It Takes a Hero (27 page)

"Most decidedly," the colonel complained. "Plied us both with liquor and then when I was incapacitated—which mind you, had never happened before—"

There was another loud "harrumph" from Rebecca.

"They stole our notes," the colonel said, "all our research, including the map I had just finished piecing together from various local legends."

"Then what happened?" Rafe asked.

"The worst thing imaginable," Rebecca said. "The lot of them went and stole the demmed thing."

The colonel huffed. "If they had bothered to read my research they would have known that they simply couldn't ride into the temple and take the ruby. But no one bothers to read the critical details."

"So did they or didn't they steal the ruby?" Rafe asked.

"Oh, they stole it," Rebecca said. "Murdered the temple scribes and pillaged more than their fare share of the place and then rode off."

"But," the colonel said, "they hadn't counted on the temple guards."

Rebecca picked up the thread and continued the story.

"We were awoken just after dawn by the shouts. Our outpost was under attack. The fools had led the temple guard right back to the outpost."

"I was still at the officer's mess, working on—"

Rebecca coughed.

"Well, perhaps I was sleeping there. It was better than returning home and having a peal rung over my head."

"To say the least," Rebecca muttered.

"Suddenly I was in charge, but luckily for us, Lieutenant Habersham was also there. He was able to rally the men and we drove the angry fellows back into the dust and hills."

Habersham?
He glanced over at Rebecca to find her cheeks rising in color and her face turned away from him. "And the trio?" he asked, holding back his curiosity about this other fellow.

"Harrington claimed that Mayne was killed, but I later found out that he had gained the ruby and continued on downriver, making for Calcutta. He'd promised Harrington and Codlin their cut if they'd just declare him dead and lost."

"But that wasn't the end of it," Rafe said.

Posthill shook his head. "We were recalled to Calcutta for an inquiry. Two other outposts were attacked as a result of the ruby being stolen. Worse still, the East India Company was losing money right and left with trade being interrupted, though they weren't about to admit any wrongdoing by Codlin and Mayne."

"And the ruby?" Rafe prodded.

"Not to be found," the colonel told him. "Richard and I began searching high and low through Calcutta for Mayne, as were Harrington and Codlin."

"But to no avail," Rebecca said. "Then Richard disappeared one night."

"Disappeared?" Rafe asked.

"Aye," the colonel said. "He heard a rumor of an Englishman trying to book passage on the sly to England, and went down to the docks to catch him."

"What happened then, we aren't too sure," Rebecca said. "But Richard later wrote us that he had managed to gain the ruby from Mayne, and had taken his place on the ship. Once here, he sent word that the ruby was well hidden."

"But you never discovered where?"

"No," Rebecca said. "The next thing we knew, he'd joined a regiment and shipped out for Spain."

"And so you two returned to England as well," Rafe said.

"Yes," the colonel said. "After the debacle with the ruby, I was given the opportunity to retire and retain my half-pay. Not that I minded. It freed my time for my studies."

"But what about the others, Harrington and Codlin?" Rafe asked.

"They were furious," Rebecca said, continuing the tale. "They were convinced we knew where the ruby was and were returning to claim it from Richard. They vowed to gain their share if we ever discovered it."

"So what happened next?"

"On our trip home, uncle was struck by a fever," she said. "He was desperately ill, ranting and raving, and everyone was so afraid of it spreading, that they left us completely alone."

"So you decided to continue the charade," Rafe said, nodding with approval. "And keep society at arm's length."

The colonel snapped his fingers. "Exactly. I was no threat to anyone if I was completely out of my mind. And as long as everyone believed I was incapable of continuing the search for the ruby, there would be no need to seek us out."

"But Harrington did," Rafe noted.

"Yes. He moved his family here about a year ago, setting himself up like a country gentleman. I think he hoped he would catch me on a lucid day and learn where the Kailash was hidden."

"So you kept him at sixes and sevens," Rafe said.

"Yes. Deuced hard. Harrington was no fool. You don't know how often I've wanted to tell him what I thought of him."

