by Candace Camp
There were several audible indrawn breaths at his statement, and a small smile played over Richard’s lips.
“Ah,” he said. “I see that she failed to tell you that fact. Or you, Buckminster, when she persuaded you and the others to pressure the magistrate for his release. No doubt she told you only what a villain I was and how I had entrapped this poor man. But not a word of how he has been preying on commerce and travelers for the past few months. Not a word of how he and she have—”
“I say!” the usually easygoing Lord Buckminster barked, taking a step toward the man. “You better be prepared to meet me at dawn tomorrow if you missay my cousin.”
“Thank you, Bucky,” Nicola said with a smile.
“I am sure that Lord Exmoor is well aware of the consequences of saying anything slanderous,” Sebastian added warningly.
“It is no slander. Everyone knows that she ran to warn him. That is how we were able to capture the scoundrel. And obviously she knew where his hideout lay—and how else would she know it except if she met him there?”
“That is enough, Richard,” the Countess interrupted. “No more threats and posturings. Miss Falcourt has told me nothing,” she added truthfully. “I will not allow you to stand here in my own house and accuse me of lying. It is time for you to go. Past time. Squire Halsey.” She turned an icy stare on that poor man. “Take your friend and go. I suggest that you not return unless you are invited.”
This subtly veiled threat did not go unnoticed by the Squire, whose overbearing and socially ambitious wife would make his life a living hell if she were snubbed by the Countess during the upcoming wedding festivities. The man paled and beat a hasty retreat, hooking his arm through Richard’s and pulling him out the door with him.
The group they left behind stood in silence until at last they heard the front door close. They turned almost as one to face the Countess. Her piercing, regal gaze swept over her assembled family and came to rest on Nicola.
“All right, child. I suggest that you tell us exactly what is going on. And none of this twaddle that the lot of you have been talking so far. I want to know the truth.”
“Absolutely right, Mama,” Lady Ursula agreed, nodding her massive head. “A more silly story I never heard—out riding in the gig at dusk! Accosted by highwaymen!”
“Let them tell it, Ursula,” the Countess said calmly.
“Oh, my lady, I am so sorry!” Nicola cried, hurrying toward the Countess. “I should not have involved any of you. I should have done it myself. The last thing I wanted was to bring any harm to you.”
“I would like to see you try to have done it without us,” Penelope said stoutly.
“That’s right,” Alexandra agreed. “We all owed the highwayman a great deal. There was no chance that we were not going to return the favors that he has done us.”
“Who is this highwayman? What do you mean, you all owe him?” Ursula asked.
The Countess sighed. “I can see that this is going to take a long time in the telling. I believe I will sit down.” She did so, raising an aristocratic finger to point at Alexandra. “First you. How do you owe a highwayman anything?”
“He was the man who helped Sebastian and me when we were lost in that balloon,” Alexandra explained. “You remember us telling you about him.”
“Yes, of course.”
“He found us and gave us shelter and food, then took us to the village to catch the coach the next day.”
“Hardly sounds like a highwayman,” the Countess murmured.
“I know. He speaks and acts just like a gentleman. That is why they call him The Gentleman.”
“He did even more for Justin and me,” Marianne added. “If it had not been for him, we would probably have died in that mine. It was Jack who dug us out. So you can see that when we heard that he was in gaol, we could hardly stand by and let the man hang, even if he is a highwayman. When Nicola came to us—well, really, to Bucky—for help, we all insisted on helping her.”
“I see. It did not occur to you to help in the form of a good barrister?” the Countess asked. “Or in applying the pressure of several prominent families to obtain his release? You had to break into the gaol and haul him out?”
“We did try our influence first,” Sebastian protested, looking a trifle sheepish, but Lambeth only grinned and replied, “It did seem rather more fun.”
“Influence wasn’t enough,” Nicola assured her. “Bucky, Justin and Sebastian tried to help him because I asked them to, but neither the constable nor the magistrate dared go against Richard. He was adamant about seeing Jack go to trial—he has a personal vendetta against him.”
