Misleading a Duke

by A. S. Fenichel

  Nick couldn’t help liking Charles despite all that had happened. “Unlikely, knowing Joseph.”

  Holding the baton aloft, Nick waited for further approval.

  A nod from Charles, and Nick proceeded to push the baton into the opening big enough for a man’s hand.

  A loud crack broke the silence and Charles jumped. “Ach! Gut.”

  Nick laughed and pulled the baton free. It was bitten by the jaws of an animal trap meant to deter foxes from getting too close to the chicken coop. Even so, those sharp teeth and strong jaws could easily break a man’s wrist or take off a few fingers. The baton had not survived, but Nick handed it back to Charles anyway.

  Safe to put his hand inside the hole, Nick retrieved two black leather-bound books. They appeared harmless enough, but the contents could get many men and women of noble blood or ties to royalist politics hanged in France. “I shall have to have these copied, Charles.”

  Charles studied the hole where the fireplace had been altered to use as a hiding place. “I need to have a look. Once I find what I think is in there, I can wait for the rest. I trust our agreement is that of gentlemen, Nicholas? I will not have to track you down at some future date to get this copy?”

  Nick handed the books to Charles. He then picked up the stone and returned it to its place. Other than the trap, which, now freed from the baton, sat on the hearth, the fireplace was undisturbed. Nick would have given anything to see Joseph’s face when he walked in, saw the trap, and knew his hiding place was discovered.

  Turning the pages, Charles studied one of the books near the candlelight. “Ah, it is as I thought.” He grinned, closed the book, and handed both back to Nick.

  Tucking the thin volumes into the inside pocket of his coat, Nick gave a small bow. “I will find a safe way to get the copy to you.”

  With a shrug, Charles said, “I’m certain you will. You are less given to lying directly than the average spy, Nicholas. Perhaps this is not the business you should be in any longer.”

  “Perhaps not.” Nick didn’t think he had ever agreed with anyone more.

  Charles tucked away both pieces of his ruined baton. “I think this will mark the end of our association, Nicholas. I hope you will find happiness with Lady Faith. She is quite an amazing woman.”

  They shook hands.

  Nick gave a nod. “Try to stay out of trouble, Charles. Maybe it’s time for you to return to Austria and get out of this business yourself.”

  Charles’s lips twisted. “Alas, my country does not enjoy a large body of water to keep Napoleon at bay. You English have time that Austria does not enjoy. I must keep on.”

  Part of Nick felt sorry for the man, but wartime left little room for those sentiments. “I wish you well, Charles.”

  Still gripping Nick’s hand tightly, Charles met his stare. “And you, Nicholas.”

  Charles left through the servants’ door and turned to the south while Nick headed back toward the village to the west.

  The books were not much to carry, but they weighed heavy on Nick. He had already made an enemy of Joseph, and stealing his precious books would create a new level of aggression between them. Still, he could not feel bad about taking them. It had been Joseph’s hand on Faith, forcing his angel to watch while Jean-Claude inflicted his punishment.

  How was he ever going to make up for such a terrible week? He couldn’t. Yet she had forgiven him and even allowed for his lack of communication while he recovered. It was true he’d not known what to say, but it had also given her the opportunity to dismiss him, if that had been her choice. She had not. Did that mean she loved him? He hoped so. But daring to hope left him vulnerable to hurt far greater than any torture he’d endured.

  * * * *

  “Tell me again why you haven’t been to see Lady Faith.” Geb made no effort to hide his disappointment. He paced the rug between the round divan and the overstuffed set of English-style chairs in the parlor. Gold, silver, and bronze statues, trinkets, and relics filled every hard surface. The walls were draped in rich fabrics depicting Egyptian scenes. Geb would fit into any of those scenes in his white linen clothes.

  “You’re worse than a mother hen. I will send her a note as soon as this other business is finished.” Nick lounged in one of the chairs, plucking at the rich blue fabric. His leg ached, as he’d not spent enough time with it elevated in the last few hours. It had been six weeks since his ball, when he’d last seen Faith. He longed for her, but he didn’t want her near while he was working.

