Her Wicked Ways (35 page)

Norris’s chest puffed out and Fox expected the earl’s lemon yellow waistcoat to pop open. “I didn’t steal from anyone. Those people gave me money in exchange for a service.”

Fox wondered if Norris actually worked to satisfy the interests of his constituents in the district. “I have a hard time believing you would do anything that wouldn’t serve you, regardless of the money involved. Would it be difficult, do you suppose, to find a person who’s been forced to pay you? And might that person be convinced to testify against you?”

Norris’s eyes bulged and he sputtered. “No one would be so foolish. Besides, what can you hope to accomplish from in here?” The earl’s lip curled, but his eyes reflected a shade of fear.

Eager to further sow the seeds of doubt, Fox lifted a shoulder. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

A knock on the door interrupted further conversation. Norris called, “Enter.”

Stratham poked his head inside. Without looking at Fox, he addressed the earl. “You sent for me, Lord Norris?” What, no taunting remark directed at Fox? No obnoxious show of power or self-importance?

Norris picked up his lamp. “You’ll be pleased to know I’ve caught the highwayman who stole from you.”

Stratham’s widening eyes moved to Fox. “You?” His mouth continued to move, but no sound escaped.

Fox refused to admit to anything. He did, however, enjoy a measure of satisfaction at Stratham’s reaction.

The earl lumbered his corpulent frame toward Stratham. “Sleep tight, Fox. Come morning you’ll be transferred to the mayor.”

The door closed behind them, and the chill darkness of the tack room embraced Fox. He hadn’t heard the lock—maybe they’d stupidly leave him in here without securing it. He crept to the door and listened. The voices outside faded, as if Norris and Stratham were retreating to the house. Perhaps Freddie would be able to help him.

After another moment of quietly pressing his ear to the door, Fox straightened. Just as he did so, the wood pushed against him, nearly knocking him off balance. Light cascaded into the room once more and illuminated the face of Miranda’s brother. He carried a lantern with a tallow candle into the room and closed the door behind him.

Fox had a suspicion about this visit, but remained silent. Saxton set the lantern on an overturned bucket and faced Fox. The meager light of the single flame so low to the ground cast his face in eerie shadow. Nevertheless, the man’s anger was evident in the set of his chin and narrowed eyes.

“Just what in the hell is going on between you and my sister? She claims you are nothing to her, but I keep finding you in close quarters.”

Fox chose his words carefully. “Why don’t you believe her?”

He gave Fox a look that seemed to ask,
are you simple
? “Because she’s Miranda. Don’t you understand why she was banished here in the first place? She’d been cavorting around London with a group of miscreants—wealthy and even some of them titled miscreants, but fools the lot of them. I won’t bore you with the specifics, but our parents expelled her from London after she was observed on the Dark Walk at Vauxhall with a certain gentleman. I’m sure you’re well aware of what occurs on the Dark Walk so I needn’t explain.”

“Actually, I’ve never been to Vauxhall.” But Fox suspected upon hearing the tale he’d want to kill that Certain Gentleman.

“Well, then let me enlighten you. Well-respected young daughters of dukes do not take the Dark Walk with lascivious bounders interested in a bit of fluff and perhaps a large dowry. But Miranda, in all of her foolishness, not only went with this man, but engaged in a rather lurid embrace. Thankfully the witness was a close family friend, and we were able to prevent the story from leaking to London at large. It would have been an absolute calamity.”

That explained her experienced kisses. Yes, he definitely wanted to kill the Certain Gentleman. And he wanted to throttle Miranda as well. Had she no sense at all?

Saxton continued, “So you can see why I am suspicious of your relationship with my sister. It’s seems obvious to me you want her—whether for her beauty or her money, I don’t know. Not that it matters since she isn’t eligible to someone like you.”

Of all the arrogant jackasses. Fox sneered, unable to keep his anger in check. “Someone like me? What does that mean, exactly? I’m poor? Or I run an orphanage? I’m not titled? Or is it that I live here instead of your beloved London?”

Saxton’s stony stare yielded nothing. “All of those things, if you must know. If Miranda has shown you any interest, it’s because she likes a challenge, and more than that she enjoys tweaking convention. You are the worst possible gentleman for her, and so she finds some perverse pleasure in engaging your attention.”

His words sunk into Fox’s furious brain. They held a note of truth. Why else would she have kissed a stranger—a highwayman to boot? She’d been shipped to the country and at the first chance she rebelled by flirting with a highwayman, something guaranteed to shock those around her. Was it possible she’d never felt anything for him at all? That every moment they’d shared, even the night at the brothel were mere episodes of a girl playing at being a woman?

Saxton interrupted his thoughts. “I’m surprised she defended you tonight. Usually when pushed to choose propriety over her lapses in judgment, she chooses the former, but then I suppose in the end she did. You didn’t really come here to see her, as she suggested.” Though not a question, uncertainty tinged the words. Fox’s ire pounced on it.

“Would that be so hard to believe? As you pointed out, she’s beautiful and wealthy. God knows I need the money. And she does have a penchant for this highwayman, so why not sneak in wearing a mask and seduce a fanciful young girl? You said yourself she seeks such adventure so it seems a perfect plan—”

Saxton’s fist cut short Fox’s speech. He staggered backward but didn’t fall. His face throbbed. Christ, the man had a vicious swing.

Saxton moved forward again, and Fox gave in to his anger, swiping at the other man’s face. His knuckles slammed into Saxton’s cheek, just below his eye. He fell back. Both men stood glaring at each other, fists raised.

