Scandal

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Scandal Page 23

by Amanda Quick


  It seemed to Simon that the ticking of the library clock was much louder than usual. In fact, the silence in the room was growing oppressive. Now that he considered the matter, the entire house seemed unusually quiet.

  It was odd how Emily’s moods seemed to affect the staff these days. Hardened men who had once waded in blood up to their ankles now went around whistling or looking glum, depending on whether or not their mistress was smiling or dejected. It was ridiculous.

  Simon got up from the desk and went to stand near the window. It was inevitable, he supposed, that sooner or later the elf would learn that his indulgence had definite limits. Emily had a disturbing tendency to go blithely through life applying her silly romantical notions to everything and everyone. She was a natural optimist, always looking for happy endings.

  She also had a bad habit of believing she could cajole him into doing whatever she wished. That belief had evidently grown considerably stronger since last night’s passionate session here in the library.

  Simon’s gaze flickered briefly toward the gold satin pillow where Emily had lain in his arms, her fingers desperately clutching handfuls of white silk. His body began to harden at the memory. He had never known such an exciting creature in his entire life as his bewitching green-eyed elf.

  “My lord?”

  Simon blinked away the image and regained control of himself. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder at his butler, who was standing in the doorway. “What is it, Greaves?”

  “I am sorry to bother you, sir. I knocked, but you apparently did not hear me.”

  “I was lost in thought,” Simon said impatiently. “What did you want?”

  Greaves coughed discreetly, his scarred face looking more forbidding than usual. “I believe there is something you should know, sir. Lady Blade has, ah, delivered certain instructions to George, the footman.”

  “What instructions?” Simon walked back to his desk.

  “She has asked George to find her a member of the criminal class who is skilled in the art of kidnapping.”

  Simon looked up swiftly, staring at his butler in stunned amazement. “Kidnapping! Are you certain?”

  “Quite certain, sir. George was horrified, as you can imagine. He came straight to me and I have come directly to you. It seems my lady wishes to interview a successful villain who is in the market for temporary employment. Perhaps she is doing research for her epic poem, sir?”

  “And perhaps she has decided to take certain matters into her own hands,” Simon muttered. He sat down at his desk and reached for paper and pen. Quickly he dashed off a note.

  Madam:

  I am interested in the employment you have specified. Let us meet on the Dark Walk at Vauxhall this evening at midnight. Carry a white fan. I shall find you and we shall discuss terms.

  Yrs,

  X.

  P.S.: Use your husband’s carriage and bring your maid with you.

  Simon scanned the note, folded it carefully, and handed it to Greaves. “See that Lady Blade receives this in about an hour’s time. And do not fret, Greaves. The situation is under control.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Greaves looked somewhat relieved.

  Simon waited until his butler had left the room before getting up to pour himself a glass of claret.

  This was what came of overindulging females. Things had gone far enough. It was time Emily learned a very important lesson.

  The fireworks that lit up the sky above Vauxhall Gardens were a serious distraction, not only for Lizzie, but also for Emily. She had never seen such a display and in spite of her concerns she kept pausing to look up at each colorful flash. Cascades of light showered down from the heavens, the loud hissing explosions partially drowning out the crescendos of the energetic orchestra and the cheers of the crowds.

  It was a thrilling spectacle and Emily would have been thoroughly captivated if she had not had far more important matters on her hands.

  “Lord love us, ma’am, I never saw anything like this back in Little Dippington.” Lizzie gazed in awe as another display of fire and light lit the night sky.

  “Yes, I know, Lizzie. It is quite wonderful, but we must not linger. We must find the Dark Walk.”

  “’Tis way off at the far end of the grounds, ma’am,” Lizzie said promptly. “Very dark and narrow it is, too, not like the one we’re on now. Surrounded by trees and bushes, it is. Young ladies have been known to be carried off the walk, straight into the woods and ravished.”

  Emily shot her maid a suspicious glance. “How would you know about the Dark Walk, Lizzie?”

