Saxon unlocked the door and opened it an inch. “What?” he snapped.
“Sorry, sir. Urgent, sir. One of your…er…associates just came to the back entrance. Says he went to the theatre and missed you there. He has news he must tell you immediately, my lord. I’ve shown him into your study.”
“Tell him I’ll be down in a minute.”
He shut the door and returned to Ashiana’s side. Bending down, he tilted her chin up, his touch infinitely gentle. “Wait here,” he commanded quietly. “Don’t move. Not one inch. I’ll be back shortly—and we will finish this discussion once and for all.”
He kissed her, a deep, tender kiss that was over too quickly. Ashiana didn’t attempt to argue. It was useless to tell him there was nothing more to discuss. He grabbed his dark gray frock coat from where he had tossed it earlier and pulled it on as he headed for the door.
When he left the room, she felt her earlier chill return in an icy rush.
He was her warmth. Saxon. Hotter than any fire, brighter than the sun, more comforting than the thickest furs, stronger and more potent than wine.
And she was going to have to get used to living without him. When she returned to the heat-drenched islands that were her home, she knew she would be colder than she had ever been in England.
She sat staring down at the patterned rug and the remainders of her abandoned supper, too melancholy to even eat another bite of the delicious little pastries. Saxon had been gone only a few minutes when a knock came at the door.
“Come in,” she said, puzzled that he had paused to knock. She cleared her throat and repeated it more loudly, realizing she had barely whispered. “Come in.”
To her surprise, it was Eugenie. The maid smiled. “Lovely to see you’ve got the color back in your cheeks, miss. Are you feeling better? Captain Bennett is below, in the parlor. Something about a late supper?”
“Oh! I forgot all about Andrew. Thank you, Eugenie.” Ashiana rose and went to the door, then turned back and fetched her shoes and gloves. She didn’t intend to go to the late supper with Andrew and his family as she had promised, but she could at least look presentable when she went down to apologize for leaving the theatre so abruptly.
She paused to glance in the mirror as she pulled her gloves on, taking a moment to smooth her dress and her hair, hoping no one would be able to tell she had been cavorting on the floor in a torrid embrace.
Mistress.
Trying to forget that word she had come to despise, she followed Eugenie down to the parlor.
“Andrew,” she greeted him as she stepped inside. “I am terribly sorry I left the play without a word to you. I was not feeling well, and Saxon thought it best to bring me home.”
“Are you quite all right?” He looked concerned. “You appear a bit feverish.”
“I-I am fine, thank you.” She glanced away, her cheeks warming even more. “I have been suffering from what the duchess calls ‘the sniffles.’ But I am feeling better now.”
“Excellent. My coach is outside, and my family are so looking forward to meeting you.”
She noticed a sparkle of boyish excitement in his eyes, and felt terrible for having to decline. She would certainly welcome an escape from the rest of the discussion Saxon had promised, but she wasn’t going to run off like a coward. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you tonight.”
“Another time, then?”
“I hope so,” Ashiana agreed, already escorting him back to the foyer.
“Do you think you might come out just for a moment, Lady Ashiana? I have a dear friend who has been simply dying to make your acquaintance, and she was so disappointed to miss you at the theatre. She had her driver follow my carriage over.”
Ashiana hesitated. She really should check with Saxon before going anywhere. But he was busy, and Andrew seemed so eager. If this one simple request could make up for so rudely missing his medal ceremony and tonight’s supper, it was the least she could do.
Besides, she was with Andrew. She was completely safe.
“Townshend,” she said to the footman at the door, “I’m going to step outside a moment. If Lord Saxon comes looking for me, will you let him know I’ll be right back?”
“Certainly, miss.” Townshend hurried to fetch her cape and draped it around her shoulders.
Andrew offered his arm. “You do me a great favor, my lady. My friend said she would hold me in eternal esteem if I managed an introduction to the mysterious young lady recently arrived from the East.”
