A Bright Particular Star (20 page)

“
I
’
ll bet ten
,
”
said Peregrine, frowning
over his cards
.

“D
ouble it.
”
Grey slid some of
the gold
coins at his elbow into the centre of the table.

Sighing, T
heo threw his cards down
.
“
I’m
out.
”

Peregrine flicked a triumphant look at his c
ompanions
and spre
ad his cards out
on the table
.
“
Vingt
-
et
-
un!
”
he announced gleefully.
“
Luc?
”

Peregrine
’s
eyes gl
ittered
when he
saw Grey
held the ten of diamonds a
nd ten of
clubs.
He slapped his palm on the table
in delight.
“
Ha!
Upon my word, if I haven
’t
won
again!
I
’
ve had the devil
’s
own luck tonight.
”
Cupping his hands together, he drew the
coins
towards him before stowing them in his pockets.

Peregrine
stood up and lurched heavily towards
the table, gripping it for
support.
“
Well, gentlemen,
”
he drawled, beaming
idiotically
at them,
“T
hank you for a pleasant evening.
It
’s
time I retired before my good fortune runs out.
Wish you both g
’
night.
”
He gave a ragged bow and zig-zagged out of the room, knocking over a chair in the process.
Moments later, he could be heard sta
ggering
up the stairs
.

“
I
’
ll be off to bed, too,
”
murmured Lucius Grey, collecting up his remaining
coins
.
“
It
’s
been a long day.
”

“
An eventful one, certainly,
”
said Theo, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
He looked across th
e table
at his companion
.
“D
o you know
Sloane well?
He seemed re
markably pleasant tonight, very
different from his demeanour
when he arrived.
I wonder if he is usually given to
capricious moods
.
”

“
I know him
enough not to trust hi
m
, drunk or sober,
”
replied Grey.

“
He
’s
well and
truly jug
-
bitten.
Surprised he can stand up.
”

Mr
Grey gave Theo a long, assessing look.
“
Look i
n the coal scuttle
.
”

“
Eh?
”
The
o stared at him, a puzzled crease between his brows
.

His companion nodded in the direction of the hearth.
“T
he coal scuttle
.
Peregrine was sitting next
to it.
Take a look.
”

Theo
jumped to his feet
and
peer
ed
into the cop
per scuttle.
A small pool of
wine
surrounded
th
e
coal in
the bottom
.

“
What the
deuce
—!
”
Theo jerked his h
ead up.
“D
id Sloane put that in there? When?
”

“
When he thought we were studying our cards,
”
observed hi
s companion.
“
H
e
tipped
in
a third of his glass
at re
gular intervals.
He
’s
not
as foxed as he would have us believe.
”

“T
o what purpose
?
”

Mr
Grey pursed his lips contemplatively
.
“
An old trick,
Mr
Cavanagh.
If you think your opponent is drunk, it encourages you to lower your guard.
”

“S
o he coul
d cheat
?
”

“
Probably
.
I cannot, for the moment a
t least, think of another motive
.
”

Theo gasped
.
He was amazed
by
Peregrine
’s
sleight
of hand
. He was even more amazed
Grey
had spotted it
.
T
he man carried his wine remarkably well.

“
How did you
stay sober?
You
’
ve had
the
same amount
as Sloane.
”

Grey smiled
.
“
I am a tad disguised, but
nothing of consequence
.
I topped
up my gla
ss whenever I had drunk half
its
contents.
That also
gives the illusion
you are drinking more
.
I would have preferred not to, but i
t was important
that
Sloane relaxed
—
”
He
halted,
and then
continued in a voice of careful
self-control.
“
I must be
more
drunk than I thought.
Excuse me, Cavanagh
.
I
’
ll take myself off to bed and hope for an undisturbed night, although
I’m
not sanguine about that.
”

Theo gave him a sharp look
.
“
Why?
”

“
Instinct.
”

With
this succinct response,
Mr
Grey got
to his fee
t and slid his remaining
coins
into his pocket.

