She tugged on Gabriel’s sleeve. “I don’t see the Harmons.”
“Fulberg’s quick. Wave at the porter, Jane.”
“What?”
“Smile and wave at the porter to your right. He’s taken with you.”
She couldn’t begin to guess what he was on about. “What does that matter? Why—”
“Just do it.” He took her hand and gave it an urgent squeeze. “Now.”
She looked over, saw the young man in question and offered him a strained smile and stiff wave.
“Keep waving,” Gabriel instructed, releasing the hand at her side.
“He looks confused.” And well he should. A lady did not smile and wave at strange young men. “Why am I confusing the porter?”
“So he’ll remember you.”
The young man took a hesitant step forward, then stopped and looked over his shoulder, no doubt wondering if the true object of her interest was standing behind him.
The moment he looked back again, Gabriel snagged her hand and brought it down with considerable force. It didn’t hurt. His grip was gentle and controlled, but when she looked at him, his handsome features were hardened into a murderous expression.
Her mouth went dry. “What’s wrong? Why are you angry with me?”
“I’m not angry.”
“You are.” He looked ready to do her an injury. “You’refurious.”
Worse, he looked disgusted, as if he found her not only infuriating, but stupid. She knew that look. Sheloathed that look.
“Youwanted me to wave at him.” She hadn’t misheard him. She was certain of it. “You said wave at the porter, and I did. I waved at…” She tossed another quick look at the young man. “I think that might be Mrs. Banford’s son, George.” It was difficult to say. It had been at least eight years since she’d seen George Banford. He’d been little more than a boy then. Perhaps ten years of age. Which meant…Good God. “Did I just proposition a youth?”
“You didn’t proposition him. You waved.” He flicked a scowl toward the boy. “And he’s twenty if he’s a day.”
“I might as well have winked at him. And now you’re angry, and I don’t think—”
“I’m not angry, Jane. I promise. I’ll explain once we’re on board.”
“You certainly will,” she snapped. She was no longer a child to be cowed and shamed with one look, to be made to feel as if she deserved to be sneered at. She gestured at the train. “Why are we waiting?”
“We’ll board as soon as they do.” He gave a subtle dip of his head in the direction of a large group of travelers. As if on cue, the group began to shuffle toward the carriages.
Gabriel pulled her to the far side of the group, out of view of the smitten porter.
He said something to her, something she couldn’t understand amongst the cacophony all around her. It wasn’t even words she could piece through, just a jumble of nonsensical sounds.
She shook her head, hoping that would pass as a sane response. It must have, because he didn’t say anything else until he’d led her to the last private compartment at the end of the train and assisted her inside.
“Good,” he said, quickly closing the door and drawing the curtains. “I nothing they sawhorse.”
I nothing they sawhorse?
A note ring the soar us? Adult something and chorus?
Damn it. It was no good. She had no idea what he was talking about.
Fortunately, he didn’t seem interested in a reply. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to her at all. His focus was on the wall behind her. Suddenly, he stood up and bent over her, leaning in so close she could see he had unexpected flecks of gold around his irises.
“What are you doing?”
He placed the tips of his fingers above her ear, and gently nudged her head aside. “Looking for peepholes.”
Uncertain she heard him correctly, she once again resorted to shaking her head.
“Some railways installed them after the murder of Thomas Briggs,” Gabriel explained as he ran his hands over the wall. “You’ll only find them in these older carriages with no interior corridors. Nothing here,” he announced after a moment and returned to his seat.
The train lurched forward a second later, its great metal wheels grinding against the tracks.
They were leaving.
Jane curled her fingers into her palms, feeling as if her emotions were stretched between two distant poles that were moving further and further apart. Hopefully everyone had made it safely to the train. That was the most important thing.
Except that now she wason a train. She hadn’t been on a train since…
Don’t think about it. Think about something else.
She was leaving.
She folded her hands and buried them in her skirts, then squeezed them together so hard it hurt, but even that couldn’t distract her from the terrifying truth.
She wasleaving. The train was taking her away from Ardbaile, from Twillins Cottage, from her sanctuary.
A strange tingling sensation started in her hands and feet, and an uncomfortable heat rose in her chest and began to spread up to her neck. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her lungs felt squeezed tight, as if a great weight was pressing on them.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Think about the Harmons.
“Are the Harmons nearby, do you think? How can we be certain Mr. Fulberg got them to the train on time? Why must we travel separately?” The questions came out one right after the other, and she felt rather like a teapot trying to let off steam. She was desperate for distraction, even if it came in the form of conversation.
Gabriel smiled at her, but it was that rakish, solicitous smile. She didn’t like it. “We’re traveling separately to throw Kray off their trail.”
“But I don’t know this Mr. Fulberg watching them. They’re in danger and I don’t know—”
“I sent them with Fulberg to remove them from danger. Kray will follow the two of us.”
“Then they’re not particularly removed, are they?” They were all on the same train. What sort of plan was that? “Why on earth would Kray come after us and leave the Harmons alone?”
“Because he’s a lazy hunter, and we’re the easiest prey.”
