by Dawn Brower
“I don’t understand,” Rosanna said. “How did you know I was here?”
She hadn’t realized until that moment how disappointed she was to find Lady Marin in the room instead of Dom. Why did she keep making him the hero in all her fantasies? He’d never given her one indication he’d want her in his life. He, in fact, had done darn near the exact opposite. One kiss doesn’t change anything, and she had to start accepting that.
“We don’t have time for a discussion. We need to leave now.” She held up a violet mask that matched her gown perfectly. “Put this on. We’re going to glide elegantly out of the manor and enter my carriage. Once were at a safe place, everything will be explained.”
She didn’t waste any time donning the mask. Lady Marin put hers back on and gestured for her to follow. They exited the room and headed down a long hallway. At the end, Lady Marin glanced behind her and studied her surroundings. Rosanna wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but didn’t question it. She had no clue about sneaking in and out of parties. “This way,” she said.
Rosanna continued to follow her down another hallway. A voice hollered behind them, “What are you doing here?”
Rosanna stopped and held her breath. Were they about to be discovered? She glanced over her shoulder. The comte was heading toward them. Their luck hadn’t held out. He would surely know who she was. The mask wasn’t that good of a disguise. If only Dom had been the one to rescue her. Lady Marin wouldn’t be a match for the comte’s brute strength.
“Ah, Comte de Dreux, how lovely to see you,” Lady Marin lifted her mask off her face and, said in a flirtatious tone. “We were searching for the retiring room, and I fear I’ve only managed to get us both lost.”
“Lady Marin,” the comte said and bowed. “This is most assuredly not the way to the lady’s retiring room. Please, let me escort you to its location.” He held out his arm. “Who is your companion?”
Rosanna had to remind herself to breathe. He didn’t realize who she was after all. The mask and gown were doing the job they’d been designed for. It probably helped that the comte wouldn’t expect she’d find a costume for the masquerade and attempt an escape.
“Oh, that would be lovely,” Lady Marin took the comte’s arm. “My friend has a small tear in her petticoat in desperate need of repair.”
Rosanna noticed she didn’t actually answer the comte’s question. She wasn’t sure how she should have introduced her. As Lady Rosanna, he’d realize she was attempting to do, but who would she be other than herself?
“A tragedy. We can’t have any ladies with tattered gowns at the ball.”
He led them in the opposite direction of where Lady Marin had been going. Rosanna sent up a silent prayer the comte wouldn’t realize who she was and leave them in peace at the lady’s retiring room. Maybe the low lighting would aid them in keeping her identity a secret. He appeared to rather like Lady Marin too—although Rosanna wasn’t sure if it was good or bad for him to be enamored with her. After a brief visit to the room they could try again to leave unnoticed. It was starting to appear as if it would be impossible to leave. She trailed behind them and didn’t say one word for fear the comte would recognize her voice. It took everything inside of her to keep her body’s reaction to him under control.
“It is,” Lady Marin said. “After the seamstress slaved for hours to create such an exquisite gown too—it almost matches her eyes. I’ve always admired the violet-blue color.”
The comte froze outside a room Rosanna assumed was the ladies retiring room. What had Lady Marin said to cause him to react so? “Violet-blue, you said?” He spun on his heels to study her. Rosanna took an involuntary step back. She repressed a groan as he stepped closer. Drat. Why did Lady Marin mention the color of her eyes? “Lady Rosanna.” He stepped forward and grabbed her arm. “I don’t know how you managed any of this, but it’s fortunate I’ve discovered you before you’ve gotten any farther.” He opened the nearest door and pushed her inside.
“Don’t hurt me,” she begged.
They’d been so close to escaping... She didn’t understand why Callista had spoiled it. She’d been doing so well. It had to have been a slip of the tongue.
“Oh, Ulrich.” Callista stepped inside the room and shook her head. “You’re a fool.”
He spun around and faced Lady Marin. “Was this your doing? Were you helping her escape?”
Her lips tilted upward. “I can’t very well let you hold her hostage. Her brother had been dear to me at one time.”
