The Wicked Spy (Blackhaven Brides Book 7)

by Mary Lancaster

  “They like you,” Mr. Grant said warmly. “It’s an art—being kind without appearing to be. Thank you.”

  “It is easy,” Anna said. “I am not kind.”

  It was only a couple of hours, but they shook her out of her comfort, and she did not even have the satisfaction of encountering, or even seeing Louis. Nor was there any message waiting for her back at the castle.

  As she wandered restlessly, trying to think of the best thing to do, she came upon her brother in a room at the top of the old part of the castle. He and Serena had apartments lower down, but they seemed to have taken over several other disused rooms, too. Rupert had set up his easel and was painting the sea. He did that a lot, in different light and weather and time of day. Like Christianne, he always found the pleasure, the beauty in his surroundings.

  “I hear Grant wants to employ you permanently,” Rupert said cheerfully.

  Anna wrinkled her nose. “He wouldn’t if he had me there permanently.” She walked past him, poking among his brushes and paints until she found a long eye glass of the kind sailors used. “What is this for?” she asked, picking it up.

  “It brings everything closer. Helps me to see the movement of the waves and the ships.”

  Ships. She put it to her eye and looked out to sea. Rupert leaned over and adjusted it for her. He was right. Everything was much closer and sharper, which did not interest her much when there was only the sea to gaze at. But passing vessels, anchored vessels, were another matter. From various places in the castle you could see right around the headland, the town, the harbor and, beach, Blackhaven Cove and, of course, the beach below the castle.

  “Fascinating,” she murmured. “Rupert, may I borrow this?”

  “Whenever you like. Just put it back here when you’re finished so I always know where it is.” He gave a quick, slightly sheepish grin. “It was a gift from Serena.”

  “I always thought you would end up married by accident to some tavern wench or a harridan you were too polite to refuse.”

  He cast her a sardonic glance. “Did you?”

  “You didn’t even marry her for her money.”

  “No,” Rupert agreed. “Although I almost didn’t marry her because of her money.”

  Anna hesitated. She was growing soft, but she wanted him to know she was glad for him. “Christianne will like her,” she said abruptly, then left him.

  *

  With Rupert’s eyeglass, she kept a look-out for distant ships, especially anchored ones that might disgorge boats to come ashore at night. But in truth, the weather was so bad that she barely saw any vessels at all. No one would choose to sail at such a time who didn’t absolutely have to. If they came at all, the visitors Louis expected would surely arrive by land.

  Not that she had the chance to give him her opinion, for he did not contact her that day. Nor did he meet her in the woods the following day. They had made no definite assignation, but still, it had become such a regular meeting that Anna was somewhat piqued by his absence. And then worried.

  “I think I shall go out this afternoon,” she said at lunchtime. “A long ride is just what I need.”

  “Not too long, I hope,” Serena said. “We are expecting guests for dinner this evening.”

  Anna hid her impatience. “Who is coming?”

  “Oh, just the Benedicts, the Grants and the Winslows,” Serena replied. She cast Anna a quick, teasing smile. “And Major Doverton and Sir Lytton to make up the numbers.”

  “Is Sir Lytton still in Blackhaven?” she asked, deliberately careless.

  “Well, he was this morning,” Tamar said. “I met him in the coffee house. He didn’t mention leaving.”

  And that was almost worse. While relieved nothing had befallen him, she could not understand why he was ignoring both her letter and her person.

  Because he has always been using you and no longer needs you. His care, his tenderness, were all a sham.

  Or for some reason he had come to believe hers were.

  I have grown soft, but I will not be reliant. And she certainly would not rely on his assurances that he was watching Roseley. It was time she rode up there and saw for herself.

  But even there, she was foiled. She had not been riding half an hour when Chessy went lame. Examination showed her the mare’s shoe was loose and she had to dismount and lead her mount back to the castle. By then, there was no time to ride to Roseley and back before Serena’s wretched dinner. She toyed with the idea of missing it and going to Roseley anyway, but for some reason it was not easy to be rude to Serena.

