Unmasking Deception, page 16
“Where is Knowton?” he demanded.
“Buck-in-ham-shire,” the boy enunciated. “Just.”
Buckinghamshire. Minton. Viola.
For an instant, he was torn. To rush to the Doves’ house and see if Viola was home and well? Of course, she would not be home. She would be at some wretched party or the theatre…Or in a carriage with Minton against her will—and to deal with that, he needed Dominic and Napper.
He resumed walking, forcing his game leg to a faster pace. “If you see a hackney,” he said grimly, “seize it.”
Stupidly, perhaps, he didn’t expect Dominic to be gone. With his pistol.
*
“Why did we take his coat?” Dominic asked.
They had paused near Maida Gardens to let the exhausted horses rest and decide how best to proceed. They had led the horses off the road and into meadowland beyond the Garden’s walls. It was almost completely dark, but fortunately, lanterns shone from the wall, and they could all see the coat in question, hanging off Viola like an adult garment on a child.
Remembering, she found the right pocket and stroked it as Minton had. Just beneath it, she felt the outline of something. “To annoy him really, because he seemed fascinated by whatever is in here, beneath the lining. I can feel the outline of it. Minton couldn’t leave it alone.” She turned the flapping length of coat around to reveal the lining. “I thought it might be a coin, but it feels more like an ornate button or jewelry, perhaps.”
Dominic reached across to feel for himself. It brought him closer again, as he had been during the wild ride back toward London. Fresh butterflies gamboled in her stomach. She could not look away from his face as he brought all his concentration to bear on the coat.
After a moment, he delved inside his own greatcoat pocket and brought out Minton’s stolen pen knife, with which he sliced the stitching of the lining. A scrap of linen fell out into Viola’s lap.
She picked it up, unwrapping the linen, and discovered a jewel-encrusted button linked to a narrow bar of gold. “A sleeve button?” she asked curiously. “But only for one sleeve. I can feel nothing in the other pocket.”
Dominic all but snatched the button from her, jumping to his feet to let the lantern light above fall on it more clearly.
“Why would he hide a cuff link?” Viola asked.
“Because it is Crawley’s,” Dominic said grimly.
Her breath caught. “Really? Are you sure?”
“Oh yes. I stared at it for long enough when it was discovered at my front door. And before that, at his damned wrist while he tossed the dice.” He dropped back down. “Minton killed him and set up the evidence to blame me.”
“Why?” Napper demanded. “What’s he got against you?”
“Nothing. He just needed somebody else to take the blame, and I was eminently suitable. I didn’t like Crawley. I’d been quarreling with him. And he won money from me I could ill afford.” He gave a crooked smile. “He won money from Minton and Jarvey, too, and they obviously wanted it back rather more than I did.”
“But they left the money at your door,” Viola pointed out.
“Half the money,” Dominic corrected. “And half the cuff links. They’re heavy gold, and those stones at the center are diamonds with valuable dark sapphires at the center. He probably meant to sell this one once the fuss about the murder died down. The stones could easily be made into earrings instead or some other jewelry.”
“Is it enough to convict him?” Viola asked. “Considering we just stole his coat?”
Dominic considered. “We’ll just have to find a way to make him claim it again.” He smiled at her, a direct, blazing smile that deprived her of breath. “I’m in your debt again. And amazed you could even notice such a thing when you must have been terrified. I’d never have thought of taking his coat.”
“You’re a terrible highwayman,” Napper observed.
“Says the man who held up two carriages with a tree branch.” Dominic retorted. He pocketed the linen and the cuff link and rose to his feet, holding out his hand to her. “Come, we had better get you home, though I’m reluctant to burden the poor horses again.”
She took his hand and stood beside him. “There’s probably a hackney at the gates.”
He nodded, consideringly. Then his eyes began to gleam. “The horses are probably safe enough where they are if we tie them to a couple of branches. There’s plenty to crop here, and I can probably get someone from the Gardens to take them water and bring them back in the morning.”
From his pocket, he took Minton’s coin purse and gave half the contents to Napper. “Get a hackney back to London and send word to Viola’s family that she’s safe and will be home very soon.”
Napper scowled, though he pocketed the coins. “Why, where is she going first?”
“To the ball, of course,” Dominic said.
“What?” Startled, Viola glanced from one to the other. “Don’t be silly. I need to go home!”
“Then you shall,” Dominic said at once. “I just thought you might prefer to extract something more amusing from the day.”
In spite of herself, the idea was attractive. A little fairy tale illusion to wipe away the fear and tension. Just to be reckless and dance in his arms…
“We are hardly dressed for it,” she pointed out.
“It’s not a ton party. Besides, we’ll go over the wall, not through the front gate.”
“Why?” she asked, bewildered.
His lips quirked. “Because we can.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed.
Napper threw up his arms. “Just don’t end up back in Newgate,” he growled. “And you look after her, sir, or you and I part ways. I’ll leave you to your lunacy. One hour, mind, no more!” On that warning, he helped Viola out of Minton’s too-large greatcoat, exchanged it for his highwayman’s mask, and strode off toward the road without a backward glance.
