Too Wicked To Kiss Part 25

"Inconclusive," Evangeline said weakly. "Please tell me the horrific set-down you received from Francine Rutherford was in the past, not the future."

"Was it at an opera house? Then, yes." Susan turned and started across the gra.s.s. "That would be the start of the little gossip scandal I mentioned. I'd glimpsed her cavorting with someone other than her better half. And then I told people who it was."

Evangeline ran to catch up. "Angels above, Susan. It looked like you ruined lives."

"I know. I even managed to ruin my own." She walked faster. "I don't really wish to discuss the bad behavior in my past. I'm not like that any more. Shall we fly kites now?"

After a moment, Evangeline nodded and followed Susan to a patch of gra.s.s where a few kites remained unclaimed.

"You know," Evangeline said as Susan picked a yellow one from the pile. "I imagine Mr. Lioncroft doesn't enjoy the constant reminders of the bad behavior in his past, either."

Susan whirled to face her. "I said I know know. And you know what else I I don't enjoy? The constant reminders of how much better you think you are than everybody else, and how you always think you have the right answer and forever know to do the right thing. If you think you'd be the perfect wife for Lion don't enjoy? The constant reminders of how much better you think you are than everybody else, and how you always think you have the right answer and forever know to do the right thing. If you think you'd be the perfect wife for Lionkiller, you can have him. He's heading right for us, anyway. And I'm b.l.o.o.d.y sure he's not hunting you can have him. He's heading right for us, anyway. And I'm b.l.o.o.d.y sure he's not hunting me me."

"He doesn't see me, me," Evangeline said, palms outstretched. "He just sees my Gift. Everybody does. As soon as they learn the truth, I cease being Evangeline and start being The Girl With The Visions. I will never get to be a normal person. You had it all, and you just-"

But Susan had already stalked off, kite in hand, without another word.

Chapter Eighteen.

"Why didn't you sit with me?"

d.a.m.n. That wasn't what he'd meant to say.

Miss Pemberton turned, slowly, slowly, until at last she stared up at him from under those dark curling lashes. It was all Gavin could do not to shake her, kiss her, then toss her over his shoulder, and escape into his house.

"That is," he began, then stopped. There was really no way to unsay what he'd just said, so what use was artifice? "I saved the spot for you," he admitted. "I had hoped for your company."

A strange look flitted across her face. "Didn't you enjoy Susan's?"

"What is is it, today?" Gavin demanded. "You ask about her, she asks about you-" it, today?" Gavin demanded. "You ask about her, she asks about you-"

"Susan asked about me?"

The question was innocent enough, but something in Miss Pemberton's expression was off.

"When I said I wouldn't-oh, never mind." Gavin knelt before the few remaining kites. "It's not important."

She knelt beside him. "About the portraiture, you mean?"

His jaw clenched. "Why did you ask me, if you already knew?"

"Why did you say painting was unimportant?" She slanted him a sideways look. "If you filled an entire mansion with canvases of your own creation, it's clearly important."

"Fine. I like landscapes. Pick up a kite." Gavin rose to his feet.

"What?" She tilted her head toward him, still kneeling, her upturned face even with the b.u.t.tons of his fall.

"Choose a kite, Miss Pemberton." He swallowed. If she leaned forward any closer, her lips would graze his suddenly uncomfortable breeches. "Please."

"Why?"

Devil take it. He could swear he felt the heat of her breath through the layer of cloth. "So we look like we're kite-flying, not...arguing. For G.o.d's sake, woman, are you always this difficult?"

An impish smile curved across her face. "I think so, yes."

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l." Gavin forced himself to back up so that his c.o.c.k was at least a few inches from Miss Pemberton's face. She leaned closer.

"I thought you'd want to sit with Susan."

Gavin bent down, s.n.a.t.c.hed up a kite, and stalked several feet from the pile. "Why the h.e.l.l would I want that?"

Miss Pemberton sifted haphazardly through the remaining kites. "She's rich, she's beautiful, she's Quality, she's-"

"She's not like you."

Her shoulders slumped. "No. She's nothing like me."

Gavin dropped his kite. He stalked back over to Miss Pemberton, hauled her to her feet, and grabbed her by the shoulders. "No. I mean, she's not like you she's not like you." He dropped his voice and leaned into her, until he was sure she knew exactly what he meant. "If we were alone, I'd show you precisely how you affect me, in ways the Stanton chit never could."

She blushed, leapt away from him, busied herself with the kites. "We can't be alone."

He laughed. "Put down that kite and I'll take you somewhere very alone."

"Stop making me think about...that."

"Mmm. I'm thrilled to know I make you think about 'that.' Care to define 'that' for me? Perhaps we can act it out."

She tossed him what was no doubt supposed to be a glare, but the pa.s.sion darkening her eyes told a different story. "I will never confess aloud the sort of thoughts you put in my head." Her gaze dimmed. "What would be the point? I'll be leaving soon, anyway."

"All the more reason," he said, infusing his voice with as much husky rakishness as he could muster.

She shook her head, unmoved by his best attempt at charm. A terrible seriousness replaced her earlier teasing look. "I'd like to leave today."

"Today?" he choked, then cleared his throat. If she'd rather talk leaving than loving, fine. He could accommodate her either way. He gestured toward the fas.h.i.+onable coats and pelisses dotting the wide expanse of his front lawn. "Did you figure out which one of these ingrates wishes me to hang in their stead?"

"It could be anyone." She stepped in front of him, presenting him with her back. "Except us."

"Except us," Gavin agreed softly. She was so close...It would be nothing to reach out, wrap his arms around her, tuck her body against his. Nothing but scandal. He stepped aside. "And the children. And Rose."

