Captive Of Sin Part 16

d.a.m.n, their departure from Winchester must have been observed although he'd been so careful. Gideon kept his voice even. "Ah, you mean the poor waif I gave transport to on her way to her aunt in Portsmouth?"

"She has no aunt in Portsmouth," Burkett growled, taking a step closer. He was clearly accustomed to using his bulk to intimidate.

Gideon shrugged. "That was her story in Winchester. Chit claimed she'd been set upon by footpads. She was in a bad way. Knocked about."

Burkett shifted uncomfortably, but Felix's eyes remained cold and intent. Gideon retained his bland expression as he privately consigned them both to Hades.

"I grieve to hear that. A lone woman on the road faces many dangers. That's why we're eager to return her to her loving family." Felix made a creditable attempt at sounding concerned.

"Commendable," Gideon murmured, cursing the oily b.a.s.t.a.r.d for a liar and a fraud. The bruises on Sarah's-no, Charis's-face were testament to how loving her family was.

"As we haven't found her on the road to Penrhyn, we can only surmise she's staying with you. Pray send for her. We'll end this lamentable episode and any inconvenience you suffer, Sir Gideon." As he stood, Lord Felix's tone became if anything more unctuous. Gideon suppressed a shudder of loathing. "Clearly you're a man of honor, and a lady is safe in your company. But the world may not be so kind in its a.s.sessment. Our sister's reputation is at stake, so we'd appreciate your keeping details of this unfortunate incident mum."

Gideon struggled not to plant his fist in Felix's smug face. But he'd learned self-control in the hardest school. His response gave no indication of his abhorrence for these men. "I'd love to help you, my dear fellow. If indeed this girl is your sister." He let his tone descend into regret. "But she ran off after the ruckus in Portsmouth. My man and I tried to find her but with no success. I suspect she's still there."

"You expect us to believe you abandoned a defenseless woman?" Felix hissed, clenching his fists by his sides.

Gideon shrugged again although he already knew his careless act didn't convince the younger Farrell. "I a.s.sumed she'd gone to her aunt."

"But she hasn't got an aunt in Portsmouth," Burkett repeated, as if the fact made some difference.

"She told me she did. She was most adamant that Portsmouth was her destination."

"Because she thought to disappear there," Felix said between his teeth. "It's a port city. n.o.body would pay her attention."

Gideon raised his eyebrows again. "That's a clever scheme for someone who's feebleminded. Devil take me if it's not."

"That's not at issue," Felix snapped. "What is at issue is that we are her legal guardians, and if you harbor her, Sir Gideon, you break the law and will pay the penalty."

"Steady on, Lord Felix!" Sir John protested, rising from his seat.

Gideon ignored the slur on his honor. His voice turned silky. "Which I'm sure is why I have the inestimable pleasure not only of your company but of the magistrate's. I'm surprised you didn't invite the militia along to infest the front hall."

"If circ.u.mstances compel us to use force, we will," Felix said steadily. He sent a meaningful glance to Sir John, who looked increasingly uncomfortable at the conversation's p.r.i.c.kly turn. "As a representative of the law, you'll back us, Sir John."

Sir John cleared his throat and cast a nervous glance at Gideon. Gideon guessed what went through his mind. He'd known the Trevithicks all his life and recognized their local influence. The Farrells might be powerful men on the nation's stage, but they didn't live on his doorstep.

"There's no need for unpleasantness, gentlemen." Sir John directed a pleading stare at Gideon. "If Sir Gideon gives us his word that the girl you believe to be Lady Charis ran away in Portsmouth, we must be satisfied."

"Be d.a.m.ned to that," Burkett objected, taking a threatening step in Gideon's direction. His hands opened and closed at his sides as if he restrained himself from grabbing Gideon and beating the truth from him. Poor Charis, at this brute's mercy. Gideon could hardly bear imagining it. "She's the richest heiress in England. He's keeping her for his own gain."

The richest heiress in England? h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation, what had he got himself mixed up with?

The blasted girl had hidden a lot from him. None of which shook his determination to help her. He wouldn't hand a stray cat over to the Farrells, let alone a woman he admired and...cared for.

