The Hopeless Hoyden (6 page)

             
“Ah, but has the lady told you, Miss Taber, that she rides as if she were part of the horse, runs through the woods like a doe, and has the disposition of a mischievous elf."  The Viscount was standing in front of Emily, a warm smile on his handsome countenance.  "May I join you, ladies?"

             
“I was just about to leave," said Jane, rising from her chair.

             
“Nonsense.  I insist you stay while I discuss a problem," Gabriel replied, pulling up an arm chair.  "It is only fair to tell you, Miss Tabor, that Miss Pendleton, delightful creature that she is, needs a keeper." 

             
He said this jokingly with no hint of malicious stricture, and Emily found she could return his smile, not the least bit embarrassed or offended.  Playfully, she responded, "And why, my lord, do you think that?"

             
“Simple deduction, Miss Pendleton.  You are not a creature of our world but of nature.  Your spirit soars like a bird, you have a heart defined by your caring for others, and the twinkle in your eyes reflect your love of life." 

             
“Damme, Gab, if that don't sound poetic," Freddy Fordyce interjected from where he'd come up behind Lindemann.

             
Emily, who had been mesmerized by Gabriel's velvety brown eyes, blushed most becomingly over having an audience hear such fulsome complements.  Jane, on the other hand, was staring past the handsome Viscount at Lord Fordyce's costume.  Resplendent in puce pantaloons, black coat and embroidered waistcoat, Freddy was sporting two black star patches on one plump cheek.  With one pudgy finger, he kept dabbing one patch that was falling off.

             
“Have you no finesse, Freddy?'" growled Gabriel, actually a little embarrassed.  He could never remember getting so carried away while playing the flirtatious games of the
ton
. 

             
Gabriel turned to Miss Taber.  “Perhaps you'll keep an eye on Miss Pendleton, Miss Taber, and protect her from society’s dragons?"

             
Emily's eyes narrowed on Gabriel's smiling countenance.  Now she felt offended as well as miffed by his implication that she didn't know how to go about in society.  Before she could refute the need of a keeper, Jane reached over and patted her arm.  “I would deem it an honor to count Miss Pendleton my friend."

             
“What a good person you are, Miss Taber," said Emily, touched by the other girl's sincerity.

             
“Ain't she, though," seconded Freddy just as Lady Raines called the gentlemen to be seated on the settee so they could hear a duet to be played on the pianoforte by Sylvia and Deborah.
              The evening progressed more agreeably than Emily would have thought. While the two of them were as different as night and day, Emily found she had a friend in Jane Taber.  They chatted and commiserated over London Seasons, Emily's having ended in disgrace and Jane's never materializing because of a lack of funds as well as a sponsor.  They laughed over their individual faults, Emily's total lack of female talents, and Jane's atrocious seat on a horse.

             
When Jane was called to fetch a shawl for Sylvia, Aunt Esmeralda came to sit by Emily. 

             
“I am sorry, my dear, for my earlier lapse.  You understand it was quite a severe shock, seeing you here."

             
“Yes, Aunt Esmeralda."

             
“I harbor no ill feeling toward you, Emily.  Even Lady Addington has forgiven you for destroying her antique porcelain collection.  It was just so... so very unfortunate and all."

             
“Yes, Aunt Esmeralda."

             
“Oh, I am glad we had this little coze to clear the air.  I do feel so much better.  And you, my dear?"

             
“Yes, Aunt Esmeralda,” Emily replied dutifully.

             
Much later, with her knees drawn up to her chin and her bare feet tucked under the hem of her night dress, Emily sat at the window seat in her bedroom, looking out upon the rear gardens of the Park, deep in thought.  A scarce few hours ago she had been dreading the morrow.  But now with the Viscount’s unexpected compliment and Miss Taber’s friendship, a bright new day awaited her. She hadn't forgotten her primary reason for being here, either.              

             
Mentally, she formulated plans to watch over her gallant host.  She imagined various scenes whereby she'd come upon Lindemann's foe in the very act of attempting to do the Viscount some grievous harm and perform a dramatic rescue.  Then, she'd throw herself across his body, taking a bullet--no, the point of a sword.   Or she'd be the one who rushed in with a pistol and fired at the killer, who by chance happened to possess the dark looks of Cecil Caldwell, and disarmed him. 

             
After each successful rescue, Emily envisioned Lindemann taking her in his arms and gratefully raining passionate kisses on her.  The trouble was, she wasn't sure which she'd wanted most--his gratitude or his kisses.

             
These images were suddenly extinguished as quick as a candle's flame when a dark figure breezed across the landscaped garden below her window, headed for the stables.  Without hesitating, Emily grabbed her robe, wrenched her door open, and raced downstairs to the back of the house.  As she let herself out through the library French window, she noted it was unlatched.

             
Once outside, she cautiously edged her way out to the edge of the terrace, her bare feet soundless on the cold flagstones.  Peering about the garden, she thought she detected some movement over by the topiary.  Gathering up her gown and robe with one hand, she ran down the steps and began dodging from one sculptured bush to another, hoping whoever it was wouldn't spot her.  

             
Rounding a hedge shaped like a dancing bear, Emily's progress was suddenly halted.  She'd run into a human wall.