Ashiana smiled at seeing the happiness in his eyes. They stepped outside and Townshend shut the door behind them. As Andrew led her down the steps and into the darkness, Ashiana shivered, feeling the night’s sharp cold seep through her in seconds.
Two coaches waited at the end of the walk, the drivers hunched in voluminous cloaks and wool scarves. Andrew approached the second one and tapped on the door.
To Ashiana’s surprise, the figure who waited inside was clearly not a lady. “Andrew,” she said in puzzlement, “what is—”
“What the devil, man,” Andrew exclaimed with surprise. “Where are her paren—”
Someone leaped out of the darkness and struck Andrew from behind just as a leather-gloved hand cut off Ashiana’s scream.
The man leaned out the door and smiled in the light of the coach lamps. “Don’t you appreciate my little surprise, Lady Ashiana? Ah, I see you remember me.”
Ashiana was lifted from behind and thrown into the coach. The instant the gloved hand came away from her mouth, she screamed for help. But the driver had already whipped the horses and the team lunged down the street at a gallop. The coach raced away into the night even before the curtained door slammed behind her.
She struck at Greyslake with her fists. He shoved her into a corner of the seat beside him. When she started to scream again, he clamped a hand over her lips.
“Save your breath, my dear. You’re too late to save your friend Bennett. I’m sure his death will make all the papers—hero tragically killed on the street while visiting the man he rescued. Too many footpads, vagabonds, and highwaymen on the roads these days. Dangerous to even step outside one’s door.”
Ashiana made a sound of anguish in her throat. Andrew! She struggled, but Greyslake pressed against her, his weight crushing her into the seat.
“I’ve so been looking forward to renewing our acquaintance, my lady. I had hoped to catch you at that fool Bennett’s medal ceremony—but D’Avenant was too smart to let you attend. So I did the next best thing and made friends with Bennett. He was quick to accept a fellow Navy captain into his circle.”
Ashiana tried to slow her racing heartbeat, tried to think. Where was he taking her? He hadn’t killed her outright, so he must have something even worse in mind.
The answer pierced her heart.
He meant to use her as bait! To lure Saxon to his death!
She tried again to call out but no sound passed his hand. She fought him, kicking and struggling against his hold.
“Enough!” Greyslake released her mouth and struck her across the face with the back of his fist. Ashiana cried out, her cheek burning with pain, her mind reeling dizzily. She tasted blood on her tongue.
“Don’t make me damage you just yet.” He grabbed her jaw in a painful grip, forcing her to meet his dark gaze. “I’ve waited too long for this. Do you think it was easy convincing Bennett to keep my presence a secret? I told him I had read about you in the papers, that I had been sent by your long-lost father the Earl. I said your parents wanted to surprise you. Tonight’s supper was to be your reunion celebration.”
Ashiana felt her heart sink. Andrew had always been so hopeful that she would find her English “parents.” Greyslake seemed to know exactly how to play on his victims’ weaknesses.
“I was right there at the Drury Lane tonight,” Greyslake continued with relish. “Waiting in my coach at the rear of the theatre. I told him I would have your mother and father with me and that we would give y
ou a ride to the party. I even told him to use that line about meeting a lady friend so you wouldn’t guess and ruin your surprise.” His pleased expression vanished. “But then you left early.”
Ashiana’s heartbeat doubled. Paige. Julian. Max. Had he hurt any of them?
Greyslake leaned to the side and parted the window curtains. “You can scream all you want now.” He slowly removed his hand. “No one will help you. Not in this part of town.”
Ashiana tried to stop shaking. Her cheek throbbed where he had struck her. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. “There is no need to do this,” she said desperately. “You have already had your vengeance. You have hurt Saxon before—”
“Not half so much as I’m going to hurt him now.” He shoved her back against the seat again, pinning her there, grabbing her wrist. Her other arm was wedged behind her back. “Shall I begin?”
