Seduced at Midnight Page 23

  "What about Lord Walston?"

  Henry shook his head. "Couldn't find the slightest whiff of scandal or bad behavior about the man."

  Gideon's brows rose. "Nothing?"

  "Nothing. From all the praise I heard of him, he's a candidate for sainthood."

  "Which means there must be something."

  "Exactly. Don't worry. I'll find it. Just need to dig a bit deeper."

  "And Logan Jennsen?"

  "Another one I'll need to dig deeper on. Heard rumors of some scandal in America, but no details as of yet."

  Gideon cleared his throat. "Anything on Jack Mayne?" He'd added the name to the bottom of list, dreading any information but needing to know.

  Henry looked decidedly uncomfortable. "You, um, know he's, um…"

  "A thief. Yes. Tell me something I don't know. Like what he's been up to lately and why he's in London."

  There was no missing Henry's relief that he wasn't shattering some pristine image a son might have of his father. "Haven't found anything other than that, but I'll keep lookin'."

  After thanking Henry, Gideon escorted him to the foyer. He then climbed the stairs, intent on checking on Caesar. When he turned into the corridor leading to Julianne's bedchamber, he halted.

  Caesar lay on his back, his left back paw twitching in delight as Julianne, who knelt beside the beast, gave his belly a vigorous rub. Caesar was making sounds that Gideon guessed were the canine equivalent of Bloody hell, that feels so good. Princess Buttercup lay sprawled on her stomach, her tiny front paws set possessively on Caesar's tail.

  "Oh, you like that, don't you?" Julianne crooned.

  Caesar made an answering sound that surely translated to I do, I do, I do. Please don't ever stop.

  Gideon found himself pressing his hand against his own stomach. He vividly recalled the incredible feel of her hands caressing him there. And thinking, Please don't ever stop.

  Just then she looked up, and their eyes met. Everything inside him stilled-except his heart, which seemed to hiccup then double its normal rate. Images from last night bombarded him, tying his tongue in knots, rendering him for several seconds unable to do anything except stare. And want. With a soul-deep ache.

  Her gaze slid away, and he realized he'd been holding his breath. After giving Caesar a final pat, she stood and offered Gideon a formal nod and a serious expression. "Good morning, Mr. Mayne."

  An acute sense of loss washed through him. Damn it, he didn't want to be Mr. Mayne. He wanted to be Gideon. He wanted to be smiled at. He wanted-

  Things he couldn't have.

  She was perfectly right, putting things back on a formal level between them. Obviously she'd accepted his decision, which was good. Excellent. His mind, his common sense knew it, yet he still felt unreasonably displeased.

  Caesar jumped to his feet and trotted over to Gideon, followed closely by his furry white shadow who today was adorned in a glittering collar and a pair of bright yellow ear bows. After greeting both dogs, which was returned sedately by Caesar and most effusively by Princess Buttercup, Gideon returned his attention to Julianne and said, "Good morning." He couldn't quite bring himself to formally call her Lady Julianne.

  He didn't bother to ask if she'd slept well. He could see by the violet shadows beneath her eyes that she hadn't. Her eyes…bloody hell, looking into them actually hurt. They reminded him of a flame that had been doused with water-utterly extinguished of light. Indeed, her eyes held such a bleak expression it was all he could do to refrain from snatching her into his arms and telling her everything would be all right.

  But that would be a lie. And no lie would change the truth of their impossible situation.

  "I take it there were no disturbances during the night?" she asked.

  "None."

  And of course they both knew what that meant: that he would remain here to watch over her. Another awkward silence stretched between them. Finally she said, "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Mayne, I'll continue to the dining room for breakfast."

  "I'll escort you."

  She merely nodded and began walking. As she passed him, the scent of vanilla teased his senses, and his fingers curled inward. With a low whistle to Caesar, Gideon fell into step beside her. The only sound as they moved along the corridor was the rustling of Julianne's gown. They were halfway down the long, curved staircase when Julianne's mother entered the foyer and asked Winslow, "Has my daughter shown herself yet?"

  Before the butler could answer, Julianne said, "I'm here, Mother," and hurried the rest of the way down the stairs.

