Enemy's Kiss

by Jun, Kristi

  “I certainly am not in love with him,” she blurted out. “It’s not me he is after, it’s you. He won’t stop until he hunts you down to the ends of the earth.”

  He cupped her chin and yanked her close to him forcing her to look at him. “You have your mother’s eyes,” he said softly. She tried to pull free of him and he released her. “I know you’re in love with him because that’s the same look your mother had for me…once.”

  She shook her head. “What are you saying?”

  “Have you ever wondered what might have happened if your mother hadn’t met your father? The truth is, you should have been my daughter. If it wasn’t for him, your mother would be alive today. Your father got what he deserved when he seduced my fiancée and forced her to betray her people.”

  She shook her head. “Her people? I don’t understand….” She stopped and her mouth pulled into a thin line, as understanding dawned on her. “Are you telling me my mother was your fiancée?”

  “She was,” he said. “Until your arrogant father showed up.”

  “My mother could never have loved someone like you. You are truly insane if you think I will believe anything you have to say to me.”

  “No you wouldn’t, would you?” he said. “The fact is your mother and I came to England together twenty-five years ago.”

  “How is that possible?” she said. “My mother was born in Yorkshire, her parents—”

  “All fabricated to carry out our mission, to infiltrate the English government and send back information to our Emperor. Your mother was French, born in the slums of Paris to a whore. She was begging for food when I first saw her.” He paused, the hot memories coming back. Their first kiss…their promise to always be there for each other. “She was—” He stopped, emotions choking him. “But your father showed up and fed her lies.”

  “You are a liar—a traitor.”

  “I have letters, if you care to read them.”

  Narrowing her eyes, she said, “So, you killed my parents?” Her words trembled, tears forming in her eyes.

  “What happened to your mother was an accident. Although she betrayed me and her people, I was willing to forgive her. Your father, on the other hand, deserved no less than what he got.”

  Smack! His cheek burned and stung. She lifted her hand to slap him again, but he gripped her wrist. “Your anger will not bring her back. The truth is you should have been my daughter, Emma.”

  “You are a madman.”

  “Betrayed yes, but not mad.” He watched her most carefully. “Tell me, how much does Michael know? What else did he tell you?” He seized her wrist and pulled her to him.

  “Stop this.” She tried to get free of his grip. “You are hurting me.”

  “Tell me.” He pulled her closer to him.

  She spat right in his face and it landed smack on the tip of his nose.

  “You ungrateful chit.” He smacked her so hard that his palm stung from the impact. The chit’s cheek flamed red as she glared at him. “That should teach you to speak with care in my presence.” He shoved her away and wiped off the slime on his face with a handkerchief he retrieved from his coat pocket.

  “You murdered innocent people. What makes you think I will ever help you?”

  “There are no such things as innocent lives, my dear girl. One man’s fight for justice is another man’s tyranny.”

  For a moment she looked at him, the hate in her gaze, softening.

  Was that pity in her eyes? Old familiar wounds resurfaced, ones that he endured too many times as a young boy.

  “You can stop this now,” she pleaded. “You have a choice.”

  “I only have one choice.” His tone was laced with resolve. “It’s people like you, damn Society, who toss a coin our way and call it charity, then proceed to pretend we don’t exist.”

  Emma shook her head, as if confused. “What? I don’t understand what you mean. This isn’t about charity. This is about a choice. You can stop this madness and make the choice to make a difference.”

  He anchored his brewing rage deep down and buried it again. “When the world turned its back on me and left me to die in the gutters, there was only one person who took me in and cared for me. He gave me what had been deprived of me since birth, something to live for. My loyalty is and always will be to him. Not that you’d ever understand what it means to be loyal.”

  “If you truly mean what you say, that I was meant to be your daughter, then do it for me. Stop this madness, please.”

  He shook his head. “War is looming on the horizon. You’d be wise to listen to me.” He walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside to look down at the streets below before pulling away from it again. “How much does Michael know about me and my plans?” She said nothing. “Have it your way. I will not be responsible for what happens to his family.”

  “No, please don’t. You don’t have to worry about Michael. His first priority is his family, not me. I’ll do as you ask, just please don’t hurt them.”

  “You stupid, stupid girl. Michael is blind where you are concerned. There is no possibility that he would head north knowing you are here with me in London. He is coming for you, I am sure of it.”

  “I can assure you, Michael has no interest in me. Not after the way I left. Besides, you said it yourself. I am nothing to him.”

  Tomkin saw the desperation in her eyes. If he didn’t know Michael as well as he did, he would have believed her just now. “Pack your things. We are leaving.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “If you come willingly, you shall have a comfortable life with me. Fight me and you will have a very painful existence and you will wish I had taken your life instead.” He paused and watched her. “It is up to you, my dear girl. Now, are you going to go upstairs and pack or shall I call for a maid?”

  CHAPTER 25

  Michael quickly got off his dun Hunter and looked up at the stylish townhouse in Grosvenor Square from the pavement. He carefully observed his surroundings and the perimeter as he’d been trained to do. Row should be nearby to keep an eye on Tomkin’s movements.

