His Wicked Secret

by Lauren Smith

“What…? What happened? The soldiers?”

  “Most ran off,” said Godric. “I believe they had been drinking heavily, and our charge made our numbers seem far greater than they actually were. We have a little time before they gather their wits and regroup. Can you move?”

  Jonathan sat upright. “I believe so.”

  “And what the devil are you wearing?”

  Jonathan smiled. “This damn disguise didn’t do me any favors.”

  “Disguise? You look like you escaped one of the old armoires from the attic and the wardrobe attacked you as you left.”

  He plucked at the mud-soaked lace. He wondered how ladies ever kept their gowns clean.

  Charles and Ashton were a few yards away, tending to Avery. Cedric seemed to be searching for someone. But who?

  “Good. Then perhaps you can settle a debate as to how you ended up in a dress?”

  “Well, the soldiers were coming and…” Jonathan shot to his feet. “Audrey…? Audrey!”

  He heard her call from the rock outcrop. “Over here. Is it safe to come out?”

  Jonathan hobbled over and found Audrey behind it, leaning against a boulder, smiling, despite her pale face.

  “My God, woman. I thought I’d lost you.”

  “You didn’t. I’m right where you left me.” She eyed his terrible gown. “Puce and lace really don’t do your coloring justice. But I bet you’d look smashing in green.”

  He hugged her tenderly, chuckling at her ability to tease him at a time like this.

  “Ahhh!” Her cry of pain made him release her. Terror gripped him as he studied her pain-filled eyes.

  “Your wound…” he started.

  “Audrey?” Cedric hurried over, gripping Audrey’s face gently, kissing her forehead. “You’re all right! Thank God you’re all right.”

  Audrey winced as she chuckled. “I could be better, I suppose.” Cedric let go of her, and she looked around at the men gathering around her. “You’re…all so sweet. I…” She took a few shaky steps and then collapsed.

  “Audrey!” Jonathan screamed.

  “She’s wounded.” Cedric cradled her, his palm coated with blood as he touched her side. “What happened?”

  Jonathan lifted her up. “She was shot when she killed the captain. We have to get back to town.”

  “We shouldn’t move her,” Cedric argued, eyes wide with fear.

  “It’s not safe here,” said Godric. “Drunk or not, those soldiers will soon return.”

  Ashton spoke up. “I have a surgeon aboard my ship. If anyone can save her, he can.”

  Cedric insisted on taking her. Jonathan carried Audrey in his arms and waited for her brother to mount his horse. Once he had, Jonathan passed Audrey up to him, and he took off. Jonathan quickly stripped off his dress, reduced to the light trousers and shirt he wore underneath, and mounted one of the spare horses the League had brought. The others followed as fast as they could.

  It took nearly a quarter of an hour to return to Calais and board their ship. Ashton ordered the captain to sail immediately and kept a watchful eye for any trouble from the port. If the gendarmes sounded the alarm, the French naval ships in the port could still attack them.

  Jonathan went below to find the ship’s surgeon, a gray-haired man named Lewis. Audrey was already there, lying flat cot in the infirmary. Her white shirt had been ripped open. Cedric couldn’t watch while the doctor finished his examination.

  “She was shot?” Dr. Lewis asked.

  “Yes. By a pistol, close range,” Jonathan added.

  The doctor bent over, carefully raising her chemise to just underneath her breasts and examined the wound. Blood oozed in a deep gash along her stomach, and he probed it carefully. Then he felt under her back and grimaced.

  “It appears to be a graze.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” asked Jonathan.

  “Don’t confuse a graze with a scratch,” the doctor warned. “I mean that the wound does not seem to have hit any organs, and the bullet did not embed itself in her, but the cut is still deep. She has lost some blood.”

  “Will she live?” asked Cedric.”

  “Once I clean the wound and stitch it back up, she may recover. I suggest you both wait outside.”

  Godric and Jonathan shared a look. “We’re staying.”

  “I was being polite,” the doctor growled. “Outside, both of you. I need peace and space to work.”

