What an Earl Wants (18 page)

“I never before realized my own grandmother hates me,” Gideon
muttered, once again turning his eyes away from temptation.

It was closer to a quarter hour before he and Jessica were
heading down the curved staircase, thanks to Jessica’s “rats’ nest,” but they
were nearly to the door before Kate hailed them from the top of the stairs.

“What’s she done this time?” Lady Katherine asked as she
bounded down the stairs with an energetic lack of caution that could have
brought anyone else to grief. But not Kate. She never made a misstep, never gave
a thought to decorum or, God help them all, her own safety. It was what he loved
about her and why he worried so much about her. She was too damn much of a man
for a woman. Somehow she’d lost any soft feminine side she’d ever had,
preferring to act and be treated as if she was fourth and youngest Redgrave
son.

He gave a moment’s thought to his sister’s question, and the
fact that his grandmother had been
entertaining
the
Marquis of Mellis. What if she wasn’t as deft as she believed herself to be?
What if she’d slipped, or become angry with something he’d revealed to her? What
if— “You’re not going with us, Kate.”

She ignored him as if he’d said nothing, brushing past him and
through the open doorway to the foggy, damp street beyond. She’d climbed into
the coach, taking the rear-facing seat, and was buttoning the last few buttons
of the jacket to her riding habit as Gideon and Jessica entered and the coach
jolted forward.

“Trixie’s her grandmother, too, Gideon,” Jessica said, as if
he’d forgotten. “Stop glaring at her.”

“He’s glaring? Just think, all these years I thought that was
his usual face.”

Jessica laughed but then slipped her hand into his as the coach
turned out of the Square. “Trixie always lands on her feet, Gideon. I don’t know
her well, but I’m certain of that much.”

He squeezed her hand in return. “I never should have started
this.”

“Never should have started what?” Kate asked him. “And before
you open your mouth, remember, I’m not a child.”

“Another time,” he said evasively, grabbing the strap as the
coachman made the last turn into Cavendish Square. They’d accomplished the drive
in a quarter of the time it would have taken them during the day, with only a
few drays and delivery wagons sharing the streets with them. “Let’s just see
what we’re facing.”

“All right. But you might want to do something about that rose
petal clinging to your left cheek, brother mine.”

Gideon raised his hand to brush away the petal. “There’s
nothing there.”

“No. But Jessica’s women spoke with my Sally, so I know there
could have been. You’ve just confirmed that for me. Thank you.”

“Pernicious brat,” Gideon commented as Jessica bent her head,
hiding her face and, most probably, her flaming cheeks.

The door to the dowager countess’s mansion was opened the
moment the coach came to a halt, a wedge of yellowed light cutting through the
fog. Gideon bustled the two women out of the coach and quickly hurried them into
the foyer.

“Soames?”

The butler inclined his head. “Your lordship, Lady Katherine.
Mrs. Linden.”

“No, my countess,” Gideon corrected, looking at the large
standing clock in one corner of the foyer, “for the past nearly nine hours. But
never mind that now. Where is she?”

“In her boudoir, my lord,” Soames said, his ears going crimson
as he shot glances at Jessica and Kate. Really, you’d think the man had passed
beyond blushing decades ago. “As is his lordship. You’re to go right up,
sir.”

“Remain here,” Gideon ordered the ladies. “Soames, make them
some tea or something.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Kate announced. “Jessica? Do you think
so?”

“I think you and I are going to be very good friends, Kate.
And, no, I don’t plan to remain down here.”

When had he lost control of his life, his air of consequence,
his ability to command? Gideon looked down at his clothing, as Soames was
looking at him rather strangely, to see that he may have buttoned his waistcoat,
but one of his shirttails was hanging loose beneath it. “Bloody hell. All right.
But if I tell you to leave, you leave. Understood?”

“Oh, definitely understood,” Jessica said...and then she did
the oddest thing. She
winked
at Kate.

“You’re wasting time, brother mine,” Kate reminded him. “I saw
the note. She wrote
now.
”

And so it was that the trio, all of them now Redgraves, mounted
the staircase together, turned and climbed another flight, following Soames, who
then pointed them toward the closed double doors to what had to be Trixie’s
bedchamber.

He then bowed and said, “Whatever it is we’re to do, it will be
done, sir. I’ve ordered the staff to remain in their quarters. I’ll be right
here, anticipating your orders.”

“Well, that was ominous,” Jessica whispered as the butler
backed away from the doors. “Go on, Gideon. Open it.”

