Mr. Thames stuck a finger in Lord Hadfield’s chest. “What’s this fellow’s name then?”
“He is the new Earl of Hadfield. Sorry to disappoint, old man. Rumor has it that he inherited the title but not what you seek.”
Mary wracked her memory for details regarding PORFs, but she didn’t recall much.
Mr. Thames smirked. “Ah— but your information is out of date, Waterford. You were always a little slow to acknowledge what was right before you.”
Gilbert asked, “What are you rambling on about now?”
“You are an extremely trusting fellow, Waterford. Do you still believe Devonton was the one responsible for the map that led you and your troops into direct enemy territory?” Mr. Thames chuckled. “I see you do. Let me tell you rumors and information from supposed reliable sources are not always accurate. Those maps that were provided to you were, in fact, not the work of the revered Lord Devonton.” Mr. Thames walked over to André and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It was the work of our dear French friend here and his papa, Comte Boucher.”
Gilbert shook his head. “Comte Boucher provided sanctuary to our troops. He is an ally.”
“You are a fool, Waterford. For years the comte has been working both sides. He remains loyal to no one but himself, providing aid to the party that bids the highest.”
Gilbert’s face was awash in anger and confusion. This was the reason Gilbert had treated Lord Devonton with such distaste since his return.
Gilbert’s eyes continued to follow Mister Thames as the man walked back to stand before him. Eye to eye with Mr. Thames, Gilbert asked, “And you have also adopted such a philosophy on how to lead one’s life?”
“It has worked remarkably well for Comte Boucher. There was nothing for us when we returned home. Honest work is scarce, and after having sacrificed years, I wasn’t even awarded enough for lodgings. So one must become resourceful.” Mr. Thames took out a pointed blade and scraped it down Lord Hadfield’s greatcoat, toying with the buttons.
Gilbert said, “I assure you, he’s not the one you are searching for. You mustn’t be paying your informants enough, for they have led you on a wild-goose chase for Hadfield.”
“Hmmm—” Mr. Thames swiveled, glanced about the group. “I will grant you that our intelligence was fairly inaccurate. There had been no mention of a woman nor of Boucher’s son.”
“Thames. Do you really believe in the stories of PORFs? I’d not taken you for a fool.”
“I’ve never believed in children’s stories, but if it pays our way for the next six months, I’m willing to indulge my employer and search for the ridiculous brand that he believes Hadfield here is searching for.” The tip of Mr. Thames blade disappeared, sinking into the material of Lord Hadfield’s coat. “Or perhaps he has yet to locate it.” Removing the blade, Mr. Thames moved to stand before Gilbert. “No, we were told Hadfield would not make arrangements to return to England unless he had the item in his possession.”
Gilbert didn’t even flinch as Mr. Thames waved the blade about in front of his face. How could he be so calm? Every time the blade came near Gilbert’s face Mary wanted to attack the odious man tormenting her husband.
Gilbert remained stoic, spine rigid and his neck elongated to give him as much height as possible. “I’ve been in Hadfield’s presence for months. The treasure we found was returned with Harrington. That is whom you should be hunting down.”
Lord Hadfield’s features darkened as Gilbert spoke.
Mr. Thames looked at his men and then back at Gilbert. “You found Harrington alive?”
“Barely, but he was breathing. He has returned along with what you are searching for. Now, if you would be so kind as to untie us and let us be on our way, we will keep this little interlude private, shall we?”
Unconvinced, Mr. Thames returned to Lord Hadfield’s side and began to pat him down and search his pockets. Finding nothing, he moved on to repeat the same search on André. The man growled as André’s pockets were found empty. Mr. Thames looked at Mary then at Gilbert, whose features clearly stated he’d kill the man if he dared touch her.
Shaking his head, Mr. Thames asked, “Lady Waterford, what do you know of the children’s tale?”
“All I recall is that the horrid term stands for Protectors of the Royal Family. It is as you said, a tale for young minds.”
