His father stared at him, and there was no denying that he didn’t want to be involved. But Dalton refused to back down.
‘I know I am not the son and heir you wanted,’ he said. ‘But I cannot stand by and do nothing. Regina is everything to me. I love her, and I will do everything in my power to help her.’
The earl regarded him with a long look. ‘You want me to use my influence to convince others that her family is blameless?’
‘If it’s possible, yes.’
His father’s expression turned grim. ‘It may not be. We cannot control what others think.’
‘I have a plan...though it is rather unusual. But if you help me save her, I will do whatever you wish of me. I will become like Brandon, if that is what you want.’
His father sighed and shook his head. ‘You could never be Brandon.’
The words stung, but Dalton nodded. ‘Then what is it you want? What can I do?’
His father reached out and touched his shoulder. The weight of his hand was startling, for he could not remember the last time the earl had touched him. ‘I never wanted you to be Brandon.’
‘You never told me what you did want,’ Dalton said.
His father stared off at the bookcase. ‘Grief is a difficult thing. There were times when I thought I was over his death, but then you would do something that reminded me of Brandon. It nearly brought me to my knees.’ John’s grip tightened on his shoulder. ‘Every time I saw you, I thought of him. You were more alike than you knew.’
An ache caught in Dalton’s gut at his words. ‘I thought you never wanted anything to do with me. Because I was the reason he grew sick. If I hadn’t taken him to see Gabriel—’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ John interrupted. He turned to face him squarely. ‘But losing a son isn’t something you ever get over.’
‘You still had a son left,’ Dalton said, his voice heavy. ‘And I knew I wasn’t the one you wanted.’
John looked as if he’d been struck in the face. ‘You believed that?’
Dalton shrugged. ‘What else was I to think?’
His father met his gaze for a long moment, searching for the words. ‘I only wanted you to curb your impulses and think before you acted. Being an earl means you have to put the needs of others before your own.’
‘I have,’ Dalton answered, his voice raw with emotion. ‘I am putting her above all else.’
For a long moment, John stared at him, as if taking his measure—as if he were seeing his son for the first time in years. At last, he answered, ‘Good. Then perhaps there’s hope for a new beginning. For all of us.’
Chapter Thirteen
In the dim light of the coach, Regina decided that she would no longer be a victim. The man had bound her hands in front of her, and she did not know who had hired him. He was little more than a thief-taker. But she would have her answers.
She pressed her face against the side of the coach until part of the handkerchief was caught against her cheek. Slowly, she pulled, until she managed to free it from her mouth. Her tongue was dry, but she managed to cough.
‘Clever thing, aren’t you?’ he said.
‘Not clever enough to avoid captivity,’ she remarked, coughing again. He barked a laugh at that and handed her a flask of something. She wasn’t certain what it was, but she took it with her bound hands and ventured a sip.
The whisky burned a path down her throat, but she managed to drink another swallow to clear her throat.
‘We’re stopping for the night soon,’ he told her. ‘If you’re a good girl, you can sleep in a room with me.’
Where she could be attacked? It wasn’t at all a good idea. ‘Why stop at all?’ she asked. ‘I assume you were paid to bring me to someone. Won’t you get more if you bring me there faster?’
He laughed again. ‘We have to change horses and get food. But if you want to keep travelling I’ve no objection.’
‘I would much rather continue travelling.’ She straightened and stared outside the window. ‘But I’d also like to know who hired you. And what your name is.’
He let out a snort and took a sip from the flask. Then his gaze drifted over her body. ‘I suppose you would. Hobson’s my name.’
She waited, but he did not reveal who had paid him to capture her. It was doubtful that this could be Lady Anne’s family. They had nothing at all. And if it were the authorities, then Mr Sidney would have taken her then.
No, it was someone else. A dark thought occurred to her, and she wondered if she dared voice it. The coach was slowing down, and she needed to know. ‘Did Mallencourt’s family pay you well?’
A sly smile spread over his face. ‘Clever, as I said.’
Dear God. If the Mallencourts had discovered that their son’s death was not an accident, it was possible that they could bring charges against her and her father. It would be difficult, but not impossible. If they had the money to hire a thief-taker, then what else would they dare?
‘Be a good girl and stay quiet while I get food and change the horses.’ He reached out and stroked her cheek before he tied her ropes to the interior of the coach.
Disgust roiled in her stomach, but she didn’t flinch at all. The more she cowered or surrendered, the more he would dare.
‘And if you’re friendly, I’ll keep you comfortable when they remand you into custody,’ he offered. ‘No chains to bruise this soft skin.’ He slid her hair back from her neck, resting his hand there.
Revulsion rose up, and she suppressed her shudder. All the horrifying memories of Mallencourt returned, along with the wrenching fear. But she forced herself to ignore him, giving him nothing for the liberties he’d taken.
He left the coach, and she
