The young man sucked in his cheeks and bounced on the balls of his feet. “No, my lord.”
“Just like the word, do you?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Noble stopped pacing in front of the footman and narrowed his eyes at him. “There’s nothing you should have told me that you haven’t, is there, Charles?”
Charles’s eyes widened. “Me, my lord?” he squeaked.
“Mmm,” Noble said, giving him a close look, then continued his pacing. “Very well, our watchword is testicle. Should you encounter someone who does not answer your cry of ‘Halt, who goes there?’ with a snappy ‘testicle,’ you will restrain him and shout for assistance.”
“A lady wouldn’t say it,” Charles said.
Noble spun around to face the interruption. “What’s that?”
“You asked me if I had a reason for choosing the word testicle, my lord. I thought of one. A lady wouldn’t say it. Therefore, any lady villains we encounter wouldn’t say the watchword.”
“Er…quite right. Are there any other questions?”
“They’d say something else,” Charles said. Noble ignored him and gazed down the line of footmen.
“Like whirlygigs,” Dickon said with a nod. “That’s what my mum used to call them.”
“Dusters,” said Crouch. “Jenny Hills. Flowers and frolics.”
“Yes, quite. Are there any—”
“Gooseberries,” said one of the Runners.
“No, they’s jingleberries, they are,” said another.
Noble rubbed his still-aching head. The pain seemed to be increasing again.
“Les accessories,” said Tremayne Two in a perfect French accent.
“Orchestra stalls,” offered Crouch.
“Twiddle-diddles. A lady would surely say twiddle-diddles,” Charles suggested, looking up as the door opened. “Oh, my lady, could you answer a question? If you were asked to say the word—”
“Charles!” Noble bellowed. “That will be all! You are dismissed, all of you.”
“If I was asked to say what word?” Gillian asked as the footmen filed out. Noble glared at the men and dared them to answer her.
“Whennymegs,” Crouch muttered as he closed the door behind him.
Gillian turned to Noble. “Whennymegs? Oh, testicles. What about them? Are yours all right, my lord?” She turned her attention to the front of Noble’s buckskins, concern writ across her face. “Did you damage them last night? You were quite enthusiastic, husband, but I thought everything looked hale and hearty this morning. Shall I check them for you?”
She started reaching for the buttons on his breeches. Noble caught her hand. “Everything is fine there, thank you. Did you do as I asked?”
“Yes, the ladies are gone, but really, Noble, you were quite rude, not even staying to chat. They do know you, and seem very fond of you. I think it would have been only polite if you had stayed to talk with them, find out how they’re doing, who they’re mistressing for, that sort of thing. Why, Laura had quite nice things to say about her time with you—”
Noble grabbed Gillian by the arms and pulled her up against him, ending the discussion the only way he thought would be effective. Gillian look bemused when he released her from the kiss, but he noted the sparkle in her eye was in no way diminished.
“And Anne said you were the best lov—”
He kissed her longer this time, deeper, dipping his tongue in and out of her mouth in a suggestive manner. She moaned into his mouth. He lifted his head and smiled smugly at her. She blinked several times, then touched a finger to his lips. “So soft, and yet so very demanding,” she whispered, and gave herself a little shake. “Just how Beverly described—”
“Madam!” Noble roared in mock fury, shaking Gillian slightly. “You will cease this unseemly conversation!”
She giggled, then slowly the happy glow faded from her face. She placed a hand on his chest. “Noble, we must talk. About this morning — I know you are angry with me, and I appreciate you not lecturing me about interfering with your plans, but you were acting so very foolish, and I simply had to take steps. I couldn’t allow you to face Lord Carlisle, not when there was the chance that he would harm you, or even kill you. You do understand that I did it for your own good, don’t you?”
Noble stared at her with increasing bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”
Gillian blushed. “I can see you are being kindhearted by pretending it didn’t happen, but I assure you, my darling husband, I am ready to hear your lecture.”
