The Perfect Impostor (19 page)

“What!”

“When are you gonna lift it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He slapped her across the face. Hard. She felt her lip split and the tangy taste of blood trickled into her mouth. “Don’t mess me about, Katrina. Your little-miss-innocent ploy won’t work with me. I know you too well.”

“I’m not a thief!”

He laughed aloud. “That’s a good ‘un.”

Without warning, he grabbed her bodice and ripped it. Then he placed a hand on her breast and squeezed so hard that it brought tears to her eyes.

“When we leave here, I’m gonna mark you real good just so you know who you really belong to,” he said. “And don’t think that I won’t do it.”

He pulled her closer and Katrina’s heart crashed against her ribs. It was history repeating itself. The same cruel mouth hovered above hers, the same greedy eyes devoured her. His hands fumbled with her skirts. He was panting, almost drooling with anticipation. Katrina stumbled, her knees too weak to support her.

He was about to rape her and there was absolutely nothing she could do to prevent him.

Leo watched his Tethys slip away from the ballroom. Gower was conducting an open flirtation with Mrs. Nugent and didn’t notice her leave so at least she’d be safe from him. Even so, his instincts screamed at him to go after her. Somehow he understood that she’d never been in greater need of his protection. But he couldn’t follow her. At least not right away. Tonight he had to oversee his network of informers, all of whom were keeping a watchful eye on the duchess’s tiara. A tiara she was no longer wearing. He hadn’t anticipated that she might cause him added problems by abandoning it halfway through the ball.

“It’s too heavy to wear all night,” she told him when she returned to the ballroom and he remarked upon its absence. “I’ll finish up with a permanent stoop if I attempt it.”

“That is a situation we couldn’t possibly allow,” he said, smiling through his frustration.

“It’s in my room now and so I expect your thief will take the opportunity to relieve me of the wretched thing.” She puffed out her wrinkled cheeks. “Damned good job too.”

“I wish you’d informed me that you wouldn’t wear it for the entire evening, Your Grace.”

Richard had warned the duchess what was likely to happen. It was only fair that she be prepared. After all, she was likely to lose a valuable family heirloom. Far from objecting, she appeared to find the whole exercise vastly amusing.

“Oh, I thought you knew.” She waved his protests aside. “I never bother to show it off for long.”

Which meant the thieves probably knew that, as well. Leo was the only one in ignorance.

“Now then, young man, make yourself useful and find me a glass of wine.”

Leo did as she asked, assimilating this unexpected turn of events. If a theft had taken place tonight, now was the perfect opportunity to spirit the loot away because everyone was making their way onto the terrace to watch the fireworks.

He encountered Boscombe as he headed towards the duchess’s room. His man nodded grimly as he saw him approaching.

“It’s gone,” he said.

“Two thieves? The ones we suspected?”

“Yeah.”

“And Lady Dupont?”

“There’s no sign of her.” He paused. “I think she was with someone on the landing a few minutes back, having a bit of a heated discussion, but by the time I got here, they’d gone.”

Leo felt bereft as he knocked on the impostor’s door and entered without waiting for a response, mainly because he knew he wouldn’t get one. He had convinced himself that Katrina knew nothing about these thefts. He believed it because he wanted to, even when all the evidence pointed to the contrary. But there could no longer be any doubt that she was involved in some way. And the person on the landing had been her accomplice.

What he saw when he entered the room, far from confirming her guilt, actually caused him a moment’s doubt. An empty jewel case was in the middle of the bed. Why would she have left it there? It was almost as though her maid, who presumably did the actual stealing whilst he was waltzing with the impostor, wanted her to be caught. And she would have been if she hadn’t left the ball so early. The villains didn’t know why Leo was really here so they would assume that the case would be missed and the adjoining rooms searched.

“Come on then, let’s get after Celia and Dupont’s groom. They can’t have got far.”

“They haven’t. They were still in the groom’s room above the stables a few minutes ago, the cheeky beggars.”

“Probably killing time until they need to pass on the tiara.”

Boscombe harrumphed. “That’s one way of interpreting their actions, I suppose.”

“You stay here, on second thoughts, Boscombe. I’ll go after them alone. If the impostor comes back, make sure she doesn’t get away.”

“All right, if you’re sure.”

“Oh, I think I can handle one groom and a slip of a girl unaided.”