Rosanna studied Lady Marin and noticed, while her lips resembled a smile, her eyes held a tinge of sadness. She really had loved Edward, and maybe that was what motivated her to help her escape, but Rosanna had her doubts. There was more going on than she realized.
“What is this all about?” Rosanna asked. It was time someone gave her answers. She was tired of being in the middle of a bit of intrigue and not understanding why. “Callista, please tell me what is going on.”
“It’s simple enough,” Callista began. “I’d hoped to see you safely out of the house before having this confrontation, but it appears that’s not to be. I’ll have to do things the hard way.”
Rosanna didn’t like how that sounded. Callista had a strange look on her face. Her eyebrows scrunched together as she continued to move forward. “I’m not sure you should do anything drastic,” she tried to reason with Lady Marin. “The comte won’t hurt us.” At least she didn’t think so...”
“Oh, he already has,” Callista said maniacally. “In so many ways. He took the love of my life from me. For what? To keep that man in rule for a few weeks longer? Was it worth it, Ulrich?”
“I did not kill Edward,” the comte said emphatically. “I wouldn’t dirty my hands with anyone’s death.”
Rosanna glanced at the comte and then back at Callista. Lady Marin believed the comte had killed her brother? But he’d died in a carriage accident. Why would she think someone murdered him? What had she missed? Then she remembered a conversation between Dom and Edward. Had Edward been a part of something that could have led to his death? Dom had warned him he was going down a path that could become his reckoning.
“You’re right, of course.” Lady Marin laughed. “You wouldn’t do something so crude as murder yourself. Why would you? That’s what you pay people for. Oh, don’t worry I know who is to blame for Edward’s accident. You’re at the top of the list. The other man will see his end at the end of a rope.” Callista pulled out a pistol from a hidden pocket and pointed it at the comte. “Do you have any last words? A confession? No? I didn’t really expect you to tell me what I wanted to hear. It doesn’t matter after all. Edward is gone, and soon you will be too.”
“Callista,” Rosanna said. “You don’t want to kill him. We can leave and forget about this.”
She didn’t want to see a man die before her eyes. Even if he did have something to do with Edward’s death—it would be something she’d never be able to forget. There had already been so much she’d had to endure and didn’t want to add to it.
“I’m afraid I must, dear,” she said. “I apologize. I never meant for you to see this, but I’ve waited too long to have my vengeance. The comte won’t live to see another day.” Callista continued to move forward. “Now, Ulrich, it’s time for you to die.”
The comte didn’t appear as if he was ready to do anything. He stood still and studied Callista for a moment. “You’re not going to shoot me. At least not until you know everything. I may have given the order, and you may think you know who actually arranged for Edward’s accident, but you don’t know why we took Lady Rosanna.”
That was something she wanted to know. Why would they have taken her? She didn’t know anything about Edward’s death—or at least she hadn’t until that moment. When Bivens had taken her, she’d been shocked. He’d worked for her family for years...
“Oh, I know the role of the stable master. He’s the one who rigged Edward’s carriage. He’s the culprit who made it all p
ossible for that carriage accident and the wheel to break at the most inopportune time. As I said, he’ll get what is coming to him soon. As far as why you abducted Lady Rosanna...” She shrugged. “It matters not. As that plan has been thwarted and she will soon return home.”
He laughed. “Unlikely. I know the marquess is in Calais and searching for her. He’s the one we’re after, and if he comes for her they both will die.”
Rosanna’s heart froze in her chest. Dom was looking for her? She’d not been hoping in vain he’d come? Of course he would. He was honorable, after all. He’d have done whatever was necessary to save her.
“You are the biggest fool I’ve ever met.” Callista’s lip twitched. “As if Lord Seabrook would ever allow you to get near enough to do him harm. He’s not the crown’s best spy without reason.”
Dom was a spy... Suddenly everything made perfect sense. Why he’d been rude and pushed her away. Why she continued to be drawn to him, and his kiss... He wasn’t unaffected by her. No, the fool thought he was shielding her from harm. When she saw him again, she’d tell him exactly what she thought of his manner of protection.
