Too Wicked To Kiss Part 22

The quizzing gla.s.s fell atop the parchment. "What?"

"I don't wish to return. I don't wish to lay eyes on him ever again, nor he on me. How did he find me so quickly? How did he know I was here?"

"You don't deny having run away from your stepfather?"

Miss Pemberton closed her eyes and s.h.i.+vered. When her gaze again focused on his, a hollowness had replaced the usual spark. "What point would there be? You've a letter from him right before you."

"A letter demanding your return."

"A demand with which I have no intention of complying. He..." She paled, shook. "He thinks only of himself."

"Yet you find no fault in complying with others' self-centered demands, do you not?"

She stared at him. "I do what?"

"If you expect me to collude with you outside of the law, the very least you could do is be honest with me."

"I am honest with you!"

"You said you were a friend of Miss Stanton's, not a girl on the run from her stepfather."

"I am both those things."

"Are you? Are you simply the bosom friend of Miss Stanton's as you would have me believe, or are you perchance a manipulator and a liar, presenting me with one face while conspiring behind my back to compromise me against my will to a chit I have no desire to be leg-shackled to?"

"Lady Stanton...is very single-minded."

"Lady Stanton," Gavin corrected, "is a b.i.t.c.h. What makes her a better ally than your stepfather?"

"Not being being my stepfather." my stepfather."

"Were you aware she wrote a letter to inform him of your whereabouts because you failed to fulfill your half of the bargain?"

Miss Pemberton gasped. "She is is a-I cannot believe-well, unfortunately, I can believe-but the party hasn't even concluded! How would she know what I will or won't do before we leave?" a-I cannot believe-well, unfortunately, I can believe-but the party hasn't even concluded! How would she know what I will or won't do before we leave?"

"I have no intention of marrying the Stanton chit even if falsely compromised, nor do I appreciate your complicity in Lady Stanton's stratagem."

Miss Pemberton rose to her feet. Although still unnaturally pale, her chin tilted at a stubborn angle. "I respect that. I had no wish to make any progress in that regard. However, I would do anything to escape my stepfather."

"I surmised as much." Gavin nodded toward a chair. "Sit."

She regarded him warily, as if half expecting him to pounce. "You're not angry?"

"I'm furious. Sit Sit."

Miss Pemberton sat.

"Whether you wish it to be so or not, I have the power to send you home to your stepfather."

"You do not," she gasped.

He raised a brow.

"I could run away again," she insisted, eyes wild. "I've done it before."

"To raging success, I see." He returned his quizzing gla.s.s to its drawer. "Have you any money?"

"No."

He refolded the missive and replaced it on its pile. "Transportation?"

"N-no."

His fingers steepled. "Lodging? Food? Protection?"

This time the word was a whisper. "No."

He lifted a shoulder. "Then I find running away to be a very foolish alternative, to say the least."

She blinked slowly, as if forcing him into focus. "Alternative to what?"

"Staying here until my brother-in-law's killer has been brought to light."

"But my stepfather demanded my return-"

"And I penned a very pretty apology because I am unwilling to give you up until you've helped me prove my innocence. You begin today."

"I do? Does that mean if I do not, you intend to throw me from your house?"

"If you do not, I intend to return you to your legal guardian."

Her knuckles whitened in her lap. "You're extorting my help. Temporary freedom in exchange for a.s.sisting your personal goals."

"Was that not your arrangement with Lady Stanton?"

"It was a horrible arrangement. I should've chosen a penniless life on the streets of London." Miss Pemberton stared at him in disbelief. "You're no better than she is."

Gavin shrugged. "I never claimed to be better than anyone, merely innocent of this particular murder. I intend to prove this fact before being hung for a crime I didn't commit. And I need your help to do so. Do we have a deal?"

"What do you wish for me to do?"

Ah. Progress.

"The last time we were alone, you admitted Lady Stanton orchestrated just such an event so you could touch me and spy inside my mind, did you not? You, Miss Pemberton, have an invaluable talent. I would rather it be used to my benefit than hers."

"Everybody does," she muttered.

"You willfully spied on me. Inside my brain. Without permission. Against my will. Surely I can ask for rest.i.tution to such a trespa.s.s."

"I did not spy on you." Miss Pemberton crossed her arms and sent him a baleful stare. "I literally cannot. Besides, you have no call for indignation. Aren't you asking me to do the same to others?"

"I...I suppose I am." Unease soured Gavin's stomach briefly before his desire to escape the gallows returned to the forefront. "Then you agree? You'll help me prove my innocence in exchange for temporary freedom?"

"No." Her arms tightened below her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "If we're negotiating terms of the arrangement, then I should like permanent freedom in exchange for my help."

"Mr. Pemberton is your legal guardian," Gavin reminded her. "I cannot keep you here forever."

