“Wouldn’t that be the point?”
“I meant like yourself. Or me.”
“Oh. Well, then I’ll just load my reticule with rocks and keep it at the ready.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “A reticule? Filled with rocks?”
She raised her chin. “Yes. Surely there’s something about such a thing in your Official Spy Handbook.”
“I assure you there is not.”
“Well there should be. A reticule is small, easy to handle, and looks nothing like a weapon. And I won’t hesitate to cosh any brigands, believe me.” She hiked up a brow. “Hopefully you won’t make me start with you.”
She fancied she heard his teeth grinding in annoyance. “We’ll depart at dawn,” he said in a voice that resembled a growl.
“That would have been my choice as well.”
“How delightful that we agree on something this evening.”
“I’d wager that we could agree on something else.”
“I wouldn’t be too certain. I’m not feeling especially agreeable.”
She slid her arms around his neck. Raising up on her toes, she pressed herself against him and lightly bit the side of his neck. “I’d wager we could agree that there are more interesting ways to pass the hours before dawn than arguing. Do you not think so?”
His hands slid to her waist, the heat of his palms warming her through the thin satin of her robe. “I don’t know.” A low groan rumbled in his throat as she nibbled on his earlobe. “I’m going to need some more convincing.”
She skimmed one hand down his chest, over his abdomen, then lower, to boldly fondle him through his silk robe. He sucked in a quick breath, his eyes glowing like twin braziers.
“Better than arguing?” she whispered, stroking his hardening length. “I’m convinced,” he said, and crushed her to him.
They silently left the house just as the first mauve smudges of dawn touched the sky. Her heart pounding in anticipation, Victoria hurried along next to Nathan, who held her hand in a warm, comforting grip. In her other hand she carried her dark blue velvet reticule-filled with rocks.
“We’ll walk rather than take the horses,” he said in a hushed tone as they bypassed the stables. “That way we can more easily survey the area surrounding the ruins without risking detection.”
Victoria nodded her agreement, and then concentrated on the path in front of her. They moved along rapidly, passing the lake then continuing on a trail that veered off to the right. She judged a half hour passed before Nathan slowed their pace. Sullen gray streaked the sky, and the air felt cool and heavy with approaching rain. She could hear the sound of water gurgling over rocks, indicating a nearby stream. He pulled her behind a huge elm and, keeping one arm firmly around her shoulders, pointed. “The ruins,” he whispered next to her ear.
Peering through the trees, she saw the crumbling trio of roofless walls. She could feel his tension, knew his every nerve was alert as his gaze carefully scanned the area. Finally, clearly satisfied they were alone, he led her toward the cottage.
They stepped into the U shape formed by the three remaining tumbledown stone walls. Nathan slowly surveyed the area, then pointed toward the remains of the fireplace in the center wall. “Let’s begin there,” he said, pulling their chisels and hammers from the tool bag. “The stones are set in a more irregular pattern, making it easier to conceal any that might be out of place.” He handed her the tools with a grim smile. “You take the right side and I’ll take the left-and good luck.”
For more than an hour the only sounds besides the usual birdcalls and the gurgling of the stream were the chinks of hammers striking chisels. A heavy gray mist saturated the air, dampening their clothes. Victoria noticed that Nathan had stopped hammering and she looked over at him. He’d turned so his back was to the fireplace. His gaze, narrowed and alert, scanned around them. Her stomach jittered at his tense expression.
“Is something amiss?”
“No. I just don’t like this heavy mist. I don’t think the rain will hold off much longer. Another hour or two at the most.”
“I’m not afraid of getting wet, Nathan.”
He looked at her and gave a small smile. “I know, my brave warrior. But rain would make us vulnerable. Make it easier for anyone to sneak up on us.”
“Well, then let’s just find the jewels and leave before anyone does.” Without waiting for his reply, she turned back to the fireplace. A quarter of an hour later, kneeling on the ground, she tapped her chisel into a bit of mortar surrounding a stone close to the ground and the plaster crumbled differently than before.
