Dangerous

Chapter Nineteen

Sebastian got home shortly before dawn. He heard the distant clatter of pans from the kitchens as he went up the stairs. Even as the day was ending for the high-ranking members of the ton, it was just beginning for their servants.

He slowly untied his cravat as he walked down the hall to his bedchamber. He could feel the familiar tension deep inside. This was the hour he hated the most. It was the time when the new day did battle with the night and neither light nor darkness promised hope.

It seemed to Sebastian that he was most aware of the cold place deep inside himself at this hour. The feeling of being forever trapped in an icy gray fog always seemed strongest at dawn.

But it wasn't quite as bad as it had been in the past, he realized. He knew it was because he had Prudence waiting for him. After dawn he would be able to lose himself in her warmth. How had he survived all these years without her?

He opened the door of his bedchamber and saw that the room was not empty. Prudence was asleep in his bed instead of her own. Lucifer was curled up beside her. The cat opened his golden eyes and stared unblinkingly at Sebastian.

Sebastian walked over to the bed and stood looking down at Pru­dence for a moment. Her hair was loose and her night rail had slipped down over one shoulder. She looked soft and warm and forever inno­cent. Because of her he was no longer completely alone.

He turned away from the bed and went across the room to the small table that held the brandy decanter. He poured himself a glass and sat down in front of the window to wait for the dawn.

Lucifer appeared beside the chair. He leaped effortlessly onto Se-bastian's thigh and settled down to watch the silent conflict through the window.

Sebastian stroked the cat and took a sip of brandy.

"Sebastian?"

"I'm home, Prue."

He heard her get out of bed and cross the room to stand behind him. She put her hand on his shoulder.

"Is everything all right?" she asked softly. "Did your meeting with Curling go as you had planned?"

"Yes." Sebastian stopped stroking Lucifer and reached up to clasp her hand. "I believe that he will leave England very soon."

Prudence squeezed his fingers gently. "I knew you would take care of matters, my lord."

"Did you?"

"Yes. You are a fine man, Sebastian. I am very proud to be your wife."

The simple words touched him deep inside, melting more of the ice. "I did it for you, Prue."

"I believe you would have done what you did for Jeremy, even if you had never met me."

He did not want to argue with her, so he said nothing. He took another sip of brandy.

Prudence was silent for a moment. "Do you think you will ever be able to sleep at this hour?"

"Never. I hate the dawn. No matter how bright the day, the cold fog is still out there, waiting."

"It is waiting for everyone, Sebastian. The secret is not to try to face it alone."

He tightened his grip on her hand. Together they watched the light wrestle with the darkness. After a time Sebastian saw that the fog had turned a much paler shade of gray. The morning had arrived.

Sebastian put Lucifer on the floor. Then he rose from the chair, picked Prudence up in his arms, and carried her to the bed. He drew her close, savoring her welcoming warmth.

The news of Curling's departure from London did not cause so much as a ripple of interest among the guests at the Brandon soiree that evening. Prudence remarked upon that fact to Sebastian as they stood together near the window.

Sebastian smiled. "There is no reason anyone else should be par-ticularly concerned with the fact that Curling has left Town suddenly. There is nothing unusual about it."

"Will they show an interest when they hear that he has left the country?"

"Yes," Sebastian said with cool satisfaction. "That will no doubt draw attention." He glanced across the room. "I see Lady Pembroke has arrived."

Prudence lifted her dangling glass to her eyes and spotted Hester. "Yes, so she has." She waved her fan enthusiastically at her friend. "I wonder if she has lined up any new clients for me. Now that your investigation is finished, it is time I turned up an interesting project for us."

"I can do with some peace and quiet for a while." Sebastian nar­rowed his gaze. "Damnation. Here comes Jeremy."

"Where? This silly glass is such a nuisance." Prudence held the fashionable glass up to her eyes again and peered through it. Jeremy was making his way toward them through the throng. He looked eager to reach Sebastian's side. "I do believe you have become something of a hero in your cousin's eyes, my lord, just as you have in Trevor's."

"I can think of other, far more interesting ways in which to amuse myself than playing hero to young men." Sebastian downed the cham­pagne in his glass as Jeremy arrived.

‘"Evening, Lady Angelstone." Jeremy bowed gracefully over Pru­dence's hand.