The chamber, one he’d never before visited, was quite large and
fronted by an antechamber hung with red velvet draperies. Beyond it, the room
opened up considerably, which seemed a pity to him, as none of its furnishings
or colors appealed to him. Red, everywhere, red with touches of gold. Move the
chamber to Piccadilly, and it would, other than in its sheer size and the cost
of the fabrics and furnishings, become quite an inviting bordello. To see such a
room here, in the most straitlaced area of Mayfair, was something of a
shock.

There was a movement near the fireplace, and Trixie’s barefoot
legs appeared, searching for the floor as she uncurled herself from one of the
large upholstered chairs positioned there. “There you are,” she said, getting to
her feet, her midnight-blue velvet dressing gown tightly tied at her waist, a
glass of wine in her hand. “My goodness, are we having a party?” she asked,
appearing not at all upset that Gideon had not come here on his own. “Kate,
Jessica, how good to see you both. More heads to consult, I suppose.”

She employed the hand clutching the wineglass to gesture toward
the large, curtained bed. “Now, what do you propose we should do with
that?
”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“S
ON
OF
A
BITCH
. Bloody damn son of a bitch...”

Jessica shot a look to Trixie, who was pointedly inspecting the
perfectly buffed nails on her left hand, and approached the bed. She didn’t want
to look, but Gideon was looking, so she supposed she should be a supporting prop
for her husband to lean on, or some such thing.

After all, it was bad enough Kate had plunked herself down in
the facing chair halfway through her grandmother’s explanation, laughing so hard
she’d been forced to clutch her arms about her waist as she rocked back and
forth in the chair, fighting a bout of hiccups.
Shy
and
missish
were not words one could ever think to
use to describe Lady Katherine Redgrave.

They’d been talking, the marquis and Trixie, nattering of this
and that over the late supper Soames had set out, the remains of which were
still in evidence. Speaking of this and that, she’d said again, adding as she
looked pointedly to Gideon, “And perhaps a few other things.”

She’d thought to tease, flattering the man by kicking off one
small slipper and running her silk-clad toes up and down his leg and...well,
there was travel involved, and that would be all she’d say. That distraction had
done wonders at loosening the man’s tongue.

There came a moment, however, only a moment, when she may have
asked too pointed a question, or perhaps given too much away by dint of one of
her comments. In any event, the marquis made to leave, which of course he could
not do, not in his current mood, one that bordered on suspicion, of all silly
things. It was only practical that she...distract him.

The distraction had ended happily, albeit, for the marquis,
also permanently.

“He’s really dead?” Jessica asked, looking down at the
sheet-covered mound that had until recently been the Marquis of Mellis.

“Oh, yes, he’s dead,” Gideon grumbled. “There’s probably a lot
to be said for dogs and fires and snifters of brandy. At least after seventy.
Although, as exits go, I suppose it wouldn’t be all that terrible.”

“Excuse me?”

He looked at her and then blinked. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid my
mind was wandering. It’s not every day I see a naked nobleman in my
grandmother’s bed, alive or dead. In fact, I try not to think about Trixie’s bed
in any way or form.”

“I should certainly hope so.” Jessica leaned her head against
his upper arm. “He’s rather large, isn’t he? What are we going to do with
him?”

Kate, apparently at last recovered from her fit of giggles, was
beside them now, also looking down at the mounded sheet. “He can’t stay here. At
least not
precisely
here.” She reached for the edge
of the sheet. “Come on, you two, we’ll have to get him dressed.”

Gideon’s hand shot out, his fingers clamping around his
sister’s wrist. “There are times, Katherine, when I could cheerfully throttle
you. Downstairs. Now. All three of you. And send Soames in here.”

Jessica led the grinning Kate away, and, along with the dowager
duchess, they descended to the drawing room where, as they’d been informed by
Soames, tea and cakes awaited them.

Jessica was too concerned for Gideon to sit down, but once
Trixie had taken up her usual half-reclining position on the one-armed couch,
Kate dropped to the floor beside her, to ask, “What happened, Trixie? I mean,
what
really
happened? What first did you do when you
realized he’d cocked up his toes?”

Jessica was a matron now, a wife. She should be scolding her
sister-in-law for her questions, and searching out some spirits of hartshorn for
the dowager countess, as Trixie should by rights be having a fit of the vapors.
Since neither action appeared to be required, or indeed looked for, she decided
to take up one of the facing chairs and simply listen.