Mr. Thames stalked toward her. “Hmm— Do you not believe in the secret society led by three powerful families? Supposedly there are legions of families pledging their oaths to serve these PORFs.”
All three men shifted, arms flexing, as they tugged on their restraints. Men of little faith.
With the sweetest smile she could muster, Mary said, “Mr. Thames, did you not just enlighten my husband as to the foolishness of believing in rumors and gossip? I no more believe in PORFs than I do in spirits.”
Gilbert’s shoulders relaxed. He gave her an encouraging smile and then winked. Her heart soared. Gilbert believed in her.
Mr. Thames let out a hearty laugh. “You are correct, my lady.” He turned to face Gilbert, “You are a lucky man to have married such a beauty but extremely fortunate she also has wit.”
Mr. Thames made a circling motion to his men. “Let’s be off. Lady Waterford can do the honors of releasing her traveling companions.” He bowed and said, “My thanks for the horseflesh, they will fetch me enough coin to cover the expense of this wild-goose chase.”
Mary faked despair. “You can’t be serious. How are we to continue?”
“Ah, so the duke’s daughter does have a petulant side after all.”
To prove him correct, she crossed her arms and pouted. Mr. Thames gawked at her décolletage.
The man’s eyes slowly rose to her protruding bottom lip. “Shame there isn’t more time. You are a tempting morsel.”
Gilbert growled. “Harm her, and you die.”
“No fear. I’m not about to dally about any longer than necessary.” He took the reins of his mount from one of his men and mounted. “Home, gents. We are to off to find Harrington and the loot.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Mary’s hands shook as she loosened Gilbert’s bindings. He had thought she was unaffected, but he was wrong. Mary was stoic, but she had a tender heart, and he had seen to it that she had spent the past year in isolation. It was his fault she had remained sheltered.
Gilbert wrapped her in a hug as soon as he was free.
Hadfield interrupted. “If you could untie us first, before mauling one another, I’d appreciate it.”
Mary turned to assist Hadfield. “It is you, I—” She stopped midsentence.
Gilbert stiffened as he caught sight of Hadfield’s narrowed gaze upon Mary’s décolletage. Hadfield had been the one who she would have chosen to marry if he had not already signed the blasted marriage agreements. Jealousy again wiped all rational thought from his mind. He stomped over and grabbed Mary by the elbow to haul her out of Hadfield’s grasp.
“Gilbert! What is the matter with you?”
“I’m aware you wished to marry Hadfield, but it is I who you pledged to honor for the rest of your days.”
She pulled out of his arms and placed her hands upon her hips. “Gilbert Elliot Talbot. Let me be clear. I am in love with you, and only you. I thought you understood that last night. Are you always going to behave the jealous husband? Really, there is no reason.”
“Yes, I fear when it comes to you, I become extremely and irrationally jealous. Lass, I’m deeply in love with you.”
Mary wrapped her arms about his neck and pulled him down to her so that they were eye to eye. “Husband, there is no need to be jealous of another. I’ll always be faithful to you. My heart has always belonged to you.”
“As mine belongs to you.”
Hadfield rolled his eyes and André muttered, “Mon Dieu! Sauve-moi de tous ces couples!”
Gilbert chuckled at the lad’s plea—My God, Save us from these couples.
“I do hav
e matters to discuss with Lord Hadfield. Would you please trust me and allow us a moment of privacy?”
He eyed Hadfield, who stood staring at Mary. “Lass, I trust you. It is Hadfield I do not trust, for he can’t tear his eyes away from the tops of your creamy breasts.”
She leaned up and kissed him soundly. “But not for the reason you ogle them. He wants what is currently hidden beneath my décolletage.”
“What was it that André gave you?”
“I have no idea. Lady Frances instructed me to have André hand it over and to safely conceal it. There are times when you must simply follow blindly and hope for the best.”
Mr. Thames’s speech about him being a fool had unsettled him. He placed trust and faith in his superiors, and now it was time for him to do that with Mary.
