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She leaned back and stroked her breast until the nipple peaked and was hard. “You shall have all you desire.”
Ramey stood. “I’ll get it.” He started for the door, but her voice stopped him.
“Be careful in Paris, Lord Sedgwick. They’re cutting off the heads of noblemen.”
Her laughter followed him out of the room and down the stairs.
Chapter 5
Gabrielle lifted her skirts and started up the walk to her town house on Audley Street. She’d sent Diana’s carriage home, waving off the footman’s request to see her to her door. She felt bad enough borrowing Diana’s carriage to attend the Winterbourne ball when Diana could not. She didn’t want to keep her friend’s servants longer than necessary. She hoped Sedgwick hadn’t stumbled upon Cressy and Diana at his town house. Gabrielle had such a simple job—keep Sedgwick at the ball—and somehow she’d managed to muck it up.
Her failure with Sedgwick was bad enough. Worse was the look she imagined on Diana’s face when she told her friend she saw vicomte Marsan dancing with several eligible young ladies. Of course, the vicomte’s wandering affections would seem like a trifle when Gabrielle had to confess to seeing Lady Blakeney, Diana’s idol.
But perhaps she needn’t mention Lady Blakeney.
Gabrielle wasn’t certain she would say anything about the incident in the library to Cressy or Diana. The whispered words of the Scarlet Pimpernel were still swirling around in her head, and she felt like a moth before the proverbial flame.
Le Saphir Blanc. What she wouldn’t give to feel its weight in her hands, hold its brilliance up to the light…
But accepting the Pimpernel’s mission, no matter how noble, was the riskiest thing she’d ever do. The theft of the bracelet aside, there was no guarantee she’d make it into or out of Paris alive.
She started up the steps to the town house, shivering a little in the cool night air. A moment more and she’d be inside, warm beside the fire. Hopefully, Cressy had managed to steal Cleopatra’s necklace. Gabrielle could imagine Sedgwick’s face when he discovered—
Suddenly she flew backward, her feet in the air and a clamp about her waist. Everything went blurry for a moment until her body slammed into the ground and she stared up at the burly man crouched over her. Her whole body convulsed in fear. Panic gripped her chest, and she struggled to take a breath.
The man’s face filled her vision. He had a bulbous nose, dark bulging eyes, and a wide mouth. She judged from the rank odor that his mouth was filled with rotting teeth.
She blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying over the ringing in her ears. “Wha—?”
He shook her shoulders violently. “I said, where’s my blunt? I want it now!”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She struggled to rise and had a brief glimpse of the bushes in front of her town house before he pushed her down again. She realized she lay beside the bushes, shrouded in darkness by the limited reach of the lantern at the house’s door.
“Stop playing games,” the man hissed. “You know who I am and what I want.”
She did know. This was one of George’s creditors. She couldn’t have said which one or how much she owed him, but he was right she played games. She’d been hoping to buy time, but when a carriage raced past without even slowing, she knew she was in trouble. No one could see her distress.
“I don’t have your money,” she said.
The look on his face turned murderous, and she quickly added, “Yet! Yet! I almost have it.”
“I told you the last time that was your final chance.”
“I know.” She remembered now. This man worked for the notorious Mr. Pin. She had learned after George’s death that he often loaned money to gamblers short of funds. A gentleman would take an IOU, but George didn’t gamble exclusively with gentlemen, and he owed Mr. Pin quite a substantial sum.
“I need the money in my hand. Mr. Pin told me not to come back without it.”
“Perhaps you could explain to Mr. Pin—“
The man laughed. “Youexplain to Mr. Pin.”
And before she knew what had happened, she was on her feet being dragged by the arm toward a dark corner. “Wait!” She tried to dig her heels in, but her ball slippers were flimsy, and she lost one when she stumbled.
“Hurry up. Mr. Pin doesn’t like to wait. If you don’t have the blunt, he’ll find some other way to get the money out of you.”
She knew what that meant. She’d been threatened with imprisonment in a brothel before. Desperately, she looked about. Where was a carriage when she needed it? “Cressy!” she called. “Cressy!”
The man released her arm and grabbed her by the throat, covering her mouth with his hand and dragging her ever closer to the corner. She kicked and squirmed, hoping one of her neighbors would hear. A moment later she was thrown against the side of a carriage, then thrust inside. She fell on her knees and watched as her reticule landed on the floor in front of her.
