An Impetuous Abduction

Phona heard the lie in his voice. His loss still distressed him very much. But she had no strength to deal with the subject. Let him deal with it himself!

“Yes, well, though it is sometimes hard to credit, she is Mama’s bosom friend. Yet the least thing puts them at dagger-drawing. They are so envious of one another. The day I first encountered you, she gave a small party and did not invite Mama and me. Mama was quite distraught.”

“Over an invitation to a party?” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Mama is much given to the vapors.” Phona sighed. “I suspect she enjoys them.”

“Very likely. But you do not?”

“No! No, indeed.” She shook her head. “I had ridden out to escape them. It is always somehow my fault, you see.”

Lord Hades raised an eyebrow. “And how did this omitted invitation come to be laid at your door?”

“I said something—well, untactful—about Mrs. Rowsley’s future son-in-law. I should not have, of course, but I had heard so much of how the very young Suzette Rowsley has already captured a fiancé, whereas I… It wears on one to have one’s shortcomings held up too often.”

“I should imagine so. And Mrs. Rowsley overheard your remark?”

“Oh, no! I would never say that in her hearing, but what must Mama do but repeat my ‘clever’ remark. So now we are all out of charity.”

“But if your Mama repeated it…?”

“It is my fault for having said it in the first place.”

His lordship—did Hades qualify as his lordship?—shook his head. “I will never understand women. What was this disastrous remark?”

Phona flushed. “That he looks as much the bantam cockerel as he sounds.”

Hades threw back his head and a roar of laughter erupted.

Phona scowled with what defiance she could muster. Then she, too, began to laugh.

She laughed until exhaustion caught up with her and tears of weakness began to escape. She wiped at them angrily, swatting at the big, linen handkerchief that appeared before her face. “Give me the handkerchief. I can do it.”

“I have no doubt you can, but today I shall do it.” Hades moved her hands away firmly and wiped her eyes.

“Stop it! I am not a child!” Phona sank wearily into the pillows.

He returned the handkerchief to his pocket. “No, my dear, you are not. Believe me, I am well aware of that fact.”

Now what in the world did he mean by that?

The footman brought the note directly to Lady Hathersage’s sitting room where she and his lordship had sought seclusion. Demetra’s breath stopped, and she grasped her throat with both hands. Dear God in heaven! Please let this be news of her dearest Phona.

Her husband took the letter, dismissing the footman with a nod. Demetra sank back into the cushions of her chaise and clutched the pillows in both hands. A sound squeezed past her lips. “George…?”

He unfolded the paper, his face grim.

“What…? What…?” Demetra leaned forward, willing him to speak. Instead he looked puzzled. She slid to her feet and tried to read over his shoulder.

He handed her the letter. “I don’t know what to make of this. On my life, I don’t.”

“What does this mean?” She raised her gaze to his. She could not make it out without her eyeglasses, and she refused to wear them.

“I was expecting a demand for ransom.” He took the note from her trembling fingers and perused it again. “And this makes no mention of it.”

“Is she alive? Is she hurt?” Demetra reached again for the letter, but this time George did not relinquish it.

“Yes, she is alive. He says that she is well save a case of la grippe.”

“La grippe! I told her it was too cool to ride that afternoon. But did she listen…?”

“Enough, Demetra! That is hardly the point.” Lord Hathersage scowled.

Recoiling in astonishment, Demetra took refuge behind a lacy handkerchief, and sank onto the chaise. Fresh tears filled her eyes. George never growled at her.

He continued, “This scoundrel says that he must keep her with him for her own safety. He suggests that we put it about that she is exhausted and has gone to Bath to take the waters.”

A delicate snort erupted from the chaise. “Phona exhausted? Phona drinking the waters? No one will believe that.”

His lordship gave her another look, and Demetra subsided. Her husband continued to read. “He assures me that as soon as the danger is past, he will return her to us unscathed.”

“Unscathed? Does he mean that he will not…? Or…oh, my God, George! What if he already has!” Demetra’s hands flew to cover her face. “Oh! She will never marry. I will have failed her completely.”

