Too Wicked To Kiss Part 29

"Back?" Susan repeated when the maid paused for breath. "Where are you going?"

"To watch, of course. I've been here six years this December, and this is the first week we've had guests of any sort, much less those that dance and fly kites, and now here comes a man with a card and a cane looking smart as you please, and the master has him tossed outside like so much filth? I'd wager there isn't a servant in the house without an eye to a window or an ear to a door." She paused for breath. "You want me to come back regular, and tell you what's what?"

"Yes, please." Evangeline sank onto the closest chair and dropped her head into her hands.

The maid bobbed and fled.

"That," Susan said slowly, "was the oddest maid ever."

"That was Bess," Evangeline said without taking her head from her hands. "Younger sister to the enceinte parlor maid. She means well."

"Do you talk to all the servants?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Evangeline groaned into her hands. "I don't know, Susan. Do we have to discuss this?"

"What do you prefer to discuss? What you were doing alone with Lioncroft after I told you today was the day for my compromise? Or perhaps when he became such an intimate friend as to first-name you within my hearing? How intimate is intimate, Evangeline?"

This time, Evangeline lifted her head. "You say that as if you have some claim on him."

"My mother-"

"Your mother has no more claim on him than you do. When will the two of you realize that he's his own man and immune to your stratagems? He doesn't wish to marry you." Her voice rose. "He will not marry you."

"And why is that?" Susan flounced into a chair across the room. "Because he's pledged to you?"

Evangeline shook her head. "He's not pledged to anybody. Leave him be."

"If he's not pledged to anybody, then you have no more claim to him than I do. Yet you you are not leaving him be." Susan's chin lifted. "If he doesn't marry me, it will be because you got in the way." are not leaving him be." Susan's chin lifted. "If he doesn't marry me, it will be because you got in the way."

"So?" Evangeline snapped. "You don't even want him."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything!"

"Marriage isn't about wanting the other person, Evangeline." Susan's voice took on a lecturing quality, as though repeating a lesson she'd learned by rote. "Marriage is about bettering your position, making alliances, moving upward. Lioncroft is my chance to escape Mother and reenter Society."

"Ha." Evangeline leaned back and crossed her arms. "What does he get from the bargain, but a disgraced scandalmonger and a crone for a mother-in-law?"

"He gets a wife worthy of his station, that's what he gets. One with education and poise and accomplishments, and the ability to manage a house of this size in a manner befitting our cla.s.s." Susan gestured toward herself then motioned at Evangeline. "What would he get from you?"

"Nothing." Evangeline glanced away and pretended she didn't care that Susan was right, was born superior, was raised to be exactly the sort of woman a gentleman of Quality would want. "He'd get nothing, because I'm not marrying him. Nor has he offered. He won't won't offer because he has no wish to marry and neither do I, so your questions are as stupid as your views on marriage. offer because he has no wish to marry and neither do I, so your questions are as stupid as your views on marriage. Ton Ton matches may be about bettering positions and bartering for upward mobility, but love matches are about caring for another person as much as you care for yourself and putting their needs and desires on a par with your own." matches may be about bettering positions and bartering for upward mobility, but love matches are about caring for another person as much as you care for yourself and putting their needs and desires on a par with your own."

Susan snorted. "Balderdash. You've been reading too many novels."

"And you've been listening to your mother too much," Evangeline returned.

They were still glaring at each other from opposite sides of the room when the maid burst back in.

"I can't stay long," she warned, "because I think it's going to come to fisticuffs at any moment and I shan't miss that, that, but what has happened so far is this: After my master had the handsome gentleman shown out to the porch-" but what has happened so far is this: After my master had the handsome gentleman shown out to the porch-"

Susan started. "Handsome?"

"They're both right handsome, my lady, but as I don't know the name of the one with the light blue eyes, he's to be 'the handsome gentleman,' while the other is to be 'my master,' for the sake of storytelling. In any case, the handsome gentleman is waiting on the porch as pretty as you please until my master comes around the corner-for he was out-of-doors, as you know-and says, 'Why are you here?' Just like that, with no polite words of greeting at all. And the handsome gentleman says, 'Are you Lioncroft?' And my master says-"

"Bess," Evangeline interrupted. "The main points, if you please."

"Right. So my master lounges against a column in that way that he's got-where he looks like he's relaxed, but really you see he could pounce on you at any moment-and he says to the handsome gentleman, 'I told you not to come here.' And the handsome gentleman says, 'No, what you said was that you'd send my property onto me when you was done with her-' Oh, good Lord, my lady, are you quite all right?"

"I'm fine," Evangeline managed. "Pray continue."