Rafe laughed. "I think you did a demmed good job last night."

"Suppose I did. If that isn't proof that the thing is cursed, I don't know what is. Harrington was a sensible enough fellow until he got hold of it, and look how he ended." The colonel shook his head. "When we find it, it is going back where it belongs."

"Uncle—" Rebecca's voice rang with a warning.

"Not another word, Bex. That dashed thing has wreaked enough havoc. It is going back to the safety of the temple and that is the end of it."

"You mean to return it?" Rafe asked, looking from the colonel to Rebecca.

She nodded, albeit reluctantly, for her uncle's sake. However, the moment he glanced away, she shook her head and mouthed an emphatic,
No
.

"So if you have avoided society, why is it that you are so eager to go to London?" he asked. "It certainly isn't discreet to go to town and make a showy Season."

The colonel and Rebecca exchanged glances that spoke more than if they had shared their confidence out loud.

"The ruby is in London?" he asked. If it were in London, then the killer wouldn't be far behind, and then it would be easy to set a trap and…

But Rebecca and her uncle weren't all that forthcoming.

"Well, is it?" he asked.

The colonel opened his mouth to reply, but Rebecca furiously shook her head.

"There is a murderer loose," Rafe said, more to the colonel since obviously Rebecca was of another mind. Demmit, why wouldn't she trust him?

Perhaps because you kiss her senseless one moment, and suggest she go to town to find a husband the next…

"I mean to catch this villain," Rafe told them, ignoring the other conflicts he was battling. "Will you or won't you help me bring him to justice?"

"Of course we will help you," the colonel said. "In fact—"

"Oh, no you don't," Rebecca burst out. "Don't tell him another thing."

"Why ever not?" Rafe and the colonel asked at the same time.

"The reward," she said in an aside to her uncle.

"Ah, yes. The money." The colonel let out a long suffering sigh and then shrugged at Rafe.

Rebecca's gaze narrowed like a seasoned gamester. "Half."

"Half of what?" he asked.

"Half of the reward that the Company is offering for helping you find this fiend."

So this is what it was all about. The reward. Rebecca wasn't just a practical minx, but a bloody mercenary. Though he had to admire her brass and audacity—for he'd do the same thing—but half? Was she out of her mind?

"No," he told her.

"No?" she asked.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "No. That reward is mine." Besides, once he got done reconciling his outstanding debts, putting a sum away for Cochrane, there would barely be half left.

Not to mention that he'd started considering putting some of the Company's money to work on Bettlesfield Park. Fix it up a bit in case he decided to keep it.

Rebecca rose and crossed the room to the study door, opening it and pointing at the hall. "Then good day, sir. We've given you enough free advice."

The colonel looked ready to say something, but she shot him a hot glance and he snapped his mouth shut and gave Rafe another sympathetic shrug.

"Why of all the high-handed, blackmailing—" Rafe spat out.

"Do you really want to discuss high-handed methods?"

Demmit, it wasn't like he'd twisted her arm or anything remotely high-handed. Why he'd offered her a fair trade to quit writing and she'd agreed to it.

Despite his moral indignation, a twinge of guilt rifled down his spine. For he knew the truth—she'd had no choice.

She stood in the doorway, staring at him, unblinking.

Her brother and uncle should have let her play that fateful game of chance. They would have had no need to go chasing fortunes—Rebecca would have cleaned out the lot of them.

But now she was gambling with her life, though you couldn't tell that from her steady, unwavering gaze. Azure eyes capable of piercing his very soul.

Dios
, the woman was going to be the end of him. And damn her, she knew he'd capitulate. Knew he was as determined to catch the killer and claim the reward with a steely determination so very like her own.

She knew him better than he did himself, for she was willing to bet that he wouldn't leave her unprotected.

And demmit if she wasn't right.

"Fine," he said. "Ten percent."

She laughed, and the twinkle in her eyes told him she knew only too well she had him on tenterhooks.

"Twenty five," he said, regretting the offer even as he made it.