“Damn his bloody soul to hell! He’d best not have. If he is trying to force a marriage with an heiress, I shall pull him limb from limb! I shall cut off his bloody…” He glanced at her and broke off.

Dear heaven! Demetra had never seen him so angry. For a moment she feared apoplexy. Then her own anger welled up in her, almost choking her.

“No, George. You will hold him, and I shall wield the knife!”

Chapter Four

As the days passed, the unimaginable oddness of the situation began to fade. The men cared for her as Lily and Nurse might have, and Phona found herself accepting their ministrations. She even found herself looking forward to another chat with Lord Hades each afternoon.

Just to break the monotony of the day, of course.

She had slept better the previous night than before, allowing his lordship to do the same. But even though he probably was not sleeping this morning, she had not seen him since he’d left his cot.

When he did appear, Phona found herself alternately elated and dismayed. He came in with Aelfred, bearing a small table and basin, while his henchman was laden with clean sheets. Hades set his burden down near the fire.

Aelfred laid his linens on a chair. “Back directly with the water.”

Phona rejoiced. She was to have a bath and a clean bed.

With them as attendants.

Oh, no!

“Lord Hades, I… Uh… I…”

He turned to her and grinned. “Be of good cheer, Miss Hathersage, your modesty will be preserved.”

He pulled a chair into place near the table with the basin, then wrestled the heavy, carved screen from the corner of the room to shelter them. Hades turned and looked closely at her. “Why, Miss Hathersage, you are blushing.”

“I am not!” Phona turned her face away.

Hades came to the bed and, with a hand on her chin, pulled it toward him. “Yes, you are.” He smiled. “But it is a very becoming blush. It makes you appear very… innocent.” He paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Just as you should.”

She thought he might have said more, but Aelfred came through the door carrying a can of hot water. He poured part of it into the basin and put in a cautious finger.

Which he quickly jerked out. “Too hot, me lo…er, sir. Best wait a bit.”

“That is just as well. By the time I get our lady situated, it will no doubt have cooled.”

Phona gazed at him warily. He advanced on her, purpose in his eye. She grabbed the bedclothes and pulled them to her chin. “Um, one moment, my lord. Perhaps I can…”

Hades began to laugh, firmly seizing the covers. “Miss Hathersage, you have not even the strength to raise yourself on the pillows successfully. Here, let me have the quilts.”

He separated the quilts from the sheet and pulled them back. She clutched the sheet desperately to her chin. He shook his head. She need have no worry. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the sight of her nubile body. The temptation hovering in the air was burden enough. “Are you ready?”

She nodded and gamely lifted her chin. “Yes. I would like to be clean. Proceed, sir.”

“That’s my brave lady.” He tucked the sheet around her and lifted her off the bed. He carried her to the chair behind the screen and settled her into it. For a moment Leo feared she would not be able to sit, but she rallied and straightened.

“Thank you, sir. I can manage now.”

“Not so fast, Miss Hathersage. I am not sure of that at all.” Leo tested the water again, stirring it with his finger. The fragrance of lavender wafted into the room. “It is still too warm. I don’t want a burn to add to your miseries. Shall I brush your hair while it cools?”

“You don’t mind playing the lady’s maid?”

“Not at all.” In fact, he relished the idea of feeling the silky warmth in his hand. He retrieved a brush he had thrust into his back pocket, and set to work.

“My hair must be very nasty after lying on the ground.” The lady sighed. “Yesterday I could barely manage the comb.”

“Not that bad.” Leo flicked a dusting of soil from the sheet. “But you still have a few leaves and twigs caught in the curls.”

“How humiliating! These hateful curls!”

“What?” He quit brushing and leaned over to look at her face. “I cannot allow that, miss. Your curls are delightful.”

“You are very kind, sir, if untruthful. I own a mirror.”

Leo resumed brushing. “Apparently a very poor one. I must bring you one that shows your beauty accurately.”

“How gallant you are! Who would have thought it?”

She chuckled softly. He liked her laugh. He had not heard enough of it.

“Even rogues can speak the truth.” He closed his hand around a cluster of ringlets. “You are quite lovely.” Before that remark could linger, he added, “There. All done. Let us see about the water. Ah, just right. I shall be within call.”

