Dear Impostor (53 page)

          Sighing, he looked outside the carriage. They
had made the main road and had turned north toward London. Within a few hours,
they would be back in the city, and he would have to come up with a way to
dispose of Barrett once and for all, convince the old villain to call off his
hired gang and settle this man to man. Unfortunately, he had not the glimmer of
an idea how this was to be accomplished. But he must think of something!

          “Gabriel!” Psyche exclaimed.

          A moment later, he saw what had caused her
cry, and he called to the coachman to pull up the team. When the carriage
rolled to a stop, Gabriel opened the door and jumped out, and Psyche leaned her
head outside the vehicle to see what was going on.

          The sight that had brought them to a halt was
alarming enough. The sporty curricle that partially blocked the road had lost
one of its wheels and now tilted at an alarming angle toward the ditch at the
side. Two horses stood amid the tangled traces, one shaking its head, the other
whinnying softly; the animals seemed unharmed. As for the solitary
occupant–now, Gabriel understood Psyche’s perturbation.

          “Why, Cousin Percy,” Gabriel drawled. “What on
earth are you doing here?”

          The rotund figure jumped up; Psyche’s relative
had been sitting on the side of the road, perhaps contemplating his next move. “Cousin,”
Percy exclaimed in relief, staring at Psyche and ignoring Gabriel’s comment. “I
am relieved to see you well.”

          “I am quite well, thank you,” Psyche answered.
“You, however, do not seem to be so lucky. What are you doing here?”

          “I came to assist you, of course. After you
left town in such a precipitous fashion, I feared the worse!” Percy turned to
glare at Gabriel, and his meaning was obvious.

          Psyche sighed. “No, I have not been abducted,
Percy. And how did you manage to upset your curricle?”

          “It was not my fault,” Percy protested. “A
rabbit jumped out of the hedgerow, and my near horse shied–it could have
happened to anyone.”

          “No doubt,” Gabriel said, his tone dry. “And
you didn’t even bother to bring a groom with you?” The groom’s seat on the
skewed carriage was empty, as they could all see. “Or did you send him to get
help?”

          “No, of course I came alone. I did not want to
broadcast the news of my cousin’s sad disregard for the proprieties to the
world! To go off alone with a man–” Percy’s face flushed, and he seemed
prepared to prose on forever.

          “A man who happens to be my fiancé!” Psyche
cut him off without ceremony. “Percy, neither my reputation nor my person needs
your protection. You have no claim on me! How many times do I have to tell you
that?”

          “Until you wake from this sad infatuation,
your comments are hardly to be trusted,” Percy said, his tone stiff.

          Psyche drew a deep breath, but Percy had
turned to face Gabriel. “I should ask you to take me up to your estate, if you
would, sir. I understand it is only a few miles from here.”

          Gabriel glanced at the man in surprise. It was
true that the estate he had won from Barrett lay just ahead, but– “How did you
know that?” he demanded, suspicion raising the hair along the back of his neck.

          “Aunt Sophia told me, after I demanded your
destination,” Percy admitted, looking complacent. “I could hardly let Psyche go
off like this without coming to protect her good name, if nothing else.”

          He must have hounded the poor woman
unmercifully, and her aunt must have been distressed enough by their sudden
flight to have let the information slip, Psyche thought. Poor Aunt Sophie!

          “My good name will be just fine, if you can
keep your mouth shut,” Psyche told him. “And remember, any scandal touching me
will also reflect on yourself, Percy. I know how strongly you and your father
feel about family honor.”

          “Didn’t I just say that that is why I came?”
Percy pulled himself up to his full height, bringing him almost to Gabriel’s
shoulder. “And having come this far only to support you, Cousin, I think a
little assistance on your part is not too much to ask.”

          Gabriel glanced at Psyche. “I’m afraid you
don’t understand. I’m not refusing you hospitality, but the estate is in ruins;
it has nothing to offer you. There is a small inn in the next village–”

          ”Do you think I could be seen in a public
hostelry looking like this?” His tone outraged, Percy gestured to a small rip
in his elegant sleeve and a slight sprinkling of dust on his pantaloons.

          “But Percy, the house is empty; there is no
housekeeper to repair your coat or dust off your garments,” Psyche tried to
help. “Truly–”

          ”I cannot believe you would refuse such a
simple request!” Percy folded his arms, the picture of affronted obstinacy.

          “This is a waste of breath,” Gabriel said. “He
will not stop talking long enough to listen. Perhaps we should indeed stop at
my–um–estate and show him its condition. We could at least leave his horses
there till we can send someone from the village to reclaim them.”

          “Is it safe?” Psyche whispered.

          “I should think the ruffians would have given
up by now; they have no reason to think we will return,” he pointed out.

          Psyche nodded. “Very well, Percy, We shall
take you to Gabriel’s property, and then on to the village where you can see
about getting your wheel repaired.”

          Above all, she did not want him sharing the
chaise with them all the way back to London; the thought of listening to Percy
prose on, full of recriminations for her unmaidenly conduct, was enough to make
her shudder. And she and Gabriel had so little time left; she knew he was still
thinking of moving on; she could tell from the occasional moments of quiet when
he visibly withdrew into his thoughts, seemed even to forget her presence. No,
they must get rid of her obnoxious cousin as soon as possible.

          Gabriel and their driver managed to extract
Percy’s horses from the traces; one seemed whole, but the other limped badly;
both were tied to the back of their carriage. Then Percy stepped into the
chaise, taking the first seat where he fortunately faced the driver, with his
back to Psyche and Gabriel, who remained in the rear seat. This did not keep
Percy from looking over his shoulder and addressing them often, however. They
had to go at a very slow pace because of the injured horse; Psyche was most
glad to see the neglected driveway of Gabriel’s property soon come into view. The
driver turned the team, and the carriage rolled along through the narrow
driveway, pulling up in front of the house.

