Taffeta & Hotspur (16 page)

He had not told her yet—wait, she had
not told him.

She must love him. He couldn’t bear it
if she didn’t love him. She did … she must. She could not have
given herself with such abandon had she not—could she?

Hell and damnation! He could not get
back to her soon enough.

~*~

Lord Bruton was met at the door by
Jarvis and told Lady Taffeta was above stairs.

“
I’ll wait.” he
said.

“
She asked not to be
interrupted…” said Jarvis with a frown.

“
And still, I will wait.
Perhaps you can slip my card under her door and tell her I am here
to take her for a ride through the park if she would
like.”

Jarvis sighed and started for the
stairs. Bruton looked at the silver salver on the center round
table and saw there Lord Tarrant’s seal. It was a note addressed to
Lady Taffeta.

He waited for Jarvis to get just out
of view and hurriedly snatched it up and immediately slipped it
into his pocket. At his back and just at that moment, the door
opened to admit both Nigel and the lady’s brother.

They saw him and stopped short. He
couldn’t know if they had seen him take the note from the salver.
He assumed not for they were just the types to challenge him for
it.

The young duke said curtly, “Bruton …
my aunt is away, and my sister is not receiving male visitors in
her absence.”

Bruton nodded and said aloofly, “Of
course, I merely thought to take Lady Taffeta out for a ride in
Hyde Park.”

“
She can’t go. She is
promised to us for the day.”

He inclined his head and left them at
his back, much irritated with the manner in which they received
him. Who the devil did they think they were?

This was going to be difficult if her
brother did not approve the match, although he rather thought Lady
Taffeta had a mind of her own.

He was hardly able to wait until he
was safely within his coach before he opened the sealed note to
read Tarrant’s note and smirk to himself. Well, well… So the
Hotspur had received his coup de gras. How very amusing it would be
to steal the lady out from under his grasp.

~*~

“Come on,” said her brother as he
dragged her down the stairs, “We are taking you to lunch. We have
something of a problem and don’t want the servants hearing bits and
pieces.”

“
What—won’t the waiters hear
us?”

“
Not at Wilkes Coffee House;
we’ll take a private booth. You’ll like it, and it will get you
out. You’ll like that too.”

Taffy sighed. She had been happily
lying on her bed, dreaming of Tarrant and looking forward to the
little soiree that evening where she was sure she would see him
again. However, her brother and uncle seemed very anxious for her
company, and so she went along willingly enough.

Nigel looked at her as he helped her
into the waiting hackney and remarked, “You are looking very well,
Taffy.”

“
Thank you, Nigel. I feel …
very well,” she answered with an impish smile and settled on her
seat, spreading the skirt of her blue velvet cloak about
herself.

“
Taffy, have you had … any
premonitions lately?” Her brother got right to the
point.

She blushed as she thought of the one
that had just been fulfilled and answered hesitantly,
“Nooo…”

“
Well, we need to talk,
because something ugly has occurred.”

And then without warning, it happened,
and it was so different than her other visions. This time, it was
as though a strong giant hand had reached over and scooped her up.
She sat in the giant’s palm and watched totally detached from the
scene unfolding before her eyes. It was in the dark of night, and
she saw herself being dragged from her carriage. Why was she alone
in a carriage? Ah, she wasn’t alone; Catherine was with her. Two
men were holding guns to the driver, and Catherine was clutching
her hand.

They were clothed in gowns—going
somewhere—but unescorted, why? Why were they unescorted? That was
all wrong.

The men were in black low hoods and
masks, and the tall one yanked her away from Catherine and pulled
her toward his horse. There was something familiar about him, about
his scent.

His voice was low and raspy, and he
snapped at her, “Don’t worry, I mean to make it right, and by
morning, you will be my wife…”

And she realized. “Bruton…” she
whispered. It all made sense now.

And just as suddenly as the vision had
arrived, it was gone.

“
No, Seth … it can’t… I
won’t let it happen…”

“
What, Taffy… What did you
see? And do let go of my arm, you are pinching me to
death.”

“
Oh, sorry,” she said as she
released him and took a long drag of air. “I saw someone dressed
like…” She lowered her voice. “…the way we dress when we are the
three … pretending to be the Rogues Three, and he said he was going
to marry me, against my will, and I tell you, Seth, I won’t let it
happen.”

“
Don’t you worry, Sis. We
won’t let it happen. Where were you? We will take care not to let
you travel that road.”

“
I was alone with Catherine.
We were in a carriage … going somewhere together … just on the
outskirts of London, and Seth—it was Bruton.”

Seth released a long low whistle and
turned to eye Nigel. “Damned impudent scoundrel.”

“
Well, we have his measure,
and we won’t let this happen, Taff … mark me,” said her uncle with
some determination.

“
I wonder…” said
Seth.

“
You wonder about what?”
Taffy asked.

“
Whether Bruton … dressed
like he was in your vision has anything to do with what we have
just discovered.”

“
What have you just
discovered?”

Their hack had arrived outside the
entrance to the coffee house so conversation was suspended until
they had left it behind and were seated in a quiet corner of the
busy establishment.

With their heads together, Nigel said
with a frown, “I shall get right to the point, three blackguards
have been disguising themselves as the Rogues Three and stealing
secrets from the crown … delivering them to the frogs…” he said
under his breath.

“
I know about the imposters.
Tarrant told me,” said Taffy. “It was supposed to be a
secret.”

“
And you didn’t tell us?”
Seth was shocked to ask.