  He clinched his jaw when worry and anticipation won over. The thought of her inside with Tomkin made his blood boil, but once again, he cooled his nerves. I’m going to kill you if you hurt her.

  Walking up the front steps, he stopped at the door and reached out to take the brass knocker but something caught his eye. He leaned in. Above the knocker was a small brass bird affixed to the door and there was something written on it. He bent in closer to investigate. There right on the bird’s chest was a capital letter N. Too small to notice if one wasn’t looking for it. He’d seen this familiar insignia before, he thought with dread; Napoleon Bonaparte’s insignia. His suspicion was right on the mark and a deep sense of betrayal gutted into his veins once more.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  He waited, but no answer came.

  Bang, bang, bang.

  A few seconds later, Johnson, the butler, slowly opened the door, his bushy brows rose. “What can I do for you, Mr. Whitfield?”

  “I need to speak with Emma.”

  Johnson’s brows flattened, his lips pulled. “Miss Willoughby, sir, is indisposed.”

  “Allow me in, Johnson. This is an emergency,” Michael barked. He would push his way in if he had to.

  “Sir, if you would like to leave a card, I will be sure Miss Willoughby receives it.” The butler gazed at an onlooker, then at the man in front of him again.

  Michael’s jaw clenched, his fists balling. Michael took another step forward and looked down at the butler who was half a foot shorter. “We can be civil or not, it’s up to you. Either way, I am not leaving until I see her, is that clear?” It took several seconds before Johnson moved aside to allow him passage.

  Once inside the house, he took two steps at a time up the main stairway. Calling her name, he checked each room. When he finally entered Emma’s room, the dresser drawers were wide open. He ran into the adjoini
ng dressing room. Empty. Calling out her name again, he stormed out of her room and searched the house, every room, one by one. As each second ticked by, sickness showered over him. Damn it. He was too late.

  Too late.

  Johnson entered the room where Michael was. “Sir, if you’d allow me to explain. I could have saved you the trouble. Miss Willoughby and Lord Tomkin have left the country. I am afraid they won’t be back anytime soon.”

  Good God. Had she been a willing participant all along? Had she betrayed him after all they’d been through together? No time to think. “Where to?”

  “I believe his lordship said France, sir.”

  “When did they leave?”

  “They departed three hours ago.”

  “Which port?”

  “I am not privy to that information, sir,” he said. “In fact, we are about to close down the house. We must get on with our duties. Please, if you’ll allow me to show you out….” The butler stood there, his hand gesturing for Michael to follow him.

  Michael hesitated. Something wasn’t right. He felt it in his bones. He could not completely discount the possibility she’d been a willing participant in Tomkin’s scheme. He made his way to her room again and looked around to see if he’d missed anything. Any hints Emma had left for him, but he saw nothing.

  “Sir?”

  Michael hesitantly followed the butler to the foyer.

  The butler watched Michael for several seconds, observing him. “If you would like to leave your card, I would be happy to pass it on to Miss Willoughby.”

  “A card?” Michael cocked a brow. “I thought you said they won’t be back for a while?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. That is correct, sir,” the butler said. “What I meant was when they return from France, I would be very happy to pass on your card to her when she returns.”

  Johnson suddenly seemed tense. But Michael couldn’t decipher whether his uneasiness was due to deceit or something more benign. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me, Johnson?”

  The butler shook his head. “I was merely trying to do what I can to assist you, sir. You seem very eager to get in touch with her.”

  “Are you certain that is all?”

  “Yes, sir,” the butler said. “Did you want to leave a card, sir?”

  “No. And I won’t be back.” With that Michael stepped out of the house and the butler quickly closed the door with a click and locked it.

  Michael mounted his dun Hunter and looked up at Emma’s window again. There he saw the butler looking down at him between the curtains before quickly drawing them shut. He reached inside his coat pocket and felt the four letter’s he’d found inside Geoffrey’s wooden box that he had dug up the night before. He intended to find Hansford, but first things first; he needed to check the passenger manifest at the London Port. If there were ships departing from London to France, he’d find them.

  Looking up at the sky, dark clouds rolled in again. He kicked his horse into motion and trotted toward the port, quickly picking up speed.

  * * *

  Emma was strapped to a chair in the servant’s bedroom in the attic. Tomkin was standing by the door with a pistol, his ear pressed against it listening and waiting for Johnson’s return.

  “Emma!”

  With the faint sound of Michael’s voice below, excitement, hope and joy all melded together tightly in her chest. She wanted to scream, to alert him, but it was useless with a gag in her mouth.

  “Premature, my dear girl.”

  Not much later, she heard Johnson’s voice but she could not make out the words. Soon, the voices faded. Stairs creaked. Someone was coming. With each step, the wooden stairs squeaked on, until the footfalls ceased at the door. Her breath hitched, waiting, hoping it was Michael.

  Disappointment ensued when Johnson’s voice alerted them to unlock the door. She pinched her eyes shut, held still by the utter disappointment. The old butler informed his lordship that Michael departed and didn’t plan to return.

