His Secret Heroine (21 page)

Just below the level of the balcony, a string course cut its horizontal line at the first and second floor level, wide enough for a toe, but not a whole foot. Heavy vines clung to the tone walls all the way to the ancient structure's roof. Would they be strong enough if the string course carried most of his weight?

Exhaling a tense breath, Reggie pictured his Circe at the helm. She would never give up in the face of danger. Nor would his Chloe, his real heroine. Nor would he.

He climbed over the thick stone rail and held onto it while he lowered one foot to probe for the string course beneath its overlay of ivy. He found a foothold. He hoped. Facing the wall, he gripped the rail, then vines, and worked the other foot through the greenery. One hand, one foot, other hand, other foot, he progressed over the face of the wall, feeling tendrils ripping free with each grasp that bore his weight. The heavier vines held better, but they massed too thickly, obscuring the string course. With a rip, one handful of vines pulled free. Reggie lunged and grabbed another, his body dangling free, swinging. Vines gaped away from the wall, ripping like fabric.

He plunged downward, banging against the
stone. With a shove against the wall, he leapt and grabbed a thick vine with the other hand. It held.

He groped with his toe, seeking a crevice, and found only a meager branching in the vines that barely held the toe of his boot. Gritting his teeth, he looked down at paving blocks that seemed to have grown harder since he left the safety of the balcony. Nothing for it but to go on. Gingerly he lowered his weight into the tight space and climbed.

The vine tore free. Reggie fell back, but his foot was wedged. He hung suspended by his hands from the tough vines and climbed back up to the string course and safe footing. His heartbeat drummed in his ears as his feet groped around and found a toehold. A few feet higher, and he could reach the opposite rail. But the only vines available looked treacherously weak.

Well, he couldn't stay here.

Reggie groped about, yanking and pulling until he found one that didn't yield to the mild pressure he put on it, but he already knew it wouldn't hold him long. With a deep breath, he threw left hand past right and lunged for the precarious vine. The sickening ripping sound echoed in his ears as he leapt once more, scrambling for toeholds, hanging for dear life from one puny vine after another.

He hurled himself at the balcony rail and scrambled to safety. He leaned against the wall, breathing hard. Chloe's door would be the first one he reached. Was he still in time?

And what the devil was he going to do with her when he got there? He could hardly expect her to cross back to the safety of Portia's chamber. He'd have to think of something.

Reggie jostled the door handle. It moved beneath his hand and the door squeaked open.

"Chloe, wake up."

The bed rustled and squeaked as she gasped and sat up, clutching her blankets.

"It's me, Chloe. Reggie. Don't be afraid."

"What are you doing here? You can't come into my room!"

"I'm already in. Get your wrapper, Chloe. You've got to get out of here."

"Have you lost your wits? I shall not leave my chamber in the middle of the night." She swung her feet over the side of the bed and pulled the blanket with her, wrapping it around her.

"You have to. Hurry. You're in danger. Get your wrapper and come out on the balcony."

"Reggie this is absurd. If you think you can get back into my good graces by claiming I am threatened, you are wrong."

Reggie grabbed Chloe by the hand and tugged. "I am perfectly serious. Vilheurs means to break into your chamber and be caught here, and he has arranged to give the appearance that you invited him."

Chloe yanked back her hand and stepped back. "It is not enough that you concoct some mad scheme, but you must
vilify the only suitor I have left. I'll thank you to leave before you have utterly destroyed what little is left of my good name."

"Chloe, that is all my fault, and I shall make my apologies to you, but right now it is more a matter of your good name than you can possibly imagine. Portia overheard Vilheurs scheming with Lady
Lavington. Truly."

"Oh, certainly. Your beloved cousin, who will do anything to get you married off to me so she does not find herself stuck with you. I must say, I cannot blame her."

A small ormolu clock chimed the hour. At the far end of the chamber, a faint rattling sounded at the keyhole.

"Devil it," he whispered. "Get outside, quickly."

"I shall not!" she whispered back, and pulled back.

Reggie wrapped his arm about her waist and tugged her toward the door to the balcony, but Chloe planted her hand against the door frame. The door to the corridor squeaked, and she whirled around, eyes wide, as the hunched figure of a man crept into the chamber in the near darkness.

Reggie pulled her out onto the balcony, but the blanket she had wrapped around her caught beneath the door and wedged it, still ajar. Reggie held a hand to her mouth to urge her silence, and pulled on the corner of the blanket, but he had jerked the door too hard, and it was stuck. He'd make too much noise if he tried to dislodge it. The drapery fluttered like a pennant in a light breeze. He grabbed its selvage and held it.

They
peered through the crack in the door as the man removed garments, silently laying them across the chair by the writing desk, as if he were a welcome guest rather than an intruder.

"He's getting into my bed," she whispered.

"Shh. And he means to be discovered there. We have to get you out of here, quickly. Where's your aunt?"

She pointed to the way he had come.

Reggie groaned. He didn't even know how he was going to make it back. The vines were not likely to last through another trip. "Who's on the other side?"

"Lady
Lavington."

And that was where this balcony terminated.

"What the devil?" Vilheurs cursed, from the other side of the mullioned door. "Where are you, damn your eyes?"

Reggie peeked past Chloe, who stared openmouthed as Vilheurs yanked bedcovers off the bed and threw them to the floor. He dashed about the bedchamber, pawing into dark corners, and jerked open the armoire, cursing and shouting.

"Run to the far end, and stay there, against the wall," Reggie whispered.

"Where are you going?"

He pointed over the rail.

"No!"

With the sound of female shrieks, Reggie's heart sank. They were only moments away from discovery.

"Oh, my dear, are you all right?" cried Lady
Lavington in a shrill voice from the corridor. "I am sure you have no notion of what you were doing, but we have come to save you."

