Rogues Gallery (21 page)

Jamie's lips twitched, but he refused to give in to Gabriel's high spirits. "Out with it, lad. I know ye've got trouble in mind."

Gabriel spread his hands wide, as if presenting evidence of his innocence. "I vow you're as suspicious as a maiden aunt chaperone!" He cupped his mouth, telling Gilbey, "And as like in appearance, too."

Gilbey turned his head before the betraying laughter could erupt.

Jamie waved both hands at Gabriel in a shooing fashion. "Off with ye then, rascal. I am more than certain ye'll tell me all the exploits on your return." His eyes narrowed. "If ye mean to return this evening."

"At some point, yes," Gabriel answered.

"Be careful then, lad," Jamie whispered, startling Gabriel with a quick embrace. He slapped Gabriel's back several times and then limped away.

"Gilbey! Come, we have much to do." Gabriel strode to the horses nibbling at some grass shoots nearby. "I have need of one other as well."

He glanced at the men waiting to do his bidding. His eyes lit up when he saw the one he wanted. "Davy!" He clapped his arm about the shoulders of the young man. "Come, lad, 'tis a most important task I would ask of you."

Davy was a gentle soul, as unlike the impudent Gilbey as could be. As a child, he had been cruelly tormented for being simple when his mind merely wandered to more pleasant pursuits. His pleasure at being included in his leader's plans could not be contained.

Before the eager pair set out, Davy repeated where it was he and Gilbey should next meet up with Gabriel. His slow smile warmed Gabriel for some reason, as if it were a seal of approval.

Gabriel vaulted onto Eclipse, transmitting his own excitement to the prancing steed. "Ah, you are impatient as well," he said, touching his heels to the animal's flanks. In the next breath, the black horse and black-clad rider were swallowed by the inky darkness of midnight, flying to their destination.

***

G
abriel dismounted, concealing Eclipse in a distant copse of trees, reminding himself to be calm. He needed his wits about him this night more than any other. Marisa's safety depended on his abilities, and though it was a reckless decision, it was for her sake.

He shook his head. "What grand self-deception, eh, Eclipse?" The horse ignored him, nibbling instead on the corner of his cape. Gabriel good-naturedly removed it from the horse's mouth. "You had better treat your mistress in a more decorous fashion."

The animal reared its head and then turned its attention elsewhere.

Gabriel glanced up at the sky above, heartened by the crescent moon bestowing its creamy light on his endeavors. It was a sign. A good sign. How could it be anything else?

***

G
abriel tiptoed toward Marisa's bed, leaving the door ajar to aid a hasty departure. After stopping twice—certain someone was stirring and heading their direction—he finally reached the bed.

Marisa turned in the bedcovers, entangling herself even further in the sheets. How would he extricate her from the web she had woven in her troubled sleep?

He took a precious moment to breathe deeply, needing to calm himself. Never in his reckless life had he felt the need for such caution. It was as heady as his angel's kisses.

A kiss—that would restore him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her seductively innocent mouth. Within a heartbeat she was stirring.

"Mistress Angel," he whispered against her ear, pressing soft kisses to hasten her waking. "'Tis me, Lord Midnight."

"I know who it is," she mumbled. She yawned before adding, "Leastwise, I believe I am acquainted with those particular lips."

"Minx!" He gathered her into his arms, stifling the urge to sit with her for a while as was their usual custom. There was no time for it this night. He sighed with contentment when she did not question why he wrapped her in his cape before he picked her up and headed to the open door.

"Miss Dunsmore?" a voice called out from the adjoining room.

Gabriel halted, halfway to the door. Why should Daphne choose this particular night to sleep lightly? Marisa smothered a giggle, whether at his reaction or Daphne's intrusion, he was not entirely sure.

However, Marisa responded in a strong voice to her maid. "It is nothing, Daphne. Go back to sleep."

"It is no trouble," Daphne answered. There were muffled movements, as if Daphne were leaving her bed.

"Daphne." Marisa studied Gabriel through half-closed eyelids. "I am dealing with the chamberpot, and would prefer some privacy."

"Of course, ma'am." There were more sounds as Daphne returned to her slumbers.