“Mmm. It sounds as if this ‘Gentleman’ had something of a vendetta against Richard,” the Countess pointed out.
“It’s true. He did,” Nicola admitted. “But he is not a bad man. I swear to you. Richard wronged him many years ago. Wronged him terribly. Richard almost killed him, and when he found out that he had not succeeded, he sent his men to kidnap Jack and give him to a press gang.”
“Good Lord!” Lady Buckminster exclaimed.
“That sounds vicious enough for Richard,” the Countess said. “What did he have against the man?”
“He wasn’t even a man then. He was a boy. Only a few years older than I. And the reason Richard hated him…” She cast a hesitant glance over at her sister.
“Go on,” Deborah said with a sigh. “I am well aware of how Richard felt about you.”
“Richard wanted me. He had offered for me. Then he found out that I was in love with Jack—he was known as Gil then, and…and he was a stable boy at Tidings.” She raised her chin defiantly. “I know you will think ill of me, my lady, for loving beneath my station. But I do not care for that! Jack was—is—the only man I have ever loved. He is a wonderful, good man—funny, handsome, brave, compassionate. I know that if you knew him, you would like him.”
“I think I would like to meet this young man,” the Countess responded. Nicola smiled, and the Countess continued, “But tell me what happened between him and Richard.”
“Exmoor found us one day where we would meet, up at the head of Lady Falls. He and Jack struggled. It was horrible, bloody, and I could not get them to stop, and finally Jack slid backward over the Falls. Richard said it was an accident, but Jack says it was not. He pushed him.”
“I do not doubt that.”
“We could not find him at the bottom of the Falls. I heard nothing from him for years. I thought he was dead. But he didn’t die. He was swept downstream and managed to crawl out. A farmer helped him. Jack—Jack sent me a letter, but I did not receive it. My mother got it and gave it to Richard instead. So Richard had him taken from the farmer’s house, and he told Jack that it was I who had betrayed him. All these years, Jack thought I was treacherous. I believed he was dead. I had nothing of him but the ring he had given me.”
“An engagement ring?”
“No. It is a man’s ring. Quite ordinary-looking, really, but it meant a great deal to Jack. You see, it was all he had of his father.” Nicola went up to her, pulling the chain out from beneath her dress and slipping it off over her head. She held it out to the Countess, saying, “I have kept it with me all these years. It—what’s the matter? My lady?”
The Countess had taken the ring in her hand, then had gone dead still, her face draining of color. She stared at the ring, not speaking.
“Mama?” Lady Ursula crowded in beside her anxiously. She looked down at the ring, then exclaimed, “Good God!”
“What? What is it?” Nicola looked from one to the other.
“What did you say Jack said about this ring?” the Countess asked her, her eyes bright, two red spots of color suddenly bursting on the paleness of her face.
“Why, only that he knew little about it. His mother told him that it was his father’s, a keepsake. He never knew his father, so it was precious to him.”
“Where is this man?” the Countess asked. “This highwayman. I want to see
him.”
“Right now?” Nicola asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“Grandmama, what is wrong?” Alexandra asked as she and Marianne joined the little knot.
“Nothing.” The Countess stood, holding up a hand as if to deflect all conversation. She turned to Nicola. “Where is he?”
“Here. I—I can fetch him if you wish.”
“I do wish it. I must talk to him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
JACK WAS NOT IN THE ATTIC. EVEN WHEN she called his name, he did not answer. Panic rose in Nicola’s throat, and she turned and hurried back down the stairs to the hall below. She started down the hall, and as she did, she noticed that one of the doors stood open. She went to the doorway and looked inside. It was obviously the nursery, long unused, with toys and books put neatly away into cabinets. Jack sat at the child-size table, and even as worried as she was, Nicola had to laugh at the absurdity of his long legs doubled up as he sat in the little chair. He turned, startled, and gave her a sheepish grin.
“Whatever are you doing in here? You scared me.”