Leo let himself out of a side door, grim-faced as he tried to figure out which way Celia and the groom would take. Presumably the person they would pass the booty on to was in place close by, but they’d hardly risk getting to him by the front drive. If the alarm was raised, two servants using the main entrance would be noticed immediately.

The path at the back of the lake was the obvious escape route for those not wanting to draw attention to themselves. Leo had spent hours exploring these grounds as a lad and knew it led directly to the road. It would be easy for a groom to conceal a couple of horses there. Trusting his instincts, Leo headed in that direction.

He saw them almost immediately. They were walking very fast along the same path he’d taken with Katrina just the other day. And they appeared to be arguing. They didn’t seem worried that anyone might be following them, and Leo was able to get close enough to hear what they were saying. Celia was pleading with the man to see reason. He stopped walking, turned towards her and laughed.

“Celia, you’re a trusting little thing, right enough. I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful, really I don’t, but you’ve served your purpose.”

“What do you mean, James? We’re going to be together. That was the plan. That’s why we did all this.”

“I’m going to Ireland, darlin’, true enough. I’ve got a sweet little thing with emerald eyes and a lovely smile waiting for me there, and I want to thank you for helping to make it possible.”

“But, I don’t understand…you and I are—”

“Finished,” he said savagely.

He drew the girl into his arms, delivered a smacking kiss to her lips and then pushed her hard. She screamed as she lost her footing on the slippery bank and tumbled into the deep end of the lake. Her head disappeared beneath the water and didn’t resurface.

* * *

Katrina struggled to draw breath, unsure how to defend herself against Amos’s loathsome advances. The touch of his hands made her shudder, bile rose in her throat and she feared she might cast up her accounts. Would that be so very bad? It might divert him and offer her a chance to escape.

His grip tightened, as though he could read her thoughts, and the brief glimmer of hope faded. Even if she screamed, no one would hear her, not with the noise of the ball and her being so deep inside this closet. Amos was twice as strong as she was, driven by the desire for revenge and a ruthless determination to inflict pain. His brother had been just the same. Causing pain made him feel good about himself.

Her heart crashed against her ribs at twice its regular rate as her mind whirred with a thousand wild possibilities, all focused upon escape, but none of them seemed viable. She screwed her eyes tight shut, ready to endure it all in silence. Hoping it would be over quickly.

Amos seemed pleased by her subservience, which gave her an idea. When he pulled her into his arms she made no objection, trying not to wince when his hands pawed at her body, or choke on the disgusting odour rising from his clothes.

“Better than that toff wot’s been all over you like a rash,” he whispered harshly in her ear. “You’ll get to know what a real man’s like before this night is out. You’ll be begging me for it, you just see if you’re not.”

She wanted to tell him to go to the devil, to scratch at his eyes and pound at him with her fists. But she knew it would do her no good. Besides, it was what he wanted. The more fear she showed, the more aggressive he’d become. And so she sagged against him, forcing every bone in her body to relax, careful to keep the tension out of her shoulders. She did everything she could think of to lull him into a less watchful state. Let him think he was in charge, and perhaps an opportunity would present itself.

“I didn’t kill your brother,” she said in a breathless rush when he hitched up her skirts and she realised he wasn’t about to waste any more time.

“I don’t care if you did or you didn’t. He turned from a good man into a worthless drunk once you got yer claws into him.”

Katrina didn’t know what to say. All she’d ever heard from Amos was how good and noble his sainted brother was. And now this. Perhaps he was finally being truthful, allowing his resentment and jealousy of Jeb to show.

“I only care that you ran away from me.” He puffed out his chest. Irrationally, Katrina found herself comparing it to Leo’s and finding it sadly wanting. How could such thoughts creep into her head when she was in such a perilous situation? Leo wasn’t going to ride to her rescue. No one was. She was on her own. “No one leaves Amos Fisher until he’s ready to let them go.”

“Yes, I can quite see that now.”

“Well, then.” Her subservient tone appeared to confound him, and when he spoke again it was with less aggression. “Just so long as we understand one another.”

Oh, I understand you all right, Amos Fisher. You’re a wastrel, a bully and a lout who survives on charm or aggression, with nothing in between.
She had more than two dimensions in her repertoire and there had never been a more vital time to deploy her intellect.

“I think we do,” she forced herself to say sweetly.