“Lass, make it quick. I prefer to have you by my side rather than André.” He patted her bottom as she strode to catch up to Hadfield.
André dropped back to walk alongside him. Head bowed, André said, “Mr. Thames spoke the truth. My papa has volleyed between sides, reasoning it was for our safety.”
“And you believed him?”
“At first, but now I see that he was merely driven by greed.” André kicked the dirt with the toe of his shoe.
A few paces later Gilbert asked, “What did you give my wife?”
“It is an old branding coin. Used generations ago to mark the members of three legendary families.”
Branding coin? Gilbert had never heard of such a thing. “How did it come to be in your possession?”
André hastened his steps. “Valois.”
“Yes, Yes, I know Valois was the one who gave it to you, but how exactly did such an item end up in your hands?” Gilbert lengthened his stride. Hypnotized by the subtle sway of his wife’s hips, he absently said, “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
Their increased pace shortened the distance between them and Mary.
André cleared his throat. “Lady Mary is an extraordinary woman.”
Gilbert nodded. Yes, his Mary was indeed amazing. At the mention of her, André’s forlorn appearance disappeared. The young man almost appeared chipper.
André said, “She will know how to handle the matter of finding the marked one.”
The words—marked, branding coin, PORF—all collided in Gilbert’s mind. “Is that who Valois instructed you to find and give it to?”
André nodded. “Oui. But your wife blackmailed me into giving it to her before we departed.”
“Blackmail?”
André glanced about at their surroundings. “Lady Mary is privy to information I have no clue how she obtained, but I do not wish for it to be shared with anyone.”
Interesting.
Gilbert was beginning to grasp the extent of Mary’s gift. If Mary was kept informed by those that no longer existed on this earth, she had full access to a wealth of knowledge he had not been exposed to before. Perhaps he would become fond of Mary’s Lady Frances after all.
Farther up the path, he could make out the silhouettes of a coach and outriders. But they were so far in the distance shouting for assistance would be useless.
He ran to catch up to Mary and Hadfield. “There are travelers up ahead. Mary, can you contact them?”
“How would I do that?”
“You know. Maybe your friend, Lady Frances, could assist.”
She shook her head. “That is not how it works, my dear.”
“In that case, Hadfield or I will have to try to catch up with them.”
Hadfield didn’t hesitate. “I’ll go.”
“Your lung condition. It’s best if I go.” He gave Mary a chaste kiss and started off at a jog but quickly increased his pace.
The farther he was from Mary, the more anxious he became until he caught up with the coach whose passengers were emerging from the tree line.
“Halo. Salut.”
A young fellow looked at him and then turned to his companion. “Good Lord, Riley. I think I’m hallucinating. Is that Captain Waterford?”
His companion replied, “But it can’t be. The cap’n swore he’d not set foot on French soil again. We really need to lay off the opium.”
“Aye, you lads need to return home and not wallow in these French dens wasting away.”
“Nothing for us to return to, Cap’n.”
Isn’t that what Thames had claimed?
“Well, I have a castle that needs repairing. If you lads would be so kind as to assist me in getting my wife and friends to port, I’ll give you work once we are back on British soil.”
Wide-eyed, the pair looked at each other than back to him.
“Maybe, Captain, we should escort you back home.” They looked around him, but Mary and the others were not in sight.
“Don’t leave.”
Gilbert ordered one of the outriders to dismount. He grabbed the reins and vaulted into the saddle. Heading back the way he came, he realized he’d traveled a lot farther away from their group than he originally believed.
Rounding a bend, he finally spotted Mary. She sat upon a log, flanked by Hadfield and André.
He slowed his mount and dismounted with a jump. He knelt before his wife, reaching for her. “Are you hurt? Why are you all sitting?”
Mary brushed away his searching hands. “We are resting. We are not accustomed to marching for miles on end.”
