Sebastian pinned her with those cool blue eyes. “How did you know?”
“What happened?”
“How did you know?” he repeated, his tone harsh.
“I was in Buttons Coffee House and heard the news.”
He ran both hands down his face. “He was dead before I got there.”
“Whoever killed him is getting desperate.”
“Or scared.”
“Or scared.”
“What did you learn?” he asked.
“The same. You only have to mention an uprising and people go deaf and dumb. They know nothing. Or at least that’s what they say.”
“Scared,” he said again.
The coach slowed and Sebastian glanced out the window. “We’re almost there.”
The door jerked open and a large man swung in. Before she could draw a breath, Sebastian had pulled his pistol from his boot and moved in front of her. Gabrielle’s stiletto was in her hand just as fast. She tried to push Sebastian away so she had room to move, but he didn’t budge.
The intruder stilled, most of his body inside, his arm hanging on the outside of the carriage. Gabrielle could only stare openmouthed. He was…magnificent, with long dark blond hair pulled back into a queue, piercing gray eyes, and a chiseled face with what she assumed was a permanent smirk of amusement on those beautiful lips.
She swallowed.
Sebastian cursed.
The man’s gaze moved from Sebastian’s pistol pointed at him to Gabrielle’s stiletto pointed at him. He was dressed in tight breeches and tall boots, a cloak that billowed away from his thin yet muscular frame, and a shirt with no cravat that revealed the long, tanned length of his neck.
Sebastian abruptly returned the pistol to his boot and moved back to his seat, shooting the newcomer a disgusted look.
“Are you going to call your kitten off?” the man asked, his lips quirked in amusement as he glanced at her stiletto.
“He’s a friend,” Sebastian said to Gabrielle.
She slipped the stiletto back up her sleeve but kept a wary eye on the man as he settled into the seat next to Sebastian.
“Had I known you were entertaining, I would have knocked,” he said.
Sebastian lazily waved his hand toward Gabrielle. “Lady Gabrielle Marciano, meet Phin Lockwood.”
She’d heard of him. Who hadn’t heard of the well-known pirate?
Phin dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady.” He lifted her hand from her lap. Gabrielle tensed, ready to swing with her other hand, but all he did was press a kiss to it.
Sebastian growled. “To what do we owe the honor of your unexpected entrance?”
Phin smiled and released Gabrielle’s hand. My, my, a gentleman through and through. Sebastian ought to take a few lessons from the reprobate.
“I have information for you, but since you’re preoccupied, it can wait.”
“Lady Marciano is working on the case as well. Whatever information you have is safe to reveal here.”
Phin’s brows shot up and he glanced at her in surprise. She smiled. “Don’t mind me. I’m merely the kitten.”
“With claws, I daresay.”
Her smile widened.
Sebastian cleared his throat. “Your news?”
Why was the notorious pirate helping Sebastian with their case? He was wanted by the crown, for goodness sake. Then again, she’d utilized various reprobates, scoundrels, and thieves in the past. Who better to glean dockside gossip than a pirate?
“I went back to The Coxswain after…” He shot Gabrielle a veiled look. “After our adventure last night.”
“The dead body,” Gabrielle supplied.
Phin flashed her a devastating smile that would have had her swooning if she were the swooning type. “Right. The dead body. I heard a name mentioned numerous times. Grant McFadden. Sound familiar?”
Sebastian seemed to think for a moment, and Gabrielle quickly sifted through her mind. Grant McFadden. Obviously a Scottish name, but it didn’t sound familiar to her.
“No,” Sebastian finally said. He turned to Gabrielle. “You?” She shook her head. “Did you learn anything else?” Sebastian asked Phin.
“I got the impression that this McFadden was possibly responsible for O’Conlon’s death. O’Conlon being the dead man,” he said for Gabrielle’s benefit.
“So this McFadden works for the man we’re looking for,” Sebastian said.
“Or he is the man we’re looking for,” Gabrielle said.
