Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (47 page)

158

Pickpocket Countess

would have his protection when he returned to the estate. She believed it so thoroughly she had made free with his chambers, shedding her damp clothing and curling up before his fire in anticipation of the forthcoming conversation.

What was she

At what point had her wits become

so addled that she'd started thinking the Earl of Stockport was her ally? In reality, there was nothing to stop Stockport from returning to St John's and leading the company straight to her.

After all, he'd told her where to be. It made sense that he was setting her up so he could capture her. Arresting The Cat in front of the people to whom her arrest mattered most would be a feather in his cap. Such an act would go far to restore his damaged credibility over the factory.

As if her doubts had suddenly sprung to life and assumed human form, voices rose from the vestibule downstairs. Stockport had

bringing with him unlooked-for companions.

Her fears were realised and about to be played out. Being here in Stockport's home was the real trap. The dinner party had merely been foreplay to the true betrayal. Nora's heart plummeted at the sting of it all. She could imagine Stockport telling everyone how he had lulled The Cat into complacency, weaving his own web of deceit around The Cat and fooling her into believing she had the upper hand.

The voices grew strident and Nora detected the seeds of an argument rising between the new

voice

rose in protest. He didn't need any further assistance and the men were free to return to their evening. The others with him countered that it might be unsafe to leave him alone while The Cat ran free in the countryside. One of them, probably Witherspoon, suggested a search of the house. Stockport protested again. Nora grinned to herself. Maybe Stockport hadn't told them everything after all. She would wager the contents of the jewel bag she'd collected that night he hadn't told them The Cat was a woman.

Scott

159

The knowledge that he had most likely withheld some information didn't exonerate him from the betrayal he'd wrought by bringing the men here, but it did serve to harden her heart.

Brandon had

this night and hc was

damn well going to give it to her even if she had to drag it from him in the most compromising of manners.

Nora looked down at the fine paisley silk of Brandon's robe and suppressed a laugh. He thought to show them The Cat, dressed in dark trousers and shirt. He could let Witherspoon and the others search the house. They wouldn't find The Cat of Manchester in residence. Neither would they find anyone hiding away timidly awaiting discovery.

Nora tossed her hair once, giving it a sleep-rumpled look.

Feigning wide-eyed innocence, she marched to the top of the stairs, ready to do battle with Witherspoon, Brandon and whatever else fate decreed to throw in her path.

Thirteen

what happened to you?' The siren on the stairs gushed with concern, causing Brandon and the five men with him to stop their conversation in mid-sentence and gaze slack jawed at the vision draped in a man's dressing gown at the top of the landing.

'Your clothes are ruined and your hand-why, you're wounded! The dark-haired angel managed a feminine gasp of horror and began descending the steps, leaving no ambiguity as to the status of her undress beneath the robe.

Brandon watched her performance in a state of consciousness that hovered somewhere between thoroughly amused and utterly horrified. She was magnificent, so boldly taking them all by surprise. He'd been

his mind, trying to think of

a way to be rid of the men who had insisted on following him home. He'd been unsuccessful. Dismissing them and their offers to search the house for the sake of his safety had proved too difficult to thwart without looking like a graceless cad.

From the look of things, he need not have worried. Nora had it all well in hand with her tousled hair and wide eyes.

'My lord. . . ' Witherspoon sputtered incoherently, to

him for an explanation of the woman's presence. Witherspoon might be maliciously ruthless, but he was also a prude.

Scott

161

Nora reached his side and put a possessive hand on his sleeve. 'I have discomfited you. I must apologise. I thought Brandon would have told everyone by