  Jonathan gave Audrey’s limp hand a final squeeze before the pair exited the infirmary. Cedric leaned against the wall, but after a moment he slid down and covered his face with his hands. Jonathan stared at the wooden wall across from him, unseeing. He felt numb, numb from pain, numb from fear. Numb from the knowledge that he could lose the only woman he had ever dared to love.

  “This is my fault,” Cedric said. Jonathan was shocked to see tears staining his face.

  “It isn’t your fault,” Jonathan said. “It’s mine. Avery and I tried to get her to safety, but she came after us. I should have known she wouldn’t listen to me.”

  Cedric shook his head. “I never should’ve scared off those men who came to court her. I drove her to her rebellious nature. If I hadn’t interfered, she might be happily married to some quiet, kind fellow, making plans for motherhood and attending balls.”

  Jonathan didn’t want to picture that, at least not her with another man, but if it meant she would be alive and safe, he would’ve given anything to reverse time and give her that quiet, happy life.

  But he knew Audrey. She wasn’t destined for a quiet life. She was a woman who wanted to fight, to earn her place in life, and to make a difference. He realized now how foolish he’d been in his own idealized visions of their married life together. Audrey would never settle for a quiet, uneventful life. She was a fighter, a petite Amazon. That would never change.

  And he realized, despite nearly dying at the hands of those French soldiers, that he wanted to be beside her every moment on every adventure. He’d always had a wild side, but ever since he’d become a gentleman he’d done his best to repress it, thinking foolishly that Audrey needed a man who was settled to calm her down. What she truly needed was a man who would be with her on each grand step forward in her life, not holding her back.

  “Audrey would never marry a quiet, sensible man,” Jonathan said. He rested his elbows on his bent knees and let his head fall back against the door.

  “I suppose you’re right. From the day she was born, I knew she was meant for greater things. She wasn’t like me or Horatia. She had stars in her eyes and dreams so big they didn’t seem possible.” A wry smile curled Cedric’s lips. “I should have known she was serious about this spy business.”

  “I knew she was serious, but I never thought she would leave, not after…”

  “After what?” Cedric asked.

  Jonathan blew out a breath and summoned the courage. He was going to marry Audrey if she survived this, and damn anyone who got in his way.

  “After she accepted my marriage proposal.” He waited, wondering if Cedric would erupt with fury. For months, everyone in the League had told him that Cedric approved of the match, but Cedric’s overprotectiveness and impossible standards when it came to his sisters’ happiness were legendary.

  “You finally asked her?” Cedric snorted. “About bloody time.”

  “You’re not upset? I was worried after you and Lucien…”

  “You aren’t Lucien. You don’t have the history with women that he does. And Audrey is not like Horatia. Horatia has a sweet heart and a tough exterior. She needed my protection, even though she didn’t know it. I had to make sure the man who won her heart was worthy of it.” He paused, his brown eyes steady as he looked at Jonathan. “But I never worried about Audrey. Yes, she shall always be my sweet kitten, but inside, she is made of steel. She never needed my protection. Whatever man she chose for herself, he would be the right man. And…I suppose I just didn’t want her to grow up too fast.” His lips twitched. “But her i
nstincts were true. The moment she chose you, whatever small worries I had about her future, I let go because I know you are the one for her.”

  “I must admit, I never felt worthy of her,” Jonathan confessed.

  “Nor should you,” Cedric said, allowing himself a small grin. “But does any man when it comes to the woman he loves? I’ll never be worthy of Anne or the ground she walks upon. We are but mortal men who dare to love goddesses.”

  Jonathan smiled and thought of Audrey being a goddess. She would no doubt have agreed.

  “You’re the right man, Jon. Trust your heart and you will see.”

  They fell into a still silence, the kind that comes after a violent storm, as though he knew that he was now facing the darkest hour of his life. And if he survived, if she survived, nothing else would ever be as terrible as this.

  One by one, the remaining members of the League came down and sat upon the floor beside them. Godric, Lucien, Ashton, Avery, and Charles all kept vigil as they waited and prayed and hoped.

