Johanna Lindsey (34 page)

Giles flushed. “You really have a low opinion of me now, don’t you?”

“You noticed?”

Several hours later, Sebastian and Giles drove the mortuary wagon they’d confiscated up to the prison gate. As expected, the two guards there complained that the collection could wait until morning. The late night guards were lazy. Most of them slept through that post and didn’t like being disturbed. Surprisingly, Giles put on quite a performance of whining and insisting he’d lose his new job if he didn’t come back with the body he’d been sent for.

Sebastian would have just started bashing heads together, but as it happened, having one of the guards escort them to the infirmary saved them the time and effort of having to search for it, and got them past one other guard along the way. Unfortunately, there were four prisoners sleeping in the room where the sick were kept. No guards or medical staff there at that time of night, but their helpful escort was determined to find the body for them and started checking each occupied bed.

Locating Pierre, the fellow exclaimed, “He is not dead! What—?” Giles probably thought he was being helpful again by grabbing a tin water pitcher next to Pierre’s bed and denting it on the guard’s head. All he managed from that feat was to get them all sloshed with water, and the guard turned in his direction with an angry snarl. Sebastian didn’t appreciate the damp clothes at this time of year, but it did turn out to be helpful inasmuch as the fellow drew his pistol and pointed it at Giles, leaving his back to Sebastian. So it was an easy matter to move up behind him, wrest the pistol from him, and bash his head properly with it.

Fortunately, none of the other prisoners woke up during the commotion. The guard was dumped in the nearest empty bed to sleep off some of the headache he would have, and they quickly got Pierre onto the stretcher they’d brought in.

“What if he wakes up on the way out?” Giles questioned. “I doubt the remaining guards will think he’s had a miraculous return from the dead if he starts making noises.”

“If you didn’t feel it when you lifted him,” Sebastian replied, “he’s burning up. If he wakes up, it will be miraculous.”

“Oh, I say, you don’t think what’s killing him is contagious, do you?”

“He would have been isolated if it was,” Sebastian said simply. “And I’ll take the feet end of the stretcher. If I need to drop it to deal with anything threatening, make sure he doesn’t slide off.” Back in the hallway, the guard at the end of the passageway was diligent. He’d locked the door again after they came through it.

“Where is Jean?” he demanded, referring to the chap they were leaving behind.

Sebastian said with a shrug, “Seeing all those empty beds in there was too much temptation for him. He decided to take a little nap.”

He didn’t expect that to be a sufficient excuse, and it wasn’t. “Wait here,” the guard said and started to head toward the infirmary.

The feet end of the stretcher dropped. Sebastian’s foot tripped the man as he passed. He hit the floor, rolled, reaching for his pistol as he did. A hard right knocked his head against the floor. It took one more punch to put him out for the duration.

“How are your knuckles holding up?” Giles asked.

“There’s still some skin left on them for you,” Sebastian replied nonchalantly as he retrieved the key to open the passageway again.

“What luck!”

Sebastian almost smiled.

Outside, their lack of escort prompted the remaining guard to meet them halfway to the gate.

Sebastian didn’t give him a chance to ask where his friend was. The stretcher dropped again.

“This was too easy,” Giles remarked as they put Pierre in the wagon they’d left outside the gate.

“It wasn’t a normal prison.”

“There are different kinds?”

“According to John, who got a look at the records in Paris, no killers ever get sent here, which was why there weren’t that many guards, even in the daytime. No high risk, fewer guards needed, and a much more relaxed routine.”

“You could have mentioned that sooner,” Giles mumbled and got the wagon moving back to the mortuary, where John was waiting for them with a coach.

“Why? So you could treat this as a lark without risk? There was still risk, and it’s not over yet.

We still have to vacate this area before one of those guards wakes up. And hope Pierre survives the trip.”

“We’re a long way from that ruins you call home,” Giles mentioned. “As it happens, I believe my farm is only a few hours from here. I could be wrong. I’ve never traveled this far east on the coast. Didn’

t know this place was here. But I have been to Paris before and we did take the same road south to get here that I use to get home.”