“Sorry. I’m not sure exactly what I’m doing,” he replied, frowning. “I feel…unsettled. I wanted to look at things.” He shook his head and smiled. “I’m being stupid. What I should be doing is riding away. I can’t stay here and endanger these people. It was risky enough for them to get me out of gaol. To stay here and continue to put them in danger would be the work of a scoundrel.”
“They want to help you. You once saved their lives, and they feel that they are returning the favor. Besides, there is not a person in this house with any fondness for Exmoor. You cannot leave yet. Exmoor was just here. He and his men are out searching everywhere. Give it a day or two, and when the hunt has died down, you can go—and I will go with you.”
He turned to her, and there was a look in his eyes of such love and longing that it made Nicola’s heart twist in her chest. “No. I cannot ask that of you. It is too dangerous.”
“Do you not want me with you? When you said tonight that you loved me, did you not mean it?”
“Of course I meant it,” Jack retorted roughly. “I love you. I have loved you for ten years. Even when I hated you, I loved you. But you cannot marry a highwayman.”
“Do you intend to continue this vocation?”
“Of course I’m not going to continue. I shall go home—well, back to America.”
“I will go with you.”
“Nicola—think. I am not poor, but I have nothing like the sort of wealth that you are accustomed to.”
“Still you think that matters to me? Have you learned nothing? I love you, and I want to be with you, and that is all I care about!”
Jack reached out and grabbed her arms, pulling her to him fiercely. “My beautiful, wonderful girl,” he murmured in a low voice. “How could I ever have doubted you? I was such a fool.” He bent and took her lips in a long, searing kiss.
When at last he raised his head, his voice was a trifle unsteady. “If that is truly what you want, we will marry and go back to the United States. But I will send for you when I am safely away. Or we can meet in London. You can go home, and I will come to you. But I refuse to allow you to ride out with me. What if we did not make it? What if they captured you? I could not let you be caught aiding and abetting a thief. Or worse—you could be shot.”
“None of that will happen, because we will wait here until the hue and cry dies down. Then we will go, and no one will stop us. I will not let you go again, Jack, not even for a few days. I have seen what fate can deal out. I lost you once, and I will not risk losing you again.”
“You will never lose me,” he promised, and wrapped his arms around her again, pressing her to his chest. “Not even if you try.”
“Then you agree that I will come with you when you leave?”
“I agree that we will talk about it further,” Jack replied in an amused voice. Reluctantly, he released her and stepped back. “Now, tell me about Exmoor. What happened?”
Nicola quickly related the events of Exmoor’s visit, concluding with the Countess’s sending him on his way. “You should have seen her, Jack. She was magnificent. Not a single intimation that she knew we were all lying through our teeth. Didn’t turn a hair at all of Richard’s accusations. Just looked like a queen and dismissed him and the Squire. Poor Squire Halsey looked as if he wished he were anywhere but here.”
“She sounds like quite a lady.”
“She is. And she wants to meet you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. After Richard left, of course she wanted to know what was going on, and we explained about you, and she said that she wanted to meet you. That is why I came up here, to take you down to see her.”
Jack looked uneasy. “I don’t know. I have never met a countess before.”
“Don’t be absurd. You’ve met higher than that. Lambeth is a marquess. He will be a duke and Marianne a duchess one day.
“That was different.”
“Come on.” Nicola took his hand and pulled him toward the door. “I have never seen you back down before anyone yet. She is a woman. I am sure that you will charm her silly.”
WHEN THEY WALKED INTO THE DRAWING room, the tension in the air was palpable. Jack came to a halt, and Nicola glanced up at him. He wore an odd expression as he looked around the room. His gaze finally settled on the Countess, and Nicola felt his arm go rigid beneath her hand.
The Countess rose, her eyes fixed on Jack. “Come here.”
Jack hesitated, then started toward her, Nicola by his side. Nicola glanced around at her friends, but their faces, all turned toward Jack, gave nothing away. They reached the Countess, and Jack swept her an elegant bow.
