The Wicked Spy (Blackhaven Brides Book 7) Page 9

She stood. “I’m going to show Sir Lytton your gardens,” she told Serena.

  “Take my sisters as chaperones,” Serena said at once, her eyes gleaming. “As once they were mine.”

  Tamar laughed, and Anna was briefly distracted by this window into their courtship. She had grown used to the idea that Rupert and Serena liked each other, but courtship and marriage she had always found distasteful.

  The girls were delighted to accompany them, having formed a liking for “Sir Lytton”. Maria even blushed when he spoke to her.

  “Where shall we go?” Helen asked as they emerged from the front door and descended the steps.

  “Wherever you like. You know your own home better than either Sir Lytton or I.”

  “I doubt that,” Alice observed. “You have been out and about so much since you arrived, I suspect you know the land better than any of us now!”

  As the girls moved ahead, leading them toward a walled orchard, Anna felt his sardonic gaze on her face.

  “I was looking for you,” she said with dignity. “I was afraid you would die after you vanished from the shepherd’s hut.”

  “I probably would have if you hadn’t sewn me up.”

  “And still you don’t trust me,” she said bluntly.

  His lips twisted. “I am an escaped enemy of your country with secrets I am unwilling to share. Why would I trust anyone in such circumstances?”

  “Because they did sew you up and kept all your damned secrets,” Anna retorted.

  His lips stretched. “Why Anna, I believe I have hurt your feelings.”

  “You would have if I had any.”

  “It’s a good role you play, but you needn’t bother for me. I see beneath it.”

  She pushed down the panic, for she didn’t put such perception past him. “To what?” she asked mockingly. “Some poor, delicate, helpless lady?”

  “Not helpless. And we both know there is a lot more to you than that. Besides, you may have noticed I am already trusting you. You could expose me at any time, and yet here I am.”

  “Then you need my help after all? In what? Escaping England?”

  “Oh, no, I have an arrangement with a free-trading captain, introduced to me by an individual known somewhat indiscreetly as Smuggler Jack. He claims to have retired.”

  “And where did you encounter such upstanding members of Blackhaven society?”

  “In the town tavern. Which is quite a den of vice.”

  “And when do you sail?”

  “In a day or so, maybe,” he said vaguely.

  “I thought you were afraid to go home.”

  “I shan’t go home. I’ll go to the Isles de la Manche. Or to Ireland, perhaps, and from there to the Americas. Who knows?”

  She searched his eyes, genuinely afraid he was slipping away from her in every way. And made a discovery. “You’re lying. Again. You’re not going anywhere. You know the soldiers are still watching the smugglers.”

  “I’m not sure they watch them very well—not those coming in at any rate. There is another Frenchman in Blackhaven.”

  “In the tavern?”

  “He is too well dressed for the tavern. Nor does he stay at the hotel.”

  She frowned. “Why are you telling me this? Is he a friend?”

  “Not to me. He has come to kill me.”

  A week ago, neither the news nor the word kill would have disturbed her. She looked away. “Let me take you to safety,” she pleaded, and God help her, she meant it.

  “To your friends who are so interested in my secrets? No, I thank you.”

  “Then what will you do?” she demanded.

  He raised one eyebrow. “I shall kill him.”

  She shivered, chilled by the casual certainty in his voice. “Does there have to be killing?”

  “Apparently so. But if not at the hotel, where else would such a man stay? Where would he go?”

  “He could have hired rooms, or a whole house anywhere in the town,” Anna said. “Many people do. As to where he would go, there are a limited number of entertainments in Blackhaven. Gentlemen do slum it at the tavern on occasion, I’m told. The coffee house opposite the hotel is popular. Otherwise, there is really only the hotel itself, the theatre, the pump room, the art gallery, and the assembly rooms…”

  She broke off, her eyes widening. “Do you think he could have been at the masquerade ball?”

  “It is possible, though I would not have expected him to be in the country so soon. I wasn’t looking for him. I could have missed him.”

