Rogues Gallery (33 page)

There was no denying her pleasure in the festivities. Gabriel's pulse raced at her flushed cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes, the spirited steps of her dancing. Her laughter rang out with delight so often that Gabriel wondered how he had ever existed without it.

Though it was torment to play the role of bystander, he could not rob the rogues of their pleasure. They had little of it on a daily basis, and they clearly enjoyed Marisa's attentions.

She responded playfully to Gilbey's harmless flirtation, as if aware the lad would bolt if she did otherwise. While leading Davy through the less-than-intricate dance steps, she sweetly reassured him on what a quick study he was.

His heart softened when Marisa walked toward Jamie, her manner deferential as she curtseyed, giving him his due as the patriarch of the brigands.

She was every inch the gracious lady, and Gabriel wished he could provide her with all of the niceties to which she was entitled.

He watched with longing as she danced a merry jig with Jamie. How could he ever bear to have her gone from his life? It was torture just to have her out of his arms. He pushed the thought aside, instead enjoying the joyful music wafting from the piper, as well as the elated expression on both Jamie's and Marisa's faces.

At last he could stand it no more. He strode to his bride when the music finally ended. His body heated at the anticipation in her eyes, for it matched his own. He was not unaware of her deliberate waiting game after her earlier taunt.

Gabriel bowed and then lifted her hand to his lips. "Madame Wife, I should like the dance you promised me."

She attempted to steady her breathing, to disguise how aroused she was by him. Gabriel's loins reacted in a predictable fashion, making him wonder if he would be able to execute any dance steps at all. He closed his arms about her and the piper began to play a lilting waltz, as though nothing else would do for the pair of lovers.

Marisa floated in his arms, her eyes blazing with such passion he nearly misstepped more than once. Though he knew the rogues watched them, Gabriel was only aware of Marisa. He felt lightheaded at her body crushed so intimately against his, her breasts pressing against him with every movement of the dance.

The filmy muslin of her wedding gown proved too much for his heightened senses. He halted in mid-step and, clasping Marisa's wrist, raced to the distant cloister that was to be the bridal bower. The piper ceased the waltz and began a lively march instead. The expected catcalls soon turned into fond wishes for a good night's rest, and Gabriel knew it was due to the rogues' genuine affection for Marisa.

Once he was alone with her, his impatience could not be restrained. She understood his need for urgency, and responded with the same haste. Her kisses made him even more feverish, though they were designed to comfort him. He pulled her onto the makeshift bed without further ado, removing the last remnants of her clothing in a rush.

"Gabriel," she soothed.

But her sweet responses made him even more desperate. "I'm sorry, angel, but I must—"

"I know. I must, too."

Gabriel closed his eyes at the bliss of entering her body. He would strike a deal with the devil himself for just one more day with this angel. She was the only one able to obliterate his concerns about their future, and for several moments he remained completely still. "God I love you, Marisa."

In the next heartbeat she moved beneath him, tugging him closer, moaning her pleasure. He drove into her, relishing her passionate request for more, banishing his fears at the same time. When she came apart in his arms, crying out his name, Gabriel's body stiffened, and then he followed her into a realm of pure endless bliss.

A cloud of dust approached the camp, and Gabriel knew the bliss of the past few days was about to end. He had awakened each morning with an angel snuggled in his arms. She had bestowed the most heavenly kisses at every opportunity; she had led him through the gates of Paradise every night.

But such euphoria could not last. Edmund had committed many evil acts in order to attain his goal. There was no reason to believe him incapable of as much, or more, to retaliate for the public loss of his wife-to-be, and by a highwayman, no less. His uncle would not leave this latest act unpunished.

Gilbey came riding neck-or-nothing into camp. Sliding off his horse before the animal had completely halted, he strode to where Jamie, Marisa, Althea, and Gabriel sat eating luncheon. Gilbey's eyebrows shot up when he spotted the quartet dining at a real table, but then he shrugged, accustomed to accepting the many changes suggested by Marisa.

Jamie cleared his throat, nodding his head at Gilbey's clenched hand. Reminded of the reason for his hasty entry, he thrust a crumpled broadsheet at Gabriel.

