The Hopeless Hoyden

by Bennett, Margaret

  “You forget, Emily, he has not asked me."

  “Oh pooh." Emily dismissed this fact with an airy wave of her hand. “That is because he has not thought of it yet."

  Jane's expression suddenly turned to one of chagrin. “Promise me you will say nothing to him about this?" When Emily hesitated, she added, “Emily, you must give me your word, or--or I will tell Gabriel how you feel about him."

  “You would not." But at Jane's complacent smile, Emily knew she'd been bested and reluctantly agreed to say nothing of the matter to Freddy. Still, when Gabriel came in to see her later that afternoon, Emily wrestled with her conscience, but only for a moment before she opened her budget to him.

  “So you see, Gabriel, if Freddy does not declare himself within the next couple of days, Jane will be gone, and it is unlikely their paths will ever cross again."

  “I'm confident Freddy can handle matters of his heart without our interference," the infuriating man replied with a warning glint in his eyes.

  “But if he is blind to his own--"

  “Then, it's not for us to open his eyes." He was silent for a moment before he reached for her hand. “Emily, you should know that I sent in the announcement for our engagement the very next day to the paper."

  “I know. And Aunt Esmeralda wants you to throw a ball."

  “You don't sound very excited about it."

  “How can I marry you, Gabriel? If we had not been compromised by Cecil, you would not have asked me to marry you."

  Gabriel shook his head. “Emily, haven’t I made plain that I love you."

  Tears threatened to cascade down her cheeks. “It is not just a question of love."

  “No?"

  His hand tightened on hers, his thumb began slowly, sensuously stroking her palm, and the fiery spark in his eyes made her heart lurch with pain.

  “I will never make a proper viscountess. I--I would rather run than walk, I barely know how to properly enter a room or leave one. I would no doubt disgrace you at every turn. And besides, I much prefer the country to town.”

  “Maybe, but you've made me happier than any proper debutante or jaded maiden it has been my misfortune to be acquainted with in London or the rustic wolds of Gloucestershire." He glanced over his shoulder at the door, which he had decorously left ajar and eased forward in his chair. “Emily, I don't believe I'd be happy with a proper viscountess gracing my table, running my house or warming my bed."

  Emily's blood already felt heated from the caressing strokes of his thumb. So when Gabriel bent over to brush her mouth with a feathery kiss, she raised her face eagerly, hungrily, for his lips.

  He drew back, and when she moaned in disappointment, he smiled and caught her up in a crushing embrace. She returned his ardent kisses with wild abandon.

  He was easing her over onto the mattress when a heavy tread was heard coming down the hall.

  “You are the viscountess I want,” Gabriel said with smoldering eyes on her lips. He turned just in time to glare at Freddy coming through the bedroom door.

  ###

  After two days of being bedridden, Emily could stand it no longer. She was bored to cinders. Granted, she had loads of company, but aside from the twitch in her side, she felt fine and was heartily sick of being confined to bed. Doc Larson at last relented and allowed her to be placed on the chaise lounge by the window in her room. Still, she argued until she was nearly blue in the face before Gabriel finally put his foot down and decreed she'd do as the sawbones said--or else.

  She didn't know what "or else" meant and really was beyond caring. She'd had enough. Thus, on the fourth morning, when the maid went down to the kitchen to get a breakfast tray, Emily slipped from the massive four poster bed, dropped to the floor without making a sound, and padded across the carpeted floor in bare feet. Easing herself out the door into the hall, she managed to walk to her room undetected. There, she took several deep breaths to steady herself. Her side only pained her slightly, though she was surprised at how weak she was. Still, she was determined to go downstairs.

  Dressing herself posed some problems. After her ablutions, she donned fresh undergarments and then chose a green muslin gown that tied in the front. Her hair, she decided after brushing it, was beyond her capabilities and could simply hang down her back, unadorned.

  At the top of the stairs, she had a touch of vertigo but quickly put that down to hunger. Her diet over the past week had consisted of soup and porridge, and her mouth fairly watered at the thought of a substantial breakfast. Grabbing on to the banister, she slowly descended the stairs and had made it to the ground floor where Tom, who had been invited by Gabriel to stay at the Park while she recuperated, came rushing down the stairs after her.

