Heroes of Honor: Historical Romance Collection

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Gabe listened until it was quiet and he knew he was alone. He’d like to say he regretted their one night of passion, but he would never regret it. The memory of her in his arms would have to last him the rest of his life.

  …

  Every morning for the past three days Gabriel had made his way from high on a hill overlooking Rouen to the docks to check for Captain Faraday’s arrival. Each day he’d returned with disappointing news. Today would be different.

  “Is the Silver Star there?” Austin asked the minute Gabe broke through the thick hedgerow where they’d hidden the wagon.

  Gabe nodded. “Get everything together. We’ll leave at dawn.”

  A smile lifted the corners of Austin’s face and he put his arm around Liddy’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “Only a few more days, Liddy, and you’ll be home. Just in time to throw yourself into another Season.”

  “Yes, just in time.”

  Culbertson stepped forward. “What should we do with the wagon and horses, Major?”

  “We’ll take them with us.”

  The men stared at him as if they hadn’t heard him correctly, but when he shook his head, they held their questions.

  “Lady Lydia,” he said, “instruct Hannah and Morgan to load everything, then get some rest. We’ll leave early in the morning.”

  Liddy nodded and went to speak with Hannah and Morgan. When she was gone, Gabe walked through the trees to a spot where he could still see the wagon, but was out of hearing. Austin and the marquess followed him.

  “Does Captain Faraday know we’re here?” Austin asked.

  “No. I’ll go back as soon as it gets dark. It was too risky to board while it was still light.”

  “But there’s a problem,” Austin stated as if he could read Gabriel’s mind.

  Gabe tried to make light of their situation. “There isn’t a problem,” he said with as close to a smile as he could muster.

  “I can read you like a book. What’s wrong?”

  Gabriel looked to where Culbertson leaned against a large oak tree near them and realized it wasn’t wise to keep anything from either of them.

  “Rouen is crawling with French soldiers. They’re searching every ship that docks or sails.”

  “We’ll just have to get past them,” Austin said as if that was a simple matter.

  Gabriel shook his head. “If it were just the three of us and Morgan, we’d take the risk of boarding the ship without being seen. But not with Hannah and Lydia. We can’t chance them getting caught.”

  Culbertson pushed away from the tree. “What’s your plan, Major?”

  “The five of you are going to be part of Captain Faraday’s cargo.”

  “And what about you?”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  Austin raised his eyebrows and stared at him. “I don’t like this.”

  “You don’t have to like it, Captain Landwell,” Gabe said, pulling rank when he’d never done so before. “And neither do you,” he said to Culbertson. “You just have to follow orders. And your orders are to get Hannah, Lydia, and yourselves to England.”

  “And you?”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  There was a long silence, then Culbertson stepped closer. “You mentioned we were to be part of the ship’s cargo. Perhaps you could be more specific.”

  Gabriel explained his plan. When he finished, Austin released a long breath. “It’s too risky.”

  “We’ve taken bigger risks before.”

  “Then I’ll do it.”

  “No,” Gabe answered him with a slash of his hand through the air. “They’ll recognize you. And you.” He looked at the marquess. “I’m the only one they haven’t seen.”

  “I can’t let you do it,” Culbertson said, twisting a leaf that he’d pulled from the tree.

  Gabe smiled. “You’re not in charge of this mission, Agent Thorn. I am. And I’ll give the orders.”

  Culbertson looked him squarely in the eyes. There was a harsh expression on his face, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You know what your chances of making it out of France are, don’t you?”

  “No different than any mission on which I was assigned during the war. It’s a risk I took many times over.”

  “There has to be another way,” Austin said.

  Gabe held up his hand to stop him from going further. “There isn’t. This is the only chance we have. LeBrouche is the only one who could have recognized me, and he’s not alive to point a finger.”

  Culbertson narrowed his gaze. “I can’t approve of this.”

  “You don’t have to. All you have to do is play the role you’ve been assigned.”

