Lady of Intrigue

by Sabrina Darby

  A hollow darkness coursed through her chest, making her ache. Still, she longed for him.

  “You know this, Jane.” Landsdowne’s voice was surprisingly gentle as he spoke to her reason, to the part of her that did know, that looked askance at her tumultuous emotions. “You are not a fool.”

  “Of course not,” she said instantly, hiding the despair that was tearing her apart inside. But this was not the time for unchecked emotion. It was the time to gain answers, to determine where Gerard was and what he intended to do to achieve his aims.

  “And you know I refused to help him.”

  “Yes. And you know that he went to Anche, to trade secrets. Money would have been enough with your backing, but your fear and your need to control everything is likely resulting in exactly what you did not want.”

  Landsdowne looked away, a rare sign of weakness. She had always admired and respected the earl, known that he was a man who understood subtleties. She had never doubted that he would help her when she approached him about the music teacher.

  “You can still help. You can support Gerard, petition for a title. Make it so that he does not have to trade his soul.”

  “Imagine if all of England’s nobility were to seek titles for their by-blows. Beyond that, Gerard was raised in France and Italy. His tutor was a Catholic but his mother was a Jewess.”

  A Jew, like the much admired Fanny von Arnstein in Vienna, or like the Rothschilds who had funded her in Frankfurt. Did they know Gerard?

  “I see you did not know.”

  She shook her head. There was more to the earl’s refusal. “What of it, my lord? You have had far lesser men dine at your table.” Landsdowne’s grudging smile admitted her point. It was not Gerard’s heritage that held him back. “He is taking your secrets to Anche, in any event.”

  Landsdowne sighed. “I am old, Jane. A man has only a certain amount of power. This you know. What I have amassed, the leverage I have, will be spent the moment I support Gerard.”

  As if he were saving for some greater need, some other scheme that furthered his own goals, whether personal or for England, at the expense of his family. “He is still your blood, and he’s served you all of these years out of familial loyalty. I do not think you need be jealous of your power.”

  “Says the woman who demands a title in exchange for her hand. You are not without a choice, Jane. You could elope with my illegitimate grandson who has acted as a spy and mercenary these last twenty years.”

  She was asking him to do what she herself would not—to compromise and risk stepping into the abyss. Gerard was only doing this for her. If Jane would not compromise, then Gerard would compromise a life devoid of shadows. The weight of the last few weeks, of the choice she had resisted again and again, crashed down on her, turning the edges of her vision to black. Her chest ached. If she loved Gerard, then she could not stand by, vacillating stupidly at every turn.

  “I have to go.” She didn’t wait for Landsdowne’s response. She had to find Gerard as quickly as possible, before he traded his life for hers.

  When the carriage pulled to a stop, the door was flung open and Bohm’s furious face met her gaze.

  “I was hired to protect you. You hired me to protect you. How am I supposed to do such a thing if you leave without me? If I don’t know you are safe at home? Gerard tells me his woman is intelligent, a match for him. I do not see this woman! For this I leave my life in Vienna where I am beloved.”

  She didn’t speak as she descended from the carriage, accepting his solid arm even as he raged at her. He was right. She did not know if the matter with Szabo was resolved, or if Gerard’s presence in her life would introduce new dangers. Beyond that, despite her wish to save Gerard from himself, she had forced his hand, propelled him into a situation where he could not escape the darkness of his upbringing.

  She had laughed that night in Germany when he had told her the story of Lord Templeton interfering in Gerard’s work, had called Marcus a fool. But she, so quick to judge, had been no less. Had been much worse, in fact, because she knew very well she loved Gerard, and yet it had taken Landsdowne’s obstinacy to make her own all too clear. Eventually Bohm fell quiet too. They entered the house in silence. In the hall, she didn’t know if she should leave him there or if she should wait. Her maid took her coat and her gloves and then Jane dismissed her.

  And waited.

  “My wife,” Bohm said finally. “Szabo killed her.”