Chapter 10
Phin left as dramatically as he arrived, disappearing into the clamor of the carriages lining the street.
“Well,” Gabrielle said. “He was certainly interesting.”
Sebastian grunted an unintelligible reply.
“Where did you meet him?” she asked.
“He’s a friend of the family.”
She raised her brows. “Does your family often consort with pirates and thieves?”
“You’d be surprised.” At that cryptic remark, the footman opened the carriage door and Sebastian jumped out to help Gabrielle down. Their arrival caused a slight stir, but nothing Gabrielle wasn’t used to, and she easily ignored the narrow-eyed stares of the women. Good Lord, you would think they had more important things to discuss.
They danced twice before Sebastian headed toward the gaming room to see what information he could unearth there, leaving Gabrielle to her own devices. She made her way through the crowd, eyeing particular targets. A group of men laughed in the corner. She would love to eavesdrop on their conversation, since two of them were Scottish-born. Lord Forbes and Lord Morrison. Their target wasn’t necessarily Scottish-born but it was a start. If she remembered correctly, Lord Morrison had a holding in Scotland, close to the highland border. Yes, he was definitely a good place to start.
She headed in their direction. While it would be unseemly to interrupt, she had no problem listening in, and there was a perfect spot to do so right behind the potted plant Lord Morrison was standing next to.
Halfway there, she was stopped by a gentleman who stepped in front of her. “Good evening, my lady.”
Irritated, she dipped a small curtsy while she silently identified the man. Randall Barrett, Lord Hendricks. In a loveless marriage with a shrew of a wife. Recently left his mistress and was in search of another. Apparently he’d set his sights on her. Wonderful. “My lord.”
He swayed, and she wrinkled her nose at his alcohol-saturated breath. Just what she needed, a drunken, unwanted advance.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
“My thanks, my lord.” She shot a quick glance at the clutch of men she’d been heading toward.
“That particular color of…uh…”
Gabrielle raised her brow. “Green?”
“Ah, but not just any green. It’s beautiful against your alabaster skin.”
Alabaster? Her golden skin tone was anything but alabaster. “You’re too kind,” she murmured.
He leaned in close. Gabrielle took a step back. He placed a hand on her arm. They were attracting attention, and the last thing Gabrielle wanted was attention. The gentlemen were still in the corner, but for how much longer? She needed to get over there, but Lord Hendricks was blocking her way, and she didn’t want to draw more unwanted attention or make an enemy of Hendricks.
“It’s warm in here,” he said with a lascivious wink.
“I’m quite comfortable.”
He squeezed her arm in a bruising grip. She tried to pull away without causing a scene, but his hold was so tight that would probably leave a bruise or two.
“Let’s stroll out to the terrace,” he said. “I hear the sky is beautiful.”
It took everything she had not to roll her eyes. Men always wanted to take her out to the terrace, or to the gallery to see their artwork, or to an unoccupied drawing room. If he had been Lord Morrison, she would have said yes and attempted to glean information. But he wasn’t Lord Morrison
. He was a delay in her plans.
“While I am flattered by your…attention, I don’t think that would be appropriate, my lord. I am here with Lord Claybrook.”
His eyes narrowed, and his hold on her arm tightened to the point where he pinched her skin.
“Unhand me, please. My lord.” She was getting angry, and he was holding the arm that her stiletto was strapped to. She could stomp on his foot but hesitated to draw attention. Normally she could brush off would-be suitors who thought she was an easy target, but Hendricks was proving tenacious.
When he smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes. “You sleep with everyone else. Why not me?”
“I’m very particular when choosing my companions.”
His shoulders went back in outrage. “So I’m not good enough?”
She shrugged. “Your words, not mine, my lord. Now please unhand me before I have to unhand you myself.”
He laughed. “And what can you do to me?”