  “If you ruin that chair, I will make you have it reupholstered and feel not one bit sorry for it.” In a fit of temper, Geb perched his fists on his hips and leveled his dark eyes on Nick.

  Stilling his nervous fingers, he left the chair intact.

  Geb’s expression softened. “Why don’t you go and rest that leg?”

  It had been bad luck that on his way out of Germany he’d been shot by a French soldier near the border. A random squadron making their way back to camp had spotted him and thought him an English spy, and rightly so. Still, he’d managed his escape with only a small injury to his leg. He would heal. “I can’t stay abed when there are things to be done.”

  Geb carried one of the colorful cushions over to Nick, then lifted Nick’s leg onto the soft pillow. “You are most difficult when injured.”

  The ache lessened, but Nick refused to thank Geb. He hated having need of others and scowled at the cane he’d been using since being shot. He was constantly injured these last months. At least Faith was not there to see him in such a state once again.

  “Did you hear from the transcriber? I don’t know how long I can hold Drake off.” Nick rubbed the side of his thigh, feeling the bandage through his breeches.

  “Why don’t you just tell him the truth? And why not give him the original books? It might be done already if Kosey’s associate had only one copy to make.” Geb threw himself onto the divan and rested on his side with his head perched on one hand. It was a decidedly Egyptian pose.

  “Insurance,” Nick said.

  Geb sat up, eyes filled with concern. “You think Joseph Fouché will risk returning to England for those silly books of his?”

  Nick had seen Joseph with the books in his hand once. He’d interrupted while Joseph was writing in one of them. The way he’d fondled the pages and then hugged the books to his chest when he was done with whatever he’d written, had made Nick uncomfortable enough to find out what was in the bound treasures. “I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Then despite your agreement to bring Fouché’s books to Drake, you will keep the originals for yourself?”

  His friend had a keen mind. There was little point in trying to deceive him. Besides, Geb Arafa was the one person in the world of politics he trusted. They were friends and had been for two years.

  “I was thinking about the day we met, Geb.” Nick changed the subject and none too smoothly.

  A full smile showed Geb’s straight white teeth against brown skin. “As you wish, Nicholas. I cannot forget that day. If not for you, I would have lost my head to one of your countrymen.”

  Nick hated being at sea, and the day he’d met Geb had been a terrible day of rolling waves that left Nick heaving over the rail. It turned out to be a lucky thing since at the same time, a brutish captain had decided he didn’t like the look of an Egyptian on one of His Majesty’s ships. Geb was not accustomed to being abused, having been raised in a wealthy home. The outcome would have gone terribly wrong if Nick had not pulled rank on the captain.

  Luckily, Nick had kept his breakfast down long enough to give the captain a firm set down before he could use his sword to slice through Geb’s neck.

  After, Geb had helped Nick survive motion sickness for the remainder of the journey and they had remained friends and worked together since. “I think you rushing in with a full regiment a
t Parvus makes us even on our life-saving account.”

  “Perhaps,” Geb agreed, but frowned. “If I had arrived a few days earlier or refused Lady Faith’s request to begin with, it would have ended far better.”

  “You can’t know that. Fouché had me under surveillance for some time. He would have followed me until he caught me off my guard, somewhere with enough privacy to attempt to extract information. It is possible that Faith would not have been present, but my guess is that the lady would have found another way to get me alone. She is quite tenacious.” Nick would go and see her as soon as the books were copied, his leg was healed, and he could put this business behind him. He missed her smile and the curve of her neck where it met her shoulder. He longed for the scent of her and her touch. He shook away his baser thoughts. He’d delayed seeing her to avoid distraction, but not seeing her was nearly as muddling to his mind.

  “In any event, even if I am no longer indebted to you, I still value your friendship.”

  Nick said, “As do I, Geb. I think your friendship is the most important of my life.”

