“It wasn’t a pleasant time for you,” Rosse said easily. “You needed a friendly face around that dour ancestral pile. I never did find out why Carlisle was there that night — did you?”
“Yes. He showed me a note from Elizabeth, saying she’d overheard me plotting to kill her. He had come to play knight-in-shining-armor to her maiden-in-distress.”
Rosse blinked carefully, noting the anger in his friend’s voice. “Do you mean…she arranged to have him there?” His mind raced on, quickly leaping over false impressions and jumping to the logical conclusion. “Was she arranging for you to take the blame for something? Something to do with Carlisle?”
Noble shook his head and rubbed his hands together. Even thinking about that night made him feel cold. “No. I think now — now that I know about the second man — I think he and Elizabeth were planning to use Carlisle.”
“For what purpose?”
“As a scapegoat for my murder.”
Rosse’s jaw dropped.
“There you are! Lud, Weston, the news is all over the clubs — you called the duel off? You apologized? ’Pon my honor, I never thought the day would come when you backed down from a challenge!”
“I apologized,” Noble said evenly, sending the marquis a look that let him know their conversation was at an end.
“But…but why?” Sir Hugh stammered. “That is…it’s not like you, man, not like you a’tall. You feeling quite the thing? Not ill, perhaps? Sickening over something?”
“I’m quite all right, Tolly, there’s no need to hover over me like a giant mother hen.”
Sir Hugh flushed at the look of distaste Noble gave his plum waistcoat with its scarlet embroidery. “I couldn’t credit it, but if you say it’s true…” Sir Hugh shrugged and made himself comfortable in a nearby chair. “Why the long faces if you’ve settled this affair?”
Noble was about to explain when a shadow fell across them.
“I accept your apology,” Lord Carlisle said, standing before Noble and clutching a pair of soft leather gloves. “Consider that score settled. However, I inquired. It was your house. If you think you can disguise that Crotch of yours by tying a bit of black silk over his ugly face, you’re mistaken.”
Noble didn’t flinch as Carlisle laid the gloves across his cheek with a snap of his wrist. “Consider yourself challenged.”
Noble pursed his lips for a moment, then bent and retrieved the gloves from where Carlisle had thrown them at his feet. He handed them back. “No.”
Sir Hugh gasped. Carlisle stared. “No what?”
“No, I don’t accept your challenge. You are quite right to be outraged over my wife’s actions. I apologize on her behalf.”
Carlisle gawked at him. “You…apologize?”
Noble nodded. “I do. Her plan, motivated by her desire to see no blood shed between us, was carried out solely upon her orders. However, as she is my wife and I am responsible for her actions, I apologize.”
“You won’t face me over pistols?”
“No.”
Carlisle looked as if he wanted to pout. “Well, dammit, man, you have to give me satisfaction for this slight!”
“There’s always Jackson’s,” Rosse pointed out. “You could beat your frustrations out on each other.”
Noble looked at Carlisle, noting that although the Scot was shorter than he was, he had more bulk to his chest. Even dressed in a kilt, as he was now, Carlisle was the picture of masculine power. Carlisle, likewise engaged in an assessment of his would-be opponent, wasn’t fooled in the least by the elegant picture Noble displayed — after all didn’t his nose looked to have been recently broken? Carlisle knew that beneath that tastefully cut, skin-tight coat, Noble had the strength to match him.
“Done,” both men said at the same time, then agreed to meet in the early afternoon to settle the matter once and for all.
“I liked the elephant the best, didn’t you, Gillian? Didn’t you think the elephant was the best? I thought he looked very sad, though. Perhaps he misses his home. Do you think he misses his home? If I were an elephant, I’d miss my home.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s it. He did look homesick.”
Nick thought for a moment. “But I also liked the lions, didn’t you like the lions? And the camels. And the zebras. But I didn’t like the jackals. Did you like the jackals, Crouch?”
“Eh, well now, Master Nick, that’s a right good question—”
“I liked the giraffe, too. Did you see how long his neck was, Gillian? How does he drink with such a long neck? I wonder if Rogerson knows how a giraffe drinks. I bet if my neck was that long that I could figure out a way to drink.”