  She stayed. Perhaps night was a better time to go anyhow. And at least she would see Louis at dinner.

  Louis, however, was the last to arrive, full of apologies to Serena. If he had ever been the “street brat” he called himself, that child had vanished long ago into the charming, polished gentleman who greeted her with a smile, but no more warmth than he accorded Serena or Catherine Winslow.

  “How do you do, Lady Anna?”

  “Very well,” she replied gravely. “How do you do, Sir Lytton?”

  But there was no secret smile in his eyes. He merely moved on to Mrs. Winslow.

  At dinner, Serena had placed her between “Sir Lytton” and Major Doverton. Catherine Winslow was on Louis’s other side, and he seemed more inclined to speak to her. Anna laughed and flirted with the appreciative Major Doverton, until, finally, Louis turned to her as they finished the fish course.

  “And what have you been doing since I last saw you?” he inquired.

  She searched in vain for the warmth, the veiled teasing in his eyes, and again found nothing. “Writing letters, mainly,” she replied, and lowered her voice. “Did you not receive them?”

  “Of course,” he replied.

  “Then you have been busy?” Too busy to reply remained unspoken.

  “Oh, terribly,” he assured her. “Taking the waters, strolling about the town. When did you say were returning to London?”

  The pain was so unexpected, so sharp that she could not breathe. With cool eyes and bored, careless tongue, he was annihilating her. Only now did she realize how far she had fallen, how much she had given and expected in return. She, who had never been fooled or taken advantage of since she was fourteen years old, had been used up and discarded. As she had meant to do with him, before…

  Before what? Before he had beguiled and enchanted her? Before she had turned into this needy, weak woman she despised.

  “I don’t believe I did say.” Somehow, she managed to turn away from him as the servants cleared away the plates and brought in the next course. By then, she was going through the motions, talking and smiling with Major Doverton while ice reformed around her heart like a life-saving dressing.

  Never, ever would she admit to this pain. She could not bear to think just yet of what to do with him, now that he had so clearly decided he did not need her. But she could and would carry on with the task Henry would have given her had he known anything about it. Then, she would deal with Louis.

  When the ladies finally left the gentlemen to their port and brandy, she excused herself and went to purloin Rupert’s eyeglass once more. It gave her something to do while she planned her next move, which would be to ride in secret to Roseley and discover if Mrs. Lamont had visitors.

  She didn’t really expect to see anything of interest, so when the glass revealed the dark ship anchored beyond the town, she had to look twice to be sure. Partially hidden by the headland, it appeared to be in darkness save for the odd light that came and went.

  It could have been just a ship anchoring to wait out a coming storm. But if anything, the weather seemed calmer, the winds lighter, the air warming enough to begin a thaw. The sea was a little wild, perhaps, but not dangerously so. She wondered if it was Captain Alban, returned with a guest for the vacant hotel rooms…or with whoever Lady Arabella was cleaning the house at Roseley for.

  And where the devil was Banion?

  Excitement surged within her. Toni
ght, surely, the mystery would be solved. But first, she had to get through the remains of the evening. Joining the ladies in the drawing room, she allowed herself to be pulled into conversation which was, fortunately, entertaining for the most part. Catherine Winslow was quieter than most, although she appeared to regard Serena and Kate Grant as her friends. The senior Winslows clearly had a soft spot for Mrs. Grant but were somewhat aloof with Mrs. Benedict, who, as the governess, had married out of her station.

  More for contrariness than compassion, Anna chose to sit by Mrs. Benedict, whom she found to be both wittier and more intelligent than most and was actually in the midst of genuine laughter when the gentleman entered the room.

  Just for an instant, she caught Louis’s gaze on her. She might have imagined the sudden spark in his eyes, or the way they lingered, but it was enough to jolt her, to make her question everything all over again. Though not to change her plans.

