To Capture a Rake

by Lori Brighton

“Call the magistrate.” He focused on his anger, preferring the emotion to the worry that was digging its icy claws into his body. “Something has to be done.”

  Elizabeth shook her head, her lower lip quivering. “You think I have not been searching for proof? Mr. Smith—”

  “Damn Mr. Smith to hell!”

  Cally flinched, adding to his guilt. Blast it, he was tired of the man. Annoyed by the fact that Elizabeth seemed to take his word as God’s. But mostly he was angry that people like the dowager could get away with murder because of their station.

  He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “How do you know you can trust him?”

  Elizabeth was saved from answering by a soft knock. Gideon reached the door first.

  “My lady.” Will stepped into the room, his young face full of worry and unease. The entire house pulsed with sorrow, as if already in mourning. “We found these under his bed.” He held out a plate of cookies. “There was a mouse next to the dish…dead.”

  Elizabeth surged for the plate, only to drop the dish, the porcelain cracking in two and the cookies tumbling to the carpet. “Where did they come from?”

  “We don’t know.” Will settled on his knees, nervously gathering the debris. “Cook swears she never gave them to Henry. No one knows.”

  He saw the look of pure rage that crossed her face. They both knew who had given Henry the poisoned treats. Her hands curled like claws, her breath coming out in harsh gasps. But Gideon wouldn’t let her throw her life away on bitterness. No, if anyone was going to kill the bitch, he would. After all, he had nothing to lose.

  “Mama,” Henry’s raspy voice called out. “I want water.”

  Just like that the anger fell from her face and her body softened. Elizabeth rushed to the boy’s side, slipping her arm underneath his shoulders and lifting him enough to press a glass of water to his parched lips.

  “A mere sip,” she whispered, her voice catching with emotion. “That’s a good boy.”

  Mouse jumped from her chair and climbed onto the bed beside them. They were a family, the three, and he knew they could not survive without each other. Elizabeth settled Henry back onto the bed, and the poor lad closed his eyes as if merely taking a drink had exhausted him.

  Somehow these people had imprinted upon his heart, his soul, whether he wanted them there or not. They had become the closest thing he had to a life. He couldn’t let the anger and need for revenge ruin Elizabeth as it had ruined him.

  He knew in that moment what had to be done. Gideon spun around and moved across the room with determined strides. The dowager might hold some sort of power over this family, but she held nothing over him. He could so easily take care of the woman and dispose of the body without a second thought. He could save Elizabeth the heartache he’d endured. He tore open the door and made his way into the hall.

  “She’s not in her bedchamber,” Will said, running after him. The boy’s jaw was clenched in an anger that Gideon could appreciate. “If I wasn’t afraid of getting Elizabeth in trouble, I’d see the witch hang meself.”

  “Where is she?”

  “The portrait gallery, of course.”

  Gideon started down the hall, determination his guide. Below he could hear the soft clatter of maids starting fires, but the house held the stillness of a wake. The soft grayness of morning tiptoed through the windows like a thief, intent on stealing away their day.

  “Try not to kill her,” Will said, keeping step with him. “Or you’ll end up hanging.”

  At the moment he didn’t care. If he killed the woman, he would end up in prison, aye, but it was where he belonged and at least Elizabeth would be safe. Perhaps, just perhaps, the children could grow up to have long, happy lives.

  Will’s hand rested on his shoulder. “Elizabeth needs you.”

  Gideon shrugged off the boy’s hold and started toward the gallery, leaving the lad behind. Elizabeth didn’t need a whore; she needed freedom from the very woman who had been giving her nightmares for years. He found the dowager in the dimly lit gallery, looking over her son’s portrait, which was now hanging upon the wall, the landscape gone.

  The gas lamps had been lit and glowed eerily, highlighting the soft roundness of her face, making her look even more matronly. With a sigh she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. As if the woman cared, as if she felt anything but bitterness and hatred. He knew better. Demons didn’t know compassion or love. She didn’t turn as he approached, although he knew she heard his footsteps, for he didn’t bother to quiet them.

