Dancing with a Rogue (38 page)

Just as he turned, a shriek broke the tense silence.

And it came from Monique's room.

Chapter Twenty-one

“My bracelet is gone.”

Monique's cry was followed by the door to her room being thrown open.

She emerged in a night robe, her hair braided, her gray eyes sleepy and sooty looking, and her expression outraged.

She had never looked so appealing to him. She was the essence of righteous indignation.

“Someone,” she continued in a low, moderated but very passionate voice, “has been in my room ruffling through my personal belongings. I want to see Lord Stanhope.”

It was all he could do to keep from smiling. He had seen her on stage. He had watched her beguile men who usually couldn't be beguiled. He had seen her anger and her passion and even her vulnerability.

Now her eyes flashed, and her face was flushed as she confronted a hall filled with men in what some would call dishabille. Their attention was certainly diverted.

“Lord Stanhope,” she said again. “Where is he? This is an outrage.”

Stanhope unfortunately chose that moment to emerge from his room. It was the first time he was not impeccably dressed. His cravat was in disarray. His shirt was not completely buttoned. His eyes were red, and lines of strain creased his face.

Control and appearances had always been Stanhope's weapons. This weekend had obviously had several purposes, one of which was to win the wager. Another, Gabriel suspected, was to lure him even deeper into a web and possibly show important friends that Gabriel was a weak and incompetent man desperate for money.

Thanks to Monique, Stanhope's house party was in complete chaos, his closest business associate accused of intending to harm, even kill a guest, and Monique, whom he had wanted to impress with his wealth, had been robbed.

Gabriel almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.

Monique ignored him, turning her rage on Stanhope. “I want to return to London tonight. Myself and my maid. I would not feel safe one more moment in this … place. And I expect you to find the villain who robs helpless women.”

“Hear, hear,” said a man who Gabriel remembered was a baron and a member of the Parliament. “I also will take my leave immediately. My wife is distraught from all this business.”

Stanhope shook his head. “My butler will search all the servants.”

The baron drew himself up. “My servants have been with me for years. They are above reproach, Stanhope. I resent your implication. My wife and I are leaving immediately.”

“I will also be leaving as soon as our coach is ready and my lady and I are packed,” said the man who had met Gabriel on the staircase when he'd first arrived. The man who'd barely managed to be civil to Gabriel earlier turned to him. “Are you going; too, Manchester?”

“Abominable situation,” Gabriel agreed. “But I am sure that Lord Stanhope will find the culprit. Or make good our losses.”

Stanhope looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“I am still leaving, my lord. I trust you will have the coach ready within the next hour,” Monique said. She turned away and stalked down the hall.

Gabriel was filled with admiration. She would be gone with the jewels—

Stanhope started to go after her. “It is dangerous on the road at night,” he said. “You should wait until tomorrow.”

“My maid is hysterical,” Monique said. “For her sake alone, we must go. She is a timid soul and fears for her life.” She turned and walked into her room, closing the door behind her.

Gabriel swallowed a smile. He had never seen anyone less timid than Dani.

“Perhaps my man can ride inside and I will ride alongside the coach,” he said to Stanhope. “Smythe is an ex-soldier and very capable of protecting the ladies.”

“I will go myself,” Stanhope said.

Gabriel shrugged. “If you wish, but you have guests. I have none.”

He watched as Stanhope obviously weighed his alternatives.

“Stanhope,” Gabriel said, “you can make amends later. I will make her understand this is not your fault.”

Stanhope whirled on him, rage in his eyes. If there had not been others present, Gabriel knew the man would have struck him in pure fury over carefully laid plans destroyed.

Stanhope was a man who needed to control. He evidently knew little about failure.

He was going to learn.

After a moment Stanhope seemed to gain control.

“How long has your man been with you?” Stanhope demanded.

