Chapter Nine
It was after eleven o’clock before Anna returned to the castle, happy and triumphant over the victory she could sense was very close now. At least, she assumed that was the reason for her elation. He might have some strange effect upon her, but she was not foolish enough to let that cloud her judgement or interfere with her task.
And she saw no sense in not using the information she was given. Encountering Serena “by accident” as she finished conferring with the housekeeper, Anna threw herself into a chair and enthused about her delightful ride in the direction of Roseley, and casually mentioned that some member of the family had apparently arrived there to stay while the lady of the house was absent.
“Oh, it will be Alban, probably,” Serena said carelessly. “Lady Roseley, his sister-in-law, is in London with her children. He looks after the place for her, I believe.”
Anna allowed herself to look impressed. “The famous Captain Alban?”
After that, it was quite easy to manipulate Serena into riding over there to call. “Or we could wait until tomorrow,” Serena said doubtfully, “when Rupert might come with us. He is poring over books and plans sent up from Tamar Abbey and deciding what next to set in motion. I don’t like to disturb him.”
For the first time, it struck Anna that her brother might actually manage to restore their old home into something habitable, and the land into something profitable, something decent for their people to live on. Which would be a great thing, something she never imagined could happen.
But it would be Serena’s home, not Anna’s. Anna was not destined to be the lady of any manor. Or any home.
“Oh, no,” Anna agreed. “He has taken on a massive task, and of course we must not try to drag him away. But we don’t need him to go out riding, do we?”
Serena, whom she already knew to be surprisingly good company, was a fun and interesting companion on their ride. She pointed out the best views and landmarks and told amusing tales of the trouble she had got into in various places with her older sister and brother. But more than that, she took uninhibited joy in her surroundings. She was one of those rare people who loved life and somehow spread her enthusiasm to everyone she touched. Even the cynical Anna.
“I can see why Rupert married you,” Anna said once.
Serena glanced at her. “Do you mind that he did?”
Anna could have turned that one off easily enough, but she chose to tell the truth. “I thought I might. But I don’t. I’m glad. And not just because you make it possible for him to restore the estate. It’s good to see him happy. And full of purpose.”
Serena held her gaze. “And what of you, Anna? Tamar could give you a dowry now. It might not be anything great considering your rank, but it makes a good marriage likelier.”
Anna curled her lip. “Why would I wish to marry?”
“For a home and children. And happiness, such as I have found with your brother.”
Anna looked away. “I’m not like you. These things don’t interest me.”
“And Sir Lytton?” Serena prodded. “Does he not interest you?”
Anna smiled. “Yes,” she admitted. “But not in the way you are imagining. He could be a friend.” For a moment, she thought Serena might probe further, and in a direction, Anna had no intention of going. She had a feeling Serena knew more of her history than she was comfortable with. For, of course, Rupert would have told her his own part in it. He could only recently have shaken off the “other” Rivers, the extortioner he had caricatured.
But Serena said only, “This is Roseley land, now. The house is just ahead.”
There was a lot of activity around the house and grounds. Everything was being cleaned and repaired, which was only natural if a member of the family had turned up unexpectedly. Everyone bowed and tugged their forelock to Lady Serena, whom they obviously recognized. A boy ran up to take both their horses while a rather villainous looking man sloped inside the house through the front door.
“Don’t be alarmed,” Serena said with a hint of amusement. “That will be one of Alban’s seamen.”
Anna, who had already presumed this, and wasn’t remotely alarmed, merely nodded and smiled.
They were met at the door by a much more respectable footman, who bowed them into a sunny front parlor. Here, a slightly vague, bespectacled young lady came toward them with her hand held out.
“Lady Tamar, how unexpected,” she murmured. “And how pleasant to see you again.”
“I hope we haven’t come at a bad time,” Serena said, her easy manner contrasting with the slightly awkward shyness of her hostess. “We heard a rumor you were here and just had to call in during our ride. Forgive me, I haven’t yet introduced you! This is Lady Anna Gaunt, Tamar’s sister. Anna, Mrs. Lamont, whom we all still call Lady Arabella because her husband has too many other names!”
Lady Arabella shook hands most civilly, rang for tea, and invited her unexpected guests to sit.
“How did you know I was here?” Lady Arabella asked with surprising directness.
“We didn’t,” Serena admitted. “It was a mere rumor, but I am very glad to find you here.”
“And I’m very glad you did,” Lady Arabella said. “Only…you will not tell anyone else, will you?”
“Not if you don’t wish us to,” Serena said at once. “Forgive me, but is everything well?”
Their hostess smiled in a way that raised her pretty face to beauty. “Oh, very well indeed. And I am delighted to see you. It’s just that I came alone because that is how I particularly wish to be.” She blushed. “I am enceinte and have been feeling a trifle too sick for seafaring. Alban landed me here, where I can be both useful and quiet!”
“Oh, how wonderful,” Serena said warmly. “I am so glad for you. We shall say nothing to anyone, and leave you be unless you send for me—which I hope you will if you need anything at all.”