Gabriel smoothed the paper on the rough wooden table, not surprised to feel Marisa's face at his ear while she read over his shoulder. He grinned and turned his head so he could feel her sweet breath on his skin. He could not seem to get enough of her touch, no matter how he tried.

Marisa rewarded him with a quick kiss, not halting her perusal of the broadsheet.

"Well," Jamie muttered. "Tell me what it says."

Gilbey nearly blurted the news, but Gabriel inserted instead, "Lord Westbrook accuses me of stealing a diamond necklace. A most valuable piece of jewelry, from the amount of reward offered."

In truth, he had misjudged the speed with which Edmund would act. He could at least be thankful Edmund did not yet know the identity of his tormentor.

Marisa reseated herself before looking at Gabriel, but to his relief, he saw no approbation in her eyes. However, there most definitely was fear. "What does this mean then?"

"It means that he best lay low," Gilbey declared, "or he'll swing for sure if he's nabbed by the authorities for this."

"Oh!" Althea cried.

Marisa blanched, reaching for Gabriel's hand. He squeezed it before tossing a warning look at Gilbey. The lad blushed, realizing too late his error.

Gabriel's heart softened at the sight of Jamie patting Althea's hand, calming the woman's fears with tender words.

"But why would he accuse you of stealing the necklace?" Marisa asked.

"He is trying to force me to the surface, angel," Gabriel answered. "The theft of the necklace pales in comparison to having his bride stolen from him."

"Then are ye saying Edmund still has the necklace?"

"No, Jamie," Gabriel answered. "Although I never took it."

Marisa slumped with visible relief. "When it disappeared soon after the betrothal ball, I assumed—" Her hands fluttered toward Gabriel. "Not that I cared," she added in a rush. "I just do not want Edmund to harm you."

Marisa had protected him even then, when she believed he had slipped away with her betrothal gift. Her unfailing trust was a miracle, and he tested it at every turn.

God forbid she ever learned the secrets he kept from her.

"Why does he not mention the rubies?" Marisa asked.

Gabriel caught his breath. He had forgotten about them. Was it possible Edmund had too? Or did he not want anyone to know they had gone missing?

Marisa shivered. "I would think he would want to see you punished for that, as well."

He could not let her know the rubies were tucked away, a dowry of sorts for her should anything ever happen to him. He set the notion aside, preferring instead to contemplate the day when he could place the rich red gems around her elegant neck, savoring her role as his countess, Lady Westbrook.

"I shall see to it that Edmund does not harm me," Gabriel said, but Marisa's brow continued to wrinkle with uncertainty. "Angel, one day you will finally believe me when I say something," he teased.

"I believe you now." She wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him. "But I cannot help but fear something shall happen to you. You do not know Edmund like I do."

Gabriel hid a smile in her hair. Somehow both Jamie and Gilbey refrained from responding to her ingenuous words.

"Do not worry so." He set her away from him, albeit with great reluctance. "Gilbey, fetch the horses. Once the sun has descended a bit further, we shall set upon the unwary traveler again."

"Gabriel, it is too dangerous."

"Marisa, I have put off the heists for several days now. It is my sole means of providing for you. At least for the present."

The rubies would prove sufficient for that, but only if Edmund were not alive to claim them. Gabriel had to secure her financial future in the event he were apprehended, or killed, in his quest to protect her.

And perhaps their unborn child.

"Let me ride with you."

Her words startled the laughter from his lips. "You never cease to amaze me."

He leaned forward and kissed her. Marisa leapt up, her eyes glittering with excitement.

"No!" Gabriel grabbed her hand. "It is too dangerous. I could not bear for harm to come to you."

"I know the feeling well, Gabriel."

Gabriel had to concede she had lived through a most harrowing time when she had believed him dead, due to his dangerous profession. Yet how could he refuse her? He was well aware of the exhilaration that raced through her veins at the thought of embarking on this dangerous adventure.

"If I deny you, you will merely follow behind, am I correct?"

"Of course I will!"