  Godric sat shoulder to shoulder with his brother and laid a hand on Jonathan’s knee in a brotherly show of support.

  “How did this happen?” Cedric asked quietly. All eyes turned to Avery.

  “We were betrayed. The man we were supposed to be working with, Daniel Sheffield, was seen leaving the gendarmes before they began to muster.”

  “But why?” Jonathan asked.

  “I can only assume he was under orders,” said Avery. “I have worked with Sheffield before. The man is a professional, and as far as I know he holds no ill will toward me. I also fear I was not the intended target.”

  “Audrey…” Cedric growled. “But why? She was just a child playing at an adult’s game.”

  “She was assigned because it was believed she would be good at acquiring information within the French court. Many aristocrats would have opened up to her because of her looks, charm, and fashion. And she is quite cunning at the art of conversation.”

  Ashton stroked his chin. “I know you cannot share much of your business with us, Avery, but if Sheffield holds you and Audrey no ill will, then whoever gave him his orders must. Who does Sheffield answer to?”

  Avery was silent for a long moment.

  “Come now,” said Godric. “This could be a matter of life and death.”

  Avery sighed. “Sheffield reports to Sir Hugo Waverly.”

  “No,” Charles whispered. Every man turned to him. His face became ashen as he lifted his head, his gaze leaving the floor. “He’s involved with the Foreign Office? That’s not possible.”

  “All too possible,” Godric said.

  “He’s the man who runs the Foreign Office,” Avery said. “There’s a public face, a man people know out in society to deal with matters of diplomacy. But Hugo is in charge of the agents in the field.”

  “We knew he was back,” Ashton reminded everyone. “And he’s made his intentions toward us clear.”

  “What do you mean, back?” asked Avery.

  “One of my sources told me some time ago that Hugo had returned from France,” said Ashton. “Back when Godric and Emily were married.”

  “To the best of my knowledge, Hugo hasn’t left England in years,” said Avery. “He’s far too busy to be far from his office for long.”

  Godric frowned. “So all that time we thought he was overseas, he was right under our noses in London?”

  “Plotting,” said Ashton. “Watching. Waiting. No doubt my source was fed the information of Hugo’s return to act as some kind of declaration. His way of letting us know he was coming for us.”

  “All of the signs were there,” said Cedric. “It’s time we end this. There is no other way. Hugo must be stopped once and for all.”

  “Good God,” Lucien muttered. “How the devil does one fight a spymaster?”

  “The only way we can,” said Ashton. “We must play the game better than he does.” Jonathan could see the chess pieces moving about on Ashton’s mental board. The League of Rogues and Waverly were about to play the most deadly game the world had ever seen. But that was tomorrow’s concern. Once they returned home, they would find a way to stop Waverly. But for Jonathan, right now, Hugo was the most distant thing from his mind.

  Be strong for me, my heart. He set the silent thought free upon the air, hoping that Audrey would somehow hear it. If there was anyone in the world who was stubborn enough to stay alive, it was his little sprite.

  Please, my love, come back to me.

  23

  Pain. Audrey couldn’t seem to focus on anything else. Images flickered through her mind, fragments of memories, and she struggled to catch the pieces. A ship sailing to France, a quiet inn, soldiers, an explosion, a moonlit cliff, a drawn knife, a shot in the dark…and then pain. So much pain.

  And then something else. Something greater.

  “Please, my love, come back to me.”

  That voice.

  It was as though she was trapped in a place between breaths, a world of memories and sensations.

  Flashing green eyes, soft curved lips, a soft chuckle intended only for her.

  Air filled her lungs in a gasp.

  The glimmer of light upon water, the splash of fish in the pond, the rocking of a boat. Another deep kiss to satisfy centuries of longing.

  A slow breath escaped her lips.

  “I love you.”

  Those words were forever carved into her heart. They could never be unsaid. But now she was suddenly too afraid to face the man she’d said them to.

