As she drew a deep breath, she shuddered. There was an intensity in the air around them that prickled her skin. She took a step out of his arms. “You mentioned your parents. I know your father has passed, since you are duke. What about your mother, are you close with her?”
“Sadly, Mother did not survive the year after Father died.” His solemn reply spoke of a man who’d admired his parents.
“I’m very sorry. Was theirs a love match then?” It was so strange to hear of dukes being deeply in love with their wives. Most married to have children and increase their standing either financially or politically. They kept love at arm’s length. The majority took mistresses as well. Her stomach heaved and she fought down the disgust.
Nick reached out and took her hand. “They loved each other, but the marriage was arranged. They were married quite young and had known each other as children. My sister, Countess of Dunworth, is older by three years. She tells me they were always touching and kissing even when she was small.”
“It sounds quite magical to have a love so true that your mother could not go on without him. I’m sure you miss them a great deal.” She let him lead her forward until they were only an inch apart.
He kissed her fingers. “I do miss them. Mother and I were particularly close. For a while I was angry with her for leaving, but I’ve come to understand that my father provided her zest for life. Without him, she withered.”
Faith’s heart broke for the couple who had created Nick and loved so truly. She brushed a tear away. “Would you like more wine?”
A cold wind blew through the hothouse, indicating the door had been opened. Faith had told the meager staff that they were not to be disturbed, so something must be wrong. “Thea? What is it?”
A man with a round face, ruddy cheeks, and an odd accent stepped around the large potted orange trees into view. “I’m afraid it isn’t your cook, my lady. She and the other two are safely locked in the cellar.”
Nick’s grip tightened and he tugged her behind him. “Charles, what on earth are you doing here?”
Another man, tall and good-looking with sharp features and cruel eyes, stepped from behind the trees. This man sounded well educated but distinctly French. “We are here to settle a debt, old friend.”
“Joseph, this is a surprise.” Nick’s voice could cut glass.
Faith gripped his arm and his muscles were tense as a bow pulled back and ready to fly. They might be playing the part of friend for the moment, but these were dangerous men. “I did not know we were to have company. May I offer you gentlemen some wine?”
A third man, dressed in the English style and with an elaborately tied cravat, joined them. He had a scar above his left eye and the blacks of his eyes nearly disappeared, leaving only the palest blue. He and the man Nick called Joseph were tall and lean. “I’m afraid that is not what we came for, Miss Landon. You may not know this, but you have aligned yourself with a fiend.”
All three appeared smug, and the rigidity in Nick’s stance screamed warnings of danger. Unsure how to continue, Faith kept to what she knew. In three years at Miss Agatha Wormbattle’s school she had learned to act a lady and keep her true thoughts to herself. One could plot and plan without anyone knowing. “I’m sure you’re mistaken. This is the Duke of Breckenridge.”
“Yes, so I’ve heard. Yet I knew him as Count d’Armon and I’m sure there were other names as well,” the third and most frightening man said. His French accent rang with disgust.
Nick sneered, then stepped fully in front of Faith, blocking her from the view of the others. “And how many names have each of you gone by, Jean-Claude? I can think of at least three for Charles alone.”
The higher voice of Charles rang out. “We trusted you, Nicholas. You were my friend and you betrayed us. Surely you didn’t think we would let you walk away and return to your elaborate life.”
“I did what I had to do for my country. It is no different than what you each have done.” Nick tried a more reasonable voice.
Jean-Claude pulled a pistol from inside his gold-trimmed coat. “I’m sure you believe that, my friend. However, you cannot betray us and get away with it. The emperor might forgive you as it is wartime, but I never shall.”
Reaching behind him, Nick pulled her close to his back. “What do you want then, an apology?”
Jean-Claude’s laugh sent needles prickling at the back of Faith’s neck.
“No, Your Grace,” Jean-Claude said, his voice sweet and sultry. “We demand blood.”
Chapter 7
Nick knew one day his past would come back to haunt him, but he never imagined it would be so soon, and he certainly never intended to put anyone else at risk.
The war still raged on the Continent, yet here were three of Napoleon’s best spies, in England for the purpose of taking him to task. It was madness. Nick searched for some way to get Faith and the servants out of this mess, but with all three adversaries armed as they pushed him and Faith down hallways to the cellar, he could see no immediate escape.
His best option for reasoning was Charles, but he’d have to wait for the right opportunity.
One lamp lit the dusty cellar where Geb stored his wine. In the corner Jane, Thea, and Jamie huddled together on the floor. Jane stood when Nick and Faith were pushed through the heavy oak door, while Thea and Jamie remained shaken, with their arms wrapped around each other.
Faith rushed into Jane’s arms. “Did they hurt you?”
“No, my lady. They were less than polite, but they did not harm any of us.” Jane’s eyes were filled with worry.
Kneeling in front of the two youngsters, Faith cupped each of their cheeks. “It’s going to be all right. Soon those men will get hungry and they will take all three of you to the kitchens. You will keep your heads down and cook for them. No one need be heroic. Just do as you’re told until His Grace finds us a way out of this.”