  “George the footman took me there the night you went to the Northcotes’ ball,” Lizzie confided with a cheerful grin. “Bought me ice cream, he did.”

  “I see.” Emily clutched her shawl more tightly around her shoulders and tried to sound stern but she could not help feeling a bit envious of her maid. The thought of eating ice cream and promenading down the Dark Walk with Simon was enough to revive all her natural romantic impulses. “Then you will be able to show me how to find the walk.”

  “This way, ma’am.”

  Lizzie skipped off into the shadows. Emily followed, glancing around uneasily. The farther she and her maid got from the main promenades, the fewer lanterns were about to light their path. Giggles, small, feminine yelps, and masculine laughter drifted out from the woods that lined the paths.

  Eventually Emily and Lizzie reached the narrow, treebordered Dark Walk. Here and there couples strolled, lost in a world of their own. One young man on the path ahead of Emily bent his head and said something into his girl’s ear. She giggled, glanced back and forth along the path, and then followed her escort into the undergrowth. The couple promptly disappeared.

  “Just like I told you, ma’am. Ravishers is hovering everywhere waitin’ to prey on innocent young females,” Lizzie whispered in an excited voice.

  “Stay close to me, Lizzie. We don’t want you being snatched. Where would I find another maid as skilled as you?”

  “True enough, I suppose.”

  There was no one else in sight now. Emily looked about and saw only the night-shrouded woods. Involuntarily she moved closer to her maid.

  “Do not forget to show your fan, ma’am,” Lizzie said, sounding a bit more subdued now as they found themselves alone on the Dark Walk. “George particularly said you was to bring it. He said that’s how this professional villain would recognize you.”

  “Oh, yes. The fan.” Emily hastily unfurled the white fan with the elegant dragon motif on it. She waved it about industriously. “I do hope George knew what he was doing when he hired this person from the criminal class.”

  “No offense, ma’am, but I hope you know what you’re doing. This is a strange business we’re at here, if you don’t mind my sayin’ so.”

  “Do not be impertinent, Lizzie.” But the truth was, Emily was beginning to agree with her. The plan had seemed perfect when she had drafted it in the safety of her own bedchamber but now she admitted to herself she was having a few qualms. She really did not know all that much about dealing with professional villains. A sudden movement on the path ahead startled her.

  “Bloody hell.” Emily bit back a small shriek when a young urchin suddenly dashed out of the woods and came to a halt directly in front of her. Lizzie gave a scream of fright and clutched at Emily’s arm.

  “You be the lady with the white fan?” the lad demanded.

  “Yes,” Emily said, trying to calm her racing pulse. “Who are you?”

  “No matter. Yer to go straight into them bushes. Alone.” The boy looked meaningfully at Lizzie.

  “What about me?” Lizzie asked fearfully.

  “Yer to stay right there and wait for yer mistress to come back,” the boy told her brusquely. Then he whirled and dashed off. In a few seconds he had vanished back into the woods.

  Lizzie looked plaintively at Emily. “I do not want to be staying here all alone, ma’am.”

  “Calm yourself, Lizzie. Yo
u will be quite all right. Stay right here in the center of the path.”

  “But, ma’am …”

  “You must be brave, Lizzie.” Emily patted her maid’s arm reassuringly and straightened her shoulders. She wished there was someone around to reassure her.

  It took courage to step off the walk into the shadowy woods. The darkness thickened immediately as drooping branches closed in around her. Emily held her fan in front of her as if it were a talisman and peered sharply into the heavy undergrowth. She could not help remembering what her maid had told her earlier about ravishers lurking in these woods.

  When the deep, rasping, masculine voice came softly from behind a large tree on her right, Emily jumped several inches.

  “You be the lady what’s wantin’ to hire herself a kidnapper?”

  Emily swallowed, aware that her palms were suddenly damp. “That is correct. You, I assume, are the, uh, professional villain seeking employment?”

  “Depends what exactly yer wants done.”

