Moreham shook himself and forced the thoughts of kissing Gillian again from his mind. She was right of course. It was time to deal with the issue at hand.
“Whitney and his friends won’t have a chance against trained assassins.”
Gillian grabbed his hands. “What if Uncle and his friends were not the men at the abbey? What if we traded places with the gentlemen? Uncle and his friends could leave the house for the abbey. We could meet them at the fork in the road and take their places. We could overpower the attackers.”
Moreham couldn’t believe his ears.
The woman was completely mad!
He took a deep breath before speaking. He forced himself to speak softly. Shouting would only bring some curious or well-meaning soul to investigate.
He shouldn’t have been surprised by Gillian’s intention to be at the abbey. She had been adamant about being a part of the investigation from the beginning. He was the one who had thought he could nudge her into the background. A nice safe place where there was no fear of bullets or knives being utilized.
He had known her long enough to know she would not acquiesce to his wishes and remain at the manor with Isadora. He had to convince her. She was invaluable in keeping Isadora from following Whitney to the abbey. For now, he would let her think she had been successful in convincing him to allow her to accompany them to the abbey. He raised his hands in surrender.
Gillian clapped her hands and laughed. “Moreham, I will be good, I promise. I will do exactly what you and Cross tell me to do. There is a trunk of old clothes in the attic. I’ll go up in the morning and find a pair of buckskins for me to wear. You won’t regret taking me along.”
With her nestled in his arms and her warm breath tickling his neck, Moreham tightened his hold on Gillian. “Dearest, you are forgetting your aunt. She could be a target as well. Someone must stay behind and protect her. Your aunt has kept to her rooms today. While we both know she cares little for Lady Philly, she is still the hostess and should have joined her guests. It falls to you to remain behind to keep an eye on her. You said so yourself, there are new faces among the household staff. Any one of those new servants could be an inside man for the conspirators.”
Moreham mentally patted himself on the back. He may have only known his unconventional bride for less than a sennight, but he knew she would not refuse him. She would see the logic in remaining behind to guard her aunt. At least, he hoped she would.
Gillian bit down on her lip and frowned. He rather enjoyed the sight of her ferreting out the error of his logic. Gillian grunted and nodded.
“Very well, you win. I will remain behind. You are correct. We must see to Aunt Isadora’s safety. And yes, keeping to her rooms is very unlike her. Even when she joined us for dinner tonight, she was far too quiet for my liking.”
With Gillian’s agreement, Moreham felt some of the weight of their dilemma lift from his shoulders.
He reached for Gillian and held her tight. “My dearest, you are so precious to me. You cannot appreciate how much I value you. Once we run these fiends to ground, we must talk.”
Before Gillian could reply, the doors swung open and Cross entered.
“Whitney has sought his bed. The man is exhausted.”
“Well, what is your plan?” Cross inquired.
“We will take the places of Colchester and Roberts and go to the abbey in their place with Whitney.”
“What if the gentlemen are known to one of the traitors?”
“Whitney will depart the manor with his guests, and we will rendezvous with them at the old gatekeeper’s cottage between here and the abbey.”
“Your countess?” Cross questioned with a nod to Gillian.
“I have agreed to remain behind. My husband is correct in someone must stay behind to watch over my aunt.”
“Gillian will guide us to the gatekeeper’s cottage in the morning. It would not do to lose our way. Once we return, we will stay to ourselves until dinner.”
Cross moaned. “Dinner with a group of sycophants? I’d hoped to avoid such.”
“We must continue as if nothing is amiss. Colchester and Roberts will not be appraised of the situation until we meet at the cottage. To do otherwise could tip off our enemies, especially if one of the gentlemen is one of their number.”
Cross agreed then retired for the night. Moreham remained by the fire. With Gillian still with her uncle, he appreciated a few moments alone to deal with the myriad of emotions Gillian, their marriage and their mission created.
Prior to Gillian entering his life, he’d received assignments from Philly and orchestrated plans his friends had assisted him in executing. All had been so simple then. Now, nothing was certain for any of them. At every turn they’d been thwarted from success. It was time to turn the tables and end this.
Chapter 17
“Your Grace, dinner is served.”
Perkins’ voice broke through the drone of conversation in the drawing room. Everyone moved to pair up for the processional into the dining room. Aunt Isadora turned to take the Earl of Colchester’s arm.
Gillian braced herself for her aunt’s reaction to the sight of her standing with her husband. A glaring breach of protocol. Moreham should have been escorting Roberts’ wife into dinner but refused to release Gillian’s hand. Cross ever the gentleman stepped forward and escorted the viscountess. Gillian smothered a chuckle at the ferocious look her husband cast in his best friend’s direction. A definitive faux pas, but Moreham was a law unto himself.
The duchess favored both Gillian and Moreham with a somber