  The marquess shook his head. He knew he’d lost the argument. “Good luck, Major,” he said before he turned and walked away from them.

  Austin watched Culbertson leave. “If this doesn’t work, she’ll never forgive you,” he said.

  Gabe laughed. “If this doesn’t work, it won’t matter.”

  He’d be dead.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gabriel sat in the driver’s seat of the wagon and kept the horses moving at a slow, steady pace. He’d waited hours for the perfect opportunity to get them to the Silver Star, and it was finally time. He intended to have them aboard just before the ship sailed. There was less chance they’d be discovered that way.

  He wended his way through Rouen’s cobbled streets, then turned toward the harbor. The smell of the sea grew stronger and his heart pounded more heavily. He checked the pistol in his pocket.

  They were almost there. He looked over his shoulder at the seven kegs in the back of the wagon. Hannah and Lydia were hidden in the two nearest him. Austin, Culbertson and Morgan in the next three. And the two barrels nearest the back were filled with maggot-ridden garbage and human refuse they’d taken from heaped garbage containers and slop pails in half the alleys of Rouen. The stench was atrocious.

  Gabriel prayed if they were stopped, the French soldiers wouldn’t have the stomach to look any further than the first two barrels.

  He turned a corner and made his way closer to where the Silver Star was docked. It was early afternoon and the wharf was a hive of activity, with a half dozen ships preparing to sail.

  His heart pounded. He only had to get them aboard and they’d be safe. Faraday promised that as soon as they were carried on board he’d raise anchor and set sail.

  Gabriel moved at a slow, steady pace until the Silver Star was in sight. It wouldn’t be long now. He was glad. It had been more than an hour since he’d sealed the lids, and even with the air holes they’d punched in the sides and bottoms of the barrels, he knew they must be uncomfortable.

  “We’re almost there,” he said to the kegs behind him. “There are four soldiers up ahead. Relax, and don’t make a sound.”

  The horses kept their pace, making their way through the crowded lane until they reached the gangplank that rose to the deck of the ship. The minute he pulled back on the reins, half a dozen sailors from the Silver Star shuffled down the gangplank, pushing two four-wheeled carts.

  Gabriel climbed down from his seat, clutching his cane in his hand and pulling his cap low over his brows. He’d let his beard grow and didn’t think it was likely anyone would recognize him now, but perhaps if they had a description… perhaps if they were watching for someone with a limp…

  He made his way to the back of the wagon, keeping an eye on the soldiers. One group stood around two brightly painted doxies working the docks, looking for a quick coin. Another few sat on crates, watching the loading and unloading of cargo with halfhearted enthusiasm. He gave them a second glance and breathed a sigh of relief that none of them seemed interested enough to walk toward him.

  He and one of Faraday’s sailors climbed onto the back of the wagon while the other sailors rolled the first cart into position. The first keg was the heaviest and they struggled to move it. When they rolled it to the cart, the lid came lose and some of the putrid slop sloshed over the sid
e and ran down the side of the barrel. Bloody hell, but the smell was pathetic. His stomach lurched and he slammed back the cover.

  “We’ll dump it as soon as we get out to sea,” he said beneath his breath.

  “Maybe we should leave it behind on the cart as a little parting gift,” one of the sailors answered and they all smiled.

  When the first barrel was on the cart, they went back to get the second. Before they had it loaded, a voice stopped them.

  “Halt!”

  Gabriel slowly reached into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the gun hidden there. He cautiously lifted his head and turned his gaze to six French soldiers walking toward them.

  “What do you have there?”

  The soldier who’d asked the question was the only officer in the group, a captain. He walked with a strut and a puffed out chest. When he stopped beside the wagon, he cocked his head as if the decoration on his uniform should impress them. Gabriel’s instincts warned him to be wary.

  “It’s slop. The English sea captain has been hired to take it to the Channel and dump it.”

  The officer laughed. “That is ridiculous. Why would anyone pay someone to haul away their slop?”

