Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (33 page)

Peter had not mellowed toward Nicholas Delaney. "His amatory abilities weren't up to the task?"

Lord Middlethorpe shook his head at this. "Madame Bellaire does not appear to complain, but she has been reluctant to betray her fellow conspirators. She wasn't bewitched into imprudence. She wanted guarantees of her own safety and money in order to flee and establish a new life in Virginia. She also wanted to be sure Nicholas would accompany her there."

He took a deep drink from his own glass. "I can only assume the others in the plot have discovered their danger. They are doubtless using Eleanor as a hostage to prevent Nicholas from passing on the papers when he gets them. Sir Lionel was doubtless their tool, for he has been involved in the plot for some time."

"But why Amy?" demanded Mr. Lavering, knocking back his second glass of brandy.

"Unlucky coincidence, I should think. But it couldn't have happened at a worse time. Tonight was the night fixed for Madame Bellaire to hand Nicholas all the information and for him to spirit her off to safety. It was to be the end."

"But if the woman is to betray the conspirators, why not just kill her?"

"Good question." Lord Middlethorpe frowned. "It could be that she has information they lack. She does appear to be the coordinator. But it is strange."

"Then why not kill Delaney?"

"Madame Bellaire is besotted. Perhaps they fear she would betray them out of spite."

"It doesn't make any sense," Peter protested. "What do they gain from having Eleanor?"

"Well, even if Madame Bellaire gives Nicholas the papers he will not be able to use them. Perhaps they will simply ask for them back as the price of Eleanor and Amy's freedom. Or maybe, more subtly, they will make him confess that he has been fooling Therese all these months and is really in love with his wife. Which should cure her infatuation."

"And then they kill him."

Lord Middlethorpe looked at the other man in horror. "And then they have no reason not to kill him. And the woman would probably enjoy doing it. Nick saw this all. That's why he asked me to look after Eleanor."

* * *

Eleanor and Amy were making the best of the bleak little room in which they were being kept prisoner.

They had arrived at Sir Lionel's house and been welcomed in his usual effusive manner. Eleanor had regretted not sending round to warn him of their coming so he could absent himself as promised.

In fact, on this occasion her brother's gushing greeting was sincere. He had never been so glad to see anyone in his life, even if she had brought a companion and a footman. He had done his task; now it was up to Madame Bellaire's minions to handle the details.

He cheerfully led them up to the dusty attics. Eleanor made sure the strong young footman was in close attendance at all times. The house made her shudder with bad memories.

In the attics, however, she did find a number of items she was pleased to have, including her mother's sewing box. There was even a trunk of baby clothes that had once been hers. Thomas made three journeys down to the coach. At first Eleanor had been nervous to see him go, but she recognized she could hardly trail up and down behind him.

He did not return from the third journey. Instead, a young man appeared with a pistol in his hand.

"Please be sensible, ladies," he said quite politely. "You are being abducted."

They both just gaped.

"Good. I'm glad you're reasonable."

Another man came into the room.

"Footman?" queried the first.

"Taken care of, and the carriage sent home."

"Excellent. Now, ladies, I assure you there is nothing to fear if you are sensible."

Eleanor suddenly burst out, "You are the man who followed me!"

The young man bowed. He still looked like a clerk. "I had that pleasure, but unfortunately your husband found out and took preventive measures. You have been well protected, Mrs. Delaney, but not well enough."

"But what do you want?" asked the bewildered Amy.

"Merely to keep you both safe so some business can be completed without complication."

"I don't understand," wailed Amy. Eleanor quickly put am arm around the frightened girl.

"I will come with you," she said, "but let Miss Haile go. She has no part in this." She was busily wondering who was responsible for this. The plotters? But it was Lionel who threatened to betray them, and he would not be restrained by a threat to Eleanor and Amy.

"Impossible, I'm afraid," said the young man with regret. "We do not want the alarm given too soon. Tie their hands, Jim, but not too tight. They are ladies, after all. I am afraid, Mrs. Delaney, that the only alternative to taking your friend with us is to tie her up tightly and leave her locked somewhere in this house. She will do better with you."

"Don't worry about me, Eleanor," said Amy bravely. Then she added to the man, "You must see that Mrs. Delaney is in a certain condition. A shock could be dangerous."

"I am aware of it, Miss Haile. If you both cooperate there will be no problems. You will simply be taken in a comfortable carriage to a house, and kept in a room there. A plain room, but with all the necessities. You will be fed and given anything within reason you require. Later tonight, if everything goes well, you will be released close to Lauriston Street. As you see, there is nothing to fear."

Eleanor had not been listening to this, and had hardly been aware of her hands being tied in front of her. She was continuing her analysis. This could only mean that Nicholas intended to betray the plot. He had come to his senses. That was what he had meant when he said it was all going to unravel. But what would he do now she was in danger?

The young man spoke again. "All tied? Now, ladies. Jim will go first and I will follow with the pistol. Be warned, I will use it if you cause any trouble. A ball in the leg will prevent any escape, and this house is now empty. No one will hear a shot."

There was nothing to do except obey. They went down the stairs awkwardly, holding up their skirts with their bound hands. At one point Eleanor stumbled and the man called Jim turned and gave her an impersonal but welcome hand.