“Hence the reason for Lady Rosanna being here. He won’t think of himself first. He loves her, and he’ll do anything to save her. It’s time to bring the famous spy to his knees, and the lady is going to be the instrument of his downfall.” He grinned evilly. “He deserves to pay for what he’s done to my country. If not for him, our leader wouldn’t be imprisoned.”
“It won’t come to that.” Callista moved forward, keeping the pistol trained on the comte. “And even if it does, you won’t be here to see it.”
The comte stepped back and onto and open balcony, out of the range of Callista’s pistol. She went out after him. A set of storm clouds were forming overhead. Thunder cracked down on the Earth, followed by lightning filling the night sky. She could see Lady Marin and Comte de Dreux in the outline. The wind whistled through the air as the storm surged forward.
Rosanna watched in horror as the comte grabbed her wrist and attempted to wrench the pistol from her hand. They fought for what seemed like forever, but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. An explosion rung through Rosanna’s ears. She couldn’t tell if it was the thunder from the storm or if it was from the pistol going off. It didn’t matter. As the wind whipped through the room and sent the curtains steaming backward, Lady Marin fell over the balcony. The comte clutched his chest and heaved back, tumbling after her. Rosanna wailed with dismay as she helplessly watched her fall over. It was horrifying and heartbreaking at the same time.
Rosanna fell to the floor and rocked back and forth—her throat raw from the screams wrenched from within her. What should she do?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dominic rushed down the hall, searching for Callista and Rosanna. They’d not made it to their designated meeting point, and that led him to believe something or someone had waylaid them. Either way, he had to do something to extricate them both from whatever situation they’d found themselves in—that is, if he could locate them in the mausoleum the Comte de Dreux called home.
He’d searched the wing they were supposed to go through without much success. He was heading toward the north wing when he heard a crack of thunder, mixed with what he believed to be a pistol going off, and rushed in the direction of the alarming sounds coming from that part of the manor.
He paused at an open doorway and eased his way toward it. Dom wasn’t entirely sure what he’d find inside, and only a fool would rush in. As much as he wanted to protect Rosanna, he had to be smart about how he handled the situation. He slowly turned toward the threshold and paused at the sight of Rosanna sitting on the floor. Tears streamed down her beautiful face, a purple mask discarded on the floor in front of her, and her lilac dress was bunched up around her.
“Rose?” He inched his way inside. No one else appeared to be around them. Who had shot the pistol? Where was Callista? She was supposed to be with Rosanna. Had something happened to her? Did the countess need aid? “Rose,” he said again when she didn’t answer him. He moved toward her and placed a hand on her shaking form. She glanced up at him and a new stream of tears fell. “Oh, darling, what happened?” He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, attempting to comfort her. He’d never seen her cry, not in all the years he’d known her. Not even when she’d attended her parent’s funerals or Edward’s. What must’ve happened to unleash such misery? “Shh,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s going to be all right, but we need to leave.”
He didn’t know how long they had before someone else came to see what all the commotion had been about. They couldn’t dawdle or they might end up facing something he wasn’t prepared to handle. He couldn’t worry about Callista—the countess was more than able to handle herself. She’d been a player in the spy game too long not to know what to do. Rosanna’s safety came first. After she was safe, he could concern himself with the ramifications of whatever happened.
“No,” Rosanna said, her voice wobbly from crying. “I have to know.”
“Know what?” He was confused, and couldn’t help her if he didn’t understand what she was talking about. “Honey, we need to go. I’m not sure when the guards will come to investigate, but I’m positive it won’t take long.” He leaned down to help her to her feet and tried to guide her toward the doorway.
She wrenched her arms from his grasp and ran toward the balcony. She leaned over the railing and scanned the area. A new set of sobs escaped her mouth. “No. Where are they?”
Had someone fallen over the balcony? He feared he knew the answer to that question, but didn’t want to put a voice to it. Surely she hadn’t... “Who are you trying to find?”