  When Serena poured the tea and she took Louis his cup, she murmured, “You should check the hotel tonight.” He inclined his head, accepting the cup.

  Only later, as everyone moved and changed places, did she find him beside her. “Why tonight?” he murmured, as if there had been no interruption to their conversation.

  “There is ship anchored beyond the headland. In darkness.”

  “Show me?”

  She did not answer him, but went to speak to Major Doverton, who had just asked her to sing.

  Only as the guests were leaving, and she joined Tamar and Serena in waving them off from the front steps, did she linger beside Louis, who had ridden up to the castle.

  “Follow me,” she invited, waving the carriages on their way, before she flitted around the side of the castle toward the cliffs. There, she looked again through Rupert’s purloined glass, and then passed it wordlessly to Louis.

  “I think it’s the same ship,” he said. “Alban’s.” He spoke calmly, but his body suddenly seemed full of controlled energy.

  “They could have come ashore by now. You should hurry back to the hotel.”

  He cast her a quick, amused glance. “Thank you. I’m not convinced they will go to the hotel. Alban’s connection is with Roseley.”

  “I will go there,” she said, turning away.

  “No,” he said flatly.

  She ignored that, holding out her hand for the glass. “We might meet in the morning to exchange discoveries. If you can spare the time from your hectic schedule.”

  Mechanically, he dropped the glass into her waiting hand. “Anna—”

  “Goodnight,” she said, walking away.

  “Anna, don’t go up there,” he warned, leaping in front of her. “You don’t know who you’ll be walking into. And Alban’s men are not…gentle! Promise me you will stay in the castle and I will tell you everything I discover in the morning.”

  She laughed. “I promise you nothing and I owe you nothing. Certainly not obedience, Colonel Delon.”

  Perhaps it was foolish to reveal that she knew his identity, but she wanted to stamp on his arrogance for many reasons, at least some of which had nothing to do with her task. But she wouldn’t think of those, only watch his reaction.

  His gaze fixed on her face. His own gave little away, and yet she knew, perhaps from his very stillness, that she had taken him by surprise. And then he smiled. Strangely, it wasn’t an unpleasant smile at all. It was almost…proud.

  “Why, Anna,” he said softly. “You knew all along. Who has been playing with whom?”

  She laughed as though she didn’t care, had never cared, and walked past him back to the front door. He didn’t follow. She thought she might have won back her pride, but it didn’t make her feel better.

  *

  By the time she had returned the glass to Rupert and changed into her boy’s clothing—pantaloons, shirt, coat, and overcoat, with thick leather gloves and sturdy boots—she had done all she could to suppress and banish her own intolerable feelings. Her only thought was to find out who was visiting Roseley. Perhaps then, she would know why and what, if anything, she should do about it. It wouldn’t necessarily be the same as Louis—Delon—might want to do, but that was neither here nor there.

  Some of the stable boys lived in the rooms above the stables. But everything was dark and quiet all over the building as Anna crept in with her lantern. Chessy, her shoe repaired, snorted gently when Anna opened her stall door. She slipped on a bridle and saddle, then led the mare from the stable as quietly as she could.

  The ground outside was soft from the melting snow, muffling the sound of hooves. When they were some distance from the stable, Anna mounted astride and pointed Chessy toward Roseley.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Almost two hours later, the drumming horses’ hooves, approaching from behind, drove her off the road. Abandoning Chessy so that the mare would look, hopefully, like a runaway, she darted ahead on foot, until she found a rocky outcrop to hide behind. Hastily, she doused the lantern, and lay waiting, her heart thundering.

  The galloping hooves had halted. Peering over the rock, Anna saw the light from several lanterns and a group of men in a huddle some distance down the road.

  Devil take them, they’ve stopped for Chessy… The mare’s distinctive whinny preceded a sudden canter as the mare apparently eluded them. Hopefully before they discovered the saddle was still warm. She just hoped Chessy wouldn’t bolt seriously and stray too far, for she still had to get back to Braithwaite Castle.

