by Adele Clee
"Take it," she said suppressing the need to throw it at him as he scooped it out of her grasp. "I hope the expedition I've funded proves fruitful."
He shrugged. "Fifty of your English pounds will get me to your shore, pay for my keep, for the odd turn at the tables." He thrust the roll under his arm. "Now, it is time for me to be on my way."
Anna followed him towards the door, relieved to feel fresh air breezing over her face. "I'm sure I shall know the moment a lady enters a room wearing a dress made from that silk."
"I doubt it." He turned and scanned the tomb. "Had I known this was to be your fate I would have asked Selene to steal it all. What good is having money hidden under the bed when you shall perish in here."
Anna gulped and shook her head. "But surely you mean to let me leave?"
"Ah, non. It is not possible. Not now you know of my plans, know of my silk."
Taking a deep breath for courage, Anna blurted, "I am leaving this tomb whether you to try to stop me or not."
Samuel Lessard tutted. "Why must everything be so difficult?" he said wearily. "Do not make me draw my knife. Do not—" His attention shifted and he raised his chin as wrinkles formed on his brow. Anna thought she'd heard something, too. But then, with a quick shake of the head he stared at her. "Where were we?"
With the door still open, this was her only chance to escape.
Without giving the matter another thought, she charged towards him, barging past in a desperate bid to be far away from the hideous place.
The mausoleum stood on the edge of a cliff leading down to the sea. The few gravestones dotted about gave the impression that all others had fallen to the rocky shore as the battering waves eroded the earth, sucking it away. She had no option but to run straight ahead and managed to take a few strides before being knocked to the ground, her face hitting the pebbled pathway.
Rolling onto her back, she met Samuel Lessard's irritated glare as he loomed over her, wielding the roll of material like a floppy sword.
"Get up. Get up," he repeated, his tone revealing irritation as opposed to anger.
"Samuel. Samuel." The feminine cry drifted through the air. Anna glanced to her left to see Selene running towards them, scraping back the ebony locks clinging to her face. She stopped at Anna's side and put her hand on her chest as she tried to catch her breath. "What … what have you done?"
Samuel Lessard broke into a torrent of abusive curses, speaking so quickly in his native tongue Anna struggled to make sense of it.
"Just go, Samuel. I shall take care of Miss Sinclair." Selene flicked her fingers to shoo him away.
Samuel cursed again. "What, so you may tell the whole village I locked her in a tomb?"
"It does not matter. Just go now before the others come." Selene was gabbling her words in a desperate bid to be rid of him. "The boat will be leaving soon. You must go."
If Samuel left now, Anna might never discover the truth. Why had Selene locked her inside the tomb? Why had she stolen her money? How had Samuel discovered her name and previous profession?
"So, you are to blame, Monsieur Lessard. Mr. Danbury will not let you leave when he discovers you were the one who poisoned me and locked me in that tomb. He will be here soon."
Fear flashed in the skinny man's eyes. "I … I must leave tonight. I cannot stay here. It is not safe for me." His gaze darted to Selene. "Just tell her, Selene. Tell her it was you."
Selene's mouth hung open, and she snapped it shut. "Liar! Do not lie to protect yourself, Samuel."
Samuel Lessard shook his head. He bent down, offered his hand and helped her to her feet. "Selene wanted to scare you, to—"
"Liar!" Selene yelled, flying at her brother, punching and kicking him. He pushed her away, and she fell back, her arms flailing.
"Selene found your hidden money. She knew I had to leave here before my friends from Lyon came looking for me. And so, yes, she gave me your fifty pounds and in return begged me to hide in the stables and frighten you."
Frighten me?
All Anna could do was stand in stupefied silence and shake her head. What possible reason could Selene have for wanting to scare her? A few seconds felt like hours as a range of emotions flooded her chest: anger, confusion, relief. She sighed. Victor was dead. And she did not need to live in fear of an accomplice hiding in the village.
"Why?" The solitary word fell from Anna's lips though it conveyed sorrow and disappointment.
