentworth said.
“Of course,” Liliana answered as loftily as she could manage. “You don’t think I actually planned to marry into the family I hold responsible for my father’s death, do you?” She scoffed, hoping to come off as greedy as him. Greed understood greed. Maybe, if she sounded convincing enough, he’d believe her. “The treasure should belong to me for all that your family took from me.” She looked down at the pistol still lodged against her ribs. “However, I can be persuaded to share, I suppose…”
Wentworth laughed, a hollow sound, but better than the agitated desperation he’d exhibited earlier. He called out to the driver to turn the carriage toward Somerton Park, and Liliana nearly wept with relief.
“I’m afraid my debts will devour most of the treasure’s worth, my dear, and I’ll need the rest to make my escape from England, so there won’t be any left for you. However”—he nudged her with the pistol—“since I will be long gone from these shores, I suppose it won’t matter if I let you live. If you find the treasure for me and hand it over without a fuss, that is.”
Liliana didn’t believe that for a moment, but she pretended to contemplate her situation. She let out a forced sigh. “You leave me no choice.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
L
iliana gripped the seat, holding on to avoid being pitched to the floor. She could see little but uneven mounds of wildflower-covered ground through the thin sliver of carriage window beneath the shade.
“Stop the carriage here,” Wentworth called out, rapping on the ceiling. The conveyance lurched to a stop.
Liliana released her hold and tried to quell her churning stomach from the wild ride.
The door cracked open and she squinted against the harsh rays of sunlight that illuminated the carriage’s interior. She cast her gaze beyond the opening, trying to ascertain where on the property Wentworth had taken her. Panic buzzed in her chest. She didn’t recognize anything, not a landmark, not a copse of trees. He could have taken her anywhere.
“Let’s go,” he ordered, waving the pistol at the door. She moved slowly, inching her way off the seat and toward the opening, scanning the landscape. She’d need to keep her wits about her, look for an opportunity to escape. If she could just discover where she was, perhaps she could run.
Liliana kept her head down, faking submission or at least resignation. Hopefully, Wentworth would consider her less than a threat, giving her time to formulate a plan. She was glad she’d dressed in boys’ togs this morning…She wouldn’t be hampered by skirts if she chose to flee. She was younger than Wentworth by at least thirty years, so she might be able to outrun him.
Her eyes flitted to the weapon he kept trained upon her, as she analyzed her chances. A standard flintlock pistol wasn’t known for accuracy, particularly at a moving target. If she could just get ahead of him far enough, he’d have to stop chasing her in order to aim, and maybe—
“Stay here with the carriage,” Wentworth said to the man on the box. “Keep it at the ready. I’ll want to leave quickly when I return.”
When I return. Liliana’s stomach dropped despite the tight reign she kept on her emotions. Either Wentworth intended to let her go when she gave him the treasure, or he planned to dispose of her before escaping himself. Neither option boded well, for she hadn’t a treasure to give.
She wondered if she had any chance of appealing to the driver’s humanity to save her, but then he turned his face and shock ran through her—it was the man who’d searched her library. Wentworth must have sent him after the treasure. He would be of no help. She clenched her fist, drawing a breath meant to calm. She could only pray that she’d be able to string Wentworth along until she found a way out of this mess or until—
Wentworth stepped to her, taking her above the elbow. “Shall we?”
Liliana nodded, pretending a meekness she didn’t feel. Her muscles tensed with adrenaline. She tried to will her body not to waste the energy before she could use it, but it wouldn’t listen. Blood pumped through her and her skin tingled with the anticipation of flight.
Wentworth led her to the edge of the tree line. He was taking her into the woods? She could feel the thumping of her heart in her ears as breath became harder and harder to catch. Had he seen through her ruse? Was he planning to cut his losses now that she knew him to be a villain?
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, unable to control the fear in her voice.
“You didn’t think we’d just enter the front gates and stroll to the folly, did you?” Wentworth scoffed.
Her chest eased. He still planned to take her as far as the folly at least. The rest was up to fate.
Or to Geoffrey. She gambled on his distrust of her, a sorry state of affairs that just might save her life but would ultimately shatter her heart.
As she and Wentworth approached the edge of the forest, the markings of an old footpath became visible. It was well grown over now, but there was a definite, albeit tiny, break in the trees.
They walked in relative silence for several minutes, the noises of nature echoing around them. Wind blew through the trees, birds chirped as they flitted about feeding their young, twigs rustled as small creatures went about whatever business they had. Life in the forest carried on, oblivious to the drama unfolding within it.
A profound regret settled upon Liliana as realization became devastatingly clear. Her time with Geoffrey had shown that she had stopped living that long-ago December night when her father had been taken from her. Oh, she’d carried on outwardly, had made plans, had achieved successes, had imposed purpose to her existence. But she hadn’t lived where it mattered. She hadn’t lived in her heart. She had closed out those around her. She’d never really given people a chance. Not her aunt and uncle, who in their own way had wanted what they thought best for her. Not other girls who had tried to befriend her over the years. Not even men who had expressed interest. She’d never let any of them in, fearing to allow anyone close lest she lose them, too.
Until Geoffrey. He’d broken through her resistance with his gentle prodding, with his sense of humor, with his ability to nettle and challenge her yet his willingness to listen and affirm her. And what had she done? Broken his trust. Broken any chance that he could love her.
She should have told him everything the moment she realized he didn’t know about her father. She should have trusted him as the honorable man she knew him to be. But she’d selfishly wanted the magical time with him to never end, and because of that, she’d lost him, too.
And if a miracle didn’t happen, she’d never get the chance to tell him that he’d changed her, that he’d unlocked a part of her that maybe, someday, would heal. Though she’d lost his love, she wanted to thank him for opening her heart.
The footpath ended at a small stone circle. The rocks appeared ancient, and weathered boards covered the top. Liliana could now see that the footpath curved around it, heading off to the right.
“What’s this?” Liliana asked as they passed.