“
I was going to … just
haven’t had a chance … but go on, go on,” she urged. “It makes no
sense why they should ape the Rogues Three, however, perhaps it
amuses them to also work against the Luddite movement—put the blame
at their door, make everyone think they are traitors as well as
thieves.” Seth visibly seethed.

“
This is awful. We must do
something,” cried Taffeta.

“
Yes, but what?” Seth
brightened. “Do you think you could conjure up a vision … see who
it is?”

“
It doesn’t work that way,
you know that.” Taffy sighed.

“
Work on it, and it
might.”

Taffy glared at him and took a long
sip of her coffee and then a bite of her cake and then stared
across the room. Her mouth opened and closed as she watched the
fashionable man making his way toward them. Bruton.

He was a devil. How now could she
bring him low without putting herself in the line of fire? She
couldn’t. She was the line of fire.

Her vision had put a new take on just
how much of a blackguard he was, and she was going to have to
devise a new plan.

Bruton arrived at their table, bent
low over her fingers, ignored her brother and uncle in his usual
aloof fashion, and looked only at her. Taffy managed a smile and
wondered if he was already planning to abduct her, or would it
enter his head at some later date. If only her vision had given her
a clue as to timing.

He took up a nearby chair and lifted
it to set it in place at their table before he made a flourish of
sitting beside Taffeta.

Nigel objected, “I say … we are having
a private…”

“
I shan’t stay long.” Bruton
turned to her. “Shall I see you at Lady White’s soiree
tonight?”

“
Oh, why yes…” All at once,
she wished she wasn’t attending.

“
And will you wear my
posy?”

“
Your posy? I have not
received your posy,” she answered truthfully.

“
You shall, later this
afternoon,” he answered.

“
Oh… I am sorry, I have
already accepted to carry another’s posy,” she answered
brightly.

“
Really? Who holds that
honor?”

“
I do,” said a strong hard
voice at Bruton’s back.

Taffeta looked up with adoration and
relief in her eyes, and found gray eyes looking back soothingly
into hers. He spoke to her with those dark sensual eyes, and she
felt her heart beat faster.

It was as though his voice whispered
in her ear, telling her he would always be there for her, would
always protect her, and she felt a swelling of feeling that nearly
made her want to cry with happiness.

Bruton stood up at once, nodded to
Tarrant, bowed to Lady Taffeta and said quietly, anger lining his
words, “It appears I was behind in my attention. I shall not be
again.” He turned on his heel and left them.

“
Good show, Tarrant!” said
Taffy’s brother, standing to slap the Hotspur on his shoulder, “Do
sit…”

Tarrant took up Bruton’s vacated chair
and got right to the point, “I was on my way out of town, made a
stop at the Home Office, and plans were changed. When I stopped by
your aunt’s, Jarvis told me that you were all here.”

Taffeta felt the caress as his gaze
traveled over her, and he asked her softy, “Did you get my
note?”

“
Note … no?”

“
Aha!” said Seth, “Devil! I
thought I saw him slipping something into his pocket.” He shook his
head, “Looks like Bruton got hold of it. Devil—the very idea,
stealing people’s private missives!”

Tarrant didn’t answer this directly,
but he said on a hard low note, “I will have to cut out his heart
and feed it to him in pieces.”

“
Yes, you must…” And then
her pretty features softened once more as she asked Tarrant, “You
sent me a note?” Before he could answer, she turned on her brother
“Faith … Bruton was at the house? You didn’t tell me Seth, and he
stole a note meant for me? This is outrageous.” She turned back to
Tarrant, “Yes, do cut out his heart … if you can find
it.”

A moment’s silence fell over them as
each considered the meaning of Bruton’s behavior, and Seth cleared
his throat and said, “Better tell Tarrant now, sis… He is a right
‘un, and he should know…”

She wasn’t about to disclose the fact
she had visions. She just wasn’t ready, so she glared at her
brother and said, “Seth babbles like a woman. It is nothing. I have
very strong instincts, and Bruton worries me, that is
all.”

The Hotspur considered her for a
moment but obviously didn’t mean to grill her about it as he said,
“Then let us get to the point. Rogues Three must never ride again
in Nottingham.”

“
Right,” said
Nigel.

“
And their cloaks, masks… I
can’t help but wonder where the three rascals hid them,” mused
Tarrant looking meaningfully at them.

“
Well, as to that…” Seth
coughed in his fist. “I would imagine they thought to keep the
things as mementos … but wisdom overruled, and we believe the three
must have burned their disguises…”

“
Ah, they have more brains
than I gave them credit for.” Tarrant grinned. “My next question is
this. You know I believe we have a problem with imposters here in
London … posing as the three and stealing documents meant for
Wellington?”

“
Villainous traitors!” said
Nigel.

“
Just so,” said Tarrant. “We
mean to set a trap for them, and I want you somewhere very public
when we do … just as a safeguard.”

“
No one knows… I mean …
well…” His voice trailed off.

Tarrant laughed and shook his head,
“’Tis done, but we still wouldn’t want anyone making any
connections and attempting any … er … blackmail.”

“
Damn, no!” said
Nigel.

“
And one more thing. In the
upcoming days and evenings, I expect you to help me keep an eye on
Lady Taffeta as I suspect if certain individuals are denied their
goals, they may think to … take by force what isn’t given
willingly.” He looked at Taffeta and then at her male relatives,
“You will have to make certain she does not enjoy the freedom she
has grown accustomed to, clear?”

“
Clear but…” Seth started on
a snort. “Easier said than done.”

“
Nevertheless, I believe her
well-being to be in immediate danger … for several reasons, and if
you can’t manage to keep her in check, I shall.”