Noble frowned. “What exactly did you do for my own good that had to do with Lord Carlisle? You haven’t had time to see him.” He looked around the library in mock suspicion. “I don’t see him lurking in the corner, so you couldn’t have invited him here as you are wont to do with people I’d rather not see. What is it you’ve done, wife?”
Gillian watched his expression closely. God’s knuckles, he honestly didn’t seem to be upset. Would she ever understand his moods? “I wasn’t planning on telling you, but now I think perhaps it wouldn’t upset you, as I had previously thought. I had him…that is to say, I ordered that Crouch and three of the Runner footmen…it was for your own good, you know, and solely to help you save face, so I don’t think you should commence scowling in that manner, husband.”
Noble counted to ten. “What did you do?”
“I had Lord Carlisle kidnapped.”
Noble sank down into the nearest available chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Why?” Even thinking the word made his head hurt worse.
“So that you wouldn’t feel I was betraying you when I drugged you.”
He stopped rubbing his forehead. “You did what?”
Gillian frowned. “You needn’t act as if you didn’t notice, husband.”
“You drugged me? So I couldn’t attend the duel?” Gillian nodded. “You drugged me? Ah, the draught. You drugged me with my own brandy? And then you let me make love to you?”
Gillian took a step or two away from him. Her Lord of Outrage looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to laugh and kiss her silly, or to yell the hair right off her head, and if he settled on the latter, she wanted a little bit of distance. “It wasn’t what I had planned, Noble, ’tis the truth I hadn’t planned that you would…that you and I were going to…that we would…I just wanted you a little sleepy so that you would not wake in time for the duel, and…well…I must have given you a bit too much because you slept like the dead.”
His indignation of earlier returned. “Do I remember correctly you engaging in a discussion of my personal attributes with Crouch?”
Gillian’s face brightened and she stepped forward again. Here was safe ground. Surely he couldn’t find fault with her wifely devotion in defending him. “Oh, yes, I did wonder if you were awake or not. Crouch said some rather rude things about your lovely behind, and I corrected him. It’s not a good thing to let one’s pirate have too much leniency where that sort of thing is concerned. With comments about one’s behind, that is. Don’t you agree?”
Noble opened his mouth to speak, realized he didn’t know what the hell he was going to say to that, and closed it again. Tiny pinpricks of pain in his temples were dulling into a steady throb. If he concentrated, he could ignore them enough to continue the enlightening discussion of a moment ago.
“Let me see if I have this straight. You drugged me and kidnapped McGregor so that neither one of us could attend the duel, thereby making each think the other had absented himself from the duel?”
Gillian nodded. “I thought it only fair, you see. I didn’t want one of you being accused of cowardice by not being present.” She looked thoughtful. “It worked quite well, Crouch tells me. Lord Carlisle was most obliging and gave Crouch no trouble once he had a zoc. Crouch wouldn’t tell me exactly what a zoc was, but I’m sure it must have been nice if it persuaded Lord Carlisle to go along quietly with him.”
Noble considered telling her it was
cant for a blow, then decided against it. She was picking up enough of the vulgar tongue from Crouch; she didn’t need additional words. “I trust he has been released?”
“Oh, yes, quite early this morning. Crouch said he was furious, but settled down once he gave him another zoc. I do hope they are not habit-forming.”
Noble closed his eyes and slumped back in his chair. He didn’t know whether to throttle her for interfering or kiss her and then tell her his own actions. Perhaps he should do both. Just a quick little throttle, and then the kissing. Lots of kissing. He opened his eyes and looked at her standing in front of him, her face worried. Maybe the throttling could wait and he should start in with the kissing first.
“Oh, yes, I agree with that.” Gillian nodded emphatically. Noble stared at her.
“You agree with what?”
“That the throttling can wait and you should start in with the kissing first. I like it when you kiss me. You make my knees turn to water.”
