Come the Dawn

by Christina Skye

  After a moment Devlin shrugged and turned back to his companion. “I suppose you’re right. They wouldn’t dream of flouting my orders, especially not after I told Andrew what punishment would await them if they were caught in another escapade like today’s. Very well then, where shall it be next?”

  The widow’s eyes glittered. “Why not the Dark Walk?” Her hand toyed with the curve of his ear. “It would be so deliciously exciting to be there alone with you.”

  As Thorne stood undecided, a clock somewhere in the grounds struck the half-hour. He had another half an hour to wait until midnight, when he was to track his prey to a covert meeting at the far end of the pleasure grounds. Until then he needed a good excuse to be present and there could be none more obvious than the attractions of a woman such as Lady Marchmont.

  “Very well, my lady,” he said. “The Dark Walk it is.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “Why are you here so early? You weren’t supposed to meet me until midnight.” A tall figure in a navy domino waited just outside the gazebo near the end of the Dark Walk. In the shadows across from him stood another man.

  “There’s something strange going on,” his companion said tightly. “There are guards at every gate. If I didn’t know better I’d say somehow the news has gotten out.”

  “Nonsense. You’re just imagining problems, the way you always do.” The man’s voice fell. “Now show me that diamond.”

  The two figures bent closer. Cloth rustled, and the lanterns sent light burning from a jewel twice the width of a man’s finger.

  “By God, this is it.” The man in the navy domino leaned closer, his voice hoarse with excitement. “You’ve done it. How did you manage to get them out of France?”

  “That’s my business. Your business is seeing that they get to the right people here in England.”

  The man in the domino stared down at the priceless pink diamond, watching flames shoot from its beautiful facets. “L’Aurore. The one stone that the emperor would never be seen without.” He looked at his companion. “When did you get it?”

  “The details need not concern you,” the other man said curtly. “There was chaos at Waterloo, and it was a time when many things went unnoticed. When it seemed clear that victory was lost, there were those of us who thought to take precautions. And now we will see our emperor restored. There has been an outpouring of sympathy in your country, even it is said from the Prince Regent’s daughter herself.”

  “It is true. I have seen her myself. She is scandalized by the treatment of the man who once held Europe at his mercy. With the right incentives, she can be convinced to help us. And this diamond will help us provide those incentives.” He stroked the diamond gently, almost tenderly. “Where are the rest of the jewels?”

  “In a ship docked in the Thames.”

  “Where in the Thames?”

  “The exact location will remain my secret until you have performed your end of the bargain.” The man in the shadows frowned. “What about Thornwood? He’s said to be watching every port for the jewels.”

  “Thornwood is a fool. If he stands in my way, I will simply kill him as I did the other foolish pair of English in Brussels. I only wish I had managed to get those children at the same time.” The man in the domino turned slightly. Moonlight fell through the swaying oak leaves, and for a moment a jagged scar glinted hard at his mouth. He was a singularly tall man, his body broad and his shoulders heavily muscled. When he spoke it was with a voice utterly devoid of emotion.

  “And what about the children? Did they see you last time?”

  “Impossible. I was fully concealed and they were far too concerned with the discovery of their mother and father, who lay bleeding nearby. They will not recognize me. And by the time Thornwood has traced my tracks, our emperor will be restored to his rightful place on a throne at the head of all Europe.” Smiling, the man reached beside him to raise a goblet filled to its brim with champagne. “A toast to the great man, then. May his victories ring through Europe once more.” The diamond glinted in his other hand.

  “To the emperor,” his companion answered.

  They had just clicked their glasses when there was a wild rustling in the shrubbery near their feet. A furry form shot through the greenery. Tail high, he raced across the table, knocked off the bottle of champagne, then snatched up the priceless pink diamond that the two men had been so keenly admiring.

  And then he disappeared.

  ~ ~ ~

  India was enjoying the lanterns that danced in the treetops when a servant in livery appeared at the entrance to the quiet bower lined by high hedges.

