Quick, Amanda

by Reckless (lit)

"You expect me to pay you to help me bring the villain to justice?" she demanded.

  "Why not? When you send a man out on a quest, it is only fair to reward him."

  "You should be ashamed of yourself," she shot back. "This is a matter of justice and honor. It is not as though I am asking you to help me find a lost treasure or a cache of jewels."

  "Justice and honor are commodities that can be bought and sold just as freely as jewels and gold. I see no reason why I should not be paid for finding them."

  She drew a breath. "You are very cynical, my lord."

  "I am very practical, madam."

  "I see. Very well. If you prefer to do business as a common tradesman rather than as a chivalrous knight, so be it." Her chin came up proudly. "What is the cost of your services?"

  "As I do not yet know how much trouble this particular quest will cause me, I cannot set the price in advance. I must wait until the task is completed," Gabriel said.

  After weeks of growing fascination with this outrageous female, he was feeling well satisfied with himself at last. He had finally gained the upper hand. A useful advantage, he thought. He would certainly need it, judging by what he had learned of her thus far.

  "You will not name your price in advance? That's ridiculous. What if I cannot afford your fee?" she said.

  "Never fear. You will be able to afford my price. The question is whether or not you will be honorable enough to pay it. Can I trust you to be true to your word, madam, or will you continue to play your little games?"

  She was incensed. "How dare you question my honor, Wylde?"

  "You certainly have not hesitated to question mine. You went so far as to call me a coward a few minutes ago."

  "That's different," she sputtered.

  "Is it? Men have been known to kill each other for less insult. But I am prepared to let bygones be bygones."

  "How very decent of you," she got out in a choked voice.

  "Do we have a bargain, my Veiled Lady?"

  "Yes," she said instantly. "But first you must recover The Knight and the Sorcerer. I seriously doubt that you will be able to do so."

  "I appreciate your confidence in my knightly prowess."

  "That highwayman will be miles away by now with my manuscript." She paused. "Good heavens, I just realized something."

  "What's that?"

  "Remember the curse at the end of the book?"

  "What about it?" Gabriel asked.

  "Well, if I recall correctly, it began with the statement that whoever took the book would be set upon by thieves and murderers. We were definitely set upon by a thief, my lord."

  "Who fortunately did not turn into a murderer, thanks to my clever handling of the situation."

  "You mean thanks to your ineptitude," she grumbled.

  "Whatever you say, madam. In the meantime, you and I must seal our pact." Gabriel drew the stallion to a halt and held out his hand.

  The Veiled Lady hesitated and then reluctantly put out her own gloved hand. "Are you really going to think about accepting my quest?"

  "Rest assured, I am going to think about little else until I see you again."

  "Thank you, my lord," she said stiffly. "If you are indeed serious, you cannot know how much this means to me."

  "Perhaps you should demonstrate the extent of your gratitude." Gabriel's fingers closed around hers.

  Instead of clasping her hand in a ritual handshake, however, he used his grip to pull her close. Before she realized his intent, he lifted the veil of her hat, exposing her startled features to the pale glow of the moon.

  The lady gasped and then froze in stunned shock.

  Gabriel raked the upturned face of his sweet tormentor with the fierce curiosity that had been burning within him for weeks. The need to know her identity had become as powerful a force as any physical desire. It had been growing steadily since he had opened the first letter from her.

  One glance at the elegant handwriting and he had not needed the cryptic signature of the Veiled Lady to recognize that he was dealing with a female. And a very reckless, impulsive one at that. Which was why he had bided his time, allowing her to make all the initial moves.

  Gabriel took pride in the iron control he had become skilled at exerting over his own passions during the past eight years. He had learned his lessons the hard way, but he had learned them well. He was no longer the naive, idealistic man he had been in his youth.

  It had taken all of his control to restrain himself during the past two months, however. It seemed to him that the Veiled Lady had been deliberately attempting to drive him mad. She had very nearly succeeded. He had become obsessed with discovering her identity.

