Chapter 10

F ia took the chair by the window. Earlier she'd angled it so that the light streaming through would fall full on the face of anyone sitting in it. After the strain of yesterday's meeting with her father, the morning sunlight would be unkind to her. Every line, every shadow, would be pronounced. Idly, she began sorting through the stack of letters in her hand.

"I don't understand!" Pip exclaimed. He had not sat down since his arrival ten minutes earlier.

Fia sighed heavily, clearly relating annoyance, and regarded the boy coolly. Though his flesh still had a waxy aspect and he'd lost weight, he moved without difficulty and his breathing seemed easy.

"What is it you do not understand?" she asked heavily. "I have made plans to travel out of the country with a dear friend of mine. I shall be gone a fortnight or longer. What is so difficult to understand in that?" The lie came easily. The thought of hiding here while everyone believed her to be abroad was heavenly.

"Who is this friend?" the boy demanded.

She picked up a silver letter-opener. She must not allow Pip to involve her in some emotional scene. Were she to answer in any way other than coolly, it would only convince him that there was, indeed, sentiment between them. "I don't think that is any of your concern, is it?"

"But …" The anger drained from his young face, leaving only pain and transparent confusion. "What have I done? You seem different."

"Do I?" Her voice rose in surprise. "In what way?"

For a moment she thought he would refuse to answer, but then, he was young and had been wounded and it was only natural that he should seek to wound in return. His lip thrust out belligerently. "You have become callous," he said. "And unfeeling. I want to know why."

She paused for a moment's aloof consideration, as though his harsh words had not affected her in the least. As though the dull ache in her heart did not exist. "Perhaps, m'dear, it is you who have changed," she finally suggested. "Perhaps coming so near a tragic end has changed your perceptions of things. And people."

"Are you saying that you were always cold and … and uncaring?"

She laughed. "Not at all. I am saying that perhaps I never was quite the soppy little sentimentalist you apparently thought I was and that now you have realized this. I am sorry if the reality is a disappointment. But in my own defense, most men would not agree with you." She pouted slightly, fluttering her lashes. The boy flushed.

"Perhaps you are correct, Lady Fia," he said stiffly.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," Fia said, glad of the interruption.

Porter opened the door. "Lady Fia, I was—" He saw Pip and stopped. "I am inopportune—"

"Not at all," Fia said. "We are done, are we not, Pip?"

The boy began to protest and then thought better of it. "Yes. But I would like to say, ma'am, that I already know ‘the friend' with whom you will be traveling."

Fia's brows climbed. Since her proposed travel, as well as her travel companion, were completely imaginary, this was a most interesting turn of events. "Really?"

"Yes," the boy said gruffly. "And for the sake of that image of you I once held in my … in such esteem, I am duty bound to warn you against him."

"Do tell," she murmured. "And why is that?"

"Because Thomas Donne once claimed to be my friend and you can see for yourself how well he respected that relationship, since he used my injury to ingratiate himself with you and plans to go abroad with you!"

"Thomas Donne?" she repeated. "He told you he was leaving London with me?"

"No." Pip shifted uneasily on his feet but he did not recant his claim. "But he did say as how he would be leaving London for a few weeks. And when he came to see me whilst I was convalescing he spoke of you. I thought at the time his tone derisive and his manner disapproving but I see now that it only masked his real intent … to understand you better.

"I am not so stupid or callow, ma'am, that I cannot add two and two." He laughed bitterly, but he was not much good at it and his laughter broke. "And to think he had the temerity to warn me against you."

She recovered quickly. "Ah, yes, well. Men will commonly put their own interests above that of others. Even their friends'." For all Pip's jealous suspicions, Thomas's plan to leave London had nothing to do with her. She turned half away from Pip, aware of Porter standing with telltale silence on the threshold.

"Men?" Pip echoed sarcastically.

"And women, too, of course." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Ah … thank you for your concern."

He did not respond.

"I believe Porter had something of a private nature to impart to me." It was a dismissal and a not particularly kind one. Pip flushed and shoved his way past the butler.

Fia waited until she heard the sound of the front door slamming shut before saying wearily "What is it, Porter?

"I know it is not my place to try to discern the intentions of your friends and admirers, Lady Fia."

"Probably not," Fia agreed with a trace of irony.

"But I would be remiss in my duty if I were to suspect someone of perpetrating an unpleasantness on you and then neglected to warn you, would I not?"

"Oh, dear. Is this an ethical question, Porter? Because, if so, I gravely doubt I am qualified to answer it."

"Not at all, Lady Fia. I merely seek to ascertain your wishes."

"Ah, I see. Well, speaking for myself, yes, were you to suspect someone of a dastardly plan against me, I would certainly welcome being forewarned."

Porter nodded. "Then I must concur with Master Leighton's suspicion concerning Captain Donne."

Fia's ennui vanished. "Why?"

"Captain Donne came to call on you earlier today."

"What?" Fia said. "Why was I not informed of this?"

"Because Captain Donne specifically told the footman—a young fellow named Bob—not to bother you. The captain came early, far earlier than any society lady is likely to have arisen; indeed, earlier than many a woman in a simpler household rises. He asked to see you. When Bob said you were not yet receiving company, Captain Donne laughed with some embarrassment, alleging how chagrined he was at his eagerness to see you.

"At that point Bob marked Captain Donne down as another besotted swain. The captain then proceeded to ask him a number of questions about your habits: when you could most often be found at home, your daily routine, when you were most likely to be alone … that sort of thing."

