by Joan Vincent
“Thank you.” Quentin kissed her hand. Then he jerked his head, signalling the others to leave them. Alone again, Quentin tugged on his right ear as he stared down at her.
Maddie gaped at the action. With sudden clarity she remembered Jamey’s description of Major Bellaport’s quirk. Bafflement creased her brow.
Troubled by her expression, Quentin asked, “What is it?”
With a shake of her head, Maddie stepped back. “Nothing. You must go to the others.”
“One thing, Maddie,” Quentin said, “you mustn’t tell anyone but the family that the children have been found.”
* * *
Maddie knocked on the salon door. Bid to enter, she held the door for Maves who carried a tray laden with a coffee pot and five cups. “Mr. Lundin will join you in a moment,” she told Quentin. “Your father has asked what schemes are being laid.”
“Do you think you could fob him off?”
“She’d have to be a touch less trusting.” Margonaut entered the room. He caught his daughter-in-law’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Sorry, my dear, but I knew something was afoot after that infernal racket the baron raised.” His smile faded at sight of the grim faces.
“I may not be as young as you Jack Dandies but I’ve a sight more years under my belt. I’d be useful in any scheme and I am a magistrate. Have you forgotten that, Quentin?”
Agatha Vincouer paused at the salon’s door. Seeing the gentlemen, she backed away. “Oh, Cousin Madeline. I am—so—sorry,” she stuttered. “I did not—mean—to—interrupt.”
Captain Medworth smiled reassurance and stepped forward. “Miss Vincouer, please, you are welcome at any time. Do you require assistance?”
“You are most gracious, sir,” Agatha said, her eyes on his boots. “But it is—excessively embarrassing.” Her colour heightened. “Sanford slept in the—”
“Ahh, yes,” said Quentin. He recalled the third bottle of brandy he had had Maves take to Sanford. “I shall assist you.”
Nodding, Agatha dared a glance at the captain. “Thank you, sir, for your consideration.”
Hearing unexpected animation in these words, Maddie looked at Medworth. “Agatha, you have not met Captain Medworth.
“Captain, my cousin, Miss Vincouer.”
Quentin took Agatha’s elbow. “Come along, Medworth. The lady’s brother requires our aid.”
* * *
When everyone had taken a seat at the table for breakfast, Maddie cleared her throat. Getting everyone’s attention she beamed at them. “Malcolm and Jessamine have been found.”
“Lord be praised,” murmured Aunt Prissy.
“When shall we see them? Are they all right? Are they in the house?” her sisters chattered in turn.
“No, they are not home—yet,” Maddie answered. Seeing their joy fade, she added, “They are being kept safe while Major Broyal and Henry find those who abducted them. You do want them safe, yes?”
“Of course the girls do. All of us do,” said Aunt Prissy. “’Tis just a bit disappointing not to be able to hug them.”
“Malcolm wouldn’t let you,” Ruth said.
“He thinks he’s much too grown up,” chimed Helene. “But this time I don’t think he would care. When are they coming home, Maddie?”
“Some time soon, I am sure. The Major and Captain Medworth are meeting with everyone now to lay plans.”
Breakfast passed pleasantly with the pall of the previous day lifted.
Maddie’s smile turned to a frown as she came left the room and headed for the stairs. Why has Quentin concealed that he was Jamey’s commanding officer? That he has my letters to Jamey? When this is all over he shall have some explaining to do. She stifled the fear that worried at her. It had better be a very good reason.
“Miss,” Maves called as she began to mount the stairs. “The troops from Ashford have arrived. Shall we offer them refreshment?”
“I shall go speak to their officers,” Maddie told him. She hurried out into the yard.
“Good morn, Mrs. Broyal,” Lieutenants Topken and Chambers bid her, the news of the hasty marriage having spread quickly and far. They introduced themselves.
“The same to you gentleman. Have your men take advantage of the available shade. They may draw water for drinking as well.”