"Oh, of course you have," Chloe muttered under her breath. "You would save me right into my grave."

"Shhh," Reggie urged.

As a candle brightened the chamber, Vilheurs jerked open the door to the balcony, revealing Chloe, wrapped in the blanket, with Reggie's arms about her.

"Good God, Villy, what the devil are you about?" Reggie said, staring at the naked man standing before them.

"You!" screamed Vilheurs. He whirled around, baring himself to the crowd who flooded into the chamber. Women screamed and gasped. He grabbed up the wrapper Chloe had left behind and wrapped it around his body, and leveled an accusing finger back at Reggie. "You have done this to me! I am the one she meant to have tonight!"

"Have you!" Chloe cried. "I should not have you if no other man were left alive! Reggie was protecting me from you."

Miss
Hawarth and Lady Mythe rushed in and led Chloe away to the far corner of the chamber. Reggie felt deserted. But the purpose of all this had been to protect her good name, and it did her no good to be discovered in Reggie's arms, whether he rescued her or not.

Lord Mythe pushed his way through the group gathered within the doorway. "Good Heavens! Clothe yourself, Lord Vilheurs. There are ladies present. Lady Creston, I must impose upon you once again to see to the young ladies. This is clearly not a matter for those of tender sensibilities."

Lady Creston, eyebrows raised so high they were in danger of becoming lost in her hairline, cornered the younger ladies and herded them away. Reggie suspected, not beyond earshot.

"Oh, cousin," said Lady
Lavington in a falsely sweet tone, "I fear it is all my fault, for I did not realize when I overheard Miss Englefield accept the invitation from Lord Vilheurs that she meant for him to come to her chamber, even though she has agreed to accept his suit. But then when I saw him enter her door, I realized what was afoot. But I am sure she did not understand what it was all about, for she is an innocent—"

Chloe gasped. "But I didn't!"

"But there is no point in denying it now, you see, since you have agreed to marry him," said Lady Lavington, reaching for Chloe's arm as if she meant to comfort her.

Chloe jerked herself back. "I did no such thing!"

"Look, I have the key she gave me!" said Vilheurs, and reached for the waistcoat he had lain across the chair to pull out a brass key.

This was becoming a bumblebroth. Whatever he did, Reggie couldn't let Vilheurs win. "Miss
Englefield has not left her chamber, and she has not been anywhere without escort, except in my presence, so she could not have made any such promise. Lord Vilheurs schemed to enter her chamber and be caught, so as to force a marriage."

"It's true."

The crowd whirled about as more people entered the chamber, to see Portia standing with her arms folded.

Reggie groaned. He should have known Portia would slip away from Lady Creston. "Portia, stay out of this." A few more words and she would be ruined too.

Portia sneered. "I overheard Lady Lavington and Lord Vilheurs talking in the library tonight. He got the key from her, and she got it out of Miss Englefield's room this afternoon. She told him Miss Englefield was asleep. He instructed her to enter the chamber at ten after the hour of one, bringing other guests, so as to ensure he would be found in a compromising circumstance with Miss Englefield. Naturally, I told my cousin."

Portia might have saved Chloe, but she had sealed her own fate. She just did not realize it.

"That so, Beauhampton?" asked Mythe. "Rather thought you would come to me with something like this, since it is my house."

"There was no time to find you, Mythe." That was true. It just sounded lame. "I had to get here before Vilheurs did. As you can see, finding him in her chamber with her even for a minute would have been disastrous to her good name. And she does not deserve that."

"Which brings up the next question. How did you get in here?"

He grimaced. "The balcony. The vines."

"This is all absurd," Vilheurs screamed. "I am to marry her, not this ridiculous fribble! Do not listen to his cocked up tales! I have her key to prove it!"

"You have a key, but that proves nothing," Reggie said, as he grabbed up Vilhuers's discarded garments and tossed them at the man, who fumbled, trying to catch while keeping his body covered. "And I am fully clothed, whereas, you are not. This is not my house, and I cannot say what you may do, but if I ever see your face again, you shall have grass for breakfast."

Mythe pushed in between the two. "I shall not allow a duel. But even if you were invited by Miss Englefield, Vilheurs, and I do not for a moment believe you were, your behavior is reprehensible. The magistrate here is my good friend, and if you are still within this jurisdiction when the sun rises, I shall have you charged with attempted rape. It might be wise, in fact, for you to leave the country, for you shall never find yourself in any of the drawing rooms of the
ton
again."

Vilheurs worked his jaw and his dark eyes shone with venom as he ran out the door,
tripping over garments that dropped from his arms.

"And you, Letitia," Mythe said to his cousin. "I have tried very hard not to credit what I have heard about you. But, well. I shall see you in my study tomorrow, before you break your fast. And one word of this beyond this room and you shall see yourself cut entirely."

Lady Lavington paled. "You cannot believe—"

"Out," said Mythe, his face explosively red. Letitia, Lady
Lavington scurried out the door.

"Miss
Englefield," said Mythe, "I shall leave you in the care of your aunt for the evening, if you feel you will be safe."

Miss
Hawarth placed an arm about her niece's shoulder. "I shall take her to my chamber, Lord Mythe, as I cannot imagine she would wish to stay here."

"But Mythe, my dear," said Lady Mythe, taking his arm, "we are left with a difficult problem. You must think of Miss
Englefield's reputation. She is the innocent, yet it is she whose reputation will be questioned."

Chloe gave a weak squeak.

"True," said Mythe, and he cleared his throat. "Even though it is utterly obvious to all of us here that she had nothing to do with this attack, her name would be damaged merely by the association. And unfortunately, with Lord Reginald also here, the situation is even more complicated."