"I appreciate your propensity for wickedness more than ever, angel," Gabriel said.

"I always knew it was an admirable trait," she answered.

It earned her a quick kiss.

At last they were outside. Gabriel hurried with his precious bundle toward the area where Eclipse was hidden. He told himself not to wax triumphant just yet, for he had barely commenced his unholy scheme. Still, his heart hammered in his chest at the daring he possessed. He nearly cried out in exultance that he was at last carrying Marisa away from his uncle's murderous hands.

It seemed the most perfect moment he had ever experienced. If only he could see his uncle's face once Edmund learned of this night's activity.

***

M
arisa felt curiously alive, her heightened senses making her unnaturally aware of each twig snapping beneath her highwayman's booted feet.
Be still!
, she wanted to cry out, frightened that Edmund would hear the small sounds and discover she had escaped him at last.

Jubilance bubbled inside her—remarkably akin to the passionate feelings her rescuer produced. She almost asked where he was taking her, but truthfully, she did not care. She would learn soon enough what he had planned. At that moment she was not ready to compose her final farewell to him. Instead, she was secure in the knowledge that he had been true to his word.

A horse nickered nearby, and Lord Midnight set her upon the black steed. She turned a nervous gaze in her highwayman's direction, but before she could ask him their eventual direction, he vaulted behind her onto the horse. He ensured his voluminous cloak enclosed her before picking their way out of the trees.

He was careful not to make unnecessary noise. They were still close enough to the house to make Marisa's heart race with fear. His arm about her waist provided some comfort, however, and she sank back with relief against his strong chest. His kiss on her head was additional solace.

When they were a safe distance from Westbrook Hall, he urged the horse into a canter. Marisa almost called out to ease the pace, but not for any reason of physical discomfort. It was her heart that protested. Each lope of the swift-moving animal brought her closer to that moment when her rescuer would kiss her in farewell, wishing her Godspeed as he provided her with coins he had stolen to ensure the future wellbeing of her and her aunt.

Best she use the time to compose another option she wished to present to him.

Long before she was ready, he pulled his horse to a halt and slid off the animal's back with an easy grace. However, he did not have her dismount. Instead, he placed a finger to his lips, signaling her to remain silent. She nodded in acquiescence.

To her surprise, he perused the area as if searching for something he had misplaced. After several curious minutes, he knelt, and, his back to Marisa, commenced pulling at something on the ground.

Marisa closed her eyes and waited for his return. She had little knowledge of him outside her bedchamber, so she supposed nothing of his behavior should astonish her.

"Are you tired, angel?"

Marisa's eyes flew open to see him standing beside the horse, a bunch of dewy snowdrops in his outstretched hand. She took the flowers with trembling fingers. At his wistful smile, her eyes filled with tears. Ever the gallant, her highwayman. Obviously, he did not mean to send her on her journey without a romantic token.

He frowned, as if puzzled by her reaction.

"I thank you, Lord Midnight. It is a most touching gift you have bestowed." She brought the flowers to her nose, more to hide her anguish than to discover whether they had any fragrance. "One I shall always remember," she whispered.

Fortunately her words brought a smile to her beloved highwayman. He joined her once more on Eclipse, and they were galloping to God—and Lord Midnight—only knew where.

***

G
abriel shifted Marisa's limp form, doing his best to keep her comfortably cradled in his arms. She was exhausted, and he felt some guilt for that, but it was necessary to travel a bit farther afield. It would do neither of them any good if his name was recognized with such haste that his uncle was alerted.

He reflected on Marisa's curious reaction to his gift of the snowdrops. It was as if she meant to say farewell to him at any moment. His stomach clenched unmercifully, and he tightened his arm about Marisa.

Although he knew he had no right to her, he would not let anyone take her away from him. Not now. Should Marisa wish to leave—well, that was perhaps a different issue. A much more painful one, to be sure, but it was one she deserved to decide for herself. It made the next several miles a less than pleasant trek.

"Come, sleepy angel, we are finally here," Gabriel crooned.

Marisa grumbled as she stirred in his arms, but she did not appear to be rousing.