“We were very sorry to learn of the abduction of your brother and sister, ma’am,” Lieutenant Topken said. “Have you had any word?”
Heeding Quentin’s request, Maddie demurred with a shake of her head. “We hope that will change—that you are successful in your search.”
“We’ll do our best, ma’am,” both young men told her.
The left them and met Quentin as he left the house.
Broyal took Maddie aside. He kissed her and held her close. “There is much more to this than I can explain now,” he said. “We will talk tonight. Keep the girls close to the house. I have asked Father to stay behind to watch over you.”
Maddie nodded, his anxious eagerness to join the search, and her desire to have the children home as quickly as possible forestalled her questions.
* * *
“Corrie just told us where the puppies are! You must come and see them,” Maddie’s sisters shouted as they ran into the salon where Maddie sat with Aunt Prissy and Agatha. “The puppies Mr. Lundin told us about,” they exclaimed at the ladies’ puzzlement. “They are in the barn.”
Maddie frowned at them. “It would be best if you not leave the house.”
A wail of protests rose.
Ermintrude sailed into the room, her features rigid with displeasure. “Sanford cannot rest with children running and shouting through the house,” she snapped. “Have you been taught no manners at all?”
“He can leave,” Margonaut noted behind her. His hard cold stare sent the woman on her way. “The young ladies could use a treat after all the worry. I shall accompany them,” he told Maddie.
Her sisters’ pleading eyes tugged at Maddie’s heart.
“Do let’s go,” Aunt Prissy said behind her.
* * *
Prescott House Tuesday Afternoon
Petit finished packing the monseigneur’s wardrobe just as the long clock in the entryway chimed two o’clock. He heard someone enter the house and frowned. “If it is Capitaine Medworth again,” he muttered, “he will not find me.”
“Letu. Letu!” someone called from the ground floor. The sound of a scuffle floated up the stairs, followed by two sharp slaps, and a woman’s cry.
Waddling down the steps as fast as his short, bowed legs would carry him, Petit was stunned to find two of the French sailors who had landed the evening past standing over Mademoiselle Vincouer. She stared up at them as she sat on the floor, a hand to her reddened cheek.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
“Do you have any laudanum?” the larger sailor demanded.
“Petit,” Maddie implored, “please help me.”
The smaller sailor raised a hand.
Maddie winced and fell silent.
“Why have you done this?” Petit protested.
“The monseigneur ordered cette femme taken. If you have laudanum, fetch it at once or else—” He balled his fist and raised it as he grabbed Maddie’s hair.
With feigned nonchalance, Petit shrugged and went to do as bid. He returned with a glass.
Maddie took it with a contemptuous snort and began to pour out the contents.
Catching her hand in a rough grip, the smaller of the sailors snarled, “Drink it or worse will happen to you.”
“We will go back for your sisters,” the other threatened.
When Petit turned away without a word, Maddie lifted the glass to her lips. With a shudder she gulped the contents down.
“Get ready to go with us,” the larger told Petit. “We are to take everything to Limes Point.”
* * *
Hart Cottage Early Tuesday Evening
It was dusk when Quentin returned to Hart Cottage. M
aves opened the door for him. The butler’s desolate grimace told him something had gone wrong. His stomach knotted when the old man opened his mouth to speak but could not.
Taking hold the butler’s shoulders, he demanded, “What is it, Maves?”
Margonaut strode from the sitting room. “Thank God you have returned. “I have—I have failed you, Quentin. Your wife has been taken.”
“Taken?” Quentin repeated dumbly. He looked back at Maves and gave him a shake.
“It—is—true,” the old butler admitted.
“Her sisters wished to see some puppies Lundin mentioned this morning. It was such a short distance to the barn—” The earl raised his hands in a hopeless gesture.
“Who did it?” demanded Quentin.
“They looked to be sailors,” the earl told him. “French sailors.”
Medworth and de la Croix entered behind Quentin. They were startled by his pale features and desperate expression. “What has happened?” they asked in unison.