  Jane looked at him. He was looking down at his hands, flexing them and straightening them.

  “He’d had a bet on my opponent. I was the favorite. He wanted me to throw the match. Rather, he took Julia. I’d done some work for him here and there, little jobs, much as Badeau does. That is how I know him. I was good friends in my youth with Francois Badeau.”

  “Did you do it?”

  Bohm’s lips curled and he looked straight at her. “For Julia, anything. And then I went to collect her. She was furious with me. She had never cared that I was half criminal, but she believed in a sportsman’s honor. I told her it was a ridiculous distinction.”

  Jane swallowed hard. She had never told Bohm the details, what Gerard intended to do, why she needed to follow him. Perhaps by now Bohm had gathered that Gerard had believed he needed to kill that man in the warehouse to fulfill his quest.

  “How—” She wet her mouth and tried again. “How did she die?”

  The carriage had stopped but she didn’t rap for the coachman to open. Instead, she waited for Bohm’s answer, for a confession that could not leave this place.

  “Szabo asked me to throw another match, now that he believed me to be his man. I said no, that it did not matter what he threatened, I would not. I came home one day to find that Julia had jumped from the window of our apartment and had broken her neck. Suicide was the official word, but many people saw a man enter our rooms, heard a fight. There was a broken vase and signs of a struggle.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Useless words, but they weren’t just for Bohm. They were for Gerard, for Jane, for that man who by now likely lay dead somewhere.

  He took a deep breath. “If I am not here, you wait for me.”

  She nodded. “Did you find Gerard?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he…”

  “He knew I was following him. Apparently, I am no longer as stealthy as I once was.”

  Jane laughed with him but neither of them was filled with mirth. Bohm had chosen to leave that life behind and he clearly understood just what was at stake for Gerard.

  “He doesn’t know that it doesn’t matter to me,” she said, placing her hand on the door. Then she stopped and looked at Bohm once more. “Do you think Szabo will still come after me? After Gerard?”

  Bohm’s dark eyes were unflinching. “I do not know.”

  She nodded. “I hope…I hope you’ll stay until everything is sorted out. If it is sorted out.” It was entirely possible it would never be, that Jane would never again be able to take her own safety for granted. “You are right. I’ve been reckless and foolish but my world changed when I met Gerard. I…I am no longer confident in my choices and my judgment.”

  He laughed, the sound quiet and bitter, but then nodded.

  Jane took a deep breath. To say her world had changed was such an understatement. It had tilted and crashed and then had been picked back up and placed on the axis inside out and upside down. Everything was unrecognizable. And now the center of that world, she had broken that too.

  Gerard tracked down Vesper by suppertime. He peered into the window of the man’s home and watched the very domestic scene of him trying to make his chubby baby laugh. Vesper was known as Evans these days, worked as a clerk in a textile shop, lived modestly and below notice despite the bank account that proved he had profited well from his life as a smuggler.

  But all signs pointed to Vesper having given his old life up fully, much the way Gerard hoped to. His stomach churned and his chest felt weighted down. Even if Vesper ha
d not given up the work, Gerard had not uncovered any crimes darker than those Anche’s file had claimed. Perhaps an Englishman born and bred might find the charges reason enough but Gerard had no such loyalty to a nation.

  Vesper was likable, which was what had made him beloved and protected by his community, made him inaccessible to the British government. When he had gone to the ground, he had done so wisely, new identity, new look, not a word to his old friends. Yet there were always people who knew, who could sniff out the person who didn’t belong, who was hiding something, people who gathered information while it was still fresh and held it in waiting for the day it might be of use.

  Gerard had made it of use.

  Except— He stared at Vesper’s wife’s young face, her joy as he handed the baby back to her, the kiss they shared over the baby’s head. It was a damn near idyllic scene. Sickening in its sweetness. Except Gerard craved that sweetness.

