“Let me guess,” Sebastian said dryly. “She perpetrated the kidnapping plot to extract some wealth before she went on her merry way?”
The fellow flushed. “So it would seem. Several months after the ransom was paid, she was seen traveling, quite in style, across Europe. Men were sent after her. A few more clues were found, but she never was.”
“So what exactly does the duke want? His wife, his money, or both?”
“The money isn’t important.”
“If that’s the case, why wasn’t more expended in finding her? It sounds like he didn’t really want her back.”
“Frankly, sir, I must agree with you,” the fellow confided. “I would have devoted more effort myself if she were my wife and I’d yet to produce an heir.”
Sebastian sat back, somewhat surprised, though his expression remained inscrutable. He waited for the man to clarify his statement. He did appear slightly nervous now, after saying it.
“That is not to say that a great deal of effort has not already been made in the search. But the duke is a busy man. He has not spent every moment of these last years actively pursuing the matter. Now, however, he has become obsessed with finding her so he can divorce her and remarry.”
“Ah, finally to the heart of the matter.”
The fellow flushed, and his nod was so slight it was almost imperceptible. His nervousness was understandable now. He was saying things his employer wouldn’t like him to reveal.
“When he heard you were in town, his hopes soared. Your reputation of success, no matter how difficult the job, has preceded you. He has every confidence that you will find his wife and bring her home.”
“If I take the job.”
“But you must!” the fellow began, then amended, “Or does it seem too difficult a task, even for you?”
Sebastian didn’t take the bait. “I don’t particularly like jobs that deal with women. I also haven’t finished my last job, am on my way to France now to do that.”
“But that is not a problem,” the fellow assured him with some relief. “This job will take you in that direction. A brief detour would be quite permissible.”
“That’s where the duke’s wife was last seen, in France?”
“The trail led there, and beyond. The duke’s arm is far-reaching. Putting a great distance between herself and Austria appears to have been her priority during her escape.”
“Did she head to the Americas?”
“No—at least we pray not. And a woman of her description took ship to Portsmouth at the time. The last report we had was that she took ship again, but only farther up the coast of England. Another ship was available, to North America, but since she didn’t take that one, we concluded she decided to settle in England under an assumed name. There were no further reports. Every other man who was sent there to find her has never returned.” And then the fellow whispered, “It’s my guess they were afraid to return to the duke with only failure to report.”
Having heard enough, Sebastian stood up to leave. “I am afraid I will have to decline after all,” he said, a coldness having entered his tone. “England is one place I will never go. Good day.”
He expected the man to try and stop him again. He didn’t, probably because he realized it wouldn’t do any good. Just as well. Jobs that dealt with women had an extra level of difficulty. On every single one he’d taken, the female involved had tried to seduce him.
John found it amusing, hilariously so, claiming that Sebastian was too handsome to be a mercenary. Sebastian disagreed. It was his reputation, the sinister persona of The Raven, and his indifference to the women that created the problem. He believed in putting the job before pleasure. But the women felt differently. Intrigued by him, they saw no reason to wait until the job was finished to become intimately acquainted with him. Which is where the added difficulty came in.
He had an ingrained sense of duty, which was probably why he excelled at his chosen occupation. Anything that deviated from getting the job done was to be avoided. Anything that distracted him was to be avoided as well. And a woman trying to seduce him was a definite distraction. He might not call himself an Englishman anymore, but he was still a man. So it really was just as well that he couldn’t accept the duke’s job.
Chapter 2
H IS HEAD HURT. That was the first thing Sebastian noticed as he woke. The second, and more disturbing, was his surroundings, not the cozy room at the inn where he’d gone to sleep last night, but a dark, musty dungeon. He was in a cell. Torchlight passed through the small barred window on the wooden door, revealing a hard-packed dirt floor, a clean chamber pot in the corner, and bugs crawling in and out of cracks in the stone walls.
It was an airless, medieval room but it was in better condition than his own dungeon, which indicated it was frequently used. He’d been in prisons before, but modern ones, never an actual, authentic dungeon. He’d seen the old fortress on the hill overlooking Felburg, so he knew exactly where he was.
“Bloody hell.”
He’d mumbled, but in the absolute silence of the place, it had sounded more like a shout, and he got an immediate response. “Is that you, sir?” John called out, from which direction Sebastian couldn’t guess.
Sebastian moved to the door, but before he could answer, Timothy’s frightened voice came from his far left. “Raven, I don’t like it here. Really I don’t. Can we leave now?”
The boy, too? That was going too far. He knew why he was there. It wasn’t the first time someone had tried to force him to work for him. The last time he’d been inside a cell had been for the same reason. Bastards thought alike.
“Did they hurt you, Timothy?”
“No, not much,” the lad answered, trying to sound brave now. “They stuffed something in my mouth and tied me up to carry me here. I’ve been awake all night.”
“What about you, John?” Sebastian asked.
“A small lump on my head, sir,” John said, his voice coming from the right. “It’s nothing.”