“Easiest prey?” That wasn’t a promising description at all.
“With any luck, the last thing Kray will remember is seeing the two of us at odds with Fulberg, a man keen to play knight-errant to the hapless residents of Twillins Cottage. With a little more luck, Kray will assume we fought before splitting up and Fulberg has whisked the innocent Harmons away to safety, while the pair of us have run off to sell your brother’s list to the highest bidder. Not only do we look the guilty party, we’ve left an obvious trail to follow.”
“A trail that leads right to the Harmons,” she pointed out. “This is an abysmal plan. And for God’s sake, I smiled and waved at the porter. Isn’t that too obvious? Is the man a fool? And I don’t—”
“It was important we be remembered at the train station. And, no, he’s not. Which is why I bought five tickets instead of two, and why I took pains to make it look as if we boarded with a group. It will appear as if I were attempting to cover our tracks.”
“But you had me wave…” She gasped as his earlier actions finally became clear. “That’s why you pretended to become angry with me for waving. You were playing the clever strategist, while I played the idiot undoing all your hard work. Surely Kray is not stupid enough to believe I would be so ridiculous, so dim-witted, so…”
She trailed off at the awful realization that, yes, Kray would believe it. Because she was Jane Ballenger, the recluse of Twillins Cottage. Gabriel had asked after her in the village. Kray would have done the same. And Gabriel’s assertion that the villagers claimed not to know her well had been only half true. They might not know her well, but that wouldn’t have stopped them from gossiping about her.
She’s not very clever.
She’s pretty and a little b
it mad…
“God,” she whispered, appalled beyond measure. She was a confirmed lunatic now. And an idiot. And a trollop. She’d never imagined the world could think worse of her. But there it was. She was a mad, idiot trollop.
Gabriel looked away from the window and gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, but it was the best option at hand. I had to make certain Kray would follow us.”
She took a deep, steadying breath through her nose and did her best to set the humiliation aside for now. “I don’t understand why we would lead him to the very train the Harmons are on. And I don’t understand what purpose it serves to take the same train but different carriages, then buy five tickets as if we’re all riding together. None of this makes any sense.”
To her immense frustration, he didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he peeked out the window again and frowned. Then, for some inexplicable reason, he looked her up and down the same way Mrs. Harmon did before measuring her for a new chemise.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She demanded.
“I’m trying to decide if we have time to…” The train jerked forward as it gathered more steam. “Never mind. We don’t. Stand up.”
“Why?”
Without another word, he rose and swung the exterior carriage door wide open.
She leapt from her seat so fast, she nearly tripped on her skirts again. “What onearth are you doing?”
Chapter Six
Gabriel had hoped to have a little more time before they reached this point. He’d promised Jane a full explanation, and it would have been nice to ease her into the idea of what came next. The train, however, had other ideas. Its carriages might have been old-fashioned, but its engine was new, powerful, and efficient. Already the last cottages of Ardbaile had passed out of sight.
It was time to go.
Turning to her, he offered his most encouraging, most bolstering smile. “We’re going to jump.”
She didn’t immediately react except to blink twice, then look out the open door at the passing landscape, then at him again. “I am certain I did not hear you correctly.”
“We’re jumping.”
“Off the train?”
Had the situation not been quite so dire, he might have laughed. “I can’t imagine what jumping in place would accomplish. Now listen carefully.” Taking hold of her elbow, he slowly drew her closer to the door. “I know it looks as if we’re moving at a great speed, but—”
“Avery great speed.”
“It’s an illusion—”
“A convincing one.”
“But still an illusion. We’re not going any faster than you might on a trotting horse.”
“I’d not throw myself off one of those, either.”
“You’re not going to throw yourself. You’re going to jump.” And she was going to have to do it soon, before the train picked up more speed. “Try to land on your feet, but keep your knees bent. Once you hit the ground, let yourself fall and roll. Don’t throw your arms out straight to catch yourself. Use them to protect your face and head.” He demonstrated with his own arms. “There’s nothing to it.”
“But I don’t—”
“You can do this.” He turned her to face the open door. “I know you can.” He let the urgency build in his voice and layered it with plenty of confidence. “Don’t think about it. Don’t talk yourself out of it. Just do it, Jane.Jump.”
She looked down at the ground racing beneath them, and took a full step back. “Absolutely not.”
Damn it. He didn’t have time to convince her. A distraction would have to do. He spun her round by the shoulders, took her face into his hands, and leaned down to kiss her.
Kissing a woman senseless wasn’t a terribly difficult thing to do, provided the lady was eager, he had some idea of her preferences, and there was sufficient time to see the thing done properly.
Jane stiffened up like a frightened cat the second he touched her. He hadn’t the slightest idea what sort of seduction she might prefer. And he had an estimated ten seconds to render her breathless, senseless, and open to all manner of suggestions.
As he lowered his head, his mind raced through the very short list of her attributes and landed ongenuine. Jane Ballenger was genuine.
He could fake genuine. He could fake damn near anything.
