Gillian shivered in his arms.
Noble rallied his troops, explaining briefly to the staff that the danger to Gillian and possibly Nick had increased, and until further notice they were to maintain the utmost caution.
“No visitors, unless known to Lady Weston or myself, are to be allowed in,” he ordered as he paced before the line of servants. “No tradespeople will be allowed in the house for any reason. Likewise, servants from other houses, your personal friends and acquaintances, will be banned. Until we have the bastard responsible for the threats against Lady Weston locked away in gaol, your sole responsibility will be to see to her safety, and that of my son. Are there any questions?”
The line of footmen, butlers, and other male staff members shook their heads. Crouch raised his hook.
“Yes?”
“Eh, m’lord, what should we do if’er ladyship is desirin’ to leave the ’ouse?”
“I have informed Lady Weston that she will not leave the house except in my presence, or the presence of Lord Rosse.”
Crouch rubbed his chin with the curved part of his hook. “Beggin’ pardon, m’lord, but that didn’t stop ’er last time.”
Noble’s face was grim. “It will not happen again. Are there any other questions? No? Excellent. Is everyone armed?”
The row of men nodded. One of the footmen coughed and stepped forward.
“Yes, Dickon?”
“My lord, shouldn’t we have a watchword? Like in The Mysteries of Limehouse, where the watch captured an infamous band of pirates when they were spiriting away a group of young ladies for a sultan from a distant land, where they would be made slaves to his desire and forced to—”
“Yes, yes, I see your point, Dickon. Very well. We shall have a watchword. Any suggestions as to what it might be?”
“Testicle!” piped up Charles.
Noble frowned at him.
“ ’E means tentacle, m’lord. ’Ad ’is ’alf day yesterday and saw one of them octopantses at the zoological gardens.”
“No, I mean testicle,” argued Charles.
Noble considered his footman. “Is there any reason why you wish the watchword to be testicle, Charles?”
The young man sucked in his cheeks and bounced on the balls of his feet. “No, my lord.”
“Just like the word, do you?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Noble stopped pacing in front of the footman and narrowed his eyes at him. “There’s nothing you should have told me that you haven’t, is there, Charles?”
Charles’s eyes widened. “Me, my lord?” he squeaked.
“Mmm,” Noble said, giving him a close look, then continued his pacing. “Very well, our watchword is testicle. Should you encounter someone who does not answer your cry of ‘Halt, who goes there?’ with a snappy ‘testicle,’ you will restrain him and shout for assistance.”
“A lady wouldn’t say it,” Charles said.
Noble spun around to face the interruption. “What’s that?”
“You asked me if I had a reason for choosing the word testicle, my lord. I thought of one. A lady wouldn’t say it. Therefore, any lady villains we encounter wouldn’t say the watchword.”
“Er…quite right. Are there any other questions?”
“They’d say something else,” Charles said. Noble ignored him and gazed down the line of footmen.
“Like whirlygigs,” Dickon said with a nod. “That’s what my mum used to call them.”
“Dusters,” said Crouch. “Jenny Hills. Flowers and frolics.”
“Yes, quite. Are there any—”
“Gooseberries,” said one of the Runners.
“No, they’s jingleberries, they are,” said another.
Noble rubbed his still-aching head. The pain seemed to be increasing again.
“Les accessories,” said Tremayne Two in a perfect French accent.
“Orchestra stalls,” offered Crouch.
“Twiddle-diddles. A lady would surely say twiddle-diddles,” Charles suggested, looking up as the door opened. “Oh, my lady, could you answer a question? If you were asked to say the word—”
“Charles!” Noble bellowed. “That will be all! You are dismissed, all of you.”
“If I was asked to say what word?” Gillian asked as the footmen filed out. Noble glared at the men and dared them to answer her.
“Whennymegs,” Crouch muttered as he closed the door behind him.
Gillian turned to Noble. “Whennymegs? Oh, testicles. What about them? Are yours all right, my lord?” She turned her attention to the front of Noble’s buckskins, concern writ across her face. “Did you damage them last night? You were quite enthusiastic, husband, but I thought everything looked hale and hearty this morning. Shall I check them for you?”
She started reaching for the buttons on his breeches. Noble caught her hand. “Everything is fine there, thank you. Did you do as I asked?”
“Yes, the ladies are gone, but really, Noble, you were quite rude, not even staying to chat. They do know you, and seem very fond of you. I think it would have been only polite if you had stayed to talk with them, find out how they’re doing, who they’re mistressing for, that sort of thing. Why, Laura had quite nice things to say about her time with you—”
Noble grabbed Gillian by the arms and pulled her up against him, ending the discussion the only way he thought would be effective. Gillian look bemused when he released her from the kiss, but he noted the sparkle in her eye was in no way diminished.
“And Anne said you were the best lov—”
He kissed her longer this time, deeper, dipping his tongue in and out of her mouth in a suggestive manner. She moaned into his mouth. He lifted his head and smiled smugly at her. She blinked several times, then touched a finger to his lips. “So soft, and yet so very demanding,” she whispered, and gave herself a little shake. “Just how Beverly described—”
“Madam!” Noble roared in mock fury, shaking Gillian slightly. “You will cease this unseemly conversation!”
She giggled, then slowly the happy glow faded from her face. She placed a hand on his chest. “Noble, we must talk. About this morning — I know you are angry with me, and I appreciate you not lecturing me about interfering with your plans, but you were acting so very foolish, and I simply had to take steps. I couldn’t allow you to face Lord Carlisle, not when there was the chance that he would harm you, or even kill you. You do understand that I did it for your own good, don’t you?”
Noble stared at her with increasing bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”
Gillian blushed. “I can see you are being kindhearted by pretending it didn’t happen, but I assure you, my darling husband, I am ready to hear your lecture.”
Noble frowned. “What exactly did you do for my own good that had to do with Lord Carlisle? You haven’t had time to see him.” He looked around the library in mock suspicion. “I don’t see him lurking in the corner, so you couldn’t have invited him here as you are wont to do with people I’d rather not see. What is it you’ve done, wife?”
Gillian watched his expression closely. God’s knuckles, he honestly didn’t seem to be upset. Would she ever understand his moods? “I wasn’t planning on telling you, but now I think perhaps it wouldn’t upset you, as I had previously thought. I had him…that is to say, I ordered that Crouch and three of the Runner footmen…it was for your own good, you know, and solely to help you save face, so I don’t think you should commence scowling in that manner, husband.”
Noble counted to ten. “What did you do?”
“I had Lord Carlisle kidnapped.”
Noble sank down into the nearest available chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Why?” Even thinking the word made his head hurt worse.