It wasn’t nothing. Injury to himself he could stomach, but when his people were hurt in order to get to him…
Sebastian didn’t get angry often, but this was one of those times. He stood back, lifted his foot, and kicked at the door in front of him. It didn’t budge, not even a little, though he’d certainly knocked the dust off of it. It probably wasn’t as old as the stone it was attached to.
He inspected the room more closely. There was a stand with a tin water pitcher and bowl, a towel folded on its single shelf. The water was fresh. The bedding was clean on the narrow cot, fine linen, actually. The plate of food that had been slid under the door had probably been appetizing before the bugs found it: eggs, sausage, bread with butter, melted now, and several pastries.
Apparently the intent wasn’t to deprive him, merely to keep him from leaving. A forced guest, as it were. But for how long? Until he agreed to find the missing duchess? As if he wouldn’t disappear the moment he was out of this dungeon, no matter an agreement or not?
The fellow who brought their next meals was mute or pretended to be. He wouldn’t say a word or answer a single question. The day wore on, long and boring. Sebastian spent his time exercising and imagining his hands around Leopold Baum’s neck. John and Timothy played word games. On opposite sides of the dungeon, they were soon hoarse.
The evening meal arrived and still there was no communication from their host. Dumplings and fried veal cutlets with a creamy cheese sauce was the tempting fare, very filling, very typical of Austrian cuisine. There was some type of cake and a bottle of fine wine. He left the dessert for the bugs and took the wine to bed with him.
The next day was the same, and the next. So he was to have a taste first of what it would be like if he didn’t agree to the duke’s terms? Did the man really think he could be coerced into working for him?
Leopold Baum arrived early on the fifth morning of their confinement. He didn’t take chances. Four big, strapping guards preceded him, entering the cel
l with their pistols drawn. One of them tied Sebastian’s hands behind his back while the other three kept their guns pointed at him. It was a tight fit in the small cell with the guards filling the corners.
The duke offered few surprises other than his age. Sebastian, who had expected a younger man, could see that the duke was close to the half-century mark. Dark blond hair trimmed short in the fashion of the day. Sebastian wore his hair long and usually clubbed back, only because John made a lousy barber, and they traveled too much to visit a good one with any frequency. The duke had a superb barber.
Sharp blue eyes, keenly intelligent, or so they appeared. Tall, though not quite six feet. His frame was stocky, leaning toward fat. His jowls were starting to sag, though it wasn’t that noticeable under the full, short blond beard. He still held himself regally, a man of extreme consequence and privilege.
Sebastian guessed that he had either just been riding, or he still had it on the morning agenda, as he wore a jade green coat and buff-colored riding breeches, and held a crop in hand, which he tapped against his well-polished black knee-high boots.
His expression was actually congenial, as if Sebastian wasn’t sitting in a cell with four pistols pointed at him but was instead a real guest. “Are your accommodations satisfactory?”
Sebastian didn’t bat an eye. “The floor could stand a few boards, but otherwise, I’ve enjoyed the vacation.”
Leopold smiled. “Excellent. It’s too bad we couldn’t come to terms sooner, but I assume you are ready to get back to work now?”
“You shouldn’t assume.”
Leopold’s smile didn’t falter. He was obviously certain he held the upper hand. Sebastian couldn’t quite figure out how. Keeping him imprisoned wasn’t going to get the job done. Letting him go wasn’t going to get it done either.
He pointed out, “Detaining me here because I refuse to work for you is illegal.”
“But that’s not why you are here,” Leopold said jovially. “I can think of any number of crimes you have committed. Execution is possible, though I suspect even that won’t sway you. But come now, let’s not be melodramatic. You’ve been my guest—”
“Prisoner,” Sebastian cut in.
“Guest,” Leopold insisted. “If you were a prisoner, these accommodations wouldn’t be nearly so pleasant, I do assure you. But perhaps I’ve visited too soon. Shall I return next week, to find out if you tire of this ‘vacation’?”
Sebastian finally raised a brow. “And then the week after that, and the one after that? This doesn’t get your wife found, does it?”
Leopold seemed surprised. “You would be so stubborn? Why?”
“As I told your man, I can’t take this job because of where it leads. I swore an oath I’d never return to England. I’m not going to break that oath for monetary gain.”
“Why did you make that oath?”
“That, sir, is none of your business.”
“I see,” Leopold said thoughtfully. “Then I suppose I must appeal to your sympathy.”
“Don’t bother,” Sebastian replied. “A man in my occupation can have none.”
Leopold laughed. “Of course not—on the surface. But hear me out, then we shall see.”
The duke began to pace as he gathered his thoughts. With such limited space, and four burly guards filling up most of it, he soon gave up and stood still again. Sebastian wondered if what he was going to hear would be the truth, or a fabrication to stir his so-called sympathies.
“I married my wife in good faith. It was an unhappy match, though, as we both soon found out. She could have had a divorce. She need only have asked for it. Instead she chose to run off, pretending to have been kidnapped so she would have the means to live comfortably.”
“I know all this—”
“You know nothing!” Leopold interrupted, a bit more sharply than he probably intended.
