Rogues Gallery (38 page)

Gabriel pulled Marisa to a safe distance from where Edmund and Jamie fought with such fury. It was impossible to tell who was who in the melee, for the billowing dust concealed their identities too well.

His heart in his throat, Gabriel could do nothing at that moment, yet he knew Jamie would have it no other way. The man had waited fifteen long years to avenge his sister's death, and Gabriel would not deprive him of that. He tightened his arms around Marisa and they both watched the bloody tableau.

The fighters' entwined bodies hurled close to Eclipse. The skittish horse danced away. Edmund and Jamie tore at each other again, and in the next instant Edmund shoved Jamie into the path of Eclipse's hooves.

"Jamie!" Marisa gasped, her hand outstretched as if to help him.

Startled by her cry, he looked up in time to see Eclipse rear back. He rolled out of the way of the flailing animal. Eclipse's forelegs trampled the ground, whinnying as if hell-bent on ridding the world of Edmund's evil. But Marisa's warning had alerted Edmund, and he scrambled away, his arms flung over his head. Davy rushed to Jamie's side, helping the older man to his feet.

"Edmund, it is over," Gabriel said. "Justice can be denied no longer. You must tell your story to the authorities."

Edmund stood up, brushing the dust from his clothes as if he had merely taken an unfortunate spill from the horse's back. "Who will believe such a tale, Gabriel? Even I find it quite fantastical at times, and I am the one behind it all."

"I can tell the authorities how you killed my parents, and tried to strangle me to death."

"Obviously you are not so naive to think you have any credibility." Edmund shook his head, tsking as if Gabriel were still a ten-year-old child. "How I wish I had killed you that day, for you have caused me a great deal of strain these past weeks. So, confess my crimes? Gladly. For I know I can recant later, explaining my nerves were overset at the jilting I suffered from your doxy."

Gabriel clenched his jaw. Could Edmund elude justice this easily?

"What, Gabriel? No glib response? Pity. I had expected more from you." Edmund's laugh was filled with derision as he continued setting his clothes to rights. "How difficult it must be for a notorious highwayman to convince the magistrate that I am the criminal." He glanced with disdain to the loyal band of rogues surrounding Gabriel. "You know that none will believe the word of any of these miscreants."

"They will believe me," Marisa cried out. "I have proof of Gabriel's birthright." The miniature portrait ring dangled on a filigree chain, tucked in her bodice. Gabriel embraced her, overjoyed at her constant show of love, and her intent to clear his name despite the obstacles.

Edmund curled his lip. He walked toward Eclipse and attempted to wrest the animal's reins from Gilbey's hands, unconcerned by the turn of events. The lad refused to relinquish the reins, and Eclipse danced to the side once more.

Edmund snorted his exasperation, rolling his eyes at the same time.

"There is no reason for them to doubt my word."

Everyone turned to see the cleric stroll into their midst, his expression one of horror. "I have heard, from your own lips, the vile deeds you have committed." He gestured to the group hanging on his every utterance. "I have no doubt they will be able to provide me with the rest of the details of your crimes."

Edmund faltered, unable to refute this last accuser, the very one he had summoned to perform his wedding. Gabriel's heart beat with hopefulness for the first time in decades.

"Come, Edmund," Gabriel urged. "You cannot escape justice any longer."

"Are you so certain, nephew?"

Edmund pinned Gabriel with his gaze, but Gabriel refused to waver under the scrutiny. He knew Edmund's reign of terror was at an end. He had only to convince Edmund of it.

A flicker of movement behind him caught his eye. To his amazement, the magistrate and the constable stood there, with Daphne next to them, her expression triumphant despite her battered appearance.

"It is done," Gabriel said, relief coursing through his veins. He continued to embrace Marisa, kissing the top of her head, gratified that his quest for justice was at an end, and Marisa's safety was assured.

"Yes, Gabriel, it is done," Edmund agreed, a frown appearing on his lips. "Despite all of my heroic efforts."

Gabriel watched with Marisa as the magistrate directed the constable to secure Edmund before he was transported to the gaol. The constable nodded and turned to one of his men, asking him to fetch some rope to tie Edmund's hands.

