by Jun, Kristi
The fact was, deep down, he didn’t know if could fully trust her again, at least not yet. But he couldn’t deny the lightness he felt in his heart, too, one that he couldn’t allow himself to get used to. For now, he had more important matters that needed his full attention, like the damn prisoner he was hauling across England.
With the pistol by his side and a knife tucked in his boot, he kept his eyes on the prisoner who had attempted to kill him nearly three days ago. Their captive sat hunched over on the horse, as if he’d given up after two failed attempts to escape earlier today.
As they neared the main house, he quickly assessed his surroundings. His gaze darted to each window, each door, quickly gathering the clues he needed. Nothing seemed amiss. In fact, everything seemed calm and as it should be. Good, a sense of relief washed over him.
He pulled up on the reins for his team of horses to slow to a trot and quietly drove the carriage to the nearby stable to avoid being seen. Soon, Brandon, his “watchdog” appeared dressed as a stable hand and walked up to him with purposeful steps.
“Michael?” Brandon said, holding a rake in his hand. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”
Michael nodded, stepping off the driver’s seat and walking up to Brandon. “Thankfully the weather was forgiving. I hope your stay here has been uneventful?”
Brandon nodded and whispered, “Too quiet.”
Michael kept his eyes on the carriage door as they conversed. “Good to hear.” Brandon knew the protocol; after all he was Michael’s eyes and ears.
Brandon looked at the prisoner, barely sitting up on the horse. “Is he the one?”
Michael nodded and both men glowered at the prisoner.
“Looks like you took a nice beating,” Brandon said.
Michael looked down at his sore knuckles and raw hands. By now the bruise on his face should be nice and ripe. “Bastard tried to escape multiple times today.”
Brandon pointed to the cheek bone under his eye. “That looks like it hurts.”
“The pain’s subsided. Where is Roberts? I will need him to take charge of the prisoner and escort him to London.”
“The Runner is inside playing footman, a clumsy one at that, if you ask me. Your brother nearly tossed him out when he shattered the vase in the library yesterday.”
“Oh? What stopped him?”
“Said it was an accident. Roberts apologized, but he stood his ground and refused to be bullied. Quite a show, if you ask me. His lordship’s not happy about me showing up here unannounced either.”
“I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble?”
“I showed him the reference and he conceded, and the fact that he was in need of a stable hand might have aided in his decision to let me stay on.”
Michael gave Brandon a pat on the back. “Good, I’m glad it worked out.”
“By the way…your family has a visitor.”
“Oh?” Michael said, meeting Brandon’s raised brows.
“It’s Lord Tomkin. He arrived an hour ago.”
Michael was on full alert as soon as he heard that name. Why the hell is he here? Before Michael could question him further, the carriage door swung open and Emma peeked out. Her chocolate colored eyes looked right at him and a faint smile pulled at the corners of her full lips. Michael’s heart lurched like an idiotic school boy and he promptly cursed himself for the fool he was. Good God, man, get a hold of yourself. She stepped out of the carriage and approached him. Michael met her half way.
“This is Brandon. He is here to look after my family,” Michael said. “Brandon, may I introduce Miss Willoughby.”
Walking up to them, Brandon politely tilted his head to her with, “Miss. I’d better take him to the stables before we are forced to explain ourselves.” He stepped on to the driver’s seat, sat down, and drove on.
She asked, “I thought Lord Tomkin assigned Mr. Roberts to your family?”
“He did,” Michael said. “Brandon is one of my men.”
Her brows rose. “I see that you take no chances in protecting your family.” Emma gazed at Brandon driving away. “Is Mr. Roberts aware you have one of your men here?”
“Roberts doesn’t know.”
“The Runner will not be very pleased when he discovers you kept Brandon’s true identity from him.”
Michael didn’t respond straightaway. “I trust Roberts. But after Geoffrey’s death, I had to take extra precautions. Surely, you can understand that?”
