SEDUCED AT MIDNIGHT

by Jacquie D'Alessandro

  "I've no intention of telling her anything," Julianne said quietly. She looked into the drawing room, and her gaze found Gideon. He was talking to Mr. Rayburn and looking very serious.

  "Why, Julianne … you're blushing," Emily said. She drew in a sharp breath, and her gaze bounced between Gideon and Julianne. "Good heavens. You like Mr. Mayne."

  It felt as if the sun itself burned from her cheeks. "Of course I like him. He saved my life."

  Emily shook her head. "No. I saw the way you just looked at him."

  "And how was that?"

  "With your heart in your eyes." Emily's own eyes looked troubled. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

  For several long seconds Julianne remained silent. Emily was a dear friend, but she was also an earl's daughter, and she knew what her reaction would be if Julianne were to admit the truth. Carolyn would no doubt share Emily's horror. Sarah, Julianne knew, would be more understanding. For all the good that did her.

  "Is it true?" Carolyn asked, her eyes filled with concern. "Do you love him?"

  "It doesn't matter," Julianne said, plucking at a loose thread on her ruined gown.

  "Of course it matters," Sarah said in a fierce whisper.

  "No, it doesn't," Emily insisted. "She is betrothed to the duke."

  "The announcement wasn't made," Carolyn pointed out.

  "But they're going to be married in two days!" Emily said.

  "Perhaps she doesn't want to marry the duke," Sarah said. "Perhaps she'd prefer to marry Mr. Mayne."

  Sarah's whispered words hung in the air, stealing the breath from Julianne's lungs. They were words she hadn't even dared say to herself, let alone speak out loud.

  "Marry Mr. Mayne?" Emily repeated in an aghast hiss. "Instead of a duke? Are you daft?"

  Sarah fixed Emily with a skewering stare. "Have you ever been in love, Emily?"

  A scarlet blush colored Emily's cheeks. "No, but—"

  "Then, with all due respect, you have no idea what you're talking about," Sarah said firmly. She turned to her sister. "Would you have married Daniel if he weren't an earl? If he were, say, a baker?"

  "I see the point you're trying to make—" Carolyn began, but Sarah cut her off. "Yes or no, Carolyn. Would you have married him if he were a baker?"

  "Yes. But," she added quickly, "I'm not an earl's daughter."

  "You were a viscountess by virtue of your first marriage. And as a viscountess you still would have married Daniel if he were a baker?"

  Carolyn let out a sigh. "Yes."

  "Why?" Sarah persisted.

  Carolyn shot her an annoyed look. "You sound like a barrister."

  "Then answer the question."

  Carolyn folded her hands in her lap then said primly, "Because I love him."

  A triumphant smile lit Sarah's lips. "And there you have it."

  "And there you have nothing," Emily said. "This is not some game, Sarah. If Julianne were to go against her parents' wishes and not marry the duke—and to throw him over for a Bow Street Runner? Good God, the scandal would ruin her. She'd be disinherited. She'd lose everything."

  "She'd lose money," Sarah agreed. "Material possessions. And most likely any relationship with her parents. But she wouldn't lose everything. She wouldn't lose me." Sarah raised her chin and grasped Julianne's hand. "I never aspired to a title, but since I have one, I won't hesitate to use it shamefully. The Marchioness Langston stands firmly behind Julianne. No matter what."

  Hot tears pushed behind Julianne's eyes at Sarah's steadfast loyalty.

  "Julianne hasn't actually said she'd prefer to marry Mr. Mayne," Carolyn said. She reached out and brushed back a lock of Julianne's hair. "Is that what you want? If you had the choice, would you choose to marry Mr. Mayne?"

  Julianne drew in a deep, shuddering breath, then whispered, "To quote Themistocles, 'I choose a man without money rather than money without a man.' If I had a choice, I would choose Gideon. I would rather be ostracized from society and share a life of modest means with him than live in the grandest splendor with anyone else."

  "Well," said Emily, sitting back with a plop and looking stunned. "Isn't that quite something."

  Sarah patted Emily's hand. "I know it seems shocking now, but you'll understand after you fall in love."