In the next instant, Edmund grabbed the constable's pistol.

"No!" Gabriel cried out, spinning away, his only instinct to protect Marisa. He pressed her face into his chest a moment before Edmund pulled the trigger.

Gabriel tiptoed toward the tester bed, adjusting the bundle in his arms. Before the sleeping angel in the bed could react, he clamped a gentle hand over her mouth. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You shall not come to harm at my hand if you cooperate. Ouch!"

Marisa stifled a giggle while Gabriel tried to pry his long hair loose from his infant son's clenched fists. Marisa sat up in the bed and held out her arms. The diversionary maneuver was successful, for the young babe discarded his father's tresses and leaned forward for his mother's embrace.

Once the babe was snuggled at her breast, Gabriel sat down on the bed, drawing Marisa and the child close to his side. He exhaled a deep sigh of contentment.

"'Tis a shame you were forced to retire Lord Midnight," Marisa teased. "So domesticated you've become. I knew in an instant who was creeping into the room."

Gabriel looked at her twinkling eyes before responding in a merry brogue, "And wasn't it you always tellin' me I should choose another profession."

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"Gilbey tells me we are no longer the latest nine days' wonder," she said.

Gabriel pretended to pout. "I rather liked all the speculation, actually. It almost seemed no one wanted to believe I had returned from a fifteen-year jaunt around the world to reassure my uncle I had not died as rumored. Only before I could provide him with such good news, I had seen his betrothed, fallen madly in love, and eloped with you."

"It does have its fantastical aspects," Marisa reminded him.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "All except the falling madly in love and eloping portion."

"Then when it seemed the tale could not be any stranger, tragedy struck," she said, "when Edmund died in a hunting accident—"

"Although his death coincided with the disappearance of the highwayman bearing a marked resemblance to him—"

"Leaving the
ton
not quite certain as to his true nature."

Gabriel twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "I cannot believe Society has found something more intriguing than that."

"Only because they are unaware of the rogues' gallery which resides here," Marisa laughed. "Though I confess I am amazed at how well they have adjusted to working on the estate. You are certain they do not miss robbing coaches?"

"Quite certain. Gilbey is content with his new responsibilities as head groom."

"Daphne cannot sing his praises enough. Some days I long to cover my ears to avoid hearing one more lovesick utterance about him."

"Jamie is much the same about your aunt," Gabriel said with a mock grimace. "Marriage has made him almost unrecognizable. He never smiled so much when we were brigands."

"Perhaps Bernard will do his part to bring infamy our direction again."

Gabriel rolled his eyes heavenward.

"You must have felt some generosity toward him," Marisa retorted, "or you would not have given him the diamond necklace."

"I instructed him he was to start a new life elsewhere. As far from here as possible," he grumbled. "I cannot like that he aligned himself with Edmund, to your detriment."

"I know," Marisa said. "It is why I cannot be at all sad that Edmund killed himself. I suppose that is wicked of me, but he tried to kill you, Gabriel, and he would have stolen your very soul."

He kissed her before gazing with awe once more at their son. His eyes grew moist as he caressed young James' downy head with one light finger. "But you proved my salvation, angel."

She placed a trembling hand to his cheek. "You were mine as well," she said simply. "I had never known I could love you so much."

Gabriel turned his head and pressed a kiss deep into her palm. He could not believe the riches bestowed on him when he had expected so little from life. When he could speak, he gazed into her eyes and repeated the words he would never grow tired of saying.

"I love you, Mistress Angel. How I do love you."

The End

The Curse of True Love Series

When Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, plays matchmaker, true love can seem like a curse. . .

~~He was late to his own wedding~~

S
imon is known as Lord Rakehell, so any sane woman would be wary of wedding a man of his reputation. He truly loves Georgiana, and is determined to prove it to her, but how can he convince her after his wedding-day blunder?