  “Don’t ask me,” Gabriel said, shrugging his shoulders as if the answer didn’t concern him. “All I know is that I was hired to deliver these seven barrels of slop to the English captain so he could take them out of Rouen and dump them into the Channel.”

  The French officer stared at Gabriel with a frown on his face, then placed his hand on the pistol at his waist. “You know what I think, monsieur? I think you are lying. I think you do not have slop in these barrels, but something else that you don’t want us to see.” The French officer pointed to the barrel they’d already moved to the cart. “Open it.”

  Gabriel stepped forward. “It’s slop. Can’t you smell that it is?”

  “What I smell could be in the bottom of your wagon to make us think the barrels are filled with slop. Open it!”

  Gabriel stepped back with a shake of his head. “You’ll regret it. The smell will make you sick.”

  The captain pointed to the barrel and gave Gabriel a final order to open it.

  Gabriel placed his hands on the lid and pulled. “It’s stuck.”

  “Help him,” the captain ordered the nearest sailor. Together they pried until the lid was partially off.

  “We almost have it,” Gabriel announced proudly. The rank odor of rotten garbage and human refuse already filled the air and the captain reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief to cover his nose.

  With a hard tug, Gabriel removed the lid, and at the same time slammed his hip against the side of the barrel so the rancid slop sloshed over the edge.

  “Damn you!” the captain bellowed as a wave of the horrific-smelling refuse splattered down the front of his neatly pressed uniform. “Damn you! I should have you—”

  “A thousand pardons, Captain, but it was stuck. I didn’t mean to be so careless. It was an accident, I assure you. The barrels are filled with slop as I said they were.”

  Gabriel pasted an apologetic look on his face as the French captain’s uniform dripped with the maggot-ridden, foul-smelling slop. “I will try to be more careful with the next barrel, Captain. Perhaps this one will not be so difficult to open.”

  “No! Get out of my sight. Then get this plague-infested wagon out of here.”

  The captain spun around to the soldiers who were having as hard a time as Gabriel keeping a straight face. “Make sure this imbecile gets these barrels loaded, then get him the hell out of here. Escort him out of the city and make sure he never comes back.”

  “Yes, sir,” they each said, struggling not to laugh as their commanding officer held his wet, putrid uniform away from his body and staggered down the dock.

  Working as quickly as possible, Gabriel helped the sailors from the Silver Star load the kegs onto the two carts and take them up the gangplank. The French soldiers followed Gabriel onto the deck of the ship, but kept a safe distance from the barrels. When the kegs were unloaded, the soldiers motioned for Gabriel to return to the wagon.

  He knew the soldiers wouldn’t leave until he did, so with only a cursory nod to Captain Faraday, he walked back down the gangplank and climbed aboard the wagon. With a smart slap of the reins against the horses’ backsides, he drove away from the Silver Star. Two soldiers rode escort until he was far away from the city and...

  ...from Lydia and the ship that could take him home.

  Chapter Nineteen

  She was going to die.

  Darkness surrounded her. Heavy, dank air engulfed her until she couldn’t breathe. She tried to convince herself the keg where she hid was the inside of a small curricle traveling through Hyde Park on a cloudy afternoon. But the longer she was there, the smaller the barrel seemed, the more confining. She gasped to take a breath but couldn’t fill her lungs. She was suffocating.

  She coiled into a tighter ball and clamped her hand over her mouth to stop the scream she felt building inside her.

  Dear God, let it be over. Let them be safely aboard the ship soon. Let Gabriel lift the lid so she could see. So she could breathe. So she could fall into his arms.

  The wagon stopped.

  She heard Gabriel’s muffled voice and counted to ten. Then twenty. Then higher. It wouldn’t be long now. Her heart raced in her breast. Excitement rose to a fevered pitch.

  The wagon shifted and she knew Gabriel had jumped from the wagon. Then it shifted more and she envisioned Gabriel moving the other barrels. It wouldn’t be long now.