The war had conditioned him to travel long distances. Taking in Mary’s features, she didn’t appear in the least tired. Peering over at Hadfield, he was bent, head between his leg, gasping for air. The man’s lung condition always worsened with physical activity.
Gilbert assisted Mary to stand. “I’ve found help. We need to make it about another mile, and there are some lads who will assist us in getting to port.”
André stood and brushed the backside of his breeches. “How fortunate.”
“I told you not to worry. I was right. Gilbert found help.” Mary smiled at the lad, whose cheeks promptly turned red. She bent down to speak to Hadfield. “Are you ready to continue?”
Hadfield slowly rolled to his full height and asked, “You trust these men?”
The memory of the pair of soldiers fighting by his side, dried blood and dirt covering them, flashed before Gilbert. “With my life.”
He gave Mary a boost up onto the horse. She reached for the reins and set a comfortable walking pace. None of the men were interested in engaging in conversation. Both André and Hadfield were in deep thought, while Gilbert’s full attention was trained on Mary’s beautiful silhouette. He contemplated how long would it be before they could be alone again—hours, days, both, too long in his opinion.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Gilbert bounded into the carriage and bundled Mary up into his arms. She was finally alone again with her husband.
“Lass, you look tired.” Gilbert ran his knuckles down her jawline. “Did Hadfield’s snoring keep you awake?”
Snuggling into his shoulder, Mary was shocked to find the man warmer than a summer’s day. He’d been out in the cold, riding all night without sleep for close to twenty-four hours. She should be the one warming him up. Instead, he was rubbing the stiff muscles in her back, working the soreness out of them. They were still a fair way from port, but they were traveling at an unrelenting pace. By her calculations, they should reach Calais within the next day or so.
Mary answered, “No. I slept little due to my mind racing.”
It had been Phillip and Lady Frances’s heated discussions, all centered around the wrapped object that Mary had given to Lord Hadfield, which caused her to remain awake. Phillip had debated with Lady Frances over Valois’s actions. Neither was aware of how exactly her cousin came into possession of the coin, but when his guides informed him it was imperative it be returned to a man who bore the mark, and that one was in residence, Valois had sent his maid to determine if it was Gilbert or Lord Hadfield who should receive the item. When Aimée failed to see Gilbert naked that first night,
Valois made the curious decision to keep the coin, but when his guides informed him André had been instructed by his papa to seek out a man who bore the mark, Valois entrusted André with the coin. Phillip had argued he should have intervened instead of involving Mary and potentially putting her in danger. Lady Frances had argued it had all worked out and that she never doubted Mary would be able to handle any situation that arose.
From experience, Mary found it best to listen to all the arguments shared with her before making her own decision what action, if any, should be taken. For the very first time, she wanted to discuss her troubles with another—her husband.
Raising her chin, Mary said, “I gave Lord Hadfield the item Mr. Thatcher was sent to obtain. It’s a branding coin.”
“Did you see it?”
“No. Yes. Not exactly. When Lord Hadfield thought I was asleep, he carefully pulled back the cloth to reveal what looked to be a button. Curiously, Lord Hadfield closed his eyes and ran his thumb over it repeatedly, it was then that I sneaked a look at the round metal disk, with its distinctive design—the outline of a horse with a falcon perched on its back, circled by laurel leaves.” Mary was sure she had seen parts of the design before, but never its totality. “PORFs are real, and Lord Hadfield is one. But who are the other two families?”
Mary rubbed the back of her husband’s neck.
Gilbert frowned as he removed her hand from his neck and clasped it tightly. “Did you ask Lord Hadfield to prove his identity before you gave him the item?”
“I did.” Mary attempted to pull her hand from his, but Gilbert held on tight. “Lord Hadfield explained that only those who share the mark are privy to a view of it. However, he surprised me by adding that there are others who are aware of the identities of those who bear the mark.” She waited until Gilbert turned to face her directly. “You’ve known all along that Lord Hadfield is a PORF. Why did Archbroke choose you to protect him?”
Visions of Lady Mary Page 20