Bess hesitated for only a second. "Well, once he says he came to see if my master could be trusted, I thought there'd be brawling right then and there, but my master just smiles as if to say, of course, he can't be trusted, and he pushes off from the column and kind of prowls closer to the handsome gentleman who, to his credit, doesn't back up none, although he did glance around s.h.i.+fty-eyed for a moment as if taking careful note of the paths to escape. So my master says, 'What property is that?' and you'll never believe what the handsome gentleman said in return."

Evangeline slumped back in her chair. "Let me guess. Me."

"Just so," the maid crowed. "That's just what he said. And my master says, 'She's not here,' which is as bold a lie as any, since you're sitting right afore me, and the handsome gentleman says, 'That's right odd, as I got a letter from you and a letter from the Stanton woman both yesterday, and yours said I couldn't have Evangeline yet and hers said to come straightaway and fetch her.'"

Susan made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. "My mother said that?"

Evangeline sat up straight. "But if he just got Lady Stanton's letter, how did he know I'd be here in the first place?"

"Very good, my lady." Bess nodded. "That's just what my master asked, as well. And the handsome gentleman said he'd known enough as to guess you might be wherever the Stantons were, and he checked with Lord Stanton, who said he didn't know a thing about any Pembertons but that his wife and daughter were over at Blackberry Manor for a spell, and the handsome gentleman put two and two together and come by to get you. Said he'd take you home where you belonged and chain you there if he had to, and that there wasn't a dern thing my master could do about it, as the law was the law and you was the handsome gentleman's legal property."

Evangeline's shoulders slumped. "It's true."

Susan crossed the room and dipped to kneel before her chair. "I am sorry about the letter. I didn't know Mother would do something like that." She glanced over her shoulder at the maid. "Where is she now, do you know?"

"There's n.o.body who doesn't know. She was tearing through the guest quarters like a madwoman, looking for you near as I can tell, but I'm pretty sure as now we've got her abed or close to it. Had some idea you was with the master in the summerhouse and when neither of you was there, she got the idea you was either ruined or killed and she wasn't sure which was the worse, and my master's sister had to pour laudanum down her throat just to get her to settle down." Bess shook her head as if amused by the whole tale. "As to everyone else, they're still out back in the blackberry fields, none the wiser to your mama's hysteria or to my master and his visitor. Except the old gentleman, with the white hair and the cane. Far as I know, he's still asleep on the summerhouse floor."

"In that case..." Evangeline brushed Susan out of her way and rose to her feet. "Is there someplace we could go to overhear? You said every servant in the house was watching."

"Well..." The maid twisted her hands uncertainly. "My master's orders were for you to stay hidden in the servant quarters, my lady. He's just on the other side of that wall over there, the one with the bookcase and the big paintings. Doubt you can hear through the wall, though. Please just stay in here. Safe-like. I'll be back soon to keep you informed."

She fled the room before Evangeline had a chance to protest further.

Susan shoved up her spectacles with the back of her hand. "Are you afraid of what Lioncroft might say to your stepfather?"

"Not unless my stepfather's carrying one of his knives. He's the very soul of determination. And he owns me. I don't want Gavin to get hurt."

"I don't want either of you hurt. I..." Susan sighed. "I don't want to fight with you. I want us to be friends."

"I'd like to be friends, too," Evangeline said after a moment, "but a good portion of that depends on whether or not I'm returned to my stepfather."

She strode over to the far wall and pressed her ear against the smooth paper. Bess was right. Nothing. So much for listening through walls. Unless...She sprinted to the bookcase and jerked books from every shelf.

"Evangeline!" came Susan's startled voice. "What the d.i.c.kens are you doing?"

"Looking for something."

Susan paused. "A book?"

"A door."

Evangeline stepped back, surveyed the room. Nothing but chairs and books and paintings. Paintings! She yanked on the first frame and barely jumped to safety before the canvas crushed her toes. She tugged on the second frame more gingerly-still nothing. The third frame, however, swung toward her with a groan. Both dust and m.u.f.fled voices rolled out from the wall's dank interior.

"Bring me a chair," Evangeline hissed.

"A what? Did you just open the wall? wall? How did you do that?" How did you do that?"

"A chair," Evangeline repeated. "We've got to prop the pa.s.sageway open so we don't get trapped inside. Trust me."

Susan dashed for a chair. Within moments, they had the access panel propped wide and two more chairs stuffed inside the pa.s.sageway. When they climbed atop the seat cus.h.i.+ons, Susan was still the only one tall enough to peek through the porthole-shaped window high up on the wall. Words, however, filtered through.

"I told you," came Mr. Lioncroft's low, steady voice. "She's not here."

"You're lying. She's mine and I want her."