“Naughty puss,” Trixie said, patting Kate’s cheek. “I should be
terrified that you’re so like me, were I not so flattered. Now, as to your last
question? I didn’t notice. Not at first. I was much too occupied with wondering
if drinking those horrid Bath waters truly has some sort of medicinal or
restorative effect. I mean, the man was—well, not the man he used to be, surely,
but certainly no sluggard.”

Jessica looked down at her toes. There was nowhere else to
look, not really.

“He always roared like some great bear when he was— I really
shouldn’t be saying this, not to you two innocent girls. I must be more overset
than I imagined.”

“Gideon and Jessica married tonight, Trixie,” Kate supplied
helpfully. “From the way they were looking at each other when they went up to
bed at ten o’clock, I don’t think Jessica’s innocence should be a worry to
you.”

The dowager countess smiled in Jessica’s direction. “No grass
growing under my grandson’s feet, is there? I should have realized he wouldn’t
wait so much as another day. I’ll expect a grandchild within the year.” Then she
turned her attention back to Kate. “However, if you tell me you’re no innocent,
I’ll have the man’s name tonight and his ears on my mantel tomorrow.”

“I didn’t mean I’m not innocent, Trixie,” Kate protested. “I’m
simply not, well,
innocent.
Or do you forget who
raised me? Remember when I was ten, and I asked you about those statues lining
the staircase out there, and what those funny
things
were?”

Trixie shook her head. “Oh, I have so many sins to account
for...” But then she rallied, as if eager to be on with it. “Very well, where
was I?”

“There you go, Trixie. You’ll feel better for the telling, I’m
sure, you poor dear. Now, he was roaring...” Kate prompted, grinning at
Jessica.

“No, that wasn’t what I was saying. He was in the
habit
of roaring once brought to the, shall we say,
summit. Tonight it was rather more of a surprised
oh
and then nothing. He simply collapsed on top of me. So I noticed only when I
pointed out that, proud of himself as he might be, he was now crushing me and
would he please move—which, sadly, he did not do. I nearly exhausted my strength
until I could manage to extract myself from beneath him. I scribbled a note to
Gideon and have been imbibing this lovely wine ever since, which is the only
reason I’m running my tongue, which I shouldn’t be doing, although, after the
first time, you’d think I’d be less prone to hysterics.”

Jessica sat up very straight. “This has happened to you
before
tonight?”

“Oh, yes, this makes it twice now. But other than to
shamelessly trot after younger men, I see no escape from the possibility of a
third time. Save celibacy, of course, which is out of the question.”

“Of course,” Jessica agreed weakly. It occurred to her it was a
very good thing she wasn’t some sheltered debutante suddenly thrust into this
scandalous nest of Redgraves.

Kate rested her chin in her hand and looked adoringly up at her
grandmother. “I want to be like you. I never want to grow old.”

“We all grow old, pet,” Trixie told Kate, patting her cheek.
“Why else do you think I try so desperately to tell myself I’m still young?
Being old terrifies me, because each day brings me closer to the moment I have
to face my sins before my God. You don’t want that sort of terrible moment for
yourself, and I most certainly don’t wish it on you.” She took a steadying
breath. “And now I believe I’d very much like another glass of wine, to aid me
in maintaining my accustomed sangfroid.”

“I’ll see to it,” Jessica said when Kate looked at her, her
full bottom lip caught between her teeth, tears standing in her dark eyes.

A minute later there was some slight commotion on the other
side of the closed doors, and all three women looked in that direction. There
were a series of muffled bumps capped by a string of barely contained curses,
followed by the sound of footsteps, perhaps even the sounds of something being
dragged across the floor and, finally, the closing of a door.

“‘Good night, sweet prince; and flights of angels sing thee to
thy rest.’ As long as you’re no longer
resting
under
my roof.” Trixie raised her refilled glass in a salute, and then downed its
contents in one long, smooth glide. “I wonder what Gideon decided to do with
him? Oh, well, whatever it is, it won’t kill him. The marquis, I mean.”

An hour later, with Trixie now slumbering while almost politely
snoring beneath a cashmere shawl on the couch, Jessica and Kate had that answer
from Gideon.

“He’ll be discovered in his usual chair at his favorite club.
His coachman was most willing to accommodate my request for both his help and
the club’s direction, as he could see the inherent problems in explaining what
his master was doing in Cavendish Square.”

“So you told the coachie what the man was doing?” Kate asked,
yawning, as if the subject interested her still, but not enough to keep her
awake for much longer.