  “Should you not be lounging uselessly in bed? Perhaps eating my son’s food and wasting his money?” she said coldly.

  Gideon paused next to her, his hands curling as he resisted the urge to reach out and wrap his hands around her pale neck. “Did you give Henry the cookies?”

  She glanced distastefully at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “When Henry awakes, and he will”—Gideon stepped closer to her and found some satisfaction when she shrank back—“he will tell us where the cookies came from. If your name is mentioned, I will kill you myself.”

  She straightened her spine, her shoulders thrown back. Aye, she feigned indifference, but he read the fear in her eyes. “How dare you, a man of no consequence, threaten me.”

  A furious swell of emotion almost choked him. “I’ll do much, much more than that should anyone in this household ever be harmed again.”

  She frowned, as if confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I refuse to stand here and listen to your threats.” She started past him, a look of disdain upon her wrinkled face.

  Gideon stepped in front of her, blocking her exit. She knew this was the end of her reign, he saw the terror upon her pale face. For the first time someone was fighting back, someone bigger, someone stronger, someone more evil. “You, my lady, are leaving.”

  She clutched her black skirts and stumbled back a step, her jowls quivering with nerves and indignation. “You can’t tell me to leave my own home!”

  Gideon reached forward, grabbing the collar of her bodice and jerking her forward. Hatred thrummed through his body. “This is Henry’s home. You will go to your room, pack your things, and you, your companion, and your son will leave. Now.”

  Her face went deathly white. He doubted the woman had ever been threatened before. No, she did her dirty work through others. “How dare you…”

  He tightened his hold on her collar, the material digging into her throat until she gasped for air. She was all bone and soft flesh. A weakling he could so easily break. The temptation was strong…so very strong. “You have no idea what I’m capable of, and unless you leave, you’ll soon find out.”

  “Gideon,” Elizabeth called out. “Don’t.”

  His jaw clenched. The dowager’s pleading gaze left him, focusing on Elizabeth. He didn’t want to release her. The demon within urged him to do the deed and be done with it. But he could feel Elizabeth behind him, her pure presence a balm to his dark soul. With a growl, he released his hold. The old woman stumbled back, gasping for air.

  “I will leave because you have been completely and utterly offensive,” she breathed harshly, the fear still apparent in her faded gaze. “And I will not share my home with a man like you.”

  She turned and scurried from the room like a rat that had been introduced to light. Gideon released a breath of air through clenched teeth and forced himself to unclench his hands. Although the witch was leaving, he didn’t feel any easier. No, he’d only feel better when she was in Newgate or buried deep underground.

  “Gideon, they would have hanged you.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said softly, his back still to her.

  Elizabeth had hired him to protect her, and he would. It was the one thing he could do for the woman who had given him a brief taste of freedom. A life.

  “It matters to me,” she whispered.

  His heart clenched with painful longing. Slowly, Gideon turned. Sh
e leaned against a column, her lower lip quivering with an emotion he didn’t understand but so badly wanted to. Was she angry that he’d overstepped his bounds? Afraid?

  “I apologize,” he said, although he didn’t mean a word. He wanted to kill the dowager and probably would have. But he hadn’t meant to add to the burden that she already carried. “I know it’s not my place…”

  Before he could properly brace himself, she raced forward and threw her arms around his neck. Instinctively, Gideon held her, resting his face against her silky hair and breathing deeply the scent of spring flowers. Warmth enveloped him, swirled through his body, and for a moment he knew only light.

  “Thank you.” She pressed her lips to his, stunning him senseless.

  It was a quick kiss, over almost as soon as it had begun, but it was the most poignant kiss he’d ever had, and he knew he would never forget her touch. A moment later she leaned back, appreciation gleaming in her green eyes. Gideon’s chest felt tight as his heart squeezed almost painfully. She had never, ever looked at Mr. Smith like she looked at him now.

  “Thank you,” she whispered again.

