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Authors: Joan Smith

Tags: #Regency Romance

BOOK: Prelude to Love
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It remained only to see to the letter's safekeeping for the rest of the night. With that balcony running right past her window, and with Kiley in the inn, she did not feel at all secure. She checked to make sure the window was locked. Access could only be gained by breaking the glass, which would cause enough noise to bring help. But just in case, she examined the room for a secure hiding place.

Nothing seemed right. In the end, she folded the letter in half lengthwise, opened up the end of the curtain's hem, and inserted it. It caused the hem to stick out at an odd angle, but in a dark corner it would not be noticed. She left the curtains open, so that the extra fullness could hang in front of the straight edge that held the letter. This done, she undressed and went to bed for a few hours. It was impossible; she lay with her eyes wide open, staring at the rectangle of the window, convinced a dark head and shoulders would appear. It was well past three when her eyes eventually fluttered shut. Not long after four, it happened.

Under normal sleeping circumstances, she might easily have missed it. It was not at all a loud noise, not loud enough to rouse other patrons of the establishment. There was a thumping sound from across the hall, in Harvey's room. She jumped out of bed, ran to her door and unlocked it. The hall was dark. A single lamp burned low at the far end, toward the stairs. No light issued from under Harvey's door, but the thumping continued, louder now, as she hesitantly approached its source. She took the door handle and shook it, but the door was locked. Frightened and uncertain how to proceed, she returned to her room for a light. It was only half a minute later that she returned to the hall, but already Carlisle's door stood open. She caught a fleeting glimpse of a dark form running down the hall, but her attention was mostly on Harvey, and the blood streaming down his face.

"What happened? Come to my room at once. I'll awaken Elleri and send for a doctor."

Carlisle looked as though he had single-handedly done battle with a whole army. His eyes were puffed and one was darkening. Blood streamed from his nose and the corner of his mouth. His clothing, jacket and trousers, were all disheveled. It was necessary for him to put an arm around her shoulder to limp to her room.

She saw him to a chair before rousing her aunt. A chattering, nervous lady was little enough help to either of them. "Call a doctor, at once!" she demanded.

"No, we don't want to attract any attention to ourselves," Harvey said weakly.

"Did Kiley do this?" Vanessa asked, knowing the answer already.

"Yes. He did not believe my tale of an elopement, as you warned from the start. He only pretended, to put me off my guard. He got into my room while I slept. I cannot imagine how he did it—I had the door locked. Oh, my God! We'd better see if the letter is safe. I hope your coming saved it, Vanessa. I had the valise pushed under my bed, right against the wall. He may not have gotten to it."

"Never mind that," she answered. "Auntie, bring the basin of water and clean towels. We must send for help. This left eye is cut."

"I have basilicum powder, gauze and plaster. I never travel without them," she said, running back to her room to get them.

Vanessa, looking at the bruised and bloodied young face before her, felt entirely culpable. She had brought this poor, innocent fellow to this state. She bathed the blood away gingerly, tenderly, asking at each stroke if it hurt.

"I don't know whether it is pain or ecstasy," he answered, looking into her eyes. It was hard to repress him, under the prevailing circumstances, so she ignored his meaningful words.

Elleri returned to add her noisy mite to the proceedings. Together the two women bathed his face, patched his various bruises and inveighed against the brutality of Kiley.

"But had we not better see about the letter?" Carlisle mentioned, more than once. "My door is not even locked .. ."

"We'd see him if he went in," Elleri pointed out.

Vanessa did not say the letter her case held was a hoax, but if he had his wits about him, she thought he must have guessed it. When he was feeling better, he rose up carefully, feeling his left shoulder with his right hand. "I'll go and see if he got it," he said.

"I'll go with you," Nessa said, looking around the room for a weapon. The poker stood by the grate. She took it up in one hand, lending her other to Harvey, who carried the lamp. While Miss Simons cleared away the medical supplies, the others went at a tardy, dragging gait to his room, leaving her and his doors open, to ensure a view of anyone trying to enter and steal the letter.