"You do not understand." Selene scrambled to her feet. "It was not meant to be like this."
"No. You intended to leave me in that godforsaken place." Anna thrust her finger towards the mausoleum. "I would have been dead come morning. Is that what you wanted?"
Selene sniffed. "Non! Non! I would have come back when it was dark. Then you would not have known it was me."
"Why?" Anna repeated. "I have been kind to you. I have tried to be helpful, useful with the chores."
Selene held her head in her hands and sobbed. "I could not help it. You were taking him away from me. I … I just wanted you to go far from here, to go home."
Samuel cursed at his sister, spitting each word as a snake would venom.
Taking him away? Did she mean Marcus?
"How did you know I'd used the name Marie?" Anna did not wish to repeat what Samuel Lessard had said about her being a whore.
"I heard you talking, read about it in a letter."
Anna gasped. "You read Mr. Danbury's private correspondence?"
"I did not have a choice. I needed to know who you were … to know of your intentions."
"You could have spoken to me. You could have made your feelings known. But instead, you poisoned me, stole from me, tried to—"
Anna stopped abruptly. The sound of someone hollering her name caught her attention. Four figures came charging out from the woods. Anna's heart soared when she noticed Marcus leading the group of men.
With an ear-piercing shriek from Selene and another blasphemous curse from Samuel, both brother and sister turned and fled, racing down the path towards the shore.
Chapter 21
"Anna!"
Marcus ignored the two frantic figures fleeing the scene. He could not tear his gaze away from the heavenly vision before him. Breaking into a run, he charged ahead. An overwhelming sense of relief consumed him, all the pain, fear and distress melting away.
Anna was safe and well.
He called out to her again — a cry of anguish to express the desperate need for her clawing away inside. She ran into his open arms, and he swung her around, hugged her tight until they struggled to breathe.
"I thought I'd lost you," he said lowering her down until her feet touched the ground. Blissfully ignorant to those looking on, he took her face between his palms and kissed her deeply. "I'm sorry for writing the blasted letter. I'm sorry for suggesting you should leave."
"It doesn't matter now." She threw her arms around his neck, ran her fingers through his hair.
"What happened to you?" he asked stepping back and holding her hands as his eyes devoured every inch of her, searching for any sign of illness or injury. "Selene said you felt dizzy, that she came back to the cart but you'd gone. Did someone lure you away? Was it Samuel Lessard?"
Anna shook her head. "Selene locked me in the mausoleum. But I'll explain it all later. You must go after her. She is not thinking clearly. I fear she could do herself harm."
Andre cleared his throat. "Pardon. But we will go and find Selene."
Marcus inclined his head and without another word, Andre, Lenard and Justin hurried off in pursuit of his cook.
Anna dropped her arms. "You should go with them—"
"I'm not leaving you."
"Then I'll follow."
Marcus stroked her face, brushed the tendrils of golden hair away gently, and took her hand. "We'll go together."
They hurried down the steep, rocky path leading from the cliff edge to the sandy shore. With the tide low, the beach appeared to stretch for half a mil
e or more, and Marcus noticed a solitary figure sprinting towards the sea.
"It's Samuel Lessard," Anna said following his gaze as they hurried along the coastline in a bid to catch up with the men and Selene. "The package under his arm is a roll of silk. He intends to set sail in an attempt to smuggle it into England. But surely he's not going to run into the sea with it. Doesn't he know the salt water will ruin it?"
Marcus had noted the sailing vessel on the horizon. There would be a small boat waiting to ferry Lessard across. "They need to move now. When the tide is low, they're less likely to be seen as they're further away from the shore. When the tide is high, there's a greater risk of them crashing onto the rocks as the water surges and swells and can be unpredictable."
"I can see a small boat," she said.
Marcus glanced up at the thick granite-coloured cloud drifting closer to the shore. "No doubt he means to reach the boat before the storm breaks. It's possible the other smugglers have already boarded with their liquor, tobacco and tea. Lenard told me he sold liquor to the smugglers. I imagine from the quantity we found in the cave some of it is stolen, too."