“Well, I heard Mr. Brandon mention Lord Tomkin is here. Perhaps it’s time we get some answers?”
When she moved to head for the front door, Michael said, “Wait. Before we go inside, I need you to do something for me.”
“Oh?” Emma’s eyes were filled with curiosity. “That depends….”
“Let me do the talking, at least initially.” There were several seconds of silence. Her brows lifted in surprise and her expression churned. He feared she’d fight him. He knew he’d be faced with questions from Tomkin but he needed to assess the situation first before he knew how much to reveal.
“Why?” Her curious gaze searched his face.
“Just trust me on this, please.” He couldn’t very well speak the truth since her relationship with Lord Tomkin was a complicated one. When she opened her mouth, he braced himself for a battle.
“You can’t tell me or you won’t?”
“I can’t because I’m not certain what this gut feeling is yet,” he confessed. “I need you to trust me on this, just this once.” More than anything, he hoped to God he was wrong about Tomkin. He’d been a mentor to Michael for nearly a decade and had guided him as a young recruit.
She bit her lips and her brows drew together.
“Please, my sweet.” He reached and hooked her unruly hair behind her ear. There was a look of defiance in her eyes and he knew she would never agree to it.
My sweet….
He hadn’t used those words since a year ago. A mix of wet leather, rain, and spice arrested her senses. For a man who’d been riding all day, there was a sense of sharp awareness and strength about him that was too arousing.
“Emma?” Michael said. “Will you do it?”
Of course she wanted to question him further but she was keenly aware that this wasn’t the best time to do so. By God, he’d better have a damn good reason for asking her to keep quiet, other than his unfounded reasons that Lord Tomkin was somehow involved.
“Just this once,” she agreed. “But you should know that I am not happy about this, not in the least.” She watched him, but Michael said nothing. Honestly, what else could he say?
When they quietly walked to the large double doors, it suddenly opened and she saw Mr. Roberts, a Runner from Bow Street, donned in a footman’s livery. He glared at them rather broodingly. My goodness, the man looked quite formidable indeed.
“What the hell are you doing here,” Roberts hissed. “You’re supposed to be in Tibet.”
“Slight change in plans.” Michael turned to Emma with, “You know Roberts.”
Emma recalled Tomkin speaking of this arrangement now. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Roberts, or should I be addressing you by a different name?”
“Just Roberts, Miss.”
“The livery suits you quite well,” Michael noted.
Roberts yanked on his cravat. “I can’t fathom how anyone is expected to function normally in these ridiculous clothes.” Roberts stepped aside to let them in. “Lord Tomkin is here. I assume you’d like to speak with your superior before you settle in?”
Michael nodded and they quietly followed the Runner inside. They passed the stairwell with the rows of paintings that were most likely Michael’s ancestors. One particular painting of a young blond woman caught Emma’s attention, one that she hadn’t noticed before. She had Michael’s blue eyes but there was a sense of melancholy there. Emma pulled her gaze from the painting and followed the two men.
Mr. Roberts knocked twice and opened the parlor door.
Upon seeing Emma and Michael at the threshold, the three men immediately rose to greet them. Inside the Earl of Chatham looked rather confounded at seeing her and Michael here again.
Tomkin, however, suddenly looked pale, as if he’d seen a ghost. Her composure melted away in seconds. She felt like a lost school girl who had finally found her way home. Mixed emotions ran havoc in her, in part, by her disappointment of the mission gone wrong and, in part, that she had disappointed him. Quickly, she gathered her strength and followed Michael into the parlor.
“Ah, I see my brother and his fiancée have joined us—again, and quite unexpectedly,” Lord Chatham intoned, standing. He walked up to her, kissed her hand, and gestured for her to sit next to Lord Tomkin. “Please do sit. I am ashamed to say I was not aware you were Lord Tomkin’s niece,” Lord Chatham said to her.
Emma said, “Please, there was no way you could have known, my lord. There is no harm done.”