Miss Benton overhead the question as she joined them. She laid a hand on Quentin’s arm and met André’s and Lundin’s gazes. “Mrs. Broyal has been kidnapped,” she told them. She looked up at Quentin.
“I am so sorry,” Miss Benton said. “I have ordered supper served. Please come and eat. You must have food to keep your wits about you.”
Ermintrude Vincouer cleared her throat at the top of the stairs. She descended with a regal air and halted before Broyal. “All this coming and going is unacceptable,” she began. “My nerves are shattered and—”
“Ma’am,” Quentin bit out, his fear for Maddie snapping his patience. “You will take your person and your son’s out of this house tonight.”
“What?”
“Your coach will be at the door in one hour.”
“Leave? At this time of day? Where shall we stay?” Ermintrude protested. “This is shabbily done, sir. I will tell the world how—”
His retort curbed, Quentin cut her off. “One hour.”
“Sir, please,” Agatha came from the dining room. “Mr. Broyal, please, might—might I remain—until—”
“Miss Vincouer tried to assist your wife,” Margonaut told his son to explain the swollen bruise on her face.
Quentin’s expression softened. “Of course you may,” he assured her.
“You will do no such thing, daughter,” Ermintrude snapped. “Go to my room at once and pack.”
Agatha shuddered. She squared her shoulders and raised her eyes to her mother’s. “I am of age, Mama,” she said. “I wish to remain.”
“Of all the ungrateful gels,” her mother snorted. “I tremble at what your brother will have to say about this.”
Perceiving Quentin’s nod, Pricilla put an arm about Agatha’s waist. “Come, dear, let us assist Corrie in bringing up the gentlemen’s supper.”
“Do this and you will not be welcome in my home,” Ermintrude called after her. “Spiteful gel, you owe me—”
“Your daughter need not worry about a roof over her head,” Quentin snapped. “Be warned. One hour or I shall personally toss you and your son out of this house.”
After he stalked from the room, Ermintrude’s jaw flapped for a full minute. Everyone in the hall followed Quentin. Picking up her skirts, she hurried to Sanford’s room. “Go downstairs this instant and put that—that man—in his place,” she demanded.
“Really Mother, we can do little here now that Maddie is wed. Let us be gone.”
A little over an hour later Miss Benton, supported by the Earl of Margonaut, bade the unwelcome guests farewell. “Thank you, my lord,” she told him when their coach had pulled out of the yard. “It was most kind of you.”
Margonaut smiled down at her. “If only I could ease your mind. Your niece will be found. Be certain of that,” he offered bracingly. With a pat to her hand, he led her back to the dining parlour.
They re-entered to find a heated argument under way about how to best search for Maddie.
Quentin fell silent upon their entry and stared hard at his hands, his face dark and grim.
Medworth signalled silence. “Matters are falling into place. Topken has brought me a man who is adamant that the contraband is stored on the Cavilon estate.”
The de la Croix bristled. “That is a lie.”
“Of course,” the captain agreed, “but Topken believes I investigated that this afternoon. He is unaware I have finally ferreted him out as a traitor. Nor that I know Mrs. Broyal has been taken to the beach.”
“We cannot attack with Maddie in the midst of everything,” Quentin said severely in the pause that followed.
“Lundin, is there another way to the beach besides the track at Limes Point?”
The steward nodded. “It is at a distance and the beach is not wide. The French will have a watch. They might see anyone who approaches from that direction.”
Quentin rubbed the back of his neck. “Someone shall have to go down before the raid and free her.” He looked up at the others. “It cannot be me,” he said, despair in the admission wrought on his features. “They would recognize me.”
He looked at André. “You are the obvious choice. But,” he warned, “you must forget about avenging your cousin—this Tarrant—and do only what will save Maddie. Your word?”
The baron’s gaze did not waver from Quentin’s. “My vow,” he said with an imperceptible nod.
