A Christmas Code (The Code Breakers Series Book 2)
Page 8
“How many are there?” Ash asked.
“Only two. One is definitely a man. Those prints are much larger than the other set. I’d say a woman and a man.” Foster would have no trouble tracking Cook and her conspirators. “Also, the tracks are relatively new.”
“They might be planning to meet their associates.” Ash looked at the grim, determined faces of his hand-selected soldiers. “Are you ready to find our French enemies?”
The men nodded their heads.
Foster, lantern in hand, went ahead of everyone. Ash, following Foster, led the armed men in single file into the heavy thicket of woods behind Edworth manor. Brinsley brought up the rear. “Douse the lanterns,” Ash commanded.
They walked in silence, listening to the stirrings of the wind and a night owl complain. The snow buffered the sounds, turning the woods and gardens into a hushed, silvery world.
Foster continued to follow the tracks until he came to a small clearing. He signaled Ash to come forward. “They rested here.”
Ash looked at the snow and the jumble of random footprints. He trusted Foster’s tracking experience. “Did more join them?”
“No, these are the same two sets of prints. “
Ash nodded. He signaled to his men to keep moving.
They walked deeper into the woods. The cold penetrated their feet and their exposed hands, gripping their guns. Alert to the danger of a possible trap, they ignored the cold as the least of their worries.
Ash heard a muffled sound, approaching footsteps. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He raised one hand to signal the men to stop and remain silent. Foster pointed toward a clearing twenty yards ahead. Ash turned toward the line of men behind him and gestured for them to encircle the enemies.
He pointed to Brinsley to follow him and to Foster to fall back. He didn’t want Foster in the line of fire.
With his gun pointed, he walked toward the sound. Brinsley followed behind. As he got closer to the clearing, he spotted the dark clothing between the trees. The snow was working to his advantage, providing a stark contrast.
In a hushed voice, he whispered to Brinsley, “Cover me. I want to make them believe I’m alone—draw out the others if they’re hiding.”
Brinsley gave a thumbs-up.
Discarding stealth, Ash allowed the heavy sound of his boots dragging through the snow and the sound of branches breaking under his feet. Nonchalantly, Ash walked into the opening, where Brunton, the butler, pushed a middle-aged woman behind him. “She had nothing to do with it. It was me.” He used his butler’s authoritarian voice.
The tension coiled in Ash’s body relaxed—the butler wasn’t armed. Ash stepped closer to get a look at the woman, who was blocked from his view.
“No, Brunton.” The woman shoved Brunton and stepped into the clearing. She raised a pistol that appeared too old to fire and aimed the damn gun right at Ash. Aimed at his heart, she pulled the hammer back. “One dead Englishman is better than none. For our French son.”
“No, Ismay. No!” Brunton grabbed her arm, causing her shot to go wild.
Ash dropped to the ground as a pistol shot shattered the silence. Brinsley had fired from behind a tree at close range. Unlike the woman’s gunshot, Brinsley’s shot struck her in the center of her chest. She tipped back, dropping stiffly to the ground, her blood soaking into the white snow.
Brunton collapsed next to the woman. “No, God, no. I can’t lose you.”
She gasped, “Andre…”
“No, no. It wasn’t supposed to end this way.” Brunton held the limp body in his arms, sobbing. “I’ve lost them both…for nothing.”
Ash bent down and felt for a pulse on the fallen woman. He lifted the broken butler by the arm. “Come on. Let’s get you both out of the cold. My men will carry your wife. She is still breathing.”
Brunton took his coat off and wrapped it around his wife.
Brinsley lifted her easily into his arms, his face twisted in regret. “The doctor will look after her wound.”
Watching Brunton’s anguish for the woman he loved, Ash was consumed with a sudden need to get back to Gwyneth. He couldn’t bear to waste another minute without her—he wanted to hold her tight against him forever.
Epilogue
Ash and Gwyneth waited in line to be presented to the Prince of Wales at the Christmas Eve ball. The snow had melted enough to allow the prince to travel to Edworth Estate. In the last twenty-four hours, Gwyneth had been in her room on forced bed rest. With no private moment with Ash, there was no opportunity to hear any details of the capture.
Gwyneth stood close to Ash, trying to keep her curiosity and voice subdued. “My instincts were right about Brunton, but why did he and Cook want to kill the prince?”