“You are kind,” Lord Chatham said. “This is Lord Blackthorn, a friend of the family.” Once the introductions were made, Lord Chatham faced his twin brother. “I heard about Geoffrey. I am deeply sorry. He was like family to us and I know how close you two were.”
“He was,” Michael said.
“We all grieve his untimely death. In fact, mother is quite distraught with the news and has taken to bed. Kyra and her husband are with her now.”
“Yes, it is a tragedy,” Tomkin concurred.
“Indeed,” Lord Blackthorn chimed in. “He will be dearly missed by everyone.”
Tomkin sipped the tea from his porcelain cup and set it down on the saucer. “Chatham, I wonder if I might have a word with Michael and Emma in private?”
Lord Chatham blinked several times. “Of course. Take all the time you need. I will have tea and biscuits brought up in a few minutes.”
Lord Blackthorn and Lord Chatham both stood and quietly left the room. Once the room was cleared, Michael didn’t delay in addressing Tomkin. “What have you told my family exactly?”
“I think it is I who should be asking the questions here.” Tomkin paused and looked at Emma. “But I guess I do owe you an explanation.”
“Rightly so,” Michael said.
“I informed them he was killed in a robbery attempt on his way to the Home Office and they shot him when he fought back.”
Michael’s expression twisted into annoyance. “A robbery?”
“Would you rather I told your family he committed high treason and died of dishon—”
“Now, look here—”
“I think,” Emma chimed in, “we need to focus on this mission.” Emma saw Michael’s hands ball into fists.
Lord Tomkin cleared his throat and pulled his gaze away from Michael. “By and by, I hope you and Emma have a good explanation as to your presence here. You’re supposed to be on your way to Tibet.”
“We were until we were shot at and followed on the ship,” Michel said.
Emma sensed Michael’s tone was on edge. She feared when her superior realized what they had done, he’d refuse to allow her to be part of the mission and she’d be left to find her parents’ killer on her own.
“The missive…is it safe?” Tomkin asked.
Emma bit her lips. This is not good. She watched Michael, but his expression was stealth, his features cool and aloof. He didn’t speak straightaway either. She saw his sharp blue eyes not missing a beat. She hoped he’d find a diplomatic approach to address this issue.
“Yes, I suppose it is safe, after all, there wasn’t anything worth stealing,” Michael’s tone was filled with sarcasm and resentment.
Their superior shook his head. “I see you both have disobeyed my orders.”
Tomkin’s contempt and patronizing tone sparked resentment in her. Wasn’t he at least content to see her unscathed? After being shot at twice, hijacked, and Michael nearly killed in the process, not to mention transporting a dangerous prisoner across England in a torrential storm and facing obstacles that had nearly done them in, she could not keep her silence any longer. “If you must know, we had no—”
“What Emma means,” Michael said, cutting her off, “is we had to secure the information we were carrying. We both agreed it would be a wise course of action for her to memorize the content so that it didn’t get into the wrong hands after we discovered we were being followed and shot at.”
“I see,” Tomkin said thoughtfully. “I did everything I could to make certain both of you wouldn’t be followed, but my efforts, it seems, have been fruitless. I have underestimated our enemy greatly indeed.”
“Yes, we all have,” Michael said. “Which begs the question, why were we ordered to deliver a blank missive half way around the world?”
Tomkin sighed and sat down on the couch again and Emma joined him. Michael kept his distance and leaned against the ivory-colored marble mantel above the fireplace, fire crackling in the hearth.
“The blank missive was a symbol. Samuel, the man you were supposed to deliver the missive to, would have understood what the letter meant. My seal would have authenticated who the message was from. And now you have both jeopardized the entire mission,” Tomkin said.
A sense of regret showered over Emma. She knew there had to be a good reason, but knowing that their action may have inadvertently hindered the mission made her more determined than before to get to the bottom of all this.
“Who is Samuel?” Michael said. “Why is he so important to this mission?”