  Tomkin said, “Good. So Michael believed you when you told him we left for France?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Johnson said.

  No, no, no. The final blow of disappointment shook her.

  She’d been naive. Too trusting.

  Perhaps if she’d been more jaded and questioned her beliefs about the world around her, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. One thing was certain, Michael was right; there wasn’t anyone she could wholeheartedly trust in this world anymore. The one person she had trusted had betrayed her. And why shouldn’t Michael believe Johnson? From the start he’d been suspicious of her, questioning her motives. How could he so easily believe that she had betrayed him, her own country, and denied her own principles?

  “Watch for Michael, he may be back,” Tomkin said to his butler. When the butler submissively nodded, he continued, “You have been loyal to me all these years, Johnson. I will make certain you are well taken care of once I am gone.”

  “I am grateful for your generosity.” Johnson dutifully departed.

  Tomkin plucked the rag out of her mouth. “Now that Michel is gone, we can get on with the plan. It will be a lot easier if you stop fighting me, my dear girl.”

  “I will never accept this. I’d rather die than help you,” her voice trembled as she spoke.

  “You may not understand now,” he said. “But I am doing this for us.”

  She glared at him. “You are delusional.”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk…,” Lord Tomkin said, shaking his head. “Just like your stubborn mother. She fought me too. And look where it got her.”

  Emma was horrified. “She was beautiful and you killed her because of your jealousy and greed. Because she saw you for what you are. A murderer. You deserve to rot in hell.” She glared at him. For a moment she thought he would hit her again, but she held his gaze in defiance. By God, how did she not see the evil in him?

  Tomkin untied her and forced her up and out of the attic. She nearly fell down the narrow wooden stairs when he shoved her forward. He pushed her again and she missed the last step, landing hard on her knees and hands. He yanked her up as if she were no better than an animal and forced her to follow him.

  As soon as they entered his study, he clicked the door shut and locked it. Then he instructed her to stand in the corner of the room. “Where are you taking me?”

  “You will get your answer soon enough.” He pointed the pistol at her. “Don’t move.”

  She watched as Tomkin strategically placed his hand on the top right-hand corner of the wooden panel on the wall. With a quick push, it clicked open to reveal a hidden door. He pulled the door wide open to reveal a dark tunnel.

  Tomkin opened the door wide. “After you, my dear.”

  Quiet horror filled her belly. She looked in the dark corridor, the stench of sewer and stale air working its way to her. He waved his hand gesturing for her to step inside. She didn’t budge. If she went in there, all her hopes of being discovered would vanish. “Where does it lead?”

  “No need to concern yourself with that,” he said. “I won’t keep you in here for long. But we must be cautious where Michael is concerned.”

  She didn’t budge.

  He wedged the barrel of his pistol on her back. “I don’t have all day.”

  She hesitated, but stepped forward and looked into the tunnel again. The sound of little critters skittering across the floor caught her attention. She looked back at Tomkin and saw the pistol he was holding. From the look in his eyes, he wouldn’t think twice about dragging her in there if it meant accomplishing his mission. Ducking low, she stepped into the dark corridor, her captor tailing close behind her.

  Then, all of a sudden, her world went completely dark.

  CHAPTER 26

  Michael shoved the heavy wooden door open with a squeak, the familiar scent of stale gin and overdone cabbage whiffing by him as he entered the Black Cat Tavern at the East End of London. The owner, John, instantly recognized him and gestured
for him to head toward the back, near the stairs, where his meetings usually took place. He nodded to the owner and made his way through the crowded tavern where vagabonds, prostitutes, and thieves wove themselves about in a hazy dimness. Row slouched at a back table drinking. As Michael walked toward him, his comrade lifted his gaze with a grimace.

  His associate pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. “You’re late. Forty five minutes to be exact. I was beginning to think you’d never show.”

  “My apologies.” Michael pulled out a wooden chair and sat down to join him. “I had to investigate a lead before coming here.”

  “And…?” his ally asked before taking a gulp of his beer.

  “No luck, I’m afraid.” Michael paused to gather his thoughts. “Tomkin has Emma and I’m uncertain if it’s voluntary,” he admitted to Row. As soon as he said the words out loud, he regretted it. There was no possible way she’d betray her own country with that snake.

  “Do you really think she’d betray everyone after what happened to her parents?” Row asked thoughtfully.

  Michael recalled the letter she’d left him and shook his head. “She wouldn’t betray anyone. It’s not in her nature.” She had selflessly put others before herself, asking him to make amends with his family. He’d never second-guessed his motives before Emma came along. Nothing was simple since she came into his life nearly a year ago. But she wasn’t a traitor.

  “She arrived at Tomkin’s late morning. They haven’t left the house since. I scoured the area and every door and window was locked. I didn’t want to risk being noticed searching about the property midday, so I left.”

  “But they could have easily left by the mews. When I got there earlier today, the butler informed me they had departed for France, but I checked and there isn’t a ship leaving from the Port of London for France today. I did manage to get a glimpse of a passenger manifest when I snuck into the shipping company before I came here. There is, however, a ship arriving in London tomorrow and that ship will depart for France in five days.”