  Emily shook her head. "Oh, no. I've no intention of falling in love. Look at this poor girl." She waved her hand in Julianne's direction. "Look what love has done to her. She's miserable."

  "I am miserable," Julianne agreed.

  "I'm in love, and I'm not miserable," Sarah said. "Neither is Carolyn."

  "You seem to be forgetting something," Julianne said. "Mr. Mayne has not said anything about loving me. Nor has he expressed any interest in marrying me."

  "Well of course a Bow Street Runner would never think to ask an earl's daughter to marry him," Emily said with a sniff.

  "I wonder what would happen if he did think to do so?" Sarah mused.

  And suddenly Julianne wondered the same thing. Would Gideon want to marry her? Yet even as hope flared in her chest, it was instantly extinguished. Her parents would never agree. The banns would have to be posted for three weeks … she'd be long since married to the duke by then.

  Unless she simply refused to marry the duke. Yet if she did, she could well imagine her father forcibly dragging her before the vicar. If she ran away … but where could she go? She couldn't involve Sarah in such a scheme. It was one thing for Sarah to recognize a friend who married below her family's expectations but quite another to house a runaway bride. The scandal would then affect Sarah, Matthew, their unborn child…

  Yet, here she was, wasting energy on all these useless thoughts. Gideon hadn't expressed any desire to marry her. Hadn't said he loved her. She knew he cared, knew he desired her. But that didn't mean he wanted to marry her. And unless he did, there wasn't any decision for her to make.

  She turned, her gaze seeking him out. He stood in the drawing room, now deep in conversation with Logan Jennsen, Matthew, and Daniel. All four men looked extremely serious. Gideon, especially, seemed very tense.

  What on earth could they be talking about?

  Chapter 23

  After ascertaining that Julianne was safely ensconced in the small sitting room chatting with her friends—away from the windows and where he could see her through the open door—Gideon pulled Charles Rayburn aside and told him about the kidnappers' plan to kill him.

  "Appears you've stepped on someone's toes," Rayburn said when he finished.

  "Yes," Gideon agreed. "The question remains, whose?" Just then he spotted a familiar face across the room and he nudged Rayburn. "That woman, with the dark hair wearing the rose gown. Who is she?"

  Rayburn craned his neck. "The one standing with Walston and Penniwick?"

  "Yes."

  "That's Lady Celia. She's Walston's sister, visiting from Dorset."

  Gideon froze. For several seconds it seemed as if he couldn't even breathe. Snippets of conversation and facts of the investigation flashed through his mind: pieces of a puzzle that he hadn't yet been able to put in the proper formation. And then, like gears turning in perfect unison, those snippets and facts clicked into place. He took a moment to carefully review, to make certain he wasn't mistaken. Then his gaze settled upon the person he sought. The last clue to the puzzle. Standing across the room, looking elegant, chatting with friends. And Gideon knew he was right.

  "Is something amiss, Mayne?" Rayburn asked. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

  Gideon turned toward him. "I have," he said, his voice grim. "Now I all have to do is catch it." And now was the perfect time. But he had to act quickly. His mind racing, he swiftly formulated a strategy. "I have a plan. But we'll need help." Once again he scanned the room, halting when he saw who he was searching for. "Follow me."

  He walked to the far end of the room, Rayburn on his heels, halting when he reached the trio standing there. "I know who the murdering ghost robber is," Gideon said in an undertone to
Matthew, Daniel, Logan, and Rayburn. "We have the opportunity to catch the person here. Now. I have a plan. Do you want to help?"

  "Yes," Logan said without hesitation.

  "Count me in," said Matthew.

  "Me, too," added Daniel.

  "Good," said Gideon. "Here's what I want you to do."

  * * *

  Gideon approached Lord Haverly. "A moment of your time, Haverly, if you don't mind," he said, nodding toward the corner to afford them some privacy.

  "What do you want?" Haverly asked, looking none too pleased at being pulled away from his conversation.

  Gideon held out his hand. "I believe this belongs to you."

  Haverly's eyes widened, and he reached for the gold pocket watch resting in Gideon's palm. "Where did you find it?"

  "In the pocket of one of the men who kidnapped Lady Julianne."