“Nathan,” she said in an excited whisper. “I think I’ve found something. The mortar around this stone feels softer.”
He dropped to his knees beside Victoria and looked at the stone she indicated. “And the mortar is a slightly different color,” he said.
Together they chiseled around the stone. When they’d loosened it, Nathan worked his fingers into the narrow side openings and pulled, rocking the stone back and forth, up and down. Slowly, slowly, he inched the heavy stone forward until it landed on the ground with a dull thud. He reached his hand into the dark opening, and Victoria held her breath. When he withdrew his hand, he held a dirt-encrusted, battered leather satchel.
She exhaled her pent-up breath in an awed gasp. “Are the jewels inside?”
He loosened the drawstring top and their heads bumped as they both looked into the bag. Even the gray mist couldn’t dull the sparkling glitter of the contents. Reaching in with an unsteady hand, she reverently lifted the first thing she touched-an exquisite strand of creamy pearls. Delving back in, she lifted an emerald necklace, tangled with a sapphire bracelet.
She tilted her hand so the jewels slid back into the bag then looked at Nathan. “Even though I’m seeing this with my own eyes, I can scarcely believe it.”
“Neither can I. But we can dwell on that later.” He pulled the drawstring closed, then tucked the cache under his arm. “Let’s gather our things and get out of here.”
While Nathan hastily shoved the hammers and chisels into the tool bag, Victoria scanned the ground for her rock-filled reticule. Spying it several feet away, near Nathan’s feet, she was about to reach for it when a familiar voice behind her said, “Victoria.”
Before she could so much as blink, she found herself shoved behind Nathan, who held his small pistol in front of him.
“Nathan, stop!” Victoria cried, darting around him. “Father,” she said, staring in stunned amazement at the gray-haired man standing a dozen feet away. Before she could utter another sound, a shot rent the air.
Victoria watched in horror as her father crumpled facedown to the ground.
Twenty-one
Today’s Modern Woman must realize that not every love affair will have a happy ending.
A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of
Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment
by Charles Brightmore
Nathan was aware of Victoria dashing to her father, falling to her knees beside him, but his attention was riveted on the wooded area beyond the ruined cottage. A slight movement behind a thick tree trunk alerted him. Dropping to one knee to make himself a smaller target, he aimed his pistol at the tree. “Stay down, Victoria,” he ordered in a low voice.
“Drop your weapon, Nathan.” The command came from behind the tree. For an instant Nathan froze at that familiar voice. Then white-hot anger and betrayal shot through him. You bastard. Before he could reply, the voice continued, “I have a pistol aimed right at her head. If she moves, I’ll kill her. If you don’t follow my directions to the letter, I’ll kill her. Now set your pistol on the ground and push it away.”
Nathan’s gaze flicked to Victoria, who was pressing the hem of her gown against her father’s bleeding wound. She looked up at Nathan with wet, horrified eyes. “Keep as much pressure on his wound as you can,” Nathan said in a terse undertone, “but don’t move.”
/> Moving slowly so as not to be perceived as making any sudden moves, Nathan set his pistol on the ground then shoved it aside.
“Good,” came the voice. “Now do the same with the knife in your boot. Don’t bother to pretend you do not have it, especially as I’m the one who gave it to you. For your birthday five years ago, as I recall.”
Nathan slid the knife from his boot and shoved it aside.
“Now stand up and put your hands on your head.”
After he’d obeyed, Nathan said in a mocking voice, “Brave enough to show yourself now?”
Nathan remained still as a statue, his gaze burning into the man who stepped out from behind the tree. Holding a pistol in one hand, his other hand resting on the hilt of a sheathed knife tucked into the waistband of his breeches, Gordon approached.
“Very kind of you to locate the jewels for me, Nathan,” Gordon said in a conversational tone, his gaze flicking down to the worn leather sack at Nathan’s feet. “I knew if I followed you, you’d eventually lead me to them. You cannot imagine what an inconvenience it’s been trying to locate them for the past three years.”