“You’d be surprised.” She was so weary of these conversations. They didn’t happen often, but when they did, they were draining. She hated that these men thought they could bed her just because others had. She hated how low they made her feel. She was nothing to them but a quick roll in bed. For once, just once, she wanted someone to see her as a human being instead of a good night of sex. And to think she risked her life to keep these reprobates safe.
“I believe the lady asked you to step away.”
Sebastian loomed beside them, his blue eyes so cold they could cut through a person.
Hendricks smirked, apparently not intimidated by Sebastian. “This conversation doesn’t concern you, Claybrook.”
“Ah, but it does.” Sebastian’s smile was slow and dangerous. Gabrielle had never seen him look like that, and it arrested her attention. She didn’t think she wanted those blue eyes pinned on her the way they were pinned on Hendricks. His body was tightly coiled, as if he were ready to pounce. His arrival had drawn even more attention. That would mean more gossip with her name on it. “Lady Marciano is under my care, Hendricks. A slight to her is a slight to me.”
Hendricks hesitated. Even his alcohol-soaked brain understood the implications. Sebastian was not a man you wanted as your enemy. He came from a long line of earls with great political power, more than Hendricks and most of these people would ever know.
Hendricks’s hand slid away and he shot Gabrielle a disgusted look. “You can have the soiled dove, Claybrook. She’s probably pox-ridden, anyway.”
Sebastian moved toward Hendricks, his hands tightened into fists, his expression so stony it was frightening.
Gabrielle quickly stepped between them. “Let him go.”
“He can’t get away with saying that about you.”
“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. It means nothing. He’s angry because I declined his invitation.”
Cold blue eyes looked down on her. “His behavior is unacceptable.”
“Of course it is. For anyone but me,” she said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means men feel they can say anything they want because of my reputation.”
She didn’t think it possible, but his eyes grew even colder, more deadly and dangerous. The skin around his mouth was pinched and white. “This happens often?”
“Often enough.”
“Gabrielle—”
She held up a forestalling hand. “Enough, Sebastian. There are reasons I have this reputation, and you know it.”
He looked away, but his face tightened when he saw how many people were avidly staring, waiting for whatever came next. “Do you want to leave?” he asked, turning back to her.
“Of course not. One drunken idiot is not going to ruin our plans.” She looked over at the now empty corner. Damn. She’d missed her chance to eavesdrop on the men’s conversation.
Claire appeared, her brows drawn in worry. “Gabrielle, are you all right?”
“Perfectly fine.” She would be even better if everyone would forget what they’d seen. It humiliated her that men like Lord Hendricks took liberties they would never think of taking with a woman like Claire. It humiliated her even more that her friends saw it happen. There was naught she could do but brush it aside and carry on, like she’d done for years.
“Enough of this,” she said gaily. “Claire, go back to Nathan, he’s looking a little lost without you. Sebastian, return to your card game. I will…” She hesitated, unsure what she would do, for she had no friends to converse with, and the men she’d set her sights on had moved on. She spotted Lord Wilcott at the edge of the crowd, watching her. “I will speak to Lord Wilcott.”
Claire patted her arm. “Are you certain? We can leave if you’d like.”
“Nonsense. Except for Lord Hendricks, I’m having a marvelous time.” Marvelous was stretching it but would do.
Sebastian watched her closely, as if he knew she was putting on a show for everyone. She gave him a pointed look meant to convey that they had a job to do and nothing should stand in the way. He seemed to accept her silent command. “Very well. Dinner should be served shortly. I will return to escort you.”
“Lovely,” she said with a smile.
Claire and Sebastian drifted away, but not before Sebastian glanced over his shoulder at Gabrielle. She waved to him with a bright smile that felt like it would crack into a thousand pieces very soon.
When they’d disappeared and the crowd had resumed its normal chatter, Gabrielle made her way to Wilcott, keeping a sharp eye out for more men like Hendricks. Hopefully any others would now think twice, since Sebastian had come to her rescue and declared her under his protection. She felt a small amount of guilt over that. Surely he would soon be in the market for a wife, and no woman would want to know he had consorted with Gabrielle. But the thought of Sebastian with a wife was too distressing for her to think about, so she pushed it away.
