Tanya Anne Crosby

by The Impostor's Kiss

  He did?

  Chloe’s eyes must have revealed her doubt.

  “It’s true,” Fiona insisted with a smile. “In fact, you should feel quite special, my dear. My son has gone through quite a lot of trouble to impress you.”

  Chloe didn’t know how to respond. She couldn’t imagine Lord Lindale worrying to impress anyone. And she had been cursing him; she felt both duly chastised and a little disarmed by the revelation. She blinked. “Where is he?” Her voice sounded entirely too breathless even to her own ears.

  “Never you mind,” Lady Fiona snapped pleasantly. “You’ll need a pelisse,” she added matter-of-factly. “It’s quite nippy outdoors.”

  Chloe’s heart beat erratically as she descended the staircase. She knew everyone was watching and she hoped she wouldn’t trip over her dress.

  “Come, my dear,” she commanded of Chloe, crooking a finger at her when Chloe hesitated.

  Chloe’s cheeks warmed under so much scrutiny. She felt a little as though she were on the fringes of a fairy tale as she completed the descent down the stairs.

  At last she stood before Lady Fiona. With a critical eye, Lady Fiona assessed her gown. It was hardly anything worth fussing over, but Aggie had pressed it perfectly and the airy fabric hung like whispers upon her slim figure. Delicate ivory lace spilled from her cuffs and peeked from beneath the hem. The blue of the gown was still as vivid as it had been when new. It was the finest dress Chloe owned. It was the best she could do. She had a sudden fear that Lady Fiona would find her lacking.

  “Yes, I think this will do quite nicely,” Lady Fiona said, and lifted her hand from her lap to reveal a glistening choker. She raised it for Chloe’s inspection. Chloe gasped at the sight of it. It was a dazzling silver, with hundreds of tiny, winking diamonds and a few well-placed sapphires. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before—certainly like nothing she’d ever worn. In fact, she didn’t own a single piece of jewelry, save for the ring her mother had given her.

  Lady Fiona held the choker out to her. “Oh!” Chloe said with an embarrassed gasp. “I mustn’t—you shouldn’t!”

  “Rubble!” Lady Fiona said firmly. “It was a gift to me from Ian’s father and I would dearly love to share it with you, my dear. It will match quite nicely with your lovely dress.”

  Chloe’s heart swelled with gratitude over Fiona’s sweet compliment.

  “It was a gift from Lord Lindale’s father?” she asked in awe. How very generous of Lady Fiona to share it. Chloe hadn’t the first clue what to say in response. Lady Fiona rarely spoke of her late husband. She wanted to know more, though she daren’t pry.

  Lady Fiona’s eyes betrayed a shimmer of moisture. “Yes, dear. He gave this to me the night he asked my father for my hand in marriage.”

  Chloe furrowed her brows. She thought Ian’s father had been a merchant. How could he have possibly afforded such an extravagant gift? Nor had she realized he’d asked for Lady Fiona’s hand in marriage. Chloe could have sworn her father had said the two had eloped.

  “You cannot harm it. Go on, take it,” Lady Fiona urged her.

  Chloe reached to take it from Lady Fiona’s hands and Aggie came scurrying out from the parlor at once. “I’ll help!” she exclaimed excitedly.

  “Oh, thank you, dear,” Fiona said to Aggie, smiling at the girl. “I’m afraid I just cannot manage from this infernal chair!”

  “It’s absolutely beautiful,” Chloe said in disbelief, as Aggie lifted it before her and placed it about her throat, “Thank you!” She was enormously confused by the recent turn of events. In the space of a single day, nothing seemed the same.

  How could she suddenly feel so thrilled to dine with a man who only yesterday she’d claimed to despise?

  What had changed since then?

  And when?

  “You look positively radiant,” Fiona said warmly when Aggie stepped away. She glanced at the timepiece that lay in her lap, and exclaimed, “Goodness! It’s five after the hour! You must hie away.”

  Chloe blinked. To where?

  “Go on now,” Lady Fiona urged her, waving a hand toward the door where Edward was waiting. He turned to retrieve a snow-white pelisse from the coatrack and held it out for her.