Suiting action to the words, he stepped around the edge of the screen and waited. Hearing no sound of water sloshing, he ventured a question. “Miss Hathersage, do you need help?”

Her voice sounded near to frustrated tears. “No. It…it is just that I can’t get the sheet off.”

Deciding that meant she was still covered, Leo went back to the fireside. She slumped a bit to one side, leaning her elbow on the arm of the chair, a ghastly pallor draining her color. She would not last much longer. “I fear we must take the bull by the horns, Miss Hathersage. I will help you remove it—and the nightshirt.”

“Sir…Oh, dear. I suppose…” She rubbed her brow.

“We’d best just do it.” Leo took hold of the sheet.

“I am so tired. Perhaps I should just go back to bed.”

“I promise not to look.” He covered his mouth to hide a smile.

She gave him a suspicious glance. “How can you not? Oh, very well. Why should I draw back now? I have come this far. Close your eyes.”

A laugh escaped him. “Yes, miss.”

He dutifully closed his eyes, peeled away the sheet and tugged the nightshirt over her head.

“Are your eyes closed?”

He strongly suspected that her own were squeezed tight. “Yes, Miss Hathersage, they are quite sealed.” He dropped the sheet to the floor. Blindly, he inched backward a few steps, groping behind him for the edge of the screen.

And promptly tripped right over it. It crashed to the floor with a resounding clatter.

So did Leo.

The lady shrieked.

Leo cursed.

Hell and damnation, he could not separate himself from the blasted screen! It had fallen on top of him. As he tried to find his feet, his eyes flew open. Working frantically, he finally shoved the screen away and stood.

Miss Hathersage would be beside herself once more—this time with outrage. Leo risked a quick glance. She was reaching in vain for the sheet. He took a step toward her.

“Would ye be needing assistance, sir?” Aelfred spoke from the door, his voice carefully neutral.

Leo dived for the sheet and whipped it over the lady’s white form. He also carefully controlled his voice.

“Just right the damned screen, please, Aelfred.”

Leo stood, silent, holding the sheet while Aelfred set the shelter back up. His henchman’s face revealed not a single thought. Leo knew he was suppressing laughter. At Leo’s expense. He clenched his teeth and kept firm hold of the sheet.

Aelfred finished his task and vanished through the door. Leo knew he had stopped on the staircase, awaiting further emergencies. He sighed. “Well, let us move on before you tire completely. Call when you need me to help you dress.”

“Thank you, sir.” He thought he detected a small giggle. “But I think we should make the next attempt with your eyes open. I shall try to restrain my maidenly blushes.”

Leo’s laughter burst out of him. “Don’t do that, Miss Hathersage. I should very much miss your lovely blushes.”

She had surely blushed aplenty when his lordship returned to hastily slip the fresh nightshirt over her. Her whole body burned with it. But he had accomplished the task so quickly she felt sure his gaze had not lingered on her nakedness. Perhaps he was, after all, a more civilized pirate than she had previously believed.

Hades set her gently on the bed and pulled the cover up to her chin. He lowered himself into the chair with a plop. “My God! I’m as tired as though I had hauled canvas in a storm. Who would have thought giving one small lady a bath would be so exhausting?”

“You must think me a complete ninny, to create such a fuss.” She gazed up at him, grateful for the crisp feel and sunshiny smell of the clean sheets. Still blushing, she knew.

“Not at all, Miss Hathersage.” He propped his feet up on the chest. “Inexperienced, yes. Innocent, yes. Pure. But a ninny? No. You are bearing up amazingly well under the circumstances. One would expect you to be in strong hysterics.”

“I never have hysterics. It is just that no one has ever seen me… That is…”

“No man has ever seen your body, you mean. This must be very difficult for you.”

“Yes.” Phona sighed. “Of course. I don’t mean to seem unappreciative for the care you have given me. But if you had not…”

“If I had not brought you here in the first place, it would not be necessary. I have already explained that, but I understand your anger. Do not repine. I will take you home as soon may be.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “But how will I go on once I am there? I feel that I will see eveything differently after this experience. Matters that once seemed important…”

He looked at her thoughtfully. “Yes, I would imagine that you will have a very different point of view. But how did you go on before? I know you rode nearly every day. Did you go to parties often?”