  She frowned. “Then you know him?”

  “Oh, I know him.”

  She shivered. “You are quite…frightening, you know.”

  He met her gaze. “But I don’t frighten you, do I, Anna?”

  You do. God help me, you do. Before she could answer, they were interrupted by the girls, dragging them out of the orchard again. They wished to walk around the other side of the castle to show “Sir Lytton” the best sea views.

  *

  A couple of hours later, once changed for dinner, Anna was walking along the gallery to the drawing room when, through the open door of the library, she glimpsed Louis.

  His back to her, he was gazing along the shelves nearest the fireplace. Soundlessly, she walked in.

  “Your brother-in-law appears to be interested in politics,” Louis observed, without turning.

  “I believe he is,” Anna replied, moving further into the room. “How did you know I was here?”

  Louis glanced over his shoulder. “I heard the faint rustle of your skirts. And your scent is unmistakable.”

  “I hope that is a compliment.”

  “I thought you didn’t care for such.”

  “As a rule, I don’t. In this case, the alternative is unthinkable. I shall assume the compliment and move on. Are you not interested in politics, too? Isn’t everyone in these times?”

  “I don’t see the point. People corrupt even the best of political ideals.”

  “People,” she repeated. “Do you mean Bonaparte?”

  “The Emperor Napoleon,” he mocked. “Who came to power believing in liberty, equality, and fraternity. And what did we achieve? Military dictatorship, constant war, the death of thousands, and an emperor instead of a king.”

  “Then you are not a Bonapartist?” she said carefully.

  “I was once.” Just for an instant, there was sadness in his voice that tugged at her heart. And then his lips twisted in self-mockery. “Ardently so. But I want the best for my country and my countrymen. I don’t believe that is the emperor any longer. A purist might say he betrayed the revolution that allowed him to rise to power. Certainly, he is now leading France into disaster and defeat.”

  “Everyone says the war is almost over.”

  “I expect it is. We have been kicked out of Russia and Spain. The whole of Europe is allied against us. Even he cannot win against such odds.”

  “Even he,” she repeated. “Did you fight in his army?”

  He shrugged. “I have done.”

  “But you are not Captain L’Étrange.”

  “My rank is higher, but it is largely honorary.”

  “Because you are noble?” she asked, doubtfully.

  A breath of laughter escaped him. “There is nothing noble about me, in rank or nature. I am an orphan brat recruited from the streets of Paris.” He paused, as though searching her face for signs of disgust or scorn. He shrugged. “I thrived in the new France, on liberty and equality if not so much on fraternity. And now we shall lose and no doubt be forced to take back the king we deposed more than twenty years ago. There will be an unseemly grab for land and wealth and power all over again.”

  “Do you have land in France?” she asked curiously.

  “Yes. I am considered a wealthy man. Does it help you warm to me?”

  “No, since you’re about to lose it.”

  He laughed and inclined his head. “Well said.” He advanced until he stood facing her, close enough to touch. �
��Why do you help me, Anna?”

  “Why do you think?” she countered.

  “Perhaps compassion, as you said. And perhaps you seek danger for the thrill, just to feel something.”

  She couldn’t help the twitch of her frown, but she refused to let him see how close he came to truth. “Is such a reason compatible with compassion?” she wondered.

  “People do things for all sorts of contradictory reasons. Whatever yours are, I thank you.”

  Warmth seeped into her face. She could think of nothing to say. She liked the way his hard eyes softened as he gazed down at her. He raised his hand slowly, brushing his fingertips against her cheek, her hair. She didn’t flinch. On the contrary, her skin seemed to sing under his tender touch. She almost leaned into his hand to prolong the caress.

  “We could have been friends, you and I,” he murmured.

  “If we were not enemies?” she managed. “Does that matter?”

  A smile flickered across his lips. “Not to me.”

  For an instant, she could not breathe. And then the arguing voices of the young ladies could be heard coming along the gallery.