“He was a soldier of the Crown,” Gabriel said. “He has impeccable references.” Really, Smythe had no references at all. Gabriel hadn't felt he needed them, but he was not going to say that to Stanhope. He did not want Smythe implicated in any way.

“When did you get back to the house?” Stanhope then asked.

“After supper,” Gabriel said carelessly, ignoring the obvious implication. “You were right, the maze is difficult. I thought you might send someone when I did not appear at supper, especially after the mishap on the hunt. Perhaps you really do not wish a partnership. I will look elsewhere,” he added with indignation.

“My butler was told specifically that you did not want any assistance,” Stanhope replied with a shrug. “If I had thought for a moment that you were afraid …”

Gabriel had baited Stanhope as much as he could about the maze. Now he had something else to worry the man. “I am grateful for being invited to your home, Stanhope, but I would feel safer in my own lodgings in London. I thought England to be a safe place and America a wild, undisciplined land. Now I know I was mistaken.”

“You will leave England?”

“Eventually. I do want to talk to some people who knew my father,” Gabriel said. “Just before coming here, I met someone who claimed my father should not have killed himself, that the charge of treason had been false.”

“Who could that have been? The Crown prosecutors were very sure,” Stanhope said sharply. “It is common knowledge …”

Gabriel shrugged. “Someone disputes the common belief.”

“And who would that be? Why would he not have come forward earlier and saved your father?”

“I understand he was afraid,” Gabriel said. “I do not know whether I should believe it or not, but I feel I should hear him out.”

“Who is it?” Stanhope asked again, this time with a trace of fear.

“I would rather not say until I know his tale is true,” Gabriel said. “I am to meet with him next week.”

He watched as Stanhope's usually emotionless eyes blinked. “Maybe you can remember something …”

Several other guests were still hesitant and standing around.

Stanhope broke away and approached them. “If you will feel safer, I will place footmen outside your rooms. You will be safer here tonight than on the roads. I beg of you to give us an opportunity to find the culprit.”

One by one, mumbling as they moved along the hall, the guests dispersed. As the last one departed to his room, Monique and Dani reappeared at their door. Gabriel had never thought that women could dress so quickly. Monique's hair was no longer in a braid but dressed neatly in a bun and framed by a hat. She wore a cloak that covered whatever she wore beneath.

“You cannot leave without escort,” Stanhope said. “There are thieves and highwaymen on the road at night. Manchester has offered to escort you, or I can send men of my own.”

“Lord Manchester will be suitable,” Monique said. “He has come to my assistance before.” Then she seemed to soften. “I will see you in London.”

Stanhope bowed. “It will be my honor,” he said. “And I assure you that I will recompense you for your loss. If you could tell me something about the bracelet …”

“It is but a trifle but meaningful to me. It is the only thing I have left of my mother's.” Tears appeared at the edges of her eyes. “I truly do not know why someone would take it. It had only a few gems of poor quality.”

“I will attempt to find something that will be equally as memorable.”

“There is no need, my lord.”

“There is every need. Your mother … she is still alive?”

“No. She died several years ago. She was very beautiful.”

“I would expect nothing else,” Stanhope said. “I am very sorry.”

“I must go,” she said. “Lord Stanhope, can you help us with our trunks?”

Stanhope had no choice now. “As you wish. I will have a man ride ahead and make sure you will be accommodated at the inn.”

He looked at Monique, then at Manchester. For a split second Gabriel thought he saw suspicion in the man's eyes, but if so it disappeared quickly.

“I am in your debt,” Stanhope said stiffly. “And I plead with you not to open old wounds. Most likely, someone believes they can take money from you.”

“I will remember that caution,” Manchester said. “You have been a friend to me, and I will not forget it. Now if you would send someone for my valet …”

He bowed to Monique. “It will not take us long.”

He would make bloody damn sure it would not take long.

He wanted Monique out of the house before Stanhope had second thoughts.

Monique watched the interplay between Dani and Manchester's valet as Stanhope's coach bounced over rough roads.

