“Mmm,” Lady Kerr’s voice rumbled sensually. “I do enjoy the darkness, but…”
Her voice trailed off as the sound of her footfalls replaced it. There was a scrape, the sound of stone striking stone, and thenpoof, a flame lit the end of a torch. Lady Kerr strode around the room lighting other torches with hers, before she placed it in its own ring mounted on the stone wall.
With the room brightened, it looked oddly more ominous than before. Rats skittered along the side of the walls, seeking shelter from detection, and a small heap of bones lay nestled in the corner.Lord, Gabe hoped it was an animal’s bones, deceased of natural causes.
“Now we may have a proper discussion.” Lady Kerr stood before Gabriel, her hands on her slender hips. “You must know by now who I am, and what I’ve done. But you have me at a disadvantage. Who areyou?”
Gabe suppressed a smile. All at once, two things became clear. One, Lady Kerr was unquestionably a traitorous spy working for Bonaparte, and two, she hadn’t any proof of Gabriel’s identity, merely suspicion. He must be convincing as an innocent and, with luck, she would be disabused of her assumption and Gabe’s identity would remain intact.
He had endured torture before—had trained for it, as a matter of fact—and he could certainly withstand questioning from Lady Kerr. “My name is Mr. Anthony Spencer, and I—”
Crack! Her hand connected with his cheek in a surprisingly painful slap.
“Try again,” she said.
“I am Anthony Spenc—”
Crunch! Her fist connected agonizingly with his nose, the awful sound echoing in his ears, before blood began to spurt from his face.Damn, had she knocked out a tooth?Gabe ran his tongue over his teeth the metallic zing of blood consuming his mouth. They were all still there.Thank God!
“Again,” she grunted.
Gabe again suppressed his grin. Instead he swallowed his pride and released a frightened whimper. “I am the youngest son of Sir Peter Spencer. I have—”
“Argh!” With a frustrated growl, Lady Kerr stormed to the dungeon door and opened it.
She stuck her head through the opening to speak briefly with her brute.
Gabe strained against the manacles to no avail. He might be able to stand, but with his ankles bound to the chair and his wrists tied behind him, he was at such a disadvantage that he would never win in combat against this madwoman. He was well and truly caught.
The door scraped closed once more and Lady Kerr returned with a weapon in each hand. She dropped a bullwhip to the ground several feet away before advancing on him with a six inch, fearsome-looking, blade.
“I believe this clothing is in the way.”
“I rather like it,” he said.
Her face darkened as she advanced. She took the knife to his coat, slitting the sleeve from his wrist to his shoulder. Bloody hell, she must be strong!
“That was a nice coat!” he said indignantly.
Ignoring him, she slit the other sleeve and pulled the mass of wool from his person. She proceeded to remove his waistcoat, holding within it the vital documents and the hairpins that could have so helped him at this moment. That thought brought another question to mind. She had discovered him outside her husband’s study; would she not have wondered if he had taken anything from within?
Lady Kerr tossed what was left of his coat and waistcoat across the dungeon to slide along the filthy floor. With a malevolent smile on her lips she leaned over him to press a punishing kiss to his tightly closed lips.
There was so much that was fundamentally wrong with his current dire situation, but one thing was certain: Lady Kerr was an abysmal kisser. Mary was far superior.
His eyes widened.Good God, Mary!
Had she been caught as well? Did she know of his capture? How did she fare? Did she worry? Had she heard the gunshot?
Gabe felt the scrape of something sharp against the under side of his chin, dragging him forcedly from his thoughts.
She pulled away from him, his cut, bloody cravat hanging loosely from her clenched fist and her face red with his blood.
“Mmm… I love the smell of a man’s blood.”
“That came from my nose,” he grimaced.
“Delicious…”