“So?”

“So my son’s tutor is a retired doctor,” Giles said. “Or were you planning on nursing a dying man back to health yourself?”

“Lead the way. I just want answers from him. He’s welcome to die after I have them.”
Chapter 52

W
HAT ABOUT THE PINK TULLE?” Edna asked as she rifled through Margaret’s wardrobe for a dress to replace her riding habit.

“I’d prefer something dark. I suppose my mourning clothes are packed away?”

“Of course they are,” Edna replied. “You aren’t in mourning.”

“Odd, it certainly feels as if I am,” Margaret remarked with a sigh.

“I take it your morning ride didn’t cheer you up?” Edna guessed.

“Was it supposed to?”

“Well, it used to.” Edna huffed, then, “What about this beige batiste with the—?” Margaret gave her maid a few moments to finish the description, then glanced behind her to see why she hadn’t, and caught sight of Edna scurrying out the door—around Sebastian. She went very still.

She was struck with an unseemly giddiness over his presence, such joy, when she’d thought she’d never see him again, at least not in England, and certainly not this soon, a mere two weeks after he’d left.

She’d already concluded that she would see him again, though. Even if she had to spend years tracking him down, she was going to find him just to tell him—well, she hadn’t got that far ahead in her resolve yet.

Which was too bad, since there he stood, and she wasn’t sure what to say to him, bowled over as she was, other than to wonder aloud, “Did you leave something behind that you need to retrieve?”

“Yes.”

How bloody disappointing! But she didn’t have time to feel it. As soon as he said it, he began crossing the room toward her in a determined manner, and she simply didn’t know what to think until he reached her and immediately pulled her into his arms and began kissing her like a starving man.

Well! That wasn’t disappointing a’tall! In fact, it satisfied the urge that she’d had to fly into his arms. She’d been starving, too, apparently, for the sight of him, the taste of him.

She’d been standing next to her bed while changing her clothes, which made it too easy for Sebastian to drag her onto it with him. His knee thrust between her legs, her chemisette was yanked down. He buried his face between her breasts, breathing deeply.

“God, I’ve missed the smell of you, the taste—”

“You aren’t going to embarrass me with lusty words, are you?” she hurriedly interrupted.

He leaned up and actually grinned at her. “Would it embarrass you?” She didn’t have the heart to tell him yes when he was grinning like that. “Possibly not.”

“That’s what I thought. But I’ll compromise,” he said and licked a path to her ear. “Did you start getting that divorce yet?”

The shivers his tongue was causing prevented her from thinking clearly, or she would have been highly disturbed by that subject. She did manage to get out, “not yet.”

“Then what would you think about not getting one, Maggie?” She was shocked speechless. He added, “That was as close as I’m getting to asking for your hand.” He seemed to have gone very still himself, waiting for her response, while she was having trouble dealing with that much happiness dropped on her all at once.

“What would you think about closing the door?” she finally got out.

He glanced over his shoulder to see he’d left it open. She added, “That’s as close as I’m getting to saying yes.”

His gaze dropped back to hers. It was there, what she’d seen only once before in his eyes when he looked at her. Tenderness, and so much of it, her breath caught in her chest.

“Are you going to tell me you love me?” she asked.

“I’m thinking about it.”

She gasped, sputtered. He laughed and kissed her really deeply, then shot off the bed to slam the door shut. He tore out of his coat and shirt on the way back.

“While I had no doubt—” he began.

“Course you didn’t.”

“I’m bloody well glad that you love me, Maggie.”

“Don’t need to hear me say it, eh?”

“No, no more than you do, though if you feel like saying it, I won’t try to stop you.” She laughed. “Course I do, you dratted man.”

He rejoined her on the bed, gathered her close. His kiss was exquisitely gentle but quickly turned remarkably passionate, kindling the fire between them. Amazing how easily he could do that.

“God, Maggie, I never thought I would ever feel this kind of happiness again. I do love you, m’

dear, more than I thought possible to love anyone.”

