I Thee Wed

by Amanda Quick

  “Yes,” she said. “We could certainly do with some assistance, Mr. Stokes. Mr. Crane, here, attempted to force himself on Polly. I hit him with the bedwarmer, as you can see. It appears that I struck him a bit too hard.”

  Polly moaned, “She killed him.”

  Edison ignored her. “Are you certain that he’s dead?”

  Polly whimpered. “He collapsed real sudden like, sir.”

  “He does feel quite limp,” Emma agreed.

  “Let’s make certain of our facts before we do anything so rash as to toss him down a flight of stairs,” Edison said. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it.”

  He closed the door behind him. Then he crossed the small room to where Crane lay on the floor. He went down on one knee and pressed two fingers to Crane’s pale throat.

  “A strong pulse.” Edison looked at Emma. “A very hard head, no doubt. He will live.”

  “He will?” Emma dropped Crane’s ankles. “Are you certain?”

  “Quite certain.”

  “Oh, ma’am.” Hope leaped in Polly’s face. “We are saved.” The hope vanished again in the next instant. “But when he comes to his senses, he’ll surely complain to the authorities. He’ll say you attacked him with that bedwarmer, Miss Greyson.”

  “No one,” Edison said calmly, “least of all Chilton Crane, will be complaining to the authorities. I think both of you have done enough. You must be quite exhausted after all your efforts. Allow me to tidy up in here.”

  Emma blinked. “How do you intend to do that, sir?”

  “I’ve always found that the simplest stories work the best, especially when one is dealing with creatures who possess simple minds.”

  “I don’t understand,” Emma said. “What will you do?”

  Edison bent down, grasped Crane’s inert body, and hoisted him over one shoulder with astonishing ease.

  “I shall take him to his bed chamber,” he said. “When he awakens, I will tell him that he suffered an accident. In my experience, people who have been knocked unconscious, however briefly, rarely recall the precise events leading up to the event. He’ll be obliged to believe whatever I tell him.”

  Emma pursed her lips. “He did not see me before I struck him, but he will surely remember that he dragged Polly in here and that he was attempting to abuse her when he had his, uh, accident. He may very well know that my chamber is on this floor. Mayhap he will guess that I—”

  “All will be well,” Edison said quietly. “Leave this to me. The only thing you and Polly must do now is keep silent about what went on here in this closet.”

  Polly shuddered. “I won’t say a word. I’d be afraid of what my Jack might do to Mr. Crane if he found out what almost happened here.”

  “Rest assured, I won’t discuss the matter,” Emma said crisply. She frowned at the sight of Crane’s body draped across Edison’s shoulder. “But getting him downstairs to his own bed chamber will not be easy. Someone will surely notice you on the stairs.”

  Edison looked unconcerned. “I shall use the back stairs.”

  A profound sense of relief swept through Emma. “I must say, this is really very decent of you, Mr. Stokes.”

  He raised his brows and gave her a disturbingly thoughtful look.

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

  Chapter Six

  “God!” Chilton Crane moaned weakly on the bed. “My head.”

  Edison turned away from the window where he had been keeping an impatient vigil. He drew his watch out of his pocket, opened the gold case, and glanced at the time.

  “I do not think you were badly hurt, Crane. You were only unconscious for a moment or two. You were extremely fortunate not to break your neck in that storage room. Whatever possessed you to go in there in the first place?”

  “Huh?” Crane stirred. His eyes fluttered open. He blinked several times and glared at Edison in evident bewilderment. “What happened?”

  “Don’t you recall?” Edison managed an expression of mild surprise. “I was on my way to my chamber when I heard unusual sounds coming from the floor above. I went up to investigate. I was just in time to see you open a storage room and enter it. You tripped over an old trunk that had been placed just inside.”

  “I did?” Crane gingerly touched the back of his head.

  “You must have struck your head on a shelf as you went down,” Edison said smoothly. “I am told that head injuries can be a bit tricky. You’ll no doubt want to spend the rest of the day here in bed.”

  Crane grimaced. “I’ve got a blinding headache, that’s for certain.”

  Edison smiled thinly “I’m not surprised.”

  “I shall have Ware send for the doctor.”

  “You must do as you please, of course, but I certainly would not want to trust my head to a country doctor.”

  Crane looked alarmed. “You’re right. Quacks, the lot of ‘em.”

  “What you need is rest.” Edison snapped his watch closed and dropped it back into his pocket. “You must excuse me. Now that you’ve recovered, I shall take myself off. Ware has invited the gentlemen to the billiard room.”

  Crane frowned. “Could have sworn there was a maid in that closet. Nice, full-bosomed gel. I remember thinking she would be well suited to a quick toss. I wonder if she—”

  Edison paused, his hand on the doorknob. “Good God, sir, are you about to tell me that one of the chambermaids refused your advances? How very amusing. I can only imagine what the others will say when you recount the events over port this evening.”

  Crane flushed a dull, unsightly red. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that I was certain there was someone about—”

  “I can assure you that there was no evidence of anyone else around when I found you, Crane. I saw only the trunk on the floor. Shall I summon your valet for you?”