Anna, on the other hand, felt somewhat deflated by this news. There appeared to be no mystery here. The woman had landed at night merely to avoid visitors because she was suffering in the early stages of pregnancy. Of course, she might have been more comfortable in her own home which Anna knew to be in Scotland, or with her own family.
In the room above, the sounds of moving furniture and cleaning could be heard. The inside of the house was clearly getting the same treatment as the outside. A clean and tidy house, would, no doubt, make Lady Arabella more comfortable in the end. Only, it did not seem very restful.
And Lady Arabella herself, while certainly shy and a little vague, was far from being a stupid woman. Or the kind who turned households upside down unnecessarily. Was she mixed up with foreign spies? Anna doubted it, though the husband was, perhaps, a different matter. Was she up to something? Possibly, though Anna could not imagine what.
They did not stay long, since the lady had already told them of her desire for solitude. And in any case, it was a long ride home.
*
At dinner that night, Tamar was full of enthusiasm, regaling them with his plans for the abbey lands. “It will take years of course. But we can make a start immediately and do more every year. If we keep out of the way, they’ll get the work on the house done faster, too, so I was thinking we could just stay here after all, perhaps until early spring? And then we can go down and be comfortable while you order the inside of the house to your liking.”
“I admit I am dying to see it,” Serena admitted warmly.
Tamar cocked one eyebrow at Anna. “What about you? Will you stay here for Christmas? Or go back to Christianne? Go to the abbey if you’d rather.”
“I’ll probably go back to Christianne’s,” she said easily, “if the weather permits.”
It was fortunate and somewhat touching that Serena tried to persuade her to stay at the castle over Christmas at least. For she wasn’t quite sure how long her current task and its aftermath would take. She found she was in no desire to leave. Or to break off all ties with Louis, whatever she persuaded him to say and do. But she wou
ld not think of the future, only the present.
“Oh, do you care to have dinner at the hotel tomorrow evening?” Tamar said suddenly, fishing a crumpled note from his pocket. “Lewis invited us to dine with him.”
*
In the end, Anna didn’t have to wait for the next evening before she met Louis again. She encountered him in the woods that morning while walking alone, as she had more or less trained the household to expect of her. She was sure Mrs. Gaskell threw up her hands in frustration at such unladylike behavior, but by this time, they were all used to Tamar’s eccentricities, so her own, she hoped, were all the more forgivable.
It was no part of her plan to fall out with her hosts, their servants, or their neighbors. In fact, considering why she was there, she felt remarkably…comfortable.
The weather had turned much colder in the last couple of days, though the trees shielded her from the worst of the icy wind. As she walked, she was aware she would be disappointed if Louis did not come.
This time, he did not surprise her. She knew, as soon as she heard the snap of a twig close by, that it was he, and she was already smiling by the time he fell into step beside her.
“I cannot make up my mind,” he said, without any greeting, “whether you look lovelier in sedate morning dress, silken evening gowns, or this delightfully mysterious ensemble from another age.”
“What a kind way to describe my comfortable old riding habit,” she said dryly. “And I suspect I looked best of all when masked!”
“That, too, had a definite charm.”
“Why are we discussing my appearance?”
“Perhaps I hope to flatter you into doing me a service.”
“What?” she asked suspiciously.
“Remove the stitches from my back.”
She frowned. “If you would just do as I ask, we could safely ask a physician to perform the task. He would hurt you less, for one thing.”
“That is by no means certain. Will you do it?”
She sighed. “Of course, I will. But I have no scissors with me, no—” She broke off as he produced a pair. “Sit,” she said resignedly, and he took off his greatcoat and coat before sitting down on the large trunk of a fallen tree and removing his shirt. Even knowing what she had to do, a secret thrill ran through her at the sight of his broad, naked back.
She knelt behind him and began to talk nonsense to distract him while she worked. Although he must have been freezing cold, he was very stoical, letting out no more than the odd hiss of pain when it took him by surprise. Taking the ointment from her pocket, she smeared some more along the red-ridged seam of his wound, then placed a clean dressing over it and began to wrap the bandage around him.
He caught her wrist. “I can do that.”
“So can I,” she said steadily, and after a moment, he released her. She was getting too used to the delicious tingles caused by his touch. She found herself looking forward to them, wallowing in them, remembering them at night before she went to sleep. She wished she could speak to Christianne about it, about what it meant.
It may have been the cold or simple pain that caused his shivering as she helped him back into his shirt.
“The sun has gone,” she murmured, casting a quick glance at the sky as she rose to her feet. “I think that is the end of the fine weather. I hear predictions of rain and wind, and snow to come before long.”
“So do I.” He struggled into his coat, then stood. He was a little white, but otherwise seemed no worse for her ministrations. “So,” he continued, picking up the great coat, “what do you think is going on at Roseley?”
She frowned, pausing as she pulled on her gloves. “How do you know I was there?”
“I knew you would go. What did you find?”
“Lady Arabella, Captain Alban’s wife. She is enceinte and spending some time there to be quiet and peaceful, instead of voyaging with her husband.”
“Do you believe her?”
“Yes.” Anna hesitated. “Although she is conducting a major house cleaning. There may be more than she says going on, but it needn’t be anything to do with you.”
“I know.”