Ashiana felt herself go pale, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing her plead for mercy. “You cannot hurt him by hurting me. And he won’t come after me. I mean nothing to him—”
Greyslake’s laughter cut her off. “You forget I was his friend once. Why do you think I selected you? I could have abducted one of his brothers. Or his mother. You will make him careless. I’ve been following you for days. Watching you with him. You mean even more to him than his wife did.”
Ashiana gasped in shock.
His wife.
Suddenly she knew what it was that Saxon had been unable to tell her earlier. Understanding flooded in. “You killed her,” she choked out.
“On the morning of their wedding,” Greyslake said with satisfaction, “in a pretty little Maratha village. And that was only the first part of the payment I will exact. Now the rest begins. But we have time. You will not die so quickly as she did.”
Terror made Ashiana’s heart hammer as he leaned closer.
“First, my lovely bit of bait,” he hissed, “you will tell me everything you know about the sapphires.”
“What s-sapphires?” She pressed her head back against the seat cushion, straining away from him.
And struck upon a plan.
“Don’t try my patience, girl. The Nine Sapphires of Kashmir. The jewels that will make me one of the richest men in the world.”
“What…what is it you wish to know?”
She moved her hand, the one trapped behind her back, up toward the curls pinned at the nape of her neck. Her years of yoga practice had made her more flexible than Greyslake could ever suspect. If she could just keep him talking—
“Where are they?” His fingers tightened around her other wrist, making her gasp in pain.
“I do not know.” She inched her hand up…her fingers straining to reach one of the long hairpins that held her coiffure in place.
From inside his coat, Greyslake withdrew a large, double-edged knife that gleamed in the darkness. “You will tell me. Now. Or I will slice off an ear to send as a token to D’Avenant.”
“The…the sapphires are hidden at…” Ashiana’s fingers grasped the jeweled head of the pin. “At…”
“Where?” He placed one sharp edge of the blade beneath her ear.
She yanked the pin free, twisted to the side, and stabbed the point into his hand.
Greyslake yelled with surprise and dropped the knife, snatching his hand away. Before he could reclaim his hold on her, Ashiana lunged toward the door, grabbing desperately for the handle. She threw all her weight against it.
It opened far more easily than she had expected. With a startled cry, she tumbled outward with the door as the coach raced around a turn and onto a bridge. Greyslake shouted curses and grabbed for her cloak, too late. She hung suspended for one terrifying second before she fell.
She tried to roll but her knee, elbow, and side all struck the ground painfully hard. The cobbled street knocked the breath from her. She barely missed being crushed by the coach wheels.
She lay dazed until the sound of Greyslake shouting at his driver brought her to her feet. They were on a bridge that spanned a huge river. She could barely make out the shadows of buildings along the banks. There were no street lamps here. The only light came from the moon.
“Help!” she screamed. “Someone help me!”
The few people in the shabby-looking area took one look at the unfolding scene and fled.
The driver had yanked the horses to a stop. Greyslake was already leaping out of the coach. Ashiana turned to run—only to see a dark-haired man on horseback galloping straight toward her.
He brandished a pistol in each hand.
Ashiana froze, screaming, certain she was about to be killed.
“Get out of the way!” the stranger yelled, aiming over her head and firing.
The explosive sound of the pistol shot rang in her ears, followed by another. It took Ashiana a second to realize that he was not shooting at her, but at Greyslake and the driver.
“I’m supposed to be protecting you!” the man shouted. Reining in his lathered horse, he holstered the empty pistols on his saddle and leaned down, holding out his arm. “Come on!”
Ashiana wasn’t quick enough. Her moment’s hesitation had been one moment too long.
Greyslake’s knife hissed through the air and struck the man in the shoulder. Her rescuer fell backward with a shout of pain, knocked from his horse.
Before Ashiana had time to react, Greyslake was behind her, grabbing her and yanking her back against him as a shield.
“I’ll kill her!” he shouted as the man got to his feet. “Back off or she dies!”
Ashiana screamed. Greyslake fastened his arm around her throat with such force that he cut off her air. One quick snap would break her neck. He was wounded; she could feel blood soaking into the back of her cloak. The driver was nowhere to be seen.