  He had pored over the handful of tantalizing letters he had received from her as intently as he had ever studied any of his precious medieval manuscripts. The only certainty he had been able to glean from them was the knowledge that the Veiled Lady was as well versed in chivalric lore as he was.

  Her uncanny ability to predict his taste in books had almost persuaded Gabriel that he must have met her at some time in the past.

  But tonight as he looked at her in the glow of the moon, he realized that she was a stranger. She was a woman of mystery, as enthralling as the rare, exotic dark pearls that were found in the secret lagoons of the South Seas.

  Her skin was the color of rich cream in the silvery light. She stared up at him, her soft, full lips parted in startled surprise. He had a glimpse of a bold, aristocratic little nose, fine cheekbones, and huge, astonished eyes. He wished that he could see the color of those eyes.

  She was a striking woman, not merely a pretty one. The strong lines of her nose and chin saved her from the kind of weak, passive beauty that Gabriel associated with weak, passive females. He liked the feel of her, he realized. She was small and sleek and shimmering with feminine energy.

  At Nash's cottage he had been able to see the color of her hair. Drawn back in a neat chignon beneath her veiled hat, the glossy dark stuff appeared a deep brown that was almost black. The candlelight had revealed intense dark red highlights in it. Gabriel had experienced an almost overpowering need to see those tresses loose around her shoulders.

  He could not quite believe he finally had his hands on his Veiled Lady. As he gazed down at her, all the strong emotions she had aroused in him crystallized into a white-hot desire. He wanted her.

  Even as anger began to replace the astonished shock on her face, Gabriel bent his head and took her mouth.

  In the beginning he did not ask for a response. The kiss was hard and commanding in retribution for all the trouble she had caused him. "Then her lips trembled and he felt the shiver of fear that went through her entire body.

  Gabriel hesitated for an instant, nonplussed by her panicky reaction to his kiss. She was not a child. The chit appeared to be in her early twenties and she had been deliberately challenging him. Furthermore, she had apparently been one of Neil Baxter's paramours. Baxter had been a master at seduction. Even Honora Ralston, Gabriel's fiancée in the South Seas, had succumbed to Baxter's lures and lies.

  But whatever else she was, it was immediately obvious the mysterious Veiled Lady was not the accomplished flirt he had assumed from the start. She had goaded him into kissing her, yet she seemed completely disconcerted by the response she had drawn.

  Gabriel's curiosity, already straining at the leash, broke free of the last vestiges of his self-control. He suddenly needed to know if he could make her respond to him.

  He softened the kiss, sliding the edge of his tongue along her lower lip, urging her to open her mouth. He wanted to taste her more than he had wanted anything in a very long time.

  He knew the instant the feminine fear in her dissolved beneath a wave of desire. The Veiled Lady made an achingly sweet, soft sound against his mouth. Gabriel swallowed up the tremulous cry as if he were a starving man being offered food. He immediately craved more.

  A deep satisfaction flared in him as he felt the undeniable stirring within her. She
trembled. Her free hand was on his shoulder now, clutching at the heavy wool of his greatcoat. He felt her lean forward as if she wanted to be closer to him.

  The hint of passion in his Veiled Lady sent a shudder of heightened desire through Gabriel. His own body was throbbing with an urgent need to possess her. He had definitely been too long without a woman. His arm tightened around her.

  "My lord?" She sounded dazed.

  "There is a chill in the night air," Gabriel muttered hoarsely against her throat. "But I vow that when I lay you down on the ground over there in the woods, you will soon be warm enough. I shall use my coat to make a bed for us, my Veiled Lady."

  In the blink of an eye the spell was broken. The Veiled Lady shuddered as if she had been burned. Suddenly she was pushing at him, trying to wrench herself free of his grasp.

  Gabriel fought a battle with his clamoring senses and won. He reluctantly released the lady. With a muffled exclamation, she sat back, grabbed at her veil with fumbling fingers, and lowered it hastily. He could hear her unsteady breathing. The knowledge that her nerves and passions were unsettled gave him some satisfaction.

  "You had no right to do that, sir," she whispered in almost inaudible tones. "That was most unchivalrous. How could you be so ungallant? I thought you an honorable man."