"Good evening, Jeremy." Prudence smiled at him.

Jeremy gave Sebastian a man-to-man look. "Expect you've heard that Curling left Town this afternoon."

"I heard."

"He'll no doubt be on his way to the Continent before long." Jeremy snatched a glass of champagne off a passing tray. "I suppose that I should be content with seeing him forced out of the country, but I still think the man should be made to pay more dearly for what he did."

"Believe me, Curling will find it hell to be banished from En­gland," Sebastian said. "Especially when he realizes that his newfound fortune will evaporate very quickly."

Prudence looked at him in surprise. "Why will it evaporate? I thought you allowed him to keep the investment company intact on condition that he left the country."

"I did." Sebastian smiled his coldest smile. "For all the good it will do him. When word gets about that he has left England and that the only other principal in the firm is mad Bloomfield, the value of the shares will fall swiftly. Within a few months they will be worthless. The company will be forced into bankruptcy."

Jeremy stared at him. "I had not realized that, sir. You mean Curling will not be able to hold on to his fortune?"

"Not for long. The rumors that Bloomfield is in charge will surely destroy the confidence of the creditors."

"Excellent." Jeremy smiled with satisfaction. "So that is what you meant by destroying him. Very clever, if I may say so, Angelstone."

Prudence grinned proudly. "Angelstone is a very clever man."

Sebastian quirked a brow at her. "Thank you, my dear."

Jeremy frowned. "I wonder if Curling is aware of his ultimate fate."

"I imagine he will comprehend the extent of his punishment soon enough," Sebastian said. "His bankers will no doubt keep him in­formed of his falling fortunes."

Jeremy looked at him in alarm. "Do you think he will attempt to return to England, then?"

"To face a host of furious creditors and the distinct possibility of being thrown into debtors' prison?" Sebastian asked. "I sincerely doubt it. But if he does, we will deal with the problem."

"So it's finished."

"I believe so," Sebastian said.

Prudence chuckled. "I do hope the two of you are aware of the stares you are drawing."

Jeremy grinned. "I know. People are not accustomed to seeing Angelstone chatting in a friendly manner with the members of his family. Oh, by the by, that reminds me, sir. I told Mama that you saved me from being arrested for murder."

Sebastian choked on a mouthful of champagne. "Bloody hell. I trust you did not tell her the entire tale."

"Of course not," Jeremy said seriously. "I knew she would have fits if I told her everything. I explained that everyone knew about the feud between you and the rest of us and that a murderer had attempted to capitalize on that information in order to cover his own tracks."

"What else did you tell her?" Sebastian asked ominously.

"Only that you had used your power to make certain Bow Street would take no interest in me."

"Hmm."

Prudence saw the blurry outline of a familiar figure forging through the crowd. She raised her glass to her eye again. "Speaking of Mrs. Fleetwood, here she comes now."

"Good lord," Sebastian said. "Am I going to be obliged to spend the entire evening in the company of my relatives?"

"I'm certain Mama only wishes to apologize to you, sir," Jeremy assured him.

"No doubt that is exactly what she intends." Prudence fixed Sebas­tian with a warning look. "The least you can do is be gracious, Angel-stone."

Sebastian smiled grimly. "If Aunt Drucilla actually undertakes an apology, I will eat my cravat."

Drucilla came to a halt in front of Sebastian. "There you are, Angelstone."

"Yes, madam, here I am. What of it?"

"Behave yourself," Prudence hissed under her breath.

Drucilla ignored the byplay. She glowered at Sebastian. "My son tells me that you have done your duty by the family regarding a certain matter that might have become potentially embarrassing."

A familiar unholy amusement sprang to life in Sebastian's eyes. "You may rest assured, madam, that Jeremy is in no immediate dan­ger of hanging."

"I should hope not. He's a Fleetwood, after all. No Fleetwood has been hung since Cromwell." Drucilla snapped her fan closed in a crisp, elegant gesture. "Jeremy also tells me that you were not the one who was attempting to implicate him in the deaths of those two men."

"Jeremy explained that to you?" Sebastian asked.

"Yes, he did."

"And you believed him, madam?"

Prudence drove her elbow into his ribs and smiled at Drucilla. "Angelstone is teasing you, madam. As you know, he has a very un­usual sense of humor."