"Do you doubt my bond, sir?" Gideon rose to his full height.

Burkett was big and brawny, but Gideon topped him by several inches. Gideon also had the steel lent by years of living with endless danger. Burkett didn't frighten him in the least. He could break the overweening bully without a thought.

As Gideon had expected, Burkett backed down. "You haven't given us your word." He sounded sulky.

Gideon's voice was firm. "I give you my word the girl I knew as Sarah Watson ran away in Portsmouth. There's no guarantee the chit I encountered is even your sister."

"What did she look like?" Lord Felix asked.

"Small. Skinny. Bruised. Light brown hair. Spoke with a rough accent." It was possible someone had got a close look at Charis. He couldn't stray too far from the truth without awakening suspicion. "I can't for the life of me imagine she's an heiress. Her clothing was poor and her manners deplorable."

"She played a part," Felix insisted.

"I have no idea. What I do know is she took off after the brawl, and I haven't seen her since. If you believe this girl really is your sister-which I take leave to doubt-you'd be better concentrating your search in Portsmouth."

"Can we check the house?" Burkett asked stubbornly.

"No, by G.o.d," Gideon snapped. "I'll be d.a.m.ned if I let a pair of strangers march through my private rooms on a wild-goose chase after some featherbrained bit of muslin."

Burkett puffed out his impressive chest. "You insult my sister, sir."

"I do no such thing. Confound it, I don't know your sister. The world has come to a pretty pa.s.s when a man is hara.s.sed on his own property for offering aid to a distressed maidservant."

"Sir Gideon has given us his word," Sir John said placatingly. "Surely that's good enough."

Felix spread his hands to indicate his benevolent intentions. "Sir John, we act purely from brotherly concern. If we satisfy ourselves she's never been in this house, we'll leave Sir Gideon in peace, with our grat.i.tude and apologies."

Good G.o.d, but the younger Farrell was a slimy customer. He sounded so reasonable. If Gideon hadn't seen the marks on Charis's face, he'd almost believe the weasel's protestations.

"Sir Gideon, surely under the circ.u.mstances..." Sir John looked across at him hopefully.

Time to play the hero card. Gideon straightened and let outrage infuse his reply. "When I left this country to risk my life in its service, an Englishman's home was his castle. Unless you intend to invoke the full power of the law, Sir John, I must on principle refuse this monstrous imposition on my rights. I have returned after years of danger and deprivation beyond mortal imagination. Was it to face tyranny in my own homeland? Surely not. If so, His Majesty will hear of it. When he knighted me for my services to the Crown, he was most effusive about his grat.i.tude and favor."

"So you refuse?" Felix's voice was dangerous. His eyes didn't waver from Gideon.

"Look here, Lord Felix," Sir John said. "Sir Gideon is a national hero. You can't barge into his house unannounced and insist on turning the place upside down. Good Lord, man, we're not even sure the girl he picked up in Winchester is Lady Charis. Sir Gideon's description leads me to believe she can't possibly be a lady. He's a man of great perspicacity. If he says she was a serving wench, my bet is that's exactly what she was."

"We only seek to confirm your story," Lord Burkett said sullenly.

"A gentleman's statement should suffice." Gideon turned toward the door. "Now I am no longer at leisure."

"You haven't heard the end of this, Sir Gideon." Felix spoke as if addressing a minion.

The urge to knock Felix to the ground was so strong, Gideon could taste it. With difficulty, he maintained his lordly tone and kept his hands to himself. "I suggest you return to Portsmouth and pursue more fruitful leads there, my lords. You've come a long way for nothing."

"Topping idea." Sir John rubbed his hands together nervously as he stepped up to Gideon, obviously eager to end this encounter. "I'm sure the lady is in Portsmouth. Or safe at home, now she's discovered life away from her family is no picnic."

Felix pulled on his leather gloves with a slow deliberation Gideon knew was meant to const.i.tute a threat. His tone was deliberate too. "We'll return to Portsmouth to pick up the trail. But if it leads us back here, my dear Sir Gideon, your renown won't save you from the consequences. Good day, sir." After an insolent bow, he strode out, his older brother shambling in his wake.