Phona wrinkled her nose. “Not if I could avoid it. As I said before, I loathe parties. It is all I can do even to be polite. I always feel so…inadequate.”

“You? Inadequate? I can hardly credit that.” He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Well, only at parties. I do other things very well.”

“What other things do you do?”

“Mama does not like seeing to the household and the estate, so I do much of that. I enjoy it, especially visiting the tenants. Mama…” She had to think a moment about it. “Mama does not know how to talk to them as I do, whereas at a ball she knows just how to captivate everyone. A nod here, a touch there, a word to the favored few.”

He chuckled. “Yes, an apt description. I have seen your mother in action.”

“Have you?” Phona tried to sit up. “Where?”

“At a ball.”

She fell back. “You won’t tell me, of course.” It was a statement, not a question. She let it pass and continued, “I have never been able to do that. I sit by the wall, tongue-tied, wearing unbecoming colors and feeling ugly and awkward while my hostess brings young men to introduce to me and my hair works its way out of the pins. I dare not dance. It would all fall to my shoulders. I can’t even move my head. And I blush. So they think me very stiff and a great bore. And then, of course, there are the freckles.”

He smiled. “Blushing, your hair fallen to your shoulders. Now that would be a truly captivating sight. All the young men would trample one another to make your acquaintance.”

“You are teasing me.”

“No, indeed. I am completely serious. But why do you wear colors which do not flatter you?”

Phona sighed. “Because Mama wants to drape me in maidenly white at all times—at every ball, afternoon parties, certainly all al fresco occasions. I hate it, and it doesn’t suit me.”

He gazed at her, a twinkle in his eye. “You are not qualified for maidenly white?”

Her cheeks flamed. “My lord! How dare you?”

“Forgive me, Miss Hathersage.” He laughed aloud. “You are delightful to tease.” Leo sobered. “But you seriously underrate yourself. You will make a fine wife.” He looked thoughtfully into the fire for a moment. “Yes, a very fine wife. Beautiful, in spite of your distorted vision of yourself, accomplished in the needs of an estate. And both courageous and ingenuous.” He seemed almost to be talking to himself.

Before she could answer, he stood. “And right now, very weary. You should nap. I will return at supper time to keep you company. You will be happy to know there will be no gruel tonight. Aelfred has promised to make you a panada. Rest well.”

As he went out the door, Phona, already half-asleep, had a dreamy vision of herself dancing at a ball, around and around and around, her skirts swirling, her curls flying loose.

Dancing…with whom? She could see… Yes.

A man with a beard. A black vest.

And a hook.

This was a dangerous state of affairs!

She was beginning to be attracted to this man: a nameless rogue, a brigand—a maimed thief? Unbelievable.

Yet she looked forward to his visits every afternoon. Felt relieved when he appeared after supper to keep watch over her through the night. A wave of warmth spread through her whenever he touched her forehead to gauge her fever and a subtle, smoky scent rose around him.

This would not do at all. Phona had gone from the spit right into the heart of the flames. She resolved to guard her emotions more carefully. Each resolution lasted until the next time he sauntered into the room and her heart raced in her breast.

What a goose! Mama would shriek the house down if she knew.

Phona’s strength had gradually increased as her fever receded. Aelfred now brought her baked eggs at midday and boiled chicken and onions and a bit of cheese for dinner in place of the insipid, if highly nourishing and digestible, gruel.

Every afternoon Lord Hades lifted her into a chair, wrapped in a man’s huge silk dressing gown, while he sat nearby, keeping a sharp eye on her. While it provided a pleasant change to sit, Phona always returned to her bed with a sigh of relief. Would she never feel vigorous again?

Hades did so many things for her now. This afternoon he had again played the lady’s maid, helping her wash the still-lingering grit out of her hair.

Phona badly wanted a real bath in a real tub, but her host had shaken his head with a wry grin. “But nay! I should peek around the screen to find you sunk to the bottom, and then I should have to fish you out. With my eyes closed.”