She kept listening for other riders, for a resultant search of her and Dani or perhaps of Manchester's man. She heard none.

Dani and the big soldier named Sydney Smythe said little, but their eyes had barely left one another.

“Do you miss being a soldier?” Dani asked after several moments in the coach.

“No, miss. Being a soldier means freezing nights and broiling days, and poor food, months of waiting, then …”

“Then?” Dani had prompted.

“It is not a good thing to kill other men just because they live in a different place or have a ruler that tells them they must fight,” he said with sudden intensity even as he darted a look at Monique.

Smythe was obviously awkward in her presence. He'd said little, when they left, but he had helped Dani into the coach, leaving Monique to his employer. The man was impeccably correct, though he looked rougher and certainly much larger than any of the other valets she'd seen. She'd wondered whether men did not want to seem overshadowed by their servants.

Manchester certainly had no such fear. When they were alone, he showed a natural confidence that no one could feign. He could try to hide it and had been successful with people who did not see those few private moments she had seen. They had not expected anything more than what he'd pretended to be, mainly because of their own arrogance and feeling of superiority.

She thought of him riding outside the coach. He had assured her that his horse was well enough to carry him, that he had padded the wound. He would ride with them in the coach during the daylight, but he too had heard that bandits haunted this road at night. He told her quietly that he had brought a brace of pistols with him.

She felt safer than she had ever felt in her life. She had no reason other than that sense of capability. And now Smythe. There was something about him as well, a protectiveness that warmed.

He certainly was no ordinary valet.

She thought with gentle amusement of the way Dani and Smythe alternated between trying not to look at each other and being unable to keep their eyes from one another. Had she and Manchester been that obvious?

Monique would have thought that Smythe's sheer size would have intimidated Dani, but her friend had not hesitated for a second before taking his hand. It still amazed her, and yet she had seen Smythe's gentleness when he'd held out his hand to Dani and held it a moment too long. She was happy for Dani. The two had no obstacles in the way of romance, not like she and Manchester.

It was extremely irritating that nothing had cooled the fire between them. It had taken every bit of her acting experience not to show any reaction to him, especially in the hall outside Stanhope's room. He'd looked uncommonly attractive as he had offered her his protection, much to Stanhope's chagrin.

But there could be no future for them. He was still a lord of the realm. He was a marquess, and even if that were not true he was obviously a man of substance. Those men did not marry actresses who pitted men against one another. And she had no intentions of becoming a man's mistress. She had seen what it did to her mother. She would never put herself in that position.

After taking care of Stanhope, she planned to concentrate on her career, make enough money to retire comfortably somewhere where no one knew her. She would never allow herself to be a victim, to make herself subservient to another person.

She closed her eyes, tried not to think of Manchester riding outside. But she smiled inwardly. She and Manchester had done a good day's work tonight.

And to her astonishment, it felt good she had not had to do it alone.

The journey to London was long. And yet … not long enough. At its end Gabriel would have to find a way to get Monique out of London. And out of his life.

Gabriel had made arrangements to have his own rented coach driven to London by one of Stanhope's coachmen in order to escort Monique and her maid. He had agreed with Stanhope that the earl's own coach would be far more comfortable for Monique than his own rented one.

It was, he knew, exactly what Monique had wanted.

He had chosen to ride behind the coach in the event, he said, that the coach was accosted by highwaymen.

There had been no question of Smythe riding inside. He'd never been on a horse and eyed them with caution.

But there had been other reasons Gabriel had chosen to ride his own mount, even though he had to endure thoughts he'd preferred to go away.

Gabriel had never trusted anyone with his secrets before. Even Samuel knew only a small part of his background and nothing of his plan other than the fact that Gabriel wanted to clear his father's name in some way. It had seemed wise to keep his own counsel. It was more than a little difficult now to surrender a part of himself to someone else. And while he had not told Monique everything, he had told her more than he'd ever told anyone before.