“
I’m
for bed too,
”
said Theo
,
with a sigh
.
“T
here
’s
a deuce of a
mess to sort out tomorrow and
,
des
pite Sloane
’s
words,
I’m
not
sure his mother will agree to Miss
Devereux
going to London.
I don
’t
trust the fellow.
”

Grey gave him a searching look.
“
What makes
you think you can trust me?
”
he drawled softly
, b
efore sauntering out
.

Sophie
lay in bed,
still
wide awake.
Earlier, a large moth had flown in through the window.
She hated moths, particularly the large furry-bodied variety with which this part of Berkshire
seemed
overpopulated.
T
he warm
night and candlelight
had brought an army of them fluttering against the window pane and before she could fasten
the latch, the biggest, mo
st hirsute member of the advance
party
had slipped in and taken delight in tormenting her.

It had danced around her hea
d, making her heart pound like a drum
.
T
his irrational terror had been
with her since childhood and Sophie
knew she could not relax, let alone sleep, until the creature was out of the room.

Resisting the urge to get under the bed
clothes
and lie there quivering like a jelly
, she had
somehow managed to
usher the moth out
.
Then she snuffed t
he candle and climbed
between the sheets, only to discover
the encounter
had
ended any immediate possibility
of sleep.
S
o
she
plumped u
p her pillow
, dre
w back the curtain a little way to let the moon spill
in
its silvery hue
and glanced
around the shadowy
room
.

It was of
a good size and boasted a large
,
comfortable feather bed, hung with blue silk curtains and covered with a thick quilt.
The other furniture consisted of several chairs, the dressing table and a wash-stand complete with jug and basin, lavender-scented soap and two cloths.
An old fashioned mahogany wardrobe sat in the alcove on the opposite wall.
Desp
ite the warm evening, the remains
of a fire glowed in the grate.

Having set out this morning in a cheerful mood, S
ophie
’s
spirits were now
low
.
She was as determined as ever to r
each London, and t
here had been
no other way of getting to Bath quickly
and unobserved, but
even so
she regretted
behaving in
a manne
r which Theo must think
impetuous and foolish
.
Not content with that, sh
e had
embroil
ed
him in a brawl.

He must think her
lost to any
notion of ladylike conduct,
worlds away from the re
fined yo
ung women he was accustomed to
.
Oh, he
might find her
unsophisticated ways amusing
for a while
—
he might even want to alleviate the tedium of the journey with a little romantic dalliance
—
but nothing more
.
She didn
’t
possess a title, nor was she
rich,
elegant or accomplished.
All she had brought
to Theo Cavanagh
’s
life
was havoc.

A blush stole over her
face
as she
rec
alled
her reaction
to him.
She had never experienced anything
like it before
, ever
.
She had
almost
kissed him in the parlour and
would have done
so
but for
Perry
’s
arrival
.
Sophie
nibbled thoughtfully
on her lower lip
,
c
onside
ring why this should be so
.
Perhaps she felt an exaggerated sense of gratitude, or
had been
caught up in the thrill of being aw
ay from Ludstone?
Whatever the reason, she needed to
concen
trate on James and forget
her rescuer
, a
dmittedly n
ot a
n easy task when he seemed
to be
always
in her thoughts
.

Sophie did not relish
tomorrow
’s
confrontation
with her aunt and Peregrine
.
She lamented
the
early discovery of her escape
but, in her heart, she had always known they would not give up ea
sily.
She refused to
bow to
Eudora or Perry
’s
demands and there was little they could do about it
now
, short of physica
lly
abducting her
.
Theo would never let that happen.
He might consider
her
a nuisance, but he
had promised he would escort her to Lon
don and he was a man of his word
.

And what of the mysterious
Mr
Grey?
He r
eminded
Sophie of an
engraving of a
panther she had once
seen in a book
:
lean, dark and unpredictable, a
predator with a hint of danger clin
ging to him
.
She could not
bring herself to
trust him, despite Olivia
’s
inclination to give him the benefit of the
doubt.
It
was
also
wise t
o watch any friend of Perry
’s
. H
e
did not
keep the best company.

