Dangerous to Kiss (49 page)

“I know,” said Lawford and laughed again.

An hour later, Gray was in Kendal House, wandering from room to room with a glass of brandy in his hand. The house looked as empty as he felt. There was nothing of Deborah here now. Nick had kept him abreast of things. It seemed that she and her brother now had charge of their younger sister, and the girls would go to Stephen once he had found a suitable house. In the interval, Deborah and Elizabeth were his mother’s guests at Sommerfield. No doubt they were all having a wonderful time without him. He knew what would happen if he dared show his face. Deborah would take her sister and flee as if he had brought the plague down with him. And really, there was no need for it. He was as resolved as she to sever their connection.

He thought he had entered his own bedchamber, but when he looked around, he recognized it as Deborah’s. It hardly mattered since she would not be returning. Now he
was
wallowing in self-pity. Laughing mirthlessly, he took a long swallow from his glass.

When he set his glass down on the table by the bed,
he noticed a scrap of lace, one of Deborah’s dainty handkerchiefs. He picked it up, put it to his nose and inhaled the flowery scent. Another memory rushed into his head—Deborah fishing in her pocket for a handkerchief, and blowing her nose into it whenever she was overtaken by a crisis. That’s where all his troubles had started. She’d been so damn brave yet so vulnerable, he just couldn’t resist her.

By this time, he was feeling very mellow, and he stretched out on top of Deborah’s bed. His most endearing memories of Deborah, he decided, were when she had turned to him with that special look in her eyes, the one that betrayed how glad she was that he was there to shoulder all her burdens. It was too bad it couldn’t last. It wasn’t just him. It was all men. She feared their power, and he did not think she would ever get over it.

He must have dozed, because he wakened with a start, knowing that there was someone moving about in his library on the floor below. It might have been one of the servants, but he couldn’t help hoping. He didn’t run, but he moved quickly. When he entered the library, however, it wasn’t Deborah who turned to face him, but his new secretary, Mr. Riddley. Lord Lawford had recommended him. He was in his late thirties, married, and with a young family to support. There would be no question of him practically living at Kendal House. As soon as Mr. Riddley found accommodation, his family would be joining him from Oxford.

“How is the house-hunting going?” asked Gray.

Mr. Riddley made a face. “I didn’t know that lodgings in London were so expensive. Mary says we shall just have to economize in other areas.”

“Mary?”

“My wife.”

“Of course. You know, Mr. Riddley, I don’t expect you to work so late into the night.” Gray smiled to show that there was no censure in his words. “You have your own life to lead. I understand that.”

“Thank you, sir, but without Mary and the children, I’m at a loss. I don’t mind, really. I say, now that you are here, perhaps you wouldn’t mind taking a look at this.
The housekeeper gave it to me, and I think it might be important.”

Gray took the sheet of vellum from his secretary’s fingers and quickly scanned it. It was Deborah’s last will and testament. He read it several times, read between the lines, and all his agonized soul-searching, all his uncertainties drained out of him.

“I see it
is
important, sir.”

“What?” Gray looked up and gazed unseeingly at his secretary for a long time. Finally, he said, “No, not really. It’s a spur, if you like, but I would have come round to it myself sooner or later.”

“Sir?” said Mr. Riddley, mystified.

A slow smile spread across Gray’s face. “Do you know, Mr. Riddley, I think I may be in a position to help you?”

“Sir?”

“It just so happens that I have a little house in Hans Town that has been lying empty for quite some time. It’s begging for new tenants, no really, and I should be grateful if you would take it off my hands, for a nominal sum, of course.”

The report that Gray’s notorious house in Hans Town was soon to be occupied spread throughout society circles like a raging forest fire. At White’s, the betting book did a brisk trade as members wagered which opera dancer or high flyer had caught the earl’s fancy. Lord Lawford’s bet was the last to be entered before the book was closed. “No, to all of the above,” was his wager, and though it was slightly irregular, the members who had charge of the book decided to let it stand. Irregular bets at White’s were so common they were almost regular.

At Sommerfield, the report reached Deborah when her brother came down to advise her that suitable houses in London were hard to come by, and he was still looking for a place. He mentioned the house in Hans
Town for only one reason, so he said, and that was to convince her, supposing she needed to be convinced, that she was well rid of Kendal.

Deborah agreed with him wholeheartedly, fished in her pocket for her handkerchief, and blew her nose.

Gray’s carriage was on the approach to Sommerfield when he was held up by highwaymen. He heard their strident demands just as the lamp outside the coach popped, throwing everything into darkness, and he reached automatically for the pistol that was kept primed and ready in the holster by the banquette. As the door was thrown open, he cocked the pistol and fired. There was only a click as the hammer came down on an empty chamber.

He launched himself at his assailant even as it went through his mind that someone’s head would roll for that empty pistol. His momentum carried him and his opponent through the door and onto the hard-packed road. His arm went back to deliver a stunning punch, but before he could act on it, rough hands were laid on him and he was hauled to his feet. He wasn’t finished yet, but he heard a voice he thought he recognized,
her
voice, and before he had recovered his senses, they had trussed him like a chicken.

“I demand to know—” he began, and someone laughed before shoving a gag in his mouth.

Gray was seething. This didn’t have the feel of a real robbery, but of a prank that young bucks might get up to just for the hell of it. If that were the case, when they
finally released him, he would not be satisfied until he had tracked them down and horsewhipped the lot of them.