Phona wrinkled her nose, then broke into a giggle. “I must agree the last attempt ended in complete disaster.”

“You have no idea how great…” He had broken off, leaving Phona wondering what he intended to say.

This evening as she sat up against the pillows, clean and combed, awaiting dinner, Aelfred came into the room and set the small table and two chairs tête-à-tête near the bed. “Good evening, miss. His… My master thought ye might be able to eat at table tonight.”

“Why, yes, thank you. I would enjoy being out of the bed.”

As she spoke, Hades arrived, looking his most civilized. He carried something green in his hand.

“What do you have there?”

He smiled. “A wreath for my lady’s freshly washed hair.” He held it up for her inspection. It was twisted of small, pliable branches of spring leaves and tiny white flowers. “When I noticed the leaves in your hair the first time I brushed it, I thought it somehow suited you—the daughter of a fertility goddess.”

Phona laughed. “Mama is hardly a fertility goddess.”

“No, hardly. But her namesake, Demeter, was.” He laid the circlet over her curls and stepped back for a better view. “Charming.”

“I doubt that, but thank you. You are very thoughtful.” Strange how even a little bit of frippery made her feel more attractive, more feminine.

He held up the silk robe. “Are you up to a proper dinner?”

“I should love one.”

He picked her up and transferred her to one of the chairs. “Tonight you shall have venison and a small glass of red wine.”

“Wine? I am quite astonished.”

“We need to build your blood. I do not like this lingering weakness. Ah! Here is Aelfred.”

They dined on venison and potato pie, a bowl of apples, and, as promised, red wine. Phona sipped cautiously. She was barely accustomed to wine of any sort. Nor did she care much for the sour stuff. She had drunk about half of her portion when Hades moved his chair around the table nearer to her own.

From somewhere on his person a sharp blade appeared as if by legerdemain. Phona blinked and leaned away from him a bit. If he noticed, he gave no sign of it. He reached for an apple, set it on the table, and, steadying it with his truncated left arm, began to make careful slices. When he had cut half the apple, he set down the knife, plucked a piece from the pile and, without warning, slipped it between Phona’s lips.

“Oh!” Startled, she drew back again. He had been helping her eat for many days, but there seemed something different about this. The simple gesture sent a wave of sensation through her.

Perhaps it was the wine.

Or perhaps it was the way he was gazing at her, a crooked smile on his lips and a warmth she had never seen in his one twinkling eye.

She blushed.

He laughed softly. “Have a bite of apple, my lady.”

“Uh… Thank you.” Phona swallowed, and he fed her another slice.

“And another sip of wine.” He handed her the glass.

She took a tiny sip and set it down. “I am not very fond of wine.”

“I know, but you need it. And apples are very healthful.” He popped another slice into her mouth.

His fingers never touched her lips, but somehow Phona had felt their warmth. In fact, she could feel the warmth of his whole body as he sat next to her. Could sense that subtle scent. It created a response down deep inside her.

Looking amused, he picked up the uncut portion of the apple and took a large bite, white teeth gleaming. The heat blossomed.

It must be the wine.

Phona glanced at the man beside her. He took another bite, looking steadily at her as he chewed. Phona all but gasped.

It could only be the wine!

Leo had taken a distinctly wicked satisfaction in his modest seduction of Miss Hathersage. Her inexperience with dalliance made flirting with her a pleasure. He liked the flush that crept from her breast to her cheeks. Liked her response to his play with the apple.

Liked the fact that she had been aware of him as a man.

It pleased him to think she might respond to him. He had barely restrained himself from kissing her when he lifted her into his arms to return her to the bed, from lying down beside her and teaching her the delights of being a woman.

But he must not unleash his passion now, must not let those impulses take him too far. He had begun to see the shape of the future that he knew must inevitably follow this situation. It could not be kept secret forever, and the consequences of exposure were certain. Only one honorable course would be open to him.

But Leo could not yet approach that future. He still had the “felonious business” to complete. A strong chance existed that he would not survive it. And the truth was, even as much as he desired her, he would avoid a future with her if honor allowed it.