He brushed his thumbs along the heated skin of her cheeks, and paused with his mouth hovering over her own, giving her a chance to push him away. He didn’t mind shocking her. A little fear worked to his advantage. She didn’t have to be eager, either. But she damn well had to be willing.
When she didn’t pull away, he kissed her. He kissed her for all he was worth. Which, he felt wasn’t all that much. But he was good at the aforementioned faking. Very, very good at pretending he was genuinely worth something.
He put everything he had into that kiss, used every technique in his not inconsequential bag of tricks. He brushed his mouth against hers softly, plied her with coaxing nibbles and long, luxurious tastes. He kissed her until she leaned forward, just a hair—one nearly imperceptible quarter inch. And that was all it took. That small act of surrender, that first tiny glimpse of her pleasure was all desire needed to rear its head and roar with surprising volume. He lashed it down and immediately pulled away, putting a safe two feet of space between them.
Jane lifted her lids and stared at him through glazed amber eyes. She brought a trembling hand to press one gloved finger to her bottom lip.
His eyes lingered on that lip. She tasted like lemon drops. He hadn’t expected that.
“You can do this, sweetheart.” He was surprised to hear the strain in his own voice. “You can.Jump.”
Her glazed flicked to the open door, and by the time they flicked back again, they were clear. She dropped her hand. “Absolutelynot.”
Bloody hell. He needed to add to his repertoire of tricks. “Listen to me—”
“What about the Harmons? They’ll have no idea what became of us. They’ll be waiting at the next station and—”
“They won’t be waiting.” He had hope to ease her into this bit as well, but there was nothing else for it. “I’m sorry. They’re not on the train. But—”
“What?!”
“They’re not here. They’re safe with Fulberg. But you’re not. Kray will be waiting for us at the next station. And if he captures you, he’ll use you as leverage against them. Do you understand? You have to jump. For the Harmons. You have to jumpright now—”
She shoved him aside and jumped, leapt right out of the carriage without another second’s hesitation. She didn’t keep her arms up as he instructed, but at least she bent her knees.
He went right after her, rolled twice on impact with the ground and used the momentum halfway through the third revolution to push up to his feet. It took a moment more for his vision to catch up with the rest of him.
“Jane?” Blinking the dust out of his eyes, he found her struggling to her knees nearby. “Jane?” He rushed to her and ran his hands down her arms, searching for injuries. “Are you hurt?”
She swatted him away and clambered to her feet without his assistance. “Don’t touch me, you lying—”
“Are youhurt, Jane?”
“No!”
Relief washed over him, but he didn’t have the time to dwell on it, nor wonder why it came so strong and fast. It hadn’t been a particularly dangerous jump. He glanced back in the direction of Ardbaile. “We need to get away from the tracks.”
He grabbed her hand and hauled her the short distance into the cover of the woods.
The moment they were out of sight, Jane yanked free and whirled on him. “You’re aliar.”
Gabriel took his time responding. She looked half-mad in her current state. Her gown was torn and dusty, her bonnet was askew, her hair was coming out of its pins in frizzy little curls, and there was a crazed glint in her eye that would have made a lesser man nervous.
“Jane,” he began carefully.
She did
n’t let him finish. “Yourotter. You led me to believe the Harmons were on that train.”
“I never told you that.” He held up both hands in surrender when she glared daggers at him. “But, yes, I let you believe it for the sake of expediency. It wasn’t the time for an argument.”
“There was time enough to—” She broke off and her gaze turned inward in the manner of someone who had just come upon a sudden, unwelcome revelation. “Oh, my God. Oh, I am such an… I cannot believe I fell for such a stupid,stupid lie.”
“What lie?” Or which lie? That was probably more appropriate.
She whirled on him. “Kray will be waiting for us at the station?”
Ah.That lie. “Well—”
“We left Mr. Kray tied in an alley.”
“He’s free by now.”
“And possessed of the magical ability to instantly transport himself across vast distances? He couldn’t possibly make it to the next village before that train.”
“Ireally needed you to jump.”
“I… You…” A growling sort of noise rose from her throat. She bent down, scooped up a chunk of loose, decomposing bark off the forest floor, and hurled it at his head. It missed by miles, which appeared to do little to appease her temper. “Your ten minutes areup!”
“I can explain, but first—”
“No. No more firsts.” She jabbed a finger at him. “I woke up this morning with every intention of spending the morning at my desk, planning the financial feature of Twillins Cottage. Instead, I went into town for the first time in six years. I went into shops. I never go into shops. I visited a solicitor who winked at me. I hid in a galley. I pointed a gun at a man, turned the care of my family over to a stranger, ruined my reputation—twice—boarded a train, and then threw myself off of it. And it is scarcely past two in the afternoon. I have had enough. I’ll not take another step,not one more step, until you explain to me what is happening.”
It was, admittedly, an unusual day. And he was certain she’d meant to sayfuture, notfeature, andalley, notgalley. Of everything he’d just heard, however, one comment stood out above the others. “You’d not been to town in six years?”
A Dangerous Deceit (Thief-Takers) Page 10