His dignity suffered another blow when he was thrown over a horse and tied down like a sack of potatoes. They broke into a trot and then a canter. He heard their voices, but they were muffled. All the same, he sensed their jubilation. It was a long, long time before they stopped. By this time, his head was throbbing and his arms and legs were numb. They cut the bonds on his hands and ankles, and thrust a pistol in his ribs to dissuade him from trying anything foolhardy. He was in no condition to try anything.

The house was small, more like a cottage, and looked vaguely familiar, but he wasn’t given time to examine anything. He was hustled upstairs into one of the bedrooms, and his hands were tied behind his back to one of the bedposts. His three attackers were masked, and there was not enough light from the lone candle to make out any distinguishing features. One said something in an undertone to the others and they all left the room laughing.

Outside the door, he heard voices conferring, but it was a long time before the door opened and someone slipped into the room. At sight of her, Gray began to struggle in earnest, straining at his bonds, moving his head and working his jaw till he had dislodged the gag. “What the hell is going on here?” he yelled.

Deborah cowered, then quickly recovered herself. It was essential that she show him it was not a little mouse he had to deal with but a woman confident of her own power. She was a match for him and he must be made to see it. She stood as straight as an arrow. “I have abducted you,” she said.

“Abducted me? You? Don’t be ridiculous, Deb. Abductions are not your style. You haven’t the stomach for it.”

She took this to be an insult, and lost her temper in earnest. “Oh, I’m learning. Two can play at your game. Look around you, Lord Kendal. You are completely at my mercy.”

He laughed. He actually laughed.
“Ruthless!”
he said, and shook his head. “What is this place?”

“I believe,” she said coldly, “it belongs to one of your former tenants.”

“I thought I recognized it. This is Tom Baldwin’s place?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

He looked at her intently, then said, “You wrote that letter purporting to come from my mother?”

“I did.”

“There is no emergency. The ceiling in the Great Hall did not collapse? There was not the least necessity for me to post down to Sommerfield?”

“No. No. And no,” she said.

“Was my mother party to this?”

“Certainly not! As though the countess would lend her aid to something disreputable! As though I would ask her! I forged that letter to bring you down here.”

He suddenly bellowed, “Don’t you realize that someone might have been hurt tonight?”

When the ringing in her ears had subsided, she said calmly, “I am not such a fool. I told them to be gentle with you.”

“You were there?”

She answered him proudly. “Of course I was there. I was directing things.”

His teeth ground together. “Let me see if I can guess who your accomplices are. Hart? Nick? And the third one would have to be your brother.”

“You’re very quick,” she said admiringly.

He bit out, “As they will discover when I get out of here. Now, would you mind telling me what this is all about?”

Now that it was time to explain her purpose, she saw that she had allowed things to get out of hand. He was supposed to be gagged and immobilized, and she was supposed to be contrite. All this glaring on both their parts was putting her off her stride.

It wasn’t going to work. He was too angry. She was too craven. She had been a fool to think she could force him to listen to her. He could be as stubborn as a mule
when he liked. The door beckoned and her resolve wavered, but only for a moment. She had come too far to draw back now.

“Gray,” she said, as humbly as she could manage, “I went to Belvidere. Two weeks ago, my brother and I went to Belvidere.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Yes, but what you can’t possibly be aware of is the effect it had on me. That house and my father are inextricably woven together in my mind. Oh, it’s so much more than that. I was looking for answers, Gray, and I found them.”

“How fascinating,” he said in a bored drawl.

She said desperately, “I realized then that you are nothing like my father, not even superficially. Deep down, I always knew it.” Her look pleaded for understanding.

His expression was inscrutable. He said nothing.

She elaborated. “Belvidere and Sommerfield? There’s no comparison.”

“I see. Is that all you wish to say to me?”

She heard the indifference in his voice and winced. Pretending she
hadn’t
heard the indifference in his voice, she went on quickly. “When we were at Belvidere, we met our sister, Elizabeth. We liked her, we liked her very much, but we didn’t like her mother or her guardian, so we decided to do something about it.”

“Is this relevant?”

There was only so much a girl could tolerate. “Will you hold your tongue and let me get on with my story? This isn’t easy for me, you know.”

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he was biting down on a smile, and she was incensed. “Pray continue,” he said, not mocking her, not taunting her, and her annoyance abated.

Composing herself into the proper frame of mind, she started over. “As I said, we liked Elizabeth, but we were afraid that her life was going to be no easier than ours. So we persuaded her mother and guardian to let her come to us.”

“And was Elizabeth agreeable?”

“Oh Gray!” She blinked rapidly to dispel the burning sensation in her eyes. “If you had only seen the look on her face when she realized that we weren’t going to take no for an answer, and that we would give anything, do anything, to bring her to us. It would break your heart.”

He spoke very quietly. “Go on, Deb. Tell me how you managed it.”

She sniffed and breathed deeply. “First we offered them our share of Father’s collections, and when that didn’t work, we threw in fifty thousand pounds in hard cash.”

His brows shot up. “You surrendered your father’s collections, then topped your offer with fifty thousand pounds? And Leathe permitted it?”

“Actually, no. I persuaded Leathe to try it my way first. But it didn’t work. They refused every offer.”

“Then what happened?”

“Leathe said we must take a leaf out of your book.” Her eyes were dancing. “It was horrible. Threats. Intimidation. You know the sort of thing I mean. They wavered, and I threw in my trump card.”

“I don’t know if I can bear to hear this. What was your trump?”

She sounded proud of herself. “I told them if they didn’t settle at once, I would call
you
into the affair. Gray, it worked like a charm.”

“You did well. Now, would you mind telling me what point you are trying to make?”