If He's Dangerous

by Hannah Howell

  “Why?” asked Lady Olympia. “This is but one, mayhap a small group, but no real threat.”

  “There are those of us, Olympia, who have gifts many would covet. If this man, or men, share their belief that somehow those gifts may be taken or not, then none of us are safe. This has to be ended here and now before the poison spreads.”

  “I agree,” said Lord Iago. “Think, Olympia. Think of what some of us can do. It is not hard to see how greedy men or men in search of a way to grasp power could think to use those gifts for their own gain.”

  Lady Olympia sighed and there was a fleeting look on her face, one of such profound sadness, it made Lorelei want to pat her hand. She restrained herself from doing so and from feeding her curiosity by asking exactly what gifts they were all thinking of. What Sir Argus could do was fascinating. She could only guess at some of the gifts the others in his family might have. It was possible that some of the things her father had talked about were not simply the imaginings of people who paid too much heed to rumors. Then again, in the not too distant past, it needed only a rumor to have one decried as a witch, tortured, and executed in a variety of cruel ways.

  “How will you find these men?” she finally asked.

  “The one who imprisoned Sir Argus is known by name, but none of his allies are. And I suspect the man who held Sir Argus prisoner is deep in hiding.”

  “The first thing we will do is go to the place where they held Argus,” said Lady Olympia.

  “I can show you to the place in the morning,” said Argus.

  “No, you cannot. You still have some healing to do.” Any argument Argus was inclined to make was halted by a sudden noise in the front hall. It sounded as if someone had just burst into the house. The noise of rapidly approaching footsteps brought everyone to their feet. The men stepped in front of her and Olympia before Lorelei could move to see what was happening.

  The door to the parlor burst open and her two cousins, Cyrus and Peter, ran in only to stumble to an abrupt halt. They were in sad shape, covered with dust and looking very sweaty. A heartbeat later they also looked terrified, every drop of color in their overheated faces disappearing. Lorelei was a little afraid they were about to swoon. She peered around Argus to see what had her cousins looking so terrified. All four men had pistols aimed straight at her cousins’ hearts.

  Chapter 7

  “Damn my eyes, I think my heart stopped.” Cyrus blushed and looked at Lady Olympia. “Pardon, m’lady.”

  Lorelei idly wondered why she did not deserve a pardon as well. Her cousins still looked a little pale, but Peter had already recovered enough to help himself to some food and drink. She told herself to try to watch how much of the wine he drank, for he had very little tolerance for it.

  “Why are you back here so soon after you fled like little cowards?” she asked, smiling at the glares her cousins gave her. “Papa is not that scary.”

  “He is when he is trying to dig the truth out of you,” muttered Peter. “And acting like the duke.”

  “He is the duke.”

  “You know what I mean, Lolly.”

  “Yes, I suppose I do. So, why have you raced back here?”

  “Have some bad news,” Cyrus said after hastily swallowing the biscuit he had filled his mouth with.

  Lorelei exchanged a worried glance with Argus before asking, “What bad news?”

  “I think those men who took Sir Argus may know who got him out of that prison.” He flushed when everyone stared at him. “Someone beat poor old Chambers near to death. He managed to tell us they were asking about a Sir Argus Wherlocke.”

  “Is Chambers going to recover?” Lorelei allowed her very real concern for the aging gamekeeper to hold back the fear for Argus that was already churning in her stomach.

  “Mrs. Ratchet thinks so, but he will be abed for a long time. The only other thing he said was that the beating got real fierce because he thought they finally believed him when he said he did not know what they were talking about. Either they got very mad or they meant to kill him. Papa has all our people on guard now.”

  “And we shall put ours on guard as well.”

  Even though she recognized her father’s voice, Lorelei was startled to see him standing in the doorway. Argus and his family looked far more than startled. She wondered if it was because they believed at least one of them should have realized her father was there. As their shock eased, however, Argus’s three cousins looked as if they were about to pull out their pistols again.

  “Papa!” Lorelei hastily cried, making it clear that this man was no threat. “I thought you were with the boys at the pond.”

  “We were on our way back when I saw these two lads”—he nodded at Cyrus and Peter—“riding for here as if the devil himself was snarling at their heels. Sent the boys on to the house with their tutor. Gave Pendleton our bucket of fish to take to the cook.”

  It was difficult to swallow the laugh tickling her throat, but Lorelei managed. Later she would savor the image of the prim, meticulous Pendleton handed a bucket of smelly fish. The man will probably demand a bath and all his clothing aired, she thought, and then had to bite back a grin.

  “So, Sir Argus, I see your family has finally arrived,” her father said, smiling at everyone, who now scrambled to their feet as he approached them.

  Lorelei had to wonder what Argus’s family thought of her father. He looked less like a duke than he usually did with mud caked on his boots and splattered on his breeches. His hair was windblown into an untidy mess. His valet had given up years ago, contenting himself with simply making sure the duke was decently attired when he left his bedchamber, and saved his moments of sartorial elegance for the rare times her father went to some important event. She saw no lack of respect in the faces of Argus’s family, however, as the introductions were made.

