Katie Rose (20 page)

“I can’t imagine that,” he admitted, observing how utterly charming she looked at that moment. “Were you really that poor?”

“After my parents died, yes. My father unwittingly left us in debt. We tried traditional ways to make money, like becoming companions and governesses, but that only led us further into poverty. It wasn’t until the … séances, that we were able to pull ourselves out of the rut.”

Gabriel felt an oddly protective instinct as he envisioned Jennifer, small and proud, clutching the torn coat and pretending not to hear the laughter behind her. It was this remarkable woman who’d held the family together, he realized in amazement. Responsibility that he couldn’t even imagine had been placed on her shoulders at a time when perfumes and gowns should have been her concern. Yet she’d handled it with grace and aplomb. Whatever her faults, he suddenly appreciated, Jennifer had courage and strength.

“You know, pretty much the same thing happened with my father,” Gabriel commented. “He was a real gentleman, the kind who wouldn’t dare ask an acquaintance for payment. He nearly ran the business into the ground. By the time I took over, we were almost penniless.”

“He must have been so proud, that you were able to right things,” Jennifer said softly.

A pained look came into Gabriel’s eyes, and he
shrugged. “Actually, I don’t think he ever forgave me. He died a short while after, and several people conjectured that it was from disappointment. In me.”

“That’s terrible!” Jennifer said, pouring him more wine. “How could that be? You were only doing what you had to.”

“He didn’t see it that way. Debts of honor were just that to him, honorable. It never occurred to him that some people wouldn’t pay unless coerced.” Gabriel’s lip curled at the thought, but he glanced at Jennifer and forced a smile. “Maybe now you understand why I’m so protective of my mother’s money. In many ways, she’s just like him.”

Jennifer smiled sadly. “I know. She really is wonderful. And she’s so happy with her fiancé. Gabriel, I’m so glad you’ve decided to accept him.”

“How do you know that?” It was his turn to look surprised.

“She told me that you and Robert spoke the day she had me to tea, and seemed to have worked out your differences. It meant the world to her that you made the effort.”

Gabriel nodded. He raised his eyes slowly to hers. “Jennifer, I have to admit something. Your presence in my mother’s life has brightened it considerably. Initially, I wasn’t convinced that your motives were honorable, but I’ve come to realize that however it started, she has benefited from your friendship. I want to thank you for that.”

Jennifer knew how hard it was for him to admit this to her. She lightly pressed her hand to his in a gesture that was almost a handclasp. “Let me see to dessert.” She rose, disappearing into the corridor that led to the kitchen.

Gabriel’s hand burned from her touch. For a moment, he almost dared hope she meant something other than the obvious, then he scolded himself silently once more for being a cad. She was funny and intelligent, perverse and witty. She was unlike any other woman he’d ever met, twice as desirable, and twice as infuriating.

Jennifer was drawing him into her web, and like a fly, he was helpless to do anything about it.

“How is it going?” Penelope whispered as soon as Jennifer appeared in the kitchen.

“Wonderful,” Jennifer said dreamily. “He is finally talking to me as if we were friends. He is so handsome, kind, intelligent, and sweet. I know he cares for me, I just know it!”

“Don’t become so enraptured that you cry off our plan,” Winifred reminded her. “Remember, you’re to ask him to help you fetch the brandy from the basement. As soon as he enters the wine cellar, turn the key on him.”

Jennifer nodded, and Penelope gave her a brave smile. Kidnapping Gabriel was going to take all the courage she possessed. Picking up the coffeepot, she headed toward the parlor.

Jennifer returned a few moments later with coffee and the pie. Gabriel had stretched out on the parlor couch, wondering what was keeping the girl. He had to admit he felt relieved when she reentered the room, for the séance trappings left him curiously uneasy. The parrot squawked, rustling in his cage, and the fire threw ominous shadows across the floor. Even the kitten seemed feral, and eyed him with that odd wisdom that cats always appeared to possess.

