Not that she'd tell him if he asked. He'd just have to try to second guess her. At the moment, innocently asleep, she presented him with no problems. Smiling, he brushed his lips over her forehead before sliding out of bed, careful not to wake her, pulling the sheet up over her bared shoulder.
Softly, he left the room in the gray light of dawn. He'd engaged to drive his mother and sister to Brook Street after breakfast; Elinor had nobly offered to accompany them on a visit to the Elgin Marbles. Later he intended to continue his goading of Neil. He could smell blood now; if only he could get the man to fall apart in one of their clubs.
Theo awoke when Sylvester was breakfasting dutifully with his mother and sister. She'd dined with them the preceding evening before going to the Vanbrughs', so felt quite justified in breakfasting in peace abovestairs. She was dressed when they left the house at nine-thirty to drive to Brook Street and watched them leave from her bedroom window, Mary swathed in a heavy pelisse, Lady Gilbraith tapping her foot impatiently on the pavement as the footman took an instant too long to open the door to the barouche.
Sylvester climbed in behind his mother and sat beside her, his expression stoic as he inclined his head to listen to what looked to the watcher above to be some considerable diatribe.
It couldn't have been a more convenient absence, Theo reflected. He'd be well out of the way when Neil Gerard came to collect her.
Critically, she examined her image in the mirror. Gerard hadn't seen her new haircut, and she had every intention of making the most of the surprise.
She wasn't planning seduction, but with cold-blooded certainty Theo knew that the more alluring she could look, the more likely she would be able to slide beneath his guard. A chip straw hat with dark-blue velvet ribbons allowed the glossy ringlets full play as they dangled over her ears and wisped on her forehead; her driving dress of blue velvet matched the ribbons; kid half boots offered a nice touch to a neat ankle. York tan gloves and fur muff completed a picture that her mother and Madame Hortense, the milliner, had gone to a deal of trouble to put together, without much help from the Countess of Stoneridge, the countess was obliged to admit. However, examining her reflection, she decided that maybe she would pay a little more attention to such details in future. They were very useful when one needed to call upon them.
She tripped lightly down the stairs, offered Foster a sunny smile, and said she would await Captain Gerard in the library. She didn't have long to wait, however, before the butler announced the gentleman in the flat tones that Theo knew denoted disapproval. Foster did not like the idea of the countess's going out with a strange man. While he wouldn't bat an eyelid at her unescorted excursions around Stoneridge and Lulworth, driving out alone with a strange gentleman through the hazardous streets of London town was another thing altogether.
"What should I tell his lordship, should he inquire your whereabouts, Lady Theo?" he asked ponderously, holding open the front door.
"Why, that I have gone for a drive with Captain Gerard," Theo said with an innocent smile. She intended to come back from this drive with her present for Sylvester, so it wouldn't matter if he knew who she was with once they were on their way. "The captain will return me safely. Won't you, sir?" The innocent smile turned arch.
"But of course, ma'am. I'm aware of how precious is my charge." He bowed, his flat brown eyes skimming over her countenance.
Theo felt a tiny prickle of unease, quickly dismissed. The toad didn't know she suspected anything. But why was he interested in cultivating her? The wife of his enemy.
And why hadn't she thought of that before? But it was too late now. She'd been so busy pursuing her own plans, she hadn't stopped to wonder why Neil Gerard should have played so neatly into her hands.
Anyway, it didn't matter. She had her pistol and Edward was following her.
Smiling, she laid her hand on Gerard's arm and allowed him to hand her into his phaeton, resisting the urge to look behind her to see if Edward's curricle was waiting at the corner.
Edward waited until the phaeton was halfway up the street, then set off in pursuit The streets were busy, and it was easy to keep a reasonable distance behind his quarry without drawing attention to himself. They proceeded along Piccadilly and into the Strand. Edward assumed Gerard would turn down New Bridge Street and cross the river at Blackfriars, but instead he headed up Ludgate Hill.
Odd, Edward thought Presumably he intended to cross the river at Southwark. It was eccentric, but perhaps he wished to show Theo some site or point of interest.
A brewer's dray lumbered into the road ahead of Edward's curricle, its four shires with braided manes planting their massive iron-shod hooves on the steeply rising road with noisy deliberation. Edward cursed. He still wasn't comfortable maneuvering his horses in a confined space one-handed. He was learning to hold the reins in his teeth while he directed with a flick of his whip, but it was tricky at best, and not something to be tried in a crowded thoroughfare when anything might spook one of his animals.
He was forced to hold back until the road widened a little and he was able to pull out and pass as they crossed Old Bailey. Only then did he see that the phaeton had disappeared. The dome of St Paul's Cathedral crowned the top of the hill up ahead, and there was no sign of Neil Gerard and his phaeton.
Edward's heart began to thump with uneasy premonition. Could they have turned down toward the river, retracing their steps to Blackfriar's Bridge? Theo had disappeared in the company of a man intent on murdering her husband. He swore as the bitter taste of his own futility washed through him anew. If he'd been able to pass the dray, he wouldn't have lost them. Why had he allowed Theo to coerce him into this? He'd known it was a mistake. He knew his limitations, but he just didn't want to accept them.
He glanced to his left into the dark shadows of a narrow court, and his heart jumped into his throat. The phaeton was drawn up before a door at the rear of the court. Instinctively, Edward drove past the entrance to the court, pulling into the side of the road a few yards up the hill.
"Hey, lad!" He beckoned an errand boy carrying a basket of loaves on his head. "Hold my horses for a couple of minutes. There's sixpence in it."
"But me loaves'll go cold, guv," the lad objected. "Master'll 'ave me 'ide if 'e gets complaints."
"Two minutes, and a shilling," Edward said brusquely, clambering down.
The lad deposited his fragrantly steaming basket on the pavement and gingerly took the reins. "Don't 'old with 'osses," he muttered. "They won't bite me, will they, guv?"
"No. Just stand still with them," Edward threw over his shoulder as he ran back to the entrance to the court Standing in the shadows, he stared into the gloomy, noisome three-sided space created by the backs of tall, narrow houses. The kennel running down the middle of the court overflowed with garbage, and the mired cobbles were thick with filthy straw.
The phaeton still stood at the door. Gerard and a massive man in a leather apron stood on the steps of the carriage, looking down into the interior.
Where the devil was Theo? Edward's heart was beating so hard, he could hear the blood roaring in his ears. The big man bent and hoisted something into his arms. Edward felt sick as he stared helplessly at the scene, recognizing the unresisting bundle the man threw over his shoulders.
What had they done to her? Why hadn't she used her pistol? He took a hasty step into the court and tripped over a bundle of sacking that cursed vilely. Looking down, he saw a pair of hollow, burning eyes glaring at him, filled with a malevolence that sent chills down his spine. A clawlike hand in fingerless mittens clutched a stone jar.