They left the house by the back way and entered a carriage with curtained windows. The two men sat opposite, pistols at the ready. Eleanor felt a resourceful lady would find some way out of the predicament but could not for the life of her think of one. They did not travel far in any case.

When they left the carriage it was in a quiet mews.

They were directed to enter another, larger house full of the sound of music, as if an entertainment was in progress. But if it was, they saw no one as they climbed bare back stairs to the top of the house, where they were installed in a servant's room in the attics. Eleanor's watch told her it was just past four o'clock. Jim untied both her and Amy's hands and the door was closed on them and locked.

They explored. There was a small gable window open to let in the breeze but secured with sturdy bars. It overlooked an alleyway, so there was little chance of attracting attention. The door was solid and the key had not been left in the lock. They could not even try to push it out.

A search through both their reticules produced nothing of use at all, not even a pair of scissors.

"How useless," said Amy in disgust. "In a novel the heroine always has something more than a handkerchief and a card case."

"I promise never to leave the house again," said Eleanor, "without at least a penknife."

The only furniture in the room was a narrow bed, a plain table, and two hard chairs, all firmly screwed to the plain wood floor.

"This has been used as a prison before," said Amy as they sat on the chairs to await events.

Eleanor had to agree. She feared they were at Madame Bellaire's establishment, and she had heard some poor girls did not go to brothels of their own free will. Perhaps this room was used to hold them until they submitted. With a nervous tremor she wondered what was to become of them. She worried about Amy, so innocently involved in this. She worried about her baby, stirring slightly in her womb. If they beat her she might miscarry.

When footsteps approached and the key turned in the lock she stood quickly, ready to defend herself if she could.

To her amazement, however, it was a uniformed maid with a tray of tea and cakes. Jim stood at the door, pistol in hand, and watched carefully as the middle-aged woman placed the tray on the table. The woman left, blandly indifferent to their fate, and then Jim bowed slightly and said, "Enjoy your tea, ladies." He left and they heard the lock turn again.

Irrepressible, Amy giggled at the incongruity. "May I serve you tea, Mrs. Delaney?"

"Isn't it extraordinary?" said Eleanor, biting into some very good plum cake, half expecting it to be poisoned.

She remembered the drink she'd been given on the night she'd been raped, but that had left a funny taste in her mouth. This all seemed to be perfectly normal food.

"Very nice china, too," she said.

"But no silverware," pointed out Amy. "If we wish to use the sugar in our tea, I don't know what we're supposed to do."

On the whole, Eleanor found the development a relief. It was impossible to imagine this decorous tea being a prelude to brutality and murder.

"I wonder where we are?" said Amy. "Eleanor, you didn't seem as surprised as I was at all this. What's going on?"

Eleanor had dreaded the inevitable question. She couldn't tell Amy of Nicholas's foolishness. There was still a chance they might all come out of this safely.

"I don't exactly know, Amy," she said at last. "Nicholas is mixed up in something, and the less you know the better. You are here by accident, I'm afraid, but I think they want me as a hostage for his good behavior."

"Do you really think they'll let us go?" asked Amy, trying to conceal her anxiety.

"Yes, of course," said Eleanor, more confidently than she felt. "They wish us no harm, and if we disappear it would cause a great deal of fuss."

"Yes," said Amy, brightening. "Peter will be in a panic already. The only trouble is he'll probably do something stupid."

It was the first disparaging comment she had ever made about her hero.

"Fortunately, then, there is nothing he can do. He will go to Nicholas, and Nicholas will take care of things." Eleanor hoped to God she was right. She kept her voice cheerful. "Have another piece of cake, Amy."

Chapter 12

The gentlemen arrived at Madame Bellaire's and were joyously welcomed as old and favored clients. They went first to the dining room, where there was always an excellent buffet. They were immediately surrounded by pretty girls in charming dresses, only differentiated from the debutantes at Almack's by their uniformly stunning attractions. It was noticeable, however, that though they fluttered attentively around these handsome young men, none of them approached Nicholas in more than a casual way.

He was known to be the property of their employer.

Soon the lady herself swept in, gloriously gowned in ruby silk, her dark hair piled high upon her head. She held out her hands to him. "My dearest Nicky."

Nicholas kissed both beautiful hands, and then her soft, full lips. "Cherie. You look more stunning than ever."

She smiled the slow, seductive smile that was her greatest asset. It promised all the wonders of the sensual world. She traced one finger down the side of his face and across his lips. "And tonight is a special night,
mon amour
. Come, we must... talk."

As she led the way toward her private boudoir, seen only by the most favored few, the marquess stepped forward and captured her hand, bringing it to his lips. Therese stopped, a slight, intrigued smile on her lips. "Lord Arden?"

"I am in despair," he said, letting his eyes adore her. "What has Nicholas Delaney got that Lucien de Vaux cannot better?"

The lady made no attempt to free her hand from his; in fact, she allowed herself to be drawn closer. "An interesting question, Milord Marquess. Perhaps it should be explored." Her eyes took their own leisurely exploration of his body, then she turned to consider them both. "It cannot be denied, I fear, that you have the edge in conventional beauty. Such golden hair, such sapphire eyes, such height and breadth of shoulders. And, of course, in rank and riches there is no comparison at all. Are you as generous as my Nicholas?" She looked at the large diamond pin in his cravat and smiled.