“Callista...” She choked back a sob. “And Comte de Dreux. They both fell over. I don’t see either one of them. Wouldn’t they still be down there? It’s not a short fall, and it would have caused some sort of injury, but neither one of them are down there. Did no one else hear the commotion? What kind of people are these that they continue to laugh and have fun when someone is being hurt?”
That explained why Callista wasn’t in the room. Had she fought with the comte? She believed him to be solely responsible for Edward’s death. She’d have not shirked at facing him if he confronted her. The countess would not have sought him out with Rosanna not safely out of harm’s way, but if the opportunity presented itself, and she’d not been given another choice—yes, the countess would have done whatever she could to bring the comte down.
“Rose,” he said, urgency filling his voice. “There’s nothing we can do for Callista now. We have to leave.”
“No,” she said defiantly. “We can’t leave yet. Callista might be gone, but we could go help Eve.”
Dom had no idea who Eve was, and he couldn’t allow himself to care. Rosanna was his first concern. “We don’t have time to help anyone else. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he coaxed. “Helping this other woman isn’t possible. Maybe we can come back another time and rescue her. If we don’t leave now we might not be able to.”
She turned toward him. Her violet-blue eyes filled with immeasurable sadness. After a moment, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered open and she nodded her head. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.” Rosanna told him. “Eve needs help, and you’re going to ensure she gets it. Now, lead the way.”
Dom reached for her hand and held it in his. Once she was safe he’d ask about Eve and everything that happened. He guided her out of the door and away from the room. When the time came, he’d have to report the details to Branterberry. Callista was one of his best operatives, and he’d need to know what became of her. Dom hoped, by some miracle, she’d somehow survived. He wasn’t a betting person though and feared the worst.
With careful precision, and Rosanna firmly at his side, Dom managed to weave them through the manor and outside to his awaiting carriage. He helped her inside, and joined her. Once he was assured she was settled, he rapped on the side to aler
t the driver to take them to the safe house. They couldn’t depart Calais until dawn, which was still hours away. He’d secured them passage on a ship scheduled to cross the channel and dock in Southampton near his estate. It had been the best he could do on short notice. They could take refuge at Seabrook and then make their way back to Weston Manor.
“Where are we going?” Rosanna asked.
“Someplace safe,” he replied. He lifted the curtain on the side of the carriage and peered outside. Everything was going as planned—well, almost. Callista wasn’t supposed to fall off a balcony and take the comte with her. That was most assuredly something they’d not counted on. At least the path they’d designed for the carriage to take was unencumbered. Still, he’d not breathe easily until they made it to his safe house. There, he could ensure Rosanna was taken care of. No one was aware of its existence. So he didn’t anticipate anyone searching for her there.
He prayed it stayed that way...
***
Rosanna sat in silence and watched Dominic out of the corner of her eye. He’d not said much, and for once that was perfectly fine with her. She didn’t want to discuss the horror she’d witnessed at Comte de Dreux’s estate. If she could forget it she would. If Dom hadn’t appeared when he had—she’d no idea what she would have done. The terror that filled her as she watched them both fall... She had a deep desire to start rocking back and forth once again, but she didn’t need to. The carriage did a good job of keeping that particular motion redundant. When she sat on the floor and done so earlier it had calmed her. If only a rocking carriage offered a similar comfort. Now, nothing appeared to ease her anxiety. The motion wouldn’t do more than agitate her, and Dom as well.
“How did you know where to find me?”
She learned he was one of the crown’s best spies earlier. That was why the comte said he’d taken her. She didn’t understand how one related to the other, but maybe Dom would. Perhaps the comte was aware of how close Dom was to her family. He’d risk his life to save her because of that, and not much else. The comte was lying about Dom loving her. He’d never shown her that side of him and didn’t believe its veracity for one second. She wished he loved her, and always would, but that was only the fantasies of a young girl. Something she’d forced herself to give up on years ago. Now she was a mature woman who realized there were more important things in life. She’d never foolishly give her heart to another man. A small part of her realized she couldn’t because she’d already unwisely given it to Dom. He didn’t want it, or her, so she’d hardened what was left of it to survive.