Katie Rose (21 page)

Jennifer wavered, then gestured toward the door. “If you’ll walk ahead of me, I’ll take you to the bedroom.”

One brow cocked over his eye, and he sank back down onto her uncle’s desk. An odd expression crossed his face, and he locked his eyes with hers. “No.”

Jennifer’s mouth dropped. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” she asked, panic in her voice.

“I want some answers first,” he continued in that deceptively silky voice. Jennifer was only vaguely aware that he was more furious than she’d ever seen him. There was a jaguarlike menace about him, and he eyed her like a dangerous quarry that had been cornered.

“What do you want to know?” Jennifer asked, her voice even tighter. Her hands were sweating and she was afraid she’d drop the gun then and there. It was only by wiping one hand on her dress that she managed to retain her hold on the weapon at all.

“Why have you done this?” he asked conversationally,
though she could tell he was contemplating wringing her neck. “Surely you don’t intend to take further advantage of my mother by demanding a ransom? If that is your plan, forget it. I control her money.”

“Do you really think …?” It was Jennifer’s turn to look astonished as his implication struck her. “I would never do such a thing to your mother!” she sputtered, outraged that he would even suggest it.

“Then I am at a loss. Would you mind explaining why I am locked in your wine cellar, or is this a curious custom of the Appletons to show hospitality?”

She’d rather he were raging, Jennifer decided. That she could understand better than this cold inquisition, which was decidedly more dangerous. The gun shook, and she had to wipe her hand once more. When she lifted it again, she gazed at him with a mixture of desperation and pleading.

“I can’t answer any of that now. This gun is getting very heavy. Please just go upstairs. If you don’t, I’ll have to lock you in here again, and I don’t want to do that. I think you’ll be much more comfortable in a bed.”

He seemed to weigh that answer carefully, although she didn’t know his conclusion. However, some of the rage seemed to leave him, for she saw his expression lose some of its tightness. The thought of a bed must have enticed him after his stay in the wine cellar, for he nodded, then stepped closer to the door.

“Please, one step at a time. Don’t make me shoot. I really don’t want to hurt you.”

He proceeded ahead of her, then stopped. Jennifer panicked, thinking he was about to flee. Instead, he stooped and picked up the lantern, then turned to her with a curiously amused expression.

“I take it you can’t carry the lamp and train the gun on me at the same time? If so, it makes sense for me to carry it.”

He was mocking her. Heat came to her face, but Jennifer refused to react. The condescension in his voice didn’t deceive her for a moment. He was angrier than hell, but smart enough to use any device to gain an advantage.

“Just keep moving,” Jennifer said, gesturing with the gun. “Now, please.”

He proceeded up the stairs, following her directions as he reached the hall. He passed her sisters, who blocked the front door, armed with brooms and a mop. Even the kitten stood with them, snarling as if on their side. Gabriel’s brow lifted in a mocking arch, and he went around to the back of the house with Jennifer, then down the winding corridor before reaching the bedroom.

“Stop here,” Jennifer ordered, fumbling for the key in the pocket of her dress. They were outside the doorway of the servant’s room, in a sparsely furnished hallway.

“Certainly,” Gabriel answered politely. “By the way, were your sisters going to clean me to death, or defend the moat at all costs?”

Jennifer ignored his baiting, gesturing to the room. “Inside, please.”

He stood outside the door, once more taking her measure. Jennifer trembled as his eyes raked down her, then shifted to study the hallway, and the solid oak door. He pushed the portal open and glanced inside the room. It was furnished with a bed, a dresser, and a washstand. He looked back at Jennifer.

“You first.”

Jennifer gaped, then pointed the gun directly at his chest. He was less than five feet away, and the pistol seemed to dance all around the circumference of his immaculate shirt.

“The room is for you, not me!” she squeaked.

