A Kiss Before Dawn (15 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Logan

BOOK: A Kiss Before Dawn
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And a diamond-studded brooch.

Her pulse jumped and she lifted it from the box. As she turned it over in her palm, her gaze fell upon the writing that had been engraved on the back, just beneath the clasp.

To my darling wife, Lavinia. Mere words cannot express what I feel for you. Your loving husband, George.

Tears blurred Emily's vision and she clutched the brooch against her bosom. How Lord Brimley must have loved his wife.

I'll make sure you get this back, my lord,
she vowed silently, glancing toward the connecting chamber. If luck was with her, the marquis might never even notice it had been taken.

Tucking the brooch into the pocket of her breeches, she placed the box back on the armoire shelf and closed the doors. Once again, they gave a loud squeak, but this time she barely noticed. She was already out of the room.

She started down the hallway toward the stairs, moving as soundlessly as before. But halfway there, she became aware of a faint noise from somewhere behind her. She turned just in time to see one of the doors along the way come flying open.

A frail, bent figure dressed in a nightshirt and tasseled cap limped out into the corridor.

It was Lord Brimley!

His cane pounding the floor, the elderly marquis called out in a tremulous voice. “Halt! Halt, I say, you miscreant! You'll not rob this house!”

Emily didn't pause, but whirled and began to run, her heart pounding with every step. She had to get out of here!

She could hear Lord Brimley's cane as he pursued her, continuing to yell as loudly as he could. “Help! Help! Stop, thief! Stop or I—”

His words choked to an abrupt, gurgling halt, and a sudden jarring thud followed by a gasp had her looking back over her shoulder just as she reached the top of the stairs.

The marquis lay in a heap several feet away, unmoving.

Emily let out a cry of distress, then covered her mouth with her hand. But it was too late to worry about giving herself away. Lord Brimley's shouts had awakened the servants, who were already bustling about below. The sound of frightened voices and running feet drifted up the stairs.

She couldn't be discovered. Not now. But she couldn't leave without knowing if the marquis was going to be all right.

Hurrying back to the elderly gentleman's side, she knelt next to him and felt for the pulse in his neck. It was there, weak but steady. A groan escaped his lips, but his eyes didn't open.

“I'm so sorry, my lord,” she whispered, her heart squeezing at his helplessness. This was all her fault. Should anything happen to him…“I'm so sorry.”

At that moment, a commotion from down in the foyer had her glancing up in alarm. She couldn't afford to linger. The staff would be arriving to investigate the fuss at any moment.

“I must go, but your servants are on their way to lend their aid, my lord,” she told the marquis, patting his shoulder. “Just hold on. Please hold on.”

Lunging to her feet, she scurried back down the hallway toward the marchioness's room. Obviously, her previous path through the house had been eliminated as an escape route, and she would have to come up with another way out.

She flung open Lady Brimley's door and ducked inside, closing it behind her just in time. Loud footsteps sounded on the front stairs and a chorus of startled cries echoed down the corridor.

“My lordship!”

“Someone send for the physician! Quickly!”

“What was he on about? Did I hear him yell something about a thief?”

Oh, dear heavens, they would be looking for her! There could be no delay. She
had
to get out at once.

Without hesitation, she raced to the window and pushed open the casement, then leaned far out over the sill, straining to see through the darkness to the ground below.

There. Just beneath the window was a large patch of bushes and flowering shrubs. It wouldn't be a comfort
able landing, but it should be enough to cushion her fall, and keep her from breaking an arm or a leg.

Or her neck.

Closing her eyes, she slung a leg over the window ledge, whispered a quick prayer, and jumped.

O
ver an hour later, Emily and her two companions limped into the clearing that housed the abandoned gamekeeper's cottage, exhausted and a bit the worse for wear.

After her miraculous jump from Lady Brimley's second-floor window, in which she had been lucky to receive nothing more than a few cuts and bruises, Emily had located Miles and dragged him with her to find Jenna and the horses. With Lord Brimley's staff combing every inch of the grounds, it had been no easy feat, but the three of them had managed to elude the searchers and disappear into the night.

Now, all she could do was hope that it had been too dark in the corridor and the marquis had been too far away to recognize her in her boy's clothing.

“Well, you certainly took your time about it.”

Jack waited for them, leaning against the side of the cottage, arms crossed and lips twisted in a sneer.

“Best you be glad we got 'ere at all,” Miles growled, making no attempt to hide his contempt for the other man. “We woke the whole 'ouse and almost got caught.”

“Caught, you say?” Jack cocked his head and turned to Emily, his eyes gleaming with sudden interest. He seemed almost intrigued by the notion.

Yes, that would have been quite the coup for him, wouldn't it? she thought, her anger rising up to choke her. The younger sister of the Earl of Ellington being arrested for burglary would be the ultimate revenge as far as Jack was concerned.

She struggled to keep her voice even. “The marquis must have heard me prowling around. He came out of his room and saw me before I could get away.”