“And your Frenchman?”
“I found a letter,” Louis admitted. “It’s in code, unsigned. But I know who it is from.”
“Who?”
“Fouché.”
Her eyes widened. Fouché had been the French minister of police before Bonaparte had dismissed him. But rumor said the emperor still sought his advice. “Can you prove that?” she asked eagerly.
“Not without the code, and even then, it could as easily have been written to me or anyone else. I have copied it to see if I can make sense of it. But it shows he is here at Fouché’s command, not because he’s gone into hiding before he falls with Napoleon.”
“And this Fouché… Do you trust him?”
“The butcher of Lyon?” Louis said with contempt. “God, no.”
And yet, Fouché must once have been his superior. He had been deserted by those who had commanded his service. Worse than that, they were now trying to kill him for his knowledge before he took it to the British, or perhaps hurt them with it at home. She felt the pain of his betrayal almost as if it were her own. She should have been pleased. He had no one in France to turn to. Only Anna and the shadowy friends she had mentioned could help him. It was all working out, slowly but surely.
He said, “My one hope was that Talleyrand would come back, but he seems to have deserted the sinking ship, too.”
It had never seemed to Anna that the Prince de Talleyrand, lapsed priest, one-time bishop and foreign minister of France, was trustworthy either.
Louis’s smile was twisted, as if he guessed her opinion. “He hates Fouché,” he explained.
“You have no choice, Louis. You must trust me.”
His gaze dropped from her face to her gloved hand, which he took in his. Unexpectedly, he peeled back the edge of her glove and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist.
She gasped. And yet she didn’t pull free. She would need to give something to win him. A few kisses was little enough to grant. To him, at least.
“If I cannot trust the woman who saved my life and kept my secrets,” he said softly, “whom can I trust?”
Suspicion twisted inside her, for she wasn’t sure he meant the words honestly. Did he know? No, he couldn’t, but he always suspected betrayal. There was more to do before he was won. But he was close, so close…
What would he do when he was won? Kiss her? Make love to her? The question, surely, was what she would do. And she didn’t know. All her energy had to be focused on winning this strange, secretive man whose eyes could laugh, beguile, and threaten at the same time. After that…could she tame him?
“I should go,” she said breathlessly, withdrawing her hand at last. “I am only thankful we were not discovered while I cut your stitches.”
“I believe you are joining me for dinner this evening. That is a much more respectable assignation.”
It was, of course, as long as it never came out in Blackhaven that Sir Lytton was the escaped French prisoner, and worse, Bonaparte’s commander of spies. At best, Tamar would look a foolish dupe, and the town would no doubt be annoyed because they had taken their lead from him. And from Winslow, of course, the magistrate Louis had also duped.
*
By early evening, when the Tamars were driven into Blackhaven, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. The fierce, freezing wind hurled rain at the carriage windows, and the damp made everyone feel chilled to the bone. It reminded Anna of long winters at Tamar Abbey, huddled around the kitchen stove, even to sleep, because the bedchambers were so cold and damp.
The Blackhaven Hotel, however, was deliciously warm, with fires burning merrily in the large foyer and the dining room.
At the reception desk, a young couple with two small bags, appeared to be arguing with the staff.
“No, I want the largest suite of rooms on the first floor,” the you
ng man said belligerently, just as Louis emerged from the dining room to greet his guests.
“Good evening,” Louis said, bowing to Serena and Anna before offering his hand to Tamar. “I feel I should apologize for dragging you out on such a night.”
“Oh, it’s perfectly cozy for us,” Tamar observed. “And the horses don’t care. It’s the poor coachman I feel sorry for.”
Louis cast an irate glance at the young man who was growing increasingly loud and angry, and then he looked again. A breath of laughter escaped him.
“Sir, you clearly have no need of such large rooms,” the goaded clerk was saying, indicating the couple’s sparse baggage with a contemptuous wave of one hand.
“Well, the reason there is now so little is that we were held up when we last left here, not an hour away from your wretched little town!” the young man retorted.
And suddenly, his identity was clear to Anna. No wonder Louis had looked twice and laughed. These must be the people he had held up, the eloping couple.
“Goodness,” Serena murmured, awed. “Another hold up.”
“I don’t feel nearly so paltry now,” Louis said. “Excuse me one moment.” He walked immediately to the reception desk, but nothing could have kept Anna or her companions from following him.
What would he do, Anna wondered, if—indeed, when!—the couple recognized him? Look blank and rely on the social standing of his companions? And the apparent history he had already built in Blackhaven?
Anna’s heart beat with excitement as well as concern. If she had to, she would run with him. It would, after all, be a good opportunity to win the rest of his trust. But, on the whole, she would have advised discretion in this situation. The newlyweds were so incensed and concerned for their dignity, they would never have noticed him. Now, he risked everything…for what?
The furious young man was exclaiming to the clerk, “If you are concerned by our lack of servants, they are on their way. Now, hand over the key to the rooms I was promised—”
“Sir, you were not promised,” the clerk insisted. “You were told they might be available, depending on which day you returned. And these rooms are no longer available.”
The Wicked Spy (Blackhaven Brides Book 7) Page 11