  "Finally," the countess said, her gaze raking over Julianne and looking none too pleased. Her attention flicked to Gideon. "Mr. Mayne. Did you capture the hooligan who tried to rob us?"

  Gideon noted he was the hooligan "who tried to rob us" rather than the hooligan who'd threatened their daughter. "I'm afraid the hooligan is still at large," he said in a cool voice. "However, the good news is that no further attempt was made on your daughter's life, and she is safe."

  The countess's eyes narrowed. "And you will make sure she remains so."

  "Yes, I will."

  Clearly satisfied that her wishes would be carried out, she returned her attention to Julianne. "Your gowns have just arrived from Madame Renee's."

  "Gowns?" Julianne asked, sounding puzzled. "More than one?"

  "Yes. By virtue of the exorbitant bonus I paid her, Madame was able to complete enough work on your wedding gown to send it along for its first fitting. Isn't that marvelous news?" Not waiting for an answer to what she clearly considered a rhetorical question, the countess continued, "Madame herself is here to oversee the fitting. She awaits us in my private sitting room. Come along." She turned and headed toward the corridor, clearly expecting Julianne to follow.

  "Lady Julianne was just about to eat breakfast," Gideon said, stepping in front of Julianne to block her progress.

  The silence in the foyer was deafening. The countess turned and looked at him as if he'd sprouted a third eyeball in the center of his forehead. If he hadn't been so irritated, Gideon would have laughed at her expression.

  "I believe you've quite forgotten yourself, Mr. Mayne," the countess said coldly. "Julianne can breakfast after her fittings."

  "And how long will these fittings take?"

  "It doesn't matter," Julianne said, stepping around him to wade into the tension. "I'm really not hungry."

  "If she doesn't eat," Gideon said, his gaze steady on the countess, "she could become weak. Ill. She might even swoon at the party tonight."

  The countess's lips puckered as if she'd bit into a lemon. "We can't have that." She heaved a sigh. "I'll arrange for some biscuits you can nibble during the fitting, Julianne. Of course, if you'd arisen earlier, we could have avoided this. Come along now."

  She swept into the corridor, and Julianne followed, with Gideon right behind her. When they reached the door to the sitting room, the countess stopped and frowned at Gideon. "What are you doing?" she asked in a hushed voice, her hand on the brass knob.

  "I am accompanying Lady Julianne, thus insuring her safety."

  "You cannot mean to come to the fitting."

  "I most certainly do."

  The countess's eyes flashed, and she sizzled a look at him clearly meant to incinerate him on the spot. "Well, you cannot. A man at a fitting is completely beyond the pale. Besides, if you were there, Madame would have nothing but questions, and we want to keep this unpleasantness as contained as possible."

  Gideon had to bite his tongue to keep from telling her that she was clearly the authority on "unpleasantness." He personally didn't care if Madame asked questions or if the countess was displeased. But as he didn't want to make things any more unpleasant for Julianne, he turned to her and said, "I'll be right outside this door. If you need anything or have a problem, you call for me."

  "I won't have you skulking in the corridor, Mr. Mayne, where anyone might see you," the countess said, looking down her nose at him-quite a feat as h
e was easily a foot taller than her. "It is ridiculous to think any harm could come to Julianne during the fitting." She nodded toward the next door. "You may wait in the library. There is an adjoining door between the two rooms should an emergency arise." Without another word she grabbed Julianne's arm, opened the door, and propelled her daughter inside. She then followed like a ship under full sail. As she proclaimed in a singsong voice, "Here is the bride-to-be, Madame," she closed the door in Gideon's face.

  Gideon glared at the oak panel with enough heat to set it ablaze. Then he pulled in a deep, calming breath and set about his business. After giving Caesar a brief respite outdoors, Gideon entered the library. Crossing the fancy carpet, he grasped the back of a chair and carried it with him, setting it close to the wall. Then he turned the knob of the adjoining door and cracked it open. A French-accented feminine voice drifted through the crack "Zee gown, eet is perfection."

  Satisfied, he settled in his chair, Caesar at his feet. Princess Buttercup jumped onto his lap and, after turning in several circles, found a comfortable spot and snuggled in. With his fingers lightly petting the small dog, Gideon leaned closer to the door to listen. And wait.