Her rescuer jerked the knife from his shoulder with a curse.
“Stay away!” Greyslake backed toward the low bridge railing. “Send your horse over here.”
Instead of complying, the man crouched as if he meant to lunge toward them, gripping the knife in one hand.
“Now, you bastard!” Greyslake suddenly lifted her up—onto the metal railing. Ashiana could hear the icy river currents rushing by, so far below she could barely see them in the darkness. Greyslake balanced her precariously on the edge, one arm still around her throat. She strained to reach the railing, but her fingers couldn’t grasp it. If he released his hold on her, she would fall.
“Send your horse over here,” Greyslake demanded, “or I will—”
The clatter of hoofbeats sounded from the end of the bridge.
“Ashiana!”
“Saxon!” She managed only that strangled cry of relief and love and terror before Greyslake’s arm tightened. Saxon galloped out of the darkness on an unsaddled horse.
“Stay back, D’Avenant!” Greyslake shouted, his voice getting higher. “I’ll kill her!”
Saxon jumped to the ground, his eyes never leaving Ashiana’s. Her heart beat erratically. He tossed the single pistol he held to the stranger in the dark clothes.
The man caught the pistol and aimed it at Greyslake.
Saxon moved slowly toward the railing, his hands held away from his sides. “It’s over, Greyslake. Let her go.”
His enemy spat a curse. “How did you get here so quickly?”
Ashiana could hear Greyslake’s breathing becoming labored. If his arm weakened, he would drop her. She gasped for air, praying for courage, focusing on Saxon’s deep voice.
“One of my operatives came to tell me you had been spotted at the theatre. And the footpads you hired weren’t up to your usual standards—Bennett managed to fight them off. He told me what your coach looked like. But I already knew where you would go.”
“I wanted you to find us,” Greyslake shot back. “I knew the Scuppers and Blood tavern would be the first place you’d look. But by the time you got to our old haunt, you would have only found a piece of her. I was about to take an ear to leave with the not
e telling you where to go next.”
Ashiana’s stomach lurched. In her heart, she reached out to Saxon for strength against the terror and cold that made her tremble.
“It’s over,” Saxon said, his voice dangerously soft. “Let her go. You don’t want to do this.”
“This is justice, you murdering bastard! Two lives for two lives!”
“It’s my life you want.” Saxon raised his empty hands. “If you kill her, Logan will shoot you. I’ll still be alive. Think about it, Greyslake. I’ll still be alive. Let her go and it will be you and me. Whatever weapons you want. One to one.”
Ashiana felt tears burn her eyes at what Saxon was offering—his life for hers.
She could hear the river lapping below…such a long, long way down.
Greyslake seemed to hesitate, breathing hard.
“John,” Saxon said quietly, “you don’t want to do this. You know I never touched Faith. You know I didn’t murder them. It was an accident.”
“No! It was you! You took the last of my family!”
“The fire took them. There was nothing anyone could have done. Not you, not me. We can’t always explain a tragedy, John. There isn’t always a reason.”
Sensing Greyslake’s distraction, Ashiana tried to move. He struck her again, a hard blow to her cheek.
Saxon swore savagely. “If she dies, you die!”
Ashiana could barely hear Greyslake’s reply over the buzzing in her head.
“Then we die.”
He pushed her over the edge.
Saxon lunged forward too late. Ashiana fell without a sound. Not a cry, not a scream. Greyslake’s blow might have knocked her unconscious.
Logan fired the pistol. Greyslake shouted in pain but he was already diving toward Saxon, knocking him backward before he could reach the railing. They fell to the ground.
“You’re too late!” Greyslake laughed.
Saxon’s fist smashed into Greyslake’s jaw. He tried to shove him aside, desperate to save Ashiana. Greyslake’s hands fastened around his throat. Logan rushed at them but they were already locked in combat.
One Night with a Scoundrel Page 33