“You weren’t fast enough,” Gillian told Crouch as she handed him her hat and parasol.
“Aye, m’lady, that I weren’t,” he answered her with a cheeky grin. “But it’s nice to see the lad talkin’ again.”
“That it is, Crouch. Nick, why don’t you go upstairs and ask Rogerson about the drinking habits of the giraffe? Is that for me?” she asked as Charles the footman brought a note on a silver tray.
“It’s from Lady Charlotte,” Charles said helpfully.
“Yes, I can see that,” Gillian said, examining the note. She slid her finger under the wax as she started toward the library.
“Her ladyship’s maid brought it just a bit ago. Her ladyship’s maid said it was quite urgent, and that you were to send for her ladyship if you wanted her.”
“Thank you, Charles.” Gillian smiled at him as he held open the library door for her.
“If there’s anything you want, my lady, just let me know,” he added helpfully. “Anything at all. Say, for example, you wanted a message sent to Lady Charlotte. Well, then”—he puffed up his chest and thumped it importantly—“Bob’s your uncle!”
“No, my uncle’s name is Theodore,” she said absently as she read the note. Charles hovered hopefully around the door. His curiosity was rewarded when Gillian suddenly crumpled the note and said, “Bloody hell! Will someone please explain to me how that man’s mind works?”
Charles quickly stepped back into the room. “I would be happy to be of assistance, my lady, if you were to just tell me which man it is you seek information about.”
Gillian stifled the desire to roll her eyes and instead commanded that the carriage be brought around immediately. “I have a few letters to write, Crouch,” she said to the butler as she hurried out into the hall and toward the stairs. “I’ll want a footman…no, four footmen, ready to take them immediately. I’ll want the notes delivered as quickly as possible, so have them ride.”
“Four footmen, m’lady?”
“Yes, four,” Gillian replied as she leaped up the stairs. “I shall go to Lady Charlotte myself, and the four footmen can deliver the notes to his lordship’s ladybats.”
“Ladybirds,” Crouch corrected her softly as he watched her fly up the stairs; then he turned his attention to the louts standing about watching with nothing better to do but scratch their arses. “ ’Ere, you, Dickon, you ’eard the mistress. Go tell Tremayne to ’ave the carriage and four ’orses brought ’round. Coo lummey, what ’is lordship’ll ’ave to say about this, I don’t want to think.”
“I thought that bit of news would bring you at a gallop,” Charlotte said as she entered the small sitting room. “Good afternoon, Nick. You look well.”
Nick bowed. “Thank you, Lady Charlotte.”
Charlotte stared openmouthed at him for a moment, then raised a brow as she looked at Gillian.
“Nick has decided he likes talking,” she answered the unasked question. “Now, tell me where you heard this news.”
“Papa told Mama when he came home from his morning at the club. He said the books are filled with wagers on whether Lord Weston will trump Lord Carlisle, or vice versa. Papa didn’t know who to bet on — he felt as if he should back Lord Weston, since he’s his nephew-in-law, but he thinks Lord Carlisle has the advantage and so…well…he’s wagered on both.”
Gillian couldn’t keep the smile back. “That sounds like Uncle Theo. He doesn’t like to be on the losing side of any venture, least of all those concerning a few groats.”
Charlotte snorted. “A few groats — after what Lord Weston settled on you, I should think he would cast his lot with your husband.”
“Char, you make it sound as if Noble purchased me!”
Charlotte shrugged and daintily picked at a cuticle. “He did, more or less. Oh, don’t get your feathers in a hackle, cousin; I assume you are not here to debate the hows and whys of your marriage. What are you going to do about this terrible fisticuffs duel the men have planned?”
“I shall stop it, of course! I have no intention of allowing Lord Carlisle to beat the tar out of my husband.”
“What makes you think Lord Carlisle’s tar won’t take a pounding?”
Gillian made a face. “Normally, I’d back Noble’s tar against Lord Carlisle’s, but in the last few days Noble has been kidnapped, shot, received a black eye, broken his nose, and been drugged. The last, I’m annoyed to say, was completely without need, since Noble informed me this morning that he had actually apologized to Lord Carlisle and canceled the duel the night before.”