“Ah, but you see, I cannot accept your kind invitation to spend the night without really understanding your
motive.” He leaned against the wall, placing the lantern at his feet. “Miss Appleton, let me explain the way I see things. I came here at your invitation, to ‘bury the hatchet,’ as they say. I am treated to a wonderful dinner, with enjoyable company, and then, after coffee and cigars, am taken captive by my gracious hostess. Now, I can do one of several things. I can continue this idiocy, which no man with half a brain would consider, and walk out the door, or I can hear you out. Now which will it be?”

Jennifer choked. He was so calm, but she knew what an effort he was exerting to remain that way. Although his voice was properly joking, she saw the fury in his eyes. She couldn’t even imagine what he’d do if she released him in his present state.

“Gabriel, I understand that you’re angry, and I’ll be happy to explain everything once you are inside. I don’t want to have to shoot you. Please don’t make me.”

“I wonder if you would.” Gabriel smiled, though the expression never reached his eyes. He took a step closer. “I’ve known you for quite some time now, Miss Appleton, and I think your bark is worse than your bite—”

She meant to cock the gun to scare him. But somehow a bullet sang through the air, striking the plaster and shattering it into a thousand tiny pieces. Jennifer was thrown against the wall by the impact, and Gabriel scrambled out of the way, staring in astonishment at the smoking barrel still aimed at him. He turned his head and saw the fresh bullet hole, less than five inches from where he stood.

“What the hell—You could have killed me!” He stared at her as if she were insane.

“Gabriel, please go inside,” Jennifer pleaded, shaken to her very soul. The realization that she could have hurt him almost made her faint, but she managed to remain standing.

He stepped inside the bedroom, obviously convinced she’d lost her mind. Jennifer pulled the door closed and
locked it immediately. Her heart pounded in her chest as she heard him shouting threats and promises of retribution. Trembling, she sank to the floor and rubbed her sore hand, which still ached from firing the weapon.

Kidnapping wasn’t as easy as it looked, she thought ruefully. As she made her way back down the corridor, she shuddered at the noises coming from his room. Thankfully, they became more and more muffled as she returned to the main part of the house, and disappeared altogether when she reached the parlor. There, she saw Winifred and Penelope, practically bursting with questions, and behind them, Aunt Eve. The elderly woman stepped forth in confusion and the girls parted, both of them gesturing wildly behind the aunt’s back.

“What is going on here, miss?” Eve demanded, sniffling into her handkerchief. “A body can’t get any sleep, even after drinking my nighttime tea! I thought I heard scufflings, even a gunshot! Why, the only gun in the house is your uncle’s Colt, and I keep it right in this drawer …”

The girls panicked as Aunt Eve started for the drawer. Jennifer stepped in front of it, the hot gun gripped in her hands behind her, while Penelope turned her aunt toward a chair.

“You must have been dreaming, Auntie!” Jennifer said quickly. “Gunshots! Why, do any of us look like we’ve been shot?”

Aunt Eve glanced from one girl to the next, then visibly relaxed. “No, you all look perfectly healthy. I must be losing my mind in my old age. What on earth then could I have heard?”

“I am sorry,” Jennifer said. “I guess our theatricals didn’t go so well tonight. We were trying to do … MacBeth’s ghost scene, and it got a little out of hand.”

“Ah. Shakespeare.” Eve shook her head as if displeased. “No wonder, then. You really should focus on nicer material, you know, something more suitable for young girls.
Shakespeare is so tragic, you know. But I could have sworn the noises I heard came from the cellar …”

“That must have been the ice boy,” Penelope said quickly. “He’s getting so careless these days! I had to scold him more than once for slamming the cellar door. He’s promised to be more careful.”

Eve nodded, her white brows lifting. “That’s quite right, my dear. You must set a good example for these young lads, otherwise they grow into street urchins. Now, if you girls don’t mind, I will go back to bed. My cold has me positively exhausted.”

“Would you like more of your tea?” Penelope asked helpfully.

Eve smiled. “Why yes, how nice of you. If you could bring it up to me, child, that would be wonderful. I sleep so well after.” She patted Penelope’s head, then disappeared up the stairs.