His kiss was vile. She kept her lips clamped together, determined that his tongue wouldn’t find its way between them. It no longer mattered if her stubbornness cost her life. Some things were sacrosanct. After the glorious sensation of Leo’s swirling tongue deep inside her mouth, no one else’s would ever be granted entry. But Amos didn’t seem to find anything unusual about her reticence. In fact it seemed to please him.

“Touch me,” he said in a thick voice.

Katrina thought she’d rather die. But her will to live won out over repulsion and she forced her fingers to touch the tip of his erection through the thin fabric of his breeches. He let his breath out in a long hiss, closed his eyes and threw his head back. It was the reaction she’d been hoping for, and she didn’t hesitate. She closed her fingers around his testicles and squeezed as hard as she possibly could. He howled, and the moment his eyes flew open Katrina jabbed the fingers of her other hand directly into his eye sockets. He released his hold on her as his hands instinctively flew to his face.

She brought her knee up, slammed it into his scrotum with considerable force and ran from that closet as though the devil himself was on her tail, barely aware of her torn bodice flapping about her. She could hear Amos bellowing after her. He knew where she was. She wouldn’t escape him for long. She blocked out the sound and flung herself into her room, sobbing, repulsed and yet triumphant to have overcome him, however temporarily.

Of all people, Boscombe was there. She didn’t think to wonder why but instinctively knew she was safe, at least for the time being. He caught her just before her legs gave out beneath her.

* * *

Leo swore profanely. James was getting away but it didn’t even occur to him to give chase. Not when a woman was flailing in the lake, out of her depth and obviously unable to swim. Why the hell hadn’t he brought Boscombe with him? Celia’s head appeared above the water, her arms thrashed about, and she opened her mouth to scream. As soon as she did so, she swallowed mouthfuls of water and her head disappeared beneath the surface again.

With a sigh Leo stripped off his coat and boots. He’d often swum in this lake as a boy. The banks were steep and the water deepened very quickly. A safe breeding ground for Marshall’s trout. Less of a haven for mere mortals since wading into the cold water proved to be impossible. The mud was like quicksand, slowing his progress to a snail’s pace as it sucked him down. If he didn’t get to her quickly, Celia would drown.

“Hold on,” he called to her. “Try not to panic. I’ll get to you.”

She responded by thrashing her arms even more frantically. Leo sighed, unsure if there was enough time to reach her but he had to try. The alternative was unthinkable. He took a deep breath, dove into the water and struck out in a strong crawl in the direction of the rapidly weakening maid.

He reached the terrified girl and caught her round the waist. But she was disoriented, seemed to think he was someone else who was trying to harm her, and fought him off, pulling them both under. If she carried on like this, she would drown them both. He let her go, pushed hard with his legs, gulping for air as his head broke the surface. With his lungs full of fresh sweet air he dove back down and tried again. This time he was more successful, got a firm hold of Celia’s waist and pulled her head clear. She was still flailing with her arms and legs and caught him a painful blow on his shin. But she was weakening fast.

“Stop fighting me, woman. I’m trying to help you.”

His voice slowly got through to her and she went limp, clinging on to him so tightly that she almost dragged him under again as he trod water, trying to keep them both afloat. Celia was wearing a heavy cloak that was acting as a dead weight. With numb fingers he wasted valuable time unfastening it and allowed it to float away. They were now right in the centre of the large lake and he tried to assess the shortest route back to the bank.

“I can’t swim,” she gasped.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “Just trust me,” he shouted. “I won’t let you drown.”
Even if it is what you deserve.

The night was warm but the water wasn’t. In spite of the effort he put into swimming and simultaneously dragging one terrified woman with him, he was feeling cold to the bone. Celia’s fingers were grasping his shoulders so tightly that he’d long since lost all feeling in them. How ridiculous would it be to die in the middle of a bloody lake, weighed down by a traitorous lady’s maid? The prospect gave Leo fresh resolve and he struck out more strongly for the bank.

They reached the shallows and Leo unceremoniously shoved Celia towards safety by giving her derriere a firm push. Her hands scrabbled for a hold on the muddy bank and eventually she fell onto the soft springy grass, panting, totally spent. Leo climbed inelegantly out of the water and took a moment to recover. Celia was barely conscious. He slapped her back and water spewed from her mouth.

“Bastard!” she muttered in a croaky voice before passing out.

That’s what you get for helping people, Leo thought wryly. With another exasperated sigh he wrapped her in his dry coat, put his boots back on and carried her to the house.