He was busily tying the sash of his dressing gown as he walked into the ground floor sitting room of the elegant mansion in Duke Street. Will noted the tussled hair and lack of footwear on his cousin's feet and frowned. He had dragged the earl from his bed.
Will looked at his pocket watch. It was almost midnight. A time when once he and Bartholomew Shale would have been in full swing stalking the streets of Paris conducting covert operations.
“Gotten old have we Bat?” he replied. Only the earl's closest friends were accorded the privilege of calling him by his old school moniker.
Bat raised an eyebrow. He knew Will well enough to immediately sense something was troubling him. Something of great importance.
“And a good evening to you too dear cousin. Can I take it from your demeanor and unshaven appearance that you did not have a pleasant journey home from the continent?”
Will snorted. It had been a long and trying day.
“Let me just say it was an interesting one.”
“Then you had better tell me all about it. Have a seat,” replied Bat.
Lord Shale and his wife Rosemary, had been undercover British agents working alongside Will in Paris. He and Rosemary were the only two people in Will's life who had known Yvette. Bat had been with Yvette the night she died, but a skillful poisoner had rendered him unable to save her. Lord Shale had barely escaped with his life.
Will then proceeded to tell Bat all but the very intimate moments of his time with Hattie. It was a rare thing for them to keep anything from one another. When Will was finished he sat and waited.
“And she gave you the slip. You have become soft my lad,” chuckled Bat.
Will looked down at his generously filled glass of brandy. He pondered the statement for a moment before meeting Bat's enquiring gaze.
“The edges may have dulled a little I will grant you that, but this mission is far from over. Which is why your home was the first place I chose to go to once I knew Hattie was not dead. If anyone can help me get my head straight about this mess it is you,” replied Will.
He set his glass down on the table, shaking his head as he did.
“I still cannot believe I let my judgement be clouded in such an appalling way.”
He was disgusted with himself. The thought had been rolling around in his head all day, but to give it voice stung his stubborn pride.
Bat dismissed Will’s words with a wave.
“And you are the first man in the world to allow a woman to get in the way of clear thoughts?”
His gaze moved to the doorway, in which a tall, raven haired beauty stood. Will followed his cousin's gaze.
“Rosemary.” Will got to his feet.
Lady Shale gave him a warm kiss on the cheek before allowing Will to embrace her.
“Will, I’m so glad you are here. Finally, you are home. Adelaide sent word this afternoon that your luggage had arrived, but you had not. From the tone of your mother’s note you had better have a very good reason for not having made it home tonight,” she exclaimed.
Will grimaced.
“It wasn't the simple homecoming that I had expected, let me put it that way. I just need a night back in London to get my thoughts together before I face the family,” he replied.
The clock on the mantelpiece chimed one. The cream silk dressing gown Lady Shale wore providing an added reminder that he was intruding on the earl and countess's slumber.
“My apologies, I lost track of time. I am keeping you both from your bed.”
Bat rose from his chair and came to Rosemary’s side. Will saw the sparkle in his cousin's eyes as he looked at his wife. A spark of envy lit in Will's mind as he watched Bat effortlessly slip an arm around her waist.
“You know anytime you need us, we are here. Always.”
Beside him, Rosemary stifled a yawn.
“Come upstairs. We had the servants make up a room for you as soon as your mother’s missive arrived. In the morning we can discuss things further over a decent English breakfast and come up with a plan to run your Miss Wright to ground. Sleep is what I daresay you need right now,” said Bat.
“An excellent suggestion. Of course, by then my dear husband you will have debriefed me on all the pertinent details,” added Rosemary.
She took hold of her husband’s hand and a smile appeared on her face. Her husband would be shortly finding himself under interrogation.
“Good night Will, welcome home to England.”
Upstairs in his room, William dropped down on the end of the bed and sat staring at the fire which had been lit for some time, judging by the warmth in the room. It was nice to have others thinking of his welfare once more.
He hadn’t realized how big the hole of loneliness had been in his life. With Hattie’s disappearance he was once more staring into the void.
He was tempted to take off his coat and climb in under the blankets, but he was still too restless. The day had forced him to face some uncomfortable truths.
He pulled the heavy counterpane off the bed and draped it around himself before taking a seat by the fire.
He closed his eyes, intent on calming his mind. Sleep however quickly took him and he slipped into a deep dream.
For so long the woman in his dreams had been Yvette, but another had recently taken her place.
Hattie.
He saw her standing looking out to sea from Europa Point. He smiled in his sleep remembering the way the sun picked out the gold highlights in her hair. Hair which kissed her shoulders and curled softly at the ends.
She turned and smiled at him, happiness evident in her face. He was her hero. He had saved her from a terrible fate and given her a new life. She held out a hand and his body felt light as he took it. Drawing her close to him he heard her whisper.
“I love you.”
Will woke with a start.
He was still seated by the fireside, but the logs had burned down, leaving a golden glow of embers.
