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Secrets to a Gentleman's Heart (Gentlemen of Intrigue Book 1)

Page 26

by Samantha Grace


  Xavier found his pants and tugged them over his hips. “I will ring for a meal.”

  Neither was fit to dine in public now, nor did she want to endure a long dinner hour hiding that she was the most gratified bride in London. She spotted a leg of the buckskins sticking out from under the bed and snatched them en route to the water closet. “I will be setting myself back to rights.”

  “I like you out of sorts.” Xavier caught her around the waist and placed a kiss on her forehead. She leaned into him, savoring his warmth and masculine scent. When they released each other, Xavier grabbed a candle, removed the lampshade, and lit it. “For you, madame.” He replaced the candle in the holder and passed it to her.

  “Thank you.” She rose on her toes and placed a peck on his lips. “Please hurry back. I cannot be certain, but I think I am missing you already.”

  He smirked, appearing rather pleased with his effect on her. “I am only going to the sitting room.”

  She let herself into the water closet and closed the door. The candlelight seemed brighter in the small space. She caught her reflection in the looking glass. “For pity’s sake,” she mumbled. Her hair was a mess.

  She could hear Xavier moving about in the bedchamber as she combed her fingers through her hair. When she’d accepted her efforts were for naught, she picked up the white porcelain pitcher on the washstand and poured water into the basin. Xavier announced he would be back shortly, and she teasingly wished him a safe journey.

  She dropped a cloth in the basin and was wringing the water from it when a loud bang caused her to jump.

  “Where the hell is she? Claudine!”

  Regina’s heart stopped.

  “She is not here, Stanhurst. Get out!”

  Good Lord. Claudine had warned them against the duke, but Regina hadn’t expected Stanhurst to come to the hotel where any number of people might recognize him.

  “Claudine! Where is the whore?”

  “Madame Bellerose is not here.” Xavier sounded calm—much calmer than she felt with her heart trying to beat its way through her breastbone. Her husband’s lack of excitement only seemed to agitate the duke. He bellowed for his mistress.

  “Lord Geoffrey, are you going to allow your father to cause a scene?” Xavier asked.

  Regina mouthed a curse. Stanhurst had brought his son.

  “He does as he wishes,” Lord Geoffrey said. A crash came from the sitting room.

  “Claudine! I know you are hiding. Show yourself, and I will forgive you.”

  “I already said she isn’t here.”

  “Shut your bloody mouth, you lying bastard. Claudine, come out. No one will be hurt if you show yourself now.”

  The only liar in the room was the Duke of Stanhurst. Regina had witnessed the aftermath of what he had done to the poor woman, and if she had any say, he would never see Claudine again.

  “Don’t make me drag you out by your hair!” Something smashed against the wall.

  Regina pulled on the buckskins. Stanhurst needed to know he couldn’t come to their rooms and harass her husband. And he certainly couldn’t kick up a fuss and use foul language with a lady present.

  “Stop!” Xavier barked. “You can’t go in there.”

  Regina tugged on the water closet door to find Xavier blocking the doorway to the bedchamber with his body.

  “Remove yourself, Vistoire. My father only wants the woman. Set her free and you will not be harmed.”

  “The duke is mistaken,” Xavier said. “I have no prisoners here. I am alone.”

  The warning in her husband’s tone was clear. He wanted her to stay hidden.

  She peeked through the crack in the water closet door.

  “Step aside, Vistoire.”

  Xavier’s back stiffened. He raised his hands in the air. “For God’s sake, put away the pistols before one of you puts a hole through the wall. We can resolve this peacefully.”

  Oh, law! They were armed. What was she supposed to do now? She eased the door closed, trying to recall what items were in the bedchamber and if any of them could be used for a weapon. In truth, she hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings earlier, and she probably wouldn’t reach anything before the duke or Lord Geoffrey overtook her.

