Mistress - Amanda Quick [58]
Iphiginia smiled weakly. “I am not going anywhere.”
“No,” Marcus agreed grimly. “And I do not believe that you will be going anywhere again at night without me.”
It took nearly fifteen minutes for Marcus to break the lock on the monument gate. When it finally came apart in his hands, he tossed the hammer and chisel to Dinks.
“Here, take these.”
“Yes m’lord.” Dinks took charge of the tools.
Marcus jerked open the gate. He started into the passageway but halted abruptly as Iphiginia flew out of the grotto.
He braced himself when he realized that she was heading straight toward him.
“Marcus.”
Deep satisfaction swept through him when she hurled herself into his arms. He caught her and held her very tightly until she stopped shivering.
“Hell and damnation, woman. Do not ever, ever do this to me again,” he growled into her hair. Then he looked at Dinks over the top of her head. “Let us be off.”
“Ye won’t get any argument from me, m’lord.” Dinks wrinkled his nose as he surveyed the sepulchral grotto. “Don’t much fancy hanging around a graveyard at any time, let alone at three in the mornin’.”
Iphiginia raised her head and looked at Marcus and Dinks. “Thank you both,” she whispered. “I shall always be grateful.”
“Not at all, m’lady.” Dinks tipped his hat. “Not at all. I’ve been in his lordship’s employ for nearly ten years now. Don’t generally see this sort of excitement. Kind o’ livens things up a bit.”
“Come.” Marcus took a firm grip on Iphiginia’s arm. “We have wasted enough time in this damnable place.”
He hurried Iphiginia down a long row of brooding tombstones, out through the cemetery gates, and into the carriage. When he had her safely seated inside, he looked up at Dinks.
“Number Five, Morning Rose Square.”
“Aye, m’lord.”
Marcus got into the carriage and sat down across from Iphiginia. He reached out to close the curtains and then he leaned back to study Iphiginia’s face in the lamplight. Her eyes were still too shadowed, but other than that, she appeared to be surprisingly fit, considering the ordeal she had just endured.
For an instant he allowed himself to savor again the good feeling he’d experienced a few minutes earlier when she’d flown into his arms. Then his anger blossomed once more.
“Iphiginia, your activities tonight constitute, beyond a doubt, the most inexcusably reckless, thoughtless, brainless adventure I have had occasion to witness in longer than I can recall. You claim to be an intelligent female. Pray tell, what intellect was involved in this night’s work?”
“Marcus—”
“Damnation, what the devil did you think you were about?”
She winced. “Do you make a practice of lecturing all of your mistresses in such an unpleasant fashion?”
“No, madam, I do not,” Marcus said through his teeth. “But then, I have never had a mistress such as yourself.”
Her lips curved slightly and some of the sparkle reappeared in her eyes. “You mean you have never had a mistress-in-name-only?”
“No, I have not. And considering that you are merely masquerading as my mistress, I think I have a right to feel somewhat imposed upon. Christ, Iphiginia, you gave me a bad time tonight. How in God’s name did you wind up locked in that bloody monument?”
“I assume that you have spoken to Amelia?”
“Miss Farley was the one who told me where I would find you.”
“Then you know that the instructions in the blackmail note were clear. I was to leave the money inside the grotto.”
“Yes.”
“Someone came to the gates and locked them after I had gone inside,” Iphiginia said quietly.
Marcus stilled. Then he leaned forward. “You actually saw this person?”
“For all the good it did. He wore a hooded cloak, just as I did. I saw nothing of his face. I’m not even certain that it was a man.” Iphiginia reached inside the pocket of her gray cloak. “Whoever it was left this on the floor of the grotto.”
Marcus took the note from her hand and read it quickly. “A threat.”
“Yes. Obviously he or she knew I was not Aunt Zoe.”
“Then the bastard knows far too much.” Marcus refolded the note. He glanced