“I’m surprised he gave in so easily,” Viola murmured. “I’m surprised I did.”
Dominic, who had wandered along the length of the boundary wall, looking for a suitable place to climb, cast her a quick, flashing smile. “He’s a good man and… understanding.”
Viola wished she understood, too. But she followed him.
“Here,” he pronounced, finding a place with an overhanging tree and a gap in the hedge-like undergrowth that grew along the length of the wall. “If I lift you, can you manage to sit on the wall while I get up beside you?”
“Don’t be silly.” Hitching her skirts over her arm, she clambered onto the lowest tree branch, and from there, jumped, heaving herself onto the wall.
He laughed with what sounded like pure delight and joined her there among a jingling of lanterns and waving lights. It was quite a drop to the other side, but at least this corner was deserted, though she could hear voices nearby.
Dominic jumped lightly down and turned to her, holding up his arms. She launched herself into them, and for some reason, all her breath vanished. She was no longer a child up to mischief with the local country children. God knew, he was no boy, but a tall, strong man whose smile melted her bones, whose hard body heated hers as he lowered her too slowly to the ground.
His heart beat strongly beneath her palm. They were alone in a dark, deserted place, all but melded together, and she wanted his kiss as she had never wanted anything before. His lips parted, and her stomach plunged as he bent toward her.
He pressed the mask across her face, adjusting it to position the eye slits correctly, and bent closer yet to tie the strings behind her head. She could smell him—cedar soap and beneath that something elusive and peculiarly Dominic. His skin.
In the distance, a raucous laugh rang out. Waltz music drifted on the wind. She wanted to dance with him. She wanted to stay right here.
He straightened, ascertaining the position of her mask with his fingers, which paused. He stared down at her, and her breath vanished once more. Then he swooped and pressed his mouth to hers, and she gasped in welcome and longing.
None of his kisses had been quite so sensual, so invasive, so overwhelming. She wanted his hands everywhere on her. She wanted to be rid of all the clothes separating her skin from his. But mostly, she just wanted this to never end.
His lips loosened, moving on hers as though speaking silent words. And then he smiled and stepped back, dragging her hand through his arm. “We had better go and dance before I ravish you. And then your family and mine—and Napper—will be vying for the privilege of shooting me. And rightly so.”
His voice was not quite steady, which was some comfort as she stumbled along beside him. He pulled on his own mask, which was still tied from the hold-up, before they emerged onto a path, startling an embracing couple.
The couple sprang guiltily apart, though they still snickered knowingly after Dominic and Viola as they walked away.
Viola felt her face burn, but Dominic almost swaggered, his eyes gleaming with laughter. “Isn’t anonymity fun?”
It seemed it was, with him. On the better-lit paths, they walked hand-inhand. He sprang onto the ornate little bridge over the stream while she waited below and declaimed Juliet’s balcony speech from Romeo and Juliet, making her almost cry with laughter. They danced an exuberant, spinning waltz around a small, castle-like folly and then made their more sedate way down the path from the waterfall to the outdoor dance floor.
Here, Dominic found them a table and ordered champagne. It was odd, but though she was not dressed for a ball, nor in reputable company for the occasion, she could never recall feeling more contented in her life. She sat back beside Dominic, hatless and jewelless, and sipped champagne while she watched the dancers, and the music filled her ears. Dominic seemed to fill all her other senses. Even when he didn’t speak, even when she didn’t look at him. Every fiber of her was aware of him and happy.
“I should be home,” she said once. “My mother, the children, must have been worried sick.”
“Napper will allay their fears as quickly as you would have.”
But not so much as my presence.
His hand covered hers. “Everyone needs a moment to themselves sometimes. You are prepared to give up your life for them. You are entitled to an hour of fun without a care in the world.”
But I do care. I care for you.
The music had stopped, and people were milling back to their tables or inside the pavilion for supper. A few lingered together on the terraced dance floor, reluctant to part, perhaps, or just waiting for the next waltz to begin.
Dominic set down his glass and rose, extending his hand to her. “Will you dance with me, madam?”
She smiled and placed her hand in his. “Sir, I will.”
*
I love you. The words he had spoken silently against her lips in the semi-darkness rang still in his mind as he took her in his arms for the waltz.
These were stolen moments, which he had made for her as much as for himself. To erase the fear of Minton’s abduction, to show her spontaneous happiness, to declare his love without speaking it. For he couldn’t, in honor, not while he was still convicted of murder.
Of course, he should not be kissing her either or dancing with her. He probably should have taken her straight home. But somehow, he had sensed this need in her, to be free for just a little while. To be with him, without anxiety. And it matched the need in him.
“What did you think when you danced with me here the first time?” she asked.
Being Viola, she was not fishing for compliments but seeking information. And he could not palm her off with an easy lie.
“I thought you would do to hide me from the Runners,” he said frankly. “And then, after a bit, I wished I had not met you in that particular situation.”
Her mask hid much but could not disguise the hurt in her expressive eyes.
“Because,” he added, sticking to the truth, “I had always wanted to meet someone like you and never had. It was just my luck to finally come upon you when I was running from the law.”
“You don’t think it was good luck?”