  “For you, my lady,” he said, placing a tray on the little table before her. “Champagne. The man in the uniform sent them.”

  So Ian had not forgotten she was here, after all. India smiled and thanked the man as the champagne bubbled up, its light, sweet fragrance clinging to her nose. It was smuggled, of course. No good wine was obtainable from France any other way these days.

  Low laughter spilled from the neighboring alcoves and as India sipped her champagne she felt an odd sense of restlessness. A soft wind brushed her cheeks and she found herself wishing she had someone to share her enjoyment of the quiet beauty of the evening.

  Then her peace was shattered.

  “I thought I saw you in here. And those damnable brats with you.” Lady Marchmont, resplendent in crimson satin that fit her like a second skin, glared at India from the break between the high hedges. The luscious gown made her skin gleam, enhancing the rouge so carefully applied to her thin lips. The widow smiled coldly. “And don’t think to run away, my dear. If it’s your brother you’re looking for, he is occupied right now. The Prince Regent has him cornered by the orchestra, and I have no doubt he’ll be captive there for hours.”

  India frowned. So that was what had been keeping Ian. She fixed an entirely false smile on her face. “Children? I’m certain I don’t know what you’re talking about. Oh, I believe there were several urchins lolling about by the gate, but—”

  “You know exactly what children I’m talking about,” the widow hissed. “It’s those unruly wards of Thornwood’s. When I saw them sneaking around the garden, I made certain that I followed.”

  India laughed carelessly. “I’m afraid your eyes have tricked you, my lady. I have no children in here.” She waved her hands airily. “As even you can see.”

  The widow looked about suspiciously. After a moment she bent down and peered under the table. When she stood up her face was stiff with anger. “Don’t think you’ll fool me. You and all your family think you’re above the rest of us, but you’re not. One day the ton will tire of your eccentricities, and then you’ll be cut dead. I for one will enjoy seeing it happen. Until them, I intend to hold onto what is mine and what is mine is Devlyn Carlisle.”

  India felt something hot and sharp burn at her throat. “I didn’t realize Devlyn was anyone’s possession. After all he is an adult male of reasonable intelligence.”

  “But he is taken. He has promised to marry me as soon as he has made arrangements for those ill-mannered brats of his.”

  India stood unmoving, her fingers locked on the cold crystal. Was it true? Could Dev possibly have promised marriage to another woman? He was married to her!

  Anger made her hands tremble. “How very interesting. Am I expected to offer congratulations?”

  The widow laughed coldly. “Hardly. But you will cease your interfering. Thornwood hates you after what happened at the balloon ascension. He’s far too proud to stand being made to look a fool. Endangering the children was the final nail in your coffin.” The widow slanted her head, her eyes glittering as she ran her hands over her shimmering gown. “I expect the announcement will appear in the Gazette sometime next week. Until then you will stay well away from Lord Thornwood.”

  “Will I?” India stood unmoving, anger crackling through her. She was not about to be ordered about by this woman with no breeding and even less manners. “We shall s
ee. And now if you’re quite finished, I have just recalled an urgent appointment.”

  The widow’s fingers lashed out, their red-tipped nails digging into India’s hand. “Promise me that you’ll stay away from him. Otherwise it will go very hard with you.”

  India pulled away from the widow’s grip and laughed softly. “You must be very uncertain of your hold over the man.”

  “Not at all. I simply prefer to have a bit of insurance,” the widow said tightly. “If you disobey me I shall see that every person in the ton knows about your disgraceful behavior at the balloon ascension today. And also your disgusting masquerade as a cleaning wench.”

  India laughed coldly. “Do you think I care what the members of the ton have to say about me?”

  “No?” The cool eyes narrowed. “But you do care about those children. The gossip will hurt them along with Thorne. You wouldn’t care for that, would you?”