  Two hours later, during which time the weather had been discussed at length and the countess had plied Madame Renee with countless questions regarding her exclusive clientele, the dressmaker and her seamstress finally took their leave. To which Gideon could only say thank God. A soft knock sounded on the cracked door, and it was pushed slowly open. Julianne stuck her head through the opening and offered him a rueful smile.

  "You managed to remain awake through all that?" she asked.

  "I did," he said. Barely, which he didn't add. He glanced down at the tiny dog asleep on his lap. "Princess Buttercup, however, isn't made of such stern stuff."

  "That's why she's named Princess Buttercup, as opposed to Captain Canonball."

  "I see. What is next on your agenda for today?"

  Before she could answer, the door leading from the corridor opened, and the countess entered. "Lords Penniwick, Beechmore, and Walston are here to see you," she said to Julianne, completely ignoring Gideon, who scooped up Princess Buttercup and stood.

  Julianne frowned. "Me? Whatever for?"

  Annoyance flashed in the countess's eyes, eyes Gideon noticed were the same stunning blue as Julianne's. But her mother's lacked warmth and kindness and any hint of vulnerability-all the things that made Julianne's eyes so extraordinary.

  "They are suitors, Julianne," the countess said, her voice laced with impatience. "Naturally they're going to call upon you."

  "Even though I'm to marry the duke?" Hope flared in her expression. "Or am I not to marry him?"

  "Of course you're going to marry the duke. However, until the papers are signed and the formal announcement is made at our party next week, the other suitors are not to be discouraged." A cunning look settled over the countess's features. "It is good for His Grace to know that other gentlemen remain interested. And besides, if some tragedy were to befall the duke before the final arrangements were in place, we wouldn't want to have discouraged all the other suitors prematurely."

  In spite of the fact that Gideon could easily name a number of tragedies he wouldn't mind befalling the duke, his stomach turned at the cold, dispassionate sentiment behind the countess's words.

  The countess turned to Gideon. "I can see by your expression that you think to be present during Julianne's visit with her suitors."

  "Yes. Especially since one of those suitors could be the man we're looking for."

  The countess looked affronted. "Ridiculous. They're gentlemen. And I'll not have you interfering."

  Gideon's gaze pierced hers. "And I'll not have anyone preventing me from doing the job I was hired to do. Clearly you need to be reminded, Countess, that if any harm comes to Lady Julianne, there won't be a wedding at all. To anyone."

  The countess looked as if she wished to argue further but instead said, "Although I'd planned to use the drawing room, I suppose I can have the gentlemen shown into my sitting room next door. You may remain here, out of sight, and keep the adjoining door ajar as you did earlier. I will remain with Julianne throughout the visit." She raised her chin. "And that will simply have to do, Mr. Mayne."

  Gideon's gaze didn't waver. "Only on the condition that Caesar remain in the sitting room, next to Lady Julianne, throughout the visit."

  The countess shot Caesar a dubious look but acquiesced. "Very well. Come along, Julianne."

  They entered the sitting room through the adjoining door, and Gideon followed with Caesar. After giving the dog instructions to guard, he returned to his chair in the library. A moment later, Winslow announced the three gentlemen. After the initial pleasantries were exchanged, one of the men, whose voice Gideon recognized as belonging to Penniwick, said, "I say, Lady Julianne, that's quite a large dog you have there." A nervous laugh. "He looks capable of biting off a limb or two."

  "He's actually capable of ripping out one's throat," Julianne said, sounding so cheerful Gideon had to smile. "We thought it best to have some extra protection, given the rash of crimes lately, didn't we, Mother?"

  "Oh, um, yes." The countess adroitly changed the subject to the weather, and for the next quarter hour Gideon listened to blah, blah, weather, blah, blah, fox hunt, blah, blah, party. Good God. It was all so excruciatingly polite. So excruciatingly boring. No wonder Julianne chafed against the stringent class rules that confined her. He looked over at Princess Buttercup, asleep on a satin pillow near the fireplace, oblivious to all the blah, blah. That was one damn lucky dog.

