His Wicked Secret

by Lauren Smith

  “Yes, monsieur.” The boy’s eyes were full of honor as he replied.

  “Good. I’ll be in the rooms upstairs, the first door on the right.” He pressed the coins into the lad’s palm and watched him scamper off.

  Avery watched the lad disappear into the growing gloom. His skin prickled, and a flutter of nerves stormed his belly. During his years of service he had honed his instincts well, and right now his instincts were telling him he was being played. The question was by whom, and to what end?

  He was not about to trust Daniel. Anyone who had such stiff loyalty to Hugo Waverly, yet was possibly being intimate with the wife of one of the deadliest men in England, was not someone to be trusted. It made no sense for Daniel to betray him, but there were many things, and many missions, that made little sense in his world.

  He did know this much: men like Hugo saw spycraft as a game and men like him as pieces to be played. The question now was whether he was a capital piece or a pawn.

  I refuse to let anyone catch me with my guard down. It’s not just my own life at stake, but Audrey’s as well.

  He slipped back inside the little inn, studying the men and women having dinner in the taproom. Nothing seemed amiss here, but he wouldn’t ignore the warning in his bones. Danger was on the horizon, of that much he was certain.

  21

  Daniel had waited long enough. He had purchased a horse and arrived here as discreetly as he could. He entered the barracks of the local gendarmes, assuming one of his many French aliases, Victor Dubois.

  After they’d reached the inn, he’d destroyed his English papers, the ones that tied him to Audrey as a man called Mr. Edward Brownley. From now on he was Victor, a man with a long-established reputation in the northern coast of France whom he would use to continue with the mission. But first he had to convince these soldiers that there were two English spies right under their noses. While the gendarmes would deal with Avery and Audrey, he would be on his way to Paris.

  The move was callous, but not without purpose. While the gendarmes were focused on their prize, Daniel was all but assured of reaching the reformists unimpeded. In addition, when word of their capture reached Hugo’s diplomatic assets in Paris, they would enact a bureaucratic nightmare within the courts, resulting in as much confusion and finger pointing as possible between various factions. It was believed that this climate would cause the reformists to act hastily, make mistakes, and reveal too much to someone like him in their rush to take advantage of the political chaos.

  He did not like it. Avery was a skilled and cunning man. Using him this way was a waste of talent. And Audrey… There was a woman who only wished to serve her country, yet she was being used as nothing more than a distraction. Sacrifice was sometimes necessary, it was true, but this lacked honor or decency. Still, he would obey.

  There were a dozen men talking and playing cards. They appeared to be on break from patrol. He addressed the officer who had the most polished appearance and the highest-ranking uniform. “Monsieur, are you the captain?”

  The man stood and faced him. “I am. What can I do for you?” the captain asked.

  Daniel steeled himself for what he had to do next. For the first time in his life, he and his master did not see eye to eye.

  “My name is Victor Dubois. I was at the port when a ship came in. I believe there are English spies in Calais. I thought you would wish to know.”

  The room, once full of boisterous men enjoying wine and cards, was suddenly deathly quiet.

  “Spies?” The captain repeated the word softly.

  “Yes.” Daniel watched the captain reach for his sword, which lay on the table he’d been sitting at when Daniel came in.

  “Just how do you know they are here?”

  “I saw them arrive on an English ship.”

  “And that happens frequently, no? Calais is a trade port. Many English come to visit.” The captain’s shrewd eyes fixed on Daniel. One of his subordinates spoke up.

  “Are you the Victor Dubois who frequents Boulogne-sur-Mer?”

  Daniel almost smiled. He’d hoped his reputation would be recognized. “The same. Have we met?”

  The soldier turned to his commander. “Sir, I’ve heard of Mr. Dubois. Before I was transferred here, he provided the guards in Boulogne-sur-Mer with accurate information on smugglers. I would hear him out.”

  Daniel fidgeted, but in a way that conveyed excitement. He was the giddy humble citizen who was about to save his country, no doubt hoping there’d be a free drink in it for him.

  “Very well,” said the captain. “Who are these people? And do you have any proof to back up your claims?”

  “There is a man and a woman. I overheard them speaking strange things. Not tourist talk, you see? I wanted to be sure, so I stole these from the man’s valise.” Daniel held a pair of letters, forged of course, written in English, but he’d kept the language simple enough for a French gendarme to understand. The captain took the letters and read them. The key here was not to outright confess their intentions, but to be incredibly suspicious in nature.

  “Mon Dieu,” the captain muttered. As Daniel expected, the captain had the ability to read most of the English in the letters. “What did you hear them speak of?”

  “Of revolutionaries and meeting in Paris. It was how they said it, you see?”

  The captain nodded his understanding. Then he put the letters into his coat pocket.

  “Men, ready your weapons. We must investigate this at once.” He turned back to Daniel. “Where can we find them?”

  “At an inn called the White Lily on the edge of town.”