“That was close.” Jennifer wiped her brow in relief. “We’re going to have a tough time hiding Gabriel from her, if she should wake up again. He’s so furious, it would be like letting a tiger loose if we were to free him right now.”

“All the more reason to let him cool off tonight,” Winifred said calmly. She looked at her sister appraisingly. “You didn’t have to shoot him, did you?”

“No!” Jennifer said, aghast at the thought. “I only wanted to scare him. He wasn’t taking me at all seriously. I didn’t do too much damage. Just a little broken plaster.”

“That’s good. Penelope and I nearly fainted when we heard the shot. That’s probably what woke Eve. We’ll just have to take special care that Auntie doesn’t see him, or hear him again. The sooner Gabriel accepts the situation, the better.”

Jennifer nodded in agreement, though part of her wondered if Gabriel would ever accept the situation. If their
positions were reversed, she knew she wouldn’t. But there was little she could do about it now. Gabriel was their prisoner, and whatever the price, she knew she’d be the one to pay it.

Following Winifred upstairs, Jennifer put on her nightdress. No sooner had she pulled it over her head when the banging started once more. Penelope sprang out of bed, and even Winifred looked worried.

“It sounds louder now,” Penelope whispered.

“Probably because the house and street are so quiet,” Jennifer said. “I’ll go see to him. We don’t need Auntie waking up.”

Penelope nodded, and Jennifer slipped on her robe. Her bare feet curled against the cold floor, but there wasn’t time to look for her slippers. The banging stopped for a brief moment, but started up again before she could take a breath. Quickly, she lit a candle, then stepped lightly downstairs for the gun, praying her aunt wouldn’t awaken.

The corridor was even more eerie in the dead of night. Jennifer swallowed convulsively when she heard Gabriel’s growls. He quieted when she reached the doorway. Jennifer knocked lightly.

“It’s me. Jennifer. What’s wrong?”

Silence followed, deadly and still. Jennifer waited, her hands shaking, the candle guttering as she tried to still the flame. Good Lord, what if something was really wrong? What if he was ill, or had hurt himself in his rage? Slipping the key into the lock, Jennifer heard the bolt slide open, then she put the key in her pocket and picked up the candle. Cautiously, she opened the door an inch at a time, holding the gun before her for protection.

He was there, sitting on the bed. Jennifer put the candle on the floor. When she straightened, she barely had time to gasp as he lunged toward her. The gun dropped to the floor as he slammed into her, throwing her up against
the door behind her. The bolt clicked shut, and she realized belatedly that she had locked herself in the room with him. Horror filled her as she saw him grin with satisfaction. She was pinned between him and the door, the gun glinting a good three feet away from her. She was trapped.

“Let me go!” Jennifer squirmed as Gabriel braced his hands on either side of her, effectively cutting off any remaining hope of escape.

“Not on your life,” he said coldly, obviously pleased with this reversal. “Now, Miss Appleton, since you find yourself in the same prison as myself, let’s see how you like it. Before I even consider letting you up, I want to know what’s really going on here. Why have you been following me the last few weeks, and why am I here?”

There was no way out. Jennifer swallowed hard, aware of the vulnerability of her position. Gabriel was pressed up against every inch of her. The thin eyelet covering over her nightgown provided little protection against him, and the batiste gown itself, even less. From the expression on his face, she realized he was just beginning to become aware of how little she wore and, worse yet, how much was exposed. If only she could trick him, get away from him long enough to get the gun.…

“I’ll tell you everything,” Jennifer said, gasping between words. “But could you please let me go? I can’t talk like this.”

“That’s too bad, because you’re going to have to. I’m
not that stupid, Jennifer. I know what you’re thinking.” To prove it, he kicked the gun, and it slid beneath the bed. “Now start talking.”

She had no choice. Jennifer knew when she was out of cards, and this time, she was down and out. “It all started when Allison came to visit,” she squeaked, feeling his hands slide down to grasp her waist. Her breasts were pressed fully against his shirt, and she could tell by his expression that he was aware of it, as well. “She said she just wanted to meet with us, but then she asked me for a reading and Winifred got suspicious—”