  “Nothing terribly difficult,” Emily assured the rasping voice. “A little matter of kidnapping, as my footman no doubt told you. There is a gentleman whom I would like to have removed from town for a few days. I do not want him hurt, you understand, but merely held in a safe place for, oh, say five days. Can you do that?”

  “It’ll cost yer plenty.”

  Emily relaxed a bit. This was familiar territory. Apparently business deals in the criminal world were similar to those conducted in the ton. “I understand. I am prepared to pay a reasonable sum, naturally. But before you tell me your price, let me be clear that there really is no danger attached to this job. A very simple matter, really.”

  “Why five days?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Emily frowned.

  “Why d’ya want this gentry cove to disappear for five days?” the rasping voice repeated, sounding impatient.

  “Not that it is any of your business,” Emily said curtly, “but that is approximately how long I imagine it will take to clear up the problem here in town. When things are settled here, it will be safe for Charles—that is, for the gentry cove—to return to his lodgings.”

  “Yer just a female. How do you plan to fix matters here for the cove? Or do yer intend to hire me fer that part, too?”

  “Oh, no, I shall not be needing your services to handle the main problem,” Emily explained breezily. “My husband will be taking over soon. He will see to the details of settling the issue. When that is done, you may release my bro—er, the gentry cove.”

  There was a distinct pause from the other side of the tree. When the rasping voice spoke again, it sounded somewhat baffled. “Yer husband is going to settle things?”

  “Of course.”

  “If that be so, why the devil ain’t ’e ’ere tonight? Why ain’t he arrangin’ the snatch?”

  Emily cleared her throat. “Well, as to that, he is a trifle annoyed with me at the moment. He does not completely approve of my efforts to save this particular gentry cove, you see. But he will soon come around. He just needs a little time to think about it.”

  “Damnation, lady. What makes yer think ’e’ll change ’is mind?” the rasping voice demanded, sounding incensed. “Ye think ye got ’im on leading strings? Ye think ’e’s so besotted with ye that all ye got to do is beckon ’im into bed with yer little finger and ’e’ll do what ’ere you want ’em to do?”

  Emily drew herself up proudly. “It has nothing to do with the way he feels about me. My husband is a just and honorable man and he will do the right thing. He just needs a little time to think about it first. And I do not happen to have a great deal of time.”

  “Mayhap ’e don’t think savin’ this gentry cove is the right thing,” the voice snapped.

  “Well, it is and he will soon see that for himself. The gentry cove is an innocent young man who happens to have gotten himself into deep water and will very likely get killed before he can swim out of it. My husband will not allow that to happen.”

  “Bloody ’ell,” the voice muttered. “I ’ear different. I ’ear yer ’usband is a ’ard un. Not one to let ’imself be led about by a female. It’s my guess ’e’ll not only let this gentry cove take ’is chances, but ’e’ll be out to teach you a sharp lesson, too.”

  “Nonsense,” Emily said briskly. “You know nothing about my husband. He is a true gentleman. His thinking just gets a bit muddled at times, but I find that is true of most men. Now, then, let us get on with our bargain. What is your asking price?”

  “A great deal more than yer wantin’ to pay, I’ll wager,” the voice grated.

  “How much?”

  “What if I was to say the price for me services was a toss in the ’ay?” The voice was suddenly savage.

  Emily froze, truly frightened for the first time that evening. She edged backward a step. “If you ever dare say such a thing to me again I shall tell my husband and he will break your damn bloody neck.”

  “Is that a fact?” the voice taunted roughly.

  “Most definitely,” Emily declared fiercely. “My husband protects his own. If you so much as touch me, I guarantee he will not rest until he tracks you down. I doubt if you would survive a day.”

  “Christ. Ye ’ave me shiverin’ in me boots, lady,” the voice drawled.

  “As well you should be.” Emily lifted her chin. “Be aware that if you are contemplating anything treacherous, you had better know that I left a letter at home in my bedchamber. In it I told my husband precisely what I was going to do tonight. In the event I am harmed in any way, he will know to go to George, the man who hired you. From George he will learn your identity. You will not stand a chance of escaping his lordship’s wrath. Do you understand me?”