His mouth was dry and an erection strained at the buttons on his trousers. His body hungrily demanded the sexual release it had so recently rediscovered.
“You are under my skin,” he whispered.
Sex was only part of the reason he wanted Hattie back in his bed. He wanted to know everything of her, possess both her mind and body. He had known her body, but she had held fast to what lay within her soul. When Hattie finally yielded up the truth she would be willing to give him her all.
“You my little minx are going to tell me everything.”
And that included uttering the words that would make her his forever.
“Rest well my love, wherever you are tonight. Tomorrow you become my quarry.”
Chapter Nineteen
“William!”
Will put down his satchel. The footman who had opened the door to the Saunders’ family home in Dover Street moved swiftly to one side as Caroline Saunders launched herself at her older brother. She flung her arms around Will and held onto him with grim determination. He groaned as he felt the air in his lungs being squeezed out of his body.
“I missed you. Where have you been? Your trunk arrived yesterday. Mama is so very cross with you. Why didn’t you come home?”
Caroline’s words tumbled out, she didn’t bother pausing to draw breath. Will's home coming was never going to be a quiet one. His first reception home earlier in the year had been marked with tears and long emotional hugs on all sides. When he had returned home in May it had been nearly five years since he had left England. Even his brother Francis, a young man renowned for his lack of emotional display had been in his own words a blubbering mess.
Now he was home for good.
As his father gently prised Caroline off her brother, he and Will shared a grin. Will offered his father his hand, which was promptly seized as Charles Saunders pulled his first born into his own welcoming embrace.
“So good to have you safely home mon fils, so good,” he said.
“We were expecting you home yesterday. M
ama sent notes to half of London demanding to know where you were,” Caroline noted.
Will shrugged his shoulders, there was no point in going into details.
“The ship was delayed in the English Channel due to bad weather. I had a couple of errands to run after we docked, and by the time I had finished them, it was late. I stayed at Bat and Rosemary's house last night,” he replied.
He felt obliged to explain the circumstances of his journey back to England fully to his father, but now was not the time. Now was the time for allowing his parents and siblings to rejoice in his return. To embrace the beginning of his new life back in London.
“Is mama out? The house is far too quiet,” he asked.
He had not heard the excited squeal of his mother, which knowing Adelaide Saunders was most uncustomary.
Caroline rolled her eyes, at which her father gave her a disapproving glare.
“They are at Rosemount House paying a house call to Countess Rosemount,” his father replied.
“Dearest sister, Eve has gone and got it into her muddled head that she wants to marry Freddie Rosemount. Daft idea if you ask me,” said Caroline.
Eve was in love? Will paused, taken aback by this unexpected revelation. Nowhere in Eve's regular correspondence had she confided in him news of her heart. It would be disappointing to have his sister married and move out of the family home just as he returned. He had assumed that for at least the next few years he would be able to see the whole of his family whenever he visited home. Eve’s pending engagement was a sharp reminder that during the years of his absence, his brother and sisters had grown to adulthood.
Eve, always thinking of her brother had obviously decided not to tell him of her future happiness. Not when she thought him still to be carrying a broken heart over the loss of Yvette.
A matter of months ago she would have been close to the truth, but things had changed in his life. A late summer visit in Paris from their cousin Lady Lucy Radley and her new husband Avery Fox had opened his eyes to the possibility of love once more.
The days spent with Hattie had made that notion now seem real. The ghost of Yvette was letting him go. Pushing him toward the happiness he knew his late wife would so earnestly wish for him.
“Well I hope he is deserving of her and makes her happy,” replied Will.
Caroline raised an eyebrow. She had been all of fifteen when Will had left. In the intervening years Caroline had blossomed into a stunning beauty. Her maturity at times however lagged behind her looks. With luck he would still have time to see her grow into a sensible young woman before she too fell into the arms of love.
“I am not moving out of your old room. It's mine!” a voice bellowed.
Will looked up to see his younger brother, Francis waving at him from the top of the stairs. He hurried down to greet Will. His greeting consisted of several friendly whacks on Will's back and a bone crushing handshake.
Francis had been five feet eight inches tall to Will’s six foot when Will first departed. Now at well over six feet four inches tall, Francis towered over his older brother.
Will placed a hand on the back of his neck, feigning discomfort. “Is it snowing up there?” he joked.
Francis, who possessed a shock of white hair, laughed.
“Very funny. I cannot help it if you are a short chap. You would have fitted in perfectly with all those little Frenchmen. Any wonder they never discovered who you really were.”
Will chuckled. Whomever had started the rumor about Frenchmen being short in stature had never lived in Paris.
“Come now, let your brother get settled in and then you can tease him all you wish. He is not going anywhere,” said Charles.
Will noted the happy pitch in his father's voice. It was good to be home and among family once more.
In his room, just down the hall from his old room, Will emptied the contents of his satchel and placed them on his dresser. As he closed the dresser drawer, his gaze settled on the wall.