  "Indeed?" Haverly's eyes shifted. "Then what makes you think it's mine?"

  "The fact that your name is engraved on the inside was a rather telling clue," Gideon said dryly.

  Haverly's skin turned a mottled red. "Bastards. Not only are they kidnappers but thieves as well."

  "They claim they didn't steal it. They say it was given to them. As partial payment for kidnapping Lady Julianne."

  Now all the color drained from Haverly's face. "Surely you don't believe it was I who commissioned them."

  "Wasn't it?"

  "Certainly not! Why would I want to kidnap Lady Julianne? I want to marry her."

  "Perhaps because she's going to marry someone else?"

  "That is a reason to be disappointed. Not to kidnap her."

  "Then how do you explain how the kidnapper had your watch?"

  "Obviously, he stole it from me."

  "When did you see it last?"

  Haverly frowned. "Earlier this evening. When I first arrived. I consulted it just before entering the party."

  Haverly's answer only served to confirm to Gideon that his theory was correct. He nodded toward the man approaching them. "The magistrate is interested in speaking with you."

  Without another word, Gideon walked away. Scanning the crowd, his gaze fell on his next quarry, who, he noted, was watching Haverly and Rayburn. Gideon crossed the room, halting in front of the duke.

  "I've some news," Gideon said. "Is there somewhere private we can talk? Your study perhaps?"

  The duke's sharp gaze assessed him, then flicked back to Haverly and Rayburn. He nodded in their direction. "What's going on there?"

  "That's partly what I want to discuss with you. It seems Haverly's in a bit of a … bad situation. But I don't wish to discuss it here."

  "My study then," he agreed and led the way into the corridor. A moment later they entered a darkly paneled room that smelled of fine leather, beeswax, and tobacco. A fire burned in the grate, casting the room in flickering shadows. The duke settled himself in the leather chair behind a massive mahogany desk, then indicated Gideon take the chair opposite him.

  "I prefer to stand," Gideon said.

  "Very well. What did you want to discuss with me?"

  "A new development. Haverly's watch was given to the kidnappers as partial payment for abducting Lady Julianne."

  Something flickered in the duke's eyes, something Gideon recognized but that was gone so quickly he might have missed it if he hadn't been watching for it. Then the duke's gaze turned glacial. "You're saying he's responsible? That bastard." His fist slammed onto the mahogany desk. "All those murders, all those robberies. Thank God you've stopped him. I trust Rayburn is taking him into custody?"

  "Actually, no."

  The duke frowned. "Why not?"

  "Because although the watch belonged to Haverly, he isn't the person who hired the kidnappers."

  "Then who did?"

  "You did."

  The duke stared at him for several seconds then laughed. "You think I hired those men to kidnap Lady Julianne? Really, Mayne. I suspected you were incompetent, but this is—"

  "I don't think you did. I know it. Absolutely. Will and Perdy, the men you hired, are very observant fellows. Fellows who spend a great deal of time studying the wealthy people they target. They recognized your voice, Your Grace," he lied without batting an eye and without the slightest twinge of remorse. "And in spite of the hood you wore, they recognized you."

  The duke cocked a single brow. "No one will take the word of two criminals over mine. They couldn't possibly have seen anything in the dark."

  Gideon slowly smiled. "I never said it was dark."

  For several seconds the duke didn't react, then pure hatred flared in his eyes. He shrugged, a casual gesture, but Gideon saw the tension in his shoulders. "I merely assumed it would be dark."

  "No, you knew it was. Because you were there. Tonight. Paying them with Haverly's watch. Which you stole. Just like you stole his snuffbox the night of Daltry's party."

  The duke leaned back in his chair and chuckled. "This is quite a story you've concocted, Mayne." He waved his hand in a rolling motion. "Please continue to entertain me."

  "With pleasure. You stole Haverly's snuffbox and watch to implicate him. You purposely left the snuffbox near the window you left open during Daltry's party. Your plan was to return later that night to steal Lady Daltry's jewels."

  The hatred in the duke's eyes had gone from a mere flare to a steady burn. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  "Yes, you do. When you returned later that night, you found the window locked. How do I know? Because I locked it. Your plan was thwarted, but you didn't worry. After all, you'd already killed Lady Ratherstone and Mrs. Greeley and gotten away with it. Who would suspect you?