Oh, lord, now he had picked up her Unfortunate Habit! He steeled himself against her hopeful look and frowned. “Wife, I will not have you interfering—”
“Noble?” she interrupted him, looking worried again. “Is this lecture going to take long? Because if it is, I’d like to talk about something else—”
“I am quite sure you would, madam—”
“I’d like to talk about Nick,” she continued as if he had not spoken. “He told me about what happened that night when your Elizabeth died, and I do think he needs to be reassured that you do not blame him for anything. He was most distressed by the thought that he had failed you, or shamed you in some manner.”
Noble stared at her, unable to believe what she was saying. “He told you? In the same manner he told you he liked being in London?”
She frowned. “No, of course not, he told me. That is, he spoke—”
Noble was up and out of his chair before he knew what he was doing. “He told you? He spoke?” He had both hands on Gillian’s shoulders and glowered into her face. “He actually spoke to you and you didn’t bother to mention the fact to me?”
“I had to drug you,” she started to explain, then threw up her hands, muttered something about him not understanding, and, turning, bolted out of the library. Noble stared at the spot where she had been standing, trying to grasp this miracle she had worked; then her words sank in. Nick had spoken about that night?
He passed her on the first flight of stairs, racing up to the second floor, where Nick’s rooms were. If Nick was remembering the facts of that night, he needed more than just simple reassurance — he needed every ounce of love his father could give him. As Noble leaped up the last few stairs he sent a prayer of heartfelt gratitude that God had sent him Gillian. Without her, he wouldn’t have learned how to love again.
He paused in the doorway to Nick’s room, sick with the thought of what he would find. His son, his innocent little boy, exposed to horrors Noble fervently hoped he’d never understand, events so traumatic that it had stripped him of speech. He stood with his hand on the doorknob, willing himself to enter the room and face the boy who fought his devils just as fiercely as Noble fought his own.
“He needs you, Noble,” Gillian said softly behind him.
Noble nodded, still unable to open the door. Gillian leaned into him for a moment, then put her hand on his and waited. Noble took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Nick leaped up from the window seat and stared at his father. Noble’s silver-eyed gaze held that of his son for a brief minute, then the boy was flying across the room crying, “Papa!”
Gillian smiled even as she wiped discreetly at the tears that overflowed at the sight of Noble sitting with his son on his lap, the boy sobbing into his chest, reliving once again that horrible night. She met her husband’s eyes briefly, then slipped out of the room with Rogerson.
“He’ll be better now, ma’am,” the tutor reassured her.
“They both will,” Gillian responded, dabbing at the last few tears. “They’ve learned how to climb walls, I think.”
“Walls, my lady? I don’t understand.”
Gillian beamed at him as she started down the hall. “It doesn’t matter, Rogerson. They understand.”
“Good lord, man, you look like death warmed over. No man looks like that who’s spent the night worshipping at the feet of his lovely bride; therefore you must have drank yourself silly instead. Noble, my boy, we really must have a talk one of these days.”
“My lovely bride,” Noble said as he settled himself across from Lord Rosse, “drugged me last night so I couldn’t attend my dawn appointment.”
Rosse stared at him. “You didn’t tell her you’d apologized and called it off?”
Noble explained about Gillian’s plan to save both his and Carlisle’s honor. Rosse laughed over the tale until he realized that his friend was looking even more grim than before, if that was possible, which he would have doubted had he not been looking at proof.
“Well, that explains where Carlisle had disappeared to last night when I delivered your note. But don’t tell me you are angry with the charming Gillian for her attempts to save your worthless hide?”
Noble didn’t react to his gentle teasing. “Nick’s talking.”
Rosse looked at the Black Earl’s tight jaw and the eyes that glittered a hard, cold silver. “He remembers that night?”
Noble nodded. “There was a second man there, Harry. It…” Noble seemed to be having difficulty making his jaw work. “It wasn’t McGregor. Nick saw it all; he saw Elizabeth and this other man, and he saw their little games. So help me God, if I ever find the bastard, I’ll gut him alive. He was going to abuse Nick simply to strike at me.”