“I’m sorry, but the coffee wouldn’t brew. It took me a little longer than I’d anticipated.”

“Of course,” Gabriel said, withdrawing a cheroot from his jacket. “That was an excellent meal, Jennifer. Thank you. Do you mind if I smoke?”

“No, not at all,” Jennifer said, pouring him a cup of the pungent brew. “Would you like some brandy with that?”

“No, thank you.” Gabriel accepted the cup, not wanting to let go when their fingers touched. He sipped the liquid, feeling the burn of the aromatic brew as it stung his lips. Putting aside the cup, he puffed on the cigar, reclining against the sofa. The kitten jumped into his lap, and he idly stroked its soft head. In spite of his air of contentment, Gabriel’s uneasiness persisted. Something was different now, something in the way Jennifer watched him. She turned away quickly when his eyes met hers and Gabriel frowned, his senses alerted.

“Gabriel, would you mind going to the cellar for the brandy? I think we should have some. This occasion calls for something special.”

“The coffee is fine,” Gabriel said, still watching her carefully.

“I really would like to share a toast with you,” Jennifer’s tone was imploring. “Would you please come with me? I get frightened in the dark.”

He couldn’t resist, not when she asked like that. Gabriel nodded, putting aside the cigar. The kitten leaped to the floor and he took the lamp Jennifer proffered. After all, he was a grown man. What threat could a dark cellar impose?

The stairs were shrouded in black, and the guttering light of the lamp barely illuminated the step before him. Gabriel grumbled to himself, wishing now he had refused. Someone had to take Jennifer in hand, to keep her from her impulsive actions, he thought in irritation. Next time, he would be more firm.

The basement smelled dank and musty, and he now knew the source of the cobwebs in the chandelier. Something scurried along one wall, as if indignant that he invaded its territory. The air was cooler, and he was grateful when he reached the last step.

“The wines are in the room to the left,” Jennifer called from behind him. “You have to open the door.”

He complied, stepping into a room that, while cool, was at least clean and well kept. Wines lined the wall, neatly stacked inside a brick alcove. The elusive brandies were below them, and a chair and desk stood against the wall.

“This is an impressive collection,” Gabriel mused, blowing the dust from a bottle and reading the label. “Surely you didn’t buy this from your investments?”

Jennifer shook her head. “My uncle was a collector. He spent a lot of time down here, labeling bottles and recording when to drink them. Those are his notes.” She gestured nervously to the books on the table.

The darkness apparently did frighten her, for Jennifer wasn’t acting at all like herself. Thinking to spare her, he bent down to retrieve the brandy. At the same moment, he heard her scurry away, and the door behind him slammed with an ominous thud. A sickening suspicion came to him as he turned quickly, just in time to hear the bolt slide shut with a solid clink. Dropping the bottle, he sprang toward the door.

“Jennifer! I demand that you open the door this instant!” He pounded furiously, but could hear no response. Outrage swept through him as he realized the truth. Jennifer Appleton had tricked him as easily as a mouse walking straight into a trap for a piece of cheese. He had been kidnapped.

“I want to thank you for the reading.” Mrs. Weatherwill buttoned up her cloak and fumbled in her purse for several large bills. “It was wonderful, dear! Fascinating. Why, I could have sworn my dear departed husband was with us the entire time! I swear I can still hear him, pounding and shouting!”

Penelope choked, while Jennifer accepted the payment. Thanking the woman profusely, she closed the door, leaning against it in exhaustion. Once more, the banging started in the cellar.

“We can’t keep him locked up all night,” Jennifer said, as soon as their client left. “It’s too cold and damp down there in the cellar. He’ll catch his death!”

“At least he stopped that banging for a little while,” Penelope said between giggles. “I swear Mrs. Weatherwill thought her old husband’s ghost was locked below!”

“Gabriel is a grown man,” Winifred said quietly, clearing the séance materials from the room. “It is highly unlikely that he’ll become ill or experience anything other than discomfort. However, we can put him in a warmer place to sleep. There is a bedroom in the back wing we can
use, with a door that locks. I think it was once a servant’s room.”