  Louis turned aside, offering his arm, and she laid her fingers on his sleeve before walking out the door with him and across the gallery to the drawing room. It was only later, as she relaxed into the general laughter and banter, and met Louis’s humorous gaze across the room, that her stomach jolted with fright.

  What is happening to me? After everything, is he seducing me?

  Chapter Eight

  Forewarned was forearmed, and Anna resolved to use the genuine closeness forming between them to win him over. Such had always been her plan, after all. She just hadn’t expected any actual feeling to be involved on her side. What the feeling was, she had no clear idea. It was new and oddly delightful and seemed to provide something of the same excitement she found in risk. Well, he presented just a little more danger than the previous tasks she had undertaken for Henry, so perhaps that explained it.

  At any rate, when Serena mentioned they might attend the theatre the following evening, his gaze immediately fell on Anna.

  “My mother took a box there when it first opened,” Serena explained. “Just to support it, you understand. I don’t believe she has been there once! It doesn’t have the best-known players, of course, but we have spent a few enjoyable evenings there.”

  “I shall do my best to look in,” Louis murmured.

  It gave Anna something to look forward to the following day, but before the evening trip to the theatre, there came a curious incident involving Mrs. Elphinstone.

  Lady Braithwaite had granted the governess leave every second Saturday, and every Monday afternoon. And this Monday, she had chosen to take herself to the nearest port town of Whalen. The larger ships all put in there, and in fact, even five years ago, before Blackhaven’s expansion, it had been the most notable town along this part of the coast. So, for a lady used to the hustle and bustle of London, it was not an unexpected choice of visit.

  However, she returned early, much to the clear annoyance of the Braithwaite under coachman, who had no doubt looked forward to an entire afternoon in Whalen. Anna saw her agitated arrival from the library window, all but leaping from the carriage without waiting for the steps to be let down and vanishing up the front steps.

  A moment later, Mrs. Elphinstone’s voice could be heard demanding to know Lord Tamar’s whereabouts. Intrigued, Anna went to track him down, and found him with Serena in the drawing room, only a few moments before the governess’s precipitous arrival.

  “My lord!” she exclaimed, panting and barely pausing to curtsey. “My lady. I have important news and I am at a loss as to whom I should tell!”

  “Begin with us,” Serena encouraged. “We love news.” Her flippant manner was lost on Mrs. Elphinstone, who was clearly too disturbed to notice such nuances.

  “I have seen him!” the governess announced dramatically.

  Anna exchanged glances with her brother and Serena. “Seen whom?” she asked, when no one else did.

  “Him! The one they all seek, the French prisoner who escaped the Black Fort.”

  That certainly drew everyone’s attention. Anna’s stomach twisted as she stared at the governess. But her outward reaction was no doubt similar to Serena’s and Rupert’s.

  “Where?” Rupert demanded. “How do you know it was him?”

  “Well, I didn’t, at first. It was only later it came to me…I was walking around the harbor area, admiring the ships, and stopped to look at the wares in the nearby street market. I struck up a conversation with a woman there. And almost as soon as I moved on, a man came to me and asked me in French if I would buy him passage on a ship sailing to America.”

  “Did he, by God?” Rupert said, interestedly.

  “He did. And when I suggested he buy it himself, he told me his English was not good enough. Of course, I was immediately suspicious it was some trick or other to part me from the few coins in my purse, so I merely held it tighter and hurried away. And only then did it strike me.”

  She paused, as though for dramatic effect. “He could be a fugitive. He could be the prisoner everyone is looking for!”

  “He could at that,” Tamar agreed, far too interested to please Anna. “I think we should probably send to the fort and Major Doverton. And to Winslow, too. What did he look like, your Frenchman?”

  “Tall.” Mrs. Elphinstone shuddered. “Dirty fair hair poking out from under a floppy, wide-brimmed hat. He was not ill-looking, just very furtive. Oh, and he wore a torn leather coat.”