  The duke yelled for Claudine repeatedly, his voice growing louder as he entered the bedchamber. Scrambling to extinguish the candle, Regina almost knocked the holder off the washstand. She caught it before everything tipped and blew out the flame. The water closet was plunged in darkness, but as her eyes adjusted to the scant moonlight streaming through the window, she could distinguish the outlines of the washstand and chamber pot.

  The banging continued. Drawers slammed and glass shattered, which made no sense when Claudine was clearly too large to hide in a vase.

  “What the hell is this? A bloody valise?” The duke seemed incapable of speaking in a volume below a bellow. “These are women’s clothes. She is here. Claudine! I am going to blow a hole in you the second I find you, you ungrateful bitch.”

  “No one is getting shot. Put down the pistol.” The thread of panic underlying Xavier’s command caused her to tremble.

  She was torn between fighting off the duke and his son at her husband’s side and going for aid. Deciding the odds of saving Xavier were greater if she sought assistance, she unlatched the window and rose on the tips of her toes to lift the sash to its highest position, so she could fit through the opening.

  The duke’s yelling grew louder.

  The window ledge was too high for her to just climb out, so she jumped, hauling her torso onto the windowsill. Her legs dangled and the wood casing pressed hard into her belly. She had no leverage to push herself to freedom, and her arms weren’t strong enough to lift her body weight. Rocking from side to side, she swung her legs toward the adjacent wall and got a foothold. She braced her feet against the wall and wiggled into a seated position on the windowsill. The duke hadn’t discovered the water closet yet, but based on the loud crashes and shouts outside the door, he wasn’t giving up until he searched every inch of the space.

  Carefully, she climbed to her feet and inched onto the building’s ledge. She hugged the wall, the cold stone gouging her cheek. Her fingers ached from gripping tightly to the edges of the blocks. One strong wind could blow her over the edge. The two-story fall to the alley might not kill her, but she would definitely be maimed.

  “Upon my honor, Madame Bellerose is not here.”

  Xavier shouted when the water closet door flew open, and the window lit up. Regina held her breath. Her legs quivered. If the duke looked out the window, he would see her.

  “She isn’t here, Stanhurst,” Xavier said, “but I will take you to her. She has caused me enough trouble. You may have her.”

  Regina’s heart dropped to her stomach. If Xavier left the hotel with Stanhurst, she wouldn’t know where to find him, because she knew with certainty he would never take the duke to Wedmore House. Nausea welled up inside her when Stanhurst agreed.

  The window darkened again, and she shuffled back toward safety. Climbing inside the building proved easier. She lowered to the water closet floor as quietly as possible and pressed her ear to the door. The rooms beyond were silent. She crept into the bedchamber and ascertained she was alone. Xavier had left the lamp burning.

  She raced to collect her slippers, grabbed the sash from her gown to help keep Xavier’s pants from drooping on her hips, and extinguished the lamp. After she shot into the corridor and dashed down the stairs, she burst through the front door of the hotel to the accompaniment of scandalized gasps from people on the walkway, but she couldn’t care less about offending anyone.

  The duke’s carriage was pulling onto the street, becoming swallowed by the flow of traffic. Regina spotted a hackney coach across the way. She darted into the well-traveled thoroughfare, weaving between carriages when they were at a standstill, and reached the opposite walkway without incident.

  “You there,” she called out to the coachman.
“I need a coach. It is urgent.”

  A broad-shouldered man stepped in front of the carriage door, blocking her access. He was young with a face that teetered between handsome and average, but his cocky smile brimmed with the confidence of one who thought highly of himself. “Let me see your blunt, miss.” He ogled her attire. “You are a miss, are you not?”

  She huffed. “I haven’t time for nonsense. Step aside.”

  He planted a hand against her shoulder when she tried to push around him. “Not until you tell me how you intend to pay.”

  She sputtered. “I assure you that you will receive compensation when I reach my destination. I give you my word.”

  “Your word means nothing. What else do you have to offer?” His wolfish grin caused her stomach to plunge.

  “Surely, you are not suggesting—” A tap on her shoulder interrupted her line of thought. She turned to discover a veritable giant standing behind her.