She could make him even happier, she realized, and said, “I should mention—”

“It can wait,” he replied, stripping them quickly of the rest of their clothing between his kisses.

“We’ve an appointment at Edgewood, but that can wait, too. Everything will have to wait—on this.” He entered her as he said it, catching her gasp of pleasure with his mouth. That “appointment” at Edgewood might have stirred an inkling of curiosity in her, but he was quite right. That and everything else could wait.

M
ARGARET HAD NEVER BEEN SO RUSHED in all her life. Not during the lovemaking. Oh, no, that had been sublimely paced, well, actually, the extent of her passion had dictated a rather swift conclusion that caused her a few blushes afterward. Nothing could have slowed that down, however, when they were both so hungry for each other.

But while she’d wanted to lie there and savor what had just occurred, Sebastian mumbled something under his breath and to her. “There wasn’t time for this. I rode ahead, but we’re still going to be late. Hurry.”

She tried, she really did, but not knowing what the urgency was about, she couldn’t muster the haste he wanted. “If you could just sum up in a single statement what—”

“No, you’d have a hundred questions when there’s no time for any. Besides, you’ll have all those answers shortly, so hurry!”

He was putting on his clothes nearly as fast as he’d removed them. He ended up helping her with hers, getting her back into the sapphire riding habit since it was closest at hand on the foot of her bed.

But one button wasn’t aligned and she had no stockings on under her boots when he was dragging her out the door!

He’d already told someone to bring her horse back from the stable. Now that was disappointing.

She’d thought she’d at least have an opportunity to get something out of him during the coach ride, but galloping across the fields allowed for no conversation of any sort.

By the time Edgewood was in sight, she was lagging behind. A coach was seen moving up the drive. Sebastian still didn’t stop until he was at the front door. He did wait for her there, though, and helped her dismount.

“We’re in time, after all,” he told her. “Surprising after that delay you caused us.”

“Me!” she sputtered. “I didn’t pounce on you, you dratted man.”

“But you wanted to.”

“Beside the point,” she said with a snort.

He smiled and caressed her cheek. “I promise, the next time we’re in your bed, you won’t be leaving it for hours, possibly days.”

Margaret blushed furiously because that coach had stopped behind them and John and Timothy could have heard what Sebastian had just said as they alighted from it. They gave no indication, though, as they both greeted her warmly. And she was then distracted by the others who stepped down from the coach after them, three men, two of them somewhat official looking, wearing caps similar to those she had seen on French gendarmes.

Someone else was still in the coach, a mere shadow, but Henry had already opened the front door and was saying, “Welcome back, sir. The family is having luncheon.”

“All of them?” Sebastian asked.

“For a change, yes.”

“Splendid. No need to announce us.”

Sebastian took Margaret’s arm and escorted her straight to the dining room. The others followed.

Without a word, he pulled out a chair for her, sat her down, then took the chair next to her.

Timothy went straight to Abigail and gave her a hug. The old girl beamed. Margaret understood now why Abigail had still been moping, even though she’d finally made up with Douglas after he’d confessed to her what he’d told Margaret. She’d grown quite fond of Timothy while he’d been there.

John had moved to stand by the door to the kitchen. One of the other men moved to the French doors that faced the back lawn. The other two waited by the hall door. It quickly became apparent that all exits were being blocked, it just wasn’t apparent why.

Douglas stood up and demanded, “What’s going on?”

“A housecleaning,” Sebastian replied. “Long overdue.”

“I’ll need a better answer than that.”

“Certainly, and you’ll have it. But let’s get rid of the rubbish first.” And he nodded toward Juliette.

Margaret only glanced at the Frenchwoman now and saw that she’d turned a sickly white as she stared at one of the men by the door. Another had come up behind her chair and was reading from a long list of charges before he placed her under arrest and escorted her from the room. She went without a word. No hysterics, no shouted expletives, none of the dramatics she was known for. For once, Juliette was completely cowed, and it was due to the man she’d been staring at the entire time.