The Bride Wore Scandal

‘I can speak for most of the people here tonight, and I know they would not involve themselves in criminal activities.’

He nodded imperceptibly, his inscrutable gaze unwavering. ‘Since you are a respected lady of the community I believe you, for I do not believe you would include disreputable villains among your guests knowingly. But it is the remainder of those present who concern me. Thieves are suspicious men. Is there no one you can think of who fits the description?’ he pressed.

‘No—but—one hears things—rumours—of robberies on the highways and house breaking,’ she replied hesitantly. ‘It is inevitable, you will agree, for it goes on all the time and not just in this area.’

‘And you will agree that the villains need to be caught. Imagine how you would feel if they were to break in here and steal items you hold dear, family heirlooms that cannot be replaced. The stolen property will be sold and the more unusual the items, the more easily they are traced. If recovered, the property will provide valuable evidence against the thieves, who will otherwise be hard to identify. They may even be local men, but building a case against them … well—that is quite another matter. It is firm evidence I need.’ He moved closer so that they stood just inches apart. ‘Mark Bucklow, Miss Atherton. That is the name of the man I would very much like to find. I am sure you know who I mean.’

Christina’s heart gave a lurch and alarm flared in her eyes. Her throat tightened so much she was afraid it would strangle her. He turned from her and moved away slightly, giving her a moment to digest the name he had unexpectedly thrown at her. Unable to think of an answer, she tried to spare herself embarrassment by pretending confusion. ‘M-Mark Bucklow?’ she whispered. ‘I—I don’t understand,’ she said.

His deep voice was quiet, but his reply forbade further pretence from her. ‘I think you do.’

Christina stared at him. In response he lifted his brows, waiting for her to reply. ‘No, I’m not sure—’

He didn’t like her continued attempt to evade the issue, and he made it clear by saying, ‘You do know him, do you not? Or you will have heard of him. Are you saying you have not?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

He smiled at her continued evasiveness, a slow, strangely secretive smile that made his eyes gleam beneath their heavy lids. Christina was clever and sharp and noticed the nuances of that smile and she instantly sensed peril lurking behind it. It was the dangerously beguiling smile of a ruthless predator who wanted her to sense his power. She straightened her back, lifting her chin with a show of bravado. She had never allowed Mark Bucklow and the men who worked for him to see her fear—perhaps that was why they respected her more than her brother—and nor would she show this stranger that weakness.

‘I am sure there isn’t a person hereabouts who hasn’t heard of him, since his felonious activities have given him a certain notoriety. I dare say you might tell me he is as civil a gentleman as one could hope to meet, but somehow I don’t think so.’

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