  He smiled politely and tipped his battered hat. “Mrs. Vistoire, would you please move aside?”

  “How do you know who I am?” she asked, too shocked to object when he took hold of her shoulders and walked her a few paces away.

  “Mr. Vistoire is my friend.” He returned to the carriage and punched the young man without warning. The poor man dropped on the walkway, holding his nose and moaning.

  “Jamie?” The coachman leaned out of the driver’s box to check on his partner, and the large man with unnaturally purplish-red lips snagged him by the collar and dragged him from his seat. When the coachman protested, the brute kicked him in the backside and sent him sprawling on the ground.

  He held his hand out to her. Regina backed away, her muscles tensing in preparation of running as fast as her legs would carry her.

  “They are going to kill Mr. Vistoire,” he said. “We have to go if we are going to save him.”

  Regina hesitated. It was madness to go anywhere with this stranger, but something inside her urged her to take his hand. Perhaps it was the lack of malice in his eyes, which was in conflict with the violence she’d just witnessed. But she was desperate to reach her husband, so she ignored reason and trusted her instincts.

  She scrambled onto the box. The carriage tilted violently with his added weight when he climbed up beside her, and she grabbed for anything to keep from sliding toward him.

  “There was a ducal coach that just left the hotel,” she said. “Did you see which direction it went?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He released the brake and snapped the reins. The team darted onto the street, barely missing the coachman who tried to jump in front to stop them. “They are headed to the docks.”

  “How do you know?”

  She gasped when they almost collided with a Berlin. He maneuvered them through a break in the traffic, and they barreled past two more carriages. She gripped the edge of the seat until her fingers ached.

  “I heard the duke tell his coachman,” the man shouted over the rattle of harnesses and roar of wheels and hooves.

  He drove the team like the madman she had first judged him to be, racing around corners. At one point, she would have sworn they were on two wheels.

  “Who are you?”

  “Benny. Mr. Vistoire is my friend.”

  Benny! Xavier’s gaoler. What had she done?

  He snapped the whip over the horses’ heads, and the team tore down an empty street. Buildings flew by in a blur. It was too dark to make out landmarks. The wheels hit a hole in the street, bouncing her in the air. Benny shot his arm out and grabbed a handful of her shirt to save her from flying off the box.

  Her hands and legs shook from the close call.

  “Hang on, ma’am. I took an oath to protect Mr. Vistoire’s loved ones, and he is smitten with you.”

  Against her better judgment, she clung to him. She wanted to ask how he knew anything about her relationship with Xavier, but instead she asked, “What oath? Xavier never mentioned you pledging an oath to him.”

  Benny grinned, revealing gaps where he was missing a few teeth. “He doesn’t know about it. I said it when I was watching over his family. Can’t be seen, or Tommy will have me flayed.”

  Regina’s eyes widened. Surely, he was exaggerating. “Who is Tommy?”

  “My brother, and he gets real angry when I forget to call him by his new name, so don’t say anything when we get to the docks.”

  An alarm sounded in Regina’s mind. “Why would your brother be at the docks? What does he have to do with the duke?”

  “I don’t have all that sorted out, ma’am, but I followed my brother last night after he met with Mr. Vistoire.”

  “Your brother is Farrin?” Regina’s head began to spin and pins of light danced in her vision.

  Benny glanced at her. “You don’t look well. Are you going to faint?” Before she could say she was all right, he palmed the back of her head and thrust it between her knees. “Keep down until it goes away.”

  She flailed her arm, trying to knock his meaty hand away, but she couldn’t reach it. And slapping his shins proved ineffective. Oddly, the dizziness receded, and she realized he was still talking.

  “I kept a watch on my brother all night. He met the duke’s son this morning in the park. They were talking about the duke and Mr. Vistoire.”

  “Let me up,” she commanded. “I am not going to faint.”

  He released her, and she sat up slowly, pushing her hair away from her face.