  Just when he thought he would have to endure more meaningless blather, Julianne asked, "What do you gentlemen think of these dreadful murders and robberies? Have you any theories as to who might be responsible?"

  Gideon moved quickly and applied his eye to the crack in the door. All three gentlemen looked surprised at the question. Penniwick, Gideon noted, appeared… fidgety?

  "Really, Julianne," the countess said with a false-sounding laugh. "No one wants to discuss such unpleasantness."

  "I don't mind," Beechmore said, making Gideon wonder if he was also deathly bored of speaking of the weather. "Obviously the culprit is a very clever fellow not to have been caught so far."

  "He's a fool, if you ask me," said Lord Walston. "Surely he must know he'll get caught eventually."

  "Not if he's careful," said Penniwick in a brusque voice.

  "No clues have been found, no suspects named."

  "Perhaps there have been clues found that the authorities haven't reported," Julianne said.

  Gideon watched all three men's reactions. Beechmore seem surprised, Walston confused, and Penniwick again fidgeted.

  "That's enough of such a dreadful subject," the countess broke in with an exaggerated shudder, shooting her daughter a warning look. "Would you gentlemen like tea?"

  They refused, and a few moments later took their leave. As the countess showed them out, Julianne approached the adjoining door. "Did you glean anything from their reactions when I mentioned the murders?"

  "Perhaps. That was clever of you."

  "I'm not the nincompoop everyone seems to think I am."

  "I've never thought you were a nincompoop." His lips twitched. "I thought you were a spoiled princess."

  A grin lurked around her lips. "Yes, I know. Although you'd best be careful, as such flowery words might swell my head."

  "I said I thought you were a spoiled princess. I no longer do."

  Although it looked as if she wanted to question him, she merely murmured, "I'm glad."

  Just then the countess sailed across the threshold and fixed her angry gaze on her daughter. "Really, Julianne, you are such a trial. Why on earth would you bring up the murders?"

  "I thought it would be helpful to Mr. Mayne to hear how the gentlemen responded."

  "And it was helpful," Gideon added. "Thank you, Lady Julianne."

  "Well, I won't have it. Lord Haverly is here, and there
will be no talk of murders or robberies during his visit. He's brought that American, Mr. Jennsen, with him. I suppose we'll have to entertain him as well, although why he's here, I cannot imagine. He certainly couldn't think himself in any way suitable for an earl's daughter."

  With that, the countess swept back into the sitting room with an imperious, "Come along, Julianne."

  Gideon watched through the crack in the door for the duration of Haverly's and Jennsen's mercifully brief visit. Jennsen didn't say much, and Gideon found himself very curious as to why the American was here. And with Haverly. His curiosity was satisfied within moments of their departure from the sitting room. Gideon planned to wait in the library until Haverly and Jennsen left, but a moment later, a knock sounded. At his bid to enter, Winslow entered.

  "Mr. Jennsen would like to see you. Shall I send him in?"

  "Please. But first, where is Lady Julianne?"

  "The dining room, with the countess, for their midday meal. Caesar is with them."

  Gideon nodded. Jennsen entered a moment later and crossed the room to extend his hand to Gideon. "I waited for Haverly to leave before I asked to see you," Jennsen said.

  "I know you arrived together. I didn't realize you two were friends."

  "We're not. However, I've learned that it's useful to remain close to those you are suspicious of."

  "Why are you suspicious of Haverly?"

  "I simply added one plus one and arrived at two. It was his snuffbox you found beneath the window at Daltry's party. Less than twenty-four hours later, Lady Daltry was discovered robbed and murdered. Which makes me believe the snuffbox, and therefore its owner, could somehow be involved in your investigation. Unfortunately, I didn't learn anything of interest from Haverly, but I intend to keep at it."

  "While I appreciate your efforts, I prefer not to involve outsiders in my work. Especially as it could be dangerous."

  Jennsen nodded. "Understood. And a very noble sentiment. But you are going to have to set it aside in this case, as I'm not letting go of this. In fact, what I've come to tell you is that I spent the morning in a meeting with Lords Surbrooke and Langston. As you can imagine, both are very concerned for their wives' safety, as well as Lady Julianne's. The three of us are therefore offering our services to you."