Nathan’s mind whirled. Damn it, he needed time, a diversion, yet if there was any hope of saving Lord Wexhall, he couldn’t stall for long. “You betrayed us three years ago,” Nathan sneered. “Why? Why risk everything when you already had everything?”
Stark hatred burned in Gordon’s eyes. “Everything? I had nothing. My father had gambled away everything-my entire inheritance-except the entailed property. He left me with a half-dozen homes I couldn’t afford to maintain and that I couldn’t sell due to the entailments. I needed money-a lot of money-and quickly.”
“Because of your greed, my brother could have been killed.”
Gordon’s face twisted. “Your brother was supposed to have been killed. And I was only supposed to have been grazed.”
Understanding dawned and Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “And I was supposed to remain uninjured, thus thrusting the guilt upon me. How much did you pay Baylor to betray the mission?”
“Too much. And the bastard ruined everything. He got away with my money and the jewels. Once I recovered from my gunshot wound, I searched everywhere for him. I’d given up hope of ever finding him or the jewels until you showed up. When I learned Wexhall was sending his daughter to Cornwall, I knew something was afoot.”
“You searched Lady Victoria’s belongings.”
“Yes. Sadly, I didn’t find what I was looking for.”
“And you hired that thug who robbed us in the woods.”
Gordon chuckled. “Very clever of you, Nathan, having a false note with you. Clever, but exceedingly annoying. I wasted a week chasing false clues.”
Nathan’s gaze shifted briefly toward Victoria, who stared at him through solemn eyes. “That bastard you hired nearly killed Lady Victoria.”
Unfortunately, Gordon didn’t follow his gaze, as Nathan had hoped he would. “If it makes you feel any better, he’ll never hurt anyone again.”
“A tremendous load off my mind,” Nathan murmured. “You cannot possibly hope to get away with this.”
“On the contrary, I’m confident I shall. No one will gainsay the word of the Earl of Alwyck.”
“I will.”
An unpleasant smile curved Gordon’s lips. “Dead men can’t tell tales, Nathan. Now give me the jewels.”
“If you’re going to kill me anyway, why should I?”
“Because if you do as I say, I’ll allow your father to live. If not, I fear he shall meet with a tragic accident. Now pick up the jewels very slowly and toss them to me. After you do, your hands go back on top of your head. You’ll have one chance to make a nice, gentle toss I can catch. If you fail, Lady Victoria will have drawn her last breath.”
Nathan picked up the leather satchel and nimbly tossed it to Gordon, who caught it in his free hand. He lifted the cache up and down several times, testing its weight, and a slow smile curved his lips. “Finally,” he said. “And now-”
“There was no need to shoot Lord Wexhall,” Nathan said quickly, clasping his hands on his head.
A look of utter disgust passed over Gordon’s features. “He got exactly what he deserved. God only knows what he was doing here today. Looking out for you, no doubt. You always were his favorite of the three of us. Never understood why. Never understood why he gave you the chance to recover the jewels.”
Nathan shrugged. “He thought I could use the money. If he’d known your financial difficulties, I’m sure he would have given you the opportunity.”
“It makes no difference now. I have the jewels.”
Nathan flicked his gaze toward the ground. “Um, yes. Yes, you do.” He made a tiny sideways kick with the toe of his boot.
Gordon’s gaze dropped to the ground and riveted on the dirty blue velvet drawstring bag near Nathan’s boot.
“What is that?”
“Nothing,” Nathan said a shade too quickly.
A gasp came from Victoria. “No, Nathan,” she said in a low hiss. “Not those, too.”
Gordon’s eyes narrowed on Nathan. “Holding out on me, Nathan?”
“No.”
“Another bag of gems?”
“Those stones are mine,” Victoria said in a shaky voice.
“How greedy you are, Lady Victoria,” Gordon said, making a tsking sound. He tucked the leather cache under his arm then pointed toward the blue velvet bag. “I’ll take those as well, Nathan. Nice and slow, just like before.”