  He wasn’t judge and jury. It wouldn’t matter even if he had uncovered darker crimes in this man’s past. His own past was not unblemished and perhaps someday the gun would be trained on him. Some man would be sent to assassinate Gerard Badeau, the new Baron Alandale.

  He needed to find another way forward, to convince Jane to be his whether or not he met her demands. Or…he could watch Vesper just a little bit longer, hope that the man did something that made Gerard able to live with Vesper’s blood on his hands. He hated even the thought.

  Movement made him pay attention again. Vesper pulled on his boots and then slipped into his heavy coat. He’d only been trailing the man for less than a day. He’d follow him to wherever Vesper was going and then leave. Move on with his life, whatever it would be.

  It was a long walk through the frigid night, and the wind picked up as they reached the Thames. The waterfront was still full of life, the tavern windows bright, noise and inebriated humans spilling out.

  Down an alley, he followed Vesper, until the other man stopped in the shadows of a heap of garbage. Gerard studied the street. Ahead of them was a warehouse, a wooden structure with one door set inside. A guard kept watch in front of the door.

  Vesper pulled something round and metallic out of his pocket. It looked like a watch. Another man came around the far corner of the alley, stopped by the guard, patted him on the shoulder. The sound of their voices carried but the words were indistinguishable with the wind. However, they were walking away from the warehouse together now, and that was unmistakable.

  Break for supper? Was that guard really so predictable in his routine, and so careless as to leave his post unmanned? As soon as the two men were out of sight, Vesper ran to the door, slid a key into the lock, and slipped inside. Gerard waited a moment before following. The door was locked again, but that was a small matter and less than a minute later Gerard was inside as well, blinking into the darkness as he waited for his eyes to adjust. None of Vesper’s actions thus far were those of an innocent man.

  The sound of flint and metal struck Gerard an instant before he spied the small flame enclosed in a lantern. Gerard bent down, hid behind the large piles of…cloth?

  Did this warehouse belong to the textile merchant for whom he worked? If so, what sort of work did Vesper do here at night? If Gerard were a man who gambled, he would bet that Vesper intended to steal from his employer. Why? Why not simply keep to himself, live a quiet life with his family? Was he impossibly drawn to the thrill of the illicit? Or perhaps there was some other reason.

  Nonetheless, Gerard was going to let Vesper live. Even if he found out that tonight’s actions were part of some grander plan to kill the King of England, it was not for Gerard to stop him. Not anymore. Would Vesper even listen if Gerard warned him? Told him to go home to his wife, give up the game? Would Gerard listen if someone were to say such a thing to him? Jane had. Bohm had. Yet here Gerard was.

  And he was going to make a different choice. But he didn’t move, words pressing against his closed lips. A warning. One thing more he could do for this man.

  “Vesper,” Gerard said, hearing his own voice with a stab of shock.

  Vesper froze in his tracks and looked around wildly. “Who’s there?”

  “People want you dead. If you’ve gone to ground, given up the life, stay that way. Leave the country, even. You can afford to do that. Whatever you are doing here…don’t do it.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Vesper repeated, his voice low and controlled but seething.

  “I’ve warned you. You’re a marked man. If I found you, others can as well.”

  The man was trembling now, looking around him. Gerard followed his gaze, to the iron pipe. Vesper was searching for a weapon, not that such a thing mattered. By the time Vesper reached it, Gerard would be gone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next time he saw her he would claim her as his own.

  Gerard stood outside the Langley townhouse and stared at the fortress. It was easy to scale, to storm, to steal into or to gain access to in any myriad of ways. All but the metaphorical.

  Gerard had never pretended to be an honorable man. Honor among thieves, perhaps, or in his case, assassins. The word still rankled. He had never considered himself such, that work claiming only a small fraction of his deeds, but nonetheless death’s shadow had been large in his life. No longer. He had put it aside that night in Frankfurt. He had promised himself reborn.

  His action tonight was the right one, the one for which even Jane had hoped, and the one that made the social chasm between them much wider. The one that had him standing outside in the dark of night instead of slipping into her bed and…claiming her as his own.