In that brief moment, the real man was revealed, a hot-tempered autocrat. A man who assumed he had unlimited power, true or not, was very dangerous. Sebastian might have to rethink his situation.
“Why didn’t you appeal to the English government to assist you in finding her? They have branches that are quite good at that sort of thing. That would still be your best course of action.”
“I am an Austrian duke,” Leopold said, a degree of annoyance mixed into his condescending tone. “I cannot put myself in a position where I would owe favors to another government. I’ve sent men, a countless number. That should have been sufficient.”
Sebastian held back a snort. “When did you send the last one?”
Leopold frowned, his eyes moving about as if he were searching for an answer, and in fact he was. He really couldn’t remember.
“Last year—no, the year before that,” he finally said.
Sebastian shook his head, couldn’t keep the disgust out of his eyes. “What am I doing here? It’s obvious you don’t really want her back.”
Leopold stiffened, said in his own defense, “I had given up! I was going to have her declared dead. But my darling Maria won’t marry me without proof of death or divorce. She’s fearful of giving me heirs that could be declared bastards if my first wife should ever return.”
Smart girl, Sebastian thought to himself, then abruptly amended, not smart at all if she was willing to marry this fellow. Of course, the duke might be a completely different man when dealing with his “love.”
Leopold continued, “If I had known there were men like you, I would have seen this matter resolved long ago. Your arrival in my town has given me new hope. It is said you have never failed to complete a job successfully. A sterling record like that demands a challenge like this, don’t you agree? Or have you based your career on simple jobs that any fool could accomplish?”
“Save your breath,” Sebastian said. “I am impervious to insults. My answer stands, for the reasons given. Whether I would like to help you or not is moot. Your wife’s location is the deciding factor.”
“Then let me offer a new deciding factor,” Leopold said coldly and glanced at the guard closest to the door. “Go kill the other man—no, wait. He might be useful to The Raven’s work. Kill the boy.”
Sebastian stiffened, was incredulous. Unfortunately, he didn’t doubt at all that Timothy would die in the next few minutes if he didn’t buckle under to the duke’s will. Killing and mayhem were nothing to a despot like this man, just part of doing business. If he hadn’t met other men of this type to know that, he might have suspected a bluff and even called it. But not with this man.
Curbing his own emotions, Sebastian said tonelessly, “You made your point. Leave the boy alone.”
Leopold nodded and called his guard back. He was smiling again, puffed up pleased with his victory. Did he really think Sebastian would honor a forced commitment?
“I’m curious,” Leopold said, his tone jovial again now that he assumed he’d won The Raven’s compliance. “The boy isn’t related to you, at least I’m told he bears no resemblance. Why would you break your oath for him?”
“I’ve made myself responsible for him until we find him a good home. He’s an orphan.”
“Commendable,” Leopold remarked. “Now that we’ve come to an amicable agreement, you might need this.” He removed a miniature portrait from his pocket, dropped it on the cot next to Sebastian. “She has assumed a new name, but she can’t change how she looks.”
That was debatable, but Sebastian merely said, “I’ll need better than that. What was she like?”
“Hot tempered—”
Sebastian cut in to clarify. “Not in relation to you, but to others.”
“She was hot tempered no matter whom she dealt with,” the man insisted. “Vain, greedy, condescending, spoiled. She came from a wealthy family.”
“Why didn’t she return to them, instead of running away?”
The duke flushed slightly as he admitted, “They forbade her to marry me. They cut her off completely when she did. They no longer acknowledge her as one o
f theirs.”
That touched too close to home. If Sebastian’s sympathies hadn’t favored the wife before, they did now.
“My next question is pertinent,” he said. “Do you think she had the men you sent to England killed, or were they just afraid to return to you empty-handed? Were threats made if they didn’t succeed?”
The duke flushed with anger again but waved his hand dismissively in response. “There might have been, but that isn’t important.”
“I disagree. I need to know if I should be watching my back.”
“A man in your profession would do so as a matter of course, would he not?”
Sebastian conceded the point. And he’d asked enough questions for a job he had no intention of doing. “We’ll be leaving in the morning,” he told the duke.
“Very good,” Leopold replied and glanced at his guards. “Escort The Raven and his man back to their inn.” He turned back to Sebastian, adding as an afterthought, “The boy will stay here, of course.”
Sebastian didn’t move a muscle, then simply said, “No.”
“Oh, yes. Not here in the dungeon. That isn’t necessary. But I will most definitely keep him. You didn’t really think I would let you go without—insurance? The boy will be returned to you when you bring my wife back to me. You’ll have your fee then as well.”
Bloody hell. Keeping the boy is what Sebastian would have done, but he’d hoped the duke wasn’t that clever.
“You needn’t worry about him,” Leopold assured him. “I will turn him over to the palace women. They’ll spoil him to his heart’s content, so much so that he probably won’t want to leave. I have no reason right now to hurt the boy. Don’t give me one.”
Leopold’s meaning couldn’t have been more clear. He even smiled one last time before he turned to leave the cell. But he paused in the doorway as one of the guards began untying Sebastian.
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