“Did 'e recognize you?”

“I don't know. I didn't stay to ask him.”

“But you got what I sent you for?”

Emily reached into the pocket of her breeches and withdrew the brooch, holding it out to him.

“Ahhh.” Jack jerked it from her grasp, holding it up so that its diamonds winked in the moonlight, and she had to suppress the urge to wrest it back from him and run with it so fast and so far that he would never be able to catch her. “I knew you could do it. You make me proud, Lady Emily.”

“Just what I've always aspired to.” In spite of herself,
her words dripped with sarcasm, and he flung her a censuring look before tucking the piece of jewelry into his shirt pocket.

“We make a good team, princess.” He gave her an infuriating smirk. “Next time—”

“There won't be a next time.” She'd had it. This was the end. She couldn't do this any longer. Not after tonight.

Jack paused for a moment, then took a step closer to her, his eyebrows lowering. “What's that?”

“You heard what I said.” Emily refused to back down. “And you might as well quit trying to intimidate me. It won't work. Perhaps you didn't understand Miles. We were almost caught tonight. And on top of that, Lord Brimley collapsed in the midst of our confrontation.” Tears of shame and distress clouded her vision, and she struggled to hold them back. “Lord knows if he's even still alive.”

“So? 'E's an old man. 'E most likely wouldn't 'ave been around much longer anyway.”

Jack's complete disregard for human life shouldn't have shocked her, but it did. “You monster!” She started toward him, but Miles stepped into her path, bringing her to a halt.

“No, m'lady. Allow me.” With an expression of almost predatory anticipation, the stable hand whirled without warning and his fist swung outward, connecting with Jack's chin in a solid blow. The force was enough to send the older man sprawling in the dust.

Emily's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp—and
to cover the slight beginnings of a smile that came and went on her lips. It was oddly satisfying to see the scoundrel lying in the dirt where he belonged.

Jack's pale cheeks reddened and he sat up, fingering his jaw. “Consider that a free one, stable boy, 'cause the next time you 'it me, I guarantee I'll 'it back.” He levered himself to his feet and faced Emily. “And as for you, princess, this ain't over until I say it is. You and I 'ave a lot more to do.”

“I said it's over and I meant it.” Facing him with fierce resolve, she held her hand out to him, palm up. “Now, if you would be so kind as to hand over this alleged proof you've been babbling about?”

He paused for a moment, then a slow, devilish grin spread across his face. “Proof?”

“Don't play dumb, Jack. You know very well what I'm talking about. This proof you've supposedly found that my mother had an affair. You said I could see it once I did this job for you, and I did it. So, where is it?”

“I said I
might
be persuaded to let you see it. And I'm not persuaded, especially not if you're going to leave me 'igh and dry before I say it's time to put an end to things.”

Emily felt her face heat with anger. She should have known the knave would never keep his word. “Damn you, Jack!”

He gave a careless shrug. “Of course, I can't make you do anything you don't want to do, but I wonder…Do you 'appen to be familiar with the laws of in'eritance in England?” His gray eyes narrowed as he stud
ied her. “If it could be proven that your brother wasn't the true son of the Earl of Ellington…well, it's possible 'e could lose everything, ain't it? 'Is title, 'is wealth, 'is lands and 'ome. All of it.”

Emily's breath caught and her hand went to her abdomen, trying to calm the sudden pitching of her stomach. She had no idea whether what he said was true or not, but the mere possibility was enough to send her into a panic.

“And all I 'ave to do,” Jack drew out in a slow, deliberate tone, the relish in his voice an indication of just how much delight he took in tormenting her, “is show a few little pieces of paper to the right person.”

That was it! Emily was sick of the hints, the threats. She had to know just what sort of proof Jack was holding over her head. “What papers?” she demanded, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “What are you talking about?”

He leaned toward her, his hot breath wafting across her ear, causing her to shiver in revulsion. “Letters,” he said succinctly. “From your mum to a good friend of 'ers, admitting to 'er affair before she wed your father—and 'er pregnancy.”

“That's not possible.” She went cold all over and her pulse pounded in her ears. She could feel herself swaying, felt Jenna's arm wrap around her shoulders in comforting support. “I don't believe you. Where on earth could you possibly have gotten your hands on something like that?”

“I 'ave me ways.”

“I want to see them now!”

“I already told you no. Maybe next time. It all depends on whether or not you continue to play nice and do as I say.”

Emily's body quivered with rage and frustration. All she could think about was the pain this man had caused, all in the name of his revenge.

“You won't get away with this,” she whispered, her words a mere rasp of suppressed emotion. “I swear to you, you won't.”

“Oh, I won't, eh?” His cruel wink was like a dagger in her heart. “Well, we'll just see about that, won't we?”

“Oh, we will most definitely see about that!” She turned on her heel and marched off toward the horses with Miles and Jenna hurrying to catch up.

Flinging herself into the saddle, she cast one last glance back at Jack.