She turned, handed him a bright orange kite, frowned. "I'm not entirely sure."

"I told you-I can't picture my sister murdering her own husband." Gavin began to unwind a few feet of twine.

"Plenty of women would kill to escape their husbands. You cannot discount it." Miss Pemberton squinted at him. "But that wasn't who I meant."

He stopped unraveling twine. "Not one of my nieces nieces. They're innocents!"

"Probably," she agreed. "But can you swear it?"

"What do you think happened? The twins clubbed the rotter over his head with their doll?" He shook his head, laughed, ran forward a few yards until the brisk autumn breeze caught the orange fabric of the kite and lifted it into the air.

She ran with him for a while, watching the kite soar across the sky. And then: "Not the twins...Nancy."

He stopped running. "Nancy?" "Nancy?"

"Think about it." Miss Pemberton plucked the twine from his hands, allowing the spool to bob and unroll with the will of the wind. "She'd want to hurt her father for the same reasons. He struck her mother. And what about the French tutor?"

Gavin hooked his thumbs in his waistband. "What French tutor?"

"The French tutor Lord Hetherington sent away for stealing his daughter's heart." Miss Pemberton darted forward to steady the kite. "And kisses."

He chased after her. "That better be all he stole from her, or I'll hunt the salaud salaud down myself." down myself."

"Precisely how Lord Hetherington reacted," she called over her shoulder. "How well do you think that that was received by a young woman in love?" was received by a young woman in love?"

"But to kill him for it?" Gavin reached for her, curved his hands around her shoulders, turned her toward his niece. "Look at her. She's flying a kite. Just like us." He plucked the spool from her hands. "Admit it...Nancy hasn't been acting guilty."

But as soon as he said this, he remembered the scene on the staircase.

Miss Pemberton c.o.c.ked a speculative brow. "Hasn't she?" She paused, lifted a hand to his chest. "Susan saw her," she murmured. "That night. Creeping into her room."

He slid away from her touch. "Not a single one of us was abed as we claimed. It proves nothing."

Then again, he'd seen her tempting fate at the top of the stairs...but surely that was an innocent farce, and just as easily explained.

Miss Pemberton stepped closer, placed her fingers against his forearm. "I overheard her the next day. Talking to the girls. She said if anyone should ask where she'd been, they were to claim she'd been in the nursery all evening."

Gavin tugged on the twine, jerking the kite against the breeze. "She was just scared."

Miss Pemberton inclined her head. "Of what?"

"I don't know! But I don't think she's a killer." He released more twine. The kite dipped and fell, causing him to run several yards before the wind once again whipped it skyward. When he stopped running, Miss Pemberton was still at his side. "Neither is Rose," he informed her. "Rose looks at me like she thinks I I did it, for G.o.d's sake." did it, for G.o.d's sake."

"Does she?" Miss Pemberton asked softly. "Or is she trying to deflect suspicion from herself or her daughter?"

"None of your speculation is helping," he snapped. She flinched, but didn't move away. "Why don't you go find out who really offed the blighter and be done with it? I saw you touch the Stanton chit a moment ago. I a.s.sume it wasn't her."

Anger flashed across her face. "What do you expect me to do-skip from kite to kite, touching all the fliers?"

Gavin unwound more twine. "If it works, yes. Tell them I made you do it. They think I'm mad anyway." He tugged on the kite. "And unless we uncover the true villain, the crime will no doubt be pinned on me."

"It's unfair," Miss Pemberton muttered after she tired of scowling at him. "Virtually everyone here has motive."

"Perhaps, but I'm the only acknowledged killer."

"Stop it." She shoved him. She actually shoved shoved him. him.

He held up his hands in surrender only to have the spool of twine tumble to the gra.s.s. He scooped it back up and adjusted the line before the kite had a chance to fall. "Stop what?"

"Referring to yourself as a killer." She glared at him for a long moment before turning away. "It's not helping."

He shrugged and turned to the sky. "What should I say instead?"

"What did you say to me during the picnic? When I caught your eye. You were mouthing something I couldn't make out."

"You didn't-Oh. Nothing."

Her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Nothing." If she hadn't caught it then, there was no way he'd admit now that he'd mouthed, Save me from the Stanton chit Save me from the Stanton chit.

Miss Pemberton b.u.mped her shoulder into his. "It had to have been something, or you wouldn't have been trying to tell it to me."

"I told you." He grinned at her. "I'm a madman."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm beginning to believe it."

"Is that why you're so eager to leave me?" he asked, then immediately turned his attention to the dips and whirls of the orange kite. Devil take it, what kind of question was that? that?

Several heartbeats pa.s.sed before she responded with, "Escaping my stepfather is my primary goal."

"And your secondary goal?" He held his breath.

"Using my Gift."

Always the b.l.o.o.d.y Gift. Either she had no idea it was killing him to stay away from her, or she simply didn't care. He wasn't sure which was worse, but both thoughts soured his mood. "Then why aren't you using it right now?"

She shot him an annoyed look. "First of all, my head is still pounding from having touched Susan. Secondly, the Gift isn't for spying and crime solving."

"Then what's it for?"

"Helping the less fortunate."

"Won't it be unfortunate when I hang for a crime I didn't commit?"

"The truly truly less fortunate." less fortunate."

"The truly less fortunate?" This time when the kite began to dip, he shoved the spool of twine into her hands. "Who told you that that horses.h.i.+t?" horses.h.i.+t?"

"My mother," she said, then sprinted a few feet to regulate the kite's flight.

"Well, mothers aren't always the brightest stars in the sky," he called out, not bothering to chase after her.