  “Sit,” the duke said. “All of you, please sit. I am getting a pain in my neck from looking up at you all and I had never thought of myself as short.” Without waiting to see if they obeyed, he sat down on the arm of Lorelei’s chair and looked at Cyrus and Peter. “So there was some trouble at Dunn Manor, was there? Your father is well though, I hope.”

  Cyrus nodded and explained why they had come back. “’Tis why we raced here. Thought it was something Sir Argus should know as soon as possible and Papa agreed. After he burned our ears for keeping secrets,” he added in a sullen voice.

  “And so he should have. Be grateful a little ear-burning is all he did. But, good work, lads, for this is indeed something Sir Argus should know.”

  The duke turned his head to look at Argus, and Lorelei knew exactly when her father spotted the food set out upon the small table centered amongst the settees and chairs. His face lit up like a child’s. Her father loved so many foods she was astonished that he was not as round as a ball.

  “Ah, bless me, lemon tarts.” He grabbed one and hummed lightly with pleasure as he ate it. “Excellent. Now, Sir Argus, have you and your family made any plans yet? It does appear that your enemy is close at hand and determined to get you back. Or silence you.” He listened intently as the Wherlockes and Vaughns told him what they had been discussing. “Why do you wish to see where he was kept?” he asked Lady Olympia. “Not a thing a young woman ought to be seeing, is it?”

  After studying the duke, Cyrus, and Peter carefully, Lady Olympia replied, “I may gain some information needed to put an end to this threat. We believe the threat could be aimed at all of us, not just Argus. He was merely the first one they tried to get hold of.”

  “Quite right. He is not the only gifted one in your family. Do you think this Cornick fellow left a clue behind at that house?”

  “Yes, but not as you think. I am able to see, well, the memory a person or event leaves behind. If I can go to that house, walk around it, I may be able to gain some important information from the memories of what happened there. When the event is born of violence, as this would be, the memories are often very clear.”

  “S
uch a wonder,” he murmured. “Of course you must go.”

  “I thought I could take them there in the morning,” said Sir Argus.

  “No, that will not do at all. Bouncing around on the back of a horse will set back all the healing in your ribs. If it was but a short ride, one that could be done in a day at an easy pace to and fro, mayhap you could do it. That is not the case here. No, these lads will show your family the way. I cannot see that you would have seen much of the way to get there anyway, not in the sad condition you must have been in then. I have a fine stable of horses to choose from and will tell Gregor One that you will be needing some strong mounts come the morning.”

  Argus really wanted to argue that plan, but could not. The duke was right. He had seen nothing of the ride from his prison to Dunn Manor and just a little when they traveled to Sundunmoor. Pain had consumed him. He could easily get them all lost. This was his fight, however, and he wanted to be in on it. The fact that his injuries still prevented him from joining in the hunt for his enemies was beyond irritating.

  “You shall have your turn soon,” said the duke, and Argus feared his frustration was far too clear to read on his face.

  “Max believes it will be but a few more days,” said Lorelei.

  “Let us hope Max is right,” said Argus. “I need to stop this fool.”

  “Max is usually right.” The duke smiled and stood up, quickly snatching up another lemon tart. “Now, lads,” he said to Peter and Cyrus, “go on up to the house and clean up. This parlor begins to smell of sweaty horses.”

  Peter and Cyrus quickly departed. Lorelei wondered why her cousins were always so intimidated by her gentle father. She suspected their mother, who was awed by the fact that her family was now related to a duke, had something to do with that. Her father spoke and drew her attention back from thoughts of trying to get their mother to stop seeing her father as something close to a king.

  “I shall send some servants to aid you during your stay here,” said her father.

  “Very kind, Your Grace,” said Lady Olympia, “but we would prefer that the servants do not move in here with us. You know about us, but we would rather the servants did not learn too much. If you would permit, I could set up a schedule that would give us any help we need yet allow us the privacy we find so necessary. I will send for a few servants of our own, if I may, and then they can relieve your people of the care of us.”

  “You have servants you trust so completely? Ones who do not fear what you can do?”

  “There are two families that have given us faithful servants for generations. There are a few others who are not from those families, but choosing the right servants for ones like us takes a lot of time and must be done with extreme care.”

  “Of course. Well, I will send some to air out the rest of the rooms here and bring you some supplies. They should arrive within the hour. We dine at seven and would greatly appreciate your company. Just a warning that most of the family joins me at the evening meal.”

  The duke nodded at the Wherlockes and Vaughns and then left. Lorelei could see by the thoughtful looks on the faces of Argus’s family that they were trying to decide exactly what sort of man her father was. Most people did and most of them failed, if only because they became too set upon the fact that he was a duke.

  “You need not worry about the crowd at the evening meal,” she said. “It will not be as large as it sometimes is. My three eldest brothers are in Greece with two of my cousins who live here. My brother Winslow is staying with a friend of his in Surrey.” She frowned as she tried to think of any others who were away from home at the moment. “The two youngest are not allowed to dine with us yet and the twins Axel and Wolfgang still have a few days of punishment remaining for demonstrating the waltz on the table just as dessert was being served about a fortnight ago.” She smiled when the men laughed and Lady Olympia just shook her head and grinned. “We do still have five cousins staying with us, plus five of my brothers who have not done anything to be banished from the dinner table. Yet.”