Fia frowned. "And Bob told him?"

Porter winced slightly. "I am afraid so, Lady Fia. Captain Donne tipped him most handsomely and took his leave, asking Bob not to mention that he'd been here and explaining that it did nothing for a man's cause to have the lady suspect his eagerness. And Bob, a recently failed suitor himself, agreed.

"Bob only chanced to mention Captain Donne's appearance to me now because he saw Master Leighton come in and thought it odd that so many fellows were queuing up before luncheon. Bob's words, not, I assure you, mine."

"Of course," Fia murmured, her thoughts racing. She glanced down at the note James Barton had sent her the night before last. Then she had thought it merely James's natural wariness. But now …

"Milady?"

She looked up. Porter was waiting. Abruptly she came to a decision. "I thank you, Porter, for both your loyalty and your diligence. However much appreciated, your concern is unnecessary. I am planning on leaving London, you see. Possibly as soon as this very afternoon, but then again perhaps not. My plans are most liquid, you see, and contingent on another's whim. You may inform the staff."

Porter blinked once, but years of training stood him in good stead. "Of course, Lady Fia."

Fia was standing before her open wardrobe when Gunna came in bearing a tray laden with hot chocolate. The hunched woman looked around at petticoats, chemises, clocked silk stockings, and stomachers heaped on the bed, the chairs, the settee, and any other available surface in the room.

"You've gone daft, then," she said, nodding resignedly. "Well, no wonder. This city would drive a saint to sin and ye never were no saint, dearie."

"Hm?" Fia, her hand hovering above a silk faille underskirt, reached instead for the lisle print one beneath. "Oh, Gunna. Good."

Gunna set the tray on the dressing table. "What are ye doin', lass?"

Fia tossed four sets of stockings on the bed, frowned, and added another. "I'm preparing for my abduction."

"What?"

Hearing the amazement in Gunna's voice, Fia turned and smiled. It was seldom she managed to catch Gunna unaware. "My abduction," she repeated calmly, and glancing at the mantel clock, continued, "which ought to begin any time now."

Gunna did not return her smile. In fact, the exposed and crumpled side of her face looked decidedly grim. "Ye better explain, Fia. And it better be good."

"I don't have time."

"Ye better find time," Gunna pronounced tersely.

Fia didn't want to get into an argument with Gunna. The old Scotswoman would almost certainly win and, in winning, convince her to abandon the plan that had sprung full-blown in Fia's imagination when she realized that Thomas Donne planned to kidnap her in order to keep James Barton from her evil influence.

She did not want to abandon her plan. What better way to accomplish so many things? She would obey her father's directive and be absent during James's meeting with her father, which might help serve to explain James's—dear, honest James's—miserable mien at that conference. This way she could also keep Thomas from interfering with the plan and, last but not least, extract a bit of sweet revenge on that righteous Scot.

Fia opened her portmanteau and began stacking clothing. She must take care not to pack too much, lest Thomas's suspicions be awakened. She turned, her eye alighting on a particularly frivolous, feminine, and extremely provocative robe of violet tulle. There was definitely room for that.

"Fia …" Gunna's voice rose in warning.

She met Gunna's gaze levelly. "You are not to worry, Gunna. The purpose of this abduction is to keep me from seducing someone, not to be seduced."

"Ach!" the old woman exclaimed. "I'd never thought to see the day Lady Fia Merrick acted the gull."

"I'm not being gullible. Nor naive."

Gunna's one good eye peered at Fia. She was apparently satisfied with what she saw, for with a grunt she sank down onto the edge of the bed. "And who's this saint who's taken on the job of saving London's poor men from yer evil clutches?"

"Thomas Donne."

"Ach, no! Not that one! I'd soon as trust ye with a selkie. Ye've been smitten with him since ye were a lassie and I'll no have ye puttin' yerself in his hands."

"Gunna, dear."

"Don't ‘dear' me. Ye never got nuthin' from ‘dearin'' me as a lass and ye'll find it works no better now that yer a woman grown."

"All right, Gunna," Fia said, giving up her wheedling tone. "Here it is, then. You are going to have to trust me. If I leave with Thomas Donne I can make sure he doesn't ruin my plans. Plans that will see us back to Bramble House. Plans that will once and for all sever my father's influence over me. Over us." She didn't bother to tell Gunna about the proposed revenge.

Gunna scowled and stroked her seamed cheek with her narrow fingers. "I don't know.…"

"It makes perfect sense. It is perfectly reasonable."

Gunna slapped her knee. "All right. I'll go with ye."

"No! I mean, no. He'll never agree to taking you with me and … and you need to stay here with Kay. And Cora. She might appear just as suddenly as her brother." It was unfair to use Gunna's affection for the children. But Fia had never learned the art of fighting for what she wanted by fair means.

"Ah!" The old woman shook her head. "I don't like it. Ye don't know what that man is capable of."

"Not rape," she said with absolute conviction.

Gunna glanced at her sourly. "I was thinkin' he's not the sort that needs to force his way."

"He'll not have his way with me," Fia vowed. It did not seem to comfort the old woman greatly but at least she protested no more. And after Fia closed the latch on the portmanteau and set it to wait by the bedchamber door and Gunna had kissed her cheek and promised to watch out for Kay and finally left, Fia breathed the words she'd held in check.

"But I surely intend to have my way with him," she whispered.