The Purloined Heart (The Tyburn Trilogy) (25 page)
Only a crackbrain would think that. If he no longer fought the French, the lieutenant still rode and boxed; indulged in all the sports so beloved by gentlemen, and some others that were not. Even dressed by the finest tailors, he retained the air of the adventurer he so recently had been.
The lieutenant also had an air of wishing to punch out someone’s daylights. Bates didn’t care to volunteer. “I’ll just be seeing Miss Clea to her chamber, sir,” he said, and ushered that reluctant damsel from the room.
Ned waited until the door clicked closed behind them before he turned back to the prisoner. He found himself curious to see the rest of her face.
He reached for her. She tensed. “Behave yourself,” said Ned. “Or I won’t remove your gag. Before you try and bite me, you might remember that I may still turn you over to the constable.” Gingerly, he untied the sodden material and pulled it out of her mouth.
She grimaced. “Bugger and blast.”
Her voice was light, oddly appealing. “Tsk! Such language. What were you doing in my house?”
The straight little nose twitched.
“’
Twas a misunderstanding. I was just passing by.”
“And dropped in for a spot of brandy? You’re not a very good liar. I think I will untie you, all the same. You’ll recall that I have the gun.”
She eyed the pistol. “Ain’t likely to forget, am I?”
Her hands were tied in front of her. Wisdom dictated that he leave them safely bound. Surprisingly elegant hands they were, the fingers slender and graceful underneath their dirt.
Ned set aside the firearm, unfastened the cords that secured her ankles, rubbed the soft flesh where the bonds had chafed. Her bones were small, delicate, finely formed. She cursed and tried to kick him. He experienced an absurd impulse to pick up this defiant little scrap and hold her safe from the world.
Well, why not? If he could hardly hold a housebreaker safe, he could certainly still hold her. Ned untangled her from the chair; scooped her up, drapery and dirt and all, and sat her on the desk. The fabric parted, revealing one smooth and slender shoulder, and the curve of one plump breast. Older than he had thought her, he decided. She clutched at the curtain and scowled.
Here was one female unimpressed by his title. Ned trailed one finger down her soft cheek. “Tell me your name.”
She turned her head and bit his wrist; at the same time planted her bare foot in his groin. Abruptly, Ned released her. “Point taken,” he said and then cursed, because she grasped the ugly statue in her hands and aimed it at his head.
Caught off balance, Ned stumbled backward.
The thief scooted off his desk. He grabbed for her, but caught handfuls of the curtain instead. She brought the statue down, hard, on his skull. Entangled in dusty draperies, Ned crashed to the floor.
He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. Nyx leaped down from her stack of books, padded forward, and stuck a cold nose in his face.
The cat’s breath reeked of fish. Ned pushed her away. Nyx made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snicker, and curled up on the hearth.
Slowly, Ned sat up, clutching his sore head. He’d not soon forget his last glimpse of the housebreaker, scrambling mother-naked out his library window, clutching his ugly statue in her hand.
Damned if he’d enjoyed anything so much since he’d left the Peninsula. When Bates returned to the library, he found his master holding a bloody handkerchief to his head, and laughing like a loon.
History is a fluid thing. Primary sources frequently don’t agree. I have tried to be as true as possible to actual events while rearranging some minor details to better suit the story.
A partial bibliography follows:
In The Absence of the Emperor
,
London-Paris 1814-
1815, written by Simona Pakenham, published by Cresset Press, London, 1968.
The Age of Elegance,
written by Arthur Bryant, published by Harper and Brothers Publisher, New York, 1950.
The Prince of Pleasure and his Regency,
J. B. Priestley, Harper and Row, 1969
George IV,
Christopher Hibbert, Palgrave Macmillan, 2007
Wellington, The Years of the Sword,
Elizabeth Longford, Harper and Row, 1969
Napoleon on Elba,
Sir Neal Campbell, edited by Jonathan North, Ravenhall Books, 2004
England’s Triumph: Being An Account Of The Rejoicings, Etc., Which Have Lately Taken Place In London And Elsewhere (1814),
printed for
J. Hatchard Bookseller to the Queen
I was also fortunate enough to come into possession of various 1814 issues of
The Gentleman’s Magazine
.
Another excellent source of information is BritishHistory Online:
www.british_history.ac.uk/
The Purloined Heart
Quin
Point Non Plus
The Tyburn Waltz
Vampire, Bespelled
Waltz With A Vampire
An Extraordinary Flirtation
Lover’s Knot
Love Match
Cupid’s Dart
Lady Sherry and the Highwayman
French Leave
Our Tabby
Sweet Vixen
An Eligible Connection
Strange Bedfellows
Lady Sweetbriar
A Notorious Lady
Fair Fatality
The Misses Millikin
Jessabelle
Lady Bliss
A Banbury Tale
Lady in the Straw
Lord Fairchild’s Daughter
El Dorado
Outlaw Love
Caprice