The baker emerged from a back room. His apron and hands were dusted with flour, and his face flushed with the heat from the ovens. “What can I do for you and your missus, sir?”
“A loaf of white and two sticky buns,” Garrick said. The man nodded, but before he turned away, Garrick added. “London is harsh this time of year, is it not?”
The innocuous comment wiped the smile from the baker’s face. Without replying, he disappeared into the back room. When he returned, the bread and buns were wrapped in paper. Garrick pressed coins into the baker’s palm. The man didn’t bother to count them, only slipped them into a pocket on his apron.
“Anything else, sir?”
“Nothing. Thank you for your service.” Garrick and the man exchanged a nod on Garrick’s way out the door.
“Let’s find out how passable the coffee is.” He led them to the inn. The common room was warm and smoky and welcoming. Even better, the coffee was better than passable. The strong, hot brew sharpened his senses.
Garrick passed Victoria a sticky bun while he bit into his. It was delicious. Smoothing the wrapping, Garrick ran a practiced eye over the message written in tiny coded letters along the side. It wasn’t a difficult cipher. Garrick crumpled the paper and tossed it into the flames, watching it flare.
Something didn’t feel right. He had expected to come across evidence of men tracking them, but even on their headlong rush through London to the cottage, he hadn’t sensed anyone following them.
“Your father received my warning but found nothing amiss at the London residence. As a precaution, your parents have set off for the house party a day early, and I’m to deliver you to them at Danbury. From there, you will travel to the Barclay’s manor with no one the wiser.” He took a sip of coffee and looked at her over the rim of his cup.
“No one the wiser to the attack or the fact we engaged in carnal relations?”
He sputtered on a swallow, the coffee burning his lungs.
She smiled sweetly before taking a bite of her roll. A dollop of glaze was at the corner of her mouth, and she swiped her tongue over the bit of sweetness. His knees felt unsteady even though he was sitting.
“You mustn’t say such things,” he whispered.
“Pardon me. I forgot we were ignoring it ever happened.”
Her needling worked to make him feel even worse. “You understand why it must remain our secret.”
She popped the last bite of sticky bun into her mouth and stared him down for what felt like an eternity. “Of course. Our secret.”
“I’m going to see about transportation.” He stood and made his escape.
The cold air was a slap in the face. He had ruined everything. Things would never be the same between them. She would become another man’s wife, and he would be forced to watch it unfold from outside Sir Hawkins’s study door. His life would be a living hell. A sickly combination of anger and despair churned his stomach.
One thing became clear. He must leave Sir Hawkins’s employ. With Sir Hawkins’s backing and the coin he’d saved, Garrick could buy a commission and become an officer on the front lines instead of a shadowy figure behind the machinations. The simplicity of charging into battle to kill or be killed held its attractions.
After shaking himself out of his stupor, he spoke with the stable master. The sun was bright overhead, and the sound of melting snow dripping from eaves was all around them. The yard had turned into a slushy, muddy mess. According to the stable master, the roads were worse, and progress would be slow in a coach.
Garrick didn’t want to remain in the village any longer than necessary, and traveling in a slow-moving carriage would make them easy targets. The only option was to proceed on horseback. Luckily, Victoria was an experienced rider. The weather would make the journey miserable, but she had borne worse with little complaint.
While the stable master readied a sturdy mare for hire, Garrick returned to collect Victoria. Lost in thought and unaware of his approach, she stared into the flames of the hearth, her profile solemn.
The urge to draw her into a comforting embrace made his muscles twitch. Instead, he cleared his throat. “The snow is melting, albeit slowly.”
“What is the condition of the road?” She didn’t favor him with a glance.
“A combination of mud and slush. Coach travel will be difficult. We’ll have to continue on horseback. A mare is being saddled for you now.”
She nodded. “I’ve been thinking.”
He braced himself. “About us?”
Now she turned the full force of her attention on him, sitting back in the chair and crossing her arms over her chest. “As a matter of fact, no. About the men who tried to take me.”
Garrick took the seat next to her. “What are your thoughts?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you only pretending to be interested in what I think to placate me?”
“You are your father’s daughter. I don’t underestimate the quickness of your mind, and I’m interested in everything you have to say.”
She blinked rapidly then let her hands fall to her lap. “You must quit saying such things. It only makes it more difficult.”
“Why? It’s the truth.”
“Because no other man of my acquaintance—not even Father—cares about what I want and even less about what I think.” She sighed. “But I will lament over that when I have the luxury of time for a good cry. Right now we must concentrate on why those men wanted to abduct me.”
“To get to your father.”
“To blackmail him into doing something against the Crown’s interest?”