  "The day after the party, you waited until Daltry went to his club, then you returned to the house and robbed and killed Lady Daltry. She would have let you in through some little-used servants' entrance to avoid detection. Just as you robbed and killed Lady Hart earlier today. You knew she'd be alone in the house as you'd been having secret trysts there regularly for the past month."

  Gideon set his hands on the desk and leaned forward until he was eye level with the duke. "Walston's sister, Lady Celia, was to be your next victim."

  "Celia? Now I know you're mad. I barely know her."

  "You know her well enough to have had sex with her earlier this evening."

  The duke narrowed his eyes. "There's no way you could prove that."

  "Are you calling the lady a liar?"Gideon asked softly.

  Gideon could read the cold calculation in the duke's eyes, could almost see his mind racing at the implication that Lady Celia had admitted their tryst, an implication he had no way of knowing was false. Discovering that the woman he'd seen enter the room after the duke earlier tonight was Walston's sister had made everything finally click in Gideon's mind. Except for Gatesbourne, whose daughter was being threatened, and the three men from Cornwall no one but the duke knew anything about, Walston was the only man on the list who hadn't yet had a woman important to him robbed and murdered.

  The duke steepled his fingers and touched them to his chin. "I am calling you mistaken, Mayne. Not only are you incompetent, you're insane. What possible reason would I have for robbing anyone? For killing those women?"

  Gideon straightened, then said, "The oldest motives in the world: money and revenge. All revolving around the failed business deal between you and nine other men."

  Gideon could see by the duke's expression that he'd hit his mark. Pressing his advantage, he continued. "At first there were only seven of you. You, Gatesbourne, Walston, Penniwick, Daltry, Jasper, and Ratherstone. You each put up ten thousand pounds in a venture guaranteed to quadruple your money. But you saw a chance to gain even more. You brought in three more investors—your friends from Cornwall, Count Chalon, Mr. Standish, and Mr. Tate—who each put up ten thousand pounds."

  Gideon paused for several seconds, then said, "But there was no Count Chalon, Mr. Standish, or Mr. Tate. You made them up. Your greed led you to lie to your friends. To put
up the monies for the fictitious Chalon, Standish, and Tate, money your heiress wife had brought to your marriage, so that you would reap the rewards four times over.

  "But the investment went bad. You wanted to stay in, wait for things to turn around, as that forty thousand pounds was all you had. Yet one by one, the others pulled out. They felt the pinch of their ten-thousand-pound loss, but you, you lost four times as much. An amount that left you on the brink of financial ruin. And it was all their fault. If only the others had stayed the course, you would have been one of the richest men in England.

  "Instead, your wife found out what happened. What you'd done. Found out you'd tried to cheat your friends and lost all the money she'd brought to the marriage. Between the disillusionment of discovering her husband's true character, the reality of social and financial ruin, and the heartbreak of losing your child, she killed herself."

  Unmistakable anguish twisted the duke's face. "She was so young. So lovely."

  "You loved her."

  "I adored her. And she was mine. And they stole her from me. No one steals from the Duke of Eastling." Where his eyes had always seemed cold, they now burned with a combination of fervor and hatred. "If it wasn't for them pulling out of the deal too soon, none of it would have happened. I wouldn't have lost everything. I wouldn't have lost Amelia."

  "So you made them pay," Gideon said softly.

  "Yes." The word sounded ripped from his soul. "Damn it, yes. They had to pay. All of them. They owed me. I wanted them to feel the grief I felt. So I took from them what they'd taken from me."

  "Women they cared for."

  "Yes."

  "And the jewels … they were merely to distract from the real crime of the murders. To make it seem as if the jewels were the real motive, that the victims were killed in order to gain their valuables. Very clever."

  The duke inclined his head. "Thank you. Although one can never have too many jewels, and I needed the money I gained from selling them on the Continent. Those bastards deserved some financial setback. It would have taken me years to ruin them all financially, if I'd even been able to do so. But I could cause them grief like…" he snapped his fingers, "…that."