Nick hoped she wasn’t putting more faith in him than he deserved. “Good advice and you’re right. They will need to eat. They’ve also locked us in with the wine supply, which means by dark, Charles will be down here looking for drink.”
The cellar was not as large as the entire castle; it was perhaps thirty feet across and twenty long. One side had wine bins filled with bottles and barrels. Cool and temperate all year long, it was the perfect place to store wine. A dirt floor and no furniture gave no comfort. The thick door had a heavy steel lock to keep the wine safe and them sealed in.
At least they had been given a lamp. Nick hoped candles would be replaced before they were thrust into total darkness.
Standing and facing him, Faith put her hands on her hips. Those unusual eyes of hers were narrowed on him. “Who are they, Nick?”
“Where is the puppy?” Nick avoided the question, but he also knew if anything happened to the dog, he was in real trouble.
Jamie said, “The round-faced man took a liking to Rumple and has kept him above.”
With so much to worry about, the expression of concern on everyone’s faces over a scrap of a puppy should have been farcical. However, even Nick had come to love the little fellow in one short day.
“You look worried,” Faith said. “Do you think they would harm an innocent puppy?”
Lying wouldn’t do anyone good. Enough lies had been told by him and on his behalf. Nick was through with lies, though he suspected he’d come to the epiphany too late. “I don’t know. These are ruthless men who have little moral fiber. Charles is not vicious and has a great love of animals. Hopefully that will be enough to keep Rumple safe. However, keep in mind that Charles is here to do me harm over misleading them, when he himself works for both the French and Austrian governments as a spy. You can imagine, his sense of decency is skewed.”
“And what of yours?” Faith had not come close to him since they’d entered the cellar. Standing several feet away, when he stepped closer, she backed up
.
Nick stopped his approach. “I have already told you that most of what I have done during this war, I am ashamed of. However, if I was asked to do it all again, I most likely would. I believed my actions were necessary for the safety of England and I still know that to be true.”
“But?” She was too clever by half. She saw his duplicity without him saying anything. Was it just Faith or had he lost his ability to be a good agent?
Backing up to the wall, he sighed and leaned against the cold stone. “But those men upstairs were my friends. Despite the fact that I was sent to infiltrate their circle, I did more than that. I befriended them. They told me things they would only tell a close confidant, and each one of them has a right to be furious with me. This makes them unpredictable.”
“Surely, Charles would be less so if he too is harboring duplicity.” She studied him for a long moment before approaching. She leaned next to him, then slid down to the floor.
Nick sat next to her, relieved that she was not too disgusted with him to be close. It shouldn’t matter if she hated him. His problems were epic in comparison to the regard of a woman, yet it was important she not hate him. “Charles Schulmeister, or Karl, as he was born, will do whatever is necessary to survive and accumulate money. If he goes against Jean-Claude and Joseph, he will mark himself a traitor and they will either ruin him or kill him.”
“I see.” She studied her hands. “That would motivate him to go along with whatever the plan might be.” After a long pause, she watched him. “Are they going to kill you, Nick?”
He laughed because it was the only thing he could do. There was no sense weeping over his life choices. It was only a shame that his cousin William would inherit. He’d never cared for that bore. “Yes, probably. But not right away.”
Her face lit up. “Mr. MacGruder will send for help. He must have seen some of what happened in the hothouse or garden. Surely he’ll notice something amiss by nightfall.”
He hated to dash her hopes, but he’d already promised himself no more lies. “MacGruder went to see his niece in town. He won’t return for days. They probably saw him leave and thought it a good time to act this afternoon. When MacGruder returns, perhaps he can send a note to Geb and you will be rescued. Still, Geb is at least a three-day ride and four days back with any kind of army. We shall have to be smart and stay alive on our own, my dear.”
Deflated, she went back to staring at her hands. “I will be extremely vexed with you if you die, Nicholas.”
It was madness to care about such things when his own death was probably hours away, but it warmed his soul to know she wanted him alive. “Wouldn’t my untimely death be the perfect solution? You would be free to find a good man to marry, and with the added benefit of my regard. I imagine you would be in high demand after an appropriate mourning period.”
“Don’t be disgusting,” she bit out and gave him a scolding stare.
He pulled her hand from her lap and kissed her soft knuckles. “I am deeply honored by your concern, Faith.”
If the servants had not been across the way, she might have kissed him. She looked from his lips to his eyes and back again before pulling her hand free and glancing away. “Tell me about the other two.”
Longing for that kiss was reckless and immature, but still he wanted to taste those sweet, full lips again and again until she was breathless. It took a force of will to steady those untimely emotions and push them aside. “Joseph Fouché wanted to be a teacher. He went to Paris to study and got caught up in the excitement of the revolution. He was charmed by none other than Robespierre himself. However, when his mentor heard of some atrocities he’d committed for the benefit of France, they had a falling-out and Joseph lost his faith. He is quite dangerous and smart. He keeps an extensive catalog of all royalists, and it is probably particularly vexing to him that I managed to elude his list.”
“And the one with the hateful glare?” Faith shivered and rubbed her arms.