For a moment, Emma sensed Lord Tomkin’s reluctance. In truth, their team knew Lord Tomkin provided the only information the team needed to complete the mission. Yet she could not deny the resentment she felt for her superior. He should have told them everything from the beginning.
Tomkin sighed. “Samuel is a friend. He worked for the Foreign Office. Emma’s father and Samuel were on a mission during the war. They were given a kill order to eliminate one of Napoleon’s sleeper spies residing here in London,” Tomkin paused, sighing as if the memory burdened him. “We didn’t know he had married an English woman and sired a son.” He shook his head. “No one knew about this boy, or that the French spy had given up on spying.”
“Don’t tell me,” Emma chimed in horrified.
“I will not burden you with the unnecessary details, but needless to say we believe the son is our target and is here in London. He must be nearly thirty-five now.” Tomkin paused, sighing as if frustrated. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
“What evidence do you have that it was him? You are aware we have many enemies who want nothing more than to see us burn in hell,” Michael said.
“There is more…,” Tomkin admitted. “When Emma’s parents were killed, there was a message, one that I didn’t want to tell you about Emma.” He sighed heavily as if recalling a painful memory. “At the time, I didn’t feel it would help you to move on with your life.”
“What did it say?” Emma asked. Her voice was at a tremor and her pulse quickened in anticipation.
“It said, ‘This is only the beginning. Your loved ones will pay for your sins.’”
Emma went weak in the knees and suddenly felt ill. Hot tears burned behind her eyes.
“There can be only one person responsible for your parents’ murder. It was the boy…well, he is a grown man now, and we think he attempted to murder Samuel three months before your parents were murdered.” Tomkin sighed again. “While he may have survived, Samuel was never the same after that, in fact he was broken by the experience. He left England to find solace and eventually ended up in Tibet. I told him to remain in India, that traveling to Tibet was dangerous. Perhaps he was looking for a refuge? But I told him I may need his help one day and he agreed that he would come back, if the time was right.”
“So then it would have been a gamble. He could have refused to help.”
“Perhaps, but I think seeing Emma would have helped to coax him to return since he knew your father well and he knew you too, Emma.”
�
�But I have no memories of Samuel.”
“Of course not, you were only four at the time you last saw him,” Lord Tomkin said. “Samuel has seen the man we are looking for. I had hoped Samuel’s presence in London would coax our target out of hiding.”
Emma fought the anger and sadness brewing inside of her.
Tomkin sighed heavy, as if he recalled memories he didn’t wish to unleash. “With Geoffrey killed, all connection to the murderer is lost. No one knows who he is, and although I’ve heard he walks amongst the lords, my attempt to discover his identity has failed.”
Emma noticed Tomkin observing Michael for several seconds.
“Despite everything, I thought it would serve Geoffrey’s memory well if I delivered the message personally and paid my respects to your family. I don’t want to taint their memory of him. Despite what you might think, there is no reason for them to know any of this.”
“Thank you,” Michael said.
“Tell me, have you learned anything new thus far? Were you able to identify the person who shot at you both?”
“He was killed before we could question him.”
“I see,” Tomkin said, rubbing his chin. “So there were two?”
Michael nodded.
“What about the other shooter, did you get a good look at him?”
Michael looked on and shook his head. “He got away before I could.”
Suddenly she felt the tension in the pit of her stomach. If she were blind to the situation, Emma would have believed everything Michael had said.
“I see,” Tomkin said nodding. “I’ve stayed longer than necessary. I think it is time for me to depart.” He stood. “Despite everything, I’m glad to see both of you safe. Roberts has done a superb job looking after your family. I think it’s best for you two to remain here, for now.”
There was nothing more she’d like to do than to stay here with Michael, but knowing the ultimate outcome, it would not serve anyone for her to stay here with his family and keep up with lies. “On the contrary, I’d like to go back to London with you.” She felt Michael’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look at him. “There is no reason for me to stay here.”