Distraction

1812 Inland Spain

Hovering in the shadows of a crumbling Roman aqueduct, he studied the darkness for movement. He knew the bullet had hit its mark, but his nemesis had moved just as the shot rang out. Instead of the killing shot he had intended, he had just dealt a glancing blow. He saw the man scamper into the shadows of a deteriorated wall. It was hard to tell what was a remanent of the battles that had been taking place for years throughout the Iberian Peninsula and what was simply ruins from another time. He focused on the wall where his target had disappeared. He knew he had already vanished into the shadows. For the moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that his own plan would continue unhindered. Napoleon would be pleased. His nemesis’s inability to stop him meant that he could hand Napoleon the information he needed to exact a heavy toll on his enemies. He looked into the shadows, the scent of the flowering almond trees wafting down from the mountainside was overpowering at this time of year. It almost covered up the stench of death that seemed to permeate the entire peninsula. He knew his adversary was still there…waiting. If he wanted, he could finish him off. He had been a thorn in his side for a while. But, finishing him off would take time. Time he didn’t have. He knew eventually they would meet again. Giving a final look, he turned and slipped away into the blackness of the night.

1814 London, England

Winding through the throng of bodies, she attempted to shrug off the residual feeling of warmth that she felt every time she danced with him. Alexander Montgomery, the Earl of Lockwood was becoming a distraction. A tall, dark haired, impossibly hard distraction. She forced herself to smile pleasantly as she gracefully dodged a group of colorfully garbed women, the skirts of her own pale pink gossamer gown brushing gently against theirs as she moved past them. She doubted any of them even realized she was there.

She knew she was moving too fast but she wanted to put some distance between herself and Lockwood. If she didn’t, she knew she’d be tempted to linger. There had never been anyone who’s mere presence made her senses suddenly more acute, more aware. He was definitely a distraction and one she couldn’t afford right now.

She knew without looking he was tracking her movement across the room. She also knew if she could get to the opposite side of the room she could disappear. There was a fairly large group massed there that would block her from his line of sight. Forcing herself to slow down, she plotted her course and continued to forge her way through the crowds. With any luck, his friend would distract him long enough for him to loose sight of her.

“You have that look on your face.” Jacob Barton took a sip of his champagne as he watched his friend. Alex was vastly more entertaining to watch of late even with the ever increasing spectacle of Polite Society. It seemed as if each week of the Season brought out more and more ludicrous behavior. Alex’s behavior, on the other hand, was a little more targeted. Alex had always been mission focused to a fault and his current mission, much to his own dismay, was finding a wife.

Alex didn’t take his eyes off the woman as she moved through the crowded ballroom. Sophie Bennett had definitely captured his attention. In fact that seemed to be all he could think about these last several weeks. “What look?”

“That look you get when you’re pursuing a quarry. For those that don’t know you well, it’s simply a look of interest.” Jacob glanced around the room. “Most of the people in this room would assume you’re just stalking the next Countess of Lockwood.” Jacob took another sip of champagne. “But the few of us that know what you’ve been doing the last couple years would say you’re stalking something a little more dangerous. So what gives?”

“I am stalking the next Countess of Lockwood.” Alex purposely ignored the rest of Jacob’s comment. “What do you know about her?”

“Probably not much more than you’ve already discovered. You wouldn’t have gone this far without thoroughly investigating her.” Jacob took another sip of his champagne and thought through what he knew about Alex’s quarry. “Although there is something you might not know…did you hear about the girl that died a couple months ago? I think her name was Elizabeth Beckwith.”

Alex shook his head, eyes still trained on Sophie. “No.” Sophie had a habit of disappearing and he had yet to determine what she was doing. She was amazingly adept at moving swiftly through a crowd which made it difficult to keep track of her. The fact that she was a little on the short side didn’t help matters. He got the feeling that he was going to have to resort to physically following her in order to figure out where she was going. This was the third time it had happened. He suspected she just needed an escape from the crowded ballroom and was planning to step out into the garden but there was a little voice in the back of his head that told him he needed to make sure.