“Jack Moore, my lady, at your service.”
“Mr. Moore.” The older woman’s voice was tight, almost breathless. “I hope you will not think me rude, but I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Of course, my lady. I shall do my best to answer them.”
The Countess opened her hand to reveal Jack’s ring, lying on her palm. “This ring—where did you get it?”
Jack looked surprised; this was obviously not the sort of question he had been expecting. “Why, from my mother, my lady. It belonged to my father, she said, and I was to keep it forever.”
“So this was nothing that you found, say? I promise you, I do not care if you took it or found it. I just need to know.”
Jack frowned. “No, I did not find it—or steal it, if that is what you are saying. I will swear an oath, if you like. My mother gave it to me, and those were her words. I cannot swear to you that what she said was the truth. I think she often tried to…I don’t know, make me feel better.”
“Better? What do you mean?”
“I was very sick when I was a child.”
Lady Ursula drew a sharp breath, and Jack glanced at her. He stared at her for a moment, his forehead creasing. But the Countess drew his attention sharply back to her.
“You were sick? How old were you?”
“I—I’m not sure. Eight or nine, I guess. I don’t remember much from it, but those are the earliest memories I have, of being very sick, and of Mother and Granny Rose taking care of me. I was weak for a long time afterward, and I was…unhappy much of the time. I guess it was because I couldn’t go out and play for so long. I’m not really sure. I just remember being sad. I hated being confined to the bed, but I was too weak to do much of anything. So Mother would tell me stories, and once she gave me this ring and told me that it was my father’s and that I must keep it.”
“Did she…tell you anything about your father?”
Jack shifted his feet, looking embarrassed. “Only silly stories, nothing real.”
Everyone, absorbed in what Jack was saying, was looking at him and the Countess. No one even heard the faint sounds in the outer hall, but then the door crashed open, and everyone jumped, whirling around to face the door. In the doorway stood the Earl of Exmoor, the magistrate on one si
de of him and the Bow Street Runner, Stone on the other. Exmoor held a pistol in his hand, and Stone, a musket. Behind them stood the other men, looking uncomfortable.
“There you are, Halsey!” Exmoor said, his voice rich with satisfaction. “I told you he was here. I knew they were hiding him.”
The Squire wrung his hands, glancing guiltily toward the Countess. “Still, sir, we have no right to be here….”
“The devil take it!” Richard said impatiently, starting forward, shoving the pistol into his waistband and stretching out a hand to seize Jack.
The Countess rose, her blue eyes blazing, and swept in front of Jack. “You will not touch him!” she commanded, looking for all the world like an avenging angel. “If you lay a hand on this man or harm him in any way, I promise you that I will not rest until you are utterly destroyed.”
Everyone in the room stopped, staring at the Countess, taken aback by the vision of fury. Then Alexandra’s crisp cool voice rang out, “I have him, Grandmama.”
She stood there in her elegant gown, a small pistol aimed directly at Richard’s heart.
“No, Mr. Stone,” Lord Thorpe said. “Raise that musket and you’re a dead man.”
Stone, who held a musket loosely in his hand, glanced at Lord Thorpe. Thorpe, too, held a very serviceable dueling pistol, aimed directly at Stone. Stone’s eyes moved a fraction and he saw that Lord Lambeth, too, held a gun leveled at Richard.
“You will die first, Exmoor,” Lambeth said casually. “You know that I am a crack shot, and I have it on the best of authority that Lord Thorpe is no slouch with a pistol, either. Or Lady Thorpe, for that matter. American, you know.”
“Don’t be a fool. You wouldn’t shoot me. You would hang.”
“I expect that I would receive a medal, rather,” Lambeth replied. “At any rate, you would not be around to see it. You would have a ball in the head and another in the heart.”
“Put down your gun, Exmoor,” Lord Thorpe commanded, and Richard, with a blazing glance of hatred toward him, dropped the pistol to the floor.