"Don't move, Your Grace. It would appear that you have been clubbed over the head. I knew I shouldn't have left you alone with her last night." Julian gave Colonel Grimsley a confused look, while Grimsley tried to push his head back onto the pillow. "I have sent for a doctor. Let us hope he will be here shortly, Your Grace."
"To hell with that," Julian murmured. As his eyes focused on the room, he wondered if Grimsley had noticed the disarray and had drawn his own conclusion. "Did the Swallow escape?" he managed to ask.
"It would appear so, Your Grace. When you didn't arrive at our meeting place by sunup, I rode back to see what had detained you. I found you lying unconscious on the floor, with a knot on your head as large as a robin's egg. Did the Swallow do this to you?"
Julian clasped his hands on either side of his head, feeling as if the roof had caved in on him. His eyes narrowed with unleashed anger. "Apparently she did, although I do not remember exactly how that was accomplished. She must have had an accomplice to help her."
"Try not to think about it now, Your Grace. You just lie back and rest until the doctor arrives."
Julian pushed Grimsley's helpful hand away. "Don't coddle me," he snapped. "If you don't have anything better to do, you can make inquiries below. Someone must have seen the Swallow, or at least noticed which way she rode away." Julian realized he had been lashing out at Grimsley, when he should be directing his anger at himself. This time he alone was responsible for the Swallow's escape. It would seem he had allowed her to make a fool of him again.
Julian stood up slowly and walked to the window. Every step he took was like a hammer pounding in his head. He had been no better than the Swallow's other victims when it came to resisting her charms. True, she had gone further with him than she had with the others, because she had ended up giving her body to entrap him. How soft and silken had been the web she had woven around him last night, driving him out of his mind, making him forget his dead brother.
He turned back to Colonel Grimsley, who looked befuddled, and in a kinder voice he said, "It was not your fault she got away, Grimsley. You did everything that was expected of you. I am the one who allowed her to escape."
"I don't understand what happened, Your Grace. How could she have routed you?"
Julian's eyes flamed, and he felt an anger so strong it pushed every other emotion from his mind. His reasoning was twisted, his feelings too raw and near the surface to examine closely. Now his need for revenge had taken on a deeper, more prominent urgency. The Swallow had gone beyond making a fool of him, she had drawn on his deepest feelings, only to throw them back in his face.
"I made the same mistake that all the other fools before me made, Grimsley. I underestimated the Swallow. She lulled me into passiveness, and I wrongly began to trust her. I, alone, bear the blame for allowing her to escape—" He lowered his voice, realizing for the first time what his brother must have felt when the Swallow had lured secrets out of him. "—and mine is the dishonor," he whispered.
* * *
Lavender kept moving restlessly about the garden room. Several times she moved to the window and gazed toward the stables, searching for some indication that Julian had returned. It was past noon and there was yet no sign of him. She was half out of her mind with worry. What if Nicodemus had hit him harder than he had intended? What if Julian were still lying injured at the Swan Tavern?
She heard the sound of a rider in the distance and held her breath, forcing herself not to run down the garden path toward the stable to see if it was Julian. Her eyes did not waver as she stood silently waiting for whomever it was to come down the path so she could see who it was. When she heard the sound of boot steps on the brick walkway, and saw Julian come into sight, her heart took wings. He was all right!
"Come away from that window at once, Lavender. Have you no shame?" Lavender had not been aware that her aunt had come up behind her to peer over her shoulder, the usual frown creasing her brow. "A proper lady would never allow a gentleman to discover her gaping at him from a window. If you are in want of something to occupy your time, you can wax the banisters."
"Yes, Aunt Amelia," Lavender replied, hurrying away. She did not want to encounter Julian until she was certain whether he had discovered that she was the Swallow. She lingered in the pantry, with the pretense of searching for the misplaced beeswax, giving Julian time enough to go upstairs to his chambers.
It was late afternoon when word came down from the hospital that Brainard Thruston wanted to see Lavender. Wearily she removed her apron, hooked it on a wooden peg by the kitchen door, and placed her straw bonnet on her head. She had already decided she was going to tell Brainard that she was going to retire as the Swallow. While she walked the few blocks to the hospital, she rehearsed in her mind what she would say to him.
By the time she climbed the steps of the redbrick building, Lavender was ready to present her case to Brainard. But by the time Sarah had met her at the door and led her to one of the small, out-of-the-way offices and then disappeared, Lavender was not so sure she could carry through with her plan.
Gathering up all her determination, she rapped on the door. The knock was answered by a smiling Brainard. "You look wonderful," he said, leading her to a corner chair and seating her. "But then, you always look wonderful."
She wrinkled her nose and laughed. "You know that is an exaggeration. No one but you would make that kind of remark with me dressed as I am."
"Perhaps, but, you see, I know what you look like when your hair is flying free, and when you are wearing lovely gowns that enhance your beauty. I have seen you daze a roomful of men into stunned silence merely by walking through a door."
"I do not particularly like flattery, Brainard, it makes me uncomfortable." She untied the ribbon beneath her chin and removed her bonnet.
"I merely spoke the truth."
