Seduced at Midnight

'I didn't hurt you?'

'No.' Worry suffused her. 'Did I hurt you?'

A whiff of amusement entered his eyes. Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over hers. 'No. You were…' He lifted his head, and his gaze drifted slowly over her. When his eyes met hers once more all traces of humor were gone. 'Perfect,' he whispered. 'You were perfect. But-'

She laid her fingers on his lips, halting his words. 'Please don't say you're sorry this happened. Because I'm not.'

He lightly grasped her wrist and after pressing a quick kiss to her palm, moved her hand away. 'Very well, I won't say I'm sorry. But that doesn't change the fact that it shouldn't have happened.'

He abruptly sat up. Without ceremony he reached out and tugged up her bodice over her breasts that felt swollen and sensitive. Once she was covered, he stood then helped her do the same. She felt slightly unsteady on her feet and grasped the mantel for support.

Frowning, he bent down and scooped up her ripped drawers along with a handful of hairpins then shook his head. Muttered something that sounded very much like, What the bloody hell was I thinking? and raked his free hand through his hair. 'We need to set you back to rights,' he said in a low, urgent tone. 'Now. Before anyone comes-'

A low woof from the doorway chopped off his words. They both turned. Caesar was on his feet, staring intently down the corridor. Princess Buttercup stood beside him, giving her best imitation of a fierce growl. Above the canine noise Julianne heard the unmistakable sound of her mother's imperious voice.

'…cannot credit that such a disturbance occurred, Winslow.'

'You should have sent for us immediately.' Her father's icy words followed by his heavy footfalls crossing the foyer's marble floor sent her stomach careening toward her shoes.

In the blink of an eye Gideon shoved her ruined drawers inside his shirt, then plucked her up and set her on the settee where she landed with a bounce.

He tossed the hairpins onto her lap. 'Shove those into your hair,' he commanded in a low, taut voice. 'Doesn't matter if it's messy.'

Trying not to panic, she scooped up her tangled curls and stabbed in pins while he snatched up his waistcoat. He jabbed his arms through the openings and buttoned it with a steady-fingered dexterity she couldn't help but admire, especially as she was shaking all over.

As he shrugged into his jacket, he ordered, 'Swoon. And be damn convincing about it.'

Swoon? Why, she'd never swooned in her life! But one look at his tight expression had her understanding his command. She nodded and quickly arranged herself on the settee.

Peeking one eye open, she watched him stride across the room and lay a hand on Caesar, who stopped growling at his master's touch.

'Winslow, fetch some hartshorn,' Gideon called, his voice filled with urgency as he ran into the corridor. 'Quickly! Lady Julianne has fainted. Ah, Lady Gatesbourne, how fortunate you're here. I'm afraid I've little experience in these matters.'

Rapid footsteps approached. Julianne heard her mother gasp and her father mutter, 'Ridiculous, foolish gel.'

Seconds later Julianne's mother patted her cheeks in a none-too-gentle manner. 'What happened?' her mother asked in a sharp voice. 'Winslow told us in the foyer what occurred this evening but said Julianne seemed quite recovered.'

'She did,' Gideon said. 'We were drinking tea, and all seemed well, but when we began discussing the evening's events, she became agitated. Said something about feeling utterly limp, then just like that'-he snapped his fingers-'she went down like a tenpin. I tried to revive her, but she didn't respond. That's when I dashed into the corridor for Winslow.'

Just then Julianne heard a breathless Winslow rush into the room. 'Here's the hartshorn, my lady.'

Julianne had managed to remain unresponsive while her mother tapped her face, shook her shoulders, and rubbed her wrists, but one whiff of the powerfully unpleasant hartshorn had her nose twitching in protest. Putting on what she prayed was a convincing performance, she rolled her head from side to side, enough, she prayed, to explain her disheveled coif. Then she groaned and blinked her eyes open.

'She's come around,' her mother said, passing the hartshorn back to Winslow. 'Bring some damp cloths and a glass of water,' she instructed the butler who instantly departed to do her bidding. Her mother then turned her attention back to Julianne. 'Are you all right?'

Julianne blinked several more times then frowned. 'Of course, Mother. How are you?'

'Very well. However, I am not the one who swooned.'

Julianne widened her eyes. 'Swooned? Me?'

Mother nodded and pursed her lips. 'I'm afraid so.'

'Surely not. I never swoon.'

'Well, you did. If you could see yourself you'd know it's true.' Her mother's appraising gaze swept over her. 'You look a fright.'

Julianne raised her hand and slowly pushed back a wayward curl. 'How… distressing.' She cast her gaze around the room, noting her father's thunderous scowl, then looked at Gideon.

'Mr. Mayne. What are you doing here?'

Gideon's dark eyes gave away nothing. 'You don't recall?' Pressing her fingertips to her temple, Julianne puckered her brow. Then she nodded slowly. 'Yes… of course. How silly of me. We were drinking tea. Then suddenly I felt utterly limp.' Her gazed panned over everyone. 'And then all of you were staring at me.'

Winslow returned, and Julianne's mother placed a damp cloth on her forehead then helped her sit up and drink some water. After several sips her father asked, 'Are you recovered enough to walk, Julianne?'

'Yes, I believe so.'

'Good.' He turned to his wife. 'See that Julianne is settled in bed. I wish to speak to Mr. Mayne privately.'

Nerves jittered in Julianne's midsection at her father's words and frigid tone. Her gaze flew to Gideon, but his attention was fixed on her father.

'As the intruder tried to enter Lady Julianne's bedchamber via her balcony,' Gideon said, 'she should not sleep there until this man is apprehended. Given the intruder's apparent dexterity, there should be no balcony or trees near the window nor should it adjoin to a room with either. Lady Julianne indicated there was such a bedchamber two doors down from hers.'

'The blue guest room,' her mother murmured. 'Very well, I'll bring her there.' She turned to the butler. 'Winslow, see that the room is prepared.'

'Yes, my lady.'

Winslow departed, and with her mother's assistance, Julianne rose. When her mother attempted to take her arm, Julianne shook her head. 'Thank you, but I'm quite all right.'

In spite of Julianne's protest, her mother wrapped her fingers firmly around Julianne's upper arm. 'Let's not take any chances. After all, we can't risk you falling down and injuring yourself. Especially now.'

Julianne's insides curdled. Especially now. Yes-when her betrothal and marriage were imminent. Certainly couldn't have the bride sporting any bruises or a sprained ankle or broken leg.

Anxious to forestall any mention of her upcoming nuptials, she turned to Gideon and looked into those dark, fathomless eyes. 'Thank you for all you did for me this evening, Mr. Mayne. I'll never forget it.'