"I do not wish to be be with a self-centered extortionist like you a moment longer than necessary," she bit out. "Once I've done my part, I should like enough money to take the mail coach anywhere I choose." with a self-centered extortionist like you a moment longer than necessary," she bit out. "Once I've done my part, I should like enough money to take the mail coach anywhere I choose."

Gavin stared at the angry young woman on the other side of his desk, surprised that she'd caught him off guard with her response. Of course, she had no wish to stay. She wanted to leave him. Forever. Just like everyone else. How could he have imagined otherwise? Guilty of murder or not, he did not deserve her-or, likely, anyone. After all, he was in fact the self-centered extortionist she proclaimed him to be. And worse.

So, he nodded.

"Fair enough," he said softly. "But I am not so cruel as to send you off in a mail coach. I will provide a carriage, and if you will not accept that, then at the very least you will allow me to hire a hack for wherever you plan to go. And you must also take enough money to a.s.sure me you will have a roof and a bed until you get...on your feet."

His blood iced as he looked at her. The most common source of income for a young girl living alone in the streets required her to remain on her back, not her feet. What kind of a man was her stepfather that she would willfully choose such a life over returning home?

Miss Pemberton slumped, defeated. "That is, if if I live through the worsening aftereffects long enough to prove you innocent." I live through the worsening aftereffects long enough to prove you innocent."

Her words instantly called to mind the image of her pale form lying unconscious after the terrifying experience in Hetherington's chamber. Rose had reached out merely to offer support, and Miss Pemberton...Miss Pemberton had dropped to the ground as though struck by a bullet. Gavin swallowed. He had no idea how serious her condition might be. Could he be asking her to risk her life to save his? Did it even matter?

"Yes," he said aloud, unsure which question he was answering. Perhaps neither. Perhaps both.

Miss Pemberton nodded, rose, and crossed the room.

"Wait," he called. She paused, her back to him. "You never said why you sought me out this morning."

When she glanced at him over her shoulder, her gaze was shadowed and unreadable. "Ironic as it now seems, I came to apologize."

He stood, began to go to her, stopped. "For what?"

"For my role in Lady Stanton's contrivances. I came to tell you I was against it from the beginning, and that I never intended to compromise you to Susan against your will-or hers. I came to tell you I'd paid lip-service out of desperation, and that I was delighted to find I couldn't follow through even if I wanted to, because I think secretly using visions for the sole purpose of spying on or deceiving others is the worst kind of cowardice, and wholly reprehensible. I see now that such an apology would've been a wasted effort, as you are cut from precisely the same manipulative cloth as my stepfather and Lady Stanton. Although I do not get visions from your touch, my lord, I would prefer in the future for you to keep your hands to yourself. Good day."

This time when she turned to leave, Gavin made no move to stop her.

Chapter Sixteen.

Evangeline stormed back to the guest quarters in a high fury.

What was it about her that attracted arrogant, violent, self-centered men? Did she have the appearance of someone easily cowed? Angels above, even her hair hair wasn't easily cowed, so why would the rest of her be? Her stepfather had spent the past twenty years trying to beat her into a pathetic submissive state and failed every time. She might have followed his dictates more often if he'd commanded with words rather than with his fist. wasn't easily cowed, so why would the rest of her be? Her stepfather had spent the past twenty years trying to beat her into a pathetic submissive state and failed every time. She might have followed his dictates more often if he'd commanded with words rather than with his fist.

And Mr. Lioncroft! He was no better. He could've simply asked asked her to help him prove his innocence. She'd gone to his office to apologize, for heaven's sake. She would've fallen all over herself in her eagerness to make amends. But, no. A man like that doesn't ask for what he wants. He orders. He demands. He extorts. Much like Lady Stanton, a creature of worse evil than Evangeline had imagined. The harridan penned a note to her stepfather on the grounds of a single day's ineffectiveness at getting Susan into a compromising position? Evangeline was clairvoyant, not a saint. Miracles were quite outside her ability. her to help him prove his innocence. She'd gone to his office to apologize, for heaven's sake. She would've fallen all over herself in her eagerness to make amends. But, no. A man like that doesn't ask for what he wants. He orders. He demands. He extorts. Much like Lady Stanton, a creature of worse evil than Evangeline had imagined. The harridan penned a note to her stepfather on the grounds of a single day's ineffectiveness at getting Susan into a compromising position? Evangeline was clairvoyant, not a saint. Miracles were quite outside her ability.