“He’ll leave if we open the door!” Penelope insisted, as if such a thought hadn’t occurred to anyone else.

“Not if we give him an incentive to stay.” Winifred glanced toward Jennifer, who covered her mouth with her hands in mirth.

“Not Uncle’s gun?”

“The very same.” Winifred put the crystal ball aside and opened a desk drawer. Reverently, she lifted the pistol that had already seen one war, and handed the implement to her sister.

“Don’t you think we’re taking this too far?” Penelope asked, staring in horror at the weapon.

“We haven’t any choice,” Winifred explained calmly. “We’ve come this far. We have to see it through.”

“I don’t have the faintest idea how to shoot,” Jennifer said, balancing the heavy gun in her hand. “Is it loaded?”

“I doubt it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know how to use it. He doesn’t know that.”

Jennifer nodded, testing the Colt revolver in her grip. She practiced holding it securely, then aimed it as if she were about to shoot. Glancing into the mirror, she saw that she looked fearsome indeed.

“We just have to make sure Auntie doesn’t wake up,” Penelope said, shuddering at the thought. “She’s been dousing herself with her special ‘tea’ for her cold, which is more than half brandy, so that should help.”

“Yes, it would be difficult to explain Gabriel as a houseguest,” Jennifer admitted. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath, then accepted the lantern her sister handed her. “I’m ready.”

“Do you want us to follow you?” Penelope asked, although she didn’t look eager to do any such thing.

Jennifer shook her head. “No, it will be better if I try
to explain things myself. If all of us gang up on him, we’ll get nowhere.” She braced herself, dreading the confrontation that was about to happen.

“He will be furious,” Winifred said, echoing her own thoughts. “Be careful.”

Penelope nodded her support, while Jennifer descended the stairs to the dim cellar. It was quiet, too quiet, she thought. A pang of guilt assaulted her as she imagined what he was thinking, then she firmly shook it off. If Gabriel was plotting their downfall with Allison, she couldn’t allow herself to be weak. She had to do what she’d always done: take charge, and ensure their survival.

She screamed when the banging started again suddenly, then she exhaled in relief as she realized Gabriel was still securely locked away. He must be able to see the light beneath the door and hear her footsteps. Shivering from the invectives he spewed, Jennifer put the lantern down and spoke loudly.

“Gabriel, it’s me. Jennifer.”

The growl inside sounded savage and she almost lost her nerve. “Let me out of here! Goddammit, Jennifer, this had gone far enough! Wait until I get my hands on you, you conniving, little—”

“Gabriel, be quiet or I won’t open the door.” Jennifer had to shout to be heard.

Spending an hour in the dank cellar obviously had had an effect on him, for Gabriel finally did fall silent after a few more minutes of frustrated pounding.

He was even more furious than she’d expected. Jennifer swallowed hard, realizing the precarious position she was in. Refusing to give in to her terror, she forced her voice to sound calm.

“Gabriel, I will open the door, and I will let you go upstairs to a bedroom where you will be comfortable. However, I have a gun, and I will use it if necessary. Do you understand me?”

The silence that followed was more ominous. Jennifer could almost see him thinking, and weighing his alternatives. His voice was deceptively placid when he answered, though Jennifer wasn’t fooled.

“There is no need for the gun. I will do as you suggest.”

The moment she’d been dreading was upon her. Jennifer slid open the bolt, braced for a tigerlike spring from the man inside the room. Her hands shook as she held the revolver, which was pointed directly at Gabriel. Even in the dim lamplight, he could see the weapon clearly.

“I know what you’re thinking, and I can only warn you that I am very nervous. This is my first kidnapping, you know. Please don’t do anything rash, for I might shoot you unintentionally.”

Gabriel nodded, his gaze focused on the way her hands trembled. She could scarcely hold the weapon, she was shaking so badly.