Ash bent down and spoke in a low voice. “Their son had been executed by Napoleon as a conspirator in the Christmas Assassination plot.”
Ash’s muscular body bent close, gave Gwyneth a sense of privacy in the midst of the holiday revelers. “Christmas Plot?”
“French monarchists attempted to blow up Napoleon on his way to the opera. On Christmas day, they detonated a bomb, killing innocent bystanders, but sparing Napoleon.”
She grasped his arm. “But why kill our prince?”
“Napoleon knew that the monarchists were behind the plot, but he used the bombing to justify purging his enemies. After he declared himself Emperor, he didn’t want any memory of his past association with the Jacobins. He exiled hundreds and executed innocent men, all under the guise of responding to the threat against his life.”
Gwyneth turned toward Lord Smithton and his wife who stood behind them and gave her most charming smile. She nodded towards the lady and then leaned against Ash as if sharing the latest dit in society. “I’m assuming their son was one of the executed?”
“Their son was a political agitator whose only crime was that he distributed pamphlets protesting Napoleon as Emperor.” Ash shook his head in disgust over the injustice. “His mother, overcome with grief, was convinced the British were behind the plot. She wanted revenge on King George by killing his son on Christmas day.” Ash chose not to share the fact that the British had funneled the financial support to the French monarchists. He didn’t want Gwyneth to be any more upset than she already was.
“What a tragedy.” Gwyneth understood what happened to families when a child died. Her parents were never the same after her older brother died. None of them were. Gwyneth tightened her hold on Ash’s arm. “The poor woman, I wish there was something we could do to help her.”
Ash gently caressed Gwyneth’s resting hand. “I’m sending them back to France, never to return to England. I’ve seen too much suffering of innocent people caught in Napoleon’s machinations. Brunton will care for his wife in his childhood village.”
“Oh, Ash. What an amazing Christmas gesture of peace.” She wanted to kiss Ash right in front of the prince, and would’ve if Lord Edworth’s hadn’t finished his long exchange.
They stepped up to the enormous chair bearing the hefty Prince of Wales. “Your highness, may I present Lady Gwyneth Beaumont?” Ash spoke in a formal, proper voice that she had never heard before.
Gwyneth had been presented to Queen Charlotte, but she had never met the prince. She had heard all the rumors about Prinny and his excesses. By the harsh lines around his eyes and petulant mouth, the gossips had not exaggerated.
“Rathbourne’s sister?” She heard the prince query one of his attendants.
Gwyneth curtsied deeply in court fashion. She raised her head slightly to smile at the prince.
Prinny’s eyes drifted downward, settling upon her décolletage. She was dressed in her pièce de résistance—the red velvet Christmas dress, designed specifically for the seduction of Ash.
Not surprised by the Prince’s usual lecherous behavior, Gwyneth was tempted to roll her eyes at Ash until she saw that Ash’s soft eyes had turned dark and flinty and that his body had gone all rigid. Ash looked ready to plant a
facer on the prince whose life he had just saved. Not that anyone would acknowledge or mention the assassination attempt.
Gwyneth hastily arose as Ash drew her to his side. “May you be the first to know, Your Majesty, that Lady Gwyneth has made me the happiest of men and has accepted my offer of marriage.”
With his sagging jowls and his little beady eyes, the prince had the appearance of an enormous sea creature. He continued to stare at Gwyneth in the most intrusive manner, as if she were a treat he wished to devour. She could feel Ash’s body tighten, ready to spring into action. She couldn’t allow Ash to do anything rash, but she was unsure how to prevent such a disaster.
The prince guffawed. His rotund belly shook with laughter. “Nice work, Ashworth. The lady appears to be more than satisfying for a man of your position.” The prince patted his sweaty face with a handkerchief as he continued to chuckle.
Ash’s entire body remained taut, his hands fisted behind him. He bowed curtly and then led her toward the open doors.
Ash kept a possessive hand on her back. She could feel his warmth close to her exposed skin.
“Lord, spare me,” Ash growled. “Of all the insufferable.”
The reality of royalty was tiresome for an honorable man like Ash who had sacrificed years in service, only to be confronted with the reckless extravagance of the prince.
Ash took her arm as they walked through the crowded ballroom. The gaiety of the holiday, the scent of the pine boughs, and beeswax candles, were in stark contrast to the tensions of the last two days when they had been assaulted and poisoned.