Rosse looked ill, but not as ill as Noble felt. That black thing that had once roiled around inside him was back, but this time it had a target, a reason for being, and its name was vengeance. “God damn her soul to eternal hell! How could she do that to him? He was just a little boy.”
“I’m sure she’s rotting there now,” Rosse said, thinking that if anyone deserved eternal damnation, the late Countess of Weston did. “Did he…did Nick understand everything?”
“No, thank God,” Noble said, suddenly exhausted. He felt drained, squeezed dry, as if he were an old limp washrag. “He doesn’t, and Gillian is doing her best to make him forget, but I doubt if he ever will. My God, Harry, the man was going to…” The thought was too foul, he couldn’t even put it into words.
Rosse noticed the tears in his friend’s eyes and felt a lump forming in his throat. “What can I do, Noble?”
“We’ve got to find out who this other man was. The one who played those foul games with Elizabeth.” Noble stared out the window for a moment. “She had so many lovers, Harry, where do I begin looking?”
“Did Nick give you a description of the man?”
“Just a brief one — an average-sized man with no outstanding features, brown hair, dark eyes — a description that could match more than half the men in the ton.”
“Perhaps if I were to question him—”
Noble shook his head adamantly. “No. I’ll not have him relive that night again. We’ll have to find the bastard without upsetting Nick. Gillian’s taken him out to the zoological garden to see the octupantses.”
Rosse looked startled. “To see the what?”
“Octopus.”
“I thought you said…never mind, it doesn’t matter. Is it safe for them to be out?”
“Gillian said it would be better for him to be out of the house for a bit. I didn’t send her out alone; she’s got all five Runners with her.” A smile flickered across Noble’s face as he remembered her outraged objection to taking all five with her. “Do you know that she hired two Runners to protect me? With your two, that makes seven all together. It’s a wonder the thieves and murderers aren’t running rampant in the city.”
Rosse grunted, and continued tugging on his lip as he considered and rejected paths of inquiry. “You’
ll be safe enough at White’s. You may not like this, Noble — I know you want justice for your boy — but I think we should finish up with this first problem before starting on one five years old.”
Noble looked obstinate, and it took Harry until the pair had reached White’s to convince him that to divide their attention and forces would be foolish. “After all,” he pointed out as they handed over their hats and sticks, “you lose Carlisle as your main suspect if Nick is correct and there’s a second man involved. I’d be willing to wager it’s this man who is behind the attacks on you and the threats to your lady, rather than Carlisle.”
“He’s tried to convince Gillian I am an ogre,” Noble protested. He hated to give up the idea of McGregor as villain but had to admit it was looking less likely with each passing day.
“All he’s tried to do is warn her against what he believes is your vicious temper. Gillian told me last night that he believes you murdered Elizabeth most foully and are going to do the same to her.”
Noble looked startled. “By God, I’ll thrash the…she didn’t believe him, did she?”
Rosse nodded to an acquaintance, was pleased to see that no one cut his friend, and headed for his favorite quiet corner. “No, of course she didn’t, but she did point out that all he’s ever tried to do is to protect her from you.”
“So she thinks,” Noble said darkly, and glowered at his boots.
“About that night, Noble — I know you don’t want to talk about it, but have you told Gillian what happened? What really happened, not what Carlisle is sure to have told her what he saw?”
“There wasn’t time,” Noble answered. “After I spoke with Nick, Gillian thought it was best to fill his mind with happier thoughts and took him off to the Gardens.”
Rosse adjusted his spectacles. “I can imagine what Carlisle told her he saw — I had the devil of a time pulling him off you. I thought I was too late after I heard the pistol shots and found you in a pool of blood, with Carlisle’s hands digging into your throat.”
Noble grimaced and rubbed at his neck. “I couldn’t speak for weeks. Thank God you were staying with me then.”
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