  India fought back anger as triumph filled the widow’s eyes. “If Devlyn finds out he will curse you for your interference.”

  “But he won’t find out. I’m far too clever for him to discover where the gossip began,” the widow said silkily. “No, they will begin as anonymous rumors. Of course, when I hear anything repeated around me, I will make certain to look utterly scandalized that someone would be so coldhearted as to attack three perfectly charming and innocent children.”

  There was nothing but cruel mockery in her voice now.

  India realized then exactly how devious the woman was and how capable of evil. She was fighting a wave of uneasiness when she heard a noise in the greenery near her feet.

  The countess took a jerky step back. “A rat, no doubt. This wretched place is full of them, along with the dregs of London society. Why Devlyn insisted that we come here is quite beyond me.”

  So Thorne had insisted on partnering Lady Marchmont tonight? India felt a little frisson of fury. Was he blind to the woman’s cruelty?

  Her pondering was cut short by a sudden movement at the top of the hedge. A black shape shot onto a nearby table. India’s table trembled and her champagne glass went flying to the ground. A moment later a dark, furry body leaped through the air and landed hard on Lady Marchmont’s elaborate, feather-encrusted coiffure.

  “Get it off me!” The widow spun wildly, her hands flailing at empty space. “It’s a rat, I’m sure of it. I shall die, I know it. Get the ghastly thing off me!”

  But the new arrival was merely a small brown monkey clad in a neat red jacket heavy with gold braids and a dashing little shako hat. The animal’s long tail was twitching, his eyes were wild, and he looked far more frightened than Lady Marchmont did at that moment.

  “It’s simply a monkey. You needn’t shout so much.”

  But the countess was beyond comforting. She backed wildly into the hedge, desperate to dislodge her unwelcome passenger, who chattered and jumped nimbly to the top of the hedge, from whence he could survey the activity in safety.

  “He’s off now. You are perfectly fine.”

  “He’s ruined my coiffure!” the countess shrieked. “And my beautiful gown is covered with muddy prints. I shall kill the wretched beast.” She spun around and swung her reticule wildly. “Take that, you nasty thing. And that, and that.”

  As Lady Marchmont swung at the air, the monkey hissed protectively. The widow shrank back, then fled from the alcove, her crimson dress fluttering around her. India caught back a laugh, shaking her head at the small creature who had created such chaos.

  But the monkey was no longer on the hedge. He had leaped to the ground and now was comfortably lapping up the pool of champagne left from India’s overturned goblet.

  “So you like champagne, do you? You have expensive tastes, little one.” Bending down, India slowly held out one hand. With such a costume, the animal was probably a tamed performer escaped from somewhere on the grounds. After a moment the monkey shook his tail and walked up her arm. With great dignity he turned once, then settled on her shoulder. Chattering softly, he toyed with the jewels at her neck, then turned away, eager for new discoveries.

  “Savage beast, indeed,” India said, stroking the creature’s head. He was frightened and dreadfully underfed, and she could feel ribs beneath his soft fur. She was wondering what to do with him, when footsteps crunched over gravel on the far side of the hedge.

  Low voices echoed on the still air. “That cursed animal must be somewhere close. I saw him run into this alcove. When I find him I’ll get back what he stole, even if I have to cut out his stomach with this knife to do it.”

  India stared around her in horror. Where could they hide? The footsteps were crunching closer. They would be discovered any second.

  Her eyes narrowed on the back of the bower, where a little door lay half hidden by greenery. She stroked the monkey, cautioning him to silence, then made her way to the door behind the curve of one hedge. “Quiet now,” she said softly. “A few more seconds and we’ll—”

  “You’ll do what?” A man stood at the entrance to the bower, his face covered with a dark mask. A smaller man, his face concealed by a hat, stood close behind him.

  India shoved the monkey up to a ledge made of stone, praying the overhanging greenery would hide him there. Then she raised her head imperiously. “You were speaking to me?”