  The pride upon her face nearly did him in. Without another word, she spun around and fled, leaving him standing there bemused. He knew in that moment he was dangerously close to losing control when he’d sworn to never care for anyone again.

  Bloody hell, it was time to leave.

  Chapter 14

  Elizabeth thought the sun would do Henry good, but she didn’t dare go outside. After three days of sitting in bed, the boy needed light, and so she allowed them to play in the conservatory, where the hellions were rarely allowed to frolic. And after three days her worry had faded into a blinding haze of anger and determination to see the woman pay.

  Henry had lost weight and his skin had grown pale, but he was finally starting to act like Henry. He’d made it through the worst, and now that he could rest and eat, now that Henry was well, she felt like she could actually breathe with some normalcy. Still, she couldn’t seem to look at him without feeling the sting of tears. First Cally had nearly died as a babe and now Henry? Would life ever be easy?

  “Give it back!” Cally cried out.

  Elizabeth sighed, lifting her teacup and sipping the tepid tea. Yes, Henry was definitely better, for he was already back to teasing Cally. As much as their tormenting had annoyed her in the past, now she welcomed the noise. She would take them bickering over being ill.

  The screech of the door had her dropping the teacup with a clank and slipping her hand into the hidden pocket of her skirt. She wrapped her fingers around the cold pistol and jerked her gaze toward the path that led through the indoor garden her husband had so loved.

  “They’re gone,” Will said, appearing between two planted palms.

  Elizabeth released the breath she held and pulled her hand from her pocket, forcing her fingers to relax and her pounding pulse to slow. “Good.”

  “They left the inn this morning.”

  Although the day was gloomy, the entire world seemed brighter, better in some way. Even the soft patter of rain against the glass roof and walls seemed suddenly comforting. Not one person in her entire household was sad to see her in-laws leave.

  Yes, they were gone, yet her hands still trembled as she picked up her spilled teacup and placed it upon the saucer, the rattle of china giving away her nerves. Elizabeth rested her hands atop the iron table and took in a deep breath. She didn’t dare let the children outside for fear of their safety. The fact was that Mr. Smith had been right; she knew that she had merely riled their anger. If her in-laws had hated her before, they would despise her even more now. They must find a way to prove the dowager’s guilt, and fast.

  “Ye should have seen Gideon’s face.” Will shook his head, his grin growing.

  Within a fortnight, the man had earned the respect of her entire staff. More importantly, he had earned her respect. She took in a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She’d known the moment she’d seen him fight off the highwaymen that there was more to Gideon than first appeared.

  “The man was bloody amazing.”

  Elizabeth smiled tightly. It was obvious Will worshipped him, but would they continue to support him if the truth came out about Lady Lavender’s? How she prayed she could keep the secret hidden for Gideon’s peace of mind, but she was only too aware that secrets had a way of sneaking out.

  “Never witnessed anything like it.” Will shook his head and slumped onto the iron chair next to hers. “Man looked ready to murder.”

  Although she certainly hadn’t wanted him to kill the dowager and go to prison, she had been honored that he’d been there to protect them. He could proclaim he was merely fulfilling his contract, but she had seen the emotion upon his face. Gideon had been worried, truly angry for Henry. If he didn’t have feelings for her, at least he did for the children. But would his feelings be enough?

  “He’s a right good chap, he is.” Will said the words as if he was trying to sell her cattle. “Stood there at the inn, in front of the entire town, and made sure they left, he did. The dowager was quivering in her boots, although she pretended not to be nervous.”

  “I can imagine how angry she must have been.” Elizabeth hid her smile by glancing at the children. Cally was doing her best to pluck free every red rose that grew. Yes, there was something incredibly satisfying about her mother-in-law finally knowing the same fear she’d been feeling for years.

  Will gave a hoot of laughter. “Thought he was going to toss them out on their arses.”

  Gideon deserved to live here. He deserved the title, the land more than any of them. But because of the law, it would go to Henry.

  “We’ve been talking,” Will said, and by we, she knew he meant the entire staff. “If it’s true and ye plan to marry the chap…well, we’d be all right with that.”