  Geb cocked his head. “I think there is a beautiful young lady whose camaraderie will come to mean more to you. For now, however, I thank you for the honor.”

  Hoping his friend was right, Nick struggled to rise, took his cane and went to the table in the corner and jotted a letter to Faith. Perhaps letting her know he was close to town was not such a bad idea. It might even relieve some of his obsession to hear from her if she wrote back.

  Chapter 21

  Faith knew it would be more ladylike to respond to Nick’s letter with one of her own. As she stepped down from Aurora’s carriage in front of Geb’s home, she didn’t care about being polite. She wanted to see Nick.

  Aurora surveyed the pretty manor house. “You really should have sent a note saying we would call, Faith.”

  Stepping down and slipping her arm through the crook in Faith’s elbow, Mercy made a dismissive sound. “Where’s the fun in that, Aurora? This is better. We shall see a true reaction from His Grace.”

  “I hadn’t realized this was a test.” Aurora brushed out her sky-blue skirt and tugged her lace-trimmed bonnet into place. “Well, we’re here. We had better go knock on the door.”

  Mercy patted Faith’s hand. “Are you all right?”

  “I wish Poppy were here. She and Rhys are on far more intimate terms with Mr. Arafa. I feel rude just showing up, now that we’re here.” Faith took a deep breath and lifted her chin as they climbed the stairs.

  “Don’t listen to Aurora. Mr. Arafa hardly seems the type to mind an impromptu visit.” Mercy kept hold of Faith’s arm to keep her from running away.

  Nothing was going to stop her from seeing Nick. She might be nervous, but she would have a glimpse of him and know he was well before she returned to town.

  Aurora lifted her hand to knock, but the door swung open before she could complete the task.

  The butler, Kosey, loomed in the doorway with a wide smile and an elegant bow. He was nearly as tall as the enormous oak door, and in white livery with a turban, he was spectacular. “Good afternoon, ladies. How may I be of assistance?”

  Turning her head, Aurora looked to Faith for a response. Raising one curved eyebrow, she smirked.

  Faith narrowed her eyes at Aurora for a moment before turning her attention to Kosey. “Lady Faith Landon to see the Duke of Breckenridge with my friends and chaperone.”

  “Of course.” Kosey bowed again. “I will see if His Grace is accepting visitors. Will you ladies wait in the parlor?”

  They followed the butler into the grand and elaborate parlor. Faith had admired the room when she’d attended Mr. Arafa’s dinner party. He had managed to decorate in the stoic English style, as well as incorporate a fantastic amount of Egyptian art and furniture. Somehow it all worked together to give the room a sense of decadence.

  Mercy flounced onto the round divan and sank into the cushion several inches. She attempted to cross her ankles, but rolled back onto her elbows before giving up and crossing her legs under her skirts. “There is really no way to sit ladylike on this, but it’s the most comfortable thing I’ve ever been on. I may never leave.” She leaned to one side and propped her head on her elbow.

  The door burst open and Nicholas rushed in with his weight supported on a black cane and his handsome face flushed. “You’re here.”

  Mercy gasped, and in her attempt to stand up, rolled to the floor in a heap that was more like Poppy than graceful Mercy. “Oh Lord.” She righted herself and all three curtsied.

  Nick bowed. “Forgive me. It is a pleasure to see you all.”

  Suddenly Faith’s tongue felt too big for her mouth. She took a breath. “I was delighted to receive your letter.”

  “I’m happy to hear that.” He kept his gaze fixed on hers.

  Faith wanted to run across the room and jump into his arms, but she rooted her feet to the floor. Breaking the stare, Faith spotted his cane. “You are injured?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “It is nothing and will heal quickly.”

  “Should I have written?” The awkwardness made her heart pound.

  Eyes bright, he approached and took her hands. “I’m elated to see you.”

  Faith wanted to cry with joy, not only at hearing that he was pleased to have her visit, but just seeing him alive and in England. She’d worried while he was away. She was transfixed by his bright eyes surrounded by dark lashes.

