The Surrender of Miss Fairbourne

by Madeline Hunter

  She had decided not to contemplate the future, or whether she might find herself soon with a real gaoler, instead of this one who offered protection and sanctuary as well as restraint.

  Southwaite made the horse stop and stand still. It wanted to bolt. He said something that she could not hear and its ears went up, then back. It gave up the effort to rebel, and seemed to smile when he patted its neck. He let it move, but only at a walk. He paced it over to her.

  “We will go back to the house soon,” he said.

  “I do not mind. I enjoy watching the horses. Do not leave because of me.”

  He nodded, then rode over to a gate on the enclosure. He lifted a latch and rode out. One subtle signal, and the stallion broke into a gallop across the field beyond.

  She went to a wooden bench set against the stable and waited. Her feet dangled a bit, sticking out prominently from below her hem. She looked down and laughed at herself. She had forgotten how odd she looked today.

  She wore low boots loaned by one female servant and a dress from another that was a little too short. Her bonnet had been found in Lydia’s chamber and, since it was very plain, fit her ensemble nicely. How she and Southwaite had laughed when she dressed in this assemblage of borrowed items.

  She had suggested he just send someone to the cottage for her own things. He had refused, saying she would do fine for him as she was. That had been charming, and the kiss he gave her distracting, but that refusal had come with a finality that suggested those clothes would remain in that cottage for a reason.

  He did not intend to stay here with her forever and let this idyll spin out for weeks. She would remain here until he knew she was safe, he had said. She guessed they were waiting for something to happen so he would know that.

  He rode the horse in her direction, teaching it to trot. The stallion made it clear he did not like the silly gait. She heard Southwaite laugh as the horse rebelled in clever little half steps. Then he stopped, and his attention was on neither the horse nor her.

  Another rider galloped on the field. He was close enough that she guessed he had been heading to the stable when he saw Southwaite on the field. They met out there and talked, then rode back to where she sat. The other man was Viscount Ambury.

  Southwaite dismounted and called to the grooms to saddle his bay gelding. Ambury greeted her.

  “I trust your visit has been restful, Miss Fairbourne,” he said.

  “Quite restful, thank you. Have you come to rest as well? I expect the Season was exhausting.”

  Ambury smiled oddly and nodded. “Southwaite has been boasting about a young racehorse he bought. I came to see it put through its paces.”

  A groom brought out the gelding. “Ambury and I are going to ride back to the house,” Southwaite said. “The carriage will bring you.” He took her hand and led her to the carriage and handed her up.

  He appeared serious and thoughtful. Rather suddenly, he had hardened in many small ways, and it even affected how he spoke to her.

  She looked to where Ambury waited. “Has something happened?”

  “Nothing. I will explain later.” He raised her hand and kissed it. Ambury managed to be looking elsewhere right then.

  Southwaite swung into his saddle, and he and Ambury rode away.

  “What are you looking at?” Darius asked. He and Ambury slowed to a walk as they rode up the lane to the front of Crownhill. Ambury kept looking his way with disapproval. Darius guessed why, and it was better to have it out now. “You look like a man who has something critical to say.”

  “It is not for me to criticize your handling of this matter, especially as it concerns Miss Fairbourne,” Ambury said. “I will leave that to Kendale, who, I should warn you, is going to be in rare form when he learns that she is here, and not where we expect her to be.”

  “I will deal with Kendale.” Damned if he knew how. Kendale would accuse him of jeopardizing the entire mission. Which he had.

  “I also will not mention that it is apparent the lady does not know you intend to interfere beyond stopping her. She certainly did not expect to see others arrive.”

  “I will explain it all to her soon.”

  “Nor is it for me to point out that your letters made demands on me that I loathed accommodating. Calling on Penthurst to ask him to intercede with the home secretary was particularly distasteful.”

  “We both know Kendale would have never agreed to do those things.”

  “How fortunate I am to be so agreeable, then. I am heartened that you find my character convenient to your purposes.”

  Darius assumed that having itemized his annoyances, Ambury would be contented. He caught his friend giving another sharp look in his direction, however.

  “Disapproval does not suit you, Ambury. You look too much like my aunt Amelia when you purse your mouth like that.”

  “I am not pursing my mouth. I am not even disapproving. I will admit, however, to being confounded. Even, perhaps, astonished.”

  “By what?”

  “You and Miss Fairbourne.”

  “I am never judgmental of your affairs, but then, I know it is dangerous to tell a man that his lady is not suitable.”

  “An affair? I was not criticizing an affair that I was not even aware of, I assure you. I assumed you spared her due to having a tendre for her, true, but I did not guess you had seen such success as an affair would necessitate.”

  “Perhaps you think that I should not be showing her the consideration that I am, affair or not. Perhaps you want to hand her over to the Home Office’s brutes for her role in this. I am prepared for Kendale telling me I should have let it play out so we were sure to capture the whole of the web, but—”

  “Again you presume to know my mind when you do not. I expect us to capture them all anyway, with only slightly more danger to it, and I would never countenance handing a woman over to—that.”