"Lenard confessed?" He felt Anna's penetrative gaze, heard the surprise in her tone.
"There's not much to confess. He knew of their criminal intentions but needed the money. He never had any plans to smuggle the goods himself."
"Does he know of your involvement?" she asked with a sense of trepidation. "Does he know you're the informer?"
"No. But he knows I understand the risks involved, and I've warned him to avoid similar ventures in the future."
Anna gripped his hand. "I've a lot to tell you. But first, we must make sure Selene is safe."
Marcus' heart swelled with pride at her compassion for Selene. The woman had caused an immense amount of trouble and still he had no idea why. Anna's sudden gasp made him focus his attention on the unnerving sight ahead.
"Selene is climbing the rocks," Anna cried. "It's too high, Marcus. She'll never make it up to the cliff edge. What if she falls?"
They could hear Andre shouting Selene to stop. Lenard and Justin remained on the sand while Andre grabbed onto the first rock and hoisted himself up. By the time Marcus and Anna reached them, Selene had climbed five or six and had turned around to look out over the vast expanse of water.
"Do not follow me," Selene shouted balancing precariously as she leant back. The solid lump of stone provided the only support. "I will jump."
Panic flared in Marcus' chest. Despite all she had done, he had lived with her for years. She'd worked hard, been loyal up until now. Perhaps she was suffering from some imbalance of the mind? Perhaps she had done the terrible things at the behest of her brother?
"Wait, Selene." Anna let go of his hand and stepped forward. "Let me talk to you. Let me come up as I cannot hear you down here."
Marcus put his hand on her elbow. "No, Anna. As much as I pity the woman, we do not know what she is capable of. I've almost lost you once. I'll not stand here and watch you put your life in danger."
"Pardon, madame, but I agree," Andre said as he clung to the first rock. "I do not think it is wise."
"No!" Selene cried. "You must stay where you are." Her body appeared stiff, rigid. She had already proved to be unpredictable. One sudden jerk, one wrong step and she'd come crashing all the way down to the bottom. "I have ruined everything with my silly little fantaisie."
"It doesn't matter," Anna implored. "We will talk. We will find a way through it all."
Marcus stepped closer and whispered in Anna's ear. "I can't have her back at the monastery. Not after what she has done. Don't make promises I cannot keep."
She turned and gave him a weak smile. "I know."
"I am a thief, a liar, an evil woman," Selene sobbed as she wiped the tears from her face. "I do not want to hang."
"You're not going to hang," Marcus reassured her. "No one will know of it. We all swear to say nothing of the matter. If you come down, we will do as Miss Sinclair suggests. We will find a solution."
He didn't have the heart to tell her that her brother would most probably hang once the revenue ship intercepted the lugger. Unless they had the money to pay the duty for all the goods they carried.
The first few spots of rain began to fall. Light enough so one might think they'd imagined feeling the wet drop land on their skin.
"Please, Selene," Anna implored as the drizzle threatened to progress into a downpour. "Come down so we can all go home."
Selene shook her head, her frantic gaze flitting between Anna and Marcus.
"Let Andre help you," Marcus added. "He has always been a true friend to you, and you're making him ill with worry."
"He will not want to be my friend when he learns what I have done."
Andre pulled himself up to the next rock. "I will," he shouted across to her.
"You will all hate me." Selene's fearful gaze locked with Andre's. She shuffled sideways, lost her footing on a loose stone and slid down to the rock below.
"Good God!" Marcus' loud gasp was accompanied by Anna's scream and Andre's French curse.
They all looked on in horror, but then gave a collective sigh of relief when she managed to stand up.
Andre stretched his hand up to her despite being too far away. "Come, Selene. Let me take you home."
With fear in her eyes, Selene pursed her lips and nodded in resignation.