“Indeed. It’s a fine description. Those eyes have frightened hundreds of resisters and royalists. Jean-Claude-Hippolyte Méhée de La Touche. He is by far the most dangerous to be in a room with. He was meant to follow in the footsteps of his surgeon father. Born in Meaux, there was an uproar when at the age of twelve he left for Paris. Not long after that, he was imprisoned. He has reinvented himself many times and swindled many people and governments, including our own.”
“You say that as if you admire him.” She had taken on that scolding tone again.
“He is clever beyond any other person I’ve ever known. He saved my life once as well. If the politics had been different, he and I might have been good friends. As it is, I have made a deadly enemy and put you and those three innocents in danger.” Frustrated, Nick rose and crossed to the servants.
He crouched in front of Thea, and the girl’s eyes widened and her lips quivered. Speaking softly to ease her worry, he said, “Thea, it is growing close to the supper hour. They will come to order you to cook. You must tell them you cannot manage without Jane and Jamie. Feed them your best food and be silent. They will be so happy with the meal, they will keep you all on the servants’ level.”
Thea gave a nervous nod. “I’ll try, Your Grace. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to poison the lot of them?”
He liked this child. “No. Best not risk it. If one abstains, we’d be in a real mess. Feed them well and stay safe.”
Clutching his coat sleeve, Jane demanded, “What of you and my lady?”
He put his hand on top of hers. “I will have to think of something else for our salvation, Jane. I promise to do all I can to protect her.”
Meeting his gaze directly, Jane said, “That had better be enough, Your Grace. The Wallflowers will haunt you into the next life, if anything happens to Lady Faith.”
Servants rarely spoke so boldly, but Nick couldn’t blame her. “I shall expect full retribution as I will never forgive myself should she or any of you be harmed.”
Jane nodded and pulled her hand away.
The key scraped in the lock.
Nick stood against the wall near the wine. He leaned and crossed his arms over his chest. It was easy to fall into the old habit of being relaxed even when he knew his life might end in the next few hours. He hoped to form a plan while his old friends ate and drank. If he was lucky, the lure of good food and wine would hold off his execution for the night.
The door swung open. Charles stepped in, brandishing his sword. He pointed the blade at Thea. “You. Upstairs and get cooking.”
Wide-eyed and trembling, Thea rose. “I’ll be needing the help of the others to make a proper meal, sir.”
Charles narrowed his eyes and looked Jane and Jamie over. “Fine. All three of you get to the kitchens. Do not think you can escape or send word out of this house. I will kill the lovely Lady Faith should any action other than cooking be taken by any of you.”
All three scurried to the door. Charles grabbed Jane’s arm. “Bring wine, girl.”
Jane scowled, but turned and walked to the wall of wine.
Nick plucked three fine bottles from the bin near him and handed them to Jane. If she came back later for more, he would know the spies were drunk and they were all likely safe for the night.
Taking them, Jane gave him a hard look and a nod before rushing up the steps after Thea and Jamie.
“Charles, don’t you find it hypocritical for you to punish me for my duality when you work for both the French and Austrians?” Nick remained relaxed against the wall.
Already ruddy, Charles’s complexion reddened like a berry and he puffed his cheeks. “I could just slit your throat and keep you quiet, Nicholas. But I suspect the threat of killing or maiming the lady will be enough to keep your mouth closed.”
Nick lifted his hands in surrender. “I merely asked the question.”
“Do not test me, Nicholas. I know
you think me less than the others, but I have managed quite nicely. I would have let you go, but Jean-Claude and Joseph were adamant you had to pay. As I have no loyalty to you….” He shrugged as if the rest of his sentence was obvious.
Nick supposed it was. Charles had no real loyalty to any person or country. His only allegiance was to himself. “Enjoy your supper. Cook is quite talented. You’ll want to keep the minimal staff to feed you. Don’t be quick to temper. They are quite young, but they will serve you well.”
Faith had remained near the far wall, but stood during the encounter. “I hope you have not harmed my dog.” Like a queen with all the power, he might have been dirt under her feet rather than her captor.
Looking aghast, with open mouth and shocked eyes, Charles said, “The puppy is under my care. No harm shall come to the sweet boy. I am not a monster.”
“His name is Rumple and he is fond of fowl. If Cook prepares hens, you might be kind enough to give him some scraps.”
Charles bowed. “I will see to his feeding, my lady.”
Bestowing a slight smile on him, Faith said, “Would a candle or two to see us through the night, be too much to ask?”
The only candle in the cellar had burned halfway down and would leave them in the pitch dark long before anyone came for them in the morning. Charles studied the candle for a long moment. “I will arrange enough light for the night.”
“Thank you.” She curtsied.
Looking contrite, with his head bowed and eyes searching for how he’d been swindled, Charles narrowed his brows and exited.
Once the lock had clicked, Nick waited several beats before crossing to Faith. “That was excellently done.”
“I do not like total darkness. I hope he keeps his word.” She shuddered.
Nick pulled her into his arms. “I hope so too. I’m sorry, Faith. I made enemies and now I have put you and those children in danger. Suddenly everything I did in the name of England seems foolish. It never occurred to me I would be putting anyone else in jeopardy.”
Misleading a Duke Page 7