  “Well, go on,” Fiona commanded her.

  Chloe felt her feet move without direction.

  Feeling suddenly numb, as though it were all happening in a dream, she allowed Edward to settle the pelisse over her shoulders. Without a word, he opened the front door. Chloe stepped outside to find a coach at the ready. Afraid to turn about for fear that everyone was staring at her, she hurriedly climbed into the carriage, half expecting to find Ian waiting inside.

  He wasn’t there.

  The carriage was empty, save for a single red rose that lay upon the facing seat.

  Chloe didn’t touch it. She didn’t dare. It didn’t seem possible it could be for her.

  Her hands sought the choker at her neck. It felt incredibly heavy and wickedly beautiful. Good Lord, she felt beautiful simply wearing it—though merely one of its gems would feed a family for years. Guilt pricked at her for wearing it. It was more than she could bear. This was not her life, nor did she wish it to be. So why did it feel so…titillating?

  If this was Lindale’s idea of a joke, she would never forgive him.

  Remembering the kiss, her hands unconsciously went to her lips. God help her, the mere memory shouldn’t make her belly flutter, but it did.

  Would he kiss her tonight?

  He wouldn’t dare do it again—he’d promised—or had he? She had the sudden overwhelming desire to burst from the carriage.

  Too late. The vehicle pitched into movement and lumbered down the long drive.

  For better or worse, Chloe was along for the ride.

  Chapter Ten

  Hoping for some insight into his brother’s mind, Merrick listened quietly while the men bantered among themselves.

  There was an easy camaraderie between them and an optimism that didn’t match their words. They spoke of death and hunger and yet ribbed each other with obvious good humor. One thing became clear: poor as these men might be, they were contented. Merrick envied them their easy attitudes and fellowship. All his life he’d enjoyed neither. He wondered how Ian had become involved with them.

  “Tell me again why we’re robbin’ your own bloody coach,” one man asked.

  “To divert suspicion, dolt,” Rusty replied in Merrick’s stead.

  But Merrick hadn’t even told Rusty the entire truth. He needed a way to introduce the ring to his mother without casting undue suspicion upon himself. He couldn’t very well just hand the ring to her. He hoped Fiona would feel alarmed by its presence. Merrick wanted her to call upon his father, though Ryo would intercept the message, he knew.

  In fact, he was counting on it.

  For this plan to work, Ryo had to be the one to receive the ring from his mother. As soon as Ryo realized he had the wrong brother, he would return. It might be a long shot, but it was the only thing Merrick knew to do without revealing himself.

  He also intended to prove to Chloe that Ian’s crusade was not entirely noble, nor was it the only option his brother had available to him.

  Lastly, he’d told his mother about meeting Chloe for dinner and knew she would adorn Chloe appropriately. Whatever booty he acquired tonight, he planned to give to these men and their families. Later, he would see that the value of the item was replaced. In the meantime, these men required food on their tables and he didn’t know any quicker way to achieve that goal. It was apparent that he wouldn’t gain any funds from Edward—or from his mother, for that matter. Merrick’s pockets were empty and the clock was ticking.

  A vision of Rusty’s three little daughters came to mind, dirty faces and shy smiles. What must it feel like to be part of a close family, to know your children intimately, to crawl into bed each night and hold your wife close?

  He thought of Chloe and his loins tightened.

  He cou
ldn’t imagine her retiring to her own chamber night after night…couldn’t imagine wanting her to. There had been no warmth between his parents. In fact, it seemed more oft than not that neither knew the other existed. With a sudden sense of conviction, he decided he didn’t want that for himself. He wanted to lay every night near his wife, holding her, caressing her. Close on the heels of that thought came a stupefying revelation. Two days ago he hadn’t even wanted a wife…now he wanted Chloe.

  He’d always gotten everything he’d ever desired, but for the first time in his life he didn’t have the influence of his name and his money at his back. If he wanted Chloe, he was going to have to win her. Whatever Ian had done hadn’t seemed to impress Chloe. She was a strong woman who knew what she believed in and what she believed was that Ian was a cad and a rogue. Instead of swooning over him, she’d tossed down her gauntlet.