The
silence
surrounding her
was profound.
Sophie
’s
room was at the end of the passageway, too far from the stairs to hear conversation drifting up from below.
There was no murmur of voices or footsteps outside her door, nor even the rumble of carriage wheels in the courtyar
d o
utside.
It was eerily quiet
.

She
tried closing
her eyes and
in her mind
’s
eye
saw Theo standing before her,
bright
amusement in
his
eyes as she told him
about the
moth
.
Then,
he laughed
,
a throaty
, seductive sound
,
before he
caught her
in his arms and
began to
k
iss
her,
sl
owly and
thoroughly
.
A
pleasurable moan escaped her.

Sophie
’s
eyes flew open
in shock
.
Pressing
her
hands to her
cheeks in an effort to subdue the colour burning ther
e
, she wished she
could subdue the
strang
e
,
warm
ache
inside her
as easily
.

Stop this at once
, she told herself sternly.
Her aunt must be right in one respect
—
she was utterly without
propriety.
Such
fantasies
were inappropriate
for a lady
, especially
one
going
to meet her
sweetheart.

She tried
and failed
to conjure up a clear
image of James
‘s
face
.
She had not seen him for years and
his boyish good looks must have developed into the leaner, sharper, if st
ill handsome, features of a man
.
A
man she did not know, true enough,
but t
h
at would soon be remedied and meeting James again would put an end to this foolish fascination with The
o Cavanagh.
She seized on the
thought
and, ya
wning, felt her eyelids
begin to droop.
She turned on her side, letting the feather bed and quilt billow around her in a cocoon of warmth.

She awoke with a start some time later.
She had no idea how long she had been asleep, but the room was in darkness.
The glow from the embers had died and the moon had
disappeared behind clouds
.
Something had roused her, she was certain of it.
Raising herself
up
on one
elbow, Sophie listened
.
She peered into th
e sepulchral gloom, her senses
telling her she was no
longer alone.
Surely
that was
impossible
when the door was locked?
It was only then she remembered that in her hurry to get the moth out, she had forgo
tten to turn the key
.

The creak of a floorboard from the far side of the room seemed
to confirm her suspicions.
S
he thought she could dis
cern the outline of a figure. W
ith shaking fingers
she groped for
the tinderbox on the table.
B
efore she could find it, the sound of a stealthy footfall reached her ears.

“
Who
’s
there?
”
she whispered.

There was no re
ply and Sophie hesitated, wondering if
the darkness,
tiredness and
her
imaginat
ion were playing tricks on her
.

Another floorboar
d creaked, closer this time and w
hen she heard someone stumb
le
, she knew she had not been mistaken.
She jerked into a sitting position, only to be f
lung backwards a moment later when
she was pushed
down
on
to the bed
.
A heavy weight crushed her
, forcing the air from her lungs.
Frantic t
error
surged in h
er chest as
she tore at
the
f
ingers around
her throat
and
clawed
at the
gloved hand clamped over her mouth.
Blood roared
in he
r ears and
she struggled
to breathe
, writhing and kic
king
in an attempt to break
free
.

With unconsciousness
fast approaching
, s
he
stopped struggling and
let her body go limp
.
This abrupt change
had the desired effect.
The long fingers relaxed
slightly
, al
lowin
g her to fill her lungs
and slid
e one hand
under the pillow.
Her fingers
found and
closed around the c
o
rnflower
pin
,
and
she drew it out
in one smooth movem
ent, jabbing the
point
into her assailant
’s
arm
with as much force as she could muster
, ackn
owledging
with grim satisfaction
the resistance as it met
with
flesh
.

Her attacke
r fell back with a
grunt.
T
he bed curtains rustled and
quick footsteps followe
d.
A
shadow
was
briefly
silhouetted against
the g
limmer of light from the doorway
.
It was gone just as quickly and she caught the sound of the key grating in the lock.

Soph
ie scrambled out of bed.
S
haken, she dropped the hat pin on the table with a clatter and found the tinderbox
, knocking her reticule to the floor in the process
.