  “Bloody hell,” Crane muttered. “Yes, please, by all means get Hodges in here. He will know what to do for my poor head. Devil take it, what an evil day this has been. I lost a hundred pounds at that race meeting, and now this.”

  “I rather think,” Edison said very softly, “that you should be grateful you did not break your neck when you tripped and fell.”

  Edison made his way back to Emma’s bed chamber, careful not to allow himself to be seen on the spiral stairs. He knocked softly. The door was opened at once.

  “For heaven’s sake, get in here before someone comes along, sir.”

  Amused by her sharp tone, Edison obeyed. Once inside, he turned to watch her lean out into the corridor to check the hall. When she was satisfied that no one had spotted him, she hastily shut the door and spun around to face him.

  “Well, Mr. Stokes? Did Crane believe your tale? Is he convinced that he tripped over a trunk?”

  Edison studied the chamber, absently inhaling the scent of herbal soap. It was the same fragrance he had savored last night in the close confines of the wardrobe. He was acutely conscious of the bed in the alcove.

  He forced his attention back to the matter at hand. “Whether or not Crane is convinced by the details I gave him, I cannot say. But he has no wish to admit that a lowly chambermaid might have rejected his advances or that she might have overpowered him in an attempt to escape. Regardless of what he believes, he will not contradict my version of events.”

  Emma’s brows arched above her gold spectacles. “Very clever, sir. Polly and I shall both be eternally grateful.”

  “You were the heroine of the day, Miss Greyson, not me. I do not like to think of what would surely have occurred in that chamber if you had not intervened with the bed warmer.”

  Emma shuddered. “I am not the least bit sorry that I struck him so hard, you know. I cannot abide that man.”

  “I assure you that Crane will eventually pay for his actions.”

  She looked startled. “He will?”

  Edison inclined his head. “I shall see to it. But these things take time to carry out properly.”

  “I don’t understand.”

/>   “Have you not heard that revenge is a dish that is best served cold?”

  Her eyes widened. “I do believe you mean that, sir.”

  “You may depend upon it.” He crossed the small distance that separated them and came to a halt directly in front of her. “I only wish, Miss Greyson, that I had been close at hand when you encountered Crane in that linen closet in Ralston Manor. My vengeance would have been very swift, indeed.”

  “I used a chamber pot on his head on that occasion.” She grimaced. “I did not succeed in striking him unconscious, only in dazing him. I must say, The Bastard has an extremely thick skull.”

  He smiled. “Are you saying that you, ah, managed to save yourself from Crane when he assaulted you at Ralston Manor?”

  “He did not succeed in forcing himself on me, if that is what you are asking.” She rubbed her arms briskly. “But he did cause me to lose my position. When my employer opened the door of the linen closet, we were both still on the floor. It was an awkward scene, to say the least. Lady Ralston naturally blamed me.”

  “I see.” He inclined his head. “Allow me to tell you that you are an extraordinary woman, Miss Greyson.”

  Emma stopped rubbing her arms. She dropped her hands to her sides and gave him a tremulous smile. “Thank you for what you did this afternoon, sir. Indeed, I do not know what to say. I am not accustomed to being rescued.”

  “It is obvious that you do not require rescue very often, Miss Greyson. I don’t believe that I have ever met anyone quite like you.”

  Her eyes were luminous and disconcertingly perceptive behind the lenses of her spectacles. He sensed that he was being assessed and weighed in the balance. He wondered if he would pass whatever test she was giving him.

  “The feeling is mutual, sir.”

  “Is it, indeed?”

  “Yes.” She sounded oddly breathless now. “I am quite certain that I have never met anyone like you, either, Mr. Stokes. My admiration for you is quite unlimited.”

  “Admiration,” he repeated neutrally.

  “And my gratitude also knows no bounds,” she assured him hastily.

  “Gratitude. How nice.”

  She clasped her hands together very tightly. “I promise you that I will never forget what you did for me today. Indeed, I shall make it a point to remember you in my evening prayers.”

  “How very thrilling for me,” he muttered.

  Her brows snapped together. “Mr. Stokes, I do not comprehend. If I have said anything to annoy you—”

  “What the devil makes you think that I’m annoyed?”

  “I suppose it is the way you are glaring at me. Oh dear, this is not going at all well, is it? Perhaps I should not try to explain myself further. I have not had much experience with this sort of conversation.”

  “Neither have I.”

  She raised her eyes to the ceiling in silent exasperation. Then, in a quick, wholly unexpected movement, she went up on her toes, braced her hands on his shoulders and brushed her mouth lightly against his.

  Edison froze, afraid that if he moved he would shatter the spell. It was Emma who broke the embrace. She gasped and blushed furiously as she stepped back.

  ”Forgive me, sir, I did not mean to embarrass you with my boldness. I apologize. I have obviously disconcerted you.”

  “I’ll get over it.”

  “That is the way the heroines in the horrid novels always thank the dashing heroes,” she said rather gruffly.

  “Is it? I can see I shall have to broaden my literary tastes.”

  “Mr. Stokes, please, you really must leave now. If anyone were to come upon us—”

  “Yes, of course. The virtue problem.”