  Merrick eagerly accepted the challenge.

  “We aren’t going to hurt ’er, are we, Hawk?”

  They were talking about Chloe—again. Every man present had objected when they’d discovered who was to be the occupant of the carriage.

  “Of course not,” he reassured them.

  “That’s why we’ve taken the bullets out of our pistols,” Rusty reminded them.

  “And she woon’t knoo who we are?” asked another.

  “Not unless you open your bloody mouth, Angus,” answered Rusty.

  Their concern was beginning to chafe Merrick; it seemed they were all a little too solicitous…almost as though they were all enamored of her.

  But he couldn’t very well blame them.

  He’d been enamored with Chloe from the moment he’d set eyes upon her.

  “She’s got a guid heart, that one,” commented Angus.

  “Aye,” agreed another, “when my son was six, she came tae stitch his head after ’e fell from the roof, and refused payment.”

  “Aye, well, she can tend me and mine anyday,” chimed Angus.

  Christ on a pony, Merrick wouldn’t mind hearing these tales—in fact, he wanted to hear them—but the tone of their voices as they discussed Chloe made him feel entirely too possessive.

  Not to mention that he felt acutely out of place among these men; his life was nothing like the one they described. “What the devil was your six-year-old doing on the roof?” he asked the man.

  “Fixing a leak,” the man answered, then added matter-of-factly, “Mary, my wife, would have helped, but she was already dead.”

  “And he’d hae done it himself,” quipped Angus. “But, fat bastard that ’e is, he’d hae caved the roof.”

  The men all laughed and Merrick felt instantly contrite for his snappish tone. It was obvious these people lived a difficult life.

  In her way, Chloe tried to aid them. So did Ian, it seemed. But there must be another way.

  For the robbery, they’d chosen a spot on Glen Abbey Manor’s parkland that was shielded by trees on every side. The road curved sharply through the grove. He hoped the carriage was traveling slowly, because he didn’t want anyone to be hurt—most assuredly not Chloe.

  Tonight there were five men aside from himself, not six. Donald Lowson had remained with his wife while she gave birth to their firstborn child.

  When he’d met these men, they’d all been nothing more than common, faceless thieves. Now they were men with lives and children and wives. It was obvious to Merrick that they held Ian in high esteem and would follow him blindly. Somehow it didn’t seem right that he knew they would die for him and he didn’t even know their names.

  Contemplating that fact, he watched the road for some sign of the approaching vehicle, uncertain how to proceed. It was, after all, his first robbery.

  His heart flipped against his ribs when he spied the carriage coming about the bend in the road. Nerves, he told himself. But he knew it was something more.

  The thought of seeing her tonight, dressed to please him, made his pulse burn like fire through his veins.

  He alerted the men.

  They merely gave him curious glances, but sat like warts on a frog, staring at him.

  “Well, let’s go get it,” he said.

  Still they sat, tilting their heads at him, regarding him with obvious confusion. He had the sense that they were waiting for him to do something, but for the life of Merrick, he didn’t know what that might be.

  The carriage was almost upon them.

  Blast it all. If they didn’t catch the vehicle within the grove, it would be much too risky to stop it out in the open field.

  “Well?” prompted Rusty. “Aren’t ye going to make the call?”

  Merrick furrowed his brow. He hadn’t a clue what the man was talking about. “Call?”

  Rusty raised both brows. “The birdcall—ye told us never to act unless ye gave it.”

  The memory came back to Merrick in a rush and another piece of the puzzle fell into place—the saker’s call. Christ. He had heard it. It hadn’t been simply a figment of his imagination.

  Ryo.

  It must have been Ryo who’d introduced the saker to Ian. As his father’s trusted servant, it made sense that Ryo would be their point of contact.

  The men were staring…waiting.

  “Right,” Merrick said, and added, more to himself than to his men, “Never act without the birdcall.” He put his hands together and attempted an imitation of the saker. His men responded at once, flying toward the road to block the vehicle’s path. They nearly trampled him in their haste.

  Merrick was the last to react.