"Ouch." Sebastian gingerly fingered his ribs. "I am not laughing now, madam," he said through his teeth.

Drucilla gave Prudence a quelling glance. "Really, my dear, that sort of foolish play is hardly suitable to the ballroom."

"I wasn't playing," Prudence murmured. She was aware that more and more heads were starting to turn.

Prudence could feel the anticipation rise like a surging wave all around her. She could also feel Sebastian readying his next taunting remark to his aunt. She prayed for deliverance and it arrived in the shape of Hester.

Having apparently decided, along with everyone else in the room, that social disaster was looming, Hester made a bold bid to forestall it. She gave Prudence an anxious glance and then turned to Drucilla with an affected start of surprise.

"Oh, hello, Drucilla," Hester said. "Didn't see you standing there. How are you this evening?"

"I am fine, thank you, Hester. I was just about to speak to Pru­dence about her gown."

"Lovely, isn't it?" Hester said, delighted with what seemed to be a safe topic. "That particular shade of lavender is all the rage at the moment, you know."

"It makes her look like a washed-out dishrag," Drucilla said. "And all those ruffles are perfectly ridiculous on her." She frowned at Pru­dence. "I see you have not yet found a new modiste."

Prudence felt herself start to turn pink. She glanced helplessly at Sebastian, but he showed no signs of offering assistance. "No, madam, I have not had time. But I intend to do so at the earliest opportunity."

"There is no help for it, I shall have to introduce you to mine," Drucilla said grandly. "I do believe she might be able to do something with you. You have possibilities."

Prudence's heart sank. She was acutely aware of the gleam in Se­bastian's eyes. She managed a polite smile. "That is very kind of you, madam."

"Someone's got to take you in hand. You are the Countess of Angelstone, after all. It seems I shall have to take it upon myself to educate you. Certain things are expected from the wife of the head of the family."

"Yes, of course," Prudence said weakly.

"I shall arrange to go shopping with you at the earliest opportu­nity." Drucilla turned on her heel and sailed off through the crowd.

Hester fluttered her fan with an air of excitement. "Dear me, Pru­dence, she may have a point. Now that I consider the matter, I'm not at all certain lavender and violet are particularly flattering on you."

"You're the one who chose these colors," Prudence said, thor­oughly disgruntled.

"Yes, I know, and they are extremely fashionable. Nevertheless, I feel we should bow to Drucilla's expertise." Hester examined Sebas­tian's austerely elegant black and white attire. Then she glanced at

Jeremy, who was equally striking. "The Fleetwoods do have a certain natural instinct for style. You may as well take advantage of it."

Sebastian smiled blandly at Prudence. "Quite right, my dear. Put yourself in my aunt's hands and do not concern yourself with the cost. No price is too high to pay to see how you fare on a shopping expedi­tion with her."

Prudence scowled at him. He knew very well she was already dreading the experience. "Don't you dare laugh at me, Angelstone, or I shall do something drastic, I swear I will."

"You must forgive me, my dear." Sebastian's eyes held the devil's own mirth. "But it would appear that a whole new world of entertain­ment is about to open up for me."

"Really, Sebastian."

"You were the one who wanted peace in the family, madam wife. Well, you've got your fondest wish. It will be vastly amusing to see you deal with the old witch. I beg your pardon, I mean with Aunt Drucilla."

Jeremy grimaced. "Mama means well, Lady Angelstone. But I fear she has a very strong notion of family responsibility."

"I'm sure she does," Prudence said dolefully.

"As do you, my dear," Sebastian said smoothly. "The two of you should get along famously." He started to laugh.

Prudence glared at him. Sebastian merely laughed harder. He did not even have the decency to stop when everyone in the room turned to stare.

Prudence looked pointedly at Jeremy. "Would you mind very much dancing with me, Jeremy? If I remain here with Angelstone I shall no doubt disgrace myself by kicking him in the shin."

Sebastian gave another shout of laughter.

Jeremy glanced curiously at Sebastian. Then he grinned and held out his arm to Prudence. "It will be my pleasure, madam."

"Thank you."

It was only after she had taken the floor with him that Prudence realized she had inadvertently given the ton something else at which to marvel. Every eye in the room was now on her.