  “No,” Simon said ruefully as he stepped out from behind the tree. “But I am beginning to believe that it is my fate to be forever unable to comprehend your strange fits and starts.”

  “Simon.” Emily stared in astonishment at the tall, dark figure shrouded in a greatcoat. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  “Damned if I know. I believe I had some vague notion of giving you a good scare and thereby teaching you a much-needed lesson. But that is surprisingly difficult to do when you insist on threatening me with myself.”

  “Oh, Simon, I knew you would help me save Charles.” Emily flung herself into his arms. “I knew you just needed a little time to think about the matter. You could not possibly allow my poor brother to fight a duel.”

  Simon crushed her against him for a moment. “I ought to beat you soundly and lock you in your room for a month for hatching this insane plot. You know that, don’t you? Good God, woman, what do you mean by arranging to hire professional villains? Do you have any notion of what you were getting involved in? Kidnapping, of all things.”

  “I know you are annoyed with me, my lord,” Emily said, her voice muffled by the thick wool of his coat. “But you must see time was of the essence. I knew you would come around eventually, but I had to do something about rescuing Charles immediately. I was merely trying to buy a little time for you to come to your senses and realize that you had to help me save my brother.”

  “And I suppose you now believe that is exactly what I will do?” Simon asked coolly.

  Emily raised her head to look up into his shadowed face. “I do not believe you can let him risk death, Simon. Surely you do not hate him. He had nothing to do with what happened all those years ago. He was only a boy.”

  “The sins of the fathers …” Simon quoted softly.

  “Nonsense. If that applies, then it applies to me, as well as Devlin and Charles. And you do not hold me responsible for what happened to your family twenty-three years ago, do you?”

  Simon exhaled heavily and gave her a gentle push back toward the path. “We will discuss this later.”

  Emily glanced back over her shoulder as he followed her out of the woods. “What are we going to do now, Simon?”

  “It appears there is nothing for it but to see
what I can do about rescuing that scapegrace brother of yours. Obviously I will not have any peace otherwise.”

  “Thank you, Simon.”

  “It would be well for you to remember, elf, that this is the one and only favor I ever intend to do for a Faringdon.”

  “I understand,” Emily said softly. “And I shall be forever grateful.”

  “I do not particularly want your gratitude,” Simon told her.

  “What do you want?”

  “Assurance that you will never again get yourself into a scrape like this. You could have been robbed, raped, or killed tonight, Emily. Sending George to hire a villain was a monumentally stupid notion.”

  She tightened her grip on her shawl as they stepped back out onto the path. “Yes, my lord.”

  “Furthermore, in future, you are not to—” Simon broke off with an oath as Lizzie cried out at the sight of them and rushed toward her mistress.

  “There you are, ma’am. Thank the sweet Lord. I was so worried. I was afraid you’d been carried off and ravished and I did not know what on earth I was going to tell his lordship when he asked about you and it would have been hard to keep him from knowing you was gone. Sooner or later he would have been bound to notice and—” Lizzie halted abruptly as she realized who it was standing next to Emily.

  “You are quite right,” Simon said coldly. “Sooner or later I would have been bound to notice if her ladyship had been carried off.”

  “Oh, sir.” Lizzie gave a jerky little curtsy and stared at Simon in shock. “’Tis you, sir.”

  “Very observant of you. And if you do not wish to find yourself on the street looking for a new position without benefit of references, you will endeavor to make certain that in future her ladyship never promenades along the Dark Walk alone again.”

  “Yes, sir.” Lizzie looked terrified now.

  Emily gave her husband a chiding look. “Simon, do stop frightening the poor girl. As for you, Lizzie, stop sniffling and collect yourself. All is well. His lordship was on to my scheme right from the start. Was that not brilliant of him?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lizzie cast an uncertain glance at Simon’s forbidding face. “Brilliant.”

 

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