She yawned and glanced down at her nails.

"Thirty five," he said through gritted teeth. That would still leave just enough for his debts and Cochrane's share.

"Done," she told him. "And we get to keep the ruby."

"Thieving wench," he muttered.

"Foolish man," she replied. "I would have settled for fifteen."

«
^
»

It is said that by traveling one will gain a thorough understanding of the world. But no matter how many miles you traverse, I don't think it's possible to gain an inkling of the mysteries that lurk in a man's heart.

Miss Darby to Miss Cecilia Overton

in
Miss Darby's Perilous Journey

W
ith the deal struck, Rebecca and the colonel told Rafe everything they knew, including their carefully thought out plans to locate Lt. Purcell without drawing too much attention to themselves.

Of course, he objected to everything they wanted to do, stomping around the library and casting his orders out as if he were in charge. Did he truly think she and the colonel had survived this long by sheer luck?

And though she had seethed inside, Rebecca smiled and let him think that she was going to sit idly by while he risked his life to stop the killer.

And find
her
ruby.

Just before darkness fell, Cochrane had arrived with Lady Tottley's reply. The countess's letter had been full of bluster but eventually she'd acquiesced to the offer.

Cochrane, done with his duties, hurried on to Finch Manor for a promised dinner of beef pies.

Rebecca had been sent upstairs to finish her packing, and had gone, albeit reluctantly, for she knew it was futile to protest. Rafe was determined to keep her well out of harm's way, and she was willing to let him think that he was in charge. So she'd left the pair of them to their plotting, while she put the time to good use putting the finishing touches on her own plans.

With the door to her room open, she could hear the pair of them discussing strategies for finding the elusive Lt. Purcell. If they had bothered to ask her, she would have provided a fine list she'd already compiled on the man's previous residences and acquaintances.

She looked down at the gown she had just crumpled into a ball instead of carefully folding and shook it out. Well, it was patently unfair of them not to include her.

Downstairs, she heard her uncle bidding Rafe a good night. Oh, that was the other part of her vexation. He had announced he was spending the night, muttering something about seeing his interests safeguarded.

Spending the night under their roof? Sleeping just downstairs in the library… a handful of steps from…

Rebecca picked up a pair of slippers and dropped them atop the rest of her jumbled packing. Truthfully, she was ever so thankful to have him in the house. Not that she was going to tell him that.

No, having him here meant her uncle would live to see another day. She didn't imagine any killer, no matter how ruthless, no matter how strong, would stand a chance against Rafe Danvers.

The man's utter mien spoke of unforgiving strength and competence. She'd been in the company of enough officers and soldiers during her tenure in India to know the difference between a man who could stand to the challenge, and those who fled in the face of adversity.

Rafe Danvers stood his ground. She admired such courage, but did he always have to stand his ground against her? Stop, when she wanted him to kiss her until she was senseless, until she understood the whispering need that he left in his skillful wake.

Actually it was his contradictions that had her in such a muddle.

Instead of hearing Rafe make dull statements about "safeguarding his interests," why couldn't he make the declarations her heart longed to hear?

I will not let you risk your life, Miss Tate, for you are more precious to me than life itself.

She paused for a moment in her packing and considered writing that line down for her next
Miss Darby
novel. She was halfway to her desk when she recalled she wasn't supposed to be writing.

"Botheration!" she muttered, flopping down on the corner of her bed. Give up writing, indeed. Who did this Lady Tottley think she was demanding that Rebecca disavow her livelihood? And what about Rafe? What would he say if someone told him to give up his dangerous profession?

He'd fight to the end of his days for his independence, yet take away hers without a second thought, the infuriating rogue.

Her uncle came up the stairs just then, ambling down the hall to his chamber. "Good night to you, Bex," he called as he strolled past.

"Good night, uncle," she replied as she rose to close her door and make her own evening ablutions.

Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she wondered why it was Rafe called her a "thieving wench" and a "bluestocking" one moment, then arrived today like a knight errant, making his stormy demands to her confused heart?