Charlotte nodded. “Papa told Mama about that, as well. But how do you intend to stop them?”
Gillian smiled. “I have a wonderful plan.”
Charlotte dimpled at her in return. Nick looked worried.
Lord Carlisle sauntered over to where the smaller man was sitting. He glared at his companion’s arrogant posture for a moment, then allowed himself to be waved into an adjoining chair. “You wanted to see me?”
The smaller man nodded his head. “It’s about this silly challenge you’ve issued Weston…you don’t intend to go through with it, do you? The man is known for his abilities in the boxing ring.”
“As am I,” Carlisle said with a scowl. Impudent upstart. Who did he think he was, cautioning him against Weston?
“I have no doubt, but you seem to be forgetting the goal of the exercise — to protect Lady Weston from his inhuman rages. How do you think she’ll fare once he takes out his anger on her?”
“Anger at my beating him in the ring? She won’t be responsible for that.”
“No, but she is responsible for having you detained, and forcing Weston into a public apology. No man in his right mind would let his wife get away with such brazen actions, especially a man of Weston’s pride. She’ll pay for her little plan and pay dearly, unless I miss my guess.”
Carlisle digested this unpalatable news. “She was trying to protect him; surely you don’t think he’d—”
“He has every right to beat her for interfering, and when his humiliation at your hands is added to his rage, well…” The smaller man spread his hands and shrugged. “It will be all over for her. Perhaps you can save the next bride.”
“No, dammit, I’ll save this one!” Carlisle snarled, his face twisted with pain. “I couldn’t save Elizabeth from that monster’s wrath, but I’ll save this Lady Weston.”
The small man sat back with a satisfied grin, his fingers steepled together. “I have an idea about how you might just do that. I’ve taken a house in the country. If we move up the plan to tonight, I will place my house at your disposal. There’s no safer location for her — Weston’d never think of seeking her there.”
Carlisle waved away a man offering libations and watched the smaller man fidget with his watch fobs, wondering if he should chance speaking bluntly.
“I thought you were on your uppers? The word around town is that you can’t meet your vowels, yet you’ve taken a house?”
The man flushed angrily. “My finances are no concern of yours. Now, do you want to save Lady Weston or not? Be quick, man, her life is at stake! You should know that more than anyone!”
Carlisle narrowed his eyes at the impudent manner in which he was addressed. He was tempted to walk away from the plan, but the memory of his failure to save Elizabeth haunted him still. He couldn’t allow that history to repeat itself.
He nodded his agreement.
“Ladies, we have an emergency!” Gillian declared as she strode into her sitting room, Nick on her heels. “Lord Weston and Lord Carlisle are going to—”
“—have a duel by fisticuffs, yes, we know,” Beverly interrupted her.
Gillian frowned. “How do you know? I just learned of it from my cousin!”
Beverly shrugged.
“We tend to hear things of import in the ton, my lady,” Madelyn said. “We have to be current with the latest on-dits if we are to be successful.”
“Sort of an occupational necessity, you mean?”
The ladies nodded.
“I see. Well, be that as it may, the fact remains that we shall need to take immediate action to bring this unendurable situation to a close.”
“What can we do?” Laura asked hesitantly. “Do you wish us to disguise ourselves in men’s clothing and descend upon Mr. Jackson’s rooms?”
Gillian eyed the women’s lush figures. Disguising them as men was clearly not an option.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” gasped Anne as she burst into the room ahead of an unhappy-looking Tremayne. “The White Dove was telling me the most amazing bit of news about Lord Weston—”
“We’ve heard it,” Madelyn said, scooting over to make room on the love seat.
“Oh,” Anne said, pouting a little at this turn of events.
“White Dove?” Gillian asked.
“The Duke of Marlborough’s mistress,” Laura explained. “She’s the undisputed leader of the demimonde. Anne, Lady Weston needs our help to stop this silly duel.”
Anne’s pout disappeared as her eyes began to sparkle. “Shall we nobble them? I’ve always wanted to try my hand at a bit of honest nobbling.”