Nathan slowly bent his knees, reaching down, never taking his gaze from Gordon. Just as he rose, an unearthly wail of distress came from Victoria. Distracted, Gordon’s gaze shifted to her. It was all Nathan needed. With lightning speed he hurled the blue velvet rock-filled reticule at Gordon. The weighted bag struck him on the temple with a sickening thud and he went down like a tenpin. Nathan ran forward, ripping off his cravat. “Keep the pressure on the wound, Victoria. I’ll be right there.”
Using the cravat, he quickly tied Gordon’s hands tightly behind his back in case he regained consciousness. Then grabbing Gordon’s pistol, he turned to Victoria and her father.
“Are you all right?” he asked her, dropping to his knees.
“I’m fine. But Father…”
“Let me look,” he said, gently moving her pressing hands away from her father’s shoulder. “I need you to bring me my knife. Then I want you to gather up the jewels and our tools.”
She scrambled to her feet and seconds later returned with Nathan’s knife. He gently rolled her father onto his back and checked his pulse. Strong and steady. He used his knife to cut away the bloodied jacket and shirtsleeve. Probing the oozing wound on his shoulder, Nathan breathed a sigh of relief. “Flesh wound.” He looked at the purple bruise on Lord Wexhall’s forehead. “Looks like he’s unconscious from knocking his head on the ground.”
“He’s going to be all right?” Victoria asked, kneeling beside him, her arms filled with their belongings.
“Yes. His wound is little more than a scratch, and he has the hardest head of anyone I’ve ever met. I suspect he’ll have a devil of a headache for the next day or so.”
As if to prove his words, Wexhall groaned. They both looked down. “Ooooh, I’ve a devil of a headache,” he murmured. He blinked several times then attempted a smile at his daughter. “Victoria,” he whispered.
“I’m right here, Father,” she said, a catch in her voice.
Nathan heard the pounding of horses’ hooves. Retrieving his gun, he peered around the corner of the crumbling wall. Seconds later Colin rode into view, followed by a man Nathan recognized as the local magistrate.
“Am I too late?” his brother asked, dismounting before he’d even fully reined in.
Nathan smiled. “You’re right on time.”
Several hours later Victoria stood next to her father’s bed, holding his hand. Father, propped up on a mound of fluffy pillows, glared at the assembled group standing around the bed.
“I wish you would all stop staring at me,” he grumbled. “I’m perfectly fit.” The impatience in his voice let Victoria know more than his words that he was telling the truth. “If you don’t believe me, ask my doctor,” he continued, indicating Nathan with a bob of his chin. “I’ve been bathed and bandaged within an inch of my life, and have been told that I have to take a nap. My injuries only look serious because of all these blasted bandages wrapped around me. A sling for my arm, linen strips around my head, why ‘tis ridiculous. I sustained a scratch on my shoulder and bump on my head.”
“I think the bandages make you look rakishly handsome,” she teased. “And rather… helpless.”
“Just how I wish to be viewed,” Father grumbled.
“Consider yourself fortunate that I do, lest I’d be tempted to lay you low for not confiding in your daughter about your secret life as a spy.”
“Or your sister,” Aunt Delia said with a sniff.
“Now see here, Victoria, Delia, I couldn’t very well tell you something like that. It was imperative my identity remain secret.” He sighed. “Of course, the cat’s out of the bag now. Looks like I’ll be retiring.”
“I realize you couldn’t tell, Father.” Victoria leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’m very proud of you.”
Color rushed into his pale cheeks. “Thank you, my dear. As I’m proud of you. A father couldn’t ask for a better daughter.” When Aunt Delia cleared her throat, Father hastily added, “Or a better sister.”
Everyone chuckled, then Nathan’s father said, “Well I for one am anxious to know exactly how this all came about.”
“I think perhaps Colin should begin,” Nathan said. “I’d be very interested to know the details of how he came by this.” He pulled a piece of ivory vellum from his waistcoat pocket and dangled it in front of his brother.
Lord Sutton’s brows shot upward. “Where did you find that?”
“On the balcony of your bedchamber. You must have dropped it during last night’s nocturnal visit.”
Not Quite A Gentleman Page 29