  Elizabeth stiffened. “Is it that obvious?”

  Will’s cheeks and ears turned red. “Well, ye aren’t one to take a man to yer bed unless it’s serious.”

  His embarrassment must have been catching, for Elizabeth could feel the heat crawling up her neck. Of course she should have assumed that the entire household knew about their affair. Couldn’t bloody well have any privacy. She rested her chin in her hand and gazed out over the sea of potted plants and brilliant flowers. What else did they know? Never mind. It didn’t matter.

  “Glad to hear it,” she muttered, lifting her cup and sipping to hide her blush.

  “Thought he was going to murder her,” Will said, chuckling.

  But Elizabeth didn’t want to discuss the dowager any longer. “Do see after the children, will you?”

  The lad nodded and strolled away, whistling a tune. Suddenly melancholy, Elizabeth stood and moved around the table and down the path. She felt restless. Agitated. She was tired of talking about death and murder. Tired of the darkness. Tired of waiting for something terrible to happen. Damn it all, she wanted to live with hope for a future, not fear of what it might bring. She wanted to…live.

  Mr. Ashton had tried to shield her from his mother’s disapproval, but the poor man certainly could have never known the extent of the woman’s evilness. She strolled to a ficus tree, running her hand over the smooth bark.

  Cally and Henry would be old enough soon to realize that their very own family had not only practically disowned them but wanted them dead. And for what? Money. All of it for money and greed and power. She clenched her jaw and looked away, feeling the sting of tears. But then again, most of the wrongs in this world were because of the need for power. And money bought power.

  But no more. No more would she hide from life. The screech of the conservatory door startled Elizabeth. As if she’d called to him, Gideon moved into the glass room, the sunlight glinting off his dark hair. He walked with intention and determination. He walked as if he owned the path, the conservatory, the entire estate.

  Her entire body responded to the man. Her pulse skipped a beat, her breath cau
ght, her eyes seemed to focus like an animal focusing on its next meal. He found her easily, and their gazes locked with an intensity that made her toes curl in her slippers. The entire world disappeared when he was near. She noticed nothing around her yet everything about him, from that lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead to the way his thigh muscles bunched under his slate-gray trousers. Even the way his lips quirked on the left side, as if he found something amusing.

  With one glance he could make her feel alive, make her feel as if she was the only female in the entire world. This man was no sinful whore; he was kind, good, caring. This man would protect them although he had no reason to. She knew as he paused in front of her, as the past couple weeks passed through her mind, it was time…time to put her next plan into action.

  “Good morning.” His gaze flickered to Henry, who was laughing as Will chased him around a ficus tree. “How is he?”

  “Good. Better, much better.” Thanks, in part, to Gideon. She swiped away an errant tear that had managed to slip down her cheek. He had saved them more than once, and she owed him not only her life but the children’s as well. She forced the corners of her mouth to lift and her thoughts to better things. “Please, sit and have tea.”

  He hesitated, almost seemed startled, as if doing something so normal was beyond comprehension. As if he’d never partaken in something as simple as tea. Or maybe it was the thought of sitting casually with a woman and not being intimate. She couldn’t put her plan into action while he loomed over her, it was too intimidating. Fortunately, he settled in the empty chair.

  “Mr. Smith is following the dowager to London. He’s going to keep an eye on them.”

  “And are you sure you can trust this Mr. Smith?”

  “Yes.” She poured him tea, then lifted the cream and glanced at him. “Milk?”

  “Yes, and two sugars.”

  How very intriguing that he liked his tea so sweet. She would have thought he’d prefer it dark and strong, like him. She was reminded of how very little she truly knew about Gideon. She knew that he portrayed himself as a hard man, but deep down he cared. And yes, she had the facts. She knew his age, his family life, where he had lived. She knew what he had done for the past fourteen years. And she knew his true identity, something not even he had uncovered. But there were so many little things she didn’t know. So many things she wished to know. What was his favorite food? What did he like to read? What did he think about at night?