  “What're you doing up, Emily. Thought the sawbones said you were to stay abed for another week." He was dressed for riding, pulling on his tan leather gloves.

  “Oh pooh, Doc Larson treats me like an invalid. Where are you off to, Tom?"

  “Town. Lindemann decided to call in the Bow Street Runners. Can't have you running around and getting shot again. Anyway, he was going himself. But when I offered to go in his stead, he took me up on it."

  “Emily." Gabriel's expression was anything but happy as he hurried down the stairs. “Why didn't your maid stop you?"

  “Do not blame Grace. I sent her off for my breakfast. And quit making a fuss. Ohh," she cried as he picked her up in his arms. “I refuse to return to that room."

  “You are not gallivanting around, either."

  “Good luck with that, Lindemann. None of her nannies could stop her. Even Aunt Esmeralda gave up," Tom said as he waved his crop in the air. “I'm off to Town. Should be back before nightfall."

  Emily, finding herself contented to be in Gabriel's arms, watched Tom stroll out the front door. “You really plan to bring the runners here?"

  “Yes, I do. Though I've little evidence to offer them, they at least can keep an eye on you better than the rest of us. Now, the question is, what to do with you in the meantime?"

  “I will not go back upstairs," she declared mutinously.

  “Very well, then it's the library. That way, I can keep an eye on you and make sure you have piece and quiet."

  As he swung her around in the direction of the library, Emily caught sight of Cecil at the top of the stairs, staring down at them. He was upset, she read it in his eyes. “Please, Gab, put me down," she whispered.

  Her tone of voice must have communicated to him that something was wrong, for he gently lowered her back to the floor, though he did not release his hold on her. She knew instantly the moment Gabriel saw Cecil, for his body stiffened and he drew her closer to him.

  Cecil seemed to shake himself before starting down the stairs. “What are you doing here, Cuz?" The laugh he gave held a nervous twinge. “I thought you were headed for town."

  “So I had planned. But at the last minute, Tom indicated he wanted to go. So I charged him with my errand."

  Cecil reached in his pocket and pulled out a snuff box, but after opening the lid with a practiced flip of his thumb, he stopped, seeming to absorb this bit of news.

  Emily, cocking her head to one side, stared at Gabriel's cousin for a moment. Something about his negligent demeanor didn't ring true. Then, Cecil's dark eyes met hers with a calculating gleam. She suddenly felt cold.

  “Tom!" she cried out, clutching Gabriel's sleeve. “Oh, Gab, he is going to kill Tom!"

  Gabriel turned in time to catch a fleeting look of panic light Cecil's eyes before he lowered his eye lids and concealed it. “By Jove, Cecil, guilt is written all over your face."

  With studied patience, Cecil took a pinch of snuff, inhaled it, and snapped the colorful cloisonné box shut. “Whatever are you babbling about, dear Cuz?" he drawled, replacing the box in the pocket of his jacket.

  “The game is up, Cecil. Ever since you set those thugs on me outside of my club in London, I've known you were plotting my demise."

  Cecil had himself well in ha
nd, for nary a muscle twitched as he studied Gabriel. “Prove it," he said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

  “I can't, nor do I intend to try. It is enough to know you are forced to flee to the continent."

  “And if I refuse to go?"

  “I'm putting the word about that you're drowning in the river tick. I've no doubt your creditors will convenience you, unless you prefer Newgate?"

  “My finances could always reverse themselves."

  “I think not. First, I will this day draw up papers describing the attacks on my life and Emily’s up until now and include this conversation."

  “'Tis your word against mine and this . . . ." Cecil eyed Emily with disgust. “This hoyden."

  “And ours!" called out Freddy.

  All heads turned to the drawing room door where the baron stood in the doorway with Ellison Trumbell peering over his shoulder.

  Cecil's gaze shifted between the four of them for a few tense moments. “It looks as if you've won, Cuz." He bestowed Emily with one more contemptuous look before turning on his heel.

  “You've one hour to pack your things and be gone," Gabriel called after him. “And take your sister with you," he added as an after thought.

  At the foot of the stairs, Cecil stopped and glared at them. “I've barely enough blunt to cover my own fair," he said with a bitter laugh.

