Chapter Eleven
Dalton found Regina at the far end of the garden. She had reached to grasp a tree limb and was struggling to pull herself up. Her petticoats tangled with her legs, and she couldn’t quite gain a foothold.
He strode across the gravel pathway and asked, ‘Do you need help?’
‘I never expected tree-climbing to be this difficult,’ she admitted. ‘I really should have borrowed a pair of trousers from the stable lad.’
Dalton thought about having a pair made for her. It was not ladylike, aye, but he very much wanted to see the rounded curve of her backside in the trousers. And then he could remove them later.
He came closer to the tree and gathered her into his arms. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked. In answer to her question, he lifted her high until she could grasp the thick branch and pull herself over. Regina was laughing as she struggled, but she managed to take a seat. ‘Thank you for your help.’
Dalton climbed up after her, and he chose the branch next to hers. ‘As trees go, the one you chose wasn’t so bad.’
‘I don’t think it’s in any danger of breaking.’ She tried to adjust her skirts and held on to the tree trunk.
Dalton climbed nearer and stood on a branch below hers. He rested both hands on either side of the tree, trapping her in his embrace. Regina touched his hair, and he murmured in a low voice, ‘Did you enjoy last night?’
‘Yes.’ Her arms wound around his neck, and he captured her lips, kissing her hard. She returned the kiss, and he wanted to coax her into more.
‘Thank you for not sending my father away,’ she whispered. ‘He’s made so many mistakes, but I don’t want him to go to prison.’
Dalton touched a strand of her hair and slid it behind one ear. ‘I will protect you, and your family, Regina.’ He stole another kiss and added, ‘But I need to talk to you about the Bow Street Runner.’
He didn’t blame Lord Havershire, if he had indeed arranged for Mallencourt’s death. But he now understood why the blackmailer was such a grave problem. ‘I received a letter from the Runner this morning. He’s travelling here to speak with us.’
Her face paled, and she shook her head. ‘I don’t want to speak to him. If he’s caught the blackmailer, that’s good, but why would he come here?’
‘He may need you to testify in court against the blackmailer. I imagine that’s all it is.’
But Regina was already climbing down from the tree. ‘I don’t want to see him, Dalton.’ She appeared unsettled, and he guessed it was because she was afraid of what the Runner had learned.
‘Then perhaps he could speak with your father. We have to put an end to the blackmail.’ He wanted Regina to know that he would do anything to make her feel safe again. Only after she laid her fears to rest, could she look towards a future with him.
‘No!’ She let go of the branch and dropped the short distance to the ground. ‘I’m not about to subject Papa to an interrogation. Not after what’s happened with Miss Goodson. And he’s very ill right now.’ Her voice was tremulous, and Dalton climbed down to walk with her.
‘It will be all right,’ he said. The man had claimed that it was necessary to speak with Regina, and Dalton guessed it was because she could answer questions about the blackmail notes. But she was more fearful of him speaking to her father—likely to protect him.
‘Keep him away from me,’ she insisted. ‘Don’t let him come to Scotland.’
It was too late to send the man away, for he would arrive in a day or two. ‘He is already on his way,’ he admitted.
With that, she hurried away from him, making him wish he’d never told her. But although the Runner was coming here, he had promised Regina that he would put an end to the blackmail.
And he intended to see it through.
Regina put a leather lead on her dog, Arthur, and hurried down the pathway leading from the estate. Her emotions gathered up in a tight ball, and she was holding back tears. She knew Dalton believed he was helping her, but she was terrified that the Bow Street Runner had learned the truth about Lord Mallencourt’s death.
She couldn’t imagine any other reason why he would come to Scotland. If the Runner had merely learned the identity of the blackmailer, he would have sent a letter about the arrest. There was no need for him to come here, unless he had learned something more.
Arthur stopped to sniff the ground, and Regina’s fragile hold on the tears broke free. She let herself cry as she continued walking. But soon enough, she saw Dalton’s grandfather standing beside a stone wall. She wiped her tears away and approached him, wondering if he was lost.
‘Good afternoon, Lord Cairnross,’ she said. ‘Have you come to pay a call upon Dalton?’
The old man appeared confused for a moment. ‘Dalton,’ he repeated. ‘Nay, I’ve come to see Brandon.’
Regina’s heart sank, for she realised the earl was still caught up in the past. There was no sense in telling him that Brandon was dead. Instead, she drew closer and asked, ‘Would you like to walk with me?’
He brightened at that and offered his arm. ‘I should always be glad to escort a bonny lass,’ he answered. ‘Especially on a day as fine as this one.’
‘Why have you come to see Brandon?’ she asked.
‘He will be needing my instruction on how to manage the estate,’ the earl answered. ‘Such a hard-working, responsible lad he is.’ His smile deepened, and he asked, ‘Has Brandon begun to court you?’
She shook her head. ‘No, but Dalton has.’
The earl laughed heartily. ‘Dalton is still very young. You’ll have to wait a few years for him to grow up. But even when he does, Dalton is a wild one. His parents have had