             
“Oh!" she cried out, before a hand clamped over her mouth. 

             
“Emily!  What the deuce are you doing out here?" whispered Gabriel, removing his hand from her mouth to grab her by the elbows.

             
“I saw someone from my bedroom window and thought--"

             
“You thought to get yourself killed, you mean.  Are you mad?  Hen witted?  A pea goose?"

             
“Ohhh, do stop," she hissed, raising one hand to further still the insults.  "You have made your point.  But what was I to do?  I had a chance to catch your killer."

             
“I'm not dead yet, my girl," he commented dryly.

             
“We are dealing in mere semantics if we don't stop the man.  This is the perfect chance to catch him in the act of plotting your demise and--"

             
“I must be mad to listen to you.  It's well past midnight, and if we're found out here together with you in your present state of undress," he added, giving her night attire a more than cursory glance, "there'll be the devil to pay."

             
“Be quiet," she whispered, whirling about to poke her head around the hedge.  "Do you hear that?"

             
Gabriel was incredulous.  Had she no conception of the compromising circumstances they faced?  But then he heard someone racing across the terrace on the back of the house and quickly leaned over her to take a look.

             
A man, short and stocky and in loose fitting clothes, rushed across the terrace, toward the far corner of the house.  The library door was closing, but it was impossible to determine who was the dark form on the other side of the glass.  Within seconds, everything was quiet again.  All except the pounding of his heart.

             
“Did you see him?" asked Emily in hushed tones.

             
“Shhh."  In leaning over to glimpse the running figure, he'd molded his frame to Emily's bent figure, her derriere butted up to his thighs.  His senses were reeling as she wiggled to back away from the bush once the man had disappeared around the corner of the house.  Her fresh lavender scent assaulted his nostrils.  By Jove, with her naiveté, she was going to drive him crazy.  It was with a supreme effort of will that he finally straighten up and backed several paces away from her. 

             
“Well, did you?"  She brushed past him to gain the cover of the hedge again.

             
“Yes, and now it's time for you to get back inside."  Emily was driving him to distraction.  He ought to be chasing after the intruder, but he didn't dare leave her alone.  Assuming she were to follow his instructions and go back to the house, someone could be lying in wait and do her harm.  "Come on."  He grabbed her hand and pulled her down a graveled path toward the house.

             
“Ouch!  Oh please, slow down, my lord."

             
“Emily, where are your shoes?"

             
“I didn't have time to put them on."
              Damn, he even found her feet fascinating as she stood there hopping on one foot while massaging the other with her hand.  The girl possessed bottom, though.

             
Suddenly, Emily found herself swept off her tender feet and in Gabriel's arms.  "Put me down, my lord.  I can walk."

             
“Be quiet, Em.  We're almost there. And quit ‘my lording’ me.  Call me Gabriel.  Or Gab."

             
Once on the stone terrace, Gabriel put her down, then cautiously crept up to the library door.  After peering in, he turned to her.  "No one's in the library.  Come on." 

             
He reached out his hand to turn the knob and swore.  “I don't believe I have heard that one before," remarked Emily rather primly.

             
“Sorry, Em, but we're faced with a bit of a problem." 

             
When he rattled the door, it was clear that they were locked out.

             
“So now what are we to do?" she asked, wrapping her arms about her.  Without his arms about her, Emily discovered it had turned cold.

             
“Try the windows I guess."

             
And they did.  And every last window within reach was shut tight.

             
“We could break a window," Emily suggested at one point.

             
“Ordinarily I would.  But if the servants should come running, how do I explain your presence?  A month wouldn't go by before they have us in front of the vicar."

             
“I could hide in the bushes until it was safe to come out."

             
“I'm not leaving you here by yourself."  His tone was surly, and she decided not to press him any further.

             
They had come full circle.  Emily's feet were freezing, and she clinched her teeth to keep them from chattering.  When Gabriel stepped back to better survey the back of the house, she sank down on the flagstone, wrapping her gown and robe closely about her bare toes. 

             
Gabriel was at her side instantly, shrugging out of his jacket and dropping it around her shoulders.  "Emily, why didn't you say something before now?  I forgot about you not having shoes."

             
“Oh pooh, I figure we have more important matters to worry about," she said, staring at the house.   

             
But he wasn't attending to her.  Following his gaze, she saw the ivy vines clinging to the corner of the house.  No window was immediately next to it.  But she noticed the stone ledge, perhaps six inches wide, that ran the length of the house.  And the first window on the second floor was open.

             
“My lord—er, Gab?"  She didn't have to explain; he knew what she meant. 

             
“I see it."

             
“If I--"

             
“Like bloody hell, Em."

             
“But the ivy will not hold your weight."

             
“No, but the drain pipe the ivy's hiding will.  The vine will only make it easer to hang on." 

             
She saw another problem.  "That ledge is made of limestone."
              “Yes."

             
“It is old and will probably crumble under your weight."

             
He looked at her for a long moment.  "Don't even think about it, Emily."

             
"Now, Gab, don't be pigheaded," she began, then immediately recognized her error.  He was giving her the same look Tom and Nick did whenever she used that tone.  Another tactic was in order.