  “That's of little difference to me," replied Gabriel.

  “Well, dear Deborah does have another option, though I dare say she may balk at accepting MacLeod's offer." With a mocking bow, Cecil continued his way up the stairs.

  “Told you he was a cold fish for a cousin," Freddy said over the sound of Cecil's soft tread up the stairs.

  “So you did." Gabriel gave Freddy a friendly slap on the back. “I'm in debt to both you and Ellison. You're timing couldn't have been better."

  “'Twas nothing," Freddy responded with a broad grin.

  “I say, Freddy," Ellison interrupted, “you were about to offer me your help, remember?"

  With his rotund chest puffed out, Freddy beamed. “Anything, old man."

  “You've an uncommon finesse, fending off the fair sex. I mean, you managed to evade Deborah's trap. Well, I can't join my friends with Sylvia's waiting to get her claws into me."

  “Nothing to it," replied Freddy. “Told them I wasn't in the market. Plan to stay single. Ain't that right, Gab?" Freddy concluded. Looking about him, he was the first to spot Jane standing quietly on the stairs. Her face was deathly pale, contrasting with the two red flags burning her cheeks. Jane's eyes, however, reflected pain, not embarrassment.

  “Oh, I say, er, Jane," stammered Freddy. “Didn't mean anything by that. In fact, didn't mean any of it.”

  Mustering her dignity, Jane managed a small smile. “There is no need for you to apologize to me, my lord. I merely wanted to inform my host that I will be returning home tomorrow."

  Staring up at Jane's rigid form, Emily felt the other woman's hurt. “Please do not leave yet. I am going to Pendleton Grange today," she quickly improvised. “Come stay with me?"

  “Thank you, but no," was Miss Taber's firm reply before she excused herself to oversee the packing of her trunks.

  Freddy stood speechless, his round eyes watching the rigid back of the small retreating figure.

  Impulsively, Emily reached out and grabbed the baron's sleeve. “Freddy, do something."

  “Stay out of this, Em," Gabriel warned, pulling Emily closer to his side.

  Staring at the empty space where Jane had disappeared up the stairs, Freddy replied, “Don't know what to do."

  “I say, is something wrong?" asked Ellison. The others ignored him as Gabriel scooped Emily up in his arms and carried her, protesting, to the library.

  “Put me down, my lord. I cannot let Jane leave. Freddy, Freddy," Emily cried out in desperation. “Stop her from leaving."

  Freddy looked at her for a moment and his brow cleared. “I can, can’t I?" he said. Then, putting action to words, he bounded up the stairs two at a time.

  “That's the ticket, Freddy," Emily called after him.

  “Em, I'm warning you."

  “Go after her," Emily called over Gabriel's voice.

  “I say," Ellison said, addressing Emily as Gabriel advanced toward the library. “Did I miss something?"

  Emily only had time to give him a quizzical look over Gabriel’s shoulder as he marched in to the library.

  *** Chapter 14 ***

  Emily was on pins and needles for the rest of the day. Gabriel had deposited her on the sofa in the library and surrounded her with mounds of cushions before tearing off after Tom with Freddy, Ellison and Chesterfield hard on his heels.

  Shortly thereafter, a timid knock heralded Jane Taber's entrance. Wearing a beatific smile, Jane glided over to where Emily was seated on the couch to grab her hands.

  “Oh, Emily, I am so very happy, and it is all because you are such a dear."

  Emily assumed from the young's woman's high praise that the baron had come up to scratch. “Freddy proposed to you!" she cried excitedly, sharing her friend's happiness.

  “Yes," Jane breathed ecstatically. “Can you believe he actually cares for me?"

  Emily laughed at Jane's query. “It was obvious to all but you and Freddy, Jane. Does this mean that you will not be leaving tomorrow?"

  “As to that, I do not precisely know. You see, Freddy had only the briefest moments to...er, that is, he said we would discuss that later after he returned," Jane stammered, blushing most becomingly. “He had to leave with the Viscount on a most urgent matter. Have you any notion of what he meant?"