  Low, male voices drifted to her on the breeze. One, more distinct than the others, said, “It looks like she’s just thrown her rider and is enjoying her freedom.”

  “Perhaps,” said another, more short and abrupt. “Keep your eyes open and your pistols cocked.”

  Wriggling further up the rock, Anna took Rupert’s glass from her pocket and pointed it toward the group of men. Some of them had dismounted. A couple were searching around the rocks and scrubby bushes.

  “If you would, sir,” the short voice said impatiently. “We need to keep moving. My men will find anyone lurking in the vicinity.”

  No sooner had he spoken than a gloved hand clamped over Anna’s mouth and she was dragged flat onto the ground behind the rock while the weight of a man’s body held her helpless.

  Old fears surged into the new ones, and just for an instant, panic screamed in her head, for she could not move, not to turn on her attacker, not even to bite the hand over her mouth.

  And then she realized those were words being breathed into her ear, in French. “C’est moi. C’est moi. Louis.”

  And although her whole body wanted to sob with mingled fury and relief, she forced herself to relax. His weight shifted, his hand released her mouth. And she finally saw why he had dragged her down.

  Someone was approaching on foot from the opposite direction to the horsemen and would easily have seen her in another moment.

  “All clear ahead,” the newcomer called softly, and the men returned to their horses. One of them had a distinct, yet oddly graceful limp. He swung himself into the saddle without aid, although a smaller man hovered close by him as though anxious to help. The horses moved forward, once more at a rapid pace.

  Anna flattened herself at the foot of the rock, but she could not resist casting her gaze upward as the riders galloped past. Their lantern light flickered over the face of the lame man, who was not young but possessed a haughty, curiously refined face.

  Louis’s arm remained heavy across her shoulders, both a warning and a secret comfort.

  When the riders were far enough ahead, she threw him off and sat up. “Who are they?”

  “The one giving the orders is Captain Alban,” Louis murmured.

  “And the lame man? Do you know him?”

  “Yes.” Even in the darkness, she saw the brief gleam of his smile.

  “Then he is French… Who is he, Louis?”

  “I can’t tell you that until I know what you will do.”

  She reached for her lantern and the flint in her
pocket. When the light flared up over his enigmatic face, she met his gaze. “What will you do?”

  “I don’t know yet. It depends on who he is here to meet and why.”

  “Did you know it was him?” she said suddenly. “Is that why you no longer have need of me?”

  He looked away, and she wished she hadn’t asked, hadn’t acknowledged the change in him. But she would not give in to the pain, to the weakness. She would find out alone who the arriving Frenchman was, and why he was there.

  But before she could move, his gaze suddenly returned to her, pinning her. “I didn’t know until I saw him. And for the rest…perhaps I am learning to be the gentleman I pretend to be.”

  She stared, and then deliberately curled her lip. “What a pity. I liked you better before.”

  She rose to her feet, looking around for Chessy. Her lantern picked up a horse-shaped figure a hundred yards or so across the moor. The mare appeared to have found something to eat.

  “Where are you going?” Louis asked as Anna began to walk in that direction.

  “To Roseley.”

  “Don’t be foolish. Alban’s men will have the house and grounds totally secure.”

  Anna did not pause. “We shall see.”

  For the first time, he appeared to be genuinely flustered. “What will you do?” he demanded, catching up with her. “Claim acquaintance with Lady Arabella? In this guise?”

  She laughed, spreading her hands. “I could be a stable boy, could I not?”

  “No,” he said flatly. “Anna, I am trying to keep you safe. It’s all to keep you safe.”

  “I don’t need you for my own safety,” she said with contempt, and was even angrier when he actually fell back. She refused to look behind her until a cry of distress made her spin around in time to see Louis dragging someone upright from the long grass.

  Instantly, she strode toward them, holding her lantern high. The discovered man swung wildly at Louis, who seemed to catch him with ease, twisting his arm up his back while holding him still. The light played across the features of Mr. Banion.