  Chloe was so deep in thought and so entranced by the rose left lying upon the seat across from her that she didn’t even realize they’d come to a halt until the door burst open.

  She gave a startled little gasp at the sight of him.

  It was Hawk.

  For an instant she could only gape. So long she’d wanted to meet him…and here he was, at last…standing before her…robbing her.

  The realization made her wince.

  Her hand went to her throat, dreading what was to come. Lady Fiona had entrusted her with the precious necklace—God knew Chloe shouldn’t have accepted. Now what was she going to say when she faced Lady Fiona?

  Without a word he offered her his hand, obviously wanting her to come out from the carriage. Realizing it was futile to resist, she gave him her hand and let him assist her, all the while cursing herself for accepting the loan of Lady Fiona’s jewels.

  As she alighted from the carriage, she felt a dizzying mixture of disappointment and excitement. This was, after all, the moment she’d been anticipating…to be able to tell Hawk in person how much she admired him, how great he was to take on this crusade in the name of the poor. In fact, if she could, she would join his cause.

  But Lady Fiona had become dear to her heart. She didn’t wish to disappoint her. She just couldn’t allow Hawk to take the necklace.

  Dressed in black from head to his heels, his face concealed by a black hooded mask, he seemed to tower over her bigger than life. Behind the mask, only the curve of his lips and his eyes were visible, but it was enough to see that he was somehow pleased by the sight of her—or rather, by the sight of her necklace.

  Chloe bemoaned her luck.

  “Tsk, tsk. These are treacherous times,” he advised her ominously when she stood before him. “It isn’t wise for a beautiful young lady to travel alone at night.”

  Embarrassed by his veiled compliment, Chloe averted her gaze. Though she wasn’t traveling precisely—she was still on the property. She wanted him to comprehend the risk he was taking by coming here tonight. Surely he must already realize. She gave him a meaningful look, brows arched and countered, “Neither is it wise to trespass upon private property. These are Lord Lindale’s parklands, sir.”

  “Am I trespassing?” He sounded completely unremorseful. He turned to his men. “Gentlemen, it seems we are trespassing.”

  The men all cackled at that.

  “Yes,” Chloe assured him, trying to
impress upon him the risk they were taking, “you are.” If she didn’t arrive soon, she was afraid Lord Lindale would come searching for her and that would hardly be beneficial for anyone involved. “In fact, were I you,” she advised him, “I would leave before anyone discovers you are here.”

  “If you were me?” he said, looking far too amused by her warning. “If she were me,” he repeated to his men, as though they were not standing directly atop them. His lips curved a little arrogantly.

  Chloe had to admit that it rankled just a bit. She was, after all, merely trying to save him from a stint in gaol. She narrowed her gaze at him.

  He remarked, and quite flippantly, “I suppose, then, if I must go, I shall simply have to take you with me.”

  Chloe’s eyes went wide. “Surely you can’t mean to ransom me!” He’d never done such a thing before.

  He nodded. “If I must, I must.”

  “That would gain you absolutely nothing!” Chloe assured him. She shook her head adamantly. “I’m afraid no one would pay for my return.”

  “What a pity,” he told her and forced a sigh. “Then I would simply have to keep you.”

  “Sir!” she objected. “You cannot! I have duties and responsibilities!”

  He sighed again. “Then I suppose I must make do with the lovely jewels adorning your beautiful throat. May I say they look absolutely ravishing tonight.” But he wasn’t looking at her jewels, she realized. He was looking into her eyes. Her heart skipped its normal beat.

  Was he flirting with her?

  Well, of course he was flirting with her, she realized. He flirted with every woman he robbed—old and young, beautiful and hideous alike.

  At last, his eyes moved to her throat, or maybe her bodice—Chloe wasn’t certain. Her hand fluttered nervously to her throat and then fell to her breast, unsure what to conceal from his much too forward gaze.

  “Exquisite,” he commented, his voice low and raspy. Chloe was suddenly afraid to look at him. She averted her gaze, staring uncomfortably at his feet…expensive boots…freshly polished. Evidently he retained some of the bounty for himself.