  Emily was more than willing to fill Jane in on the morning's events. Sharing Emily's concern for her brother, Jane reassured Emily that the gentlemen would reach Tom in time to warn him of the danger. While Jane's optimism went a fair way in relieving Emily's mind, she could not help but be anxious, nonetheless.

  Lady Spivey arrived soon after Jane left, having decided to keep the invalid company.

  “As a viscountess, Emily dear, I hope you know you can take your lead from me and learn to do your Christian duty, visiting the sick and like."

  “Yes, Aunt Esmeralda."

  Sitting beside Emily, Lady Spivey sipped a suspicious looking brew from a tea cup. “I must tell you that this is one of the oddest house parties I have attended."

  “Yes, Aunt Esmeralda."

  “Can you imagine, Emily dear, that there is not a man about the house? Oh, there is Pickering, of course, and other male staff members, but the rest, the gentlemen, have all taken off with nary a word. I must say Lindemann is a peculiar host."

  “Yes, Aunt Esmeralda."

  “Do not misunderstand me, my dear. He appears quite devoted to you, and I am sure he is very kind."

  “Yes, Aunt Esmeralda."

  “But I suppose he is allowed his oddities. He is, after all, a viscount."

  “Yes, Aunt Esmeralda."

  “Actually, Emily, I begin to think you will make an excellent viscountess for Lindemann. Not many women are willing to tolerate such strange goings-on," Lady Spivey said with a meaningful look. “You, on the other hand, seem to thrive when things are at sixes and sevens."

  “Yes, Aunt Esmeralda."

  Fortunately, Jane and Prudence rescued Emily from her aunt's ramblings when they appeared with Pickering who carried a loaded tea try for a luncheon. After lunch, Mrs. Hopkins, acting the mother hen, insisted Emily rest for the afternoon. For once, Emily was grateful to the redoubtable housekeeper, who ousted Lady Spivey and the other two girls with a none-too-subtle hint about his lordship's orders that Emily rest. She had found all her company fatiguing and, comfortably burrowing among the pillows, wanted some solitude to think.

  Lady Spivey had surprised Emily, saying she'd make the Viscount a good spouse. More than anything in the world, Emily wanted to believe her aunt. But she was not a social butterfly and doubted Gabriel would be content to spend most of the year in the country. A
s a former officer under Wellington's command, Gabriel had been a leader of men, and his dress and demeanor bespoke of social polish and accomplishments that were much sought after in the tonnish salons of London. If only life weren't so complicated, she mused drowsily.

  A commotion at the front door awoke her from a fitful sleep, and moments later, the library door was flung open by a disheveled Tom. Emily tried to rise but her stiff, aching side forced her to lie back on the cushions. She could not help but notice his exultant expression.

  “Oh, Tom! Thank heaven Gabriel found you in time."

  “Came upon me just before I was getting ready to put a bullet through the blackguard's heart," her brother announced jubilantly.

  “You were attacked!" Emily cried out in dismay.

  “It was the greatest thing, Em," he said, coming to stand over her. “I had a feeling someone was dogging my heels. So, I reined in Charger to a dawdle, and sure enough, the bloke popped his barker at me."

  “Oh, Tom!"

  “That ain't the half of it, Em." He was nearly dancing with excitement. “I swung my horse around, and there he was in the trees, fiddling with his gun, trying to reload it. I saw my chance, and when he eyed me coming, the coward hightailed it off like a scared rabbit. His old slug was nothing for Charger, though, and in no time I had him pinned to the ground with my pistol drawn. Planned to put a period to his miserable existence then and there, but Lindemann and the others rode up and stopped me," he concluded on a note of regret.

  “Did Gabriel turn him over to the runners?"

  Tom shook his head as a cagey smile lit his face. “Nothing so paltry as that. We put our noggins together and came up with hauling his carcass to Portsmouth. The King’s fleet's always in need of sailors, you know."

  “You had him impressed?" Emily had heard stories of young men being snatched from the streets by the impressment gangs, never to be seen or heard from again. His Majesty's Navy, much like the sea, extracted a costly toll on the lives of those who sailed the oceans.

  “Bang up notion, huh?" Her brother's grin broadened. “Everyone drew straws and Chesterfield won the day. He's escorting your assailant to the docks in Portsmouth as we speak."