The Hopeless Hoyden (24 page)

             
“There was no reason to think the girl would not be right back," Lady Raines concluded for the blushing Miss Taber.

             
Freddy, coughing into his hand, leaned toward Gabriel.  “Means they thought she went to--"

             
“Exactly!" huffed Lady Raines, spearing the baron with a baleful eye.

             
“But she did not," Aunt Esmeralda continued. “At least, no one saw her.  And we hunted everywhere.  Emily should have said something before going off like that."  The old woman brought the hanky up to her red nose.  “Just like her, too, the unnatural gel."

             
“There you're out, Aunt Esmeralda."  Tom blurted out.  Gabriel saw the young man's eyes mirrored his own growing sense of dread when Tom turned to him.  “It ain't like Em to lop off and leave Marabell, Lindemann."

             
Gabriel nodded his understanding and asked the ladies, “Where is Emily's horse?"              

             
“Why, the White Lion," answered Lady Spivey, “where we lunched."

             
“Did anyone notify the magistrate?"  Gabriel's voice was deadly calm.

             
“Of course, we did," said Deborah, giving her brother a barely perceptible nod of her head.

             
Gabriel saw Cecil acknowledge his sister's answer with an uncharacteristic smile.  “You did the right thing, my dear," Cecil drawled, then turned his dark eyes on Gabriel.  “Sir Russells is the magistrate, Cuz, and reputed to be an excellent man.  There really is nothing to do but wait for Russells to report back."

             
“Like hell!" growled Gabriel, barely holding himself in check.  His hands balled into tight fists.  It would accomplish little at this point to kill his cousin.  That he would do after he found Emily.

*** Chapter 11 ***

             
By Gabriel's calculations, Emily had been missing five hours now, and he was fast losing his temper with this gaggle of females.  Lady Raines and Sylvia could only complain about the inconvenience that Emily’s disappearance caused them while Lady Spivey and her goddaughter sat on the settee, uselessly wringing their hands.  The only sensible one out of the bunch was Jane Taber.  She, at least, seemed genuinely concerned about his wood sprite.   And blast it all, when he thought about Deborah's sly look to Cecil, his gut told him to closely question her. 

             
But he knew that would prove fruitless.  He wouldn't be particularly concerned if the circumstances were different.  But with the attack on Emily's life at Hailes Abbey, he worried that her disappearance meant that something ominous had occurred. 

             
Deciding he could stand these people no longer, Gabriel marched for the door.

             
“Where're you going, Lindemann?" Chesterfield called after him.

             
“To Winchcombe," Gabriel threw over his shoulder as he stalked out the room with Tom was on his heels.

             
“Hold on,” Freddy bellowed.  “I’m going, too.  Chit’s a friend of mine, you know,” he said to the room at large before making a dash for the door.

###

              There was that noise again.  Sitting on the floor, Emily gathered her skirts more tightly about her legs, then shuffled her feet noisily on the earthen floor.  Her eyes squinted, trying to pierce the oppressive blackness.   Rats frightened her.  She loathed the nasty rodents and didn't know what she would do if one were to touch her.  With that horrid thought, a violent shudder shook her body.

             
She'd lost count of time.  It was impossible to tell if it were still day or night.  In the hours since Deborah had locked her in the stone building, Emily had pounded on the door and screamed for help until her voice gave out.  Then, she'd stood for a long time with her back to the rough door, hoping her eyes would penetrate the blackness.  Finally, with bruised hands, she forced herself to feel her way around the perimeter of the room.               

             
Though the cool dampness of the limestone blocks helped to ease the soreness of her palms, she'd cringed every time her fingers sunk into sticky spider webs and grimy pockets of dirt embedded in the pitted walls.  She'd hoped to find another door or window.  Instead, thoroughly chilled and frightened, she came full circle.  Then, leaning against the door, she slid down onto the earthen floor to sit and await rescue.

             
Rescue had to come.  And she knew it would be Gabriel who would find her.  She trusted her knight in shining armor.  He would scour the area for her.  Still, doubts assailed her.  Could he find her here, locked in a small back alley shed?  She prayed he wouldn't quit or give up hope of finding her.  Otherwise, she'd surely perish, if not from hunger and thirst, then from the cold and fright that seeped deeper into her bones.

             
And of course, there were always the rats.

             
Another shudder shook her frame.  In her mind's eye, she envisioned the ugly rodents lined up in front of her, their razor teeth ready to tear into her flesh.  Within the cloying blackness of her prison, the sharp sound of tiny claws clicking on stone brought her back to reality--a reality all too like her nightmarish vision--and she screamed.  But she hardly recognized the weak croak she emitted that barely pierced the gloom, a weak croak that did nothing to scare away the vile creatures. 

             
She heard the hairy creatures moving in the darkness somewhere near by.  In a hoarse whisper, she cried out again, drawing her knees up to her chest and tightly wrapping her arms around them.  She rested her head on top of them.  What did it matter if she'd lost her voice?  There was no one to hear her.  She feared her mind had snapped and was playing tricks on her.  She heard Gabriel's voice, sounding a long way off, calling her name.  But she knew it was only a dream--just like earlier.  Tears came to her eyes.  If only it were so. . . .

             
She heard it again, louder this time!  She wasn't imagining it.  She tried scrambling to her feet but couldn't.  Her limbs were too stiff, numb with cold, and her bruised fingers didn't want to bend.  She ignored the rats' mad shuffling as she pumped her feet on the earthen floor, forcing feeling back into them.  Her legs tingled painfully as blood surged through them.  She had to get up before Gabriel left!               