"People are staring at us."

"Can you blame them?" Jeremy chuckled as he swung her into a waltz. "The Fallen Angel's lady is dancing with a member of the Fleet-wood clan. Furthermore, there is no indication that the devil is about to unleash his wrath against me in retaliation. He is too busy laughing his head off at a joke no one else can comprehend."

"They will think Angelstone has lost his wits," Prudence said. "And they may be correct."

"It will be all over Town by morning that the Fleetwood feud is finished," Jeremy mused.

"I suppose being taken in hand by your mother is not too high a price to pay for ending the feud," Prudence said, trying to be optimis­tic.

"Don't be too certain of that."

Prudence was still grumbling about the forthcoming shopping trip an hour later when Sebastian escorted her out into the cold, foggy night.

"It is most annoying, Sebastian. Back home no one ever remarked upon my clothes. Here in Town I do not seem to be able to please anyone. And what am I to do with the wardrobe I ordered when Hester took me in hand, I ask you?"

"Give it away, I suppose." Sebastian signaled for his carriage. The Angelstone coach was nowhere to be seen amid the crowd of vehicles that filled the street in front of the large house.

"To whom?"

Sebastian's mouth tilted. "To someone who looks good in shades of violet and lavender." He took her arm and started impatiently down the steps. "Come along. It will take another twenty minutes for the carriage to make its way through this press. We may as well walk to it."

"Very well. I certainly don't care to stand out here for long. It's quite chilly tonight." At least she had worn a cloak this evening, Pru­dence thought. Sebastian had insisted upon it.

It was difficult to tell one coach from another in the heavy fog. The black Angelstone carriage was waiting at the end of a long line of vehicles. A footman in the familiar black and gold Angelstone livery appeared to open the door for Prudence.

Something about him seemed different. She glanced up and real­ized she did not recognize him. Before she could raise her glass to her eyes for a closer look, she heard Sebastian swear softly.

"Who the devil—"

A soft, sickening thud cut off his words. Sebastian groaned. Pru­dence whirled around as she felt him release her arm.

"Sebastian." Instinctively she reached out to him as he crumpled to the pavement. But he was too heavy for her. She went down on her knees beside him. "Dear God, Sebastian, what's wrong?"

A man loomed up out of the fog. His face was a blur, but Prudence had no difficulty seeing the large blunt object in his hand.

"Don't you worry yerself none, ma'am. He'll be all right. I knows me job. Get on with ye, now. Into the coach. I'll put his nibs in there with ye."

Prudence rose swiftly, her mouth already open to scream for help. A rude male hand was instantly clamped across her lips, silencing her.

"Shut yer bloody mouth, yer ladyship," the strange footman hissed in her ear.

Prudence started to struggle. She kicked out wildly, but her move­ments were severely hampered by the heavy folds of her cloak. The other villain grabbed her ankles. She realized there were three men in all, including the coachman.

"Behave yerself or it'll be the worse for yer man," the false foot­man muttered. "We're in a hurry, ye know. Ain't got all night. Me and me two mates promised to deliver ye on time. Don't get paid unless we do."

Prudence glanced desperately up at the box as she was bundled into the carriage.

"Get ‘em inside," the man on the box said in a voice that definitely did not belong to Sebastian's regular coachman. "We ain't got all night."

Prudence's captors tossed her onto the floor of the carriage. There was a small, sharp crack that she recognized at once as the sound of her dangling eyeglass shattering beneath her cloak.

She floundered about, trapped in the folds of the garment.

"No sense wearin‘ yerself out," one of the men said gruffly. He reached into the carriage and hoisted Prudence onto one of the seats. "Best save yer energy. Expect me client's got plans for a pretty little thing like you."

The man wearing the Angelstone livery stuffed Sebastian's limp body into the vehicle. Sebastian sprawled facedown on the floor. He did not move.

Prudence gazed at him in horror, trying desperately to see if there was blood on his head or if his eyes were open. It was impossible to tell. Even if she had been able to get to her spectacles in her reticule, she knew she would not have been able to see how badly Sebastian was injured. The interior of the carriage was very dark.

The villain in the Angelstone livery jumped into the carriage and sat down across from Prudence. There was just enough light for Pru­dence to see the pistol in his hand.