  They pulled up their horses in front of Crownhill, and dismounted.

  “If you must know, Southwaite, I am appalled that you would allow that poor woman to be dressed like she was. It is to her credit that she wore that hideous and ill-fitting dress as if it were the finest silk and refused to be embarrassed by your thoughtlessness.”

  Darius had not thought Emma looked hideous. He had not even noticed the dress after they laughed over it. “We had to make do.”

  “You should have done better.” Ambury shook his head. “The poor woman.”

  They immediately went to the library. Kendale waited there. So did a small arsenal. Pistols, muskets, and bags of powder cluttered the tables.

  “There are three of us and five muskets,” Darius said, examining the display of arms.

  “I like to have extras, all loaded, ready, and well placed,” Kendale said. “There are more in my carriage, if you want some too.”

  “I am much better with a pistol,” Darius said.

  “You will remember that the goal is to take them alive, I hope,” Ambury said to Kendale while he lifted a musket and sighted along its barrel.

  “I’m the least of your worries. And if we are not careful, whoever gets off that boat will be the least of ours. I don’t like having to worry about my back while I am charging forward.”

  “You have no reason to believe Tarrington and his lads will betray you,” Darius said.

  “You have no reason to believe they won’t, except the sworn word of a criminal.”

  “I happen to have had experience with how well Tarrington keeps his word.”

  “He’d better, since he is holding Hodgson now, who is surely trying to bribe him.”

  Ambury pulled out his pocket watch. “We leave in three hours. The others should be here soon. Have you heard from London? Has the post arrived?”

  “Not yet.”

  “And if no letter comes?”

  Darius assumed one would.

  “We go anyway,” Kendale said. “The weather is fair. The channel is calm enough. Hopefully this finishes tonight and we aren’t a
t it a fortnight from now. Mistakes get made if there is too much waiting. That Fairbourne woman may conclude she is on a fool’s errand if she signals night after night and no one comes.”

  Ambury set down the musket, then gave Darius a meaningful look. “You had better tell him.”

  “Tell me what?” Kendale eyed them both.

  “Miss Fairbourne will not be signaling. She is not at the cottage,” Darius said.

  Kendale was not nearly as angry as Darius had expected, but then, he did not know all of it yet. True, he cursed loudly, but then he turned philosophical. “I suppose she could not face doing such a thing. That speaks well of her, but it means we are wasting our time here.”

  “She is not needed. We know a boat is coming. We will have Hodgson meet it, and we can—”

  “Do you intend to wear a dress and go up on that cliff walk? Because we do not know if Hodgson is the only one who will be meeting that boat. Hell, for all we know someone else will be watching everything that happens.”

  “Neither place is easily watched. The hill with the cliff walk is barren and open, and the road behind it very visible,” Darius said.

  Kendale shook his head. “We can wait on the shore, and near the house, to see what can be done, but at best you will grab another courier tonight.”

  “What if the puppet dances as commanded? What if I make the signal, and wait at the cottage the way I was told to?”

  Darius pivoted at the sound of Emma’s questions. She stood in the doorway in that old dress with the half boots sticking out below the hem. The garments were ridiculous, he had to admit, but she appeared quite regal anyway.

  Silence fell in the library as all of them looked at her. Kendale’s surprise gave way to a steely, knowing gaze that he turned on Darius. “When you explained she was not at the cottage, you did not mention that she was here instead.”

  “A mere oversight,” Ambury soothed.

  “Miss Fairbourne is my guest,” Darius said.

  “Hell,” Kendale hissed under his breath.

  “It would be better if you leave this to us and retire to your chamber, Miss Fairbourne,” Darius said brusquely.

  “I do not think it would be better at all. It sounds to me as if you have planned an intervention, but my absence will make your success unlikely. If so, I need to do my part.”

  “It is too dangerous,” Darius said. “Please leave us now.”

  She flushed at his tone. She refused to budge.

  Damnation, of all times for her to get stubborn. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her away from this library. He strode over to her and trusted she saw how close he was to doing just that.

  “Go now, Emma.” He kept his voice low and private but did not stint on the force of will behind his words.

  “I want to do it. I need to.”

  “No. You are out of this.”

  A rebellious, resentful expression tightened her face. He half expected her to start a row right here in front of Kendale and Ambury. Instead she turned on her heel and walked out. He shut the door behind her.

  As he rejoined them, Kendale made much of looking out the window. Ambury occupied himself with the ritual of pouring some brandy.

  “What she says is true, Southwaite,” Ambury said, finally. “You know it is.”

  “No.”

  “I will stay with her,” Kendale said. “At the first sign of danger to her I will act. I’ll kill anyone who tries to harm her.”

  “You can’t stay with her on that damned cliff walk,” Darius snapped.

  “I can stay close enough to stop a man with a musket ball.”

  “Not once they are in the cottage. We have no guarantee they will even leave come morning. It could be days that she is alone with them. I will not allow that.”

  Kendale understood the danger. He would no more leave a woman that vulnerable than Darius would, and he no longer pressed the matter.