  “Her breathing has evened out.” A different voice spoke somewhere above her, and her muscles tensed. And then…

  “She squeezed my hand.” Jonathan. With the name came all the memories of what had happened. The men, the soldiers, attacking from the shadows to save the man she loved, collapsing from pain, and being swallowed up by darkness.

  “It could be muscle spasms. It’s best not to get your hopes up.” The other voice spoke again.

  She prickled at his tone, wanting to tell the man she was fine.

  But I’m not. Everything hurts, and I can’t seem to open my eyes.

  “We’re almost home, Audrey. The winds of the Channel were fair, just as I promised.”

  Jonathan’s voice was close, and the press of his lips to her forehead sent a shiver of relief through her. He was safe. She had protected him, just as he had protected her. The way that she hoped they would always protect each other.

  She slipped away again, her mind drifting as her body succumbed to exhaustion.

  When she next woke, her eyelids flickered, and she noticed the world had become still. There was no more rocking. It took a long while to find the strength to open her eyes fully. When she did, she realized she was in her bed at Cedric’s townhouse with Jonathan in bed beside her, though he lay atop the covers, fully clothed.

  Had it all been a strange and terrifying dream? Had she even gone to France? A terrible pain throbbed in her side, and a moan escaped her. The pain reminded her it most certainly hadn’t been a dream.

  Jonathan was asleep on the bed, both of his hands holding on to one of hers. Lines of worry were etched on his face, even in sleep, as if his concern had followed him even into his dreams. She wished she could wipe them away.

  She suddenly felt foolish for ever having left him. She had put so much weight on proving herself and making a difference that she forgot there were more than enough battles to fight at home in London. The rights of women, for one. She would turn her eye to those issues and leave the spycraft to others.

  Well, except perhaps when absolutely necessary.

  She lay there for several long minutes, studying Jonathan’s face, down to the faint hint of freckles on his nose and cheeks gained from the hours he spent working in the gardens at the Essex estate. He had worked so hard in life and only now was having a chance to enjoy it. And she’d almost gotten him killed. She vowed right then not to cause him any more trouble.

  No serious trouble, at any rat
e.

  At least, nothing Jonathan couldn’t handle.

  She didn’t want his life to get boring, after all.

  She whispered his name and had the pleasure of seeing him wake up, to see how his eyes shone like twin jade pools in relief. They had told one another that they loved each other back at the inn; she hadn’t forgotten that. But would anything be different between them now after their confessions?

  His face shone with a love that filled her with joy. “Thank God. I was so worried you would never wake.”

  She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Yet here I am.” She felt giddy and a little nervous.

  A tentative smile formed on his lips. “That you are. How do you feel?”

  “Utterly wretched and wonderful at the same time.”

  Jonathan laughed. “The wretched part is a good sign. Dr. Lewis warned that if you felt no pain that we would likely lose you. But pain is a good thing. It means your body is fighting to stay alive.”

  “Well, you did say I am a fighter.” She tilted her head, batting her lashes in a way she knew favored her eyes.

  “You’d better stop that,” Jonathan warned. “I want to kiss you bad enough as it is, and I can’t. You’ve had a serious wound.”

  She pouted. “It was only a gunshot. A few kisses wouldn’t hurt.”

  Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Only a gunshot? Listen to me, woman, you will be still and focus on getting better, because we have a wedding to plan.”

  They were the words she had longed to hear. Her eyes began to mist. “A wedding?”

  “Yes. Unless I have completely misinterpreted everything that has passed between us, you love me as much as I love you, and you had every intention of saying yes to my proposal when you returned from France. Well, you have returned from France, have you not? If I am mistaken in anything I have just said, you’d best tell me now before it’s too late.” There was an earnestness in his tone that made it clear he was afraid she’d try to take the words back.

  She tried to keep from laughing. “You’re sure you’re ready to be leg-shackled to a woman like me?”

  “I don’t think you could be shackled to anyone or anything, Audrey. That’s what I love about you.” And then he very gently kissed her, so softly that it felt like the most wonderful dream. When their lips finally parted, she stroked his chin.