“I can’t be sorry,” he admitted. “You saved my life and entertain me and fight my battles. And you kiss like an angelic demon. Or a demonic angel, I don’t know which.”
She blushed fiercely as he’d known she would but found the courage to hold his gaze. “Is that good?”
“Oh, my dear, yes. Have I not already said so? Proved so? Viola—” He broke off, swamped by the competing needs to press her to him, to keep her at an honorable distance.
Honorable distance! He had kissed her silly, not once but several times. Life without her seemed increasingly impossible, and he knew in his heart he had won her.
“When this is over,” he murmured with rare difficulty, “when I am exonerated, will you consider me? Even though I am not rich, and I cannot support your entire family alone?”
Her chin lifted. “Are you making me an offer, upon conditions?”
He smiled because he couldn’t help it. “Yes. Will you accept upon the same?”
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.
He wanted to drag her against him and kiss her. Instead, his heart singing, he spun her around, almost lifting her feet from the ground, and she laughed with delight and gazed at him with so much love in her eyes that he wondered how he would ever live up to it. But God help him, it would make him happy just to try.
He was a man who lived in the moment, and so he did. He lost himself in her and danced until the music stopped. And then, because there was a fine line between freedom and selfishness, he threaded her arm through his and walked her back to the table to collect her bonnet and his coat with Richard’s pistol in the pocket, and they strolled down the main path to the gate and the hackney that would take her home.
Chapter Fifteen
Catherine Dove preferred books to real life, and on this particular evening, with fear gnawing at the pit of her stomach, she remembered why.
“Begging your pardon, ma’am.” Sarah stuck her head in the drawing room door where the entire family, including cousin Frank Trewthorpe, had gathered to worry about Viola. “There’s a man here who says he needs to speak to you.”
“Man?” Mrs. Dove exclaimed. “What man? I have no time to speak to any men! Send him away.”
“Well, I would,” Sarah said doubtfully, “only he’s very persistent and seems uncommonly determined to—Ooh!” She broke off in alarm as the door was pushed out of her hold, opening wide enough for a familiar figure to stride in.
“Napper!” Adrian exclaimed as Pup launched himself from the sofa to greet his old friend.
“Sh-sh!” Susan exclaimed. “We’re not meant to know him.”
“This is more important,” Catherine insisted, marching up to him. “Napper, do you know anything about Viola?”
“’Course I do. That’s what I came to tell you. That bloke Minton took her, but we rescued her all right and tight, and she’s on her way home.”
Relief surged through Catherine so quickly that she was about to hug Napper. Fortunately, since this would have scandalized her mother, she made herself sit down abruptly instead. “Sarah, bring tea and supper for this man. He is clearly exhausted.”
“But who is he?” Mama asked, bewildered. “How does he know Viola? And if he rescued her, why isn’t she with him?”
Because she was with Dominic, of course, but they couldn’t tell Mama that.
“I came ahead,” Napper said evasively, bending to keep the dog on the ground while he petted him, “to stop you worrying.”
“But who are you?” Mama demanded.
“I can’t tell you that,” Napper said bluntly.
“You…you… Then who is my daughter with?”
“Can’t tell you that, either,” Napper said apologetically, “but he’s a gentleman and will bring her back safe and sound in just a jiffy.”
Catherine and Arabella led their bewildered mother tottering to the sofa, where she suddenly jerked up her head.
“Minton?” she demanded as though suddenly remembering the name had been spoken. “Minton took her? Do you mean he abducted her?”
“Yes, but there was no harm done,” Napper said.
Mama closed her mouth. “That’s what you think! Which Minton?”
“Younger one.”
“I knew she should have waited for Sir Alfred to invite her!”
Sarah appeared at that moment with tea and a cold collation which was set on a table in front of Napper. Their mother frowned but apparently had no energy to send him to the kitchen where he more properly belonged. Catherine almost ached with the need to ask him questions he couldn’t answer in front of their mother.
And then another commotion occurred below. Everyone jumped to their feet, making a movement toward the drawing room door—except Napper, who carried on eating.
Sara appeared. “Lord Richard Gorse!” she announced and bolted while everyone, including Catherine, dealt with their disappointment that the commotion had not been Viola’s arrival.
“Oh, the devil,” Napper muttered.
As Lord Richard limped into the room, Mrs. Dove roused herself to greet him.
“My lord, what a pleasant surprise.”
His lips quirked. “I’ll allow it is certainly a surprise,” he said, bowing. “But I’m afraid I must…” He broke off as his gaze found Napper at the same time as Pup landed on him with full force. If Catherine had not seized his arm, steadying him enough to grasp the back of the nearest chair, he might well have gone down under Pup’s boisterous affection.
Adrian hauled the dog off. Mrs. Dove looked mortified, though Lord Richard himself barely seemed to notice. He was glaring at the defiant Napper.
“What on earth are you doing here? How dare you vanish without so much as a word?”
“You know this man?” Mrs. Dove asked incredulously.
Lord Richard paused. “He’s my footman.”
Susan snickered.
“Where is the other one?” Lord Richard asked Napper, a dangerous light in his eye.
“On his way,” came the phlegmatic response.