Solving the mystery of Lord Hetherington's murder might likewise be outside her ability. But she had to try. And she had to be fast. Her home in the Chiltern Hills wasn't more than a single day's drive from Braintree and Bocking. If her stepfather received Mr. Lioncroft's response today, he could arrive by tomorrow evening. Why hadn't she thought to ask when Mr. Lioncroft had sent his reply? Or how he'd sent it? Ah, yes. Because the thought of Neal Pemberton coming to fetch her from Blackberry Manor had struck fear into her very bones. Perhaps she shouldn't bother confronting Lady Stanton. Perhaps she should pack her things-what things? She had nothing!-and leave this very moment.

But...on foot? With no food, no clothes, no money? As Mr. Lioncroft had pointed out, such an action would be borne as much of foolishness as desperation. And autumn was cruel. She had no wish to flee, only to die from the elements. Then again, she had no wish to live to be one hundred, bound and beaten in some corner of the Pemberton cottage.

Nothing for it. She would have to solve the murder today today, accept Mr. Lioncroft's guilt money, and be gone at first light.

Thus resolved, Evangeline found herself once again standing outside a closed door. This time, she had no gloves to remove. As far as she knew, those sc.r.a.ps of cloth still resided on Mr. Lioncroft's desk. Nor did she make any attempt to tame her hair. The pins were lost forever, and besides, her looks had never been palatable in Lady Stanton's eyes anyway. Why bother attempting to please the unpleasable?

With a twist of the handle, Evangeline thrust open the door and charged inside.

Lady Stanton shot up from a cus.h.i.+oned seat before a small vanity. Her lady's maid started, hairbrush in hand, at Evangeline's unexpected countenance in the mirror.

"How dare you enter without permission!" Lady Stanton's words cut across the room like gla.s.s.

Evangeline strode forward. "How dare you pen a letter to my stepfather."

"I don't have to respond to such peevishness, Miss Pemberton. Barging in here like you own the place." Both Lady Stanton's tone and expression turned glacial. "Such behavior is the height of rudeness."

"That's why I did it," Evangeline returned. "What excuse do you have for your actions?"

"I need not excuse myself to a ragam.u.f.fin like you, in any case. Just look at you. Dolled up in Susan's castoffs and you still manage to look like the grubbiest urchin alive. Be gone from my room. I'll summon you if and when I feel we have matters to discuss." Lady Stanton sat back down on the cus.h.i.+oned seat before her vanity. "As you can see, my maid is attending to my hair. I suggest you find a servant to attempt something with yours."

Evangeline's jaw tightened. "I don't care about my hair."

"Well, you should. It's a right mess." Lady Stanton swiveled back to face the gla.s.s and motioned for her lady's maid to continue.

"I want to know why you corresponded with my stepfather."

"You showed no interest in complying with my stratagem. What use had I of you?"

"What use? I would have been happy to peel potatoes in the larder until you returned to Stanton House. I came to you for safety. For shelter. For-"

"For a handout, you mean. No doubt you took one look at Lioncroft and decided his pockets were deeper than mine. And you're right-they are. But you shan't have him. Despite his many flaws, he was born a member of our cla.s.s, not yours. You have no cla.s.s at all, just like your mother. Blood will tell, I always say. She was a tatterdemalion like no other. Looked every inch the gypsy."

"Leave my mother out of this. She was a better woman than you'll ever be."

"Is that right?" Lady Stanton's brittle laugh was like shattered gla.s.s. "Then why, in the years I knew her, did she spend the majority of her evenings locked on the wrong side of the attic door? Because she was a witch like you, that's why. Her husband would never have married so far beneath him had he not been convinced of her talents being an a.s.set at the gaming table."

"What?" Evangeline stared at Lady Stanton's reflection. "The Gift doesn't even work like that."

"As he learned, Miss Pemberton. As he learned. If your mother had been honest with him up front, she might've escaped confinement by avoiding the altar altogether. I advise you now to drop whatever designs you think you have on Lioncroft. He deserves better than the likes of you, just as your father did. He deserved a woman, not a witch. Your mother was the worst wife he could've wed. He never did live down the humiliation of having to keep her locked up at home. I'm convinced pure shame is what killed him in the end." She turned to her lady's maid. "I think the pearls should be threaded through today, not the strands of gold. You'll have to start over."

Evangeline's fists tightened until her nails drew blood from her palms. "What about my mother? Wouldn't it be more truthful to say he he was the worst possible husband for was the worst possible husband for her? her?"

"Piffle. She brought it on herself by overreaching her station. Just like you. Whether you realize it or not, Miss Pemberton, you bring about your own consequences with the actions you choose. I offered you an arrangement. You did not follow through. End of arrangement."

"You asked for the impossible." Evangeline crossed her arms over her chest, clutching herself tightly so as to prevent her from launching into Lady Stanton and clawing out those cold, colorless eyes.

"No, not those pearls. The others. Yes, those." Lady Stanton's gaze met Evangeline's through the gla.s.s. "I asked you for a simple compromise."