As with any such task, it was always easier to climb up than it was to descend. Numerous times, Selene slipped on the damp rocks, grazing her elbow, tearing the hem of her dress. Amidst all the gasps and sighs and words of encouragement, Andre reached up and offered her his hand. They all sighed again when Andre placed his feet firmly on the ground, and he lowered Selene down to safety.
"Merci, Andre. Merci," Selene muttered as Andre hugged her. "You have always been good to me, and I did not mean to disappoint you."
Andre whispered to her in French; the words were said too quietly and quickly for anyone to hear. Selene looked up at him and nodded.
Breaking away from Andre, Selene walked over to Anna and clasped her hands together in prayer. "Forgive me, Miss Sinclair. I should never have given you the tonic. I should never have left you in—" She stopped abruptly and broke into a sob.
"Let's talk about it back at the monastery," Anna said casting Marcus a nervous glance. "We are all getting wet, and I've not eaten for hours."
Andre stepped forward. "With your permission, Mr. Danbury, I will escort Selene back."
Perhaps all the time he'd spent with Anna had softened his heart. It was impossible to make any decision regarding Selene whilst standing in the wind and rain. "Very well. Be on your way. We will head back to the village to collect my horse and the cart."
Andre nodded, put his arm around Selene and led her away.
"Just a moment," Anna shouted after them. When Selene turned, Anna said, "Do you have my Bible?"
Selene struggled to look their way. "Yes. It is safe."
Anna sighed. "And did you have help getting me into the tomb?"
Marcus knew why she had asked the question. To know the identity of one's enemy brought a level of strength and determination, a level of confidence in one's ability to overthrow them in battle. To be blind and naive brought a constant fear of the unknown.
Selene coughed and cleared her throat. "I said I drove the cart to town, but that was a lie. I came here instead. You were still able to walk a little although your eyes were closed and you were sleepy. There is no one else to blame. Only me."
As Andre led her away, Anna exhaled deeply.
"Are you alright?" Marcus asked taking her hands in his. They felt soft and warm despite the rain and blustery breeze. "I see you've been using the balm," he added when she only offered a smile.
"Yes," she replied. "Selene is rather adept at making tonics and potions."
Justin and Lenard walked on ahead. Though his coat was damp, Marcus shrugged out of it and draped it over Anna's shoulders.
"In love with me?" Marcus gasped. "Surely not."
Anna hugged his arm. "She thought I would take you away, that she would lose you."
The woman had worked for him for three years, never giving him as much as a second glance. "She never said anything, never gave me the impression she cared."
"Women often keep their feelings hidden. But if one looks closely you will see it in their eyes, in the soft timbre they use when speaking to the object of their affection."
He glanced at her and their gazes locked. He saw it then: love, warmth, and tenderness. The depth of emotion in her eyes touched him.
"But I do not believe Selene truly loves you," she added.
Marcus snorted. "And why is that?"
"When you love someone with all your heart and soul, you do not do things to hurt them." She clung onto him as a sudden gust of wind almost knocked them off their feet. "Heavens, I shall be glad to be indoors."
"Tell me." He stopped and turned to face her. "What do you do when you love someone so deeply?"
She smiled. "You show compassion and understanding, even though you've spent long terrifying hours wondering if you'll live to see the sun rise. You put aside your negative feelings, safe in the knowledge you have something beautiful blossoming in your heart."
Was she telling him she loved him?
Marcus felt his throat constrict. The pain of regret, of never saying the words he knew filled his chest was too much to bear. It suddenly occurred to him that he was scared. Good Lord! He was scared of losing her. He was scared of loving anyone. He was scared of being a constant disappointment.
Fear was his enemy — the only thing standing in the way of true happiness.
As his boots sank into the moist sand, as the wind howled around their ears and the rain pelted their faces, he made the sudden decision to offer her his heart.
"I never meant to betray you," he said pulling her into an embrace. "I don't give a damn about Miss Beaufort or Dane or some silly cottage in Marlow. I wrote the letter because I care about you. For no other reason than that."