"Very well then, Lady Midnight." Her beaming expression was worth whatever inconvenience resulted from this outing. It would also ease his worry to know she was safe within his realm of protection. "However, I would remind you that I am the leader of this enterprise."

"Indeed you are, Gabriel. I am shocked you would suggest otherwise."

"Angel, there are moments when I feel a deep sympathy for your father's tribulations."

"But his were well-deserved. Every last one of them."

"So it would seem."

***

"C
ome, gentlemen," Gabriel cajoled, standing by the open carriage door. "Surely this is not a new experience for any of you." He motioned them with his pistol. "Join me under the stars, if you will."

Two grumbling gentlemen bearing a faint resemblance to Marisa descended first, amongst a clamor of oaths from another of the carriage occupants.

"That is more like it," Gabriel said, gesturing for the two men to convene some distance from the coach. They were quickly surrounded by his band of rogues, each of the petty thieves doing their level best to appear menacing. He bit his lip to contain his amusement at their admirable efforts, as well as the effect they had on the nervous gentlemen.

When there were no other occupants descending, Gabriel peered inside the carriage. "The rest of you, as well," he demanded. "I am certain you wish to be on your way, so if you will but hasten, we can conclude these proceedings."

Gabriel was not surprised to see Bernard appear in the carriage door, but he was startled at the man's visible levity, as if he had been expecting the visit.

Bernard leapt to the ground and then bent in a graceful bow. "My sister's husband, I believe?"

Gabriel returned the grin before scraping a bow worthy of the most gallant courtier in the land. "Indeed, Marisa is my bride. And I have the honor of addressing her brother—Bernard, is it?"

Bernard blinked, but he quickly recovered his lazy manner. He inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"Excellent," Gabriel replied. "If you will but stand here for a moment." He nodded to the rear of the carriage, signaling Gilbey to stand guard. "I apologize for the necessity of this. But I know you have experienced this previously."

Bernard's lips twisted in a wry smile. "Please," he answered, "think nothing of it."

Gabriel turned back toward the carriage, finding himself liking Bernard despite his betrayal of Marisa. Yet as much as Gabriel sympathized with the young man's desire to increase his lot in life, it would be a while before he could completely forgive him.

Before Gabriel could demand the last occupant remove himself from the carriage, the man was bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"What is the meaning of this? Preston? Jonathan? Bernard?"

"All present and accounted for, Father," Bernard said with a careless smile.

"Come, Mister Dunsmore," Gabriel cajoled, "you are holding up the hold-up."

A snicker in the background was surely Marisa's. She had promised to remain out of sight, but Gabriel wondered if this particular carriage might compel her to break that vow.

Gabriel poked his head into the carriage. "Do you require some assistance, good sir?"

"You!" Mr. Dunsmore roared. "You're the blackguard that stole my daughter from her wedding!"

"You have the facts a bit awry, but yes, I am your daughter's husband," Gabriel clarified. He backed out of the carriage, adding, "As I can see you are incapacitated, I shall permit you to remain in the carriage. After all, I should not wish you to come to permanent harm.
Father
."

Gabriel could not quell his laughter at the howl of outrage from his new relation, and this time he swore it was Bernard chuckling behind him, amongst the horrified gasps of Marisa's other two brothers.

Gabriel strode toward the two men in question. "Turn over your valuables, sirs, to my men here." Despite some grumbling, they complied, netting the rogues two gold watches and a number of rings, as well as two small leather purses filled with guineas.

Assured that the men were accommodating his request, Gabriel ambled back to Bernard. He motioned with his head for Gilbey to see to relieving Marisa's father of his worldly goods, and Gilbey happily obeyed.

"So, Bernard, what valuables have you to donate this evening?"

"I have a magnificent watch." He extracted it from his waistcoat, and looked at it for a moment, scarcely enough time to register any regret, before placing it in Gabriel's outstretched hand. "A gift from Lord Westbrook."

"Indeed?" Gabriel answered, looking at it with little interest. "I am certain you have more to benefit we poor knights of the road."

Bernard returned Gabriel's gaze and then he sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "Can you blame me for attempting it?"