The same familiar wallpaper covered the walls of the room. Red, white, and blue stripes covered most of the pattern. In between there was a stripe with a red rose and gold fleur de lis intertwined. It signified the union of the Scottish house of Strathmore and that of the French Alexandre.
Charles Alexandre, had changed his family name to Saunders not long after the bloodletting of the terror had started in his home region of the Vendee. His father, Francois, had been an early and vigorous supporter of the French Revolution. Then seeing the madness which eventually gripped his beloved nation at the hands of Robespierre during his murderous rule Francois returned to being a royalist. Following the Battle of Savenay which saw the uprising in the Vendee brutally crushed, Francois Alexandre had met his end under the blade of the guillotine.
After the violent death of his father, Charles turned his back on his country and became as English as he could. It was the English born and raised Will who eventually succumbed to the pull of Mother France and vowed to help rid her of yet another tyrant in Napoleon.
Outside in the street Will could hear the cry of the street sellers. It was odd to hear the sound of an east London accent outside the window. He was home, but forever a part of his heart would remain in Paris.
Earlier that morning he taken a stroll down Duke Street, and stopped at the nearest pie shop. The shopkeeper had given him a disapproving look when Will replied to his morning greeting with a polite bonjour. So, ingrained in the ways of French life, Will still often found himself thinking in his father’s mother tongue.
Crossing to the window he looked down into the street. Wide and with well-maintained stone flagging, Dover Street was most unlike the tiny, narrow Parisian streets he knew so well. The houses had been so tightly packed together, a sure-footed man, or woman in Yvette’s case, could pass undetected over the roof tops. Many a time they had done just that to avoid the regular street patrols of the French army.
He was eager to see the rest of his family, sure in the knowledge that a few days at home would help to settle his mind. Bat had assured him that during that time he would make subtle enquiries as to the whereabouts of Hattie Wright.
“She let enough provable facts slip into her story, that we just need to follow the trail of breadcrumbs to find her,” his cousin reassured him.
Chapter Twenty
Will spent the rest of the day and the next settling into the family home. True to his word Francis steadfastly refused to relinquish what had once been Will’s room.
“I can make him move rooms if you wish,” offered Adelaide.
“He is fine where he is; possession is nine tenths of the law. It wouldn’t be fair for me to come back after all this time and expect him to give up the room. Besides, I have lived as a lodger in a tiny garret, I wouldn’t know what to do with such a large space,” replied Will.
He gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. Adelaide reached out and took hold of his hand. She stood silently smiling at him for a good minute or so.
Will knew what she was thinking. All that mattered was that he was sleeping under his parent’s roof once more. Her eldest son was home and the war with France was over.
“So, do you have plans for the day?” she asked.
Will had given Hattie sufficient time to find her way to her uncle’s house. Time to enjoy the illusion of having given him the slip. This morning he intended to pay Felix Wright a visit and set Hattie straight.
“Just going to catch up with an old friend,” he replied.
He hailed a hack out the front of the house, and made his way over to Argyle Street. Stepping out from the carriage, he paid the driver and with purpose headed toward number seventy-five.
Reaching the front steps, he stopped and checked that his waistcoat and jacket were straight. He had a speech carefully prepared as well as a plausible cover story to keep Hattie in her uncle’s good graces. It was time to end the game and make a formal offer for Hattie’s hand in marriage.
He knocked on the door. When the but
ler opened it, Will handed over his calling card.
“Mr. William Saunders for Mr. Felix Wright if he is at home,” said Will.
The butler frowned.
“I am sorry sir, I don’t understand.”
A slight sinking feeling fluttered in the bottom of Will’s stomach. He cleared this throat and attempted a second approach.
“This is Mr. Felix Wright’s house is it not?”
“Yes sir, it is. Mr. Wright however has not been in residence for some time. He is currently attached to the British envoy in Washington, District of Columbia. That is in the United States of America,” the butler replied.
Will ignored the man’s attempt to show off his knowledge of world geography. He was too busy worrying about the sinking feeling which had started to make itself feel at home in the pit of his stomach.
“Oh, I do apologize. A friend gave me this address, she must have been mistaken. By the by how long has Mr. Wright been in the United States?”
The butler thought for a moment.
“Coming up for four years sir.”
As the door closed, Will remained on the front steps. He was too angry to move. Hattie had lied to him even as he offered to take her home to her family.
The whole time they had been together on the boat. All through the long afternoons of passionate love making, she had been planning to make her escape. She had promised to not tell him any more lies.
“Deception by omission is still a lie, Hattie,” he muttered.
For someone who claimed to be unskilled at the art of deception, Hattie was slowly revealing herself to be quite the artisan. Even Will was man enough to acknowledge that her lies were what hurt him the most.
He had shared some of his deepest secrets with her, confided the pain he felt over the loss of Yvette, yet Hattie in return had continued to live a lie. She had used him, and then betrayed him.
He gritted his teeth. He was done with being a gentleman. When he finally did run Hattie to ground, he was going to make her pay for her lies. For having so shamelessly stolen his heart.
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