  “I know the one.” He waved to the soldiers. “Sargent Bisset, round up any stragglers and have them in formation at once. Prepare to march.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Bisset, the tall, serious-looking man who had vouched for him, nodded and headed for the sleeping quarters, calling the soldiers to get moving. Daniel watched them muster, frowning as they startled a little boy who was begging for coins, sending the lad fleeing down the street with their jeers chasing him.

  Daniel watched them march off. He buried the guilt of his betrayal deep, along with a hundred other regrets, and then mounted his horse.

  I did my best to warn you, Russell. Whatever happens this night is out of my hands.

  Daniel dug his heels into the flanks of the horse. He would ride all night to put as much distance between him and Calais as he could. He couldn’t wash the blood of the innocent and brave Miss Sheridan off his hands, but at least he wouldn’t hear her screams when the soldiers captured her.

  God help her. God help them both.

  Jonathan slipped inside the taproom of the little French inn and glanced about. There were several people still dining, and he took a table by the fire. Close by, he noticed a couple gazing longingly into each other’s eyes. A rather tall woman and a very short man. Jonathan tried to hide his smile from them, because they might mistake it for mockery. In truth, he found their open affection charming. He’d never been one to appreciate the intimacy couples displayed before, either subtle or overt, but now that he and Audrey were so close to having their own happiness, he was delighted at seeing others with the same fortune.

  He waved a hand at a maid who was patrolling the tables, checking to see if anyone needed anything. Her fatigued face brightened as she approached.

  “What can I get you, monsieur?” the maid asked him in French. He was never more grateful in that moment for sleeping with his brother’s former mistress. Evangeline had helped him learn the language during their liaisons, enough to get by in a tavern at any rate.

  “Food and wine, mademoiselle.” He smiled at her, and she blushed as she rushed off to find him something for a meal. As long as he stuck to simple sentences, he should do all right.

  What are you up to, Audrey? he wondered.

  He thanked the maid when she set a plate of cheese, figs, and a glass of red wine before him. Eating quickly, he kept his eyes on the men in the roo
m, but none seemed interested in him, or a threat.

  I’m being foolish to worry so much. But then again, it was Audrey. That woman had the ability to attract trouble like no one else.

  Jonathan watched with amusement as a young boy burst into the inn, glancing about before he dashed upstairs. He acted with the haste of any such youth, as if the world itself depended on his actions. He finished his meal without thinking much of it.

  Seconds later the boy dashed back down the stairs, and a man followed him. A man Jonathan recognized.

  Avery.

  He followed the boy to the door of the inn, which he opened just a crack and peered out through before he cursed. Jonathan stood, but Avery didn’t notice him at first, as his back was now to him.

  “Here, lad, take these and get as far away from here as you can,” Avery whispered to the boy, giving him a handful of coins before pushing him out the door.

  “Jon, we have a problem.” Avery suddenly spoke, making Jonathan tense. Damn, had the man known he was there all along?

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, joining Avery at the door.

  “I suppose you’re here because you followed Audrey? She’s upstairs.”

  “Yes. Now, what’s wrong?” he asked more quietly.

  “We’ve been betrayed. The man we came with on this…fool’s errand was just seen leaving the gendarmes’ barracks. He told them about two spies, a man and a woman. They’ll be here soon.”

  “What’s the plan?” Jonathan asked.

  “We need to get everyone out of this inn. Now.”

  “What about Audrey?”

  “She’s upstairs, but this isn’t the time.” Avery cursed violently and slammed his hand on the door frame, drawing the attention of the men and women around them.

  “What can we do? Shouldn’t we leave now, all three of us?”

  “There isn’t time. By now the soldiers will be casting a wide net and closing in on this location. They’ll tear apart Calais looking for us, and we have no transport. But perhaps we can buy Audrey some time. She may be able to escape if we stall the soldiers after they arrive.” Avery’s gaze darted around the taproom of the inn, searching for a way out, or perhaps weapons. Jonathan wished he knew what to do. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

  We’ve come too far, fought too hard to be together, and now this?

  “But shouldn’t we find a way for all of us—”

  “It won’t work.” Avery cut him off. “Trust me. There’s only one way this ends.”

  A shiver of dread rippled through Jonathan.

  “Go upstairs and tell her to put on her breeches. Make herself look like a boy. I’ll get these people out of the inn. There’s a window you both can climb out of. You might get free and go unnoticed if I keep the soldiers focused on the front door. I can barricade the doors and windows to give you time.” The grim look in Avery’s eyes cut Jonathan’s heart as he understood what the other man was saying.

  “I’ll tell her how to get out and say my goodbyes. You said they were looking for two spies. We’ll need to give them two.” He shared a look with Avery and gave him a nod. Avery would not be dying alone today. If there was one thing Jonathan had learned from the League, you never left a man behind.

  “Go!” Avery hissed, then turned to the people at the tables still eating their dinner. He spoke to them quickly in French, and they all began to get up from their tables and leave, some heading for the back door through the kitchens of the taproom.

  Jonathan rushed up the stairs, his mind focused only on the one thing that mattered to him. Audrey.

  He found her at the end of the hall, her hands in white-knuckled fists, as though she expected to fight whoever approached.

  My hellion, my heart’s desire, my only true dream.

