Chapter 6 #2
“Oh no. It’s just Art.” What do I do? What do I say to him?
More than anything, she wanted to go to Brighton with him, to relax into his company and enjoy being alone with him, loving him…
But surely the rubies would always come between them?
Once she had them safe, all would be well.
Perhaps she could send Snowy for them… But he was not at breakfast, and she could hardly beard him in his bedchamber or even send him a note since there was no time.
Oh hell and the devil confound it! “Do you know, I think I’ll go and clear this up with my brother.
We could go to Brighton later on, Corey? Or tomorrow, perhaps?”
“We’re all going on an excursion there tomorrow,” Lady Somerville said. “Come with us.”
“What do you think?” Gaby asked her husband nervously.
He looked up from his own letter, but he had clearly heard everything for his eyes were hard as flint. She knew before he spoke that she had chosen disastrously.
“Why, do as you like, my dear. I shall do perfectly well by myself in Brighton. Give Arthur my regards.”
Stricken, she stared at her breakfast, pushing it around the plate a little while he silently read on. It was excruciating.
At last, she rose and excused herself and hurried from the room.
Since it seemed foolish to take the massive Corey travelling carriage and four horses for one person on a presumably short distance, she asked Sir Peter, encountered in the hall, if she might borrow a small vehicle for a short trip.
“Of course,” he said jovially. “I’ll send to the stables for you.”
* * *
Two hours later, she stormed into her brother’s room at the Blue Toad and glared at him.
“Why are you still in bed while I…!” she began in a towering rage.
“Because there’s nothing else to do here,” he interrupted, sitting up and revealing his very crumpled shirt. “I can’t even go out, let alone walk all the way to Normanton for fear of losing the damned baubles to vagrants or highwaymen!”
“Then why couldn’t you come to Normanton in the first place? There’s a perfectly good inn there if you’re avoiding Corey.”
“I’m not avoiding Corey,” he retorted, scowling. “You are. And I couldn’t go to Normanton because I ran out of funds and the damned postilions rumbled me.”
“Oh.” Pulled up short by her realization of the difficulties she had put him through, she sat on the edge of the bed. “Sorry. But you got the rubies?”
“No thanks to you. Nicholas didn’t have them. So, I had to go to Sanford, and they were just where you’d left them, silly chit.”
She opened her mouth to retaliate but ended by sighing and admitting, “I am a silly chit. I was quite sure Nicholas couldn’t have passed over them. How did you talk Scrivens round to parting with them?”
“I didn’t.” Art told her about the little maid fetching them, and warned her not to let anyone dismiss the girl.
Gaby promised she would not, and he extracted the familiar case from under his pillow. She hugged it.
“That was clever of you,” she said generously. “Thanks, Arty. Scrivens can’t have let Nicholas into the house, which is an excellent thing.”
“Oh, he got in, pinched your paper knife and a few coins, but seems to me he was too in awe of Corey to nab the family heirloom.”
Gaby, remembering with a chill in her heart the cold flint of her husband’s eyes, shivered. For the first time ever, she understood Nicholas’s behavior. She would do anything too to avoid that look. Though she was likely to see little else from her husband now.
She took the purse from her reticule. Most of it was the money Art had so recently paid her back, plus the few guineas she had won at cards last night. “Will this pay your shot and get you back to Brighton?”
“Should do,” Art said, weighing it in his hand.
“I can take you as far as Normanton, if you like.”
“No, you go back to Corey and stop playing games, Gaby. The only sign of weakness I’ve ever seen in him is that he loves you.”
“I love him,” she whispered. “And I think I’ve messed it up again.”
“Tell him everything,” Art said severely. “And all will be well.”
“Do you really think so?”
He groaned. “Go away, Gaby. I can’t stand you going all pathetic on me.”
Heartened by this encouragement, she laughed and rose to her feet. “Thanks, Art. I do owe you. Again!”
* * *
Back in the unassuming coach, with a change of horses, Gaby hoped to make good time on the return journey. She hugged the case of rubies to her heart and prayed that Leo would not have gone to Brighton without her. She meant to go straight to him with the rubies and tell him the whole silly story.
And it was silly. After last night’s admissions, she should have told Leo the rest and gone to Brighton with him, via the Blue Toad if necessary.
“Wrong, wrong, wrong,” she muttered. “We have both been wrong the whole way…”
Quite suddenly, she thought of another thing that could have gone wrong, and all but wrenched open the jewel case. To her relief, all the ruby pieces lay there just as she had first seen them.
Thank…
The carriage, which had been bowling along at a good clip, slowed so abruptly that she was thrown forward almost to her knees. Shouting amidst the sounds of more hooves came from the road, and the carriage lurched to a halt.
Still clutching the case, she leaned forward to see out of the window—just as the door was wrenched open.
A masked man stared at her, a pistol in his gloved hand. Only his eyes were visible, and they stared at her for what felt like a pregnant moment. Then he muttered something under his breath, wrenched the jewel case from her hold, and slammed the door in her stunned face.
As if in a bad dream, she heard him ride away with the rubies.