“I…I am not sure I want to talk about it,” Amelia replied.
“It is not good to keep such an awful thing bottled up inside,” Jeannette said. “It helps if you talk about it.”
Caroline doubted Jeannette was all that sympathetic. More likely, she wanted all the titillating details. The other ladies were leaning forward in anticipation as well. Caroline felt her blood chill. Had the Midnight Marauder kissed Amelia the way he had kissedher? She could recall, in excruciatingly vivid detail, how his lips had felt—warm, firm, and demanding—and the slight taste of clove when his tongue had explored her mouth. And the way his strong arms had felt, pulling her against him, and then his hand tangling in her hair, holding her head in position… A shiver slid down Caroline’s spine, and she narrowed her eyes. Amelia certainly looked as though she had been thoroughly engaged in just such a situation.
“I…” Amelia dabbed at her eyes again. “That horrible man took my jewels!”
Her jewels? The Midnight Marauder had a reputation for giving ladies a choice. Caroline hadn’t been wearing jewelry the night he’d stopped her carriage, but had he decided to seduce Ameliaandtake her jewels, too? Evidently, the same question had crossed other minds.
One lady posed the question bluntly. “Did he kiss you first?”
“What was it like?” another asked before Amelia could answer.
“You must tell us everything,” a third one said.
“Yes, yes!” A fourth person spoke. “Everything.”
“The beast said I either hand over my precious sapphires—you know, the ones that match the color of my eyes—or he’d rip them off.” Amelia sniffed. “He spoke in French and then repeated it in English as though I wouldn’t understand what he said. I speak French fluidly—”
“But did hekissyou?” Jeannette asked.
In that moment, Caroline said a silent prayer of thanks that Jeannette had the tenacity of a bulldog. The woman wasn’t about to let this delicate bit of gossip slip away.
Amelia looked confused, whether because someone dared to interrupt her or because she wasn’t sure how to answer the question. Then she shook her head.
“He didnotkiss you?” Jeannette asked, still doggedly sticking to the subject.
“N…no.” Amelia lifted her chin. “I would certainly not allow someone like that to… to…”
“Kiss you,” Melanie finished for her and then looked at Amelia’s hair and clothing. “I must say, you do look rather mussed.”
Amelia’s chin went regally higher. “That is because I refused to give him my sapphires. I fought him off.”
Caroline let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Her—The—Midnight Marauder hadn’t kissed Amelia. It sounded like he hadn’t even offered her the choice. An odd little feeling of triumph flowed through Caroline, even though she knew it was completely silly to feel competitive over a kiss from a thief. But it had been such a potent kiss. Would Stephan kiss like that…?
Jeannette sat back, looking disappointed, then her eyes sparked. “Did the bandit do harm to the duke?”
Caroline stifled a snort. Obviously, Jeannette hadn’t taken a look at George in the hall. Not a strand of hair was out of place.
Amelia sniffed again. “My husband was outraged at such an affront to me, of course.”
Jeannette patted her hand. “We understand completely. What did His Grace do?”
Bless Jeannette. Caroline bit her lip to keep from laughing. The woman wasn’t about to give up until she had something to take home to gossip about. Caroline turned her gaze back to Amelia. It would be interesting to hear what she had to say. George was not exactly known for his heroic tendencies.
“There was little he could do, since a sword was held at his throat.” Amelia folded her hands in her lap and smiled coldly. “But when this highwayman is caught, rest assured that my husband will see to it that he is hanged.”
Hanged. The mirth that Caroline had been squelching suddenly disappeared. Assaulting a duke was a serious offense and George was not known to be particularly merciful, nor was Amelia the benevolent sort, especially since she’d lost her precious sapphires. The Midnight Marauder might very well hang.
He needed to be warned. If only she knew how to find him.
Chapter Thirteen
As the commotion in the entrance hall grew louder, Stephan followed the rest of the men out of the saloon. The women who surrounded Amelia were going into the drawing room, and he caught a glimpse of Caroline. She looked up, and he raised his hand in greeting but didn’t move toward her. The last thing he wanted was to be subjected to a nearly hysterical duchess. Besides, the scene unraveling in the entrance hall promised to be interesting since the Duke of Danworth was behaving in an undecidedly unducal manner. Stephan wished Brice were here to see it—or even better, Alex.
The duke was livid, his face nearly purple. He was practically spitting as he sputtered, not quite able to finish a sentence before starting another, of being overtaken by two dozen cutthroats and threatened with death while his wife was nearly abducted. He was just lucky to have been able to fight them off and escape with Amelia.
Stephan bit back a grin. George had always excelled at hyperbole, but he was exceeding even his former best efforts. There had been only five of them, including Stephan. While it was true his men had unsheathed their swords, there had been no threat of murder, and he had certainlynotattempted to abduct Amelia. Not that George had even lifted a finger to defend her. The duke was still spewing forth such nonsense when Prinny appeared in the entrance hall.