Quentin breathed in and held it a moment as he contemplated the scenario at the cove. He continued, “I will come up beach from the back side with one or two men.” He nodded at Medworth, “You will place your men in two groups behind the hollow leading to the path down to the cove.” He leaned forward on his arms.
“André, you must get down among them. We’ll discuss the timing later. I want to be close by on the other side while you free Maddie.” He leaned back. “The baron will signal when he has my wife safe.” He looked at Medworth.
“That will be your cue to send the troops down. Have them go down firing their weapons. In the chaos, we should be able to get her away one direction or the other.”
Margonaut laid his hand atop his son’s and gripped it.
Turning his hand over, Quentin clasp his father’s, welcoming the support. So intense was his concentration on freeing Maddie he didn’t even think that his father had never made such a gesture before in his life.
“Let us go over the necessary details and make certain everyone is clear about what we will do,” Quentin said. “It is my wife, gentlemen, and I want each of you to know exactly what is to happen and when.” Broyal jabbed his finger onto the hollow near the cove in the map in the centre of the table.
“Captain, you must concentrate your men just far enough from those under Topken’s command to be undetected,” he began.
* * *
Limes Point Tuesday Evening
Quentin leaned forward as Perseus flowed like a fluid shadow across ground bathed by moonlight that danced between the clouds. Behind him followed Jenks and Lundin.
When the land fell away to the sea, Quentin slowed the gelding’s pace. Ever sombre since learning Maddie had been abducted, his look now darkened. Have I laid the plans well enough? Will they be carried out with enough finesse? There is so much that could go wrong and Maddie will pay the price of anything that does.
Quentin’s heart fluttered with fear worse than any he had ever had in any cavalry charge he ever faced. She will be all right. She must be. He shoved his fear aside and concentrated on what to do to ensure her safety as they rode down a roughening terrain.
In a short time the three men came onto a narrow sandy beach. A careful check across the water’s horizon showed it clear. Lundin now took the lead. Quentin and Jenks followed.
Sporadic moonlight filtered through the clouds and kissed the incoming waves as they halted and dismounted. While the other men checked their weapons, Quentin pulled a pistol from his saddle holster, and pushed it in his waistband. He touched the one already in his cropped black jack
et.
After a final scan of the seascape, the three men went forward. They hugged the wall of stone that rose higher with each step they took.
* * *
Captain Medworth and de la Croix crept as close as they dared to the wagons and clutches of pack mules in the hollow near Limes Point. After watching the men load the ingots into packs on the mules and then lead them toward the cove, Medworth motioned at a man he spied scuttling away from the mules in the opposite direction.
“Of all the blessed luck. He’ll run straight into your men,” André grinned. “I shall have my suit of clothes.”
By the time they joined Margonaut and the small group of Preventives hidden well back from the hollow, the soldiers had the man stripped, tied, and gagged.
André quickly changed into his clothes. “Once I am down the incline keep a watch where I go. When I find Mrs. Broyal I will signal with a mirror. One flash means I, or Broyal and I have her. Two mean she can’t be found.”
“Either way I shall send the men down as soon as you signal,” Medworth told him. “The coast guard offshore will wait for the sounds of the guns—that is their signal to attack.
“Broyal was right about sending the mules at the top down ahead of the men. The French’ll take to running anywhere they can when they know it isn’t Topken.” A frown tightened the captain’s features.
“But what if you are taken?” Medworth queried.
“Under no circumstances are you to hold off because of me. Mrs. Broyal comes first,” André insisted. With a wave he headed toward the path.
Medworth shook his head. “Gad, he’s a cool one, sauntering right among them.”
“Too dammed young to know better,” the earl said. His stance, his face sagged with age and concern at the danger Quentin faced, at the odds against success.
Chapter Twenty-two
Limes Point
Maddie became aware first of a dull throb in her head. Then more fully conscious, she discovered her hands were tied behind her back and her feet were bound. A rough cloth bit into the sides of her mouth. A bag of damp hemp covered her head blinding her to where she was.