“Lady Marciano.” Wilcott bowed to her.
“Lord Wilcott. How are you this evening?” In truth, he didn’t look all that well. The color was absent from his face, and there was a sheen of perspiration coating his brow. His gaze darted here and there. Mayhap he didn’t appreciate her presence after that show Hendricks had put on.
“Are you well, Lord Wilcott?”
He tugged at his cravat. “Deuced hot in here, don’t you think?”
It was the same thing Hendricks had said, but Gabrielle was fairly certain Wilcott didn’t have the same intentions. “Would you like to step out onto the terrace to get some fresh air?”
He glanced toward the terrace doors and didn’t answer for the longest time. Finally he shook his head, as if shaking away unwanted thoughts. “I would like that very much.” He offered his arm, she took it, and they made their way toward the terrace doors. “I’m sorry for what Hendricks did to you,” he said.
“No need to apologize for him. He’s drunk. He wasn’t thinking properly.”
“No gentleman should ever behave that way toward a lady.”
She shrugged it away, weary of talking about Hendricks. “How is your mother?” she asked.
“Partly relieved, since I’ve been seen with you several times. Thank you for that.”
“My pleasure. I’m glad to be of some service.”
They stepped out onto the terrace, and Gabrielle had to admit it was nice to breathe in fresh air and let the cool breeze brush across her. These balls were stifling in more ways than one. Out here there were fewer people to stare at her, fewer people to talk about her. The couples on the terrace stuck to the shadows, unwilling to intrude on others’ privacies because they didn’t want theirs intruded upon. However, the cooler air didn’t seem to help Wilcott, for he was perspiring more than ever.
“Do you care to take a stroll out onto the lawn? I feel the need to escape for a moment or two.”
He looked relieved. Poor Wilcott, he was clearly feeling as out of place as she was. “Certainly.”
Silently they made their way down the stone step
s. A path meandered through groups of bushes toward a small maze. Wilcott walked beside her but not close enough to touch her.
“I’ve never been all that good at finding my way through these mazes,” he said absently.
Gabrielle laughed and patted his arm. “Never fear. I find I’m quite good at it.” She’d thought to make him smile, at the least, but his expression remained rigid. “Is everything all right?” she asked.
His arm jerked beneath her hand. “Of course.”
They walked in silence. The sounds of the ball quickly faded when they reached the maze, and Gabrielle found the silence more stifling than comforting. She wished she’d not walked so far away from the house. But that was silly. This was Wilcott. He was harmless. All he needed was someone to talk to. Someone who understood what it was like to be an outcast from society.
“The night is beautiful,” she said, looking up at the stars. Normally the stars were obliterated by the smoke from the thousands of London chimneys, but they were blessed tonight by a cool breeze that blew the smoke away.
Wilcott stopped. They weren’t so very far into the maze, and Gabrielle thought he might want to head back to the ball. She stopped and turned to him. He wiped his brow. “I apologize, my lady.”
“It’s quite all right. We’ll head back. Dinner will be served soon.”
He shook his head. His hand trembled and Gabrielle frowned. What the devil was wrong with him?
The light of the moon glinted off something in his hand and Gabrielle froze, her gaze riveted to the pistol pointed at her.
Chapter 11
As he’d promised, Sebastian returned to the ballroom to escort Gabrielle to dinner, but devil if he couldn’t find her. Where had she gotten off to now?
Irritated, he visually searched the crowd. She’d been wearing a very fetching green gown. He remembered because it wasn’t a green that he’d ever seen in a gown. It shimmered from bright green to almost black, and it set off her golden skin tone perfectly.
He shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him, thinking of the color of her gown? He was more addled than he thought.
He remembered she had said she was going to speak to Wilcott.
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