Captive Scoundrel (22 page)

The noisy hound must have his scent. He opened the panel and let the beast in, closing them both in. The dog set up a low growl. Justin hoped he was snarling at the bats.

Justin saw gleaming white teeth, while that snarl became louder, more threatening.

With little choice, Justin moved toward the stairs.

The dog lunged.

Knocked to the floor, Justin rolled to protect his face. And that’s when the cur licked his ear. A tail slapped his leg, a slobbering whimper accompanied the dog’s joy. “Toby?” The damned dog whined in ecstasy. “Shh, shh.” Justin scrubbed behind the canine’s ears. “Good boy,” he whispered, getting his face washed. “Shh, boy.”

The bickering voices dimmed and a door closed.

Faith woke when she heard a dog bark somewhere in the house.

Justin no longer slept beside her.

She checked his room, Beth’s, and her dressing room, her heart pounding madly. Had Vincent discovered Justin’s recovery? Was Hemsted, his man of affairs too curious? Had she been careless? Had Vincent sent someone to abduct Justin … to finish the deed?

Her imagination was getting the best of her.

Likely a stable dog. Perhaps Justin got up to investigate the barking … and then he was accosted. If she wasn’t so frightened, she’d laugh at herself.

One thing was certain, she couldn’t sit around waiting. She had to do something, so she checked Beth, made sure she slept soundly, donned her wrapper, and left the room.

Justin sat behind the fireplace scratching Toby’s ears and belly ‘till quiet reigned and they emerged. In the hall, Justin scratched one last time. “Back to your kitchen rug, Friend.” But the mongrel he’d rescued in a storm, six years before, would not step from his side. He slapped Toby’s rump. “Off with you, now.” But to no avail. Justin shook his head. “Come along, then. You’re twice Beth’s size, but she’ll love you.”

Approaching the centre of the house, Justin stopped to rest in an alcove, on a gilded chair he’d once pretended was a throne, when Faith came running from the opposite wing, stopped at the top of the stairs, looked down, and gasped.

Justin stood, but it could be a costly error to show himself.

A man appeared at the top of the stairs, nodded and smiled at Faith. “It’s me. Hard to see in the dark, I know.”

Faith relaxed visibly. “Mr. Hemsted Good evening.”

“Are you all right, Miss Wickham?”

Mr. and Miss. Good, they didn’t know each other that well. Justin leaned into the shadows.

“I’m fine, I … wanted something to drink. I can’t sleep.”

Justin frowned. Foolish thing to tell a man. When the blighter touched Faith’s arm, anger stiffened Justin’s spine. Somehow sensing it, Toby charged the pair like a rabid beast.

Hemsted saw the dog, grabbed Faith, and to Justin’s horror, Faith crumpled to the floor.

Justin made to run, but his legs didn’t remember how, and they buckled. He caught himself and fell back into the chair. Toby sat at the top of the stairs wagging his tail.

Bloody dumb dog.

Hemsted lifted Faith in his arms and carried her toward her room. Their room, damn it. Justin swallowed his roar of rage. Faith would kill him, herself, if he gave them away. So he remained hidden until the bounder came back and went downstairs.

Justin reached their room in record time.

Faith lay on her bed, unconscious, her gown and wrapper loosened—nearly to her waist! He’d kill the bastard! He locked the door and went to her. “Faith?” he whispered, unable to accept that his bastion of strength had crumbled. True, she hardly knew Hemsted—though Hemsted seemed to think she should—and Toby could be frightening, but to faint. Faith?

Toby settled on the hearth while Justin bathed Faith’s face and neck with cool water. Finally, she whimpered and turned her head. Justin raised her and put a cup of water to her lips. “Drink sweetheart, that’s right. Just a little. There.” He placed the cup on the bed-table.

Faith opened her eyes and turned ashen. In a blink, she was up and running. In her dressing room, she was abominably ill. He held her head while she retched, bathed her face, and gave her water to rinse her mouth. “You’re safe, sweetheart. Everything will be all right. I’m here.” He walked her back to bed and tucked her in. “I could strangle that man for touching you.”

“He didn’t touch me.”

Justin trailed a finger down the exposed valley between her breasts and tugged a hanging bodice ribbon. “Who did this?”

“You should worry about him learning the truth about you, not about … are you jealous?”

Justin ran his hand through his hair. “Of course not. He could be dangerous, that’s all. And he unfastened your gown.”

Someone knocked on the door. “Miss Wickham. Are you all right? I have brandy. May I come in?” Hemsted tried the knob, making Justin glad he’d locked the door.

Faith sat up, pushing him off the bed. “Go to your room,” she whispered. “I’ll open the door and tell him I’m fine.”

He shook his head. “No.”

Her hands on his chest, she backed him into his room. “I have to answer him,” she whispered. “Or he’ll force his way in.”

Justin huffed in resignation, but he retied the ribbons on her gown and shut her wrapper to her neck. “There.”

Faith’s smile, as she shut the door, calmed him.

Certain Justin was listening, Faith cracked her door open. Hemsted was, indeed, holding a glass of brandy. He smiled with relief. “Good. You’re looking better.”

“Thank you. I am. I’m sorry, I—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I frightened you, though it was not my intent. I have a ridiculous fear of dogs and thought to protect you.” He looked at the hearth. “That him?”