  Gabriel smiled. "You seem to have acquired some very odd notions of my sense of chivalry based on your reading of The Quest. It goes to show the critics are right, I suppose. Young ladies should be prevented from reading tales of that sort. Their emotional natures are too easily influenced."

  "Rubbish. You are deliberately trying to provoke me." The strength was returning rapidly to her voice now. This was not a woman who was easily overset.

  "You have been deliberately provoking me for the past several weeks," he reminded her. "I have already told you that I'm extremely annoyed with you, madam."

  "You do not understand," she wailed. "I was trying to capture your interest, not make you angry. I thought you would enjoy the adventure of it all. It was the sort of mystery the hero of your book would have enjoyed."

  "The hero of The Quest is a much younger man than I am," Gabriel said. "He still has a decidedly unhealthy amount of knightly idealism and youthful naivete."

  "Well, I like him that way," the Veiled Lady flung back. "He is much nicer than you are, that is for certain. Oh, never mind. It has all gone wrong. I regret I ever embarked on this stupid venture. What a disaster it has been. A complete and utter waste of time. I do not even have The Knight and the Sorcerer to show for all my efforts."

  "The next time I see you," Gabriel said softly, "I shall return your manuscript and give you my decision concerning your quest."

  The Veiled Lady urged her mare away from Gabriel's stallion. "You do not know who I am. You will not be able to find me."

  "I shall find you." He knew even as he spoke the words that he was making a vow to himself and to her. Tonight's venture had done nothing to satisfy his curiosity about the Veiled Lady. Indeed, it had only whetted his appetite. He had never met a woman like her and he knew now that he would not be content until he had possessed her. "It is you who began this business, madam, but be assured that I am the one who will end it."

  "I am convinced you have already ended it," she said bleakly. "I must tell you again that you are a grave disappointment thus far, my lord."

  "I am, of course, stricken to hear that."

  "It is not amusing, damn you." The Veiled Lady struggled to calm her mare. The beast was reacting nervously to the emotion in her rider's voice. "I do not know why I ever started this."

  "Neither do I," Gabriel said. "Why don't you try explaining it to me?"

  "I thought you were another sort of man altogether," the Veiled Lady said accusingly. "I thought you were a true knight who understood about things like quests. You may recall that when I first wrote to you, I mentioned the possibility of an important venture. But you were completely unresponsive to my initial inquiries."

  "Hardly surprising, considering all I had were a couple of cryptic letters from an unknown woman who asked me if I wanted to play knight-errant. When I ignored those, I found myself dueling with the lady for every medieval romance I wished to acquire. The entire experience was extremely irritating."

  "I told you, I wanted to create a mystery that you would wish to solve."

  "You achieved your goal, madam. But the mystery is still not entirely solved, even though I have seen your face. I don't know your name."

  "And you are never going to discover it," she assured him. "I am finished with this nonsense. I shall pursue my quest by myself. I find I do not need or want your help, after all. Good night, my lord. I apologize for bringing you out at midnight on a fool's errand."

  The Veiled Lady abruptly gave a signal to her mare. The horse leaped forward at full gallop and tore off down the moonlit lane.

  Gabriel waited a moment before following at a more sedate pace. He could hear the mare's hoofbeats pounding away in the distance, but he made no effort to catch up to his quarry. He did not want to overtake her, but merely keep track of her until she was safely home. He had a fairly good notion now of where she was going.

  A few minutes later he rounded a bend in the lane and saw that his hunch was correct. He sat watching from the shadows as the Veiled Lady and her mare turned into the drive of the massive country house belonging to Lord and Lady Amesbury.

  From the number of carriages in the lane, it was apparent the Amesburys were holding one of their famous house parties this weekend. Music and light poured from the open windows of the great house. Lady Amesbury never invited less than a hundred guests to her affairs.

  It was obvious his Veiled Lady had slipped unseen away from the ball to keep her midnight rendezvous. It would have been easy enough to do in that crowd, Gabriel thought. Most of the guests were no doubt roaring drunk by now. She would not be missed.