             
Reaching above her head, Emily groped for the wooden knob.  Then, she used it to pull herself to a standing position. 

             
“Emily.  Emily, where are you?" 

             
“Over here," she cried.  He was so near, yet she could barely speak above a whisper.  He'd never hear her.               

             
“Emily."

             
His voice was fading!  Hysterically, she pounded on the door.  Excruciating pain shot up her arms each time her already tender hands hit the wood, forcing her to cease her efforts.  She ignored the hot tears coursing down her cheeks as she savagely kicked the door.

             
“Emily, Emily, is that you?"  He was on the other side of the door!

             
“Gab," she whispered hoarsely, “please help me." 

             
“Emily, I’m here.  Stand back now."

             
But she couldn’t move, frozen with fear of stepping on a rat!

             
There was the sound of wood scraping wood, and the door flew open, striking her.  She stumbled backwards, but before Emily could fall, Gabriel's arms were around her, holding, cuddling, warming her.  Feverishly, she clutched at him, afraid to let go, laughing and crying, as tears drenched her cheeks.  Only when Gabriel's lips covered hers did she feel completely safe, protected by her knight.

             
Moments later, Gabriel carried Emily out into the street.  He held her close, kissing her hair, her eyes, her nose.  Then, he held her that much tighter as tears of relief stung his own eyes.  He was nearly beside himself with worry as he took in the state of his brave wood sprite, sobbing incoherently.  The only words he understood her to say were "rats" and "cold".               

             
“Hey, Gab, where are you?" 

             
Through the darkness, Gabriel saw Freddy lift his lantern at the top of the lane and Ellison trailing behind him.  Hours earlier at the White Lion, Gabriel and his friends had split up.  Freddy and Ellison had searched the lower side of Winchcombe with him while Tom and Chesterfield scoured the town's business area. 

             
Cecil had stayed at the Park to await word from the magistrate.  Or so he claimed.  Which was fortunate, Gabriel realized as a murderous rage consumed him at the thought of his perfidious cousins.

             
“Can you stand?” Gabriel asked Emily.  When she nodded, he slowly eased her feet to the ground.  Then, managing to keep one arm around Emily, Gabriel shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around her shivering form.  He handled her like delicate porcelain, lifting her up in his arms again. 

             
She didn't protest.  Instead, her arms circled his neck, and she turned her face into his shoulder, muffling her cries.  By Jove, Gabriel swore to himself, he'd see whoever was responsible for this ugly piece of work paid dearly!

             
Gabriel sent Freddy and Ellison back to the White Lion for their horses and to notify Tom and Chesterfield that they'd found Emily.  While waiting for their return, he managed to get a fairly coherent account from Emily about how she came to be imprisoned in the stone shed.  He was troubled though, for while Deborah's guilt was obvious, Cecil could still claim ignorance of any complicity. 

             
Reluctantly, he decided against making any accusations just yet.  That could come later when he was assured of Emily's safety.   He hid his anger as the rescuers rode back to the Park.  Emily, sitting across the front of the saddle, was nestled against his chest as he constantly reassured her.

             
“You have my word, Emily.  I'll protect you.  But you must trust me.  I can't accuse Deborah just yet."  When she didn't respond, he gave her a gentle squeeze.  “For now, you've nothing more to fear.  You've my solemn promise."   To himself, he vowed not to leave her alone again.

             
When they reached the Park, Gabriel carried Emily straight to her room.  The fact that his vivacious wood sprite did not cavil over his cavalier treatment unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

             
The group waiting in the drawing room heard the story Gabriel had concocted for Chesterfield and Freddy--Emily had “accidentally" locked herself in the shed.  No one gainsaid the tale, and Lady Raines's and Sylvia immediately seized it to add to their complaints about the hopeless hoyden. 

             
Fortunately for them, Gabriel was too preoccupied caring for Emily and sending for Doc Larson to react to the ladies' spiteful tongues.  He refused to leave Emily's bedside but stroked her brow, appalled at how the stark whiteness of her face nearly blended with the pillow casings.

             
“I must protest, milord, for this is unseemly," Aunt Esmeralda said.  She had followed Gabriel up the stairs to Emily's room and stood over her bed.

             
“Then leave," Gabriel barked.  He'd long since lost patience with the dithering old woman.                “Excuse me, milord."  Jane stood at the open doorway to Emily’s bedroom.  “The doctor will be here soon.  It would save time if Miss Pendleton were in her night clothes.  Perhaps Lady Spivey and I could assist Emily."

             
Gabriel read the concern in Miss Taber's eyes and nodded his consent.  Passing by her to go out into the hall, he stopped and said, “Lady Spivey is not to ply Emily with questions, Jane.  Emily has had a terrible fright and should not be reminded of it."

             
“You need not worry, my lord.  I will see that Emily is not disturbed."  Jane's reply conveyed much more than an acknowledgement of his order, and Gabriel wondered just what the quiet young lady might know.

             
Doc Larson arrived and grimly listened to Gabriel's tale.

             
“Comes as no surprise, you know," the physician said, fixing a sapient eye on the Viscount.  “The gel's been gadding about after her brothers ever since her mother died of a putrid fever.  Just a wee mite she was.  Bound to get into a scrape like this sooner or later."  Then, he hustled everyone out of the room but Jane to begin his examination of the patient.               

             
Gabriel escorted Lady Spivey downstairs, then retuned to pace the corridor to and fro outside Emily's door.  Though her injuries appeared superficial, bruised hands bloodied by splinters, he feared more for her mental state.  He could not envision a worst sight than when he'd found his valiant love, reduced to hysterical tears.