~~She was heartbroken by the scandal~~

Georgiana knew the dangers of falling instantly in love with a celebrated rake, but even she had not expected him to show up for their nuptials with ladies-of-the-evening in tow. Now she must determine whether Simon's protestations of love are genuine, or if she is being led astray by the passion he continues to incite in her.

Mount Olympus, 1811

"I'm bored." Aphrodite stared at her fingernails, and then wondered why she bothered. They were perfect. She was a goddess after all.

But the unending flawlessness of her world filled her with
ennui
. The perpetual blue skies and breathtaking vista of her mountaintop palace had once brought her great joy, though now. . . She stifled a yawn. Even the daily ambrosia and nectar had become tiresome.

"I need a diversion."

"We could devise a way to torment the mortals," Ares suggested.

"I suppose," she said, admiring the handsome god in his toga and sandals. She had to admit she never grew tired of
his
perfection. "It has been a few decades since we've stirred up any mayhem. What do you have in mind?"

"I always like the things with curses."

There was no mistaking the bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes. Why did she have to adore someone who was her complete opposite? "And I prefer the ones with true love."

Ares frowned for a moment. "We could combine them," he said. "You know what they say about the curse of true love, and how it never runs smooth."

"I believe that is the
course
of true love," she said with a chuckle. "Our friend Mr. Shakespeare came up with that one, remember?"

He grinned. "I believe Romeo and Juliet would consider true love a curse."

"Surely we can devise something similar, only without the tragic ending."

"Curse someone with love?" Ares tilted his head. "How would that work exactly?"

He strode across the palace floor and sat down on his throne, the one he'd insisted on upholstering with. . . Aphrodite shuddered. The poor darling still could not fathom why none of the Greek cities wanted him as their patron.

If ever there were an example of mismatched lovers, it was the two of them. He lived for war and fighting, while she was devoted to love and beauty—and him.

"Of course!" Aphrodite's heart raced with excitement. "We can curse them to fall in love with someone who isn't at all right for them."

"Ahhh, like when Will had that woman fall in love with the donkey-headed gent."

"Not quite what I was contemplating, dearest." She frowned, toying with one of the earrings Ares had given her the previous evening. She did love her jewelry, but it was not enough to erase her boredom.

Surely there was some way to make this work without donkey-headed men being involved.

"I may have to go and mingle with the mortals myself," she decided. "It's fortunate that Grecian fashion is enjoying a renaissance right now." She studied Ares' attire. "Well, at least it is for women. You'd have to squeeze into breeches, and learn to tie a cravat before you could walk amongst them without causing a sensation. At least your hairstyle is
au courant
."

Ares glanced down, admiring his muscular legs. And who could blame him? He was perfect in his imperfection, which is one reason she loved him so madly.

Yes, this would be a delightful plan, almost a re-enactment of their own passionate affair. Once she had encountered Ares, it was impossible to love anyone else.

"It never goes smoothly when we get personally involved with the mortals," he reminded her.

"But that is what makes it so entertaining." She strolled towards him, enjoying the soft swish of her gown against her legs, as well as the heated look it provoked in his dark eyes.

"What happens if they resist your matchmaking scheme?" Ares asked, his voice husky with growing desire.

"Resist me?" Aphrodite chuckled as she led Ares through the great hall toward their private bedchamber. "That
is
an amusing thought."

––––––––

L
ondon, 1811

"You are a scandal! It is a wonder you dare to show your face here, after what you have done."

There was no mistaking the outrage in the high-pitched voice of Dowager Lady Thornham. Nor was it possible to avoid it, since her words echoed throughout the suddenly quiet ballroom of Lady Bleasdale's soiree.

Georgiana Kirkwood sneaked a glance at the recipient of the Dowager's outburst, and nearly laughed aloud.

The infamous Lord Rakehell was being publicly upbraided, yet instead of his typical urbane appearance, he was the very picture of an abashed schoolboy.

"I am sure you must be mistaken," he attempted.

"Do not try such nonsense with me, young man. You are notorious for shocking the
ton
. I am forced to read about your exploits in the newspapers." She rapped her fan against the sleeve of his dark blue coat. "Each and every day. I cannot abide such scandalous behavior."