  Finally, her barrel moved and she knew she was going aboard the Silver Star.

  For what seemed an eternity, she remained quiet and scrunched in the barrel, waiting for someone to lift the lid. Finally, someone turned her barrel and pried off the lid.

  Even though the sun was hidden behind a wall of clouds, the sudden brightness hurt her eyes.

  “Liddy?” a voice said from above her. “Are you all right?”

  It was Austin. She tried to stand but couldn’t. “I can’t move, Austin. My legs won’t work.”

  Her brother laughed and reached in to help her. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and held her close. When her legs were steady beneath her, he lifted her out of the barrel.

  She looked around to find Gabriel. She just needed to see him. Just needed to make sure he was all right.

  “Oh, Liddy,” Austin said, swinging her around in a circle. “We did it. Gabe’s plan worked.”

  She looked around again.

  Hannah was out of her barrel and sitting on a crate, fanning her face. Geoffrey was engaged in a serious conversation with Captain Faraday. And Austin still held her around the waist, supporting her as if he was afraid she’d fall.

  But Gabriel wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  Her breathing raced, her blood roared against her ears, her legs went weak beneath her. And the Silver Star rocked as the sailors released the vessel from its moorings and it sailed toward the Channel.

  “Where’s Gabriel, Austin?”

  “Don’t worry about Gabe, Liddy.”

  “Where is he?” she asked again, frantically combing the deck for sight of him.

  “Austin?”

  Austin anchored his hands at her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Gabe will be all right. He’ll get to us somehow.”

  She couldn’t believe what he’d just said. “He’s still back there?”

  Lydia ran to the starboard side of the ship and stared toward the harbor. “How is he going to get out of France?”

  “Liddy, don’t.”

  “Tell me! How is he going to get home?”

  “Captain Faraday had one of his men hide a small boat down the coast. We’re going to sail a couple of miles downstream and wait until midnight. If Gabe can get to the boat in time, he’ll row out and meet us.”

  “But the French have every inch of coastline guarded. He’ll never make it past them without gett
ing killed.”

  “If anyone can make it through French lines, Gabe can.”

  Every nerve in Lydia’s body trembled. She didn’t want him to risk his life for them—not again. Didn’t want him to be a hero. Didn’t want to learn to live without him—not again. She wanted him here, safe, with her.

  “What if he can’t get to us by midnight?”

  “Then he’ll go inland. Captain Faraday will return in two weeks.”

  “But they’ll be waiting for him. By then they’ll know what he’s done.”

  “Liddy, stop.”

  Austin held up his hand to silence her, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. For a long time neither of them spoke. When he did, his words chilled her to her bone.

  “How’d you let this happen?” he whispered.

  Lydia stiffened against him.

  “Gabe told you he couldn’t marry you. Nothing has changed. Father signed an agreement with the Duke of Chisolmwood that you would marry his son. You don’t have a choice in this.” Austin swiped his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Neither does Gabe. Neither of you did from the beginning.”

  “Why? Because Gabriel doesn’t have a title?” She hardened the look she gave him. “Because you don’t think he loves me?”

  Austin gave a harsh laugh. “Hell. Anyone with two eyes can see he loves you. But love isn’t enough. It never has been.”

  “Why, then?”

  “Don’t, Liddy.”

  “Why!”

  Austin couldn’t hold her gaze. “There are reasons. I’d give anything if you and Gabe hadn’t been caught in the middle of this, but you’re the ones who will pay.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, because she didn’t.

  Austin ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “I know you don’t. You have to marry Culbertson. It’s been arranged. Gabe can’t marry you. It’s not possible.”

  She staggered away from her brother and leaned against the ship’s railing. The French coastline was behind them, growing more distant by the minute. She searched for a small boat sailing toward them, a boat carrying Gabriel. But she saw nothing. Only the vast expanse of water, land and sky. Without Gabriel anywhere in it.