  It was clear that there was no simple way to learn the identity of the Veiled Lady by finding out who had attended the ball tonight, Gabriel realized. The guest list would include a number of the important people of the ton and most of the local gentry.

  Gabriel was not disappointed. There were other ways of learning the name of the lady. But first he had to attend to the small matter of recovering The Knight and the Sorcerer. He turned his stallion around and cantered back up the lane.

  Chapter 4

  Twenty minutes later he brought the stallion to a halt in the trees near Nash's cottage. He was not surprised to see that a light still burned in the window.

  He secured the stallion to a branch and made his way through the woods to the small barn at the rear of the cottage. When he opened the barn door, a horse whickered softly in the darkness. He saw the vague outline of an equine head as it turned toward him.

  "Easy, lad." Gabriel left the door open so that a shaft of moonlight lit the interior of the barn. He walked over to the stall. The horse blew softly and thrust its head out over the gate.

  "You've had a busy night of it, haven't you?" Gabriel took off his glove and stroked the horse's damp neck and shoulder. "You're still warm from that last gallop. How do you like being a highwayman's nag? Lots of excitement in the job, I imagine."

  Gabriel gave the animal's neck a last pat and then made his way back out of the barn. As he walked toward the rear door of the cottage, he removed the pistol from the pocket of his coat.

  He was mildly surprised to find the door unbarred. The highwayman had evidently been in a hurry when he had returned from his business on the road. Gabriel opened the door and stepped into the kitchen.

  Mrs. Stiles was at the sink. She whirled around in shock at the sound of the door. Her eyes widened in recognition and then her mouth opened on a scream.

  "Hush. Not a word, if you please, Mrs. Stiles." Gabriel did not bother to point the pistol at her. He held it quietly at his side. "I merely wish a few words with your master. You needn't bother with tea. I will not be staying long."

 
Mrs. Stiles's lips snapped shut. "I knew no good would come of this mad scheme. Told him so meself."

  "Yes. Well, now I am going to tell him the same thing. We shall see if my advice makes a more lasting impression."

  Mrs. Stiles gave him a beseeching look. "Ye won't have the master arrested, will ye? He only did it on account of he needs the money and he cannot bear to part with those books of his. If they send him to prison, I don't know what I'll do. Work is hard to come by in these parts. Mr. Nash don't always pay me my wages, but there's plenty to eat and he lets me take some home to me family."

  "Do not concern yourself, Mrs. Stiles. I have no intention of putting you out of work. Is Nash still in the parlor?"

  "Yes, sir." Mrs. Stiles's hands twisted in the folds of her apron. "Are you certain you don't plan to have him arrested?"

  "Reasonably certain. I understand Mr. Nash's dilemma and I sympathize. Still, I cannot allow him to get away with his little scheme in this instance. The lady was most upset."

  Mrs. Stiles sighed. "I cannot see why the lot of ye bookish types set so much store by them old manuscripts and such. Nothin' but useless trash, if ye ask me. Waste of time readin' and collectin' them dirty things."

  "The desire to collect old books is difficult to explain," Gabriel admitted. "I suspect it is an affliction of sorts."

  "Too bad there ain't a remedy."

  "Perhaps. On the other hand, it is not an unpleasant ailment."

  Convinced that the housekeeper was going to stay out of the matter, Gabriel nodded politely to her and made his way down the hall. The door of the parlor was closed, but he could hear loud voices from inside the room. The first voice was that of an irate young man.

  "Damnation, Pa, I did it just like we planned it. Just like we did it the last time. How was I to know she'd have that big cove with her? What does it matter, anyhow? He didn't give me any trouble."

  "Ye should've backed off when ye saw there was a gentleman with her," Nash growled back in response.

  "I told ye, he didn't even put up a fight." There was a snort of derision. "Handed the damn box over as nice as ye please. It was the lady I was worryin' about. I swear, if she'd had a pistol, I'd have been done for. Stop frettin', Pa. We got the manuscript and the money the lady paid for it."