  He ran his hand through his hair. He was so tired, and thoughts jumbled in his head, words and images, sounds and emotions. Gerard had found the work of information collecting and spying to be mentally engaging, but he was no longer the man who was ruled by pure reason. He had started to crack, to need more than endless traveling, more than impersonal rooms and no true sense of self. Then he had met Jane. Needed Jane.

  He couldn’t go to her yet, and he could not claim her. If he stayed away, then there was always a chance something would change, some new opportunity would present itself, or that he would forge a new solution.

  He returned to his rooms and found Thomas awake and sitting in the parlor holding an unopened letter in his hand. The boy looked both guilty and belligerent, and thus the letter must belong to Gerard. He narrowed his eyes. The wide, slanting scrawl looked familiar.

  “I suppose I should be thankful that you do not take the further step of actually opening my letters.”

  Thomas’s cheeks stained red.

  “I saw Giana’s name. That is our sister, is it not? You never told me she writes to you.”

  Gerard took a deep breath and sat down in the chair opposite Thomas. He was exhausted but his brother had as deep a desire for a family as Gerard did. Even a motley one that spanned borders.

  “You will have a chance to meet her very soon,” he said. “I intend to bring her to England.”

  Thomas frowned. “And what about you? Where will you be?”

  “In England as well.” As long as the next interview with Anche went well. He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “So you are staying? Because you are getting married? And Giana and I…we are to live with you and your new wife, who likes to climb buildings and sneak into men’s bedrooms.”

  His new wife. The word pained him because for the first time he was aware that he might not achieve his aim. Short of abducting Jane, he could not force her to choose him.

  “I have a brother who runs away from his school and a sister of an age to marry. I think those are excellent reasons to settle down for a while.”

  Thomas was quiet.

  “Hopefully Jane will not mind the burden of two siblings,” Gerard said into the silence, even though that burden was the least of his worries.

  “Why are you doing this?” Thomas said. “You owe me nothing.”

&nb
sp; Why? The great question. And the answer? An amorphous desire for something more, something meaningful, something beyond the days and nights that were all the same, that held nothing of lasting value. No one would remember Gerard when he was gone.

  But he had a family of sorts. And…somehow, he would still have Jane.

  The next morning the sun was wincingly bright and Horse Guards was bustling and noisy. The contrast to the storm within Gerard made the dull ache in his head throb. He needed all of his wits about him as he was about to break a contract for the first time, one with far greater stakes than ever before.

  Inside the sparsely decorated office Anche greeted him almost jovially, standing up and coming around from behind his desk to take Gerard by the hands.

  “Good morning, Mr. Badeau. I hardly expected the deed to be accomplished so soon but I was pleasantly surprised by your request for an interview. Now I truly understand Lord Landsdowne’s ability to know so much. Perhaps you will rethink working for me.”

  “I did indeed find Vesper,” Gerard said.

  Anche’s smile faded. “Your demeanor is rather cool for one about to become the new Baron Alandale.”

  “I let the man live. If you wish his death, you will need to find someone else to do the job, but I feel comfortable saying he is no longer a threat to the government.”

  “So you believe yourself capable of assessing who and what is a threat to England?” Anche said harshly. “Rather arrogant of you.”

  Gerard shrugged. Whatever Anche wished to call it, Gerard’s assessment remained the same.

  “I could have you arrested.”

  Gerard’s jaw clenched. It was a bluff on Anche’s part, but that did not mean Anche was not a danger to him. “You have no reason to.”

  “Easy enough to create one, Mr. Badeau. You should have thought of that when you agreed to a bargain you did not intend to keep. You are now a liability to the British government.”

  Gerard had known this risk, but if he intended to stay in England, he needed to settle this matter with Anche now.

  “I do not wish to be an assassin, not even one sanctioned by you and King George. The secrets I offer you are more than enough in trade for what I want.”