His chamber was a total shambles. The clothes-press door hung open, its contents tossed on the floor. Amidst the ruins, Vanessa saw her own belongings, petticoats and gowns, stockings and shawls, scattered hither and thither. Her suitcase was by the window, open and empty, with the lining torn up, the paper gone.

"He got it! Oh, Vanessa—what can I say? How can I
ever
make it up to you? I was supposed to be protecting it, and you, and now ..."

"It's all right, Harvey. It's not your fault."

He looked at her, frowning. "You don't seem very upset."

"I
am
upset, that I put you through this, and very sorry too. Can you forgive me?"

"Forgive you? Forgive you for what, trusting a fool? But you did not trust me, did you? You knew how incompetent I was, how ill prepared to deal with a villain like Kiley. He is
vicious.
I never fought such an
animal
before, every manner of low trick. He learned his skills in an alley, kicking and punching my insides while I lay helpless in bed. If my organs aren't permanently injured, I will be much surprised. A gentleman would not ... Well, we know what he is. But the letter—it is safe? I assume it was something else you hid under the lining, as you are taking this so calmly."

She set down the poker and began gathering up her apparel, tossing things at random into her case. She did not answer his question. He came up close behind her, turned her toward him and took her hands.

"I'm not offended at your not trusting me. As it turns out, you were the wiser of us. Your ruse fooled Kiley, and that is all that matters."

"No, it is not all that matters, Harvey. I am very sorry for what happened to you. It is my fault."

"Don't blame yourself. How should you have any idea of that man's brutality? You must let me help you. You see how dangerous he is. Only think if it were
you
he had attacked, rather than myself. A defenseless woman ... It would make no difference to
him,
you know. Yes, it would, though. There are others,
worse
revenges he would take against a woman. You understand my meaning."

A shiver ran through her body. He put his arms around her, protectively. Suddenly his head came down, his lips looking for hers. The danger, the pity she felt for him, the flickering shadows the candle cast on the walls, the very nearness of a handsome and personable man—all had their effect. She allowed him to kiss her, and even found it rather pleasant, till she discovered how much stronger an effect it had on Harvey. He crushed her against him, beginning a much more passionate attack than she had anticipated.

"Oh, darling, my darling. You must let me protect you. I can't bear to think of you at that man's mercy. Such innocence, such beauty and purity! Such ..." He stopped whispering, and tried to kiss her again.

She tried to push him off, protesting. He held her more tightly, pressing his advances on her till she became quite frightened. "Harvey—stop! My aunt will be coming."

"Get rid of her. Send her back to bed, and return to me."

"Mr. Carlisle!" she gasped, aghast at the implications of his speech.

"Don't misunderstand! Oh, please, don't think
that
of me. I only meant we must make plans about delivering the letter safely. I know you will dislike to do it, but I think you should give it to me. Now that I am fully aware of Kiley's nature and convinced of his intentions, I will be much more careful. I want you out of all this awful business, my darling."

"That is kind of you, but really I am not at all sure you can handle Kiley any better than I can myself."

"I'll hire guards, or get hold of constables. This is too serious to allow of any further risk. Where is it?"

"It is hidden away safely."

"Yes, but where?"

"Where he won't find it. I
shall
call a constable, but not to accompany us. We must press charges against Kiley. Have the constable go after him. We cannot handle him alone."

"Your father wouldn't like it, to give so much publicity to it all. Secrecy surely is necessary."

"There will be no publicity involving me or the letter if
you
press charges against the man who beat you up and tried to rob you. The only ones who will make any connection between the two events are you, Kiley and myself. It will remove, or at least hamper, Kiley, and make my job easier."

"Our job," he corrected.

"You know you're not fit to travel. You could not possibly go on in this condition."

"Pshaw!" he said at once. "A black eye and a drawn cork aren't likely to stop me."

"What of the kicking, the beating, he administered while you were in bed?"

"I'll live. I
won't
let you go on unprotected. I'll see a doctor as soon as the message has been delivered."