  Anna’s eyes fixed on the governess’s face. Was she lying? Why would she? This made no sense to Anna, for while it was perfectly possible that Louis had gone to Whalen, it was highly doubtful he would have done so in his highwayman’s disguise. Was this the other Frenchman Louis had mentioned? Coincidentally resembling Louis’s highwayman? Dubious.

  “Come, Mrs. E.,” Tamar said cheerfully, striding to the door. “We had better call on Major Doverton at the barracks. Have tea without me, my dear,” he threw over his shoulder at Serena. “I’ll be back in time to escort you to the theatre.”

  *

  Anna again donned the silver-grey gown and joined her brother and sister-in-law to go to the play in Blackhaven. As they took their seats in the Braithwaite box, she was already searching for Louis in the rows of boxes and the seats in the pit. She kept her anxiety hidden but she could not banish the fear that Mrs. Elphinstone’s information might have led to Louis’s capture. Even though she could not quite believe the information.

  The governess’s motives eluded her, but the woman was French by birth and she bore watching.

  Rupert said Doverton and Winslow were taking the information seriously and had moved their patrols from Blackhaven to Whalen. It made sense in many ways, since from Whalen, Louis could easily take ship directly to Ireland, America, or anywhere else he chose.

  Only, Anna was sure he had no intention of going. Not yet. And never if she won him over.

  The theatre was like a miniature of those Anna had attended in London, and because of its size, it created an atmosphere of coziness that made her slightly uncomfortable. Acquaintances from the other boxes bowed and smiled to her, a civility she returned, just as if there was not only one face she wished to see.

  In the pit, sat men and women of the lower orders, cheek-by-jowl with several young gentlemen, including Mr. Banion, who, quizzing glass raised to his eye was searching the boxes with more open fervor. He dropped the glass to smile and bow when he came to Anna and Serena.

  “He does pay you particular attention,” Serena murmured.

  “I cannot imagine why.”

  “You are new here, and beautiful, and no doubt you pique his desires by appearing to be unaware of his existence.”

  Anna cast her a cynical glance. “But I am the worst of all possible worlds. I combine the highest birth with the lowest income—none at all—and a scandalous upbringing. Trust me, he is
not considering marriage!”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Serena murmured. “I more than considered marriage with Tamar, after all.”

  “Tamar is a man,” Anna pointed out.

  “I am,” Rupert agreed, catching the tail-end of their conversation. “Everyone agrees on that.”

  The curtain went up on stage and most of the theatre quieted as the farce began. A few minutes later, the curtain dividing their box from the passage outside, swished. The hairs on the back of Anna’s neck prickled. She knew before she turned that Louis had entered the box, and sheer relief swamped her. Her smile of welcome was spontaneous and the answering glimmer lit his eyes before he moved to formally greet Serena.

  Anna’s excitement had little to do with the play as he pulled a chair up and sat behind her, in the relative gloom by the right-hand curtain.

  “You are a creature of the shadows,” she mocked.

  “I am. And I don’t want to give those officers down there any help to recognize me.”

  “Are they from the fort?” Anna asked quickly.

  “One of them is.”

  She lowered her voice further. “Were you in Whalen today?”

  “No, why?”

  “What did you do with the highwayman’s coat?” she breathed.

  “I buried it,” he said unexpectedly.

  Could someone else have found it? Or was Mrs. Elphinstone leading the authorities on a wild goose chase? Improbable. Instead, it was far more likely that Anna had just grown too suspicious. Mrs. Elphinstone had been accosted by a suspicious Frenchman and possibly endowed him unconsciously with the escaped prisoner’s description. The important thing was that he was here and free. And in spite of everything, Anna’s spirits soared.

  She turned her slightly breathless attention back to the stage and soon even found herself laughing. Everything, from the play to the danger still presented by the officers in the audience, seemed to be heightened by his presence.

  Then, he leaned forward abruptly, his breath stirring her ear. “Who is the man in the natty puce waistcoat? In the pit, just behind the girl with orange hair.”

  Anna looked down. “That is Mr. Banion. Serena thinks he admires me.”