  “You heard me. Where did you think you were going with my monkey?”

  “I have no monkey here. Now kindly step aside. I expect my gentleman friend will be looking for me any moment now.”

  The tall man in the mask did not move. “Maybe I don’t believe you, my beauty. And maybe I’m wondering what you were at such pains to hide back near that hedge.” He took a step closer. India saw his jaw tense beneath the edge of his mask.

  The swaying lanterns cast a cold gleam of light on the pistol India pulled from her reticule. “I do not care for your attitude, sir. At the count of five I shall fire this thing. You would not care for that, I think.”

  The man cursed and took an unconscious step backward, slamming into his partner. “You don’t know how to shoot that thing, and I’m going nowhere. Not until I’ve found that cursed monkey.”

  India raised the pistol until it was level at the man’s chest. “Let us see exactly how well I can shoot.”

  She was calculating just how far to the right she would have to fire to put a ball harmlessly into the stone wall above the man’s shoulder when she heard a noise behind her. A dark shape flew along the top of the boxwood hedge, flew into the air and landed on her arm.

  The pistol wavered. She struggled wildly to hold her aim, but the monkey’s weight threw her off balance and the pistol flew from her fingers. End over end it spun, clattering off the wrought-iron table and discharging noisily.

  “There’s the damned animal!” The two men bolted forward.

  The monkey was clutching India’s neck so tightly that she could barely see.

  “Now we’ll see how brave you are, my grand miss.” The man in the dark domino circled the table slowly. His eyes glittered behind the slits of his mask.

  Wildly, India shoved a chair forward and sent it crashing into her attacker’s thighs. As he fell backward, cursing, she tugged the quivering shape away from her face and charged toward the narrow gap in the boxwood hedge.

  The two men came crashing after her, but now the overturned table blocked her way.

  What was she to do now?

  “You will be very sorry for this. The man I’ve come here to meet will not care for your behavior, I assure you. He will take out his cavalry saber and gut you from throat to thigh.”

  The two ruffians kept coming. Desperately, India fled around the table, inches before her pursuers, knowing any second they would have her. To right and left dark walks led back into the heart of the pleasure grounds.

  She caught a ragged breath and ran forward, praying that someone would emerge from the lanes nearby.

  A shadow fell against the gravel path. A tall figure appeared, features veiled by a mask o
f black satin.

  India threw herself forward and launched into a throaty greeting. “There you are, my love! I’ve just been telling these horrid men to leave me alone. Now you must drive them off, as I told them you would.”

  She spoke frantically, determined to cut off any sort of protest from the hapless stranger she had cornered all unknowing on the shaded walk. India well knew her masquerade could not end here. Pushing to her toes, she threw her arms around the stranger’s shoulders and pulled his head down to hers, softening her mouth for a convincingly passionate kiss.

  Her heart was pounding. She felt the press of a hard male body and the quick check of the man’s breath. Her fingers tightened on the crisp wool at his shoulders and she had the faint notion that there was something she was forgetting. But there was no time for idle speculation.

  She pulled him closer still and slid her slender body full against his. “Kiss me,” she whispered raggedly. “Please.”

  “Delighted. Except that I rather think you’ve welcomed me enough,” came the dark and slightly mocking reply.

  Abruptly India realized what had been bothering her. It was so very simple now. In fact, it was the very same thing that always seemed to be bothering her.

  Devlyn Carlisle.

  CHAPTER 19

  Thorne’s hands tightened. His silver eyes blazed with a mix of anger and reluctant amusement. Why couldn’t he have had the good fortune to fall in love with a normal, biddable female? Preferably, someone who knew the meaning of the word no.

  But he lost track of his question a heartbeat later. The race of his heart swept away all rational concerns.

  Because the woman in his arms was both innocent and seductress. She was summer’s heat and autumn’s calm. She was stubborn, volatile, rash, and utterly remarkable. Her death-defying antics at the balloon ascension had showed no less.