“Yes,” Gideon said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “He was
rather proud to hear it. They’ll keep the marquis in a small storeroom until the
club closes, and then trot him out to his chair, where he’ll be found in the
morning. Kept saying
good on him, the randy old bugger,
good on him—
the coachman kept saying that, I mean. I haven’t been
able to muster the same enthusiasm about Trixie. Are we going to leave her
here?”

Jessica got to her feet, pushing her hands against the small of
her back. One way or another, it had been a long night. Something to tell her
grandchildren, she supposed, although she doubted she ever would. “She says
she’s not going to sleep in that bed again, not until the entire thing has been
stripped away, mattress, hangings, everything. She’s also quite drunk, Gideon. I
imagine I would be, too.”

“Then we’ll learn nothing more here tonight, or should I say
this morning. It will soon be dawn. Ladies?”

“Oh, yes,” Kate said, jumping up. “I’m more than ready to get
back to Portman Square. Tomorrow is soon enough for you all to tell me more
about whatever the devil is going on here.”

“There’s nothing going on here.”

“So you say, Gideon. Silly me simply doesn’t believe that,”
Kate announced as she headed for the foyer.

Gideon and Jessica exchanged looks as they followed her.

“Just before she nodded off, your grandmother asked me to lean
down close so she could whisper in my ear. She said to tell you she’s learned a
few things, and that you’ll soon have your murderer.”

Gideon waited for Kate to be handed into the coach. “And Kate
overheard. The girl’s got ears like a bat. Wonderful. Now we’ll never be rid of
her.”

“I heard that,” Kate warned from inside the coach. “But you’re
probably right.”

“Damn it, Kate—”

“Not now, Gideon,” Jessica begged. “We’re all exhausted.”

He nodded his agreement, and helped her into the coach. They
were halfway back to Portman Square when Kate asked about the commotion they’d
heard outside the drawing room. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Gideon answered shortly. And then, a few moments
later, his shoulders began to shake. “We dropped him.”

Jessica looked at him in the dim light of the false dawn. He
was smiling. “You
dropped
him?”

“It wasn’t all that terrible. We’d tied him up in a sheet, and
partway down the stairs Soames lost his grip on his end.”

“Oh, Gideon,” Jessica said, her own lips twitching in
amusement. “How...um, how horrible.”

Gideon shrugged as if unconcerned, but the devil had crept into
his eyes. “I suppose we could have apologized, but the marquis didn’t seem to
mind.”

They were all three of them still laughing as the footman set
down the coach steps in Portman Square, Jessica going off into new peals of
exhausted mirth when she saw the clearly apprehensive look on the young man’s
face. “My goodness, Waters,” she managed to choke out, “you look as if you’ve
just seen a dead man.”

At that, she felt herself being swept up into Gideon’s arms as
he climbed the steps to the mansion and headed for the stairs. “Bed now, for all
of us,” he said, including Kate in this order.

“When do we go back to Cavendish Square?” Kate asked as she
actually pulled on the railing to help propel herself up the stairs.

“We don’t. You’re returning to Redgrave Manor.”

“Giddy,” she said, very nearly whined, “don’t make me badger
you. You know you’ll give in.”

“Not this time. Good night, Kate.”

Jessica gave the girl a quick wave as Gideon kicked open the
door to their bedchamber. Once the door was closed again—and locked again—they
both made short work of ridding themselves of their clothes and tumbling into
the unmade bed. He kissed her, thanked her and then turned onto his stomach,
clearly intending to sleep away what little remained of their wedding night.

Goodness! They were behaving like a long-married couple. Or at
least like a long-married couple that had just disposed of a dead marquis.

She lay on her back while he lay on his belly. She lifted her
hand and idly began stroking his bare back, more content than she could even
imagine. Which, if she were to think about the entirety of her current
situation, wouldn’t be very sensible of her. But it seemed sensible enough for
now.

“
Giddy?
Really?” she asked him
after a bit.

He mumbled something she probably shouldn’t have heard, and
then sighed. “Good night, Jessica.”

She smiled up at the draperies. “Good night. Giddy.”

* * *

G
IDEON
LAID
DOWN
HIS
FORK
with extreme
precision. Indeed, he’d kept his entire posture under careful control throughout
the length of Jessica’s embarrassed recitation of the conversation she and Adam
had shared in the modiste’s dressing room. He’d asked no questions. Until now,
with her final admission.