Faith was surprised to see the creature, nose on paws watching them, brows raising at opposite intervals, and she giggled. “Guess he isn’t as dangerous as we thought.”

Hemsted had a nice smile. “I guess not. Do you need anything before I go?”

A moan came from her patient and Faith’s face warmed. “I have everything I need. Thank you. My patient needs me.”

Hemsted stood there ‘till she shut and locked the door.

In Justin’s room, she glowered. “That was stupid.”

“I’d like to wring his bloody neck.”

“Shh. He’s a nice man, and he was worried about me.”

Oh what a look Justin gave her.

“Jealousy is beneath you,” she said.

“Jealous? I’m mad as bloody hell.” His look softened. “And worried, about you.” He examined her face. “When you fainted, I thought my heart would stop. Faith, you frightened me.”

“I frightened you? Someone is trying to kill you and you go missing.” She crossed her arms and stepped from his entreaty, fisting her hands so she wouldn’t reach for him. “Where the devil were you? I thought you’d been kidnapped. That Vincent took you…to murder you. Don’t smile, you half-wit. And no excuses, if you please. I awake from a sound sleep to hear a dog barking…and you are gone! Gone, Justin.”

He looked like a child with a purloined kitten. “Faith, I realize that exploring at night was probably stupid—though I could hardly do so during the day. I couldn’t sleep, and it’s not like I had anything to occupy me, after all.”

When Faith cuffed him, he chuckled, opened his arms, and she stepped in, hating herself for liking it.

“I thought if I knew where Vincent put us, I’d have an escape route, if we needed one. It didn’t occur to me you’d wake and find me gone. I’m sorry I frightened you.”

“You were a thoughtless idiot.”

“I was … am.” He chuckled.

“How dare you laugh at such a time.”

“You’re beautiful angry, all fire and spirit. I may inspire you to fury in future just to watch your eyes spark like that.” He teased her top lip with his bottom one, ran his hands down her back.

Those sparks he’d mentioned were travelling now, touching down in the oddest places. She shivered.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me,” he said, kissing her. “I beg your pardon, truly,” he whispered, warming her, and Faith supposed there was nothing to do but forgive.

After that kiss, Justin declared a victory of sorts with his grin. “Am I forgiven then, for being so foolhardy and thoughtless?”

“My heart near stopped when I couldn’t find you.”

He frowned. “Am I asking too much to continue this farce? Perhaps we should just deal with Vincent in the open.”

“No! He’ll find another way. I’m fine. Really. I was frightened, that’s all. You have to stay hidden until Vincent’s fate is sealed. It’s the safest way.”

Christmas Eve arrived, almost by surprise. Faith dressed Beth in a red velvet frock for their secret family Christmas, while Jenny and Sally primped for the servants’ party.

“Sally, did you have someone purchase the d-o-l-l?”

“I walked to the village yesterday while Beth was with you.”

With Beth in her arms, Faith saw Jenny and Sally on their way. “Now we can have our Christmas party. You, me, and Poppy.” When someone rapped on her door, Faith set Beth down and opened it. “Mr. Hemsted. Good evening.” Justin was not going to like this.

“Happy Christmas, Miss Wickham. May I come in?”

Satan, Hemsted’s shadow-cat stepped inside. Good thing Toby was with Justin. “Well, I … we were just about to have Christmas—”

He stepped into the room. “I’ll stay but a moment.”

Beth put her finger in her mouth, regarding him warily.

“Does that cat really go everywhere you do?” Faith asked.

He chuckled. “It does.”

Had he heard her ask the cat about poison, or seen her search outside at midnight? Had he given the vials to Vincent? “Does it ever go anywhere alone?”

“Tom-catting at midnight.” Hemsted shook his head. “It doesn’t tempt me.”

Faith stifled a giggle as he knelt before Beth. “Hello there. I’ve seen you romping outside.” Beth put her arm around Faith’s leg, and leaned into her.

Hemsted smiled. “Merry Christmas, Beth. I have a gift for you.”

“You needn’t have,” Faith said.

“I wanted to.” He pulled a bright wooden cone from his pocket and held it in the palm of his hand. “Take it. It’s a top.”

Wide-eyed, Beth stared from him to the toy.

“Do you know what a top does?”

Beth shook her head.

“Watch.” Hemsted put it on the floor and gave it a twist. It turned with colour-hazing speed. When it staggered and fell, Beth got right down and started it whirling again.

Hemsted smiled and stood. “You look festive in Christmas green. By God, your dress matches your eyes. All you need is holly in your hair. Every man’s Christmas wish come true.”

Faith didn’t know how to respond, or how to make him leave. She smoothed her dress. “Thank you.”

“You don’t look like you’d throw furniture in a fit of pique.”

Faith was stunned until she remembered the night in Vincent’s study when Vincent told him she was having the tantrum.

He laughed. “Your response says it all. I suspected as much.”

She laughed too, reminding herself that beneath his charm, he was Vincent’s man still. And Justin must be simmering with every word. She hoped he could keep his temper in check.

How could she get the curious man of affairs to leave?

Hemsted placed his hand on Justin’s doorknob.

Faith shook her head, warning him off.

Countering her, Hemsted nodded and turned the knob.

Faith placed her hand on Justin’s door so fast, Hemsted raised his brows. “I’d like to see your patient.”