"Well, now, reckon you and me will have to find somethin‘ to talk about for the next hour or so, ma'am. Yer man ain't goin' to be in the mood fer conversation for a while." He nudged Sebastian's still body with the toe of his boot.

"Don't touch him," Prudence said.

"Don't worry, he'll be in reasonably good shape when I deliver him to Curling Castle. That was the deal I made with his lordship, y'see. Both packages to be delivered in good shape."

Prudence could hardly breathe. "You're taking us to Curling Castle?"

"That's where we're headed, right enough. This damn bloody fog will slow us down somewhat but not much. Jack up there on the box is real good with the reins. I reckon we'll get there in no time."

The black chamber was every bit as cold as Prudence had remem­bered. The dark, heavy chill seemed to have a life of its own. It ema­nated from the stones themselves, not from the night air outside the castle walls. Like the fog, it shrouded everything in the room.

Prudence turned her head. The men who had brought her and Sebastian here a few minutes ago had left a single candle burning on the table. The flame was of little use against the oppressive shadows that filled the chamber.

She lay very still on the bed, listening to the sound of retreating boots in the hall. A small sense of relief washed over her. The kidnap­pers had departed.

She sat up stiffly. Her hands and feet were still bound, but at least the villains had not gagged her. Not that she intended to start scream­ing now, she thought. The last thing she wanted to do was summon one of her captors.

Chains clanked against stone.

Prudence raised her head swiftly and peered into the shadows. "Sebastian? Are you awake?"

"Bloody hell."

The surly sound of his voice revived her spirits as nothing else could have done. "They put you in those awful manacles on the wall."

"I noticed." Chains scraped lightly on stone again, as if Sebastian was quietly testing them. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." Prudence managed to sit up on the edge of the bed. "What about you?"

"I feel as if I've gone a hundred rounds with Witt himself, but other than that I seem to be in one piece."

"You've been unconscious for a very long time. I was terribly wor­ried about you."

"I wasn't unconscious, just dazed." Sebastian sounded coldly furi­ous now. "I couldn't seem to move for a while, at least not quickly enough to take that pistol away from the man in the carriage. I de­cided to bide my time."

"We're at Curling Castle," Prudence offered.

"Believe it or not, I figured that out all by myself."

Prudence frowned. "There's no need to get sarcastic. I was just trying to help you orient yourself."

"I beg your pardon, madam. I am not in the best of moods." Chains rattled again. "Damnation."

"What's wrong?" Prudence asked.

"What isn't wrong? This entire investigation has been wrong right from the beginning. Bloody hell."

"I mean what's wrong right now?" Prudence said patiently. "Why are you swearing?"

"Because I can't get quite the right angle on the locks of these manacles. I need to be a few inches higher."

Prudence brightened. "You're trying to pick the locks?"

"Yes." Chains rattled softly. "Damn it to hell."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"See if that chamber pot I saw under the bed last time is still there," Sebastian said.

"A chamber pot? Don't you think you can restrain yourself for a little while? We're in something of a hurry here, Sebastian."

"I need the damned pot to stand on so that I can get the wire into these locks," Sebastian said through his teeth. "If you find it, try to kick it over here."

"Oh. Yes, of course."

Chagrined, Prudence scooted off the bed. Unable to use hei bound hands or legs to control her descent, she landed with a thud or her knees. "Ow."

"Hurry."

She bent down and looked beneath the bed. The fuzzy outline of the chamber pot was just barely visible in the deep shadows. "It's there."

"Get it over here," Sebastian ordered.

That was going to be easier said than done, Prudence thought. But there was no point complaining about the difficulty of the task. She had the uneasy feeling that their lives might very well depend on her getting the chamber pot out from under the bed.

She lay on her side and wriggled partway under the iron bed. It took three attempts before she successfully hooked her bound ankles around the pot.

"Got it," she whispered.

"Push it over here."

"I'm trying."

Prudence tried three different positions before she finally rolled onto her back and used her feet to guide the pot.

"I feel like a worm." She inched the pot along the cold stone floor.

The process seemed to take forever. She was perspiring in spite of the terrible chill. She heard her delicate silk skirts shredding against the stone.

"A little closer, Prue," Sebastian said softly. "You're almost here."

She wriggled forward and pushed the pot ahead a few more inches.