  “Jonathan?” She gasped his name, and before he could say anything she had thrown herself into his arms. He caught her, holding her close, knowing he would never feel this again, would never touch or kiss her or feel the heat of her body against his. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. His lips said in kisses what his mouth could not say with words.

  I love you…love you more than my last breath.

  “Audrey,” he whispered as they broke apart.

  “What are you doing here? I was worried when Avery spoke to that boy. He said something about soldiers, and I”

  “Avery is downstairs, clearing everyone out. Gendarmes are on their way. You were betrayed. We are going to barricade the door and slow down the soldiers. It will buy you time.”

  She clutched him, her eyes wide. “Time for what?” She knew what he was trying to tell her, but she didn’t want to admit it. But he couldn’t let her cling to the illusion that they would all survive this.

  “We’re buying time for you to escape. Avery said you had your breeches with you. Put them on, hide your hair under a hat, and climb out the window once the soldiers are focused on us. Blend into the crowd. You can still get away.”

  “The window…but…”

  “You can do this, I know you can.” Jonathan gripped her shoulders. “If there was ever a woman I believed in, it is you.”

  “But it won’t work! The boy told Avery they were looking for a man and a woman. I should stay with you.”

  “I won’t have you throw your life away!” he growled. “Not when—” Inspiration struck. He knew how to give the soldiers a woman; it just wouldn’t be Audrey. “I have an idea for that, but first I have to get you out.”

  She bit her bottom lip, tears welling in her eyes. “But if I leave you…” The last word barely came out as she choked down a sob. He struggled to calm himself before he spoke again.

  “Most likely,” he said, admitting her unspoken fear. “But I’m willing to die for you. I have always been willing to die for you.” He was filled with a sudden sense of clarity, and he wished he had more time to tell her everything that lay in his heart. “I know you think I never cared, that I never wanted you. But believe me now. I have wanted you more than anything else in this life and the next.” He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheeks, wiping the tears away.

  “Then why didn’t you ever tell me?” she demanded, her words hoarse.

  “Because I never believed in myself. I never believed I deserved you. You were a brilliant shining light in the darkness, and I was a mere shadow. A former servant, a man with a clouded background, no title, no grand estate…”

  She hauled back her fist and punched his shoulder. “That never mattered to me, you big oaf! Never!” She buried her face against his chest. “You stupid, foolish…wonderful man.”

  He rubbed her back, his body fighting between fear, love, despair, and devotion for this woman. He wouldn’t say goodbye. That word would extinguish the last flicker of hope inside him, and he couldn’t afford to lose that.

  He cupped her cheek and tried to keep his body from shaking. “Go now, while there’s still time. Hide at the port near the docks. Godric and the others are coming, but they won’t make it in time for me. Even if they did, they couldn’t stop the accusations of espionage. Make them take you home where you’re safe. Don’t let them die trying to save me. Promise me that.”

  He saw the defiance in her lovely brown eyes, but she finally nodded.

  “If I had tomorrow to be with you, if I had a thousand tomorrows, I would tell you then that I love you, even if you might never love me the same way.” He could barely swallow past the lump that had formed in his throat.

  He turned away from her but paused when she replied.

  “Then I would tell you today…how could I not love a man like you?” There was something in the way she said it, a promise that he didn’t yet understand. But there was no more time, no more chances to fix what lay between them. They were at the end of their journey.

  He rushed back down the hall, not looking back, carrying the memory of her kiss and her words in her heart. It would be his only comfort in these final moments.

  He began to open ev
ery door until he found the one he hoped to find. The one where the very tall woman had been staying with her husband. A long puce-colored dress with frilly lace hung over the edge of a changing screen. He stripped out of his overcoat and grabbed the dress, dragging it over his body. He did up the buttons, but it was bloody tight over his clothes.

  “The things I do for love,” he muttered darkly. He was going to face a group of French soldiers dressed like a damned woman. If Godric and the others saw him like this… But if it saved Audrey, then it was worth it. He rushed back down the stairs to find the taproom empty. The mustering of men outside heralded the arrival of the gendarmes.

  Avery had shoved the tables against the doors and windows, turning them on end to prevent anyone smashing the windows. He was moving another table against the first, hoping it would hold it closed. No sooner had it been put in place than the doors suddenly shook. A cacophony of French shouts to surrender and orders for men to surround the building filled Jonathan with terror. For a moment despair choked him.

  Avery stared at him, blinking owlishly. “What the devil are you wearing?”

  He suddenly remembered how he was dressed. “You said they were expecting a woman. Well, now they have one.”

  “Not to complain, but that is a very ugly dress. The modiste must have been drunk when she made that.”

  “Very deep in her cups indeed. I’m sure it’s the height of fashion, but I fear I might drown in all this lace.” He plucked at the skirts in disgust.

  Avery chuckled. “Better to drown in lace than be hung by the French, I should think.” Avery’s gallows humor made Jon laugh.

  The shouting outside continued, and Jonathan rushed over to help Avery brace the doors as they suddenly shuddered with a greater force. The heavy rhythmic pounding from outside sounded like some sort of battering ram.