Looking up into his soft gray eyes, she knew the time was right to tell him what she had decided. "Brainard, if you have called me here to send me on a mission, 1 think you should know I have made the decision to withdraw from your service. In my current state of mind, I fear I will no longer be able to do an effective job for you."
He seated himself on the edge of the paint-chipped desk and stared at her. "I cannot guess what your state of mind might be, but 1 cannot possibly do without you, Lavender. Although you have gone beyond what was expected, we cannot lose you, because you are far too important to our cause."
Somehow she had expected him to be more understanding. Perhaps he did not understand the danger she had encountered last night. "Did Nicodemus tell you how close I came to being captured at the Swan Tavern?"
"Yes, and that proves my point. If the British have become so bold as to set a trap for you, they must want you pretty badly. That has to mean you are hitting them where it hurts. Lavender, I have to make you see that we have to go on hitting at them until they give up the fight. If I had a hundred like you we would soon make short work of this war."
She drew in a deep sigh. "Lately I have begun to wonder what it would feel like to live as a normal human being. I am weary, Brainard."
His eyes dulled. "Many of us feel the same way you do, but we don't have the luxury of giving up. Your success against the British has given my department great recognition by Congress. You can't quit now."
She had often noticed that when Brainard became agitated about something, his left eye twitched, as it was doing now. She glanced down at his hands and found them balled into fists. "I have outlived my usefulness, Brainard. To go on now would be to court folly." She shook her head. "I admit to being frightened."
He studied the tip of his brown boot. "I can never tell you how much you have contributed to our cause. Most probably your brave exploits will go unrecognized, and no one will ever know what you have done for your country. But can you walk away from your obligations?"
Lavender thought she must be mistaken. Did his voice have a threatening tone to it? "What I did was neither for recognition nor because I fe
lt obligated. It was done for love of my father and my country, and nothing more."
"That is what I told Thomas Jefferson when I saw him three weeks ago. He could not risk putting pen to paper, but he asked me to convey his fondest appreciation and admiration to you on behalf of a grateful government." Brainard's eyes glowed with an inner light. "And he asked me to tell you that America needed more patriots like you."
Lavender was silent for a long moment. "I am grateful for Governor Jefferson's recognition, but that cannot be the reason you sent for me today." She studied Brainard's face. "What do you want of me?"
He walked behind the desk and sat down. Before he answered her, he picked up the quill pen and rolled it between his fingers. "I want to know everything you can tell me about this Julian West. I had someone check on him as you asked. No one my man asked in Georgia had ever heard of him."
She hesitated to answer, wishing she did not have to talk about Julian, because her feelings concerning him were still too raw and near the surface. But Lavender knew she had to tell Brainard Julian's true identity. "You are aware that he is a lodger at my aunt's house, are you not?"
"Yes, and 1 find it more than coincidental that the man who set a trap to catch you is also living under the same roof."
"Yes, 1 agree with you, but I hasten to add that he is still not aware that I am the Swallow."
Brainard laughed without humor. "I would love to see his face if he ever found out the woman he sought so diligently was right under his nose the whole time. It should be a great satisfaction to you, knowing you made a fool of him."
The thought that she had made a fool out of Julian brought no satisfaction to her, and she was surprised that Brainard found it amusing. She was beginning to believe that she did not really know Brainard at all. "It is my hope that if the Swallow disappears from sight, he will soon become discouraged and return to England."
"I doubt that will be the case. But you need have no concern, Lavender. You will find that we in the clandestine service of the government are very loyal to one another." His eyes became glazed and he pounded his fists on the desk. "I will make it my business to take this man into custody. He will rue the day he set out to bring you down."
She stood up, feeling uneasy. The last thing she wanted was to have Brainard arrest Julian. "I am sure that will not be necessary. As I said, it is my belief he will become discouraged and return to England. Besides, Brainard, you have no authority to take such a step."
Brainard looked at her with a strange expression on his face, and his voice was hard when he spoke. "Sit down, Lavender. I want you to tell me what you know about Julian West. I asked Nicodemus, but he would say nothing. Surely you do not want this man to go unpunished?"
Divided loyalties warred within her mind. While it was true that Julian was the enemy, and he had set a trap for her, she did not want to betray him.
Brainard seemed to sense her dilemma and he spoke. "You must realize if Nicodemus had not come to your rescue last night, you would now be in the hands of the British, and you know what they do to spies."
"Yes, I know. Spies are executed by the British Army, the same as they are by ours."
"It is your duty to tell me whatever you can about the man." His voice was cold, his eyes hard.
She nodded in agreement. If she was going to be loyal to her country, it meant putting personal feelings aside. Brainard was right about one thing; if Nicodemus had not rescued her last night, her bed tonight would have been in a British prison. "His name is not Julian West, but Julian Westfield. He is the Duke of Mannington."
Brainard whistled through his teeth and slowly stood up, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "The devil you say? You must be a very large thorn in the British side if they send a duke all the way from England to capture you. I wonder what his reason could be?"
"From what I gather, I must have used his brother at one time to gain information. Apparently the brother was disgraced and . . . killed himself."