She wanted only to pacify him and get away. "All right. All right, Harvey, I'll let you come, but only if you will lay charges this very night against Kiley. Why should we not? It will remove him from our affairs."

He considered a moment. "Very well. You are correct, as usual. I'll send an inn-boy off for the constable. Have him come here, for I will not leave you alone, at the mercy of that brute, for one single minute."

"Agreed," she said.

Miss Simons peered her head in at the door. "What chaos!" she exclaimed, looking all around the room.

"Kiley is demented," Harvey said, then he walked to his bell pull and gave it a few tugs. They waited at the door, with frequent darts across to Vanessa's room, till the messenger arrived.

"The constable won't want to come at this hour of the night," the boy pointed out.

"Bring him," Vanessa insisted. "Can't you see this man has been beaten within an inch of his life, and robbed?"

"What was took?" the boy asked.

The three exchanged a startled glance. Vanessa was the first to reach a decision. A man was more likely to be locked up if he had stolen something of considerable worth. "A hundred pounds, from Mr. Carlisle's purse," she said firmly.

Carlisle nodded. "A hundred pounds, slightly more, counting small bills and change."

The boy tilted his head in consideration, and apparently deemed the sum worth reporting to the constable in the middle of the night. He left to fetch him.

"My aunt and I will not want to be here when he comes," Vanessa said. "We want this to look like a simple robbery."

"Poor Harvey. The beating was not simple," Miss Sunons said, shaking her head in sympathy.

"You two run along. I'll speak to the constable, then go to you. It will be daylight by then. You will want an early start, I should think?"

"Yes, come to us as soon as he leaves," Vanessa said.

They went first to Vanessa's room, to talk together a few moments. "Why don't you try to get a little more sleep?" the niece suggested. "We'll have to be up early enough."

Yawning, her aunt agreed, with only the addendum that she knew she could not possibly sleep, but she would just lie down and rest awhile. Within minutes, soft, gurgling snores were coming through the open door. Vanessa went quietly forward and closed the door. She looked at her aunt's traveling clock on the dresser, wondering which would come first, Carlisle or the inn servant with her masquerade suit. If it chanced to be Harvey, she would have to stave him off with some excuse till she had changed and left. It would be better to be wearing a dress, so she changed into street clothes, thinking that with her luck, the two of them would arrive at her door together, to reveal her plan.

Once or twice she went to the door, put her ear to it and listened for sounds in the hall, but heard nothing. The constable was taking his time about answering the call. In the end, she decided to try for a little rest. She would just lie on top of the counterpane in her gown till one or the other of the expected knocks sounded.

Before doing this, she walked in the darkness, her candle extinguished now, to the window, planning to look out and ensure no one was loitering on the balcony. She must also check the curtain hem, to see the letter was still safe. There was no movement and no sound in the blackness beyond her window.

She felt the lock at the window's top, then gasped in shock. It was undone! Someone had unfastened the latch from the inside. The glass was not broken. While she and her aunt had been out, someone had sneaked in and undone the latch, planning to slip in after she was asleep. What other explanation could there be?

Her fingers trembled, her whole body shook, as she slid the bolt back into place. Kiley! It was Kiley who had been in her room, at some point during those visits to and fro between Harvey's room and her own. How did he have the gall to do it, right under her nose? He was part cat, to move so stealthily, with no one hearing or seeing him.

The letter! Had he got it? She looked down at the hem. It was very dark, too dark to be certain the curtain bulged at a suspicious angle. It could be only shadows. She was not certain those darker spots beneath the curtain were boots either, though they looked dreadfully like it. "Please, God, make them be shadows," she said under her breath.

 

Chapter Twelve

 

She stood, her breath suspended with fright, staring at the dark spots beneath the curtain. When the spots moved ever so little, she jumped back as though on a string, with no consciousness that she did it. There was a blur of swaying drapery, then a large pair of shoulders moved in the faint light from the window, moved swiftly to place themselves behind her. A hand was clamped over her mouth; the other arm went around her waist, pulling her firmly back against a man's chest. He had been there all the time, hiding behind the curtain, to attack her. He had even watched her change her clothing.

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