Much as Fox would appreciate an exhilarating brawl to expel his emotion, he needed to think. “I haven’t seduced her.”

Flexing his hands, Saxton paused. Even in the semi-darkness, the man’s eyes glimmered like the hard, impenetrable ice that covered the lake at Bassett Manor in January. “If I believe otherwise, we’ll finish this. I’ll call you out, and either run you through or shoot you dead. I’m equally proficient with either method.” Saxton straightened his coat. “It’s a shame, really. I rather liked you. I gather you lack funds, but to steal?” He shook his head.

Fox’s fury renewed. He wanted to pummel Saxton into oblivion. “Someone like you would never understand.”

Fox could tell him he hadn’t stolen from Norris, could tell him Norris was even now setting him up for the crime. But he doubted Saxton would believe it. Especially not now when the man clearly wanted to thrash him.

Saxton turned Fox’s words back on him. “By ‘someone like me’ you mean someone who has money?”

“And opportunity and security. Tell me, Lord Saxton, would you be able to provide for over a hundred tenants? Forty orphans? Two staffs? Do you have a legacy that requires you to work your hands to their very bones with little or no personal comfort? Do you have responsibilities that all but ensure you will never be able to pursue the things
you
might like to do? When was the last time you
didn’t
put yourself before all others? Better still, when was the last time you deprived yourself in order to serve another—and not because you had to, but because you wanted to? Make no mistake I choose this life, as difficult and capricious as it might be. What life do you choose, Lord Saxton?” Fox’s chest heaved. He took deep gulps of air to calm his thundering heart.

Saxton said nothing.

Suddenly weary, Fox sat in a rickety wooden chair set in the corner. “Just go. Please.”

Saxton stood a moment longer and then exited, pulling the door shut behind him. This time, Fox heard the lock click.

Saxton had left the lantern. Shadows danced on walls covered with saddles, reins, and all manner of tack supplies. Fox gazed into the flame, his pulse finally slowing to a moderate pace for the first time since Miranda had opened the office door.

His mind worked, frantically searching for a way out of this disaster. He had to ensure Carmody didn’t identify him as the highwayman. Not that it mattered. Norris would plant money—maybe already had—in Fox’s cloak as proof he’d stolen from him tonight. That evidence along with the mask would be difficult to discount, especially when an earl would be giving testimony. If only he had something on Norris!

Fox nurtured a small hope Freddie would be able to help him. A hope that faltered when no one came to the door, and diminished with the dark silence of each passing hour. Still, he clung to it, because he had nothing else.

Chapter Seventeen

MIRANDA suffered through the remainder of the evening knowing Fox was locked in the stable. So close, but absolutely untouchable.

When Jasper rejoined the party, he glowered at her across the room. She did her best to avoid him, but now as the festivities drew to a close, he caged her in a corner of the drawing room. “I’m not comfortable with you staying here tonight.”

Lord Septon had asked for Miranda to stay at Cosgrove so they could have breakfast in the morning and perhaps go for a ride afterward. Jasper frowned at her. “You should come with me to Stratham Hall.”

Miranda shook her head. “No, I have plans in the morning with Septon. We’re to go riding. I haven’t been riding all summer, Jasper.”

“That better be the only thing you do in the stables.” He gave her his most obnoxious brotherly glare. “I’m warning you, Miranda, stay away from Foxcroft.”

“What am I going to do? Let him out and run away to Scotland with him?” The idea gave her a thrilling jolt.

His mouth pressed into a disapproving line. “This is not a situation to make light of. The man’s future is at risk. And from what I can tell, you’ve done enough to falsely encourage him. Leave him be.”

Falsely encourage him? Had Fox told him about the marriage proposal? She hadn’t encouraged that! “I haven’t done anything wrong. Fox and I are friends. Nothing more.”

His lip curled in a half-smile lacking actual amusement. “Friends don’t look at friends the way you two look at each other. You’ll keep your distance, or I’ll ship you back to Holborn in the morning.”

His observation made her flesh tingle. How did they look at each other? Fox had told her not to look at him as if she wanted to eat him. Was it her fault he’d looked so devastatingly handsome at the benefit?

“I’m going to bed.” She turned to leave but Jasper placed a staying hand on her arm.

“Maybe I should have a maid sleep on a pallet in your room.”

She swung back to face him and pulled from his touch. “Stop! I’ll stay in my room. Go away.” She fled the drawing room before he could say another word. By the time she got to the staircase, she’d calculated the time she’d need to wait while everyone settled in their rooms for the night. As she ascended, she plotted her path to the stables. When she entered her room, she could scarcely wait to leave.

An interminable two hours later, Miranda crept into the hallway. She’d pulled her riding skirt over her nightdress—which she’d donned to avoid arousing the maid’s curiosity—and topped it with the matching spencer. She didn’t look terribly appropriate, but she didn’t plan to meet anyone who would care.

Making her way down the faintly lit corridor, she wondered if Fox would be easy to find. There couldn’t be many rooms in the stable in which to lock him. Was he comfortable? Maybe she should bring him some food or water. Her half boots tapped softly against the stairs as she descended. She couldn’t risk meeting anyone in the kitchen. Sticking to her original plan, she looked around the foyer for the footman on duty. Hopefully he slept in a cupboard under the stairs.

Luckily, she saw no one. She eased open the front door and slipped outside into the cool night, pulling her spencer more tightly about her. The stables were to the left. Thankfully the drive appeared as vacant as the foyer had been. She made her way quickly along the side of the house to the end of the building. Turning, she saw the stable and doubled her pace.