  “How were you able to eavesdrop at the park? What are you, a spy?”

  He flashed his gap-toothed smile. “No, ma’am. Truth is, no one pays attention to an idiot. And I wore a disguise.”

  She didn’t even want to know what disguise a man of his size could possibly wear to go unnoticed. “What did they say?”

  “They want to kill the duke and blame Mr. Vistoire. The duke’s son will shoot Mr. Vistoire and say he was defending his father. But if I know Tommy, he probably plans to kill all three.”

  “That is not reassuring, Benny, not reassuring at all.”

  He shrugged. “We will stop him. They aren’t far ahead of us now.”

  With their wild race through the streets, she wouldn’t be surprised if they arrived at the docks first. “How are we going to stop them? They have pistols.”

  “We will think of something together.”

  “Together,” she mumbled. “Once this is behind us, would you talk to my husband about togetherness? He is unfamiliar with the word.”

  “Whatever you want, ma’am.”

  She smiled at his agreeableness. “In the park, did either man mention a map?”

  “The one that leads to the assassin group? Aye, then Tommy told the duke’s son to shut his mouth, or he’d cut out his tongue.” Benny slowed the team and pointed ahead. “See, I told you we would catch them. That is Tommy up ahead.”

  Regina squinted at the indistinct carriage in the distance. “How can you tell?”

  “The back wheel of his town carriage wobbles.”

  Now that they were no longer careening down the streets, she released Benny’s arm and scooted to create a little distance between them. “Are you telling the truth about wanting to help my husband? You were his gaoler.”

  She didn’t exactly expect honesty from him, but she needed to ask.

  “Yes, ma’am. I am real sorry for what I did. I was lonely, and Tommy said he would kill me if I set him free, but it was wrong to keep him from his family. I owe Mr. Vistoire. I will die for him, or you.”

  Thirty-three

  An eerie creaking carried on the night air as Xavier was forced to walk ahead of Stanhurst and his son at gunpoint. Water slapped against the sides of the ships, and the flow of the River Thames created a constant rushing sound.

  The stench of dead fish assaulted his sensibilities. He covered his nose and mouth. Darkness blanketed the area, making it difficult to see anything besides the dark bulks of the ships moored along the quay, which would aid him once he escaped.

  He glanc
ed at the river and discarded it as an option. Even if he managed to swim out of range of their pistols—which would be a difficult feat fully attired—he would likely contract dysentery.

  “You said you know where Claudine is,” Stanhurst snapped. “The docks are deserted.”

  “She is onboard one of the ships, the Eleanor. I don’t know where it is moored. We will have to look for it.”

  Xavier set his sights on the rows of warehouses standing in the distance. They would provide places to hide and perhaps he’d find a weapon. He just needed to create a distraction, so he could make a run for shelter then find his way back to Regina.

  The burning in his gut returned as he recalled the moment Stanhurst had jerked open the water closet door. Xavier had been terrified the duke would mistake Regina for his mistress and discharge his weapon, but she had saved herself. Stanhurst hadn’t noticed the open window, or if he had, apparently it hadn’t occurred to the duke that a woman would use it to escape. A sour taste rose in the back of Xavier’s throat. Had she climbed back inside safely?

  They were nearing the warehouses and his means of escape. He glanced back over his shoulder. “I suppose it didn’t occur to you to bring the carriage lamp. It would make finding the ship easier.”

  The duke growled in frustration. “Retrieve it,” he barked at Lord Geoffrey. “The whore is going to pay for her betrayal.”

  A low chuckle from behind them caused Xavier’s hair to stand on end. He knew that laugh.

  “Isn’t shagging you punishment enough?”

  Stanhurst spun toward Farrin. “What the devil are you doing here? You are a traitor to the King. This man is a spy, and you allowed him to go free.”

  The night hid Farrin’s face, but Xavier could hear the sneer in his tone. “You are a liar and coward. You don’t even have the liver to do your own killing.”

  Xavier eased toward the warehouses, his muscles tensing to run.

 

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