"Well, whatever the reason, we shall benefit from it. We will certainly use this to our best advantage. Can you imagine the bargaining power I could wield if I were to capture an English duke?"
Lavender felt sick inside. Suddenly, war and intrigue had lost its appeal to her. She was weary of games, deceit, and power struggles. "I will not be a party to capturing a man who is staying under my aunt's roof, Brainard. Please do not ask this of me."
His eyes had a calculating glaze, and he took her hand, pulling her to her feet. "A strange reaction, I must say. I can tell you right now, the duke would not subscribe to the same fair play where you are concerned."
"You cannot depend on me to help you in this, Brainard," she stated with determination.
"I insist, Lavender. This man has to be stopped, and you are the only one who can do it."
"No, I will not do this. Before when you asked my help, the men were nameless and faceless. I will not help you capture the duke for your own personal glory." She knew there must be a way to warn Julian of the danger without giving herself away or betraying others. After all, Julian was not a threat to Brainard's operation. He only wanted the Swallow and had no interest in anyone else.
Brainard stared at her for a long moment. "Perhaps I will not need your help in this. But I cannot act until I receive instructions from my superior."
It did not matter to Lavender that Julian had set a trap for her. Never mind that he would have handed her over to the British if she had not escaped last night. She ached at the thought of him being captured. There was a bitter taste in her mouth, and she recognized it as the taste of betrayal. Why should she feel any loyalty to Julian? He was her enemy, and he had certainly felt no reservation about taking her prisoner. How well she remembered lying in Julian's arms last night, and the first stirrings of desire he had awakened in her body. She had belonged to him more surely than she would ever belong to another man.
She was feeling numb as she moved to the door, knowing she would have to find a way to warn Julian— but how? It should take Brainard several weeks to receive instructions on what to do about Julian. She would be watchful and alert, and at the first sign of trouble, she would decide what was to be done.
"If you are finished with me, Brainard, I am going home now."
"Wait, I have something more to say. 1 know you have already concluded that there must be a British informant among us. How else would the Englishman have known enough to lure you to the inn with the idea of taking you prisoner. 1 want you to have a care while I do some checking into this matter."
"I had wondered if someone had betrayed me. But how can it be? We have been extremely cautious, and only you, Sarah, Forbes, myself, and Nicodemus knew about the meeting."
"It's my theory that whoever the person is, he is operating out of this hospital. Hopefully he does not know that you are the Swallow or he would have come after you before now. Even so, you must be careful all the same. By the way," he said, turning the conversation. "I have a message to you from your brother."
Her eyes brightened. "You talked to Chandler?"
He laughed and became the lighthearted person she had always thought him to be. "No, your brother talked and I listened. I have seldom had such a raking over. You cannot imagine how angry he was with me."
"Yes, I can imagine. My brother was not in the least pleased to discover that I am the Swallow," she returned in an even tone. "What was his message to me?"
"He instructed me to say he was having the house in Richmond put in order to accommodate the both of you as soon as the war has ended. He also said he would be calling on you in the near future."
Happiness glowed in her eyes. For the moment her brother's message had chased away all the dark shadows. "I will look forward to seeing Chandler."
Brainard picked up her gloved hand and placed a soft kiss on the inner wrist. "I always look forward to seeing you, Lavender."
Lavender drew back, not wanting any intimacy between the two of them. She remembered allowing Brainard to k
iss her that day in her aunt's garden, and she now regretted that. "You have been a friend, Brainard. I will miss you, but I meant what I said. I will no longer be the Swallow."
He took her bonnet from her hands and placed it on her head, tying the ribbon under her chin. "I intend to be more than your friend. I promise you this is not good-bye for us, Lavender. I want to remind you to be cautious. We cannot be sure what Julian Westfield doesn't know about you."
"I will be careful," she assured him. "But I was serious when I told you I will no longer be the Swallow."
He led her to the door, his jaw clamped together tightly. "We shall see, Lavender. For now, you had better leave. We don't want anyone to become suspicious."
Lavender slipped quietly out the door. As she made her way down the corridor, she realized that she would miss Brainard, and perhaps she would miss the excitement that had filled her life for so long. She had many things to reflect on, because in two short days, her life had changed dramatically.
When Lavender reached her aunt's house, it was past the dinner hour, so she took the back entrance through the garden to save time. The rosy hue of twilight had given way to the dark purple of night. The scarlet crape myrtle bush was in full bloom, and the bright-colored petals were scattered across the brick walkway. The night seemed to come alive with hundreds of fireflies, making the garden a place of enchanted beauty.
Although Lavender knew she was in for a scolding from her aunt for being late to dinner, she could not resist pausing to breathe in the sweetly scented air. She was so entranced with the beauty around her that she did not see Julian standing in the pathway behind her. Taking a step backward, she came up against his hard, muscled body, and froze. His steadying hand rested briefly on her shoulder before he released her.
"I wonder who will be around for you to trip over after I am gone, Miss Daymond?" He sounded perturbed, as he always did when speaking to his landlady's niece, so she relaxed. Her secret was safe. Julian did not suspect her of being anyone other than the clumsy Lavender who stammered and kept tripping over him.
Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) Page 16