          It really had lovely lines, Psyche thought,
imagining the house refurbished. If it were reclaimed from its neglect, it
would be a most handsome dwelling. She lost herself in thoughts of new paint
and wallpapers while the men got out of the carriage.

          “Cousin,” Percy called to her, holding out his
hand to assist her.

          She had not meant to leave the carriage,
knowing their stop was to be brief, but it was easier to get out than to argue
with Percy. She took his hand as briefly as possible and stepped quickly down
to the weedy gravel.

          “There, you see,” she told her cousin. “We
have no staff here to make you comfortable. We will leave your team here and go
on to the village. It is a small place, and no one will remark upon your torn
coat.”

          Percy climbed the steps and peered inside the
open doorway. “If that is the case, what were you doing here, Psyche? You did
not stay here–alone–last night?” He sounded horrified.

          Psyche bit back a groan, and Gabriel frowned. “We
did not stay the night here,” he said, his tone sharp. “We visited a relative
of mine, and we were suitably chaperoned.”

          Well, as to that, Psyche bit back a grin, but
she must not allow Percy to see her amusement. “Come along, Percy,” she said. Really,
her cousin was too provoking. Now he had wandered into the house, as if
searching for some evidence of a secret love nest. She walked after him,
determined to get him back in the carriage and head to the village, so they
could be rid of his irksome company as soon as possible.

          Gabriel was still frowning, something was not
right. Why did Percy seem so determined to inspect Gabriel’s ruin of an estate?
Was it just another bit of evidence to convince Psyche to give up her
engagement to a man her cousin, with an unusual moment of perception, was
convinced was a scoundrel? So be it; Gabriel knew that Percy, for all his
inanities, was quite right about this judgment.

          What were they doing, lingering inside the
moldy hall? “Psyche,” Gabriel called. “Are you ready to leave?”

          He heard her exclaim, then Percy mutter a
soothing word. Gabriel headed quickly up the steps. More mice? He walked
through the doorway into the dimness of the hall, and before his eyes could
adjust, he felt strong hands grab him from behind.

          “Ah,” a familiar voice purred. “Just as I
hoped. Welcome to my estate, Lord Impostor.”

          He was a fool, more than a fool.

          Gabriel felt the awareness of danger pour over
him, bringing his muscles taut and his nerves on edge, but it was too late. Barrett
stood with a small pistol pointed his way as one of Barrett’s hired killers
pulled Gabriel’s arms together and tied his wrists with stout rope. Another
ruffian held his hand over Psyche’s lips; behind his grimy fingers, her face
was pale with shock and fear. Percy looked merely smug.

          Percy! Damn the coward, he had somehow joined
with Barrett to lure them here. Damn himself for being lulled by Percy’s
impotent idiocy into believing him harmless. If they lived through this–which
was most doubtful–Gabriel swore to himself that he would have Percy’s head on a
silver platter.

          Psyche bit the hand which had prevented her
from giving Gabriel any warning. The man who held her swore and waved his
injured finger in the air. Psyche stared at her cousin in disbelief. “Percy,
who could you? How did you even know–”

          ”Barrett came to me, explained,” Percy said,
his tone just as pompous as usual. “Since I wanted to rid you of your
entanglement with this scoundrel, and since Barrett was able to tell me even
more about his misdeeds–”

          ”Misdeeds?” Psyche’s voice trembled with
outrage. “This man has tried to murder us more than once. Don’t talk to me
about misdeeds! How could you strike a bargain with him, Percy?”

          “I wanted Tarrington out of the way,” Percy
said simply. “I know it is a shock to your feminine sensibilities just now,
Cousin, but in time you will come to see the wisdom of my actions, and you will
thank me for it.”

          Did he really believe this claptrap? Psyche
stared at her cousin with horror, not sure she had ever really seen him before.
He met her gaze calmly, his self-satisfaction unblemished. But he had always
been selfish, had always thought only of himself, his wishes, his desires, and
never of hers. Why should this betrayal be such a surprise? Percy might be too
squeamish to murder with his own hand, but if someone else would do it for him–

          “I will detest you for the rest of my life,”
Psyche told him, steadying her voice with great effort. “No matter how long or
how short that may be. And I will never, ever, consider marriage with you, not
if I die a spinster ten times over.”

          Percy shrugged. “You will change your mind,”
he said, his confidence undaunted. “Females do.”

          “Percy!” Psyche glared at him. “You have been
duped.”

          He sniffed.

          “What makes you think you will be allowed to
live long enough to pursue this noble plan?” Gabriel asked the other man,
keeping his voice low. Barrett had crossed to the other side of the room and
was conferring with his two hired killers. “You really think that Barrett will
leave any witnesses alive after he has disposed of me?”

          Percy blinked; the idiot had apparently never
considered this possibility.

          “He wouldn’t.” Percy’s smile faded just a
little. “I agreed that I would say nothing–”

          ”And do you have any conception of the danger
to which you have exposed Psyche?” Gabriel felt both disdain for Percy’s
stupidity and fear for Psyche, and the fear threatened to slow his thoughts. No,
he must not panic; he needed all his wits about him.

          Percy pursed his thick lips as if he mulled
over Gabriel’s words. Psyche glanced toward Gabriel, looking anxious.

          “Do you see anything about with a sharp edge?”
he whispered, testing the bonds that held his wrists immobile. The rope was new
and stout, and he pulled against it without result. She glanced around the
room, but only curls of dust and a few splinters of wood littered the floor, no
handy knife revealed itself. The small dagger he had confiscated at the
masquerade was tucked inside his coat, but he had no way to reach it, nor could
Psyche, without the others seeing.