Sir John stayed behind and muttered under his breath. "Sir Gideon, most regrettable incident. Two unpleasant young men. I pray they find their troublesome sister and don't bother us again. The Farrells always were a thoroughly bad lot. Father was a drunkard and gambler. Left the sons nothing but a mountain of debts and the wardship of young Lady Charis, the Earl of Marley's heiress. Hope the poor chit is safe."

"You're very well informed, Sir John."

"The late Lord Burkett was notorious. The sons are chips off the old block. I wouldn't trouble you, except they have their rights. They're the chit's legal guardians. Lord Felix was correct. Anyone keeping her from them breaks the law." He paused and frowned. "Of course, I knew a gentleman such as yourself couldn't possibly be involved. Good G.o.d, you've hardly been back in the country a month. Barely time to unpack, let alone get entangled with a runaway heiress. That's what I told those two braggarts. But they wouldn't take the word of a mere country squire." He put on his hat with a disgruntled gesture and collected his stick from near the mantel. "Come to dinner once you've settled in."

"I'll look forward to it," Gideon said, showing Sir John the door.

Outside in the foyer, Tulliver stood stolidly guarding the two Farrells, who looked annoyed. Gideon guessed they'd tried to take advantage of his conversation with Sir John to do some reconnaissance.

"Good day, Sir Gideon. Our apologies for disturbing you." Sir John ushered his companions outside. Gideon followed and stood on the steps to make sure the Farrells left. He sent a groom after them to confirm they didn't return. He trusted Charis's stepbrothers as little as they trusted him.

"Get the girl out of her hiding place," he said to Tulliver, when they were alone.

"Do you want to see her, guvnor?"

"Not immediately. Tell her I'll talk to her in the library before dinner. In the meantime, have my mother's trunks brought down to her room and tell the maids to burn that rag she's wearing."

"What do I say about yon smarmy b.u.g.g.e.rs?"

Gideon stared down the drive, empty now of Felix and Hubert and the reluctantly involved Sir John. When he replied to Tulliver, his voice was steady and very sure. "Tell her I've pledged myself to her safety. She has nothing to worry about."

With a sudden spurt of energy, he leaped down the steps to the courtyard. He turned left through the stone arch and headed for the windswept cliffs.

Ten.

Her stomach somersaulting with nerves, Charis approached the library. This afternoon from behind the wall, she'd listened to Gideon keep Felix and Hubert at bay. She'd silently cheered his cleverness and bravery. But how would he greet her this evening? He'd discovered she was the richest heiress in England. Would she glimpse greed in his eyes as she'd glimpsed greed in so many men's eyes?

Or worse, would she see disgust as he recalled the way she'd flung herself into his arms?

Sick humiliation made her hesitate, trembling outside the closed door. For one blazing moment in the attic, she'd believed he felt the ineffable connection between them. It had been a mistake she'd bitterly repented since.

Courage, Charis.

Stiffening her shoulders, she wiped her damp palms on her skirts and quietly let herself into the dimly lit library.

Gideon didn't immediately notice her arrival. He stood near the grate, staring down at the fire with a somber expression. From the shadows on the edge of the room, her gaze hungrily traced the flame-gilded angles of his face, the lean power of his body. He was dressed more formally than usual, in a dark blue superfine coat and biscuit trousers. He looked like the elegant man she'd met rather than the dashing, disheveled pirate she'd come to know at Penrhyn.

The memory of the brief, dazzling heat of his mouth overwhelmed thought. Then she recalled how he'd wrenched away as if she carried some contagious disease.

Shame choked her. She could hardly believe she'd launched herself at him like that. But he'd been so close, and she'd longed so keenly to feel his embrace. And for one doomed, misguided instant, she'd imagined he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Poor pathetic fool she was.

Slowly, Gideon looked up, as though reluctant to abandon his reflections. He must also be reluctant to face the woman who had forced herself on him.