“Anne!” Beverly said with a frown. “I’m sure Lady Weston has a plan that does not involve something so very crude.”
“Yes, indeed, I do,” Gillian said with a smile for her mistress friends. “It’s much nicer than nobbling, and really very simple.”
Five faces turned to her expectantly.
“I want you to seduce the men at Gentlemen Jackson’s.”
Three hours later Gillian alighted from the carriage. She looked at number 13, Bond Street, and gave a little sigh. “It doesn’t look like much, does it?”
“Mmmm, no,” Charlotte said, watching a handsome young blood enter the next-door establishment. “Let’s go there instead. Fencing. Gilly, you know how you love swords!”
“Oooh, Henry Angelo’s school,” Anne trilled as she stepped out of the second carriage. “I’ve been there. You’d like it, Lady Charlotte. There are ever so many young gentleman who learn to fence there.”
“No,” Gillian said firmly, tugging her cousin toward the proper door. “Later. Perhaps. If you behave.”
“Pooh, who wants to behave? You don’t have any fun that way.” Charlotte shot longing glances toward the second door.
“You do, or you shan’t come with us and watch the mistresses seduce the gentlemen. Honestly, Charlotte, it’s a full day’s work trying to keep you proper!”
Crouch, standing next to them, blanched at her words. “You want to go inside the boxing saloon, m’lady? Am I ’earin’ you correctly? You want to go in?”
“Yes, Crouch, that’s correct. I plan to—”
Crouch shook his head and raised his hook. “No, m’lady. I can’t allow it. ’Is lordship would be stringin’ my gut out thinner’n a blue-eyed cat’s smellers. Ye’ll not be wantin’ to see me with my guts like that, now would you, m’lady?”
“That pitiful tone in your voice is very effective, Crouch,” Charlotte said in a stage whisper. “If you like, I can show you an expression that would highly complement it. You might have better luck that way.”
“Charlotte, I forbid you to subvert my pirate!”
“My lady.” Madelyn put her hand on Gillian’s arm and inserted herself between the two co
usins. “Do you not think we should be about your plan? Even now, Lord Weston could be—”
“Dear God, yes, of course! Off you go, the four of you. We shall follow once you’ve had suitable time to seduce the men.” Gillian pulled a watch from her reticule. “About how long do you anticipate that will take? Three minutes? Four?”
Beverly shot her a look of patent disbelief. “To seduce someone? My lady, that could take upwards of an hour—”
“Oh, no,” Gillian argued. “We don’t have that sort of time. I want the quick version.” She looked at the blank faces gawking at her. “You know, the quick seduction. Heavens, I can’t believe I need to tell you four how to do your job. The quick one, the one that makes a man’s eyes bulge out and his breathing stop and his hands clench and unclench spasmodically. It only takes a few minutes for Noble to reach that state, and surely you are ever so much more effective at seduction than I am.”
Madelyn opened and closed her mouth a few times before she got the words out. “We’ll do our best, my lady.”
Gillian beamed at her. “Excellent. We’ll follow you in a few minutes.” She smiled a reassuring smile at Crouch as he shook his head at the sight of the mistresses disappearing through Gentleman Jackson’s door.
Gillian took a firm grip on her cousin’s arm to keep her from wandering. “Crouch, when we go upstairs, you and the footmen may stay out here.”
“Nay, m’lady, yer won’t be doing that. Remember my gut! ’Ere Charles, Dickon, ’Enry — ye three guard ’er ladyship. Frank, ’Arrison, ye take the ’ounds. Thomas, Jim, the two of ye stay with the ’orses, and make sure no one does anythin’ funny like to either carriage. I’ll stay by Master Nick’s side. And we’ll all be stayin’ out ’ere where it’s safe!”
This last was said directly to Gillian. Charlotte looked over the line of footmen as they leaped down from the two carriages necessary to carry them all, then turned back to Gillian. “If you could get them all on top of horses, you could join Astley’s!”
Gillian rolled her eyes. “Really, Crouch, I appreciate your concern, but my plan is quite sound, I assure you. We’ll be perfectly safe; his lordship will be there, after all.
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