  “Your father takes in a lot of your cousins, does he?” asked Argus.

  “We have room and the tutors needed to ready the boys for school. With seventeen children, Papa has more than enough skilled people at work in the house to add a few more now and then. He is also godfather to a vast army of children, takes in any of the family who are orphaned, or those whose parents have fallen on very hard times. The entire Prudhome family live in a part of the east wing, mother, father, grandmother, and three children, but you will probably not see them either as they are battling a severe bout of the ague right now.”

  “Your father likes a full house, does he?”

  “Papa does not care if the place is bursting at the seams with people as long as they stay out of his library. He spends a great deal of his time there. The number of family within the main house is one reason this place is kept empty. Some people do not like the way Papa allows the children to be seen and heard.”

  After a few moments of idle conversation about her family, Lorelei left. She knew they needed time to talk amongst themselves. Argus’s family did not know her, except that she was the one who had rescued and sheltered Argus, so they did not yet feel comfortable speaking with complete freedom while she was there. It was understandable, but she hoped it would soon change for, with every kiss he stole, and despite the way he then pushed her away, Lorelei knew Sir Argus was the man she wanted. She had plans to join that family.

  “So that was the Duke of Sundunmoor,” said Leopold and then grinned. “A pleasant fellow, if a bit odd. The talk of who stays there and whom he supports does make me wonder if he is being poorly used by his family, however.”

  “I think he is too intelligent to be used for long, but, even if he does not see when it is done, Max does,” said Argus. “The butler is the common sense the easily distracted duke sometimes lacks. And, the duke heeds the man’s words.” He turned his attention to his sister. “You are determined to go to that house, I suppose.”

  “Argus, you know full well that I have a good chance of finding some useful information,” said Olympia.

  Even as he tried to think of a way to tell her why he would rather she did not enter his prison, the servants from the main house arrived. Leo’s men, Wynn and Todd, followed on their heels with the luggage. Argus promised himself that he would find time to speak with Olympia before she left in the morning. Knowing what she might read in the charged air left behind by his ordeal, he could not let her walk in there blind.

  He and his family retired to the surprisingly spacious garden while the servants worked to make the gatehouse ready for so much company. They worked with an efficiency that astonished him and every single one of them was clean and genial, and had a glow of health about them that too few servants did. Argus had to approve of the way the duke treated his servants.

  They were able to get back into the house in plenty of time to prepare for dinner with the duke and his family. Argus had barely led his family through the door into the dining room, Olympia on his arm, when he nearly stumbled in surprise. If not for the wide range of ages of the people moving to stand by their seats, it could have been an elegant dinner party at any of the homes of the highest echelons of society. Everyone was dressed in his or her best clothes and the table was set as if the king himself was expected to attend.

  To his dismay he found himself seated next to Lorelei. She looked beautiful in her dark green gown that complemented her fine eyes. The delicate lace fichu tucked into the low neckline to make it appear more modest did its work well, yet then tempted a man to keep trying to see the shadow of the cleft between her fine breasts through the lacy web. Her thick dark red hair was elegantly done, a rope of fine pearls woven through it and several fat curls dangling down to brush teasingly against the smooth skin of her shoulder. She smelled so good he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from burying his nose in the curve where her long slim neck met her shoulder.

  He forced his attent
ion to the others at the table, noticing that Leopold had been set at the duke’s right side and the two men were deep in conversation. Argus suspected that, despite the way he often lost himself in his books and papers, or even because of all that reading, the duke knew a great deal about the world around him. Olympia was seated between the two Dunn lads, who appeared to be cursed with a tendency to blush. Iago was seated next to a young girl who could barely have stepped out of the schoolroom and who appeared to be awestruck by her dinner companion. A quick head count revealed that there were eight and thirty people at the table, and he could recall the names of only a few despite having been formally introduced to them all. Then he saw that there was another table set far in the corner where a man, a woman, and six young children sat.

  “What is that over there?” he asked Lorelei.

  “Ah, it is the night when the ones who will soon join us at this table are allowed to be in the room as they are taught their table manners,” she replied.

  “You will soon need a bigger table.”

  “Oh, we have one in the formal dining room.”

  He blinked, glanced around the huge room, and decided not to ask where that was and just how huge that table was. Then the old woman on his other side started to talk to him. He savored the delicious food served and tried to be polite to the woman, who rambled on at his side, not much of what she said making any sense to him. Then suddenly the old woman leaned around him and said to Lorelei, “A dark blue, eh, gel?”

  “Oh, yes, Aunt Gretchen. That would be lovely,” replied Lorelei.

  Aunt Gretchen looked Argus up and down as if he were a horse she meant to purchase and then muttered, “Long.” She scowled at the other men in the family. “Huh. All long. A nice gray, two shades of green.” She studied Olympia. “And a fine bright blue.” She then turned and began to speak to the youth seated at her side whose name Argus could not quite recall.