She braced to confront anger or scorn, but his serious black gaze focused on her without a hint of condemnation. Or covetousness.

"Good evening, Lady Charis," he said calmly.

She was heart-stoppingly aware this was the first time he'd used her real name. In spite of all her stern lectures to herself, she shivered with pleasure when that dark velvet voice said Charis.

"Good evening." On unsteady legs, she inched farther into the room. She was torn by painful longing to be with him and a cowardly desire to flee.

Gideon's eyes widened as she entered the circle of light cast by the candelabra, and he at last took in her appearance. Because she'd felt like she faced an executioner, pride prompted her to dress in her best. Or in his mother's best. A wide blue silk ribbon fastened the filmy white gown under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. With Dorcas's help, she'd put her hair up in a loose ma.s.s, leaving strands to curl around her shoulders.

A flame lit Gideon's dark gaze, kindling answering fire inside her. Familiar tension extended between them. A tension she'd learned in the most painful fashion not to trust.

How could he stare at her as if she took his breath away when he found her nearness unbearable? It was cruel.

She straightened, fighting the insidious yearning his presence invariably aroused, and spread her hands in apology. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was. My inheritance makes men greedy." She should have long ago recognized Gideon was the exception to that rule.

"No matter." He laid one gloved hand on the carved marble mantelpiece. The misleading flash of desire had vanished, and his expression was cool, uninvolved. "And while I admit it's an unpleasant surprise to discover my adversaries are a marquess and his younger brother, I'd do little differently if I had the chance again."

"I nearly told you the truth so many times." Guilt was a sour taste in her mouth. What had seemed so imperative at the time now struck her as a childish, dangerous deception. Still, she tried to make him understand. "It wasn't just fear of how you'd react to who I was. I liked being Sarah Watson. She had more freedom than Lady Charis Weston ever enjoyed."

"Believe me, I understand the lure of freedom." He bent his head in thought, then glanced up to focus unwaveringly on her. "You have my word I'll do my best to keep Lady Charis at liberty too. Then in a few weeks, Lady Charis will have all the freedom she wants."

The irony was Lady Charis wanted only to stay here with Gideon. She was miserably aware that once she reached twenty-one, he had no further reason to keep her at Penrhyn. The prospect of leaving tore her heart to bleeding pieces.

"If my stepbrothers don't get me first." Fear thickened her throat, turning her voice husky. She tangled her trembling hands in her filmy skirts. "I heard you send them away, but..."

"They'll return. With full legal backing. I know."

"Your generosity to a stranger might cost you dear." Like a moth lured to a candle, she ventured closer. Not too close. She'd learned her lesson on that front. "You could go to prison for helping me."

"Didn't you hear Sir John? I'm a national hero." His voice was caustic and his expression bleak. "I doubt I'll be carted off to the clink. The public outcry would be deafening."

"I still shouldn't have involved you in this mess."

He sent her an uncompromising look under his marked black brows. "I despise bullies, Charis. Your stepbrothers deserve to lose."

She clenched her hands at her sides. "I can't stand the thought of your being harmed," she said fiercely. "If you come to disaster because of me, I'll never forgive myself."

His face contorted with sorrow, and he took a step toward her. "I'm not worth your pain."

"Of course you are." His constant self-abnegation infuriated her, made her ache with angry pity. He was so brave and strong and good, yet he seemed completely unaware of his true quality.

Impulsive, unstoppable words bubbled to the surface. Words she'd come close to saying so many times before. She spoke in a heated torrent before she thought to censor herself. "You're the best man I've ever known. You're magnificent. Unlike anyone else. You must know I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. I've only come to love you more every day since."

The headlong admission scorched the air from the room. Her heart slammed to a stop against her ribs. Her cheeks burned with shock and humiliation. She stood stock-still, as if her slightest movement might shatter her into a million pieces.

Dear heaven, what have I said? What have I done?

Hadn't she learned her lesson that afternoon? Her awful, awful gaucheness made her want to vanish into the floor. She'd give every penny she possessed to take back what she'd just done. But the declaration had been made. It was too late to deny it, even if she could bring herself to speak such a lie.