"I have it," Sebastian said with soft triumph. He caught the cham­ber pot with the toe of his boot and dragged it closer.

Prudence sat up and watched as Sebastian stood on the overturned pot. She squinted, trying to see what he was doing.

"That's it, love," Sebastian crooned softly. "Give me what I want. Open for me, sweet. Let me inside. All the way inside." There was a small snick of sound. "Yes. Ah, yes. Beautiful."

"Did you get it open?" Prudence asked.

"One of them. One more to go."

The second lock went much faster. Sebastian was free a moment later.

He stepped down from the pot and went to work on the ropes that bound Prudence's hands and feet. She realized she could feel nothing at all in her upper arms.

Then the feeling began to come back.

Prudence bit back a scream as a painful tingling sensation swept through her arms. She stuffed a handful of the cloak into her mouth and bit down hard.

"Christ. I should have realized." Sebastian began to rub her arms swiftly. "Hold on, Prue. You'll be all right in a minute. Can you feel my hands?"

She nodded, not yet daring to spit the fabric out of her mouth. She was still hovering on the edge of a scream.

"Good." Sebastian sounded relieved. "That means they didn't bind you too tightly. You'll be fine."

Prudence was not so certain of that. But after a short while she was no longer afraid she would cry out if she moved her arms. She let Sebastian pull her to her feet.

"My God," she whispered.

"We've got to get out of here," Sebastian said. "We can't wait any longer."

"I know." Prudence took a deep breath. She looked down at the broken lens of her glass dangling on the end of the fashionable velvet ribbon. It was useless. Her tiny beaded reticule was still attached to her wrist, however. She opened it and discovered her spectacles safe inside. The wire frames were bent, but the glass was undamaged. She pushed them quickly into place on her nose.

"I'm ready," she announced.

"You are an amazing female, my dear." Sebastian grabbed her hand and hauled her toward the door.

Prudence heard the footsteps in the hall at the same instant that Sebastian heard them.

"Hell and damnation." He stopped. "Is nothing going to go right tonight?"

Prudence felt his fingers tighten again around her wrist. He jerked her over to the wall on the far side of the door.

"Don't move," he whispered.

She pressed herself against the stones. Sebastian strode swiftly across the room and scooped up the chamber pot. Then he flattened himself to the wall alongside her.

The door opened. A man with his hands tied behind his back stumbled into the chamber. He was given a push from behind that sent him reeling. He lost his footing and fell.

The candlelight flickered on Garrick Sutton's face. His eyes met Prudence's in the shadows.

Before she could react, one of the men who had kidnapped her and Sebastian stepped into the room. He was holding his pistol in one hand.

"Well, now, that's that, then," he announced in tones of satisfac­tion. "A job well done, if I may say so."

Then his gaze fell on the empty bed. Prudence saw his eyes start to widen as he glanced at the dangling manacles. "What's this? They've escaped."

He opened his mouth to yell for assistance.

Sebastian took one step away from the wall and brought the cham­ber pot crashing down on the villain's head. The pistol fell and skit­tered under the bed.

The man sank to the floor with no more than a groan. He did not move.

Sebastian looked down at Garrick. "This certainly complicates matters."

"Sorry about this," Garrick said ruefully. "They were waiting for me when I left my club."

"Untie him," Sebastian said to Prudence. "I'll get the pistol. At the rate we're going, we shall undoubtedly need it."

But before Prudence could move, the door of the massive black wardrobe swung wide. Lord Curling stood there, a pistol in his hand. Behind him yawned the black opening of a hidden staircase. Prudence belatedly recalled the false back Sebastian had discovered in the ward­robe. Now she knew what had been concealed behind it.

"Pray do not move so much as an inch, Angelstone." Curling stepped down from the wardrobe. "Or I shall put a bullet into your lady."

Sebastian froze. "This has gone far enough, Curling."

"Not quite." Curling beckoned to Prudence. "Come here, my dear."

Prudence did not move.

Curling's eyes narrowed. "I said, come here. If you do not, I may change my mind and put the first bullet into your precious Fallen Angel."

Prudence walked forward reluctantly. As soon as she was within reach, Curling put an arm around her throat and pulled her against him to use as a shield.

"There, now," Curling said. "This is much better."