  “Suppose we put someone in that cottage with her. You, for example. Up above, in one of the bedchambers,” Ambury said. “You could keep an ear on her, if not an eye, Southwaite. As for their hiding there for days, we will find a means to discourage their even remaining one night.”

  “What you propose hardly ensures her safety. She will remain here. I will not discuss it further.”

  Kendale strode to the door.

  “Damn, where are you going?” Darius said.

  “To learn the lady’s mind on it. You are not her father or brother or any relative. Unless there has been a wedding I don’t know of, she is not under your authority. She has the right to make her own choice, seems to me.”

  Darius saw red. He started after Kendale, to stop him. A tight grasp on his upper arm interfered.

  He turned on Ambury. “I was going to thrash Kendale but you will do if you insist.”

  “Thrash if you want. Better that than you forget who you are and why we are even here.” Ambury’s voice urged calm, but he did not release his hold. “She came within a feather of treason, Southwaite. Would you deny her the chance to right that in her mind? There can be nothing between you until she does.”

  He wanted to punch Ambury for that. He pictured Emma telling Kendale she was willing and his head almost split. He wanted to lock her away, and cursed himself for keeping her with him instead of sending her to the ends of the earth to protect her.

  His fury gathered, darkened, and broke like a storm’s wave. But it ebbed after that, and sense began giving shape to more rational thoughts. All that was left then was cold determination.

  Chapter 30

  “You are sure that you know what to do and say?”

  Southwaite asked the question yet again. Emma nodded. She tried to reassure him with her eyes and her touch, but he was not a man to be appeased this evening.

  “Tell me,” he said. “Repeat it all back to me so I know there is no misunderstanding.”

  “I am to take the lanterns and go to the cliff walk, as planned. No matter what I see on the coast, I am to make the signal.”

  “Kendale will be where he can see you. No one should approach you, Emma. If you see anyone around, anyone at all—”

  “I know. You have told me. I will be fine, Darius. I will not get myself hurt.”

  “The rest. Tell me the rest.”

  “I then go back to the cottage, and put a lantern in the window, and wait.”

  “It could be a long wait. They will be out to sea, close enough to see the light on the cliff, but far enough to run if they must.”

  “Yes, I know. You have explained this many times, Darius. When the man from the boat is brought to me, I will say that I am sure someone was following me back. I will make sure they conclude it is not safe to stay with me and that they must change their plans.”

  “I will be up above. If there is any threat to you, if one of these blackguards even looks at you oddly, you are to—”

  “I will cry out, so you know you are needed.” She raised her head and kissed him. “I will feel perfectly safe, knowing you are there.”

  He slid his arm around her and embraced her. His hold proved a balm to her nerves, which were more unsettled than she revealed.

  It had been kind of Ambury and Kendale to allow her this brief time alone with Darius. She heard the horse hooves hitting the ground alongside. Not only two horses made the sounds. Three others had come while Viscount Kendale spoke to her. Gentlemen all, she assumed they had been called from properties nearby.

  “I told Kendale about my brother,” she said. “I gave him a description of Robert, so if anyone on this boat claimed that identity, he might know if it were true. He said he would be there with Tarrington, to take the boat after the spy left the coastline.”

  Darius said nothing to that. She knew he did not think Robert would ever be released. He still thought Robert was dead, and Stupid Man and his master had taken advantage of hers and Papa’s refusal to accept the truth.

  “When they leave the cottage, what then?” She had b
een told her role, but little else. She doubted Lord Kendale trusted her enough for that. He probably had guessed that Darius had physically prevented her from becoming a traitor.

  “You will be out of this, finally,” he muttered.

  “I mean what will happen with them?”

  “They will be followed. The hope is to have the new man lead us to the ones who have the information. It is why he is here. Hodgson—the man whom you met and know—will be taken when they separate. He expects it. He agreed to betray his mission, and you, to save his neck, but he will not go free.”

  “Maybe he also has a relative that he sought to redeem.”

  “He did it for money, Emma. Most do.”

  The curtains were closed on the carriage, but she knew they were approaching the cottage even without being able to see the passing land. Darius must have too. His embrace became all-encompassing and he gave her a kiss so sweet that her love tore at her heart.

  “When this is over, you and I need to come to a right understanding about some things, Miss Fairbourne.”

  “I expect we do.” She wished she could think he was being flirtatious or teasing. Only he did not speak lightly, but most seriously.

  She did not expect that right understanding to be pleasant. When this was over, he would calculate the costs to his honor of loving her. She did not expect to fare well in that judgment.

  The horse slowed. The carriage came to a stop. She turned in his arms and kissed him. She put the future out of her mind while she did, and filled her head and heart with memories of the last two days together, and the beauty she had known sharing passion with a man she loved.

  Then the carriage door opened and they were awash in the waning light of the evening. She and Darius walked to her father’s cottage while the carriage and five gentlemen on horseback peeled away.

  Emma waited in the small library of the cottage. She kept candles burning, and remained in a chair where she could be seen from the window should anyone peer inside. She sat in that chair for three hours with no sign of Stupid Man Hodgson or a spy or anyone else.