  She glared at him. “You would not find it amusing if your own living depended on your reputation.”

  “Quite right. It was a thoughtless jest.” He followed her gaze to the door. He had no right to put her post as Lady Mayfield’s paid companion in jeopardy. If he got her dismissed without a reference, he would be no better than Chilton Crane in her mind. “You may ease your mind. I am on my way.”

  She touched his sleeve as he stepped around her. “What brought you to this floor at that particular moment?”

  He shrugged. “I noticed Crane making his way up the stairs. I was aware that your chamber was up here. I feared that he might have recalled where and when he had last seen you and had decided to ...”

  He let the sentence trail off unfinished.

  “I see. Very observant of you, sir.”

  He did not respond. There was no point telling her of the icy rage that had stormed through him when he had caught sight of Chilton on the rear stairs.

  Emma took her hand off his sleeve and rubbed her temples. “Heavens, what a day this has been.”

  Edison smiled slightly. “I just heard a very similar complaint from Crane.”

  “Did you? Hardly surprising. After that blow to his skull, he is no doubt also feeling somewhat dazed and out of sorts.”

  Alarm shot through him. “Are you feeling ill, Miss Greyson?”

  “Not any longer, thank heavens. But I was rather unwell earlier. That is the reason I was up here resting in my room and thus heard Crane attack Polly.”

  “Something you ate, perhaps?”

  Emma wrinkled her nose. “Something I drank. Lady Ames insisted we all try her special herbal tea, and then she forced us to play some silly guessing games.”

  Edison felt as if he had just shot to the surface of a deep lake and could suddenly see the shore.

  “Lady Ames fed you a special tea?” he repeated very carefully.

  “Ghastly stuff.” Emma made another face. “I cannot think why she would enjoy it. I don’t believe any of us actually finished a full cup. I could barely concentrate on her silly games.”

  Edison reached out and grasped her. “Describe these games to me, please.”

  Her eyes widened. She glanced uneasily at his hands on her shoulders. “I played only one of them. Lady Ames put a card facedown on a table. We all took turns trying to guess which one it was. I won, but I was feeling so unwell that I could not continue.”

  “You won?” Edison watched her. “You mean you guessed correctly?”

  “Yes. Pure chance, of course. I have always been rather good at that sort of thing. Lady Ames wanted me to continue with the game. Indeed, she got quite annoyed with me when I insisted upon going up to my room. But I really had no choice.”

  “Bloody hell.” Neither he nor Lorring had even considered the possibility that the thief who had stolen the recipe for the elixir might be a woman, Edison thought. It occurred to him that if he was, indeed, after a lady, a female assistant might prove extremely useful in his inquiries.

  “Miss Greyson, last night you told me that you are working as a paid companion in order to recover from recent financial reverses.”

  She grimaced. “Only necessity would convince any woman to take such a post.”

  “What would you say to an offer of a second, more lucrative position?”

  For an instant she looked utterly baffled. Then she flushed furiously. A cold light washed every trace of warmth out of her eyes. Beneath the sudden hostility lay something else, Edison thought. She looked both hurt and strangely disappointed.

  Nothing he had learned during his years of study in the gardens of Vanzagara, he reflected, had ever been of any use when it came to comprehending women.

  “No doubt you feel that I should be flattered by such an outrageous offer, sir,” she exploded softly. “But I assure you I am not yet that desperate.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Belatedly realization dawned. He groaned. “Oh, I see. You thought I was offering you a carte blanche?”

  She stepped out from under his hands, turned her back to him, and clenched her fists at her sides. “You and Lady Mayfield have a good deal in common, sir. She thinks that I ought to sell myself in marriage. You are suggesting a less formal contract. To me it is all one and the same thing. But I have no inte
ntion of taking either route. I will find another way out of this mess. I swear it.”

  He studied the determined line of her spine. “I believe you, Miss Greyson. But you mistook my meaning. I was not offering to make you my mistress. I was proposing to give you a position as my assistant.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, green eyes narrowed. “Your paid assistant?”

  He had her now. “You would not have to give up your current post with Lady Mayfield in order to enter my employ. In point of fact, your present position with her puts you in an ideal situation to perform your new duties for me.”

  A shrewd gleam danced in her vivid green eyes. “Are you saying that I would have two posts? That I could collect wages from both you and Lady Mayfield? Simultaneously?”

  “Exactly.” He paused deliberately. “I am not a clutch-fisted employer, Miss Greyson. I will reimburse you quite handsomely for your services.”

  She hesitated a few seconds longer. Then she swung fully around to face him. Hope bloomed in her face. “Could you be a bit more specific about what you mean by quite handsomely, sir?”

  He smiled slowly. The trick now was not to frighten her off by promising her a vast sum that would arouse her suspicions. He knew that as a professional companion she earned only a pittance, however. He wanted to dazzle her a bit.

  “Shall we say double your current wages?”

  She drummed her fingers on the bedpost. “My current arrangement with Lady Mayfield includes room and board as well as a quarterly stipend.”

  “Obviously I am not in a position to offer room and board.”

  “Obviously. Also, you will not need my assistance for long.”

  “True. Only for the rest of the week, at most, I should imagine.”