Not one to dwell on the negative. It was Christmas Eve and she was going to rejoice in the hope and joy of the season. She resolved not to allow the last days to spoil their first holiday together.
“It’s almost Christmas. We must look for the Star of Bethlehem. Let’s go outside through the library doors where it is private, but we must get back in time for the carolers. I love the singing.” Hopeful for the future and heartened by Ash’s compassionate response to the butler and cook, she started to sing. “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.”
She stopped suddenly as they turned the corner. “It’s Amelia…and Lord Brinsley.”
Ahead, under the mistletoe, in a fervid embrace, stood Amelia and Lord Brinsley.
“They seem to be working out their differences.” Ash chuckled.
“But Amelia loathes him.”
“She has a funny way of showing her dislike.”
Lord Brinsley’s hands were wandering in places no lady should allow in public. Gwyneth was having difficulty not watching.
“Let’s go to the library, shall we?” Ash’s tone was wolfish and promising.
Anticipation danced along her skin as Ash took her down another corridor to the library.
Alone in the empty library, Ash’s mouth explored, leaving a tingling trail from her throat to her collarbone, to the sensitive hollow of her shoulder. “I’m not going to want to go outside now that I’ve got you alone in the library. Especially in that dress. It was designed to drive men crazy. I thought Prinny was going to go into heart spasms.”
The path of Ash’s hot mouth on her throat, arms and chest caught her body on fire. The memory of Ash’s passionate reaction to her night rail the previous night made her shaky behind her knees. Suddenly she could barely stand with the overwhelming sensations Ash wrought from her body. She melted against him. “I chose this dress to drive only one man crazy—you, Ash, only you.”
Sharing breath with him, she was drowning with the intimacy. “Oh, Ash.”
“I haven’t asked you formally, but, now that I told Prinny, you have no choice. You’ll have to marry me.”
The sexy command made her gasp—which was just the opportunity he wanted. His mouth nudged hers open more as he brought her into the solid cradle of his hard body. He sank his tongue, tasting her more deeply.
After long moments of pleasurable activity, Ash held her away from his body. “We must stop. Anyone can find us. You’re going to be my wife. Besides, Cord actually might kill me.”
The mention of her brother startled Gwyneth from her sensual haze.
Ash walked toward the French doors. “Come on, Gwyneth. I’m hanging on the edge here. Let’s go outside to cool down and look at the stars.”
“Oh, yes. It’s Christmas Eve and like the three wise men, we have to look for the Star of Bethlehem.”
Ash wrapped his arm around her as they stood together staring into the dark, clear night. Overhead was a bright shining star.
“There it is! The Star of Bethlehem. The promise of love and peace to come.”
Ash looked down on her, his eyes filled with warmth and tenderness. “You’re my Star of Bethlehem, Gwyneth. You’re my promise. And I promise to love you always.”
“As I do you, Ash. You’re my star of hope and love.”
“Your light outshines any star, my love.”
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A Code of Love
A Code of the Heart
About the Author
Descended from a long line of storytellers, Jacki spins adventures filled with mystery, healing and romance.
Jacki’s love affair with the arts began at a young age and inspired her to train as a jazz singer and dancer. She has performed many acting roles with Seattle Opera Company and Pacific Northwest Ballet.
Her travels to London and Paris ignited a deep-seated passion to write the romantic, regency The Code Breaker Series. Jacki is certain she spent at least one lifetime dancing in the Moulin Rouge.
Jacki has set her Grayce Walters Mystery Series in Seattle, her long-time home. The city’s unique and colorful locations are a backdrop for her romantic mystery.
Although writing now fills much of her day, she continues to volunteer for Seattle’s Ballet and Opera Companies and leads children’s tours of Pike Street Market. Her volunteer work with Seattle’s homeless shelters influenced one of her main characters in An Inner Fire and Women Under Fire.
Jacki’s two Golden Labs, Gus and Talley, were her constant companions. Their years of devotion and intuition inspired her to write both dogs as heroes in each series.
A geek at heart, Jacki loves superhero movies—a hero’s battle against insurmountable odds. But her heroines don’t have to wear a unitard to fight injustice and battle for the underdog.
Look for more heart-pounding adventure, intrigue, and romance in A Code of the Heart—A Regency Novella, next in the Code Breaker Series, to be released on Valentine’s Day, 2015.
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