  Aurora cleared her throat. “Perhaps the two of you would care to walk in the garden? I’m sure Mercedes and I will find much to amuse ourselves in this parlor.”

  Dressed the part of an English gentleman, Geb Arafa stepped into the room. His dark jacket and white cravat made his brown skin glow. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I heard there were guests. What a pleasure to have you ladies here at Aaru.” He bowed.

  Nick dropped Faith’s hands and they both turned toward the doorway.

  “Forgive us for not writing ahead, Mr. Arafa. We hope you don’t mind our uninvited appearance.” Aurora made a pretty curtsy.

  A slightly chubby English lady, with housekeeper’s keys hanging from her waist and a blue turban wrapped elegantly around her head, came into the room.

  “Ah, Mrs. Bastian,” Geb said. “How fortunate you are here. Can you arrange some tea for myself and the ladies? I think His Grace will be busy in the gardens, but perhaps will require tea in a short while.”

  A wide smile played across Mrs. Bastian’s round face. “I’ll see to it, sir.”

  When she was gone, Geb narrowed his gaze on Faith and Nicholas. “Are the two of you just going to stand there pretending you do not wish to be alone, or are you going to excuse yourselves to the gardens?”

  Mercy laughed. “Oh, I do like it here.” She sat back down on the fluffy round divan and promptly leaned over on her side.

  Nick took Faith’s hand and intertwined his fingers in hers. “If you ladies will excuse us.” He made a bow and gently pulled Faith from the room.

  Not even bothering to feign disinterest in leaving for the gardens, Faith gave him no resistance. Summer’s warm breeze made the elaborate and lush garden a pleasure, but Faith spared only a brief glance at the low maze of shrubs or the large fountain at the center.

  She stopped.

  Nick turned to face her. Hindered by his cane, the move was not as graceful as the man she saw last at his ball in London. “You are distressed by my injury?”

  Looking from his leg to his eyes, she shook in a long breath. “I have a thousand questions about that and other things, Nick, but I’m more distressed that we are awkward in each other’s company. I don’t know if I should curtsy or leap into your arms.”

  With only an instant’s hesitation, Nick snaked out his arm and dragged her against his chest. “Always leap, sweetheart.”

  She wr
apped her arms around him and breathed in his comforting scent. He’d put some weight back on and felt solid and strong. “Are you finished with that other business?”

  His chest lifted and fell and his lips pressed to her hair. “Almost. There is one last item to take care of, but I shall not have to leave England again.”

  Relief flooded her. It was the first time she’d relaxed since Parvus. Knowing he was safe and would remain so, gave her ease that she’d not known she’d been longing for. “I’m much relieved.”

  Pulling back, he contemplated her serious expression. “Does that mean you worried over me?”

  “Of course.” Was he mad to think otherwise?

  “When last I saw you, you were none too pleased with me. When I wrote you yesterday, I didn’t know if the note I would receive would finally release me from our engagement.” A deep frown left those stunning eyes filled with worry.

  Holding him tight, she pressed her cheek to his chest. “I was an utter fool. Forgive me. I’ll not lie and tell you I’m happy with this odd profession you’ve chosen, but I love you and I can learn to live with it.”

  Silence descended on the garden. Time itself and even Nick’s pounding heart seemed to stop.

  There was a nearly imperceptible beat before Nick’s low voice cut through the quiet. “You love me?”

  The fact that he didn’t know, that she hadn’t told him, was appalling. Had she been so foolish? “I love you more than I will ever be able to put into words.”

  The cane clattered to the stones beneath their feet and he wrapped his strong arms around her more tightly. “I will not take any more assignments.”

  Faith closed her eyes with the deluge of relief. “Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep, Nick. You are the kind of man who goes where you are needed. If England needs you, you shall find it difficult to refuse.”

  “Difficult but not impossible. I shall be very busy loving you and will have little time for anything else. Let other men do their part. I have something to live for.”