“I think it was right around the time your father died. You probably weren’t even in London. Miss Beckwith was friends with your Miss Bennett.” Jacob paused, “There were rumors about Elizabeth Beckwith’s death.”

Alex tore his eyes away from Sophie for a moment and glanced over at Jacob. “Rumors?”

“Not involving Miss Bennett, I assure you. By all accounts your future Countess is an unrivaled paragon. Someone who is unproblematic. Stays out of the spotlight. Miss Beckwith on the other hand was the exact opposite. She was gorgeous and thrived on standing out in a crowd. People also seem to think Miss Bennett was being charitable by calling Elizabeth Beckwith her friend.”

“Charitable?”

“There were rumors that Elizabeth Beckwith was not exactly marriage material…in fact the complete antithesis of your future Countess.” Jacob looked over at Alex. “It’s probably nothing.” He looked past Alex at an older woman walking their way. “Heads up…you’re about to be inundated with questions.”

Alex followed Jacob’s line of sight and inwardly groaned. Giving a glance back to where he had last seen Sophie he realized he had once again lost sight of her. Turning back, he plastered a smile on his face. “Mother…you look stunning tonight.”

Meredith Montgomery waived her hand to dismiss the comment. “I saw you dancing with the Bennett girl again. Does that mean an offer is pending?”

Alex grabbed a flute of champagne from the tray of a passing servant. “It means I enjoy dancing with her.”

“Alexander, you have a duty to your title. My only consolation is that you have always taken after my side of the family and not your fathers’. You’re practical and responsible. I know you’ll do what you have to, I just wish you wouldn’t take so long. Getting this matter settled quickly should be the plan.”

Alex studied the strained lines that punctuated the graceful structure of his mothers face. The last year hadn’t been easy on her. Too many deaths. Too many hushed comments. His father’s death a couple months ago had only capped off what had already been a trying year. “Mother, you’re discussing this as if you were discussing breeding the next champion at St. Ledger.”

“An apt comparison, the Bennett Stables are well know and have only exceeded in value over the last couple years. It’s a good match.”

Jacob finished his champagne to avoid laughing at the look on Alex’s face.

“Mother, it’s not as if the Lockwood estates are in dire need of land or capital. In case you hadn’t noticed we’re in quite good shape. Why are you so anxious to marry me off.” Alex finished the champagne in one swallow. He desperately wished there was something stronger within reach.

“Alexander. Your brother saw fit to die without an heir. You are the only remaining Lockwood.” She glanced around the room. “I would like to meet your future Countess.”

“I’m sure you’ll cross paths with her eventually.” Alex scanned the room for his quarry. Not seeing her, he turned to his mother, realizing she had actually given him an excuse to extract himself from the conversation. “I think I’ll see if I can locate her.” He knew for a fact that he wasn’t going to be able to locate her until she reappeared in the ballroom. He hadn’t been able to any other night when she had disappeared. Meanwhile, he’d seek out some acquaintances and see what he could find out about Elizabeth Beckwith.

It didn’t take him long to find an old friend of his father’s, one that happened to have a fascination for the seedy world of death and murder. And it only took a few minutes of pointed questions for the conversation to turn to a certain heiress that had been found dead two months ago.

“She was a wild one. No one talked about it of course. A shame. She was a beauty, but troubled.” Chatworth grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing tray and drained half of it in one sip. “I heard from an acquaintance of mine with the Runners that she was found in her room, not wearing a stitch of clothing except a cravat tightened around her neck.” He finished the champagne. “He said without more evidence it was easier to say the poor girl took her own life. Hell, it may have been. Troubled girl. Reminds me of that case a couple years ago…”

It only took Alex another ten minutes and three tales of murder to politely disengage himself from Chatworth. Again, Sophie provided the excuse. His eyes locked onto her the second she walked back into the ballroom. If she followed suit he’d be able to get one more waltz in before she retired for the night.