You'll pay for this, Jack Barlow
, she swore to herself vehemently.
You'll pay for everything. And I'm just the person to make sure you do.

 

Emily waited until they were quite a distance from the gamekeeper's cottage before she pulled Artemis to a stop on the moonlit path. She glanced over at her friends, who reined in their mounts as well and halted next to her.

“This is the end,” she told them, her voice quiet and full of conviction. “After what happened with Lord Brimley this evening I can't continue to do this. My God, who knows what could have happened? He might have recognized me! And to see him lying on the floor,
so pale and still…” She swallowed the fist-sized lump that tried to clog her throat. “If he's been harmed in any way, I'll never forgive myself.”

Jenna patted her shoulder. “It wasn't your fault, Em. And I'm sure 'e's fine.” But she didn't sound so certain.

“What do you plan on doing?” Miles asked, drawing her attention as he guided his horse a bit closer.

“You've been keeping an eye on the cottage, Miles. Has he done anything out of the ordinary, seen or spoken to anyone?”

The stable hand nodded. “The last few nights 'e's gone into the village to one of the local taverns, the 'Awk's Eye. From what I can see, it seems to be a pre-arranged meeting place of some sort. 'E sits at a table at the very back in the shadows, and after 'e's been there a while, a young lad approaches 'im, usually with some sort of written message.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “Did you recognize the lad?”

“Only to know that 'e's the one who delivered the message to you at the stables yesterday morning. Scrawny little scrapper. About twelve, brown 'air and brown eyes. Other than that, no. I don't remember ever seeing 'im around the village.”

“So it's safe to say that Jack could be working with someone else, and this lad is more than likely an errand boy.” Somehow the idea didn't surprise Emily. But she couldn't help but wonder who else would want to hurt her enough to fall in with the likes of the former street thief and his plans. “You say he's gone to this tavern every night?”

“That's right.”

“But nowhere else?”

Miles shook his head. “Mostly 'e stays around the gamekeeper's cottage. I would imagine 'e's not too keen on 'aving anyone spy 'im.”

“Then everything he's had us steal must still be with him at the cottage. He hasn't left town for any length of time, and he wouldn't risk pawning any of it around here for fear someone might recognize it.” Emily felt a plan starting to take shape in her mind, and her hands tightened on her reins in growing excitement. “I would wager a guess that these letters of my mother's he claims he has are there, too—if they exist at all.”

Jenna frowned. “Per'aps. But 'ow does that 'elp us?”

Emily turned back to Miles. “How long does he stay at the Hawk's Eye?”

“I'd say a couple of hours, maybe a little longer. 'E usually 'angs around for a short time after the lad delivers the message and orders a round or two.”

“So we should have plenty of time to slip into the cottage while he's gone.”

“What?” Jenna's shrill exclamation caused her horse to dance skittishly beneath her, and she took a second to calm her mount before facing Emily again, her eyes wide with trepidation. “Why would we want to do that?”

Emily gave her friend a beseeching look. “Don't you see? It's the only way to end this once and for all, Jenna. If we can find those letters, or prove that he never had
them to begin with, we take away his power over us. And if we can recover everything he's had us steal, we can return it all to the true owners and finally turn Jack over to the law.”

“I don't know. If 'e should come back and catch us…” Jenna still seemed doubtful.

“It's a chance we have to take. This
has
to end. And we're the ones who have to end it.” Emily glanced at Miles, her expression pleading for his support. “What do you think?”

The stable hand was quiet for a long moment. Then he gave a single, abrupt nod. “I think you're right. I think it's time this stopped, and this plan is as good as any.”

Breathing an inner sigh of relief, Emily waited for Jenna's decision. “Well?”

The younger girl bit her lip and closed her eyes, then inclined her head in agreement. “All right. I'm not sure whether I believe this is a good idea, but we're all in this together, and it's not as if I'd let you two go wivout me.”

Emily felt a wave of gratefulness wash over her as she smiled at her two friends. Thank God for Miles and Jenna! She didn't know what she would have done without them.

She caught hold of Jenna's hand, gripping it tightly. “Good. We'll do it tomorrow night then, after he leaves for the tavern. We'll finish this once and for all, and we'll make sure Jack Barlow regrets ever threatening the likes of us.”

“I'd say 'e already regrets it. Or if 'e doesn't, 'e should.” Jenna sent Miles an admiring look from un
der lowered lashes. “That was some facer you planted on 'im.”

The stable hand blushed under her intent regard. “You really think so?”

“I really do.”

As Miles preened under Jenna's praise, Emily let her head fall back and stared up at the stars overhead, allowing the warm night breeze to caress her face. For the first time in over a month, she felt free.

By this time tomorrow, she thought with determination, she would have brought an end to Jack's reign of terror. She would see him pay for all he had put her through.

And maybe, just maybe, if she could accomplish what she hoped to, Peter might be a bit more understanding—and forgiving—when she finally had to tell him the truth about the way she had deceived him and what she had been forced to do.

But she wouldn't count on it.

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