"You dare accuse me of lying?"

"I'll accuse any liar of lying. I know how valuable the little b.i.t.c.h is. One touch and-Ow! d.a.m.n you! I ought to-G.o.ddammit!"

Scuffling sounds ensued. Evangeline elbowed Susan in the ribs.

"Oh," she whispered, tearing her gaze away from the porthole long enough to cast Evangeline a chagrined grimace. "Sorry. Lioncroft planted him a facer. Your stepfather tried to return the favor, but Lioncroft ducked and your stepfather ended up striking the column. He's got a b.l.o.o.d.y hand and what'll probably be a black eye, and now they're scowling at each other from opposite sides of the porch."

"Not that kind of touch," came Neal Pemberton's voice at last. "Although she's old enough for me to break her in, now that her mother's gone."

More scuffling.

"Another facer," Susan confirmed. "He's going to look like a racc.o.o.n. Now Lioncroft's got him by the neck. He's turning purple."

"She gets visions," Neal blurted out. "She sees things. Just like her mother. That's a useful talent to possess, and she belongs to me. Don't think you can use her for yourself, if that's what you have in mind. I will summon every authority, write to every paper, thrash you myself if need be, until you hand that witch-"

Scuffling. Shattered wood. A thud. More scuffling.

"Your stepfather isn't doing very well with his thras.h.i.+ng. He got in a couple lucky jabs, but that wood breaking was Lioncroft throwing him through a bal.u.s.trade. Lioncroft tackled him before he had a chance to get up, and now-oh, no!" Susan rose even higher on her toes and stared out the window in horror.

"What?" Evangeline demanded, her skin going cold. "Tell me."

"You were right. He has a knife. He got Lioncroft in the side."

Evangeline swayed against the wall. "What?" "What?"

"Oh! One of the footmen snuck up and hit your stepfather in the head with what looks like the pink pall-mall mallet. It's got red bits now. I think he's dead."

Silence.

Once Evangeline regained her breath and her balance, she glanced up at Susan. "Really?"

"Yes. No...wait, he's breathing. Lioncroft kicked him to make sure. He's got one hand over his wound and the other hand motioning toward your stepfather's carriage. Ah, they're putting him back in. Not Lioncroft-He tried, but there's too much blood coming from his side. He keeps staggering and wincing."

Evangeline's heart stuttered. "No," she whispered.

"He's standing mostly upright again. The footmen have your stepfather stuffed in his carriage. Lioncroft's saying something to the driver. Something with a lot of hand gestures. And now they're going. Evangeline, they're going!"

Evangeline scrambled down from her chair and shot out of the pa.s.sageway and across the room.

"Evangeline," Susan shouted. "Wait for me. You know I can't find my way out!"

"Bess will show you back," Evangeline called over her shoulder as she wrenched open the door and hurtled into the hall. Gavin was hurt. Her stepfather had stabbed him. For trying to help her her.

If he died from the wound, she'd kill her stepfather herself.

Chapter Twenty-One.

The slash in Gavin's side didn't start stinging until Miss Pemberton flew out the front door, launched across the porch, and threw her arms around him. He forced himself not to flinch when her trembling arms squeezed the tender flesh above his injury. He'd never admit it to anyone if asked directly, but he'd discovered over the past week that he rather liked hugs. When there wasn't a four-inch knife wound slicing him from waist to hip.

The good news was, the cut was long but shallow. At worst, give his valet a few minutes with a needle and Gavin would be good as new.

The bad news? He and his decimated porch were soaked in blood, Miss Pemberton was squeezing his torso with rib-shattering strength, and the murmur of concerned party guests was getting louder by the second.

"Come." Gavin wrenched her from his chest, hauled her against his good side, and hustled her back indoors before the party guests caught sight of them. "You can hug me inside."

She allowed him to lace his fingers with hers and pull her across the anteroom and down the hall before glancing up at him with those wide brown eyes.

"Where are we going?"

His steps faltered. Where the h.e.l.l was he dragging her? Away from potential scandal should curious houseguests stumble upon them, yes, but aside from that...Where would n.o.body look for him?

"Yellow Salon."

Miss Pemberton listed sideways, apparently trying to walk in a straight line whilst bent at the waist inspecting his wound. "Should we send for a surgeon?"

"No surgeon. I promise to live." He smiled at her rea.s.suringly. "For now."

She did not look rea.s.sured. "But he stabbed you. There's...there's..."

"Blood?" Gavin shouldered open the door to the Yellow Salon and ushered her inside. "Nothing a needle and thread can't fix." She stopped so suddenly he tripped over her and sent them both sprawling into the back of a sofa. "What? No needles?"