"Soon you shall be able to sleep again, but this next part requires you to be completely awake." Gabriel nibbled her ear, and then her neck, tamping down his own arousal while he attempted to waken Marisa.

When she turned her head to seek his lips, he knew he was making progress. He turned her around so that he might kiss her with more thoroughness. Soon the magical contact between them had her wide awake, and both of them breathing heavily.

Gabriel broke off the kiss. "There shall be more than enough time for that later," he promised with a cheekiness Gilbey would envy. A faint blush appeared, but she did not protest. He vaulted off the horse, taking her into his arms while she continued to clutch the bouquet he had given her.

She perused her surroundings before turning her wide-eyed gaze onto him. "Where precisely are we?"

"Even a lass with a propensity for wickedness can discern we are entering a church."

"A church." She looked down at her attire. "I am wearing nothing but a nightrail!"

She buried her face between his neck and shoulder, while he strode into the small chapel lit by a few well-placed candles. "Mistress Angel," he teased, "surely an adventurous rescue would be much too staid if you were clothed in everyday attire."

She lifted her head.

"Indeed," he added, "I am not certain it could qualify as a rescue were you clothed otherwise."

"You, sir, are clothed appropriately."

He gave her a little squeeze, treasuring her muffled squeal. "I, of course, am suitably attired as the 'exalted lord of the highways'."

"Indeed," she answered.

In the next moment, he had reached his destination. Marisa's eyes opened wider when Davy and Gilbey followed the priest into the candlelight at the end of the chapel.

"These gentlemen are part of the rescue, I presume?"

"A most important part," he said as he set her on her feet.

She studied the two rogues with unabashed curiosity. Of course they would interest her more than a mere man of the cloth would. Priests were a much more common observance in her world than criminals were.

Gilbey stood with puffed-out chest, close to bursting with delight under Marisa's perusal. Davy, on the other hand, ducked his head.

"There is no need to be afraid of me," Marisa assured him.

Davy lifted his eyes, his beaming expression casting a brighter glow than the nearby candles. In that instant Gabriel knew Marisa had won a lifelong admirer.

"Come," Gabriel said, "we must be about our business, for we must still return this evening."

Marisa gasped. He swore Gilbey and Davy sighed with regret as well.

Gabriel placed his finger against Marisa's pouting lips. "Not to worry," he whispered. "Trust in me, angel."

She nodded, but her eyes reflected her lingering doubt.

The priest cleared his throat. "Is it willingly you have come here, miss?"

"I have indeed come willingly, and apparently will be returned unharmed, so there is no need to consider this a kidnapping."

"Angel, he is not here to turn us from the error of our ways. Gilbey, the license, if you please."

"The license?" Marisa mouthed, awestruck by the words.

Gabriel winked at her as he said, "Do not tarry, Gilbey. The special license."

Marisa swayed, her eyelids fluttering. All four men rushed forward, but it was Gabriel who caught her before she could fall to the stone floor.

Ensconced in his arms, she managed to say with complete wonderment, "You
are
a different sort of highwayman," before she succumbed to the very first swoon of her life.

***

I
t was the most delicious dream she had ever had. Her highwayman had a special license and intended to marry her. There was no doubt it was a dream, for highwaymen, no matter how well-loved, did not marry young ladies of quality. Of course, generally they did not rescue damsels in distress, either.

She tried to resist the insistent attempts to rouse her. She did not want to awaken, only to find she was indeed to be wed, but to Lord Westbrook rather than Lord Midnight. She clung tenaciously to the wispy remnants of the dream, but soon she felt her eyelids fluttering open.

To her amazement, it was Lord Midnight smiling into her face. "I had the most curious dream," she began.

He raised her to her feet. "'Tis not a dream, angel, for I mean to wed you this night." His face became gravely still. "Lest you do not wish it."

"Oh, no! I do wish it," she blurted before he could change his mind. Still, her haste embarrassed her. "After all, you have gone to a great deal of trouble on my behalf."

His eyes twinkled, as if aware of more than she wanted him to know at that moment. When he offered her his arm, she clasped it and strode to the cleric, despite the shakiness in her legs. After assuring her newfound admirers that she was quite fine, the ceremony commenced.