“That would be a solid assumption.”
“But how did those men know I would be leaving the town house yesterday evening? Alone. I only decided on a plan of action that afternoon after I visited Eleanor.”
“I assume you went through the mews to visit Lady Eleanor as I didn’t see you.” At her nod, he asked, “Who crossed your path, even if it was for a moment?”
“A groomsman. Annie accompanied me of course.”
“Of course she was involved,” he said dryly. “I assume you trust her implicitly?”
“I do, and so do you, or she wouldn’t be employed in our household.”
While Victoria was correct, anyone could be turned if offered the right incentive. “Does she have a suitor? Perhaps a handsome footman placed in a nearby household swayed her with pretty words and cajoled information without her even realizing she was betraying you.”
“Is that what you are trained to do? Cajole women out of their secrets?” The jab was well-placed, with the force of enough truth to sting.
“What prompted your hastened visit to Lady Eleanor?” he asked.
“A note from Lord Berkwith passed to me through the milliner.”
“Why her?”
“It was at Lord Berkwith’s recommendation. A lady visiting the milliner raises few suspicions. I was most often the go-between because I am afforded far more freedom than Eleanor.”
“That’s because even in your schemes, you exhibit a certain amount of care. Usually.”
“I was careful this time. I went well disguised.”
“Not careful enough.”
“So it seems.” She ran a finger along her lower lip, and he followed the path with his gaze, wishing he could lean in and do the same with his tongue. Then he’d—
She whipped around and caught him staring at her mouth. He averted his eyes and picked at the dirt along his cuffs as if he actually cared.
“What does Father preach?” she asked finally.
“Never leave a man alive who can recognize you?”
She sputtered unintelligible words before saying in a shocked whisper, “I’ve never heard him say such a thing.”
He leaned back and crossed his arms. “I think our lessons might have covered different topics. What wisdom did your father impart to you?”
“Don’t assume anything.”
Garrick had heard Hawkins utter the words so
many times they hardly registered anymore, but now he applied them to their situation.
“All right, let’s toss the assumption the attempted abduction has anything to do with your father. Do you have enemies? A gentleman scorned? A lady jealous?”
She barked a laugh. “None that I know of. I’m not lofty enough to gain such notoriety nor pretty enough to attract notice from anyone of import.”
“Balderdash. You are beautiful and intelligent and any man who isn’t besotted with you is an idiot.” He took one of her hands in both of his and caressed the back with his thumbs.
It was exactly the sort of gesture he should be avoiding, because it made him want to touch her everywhere. He dropped her hand and rubbed his palms down the legs of his breeches, as if he would ever be able to erase the feel of her skin on his. His little speech was not helping him lock his heart away. He was basically gift wrapping it and offering it on one knee.
“Or maybe not,” he said mulishly.
She raised her eyebrows. “Maybe they aren’t idiots? Or maybe I’m not beautiful and intelligent?”
An apology stumbled out of his mouth, but when his gaze met hers, her eyes were twinkling with a teasing merriment that was dearly familiar. Some of his dread dissipated. Their second moment of insanity—perhaps hour of insanity was more accurate—hadn’t destroyed their friendship.
Garrick didn’t have many boon companions. Any boon companions. The men and women who worked under Hawkins were chess pieces, never fully realized as people. Garrick was as unknowable to them. He was merely Hawkins’s shadow.
To trust was to commit a sin. Nonetheless, Garrick trusted Victoria. Yet another sin he’d committed with her.
“If you have no enemies, it brings us back around to our original theory.”
“Not quite.” She tapped her forefinger on her lips. “It was, after all, Eleanor who was supposed to be there. However, the likeliest suspect in her abduction would be Lord Berkwith, and he was incapacitated by the men.”
“Unless he wanted to make it look like he hadn’t hired them.”
“But why would it matter at that point? If Eleanor had made an appearance, his assumption would be that she was willing to elope.”
“Except she wasn’t, was she? If you hadn’t taken her place, she was planning to deny him, correct?”
“I suppose, although I believe he could have swayed her to accept him.” She shook her head. “What a tangle.”
“We can work on unraveling it while we travel. Are you ready?” He rose and tugged on his gloves, considering her. He took his hat and dropped it on her head. “Wear this. I will be cannon fodder if I return you to your mother sunburned.”
They ducked into the cold sunshine. The mare was waiting next to a mounting block. Victoria adjusted the bulk of her padding and hauled herself into the sidesaddle. Their horses trudged along the muddy lane. The winds were calm under the sunny skies, and while it was cold, it wasn’t brutally uncomfortable. He attuned himself to their surroundings, but nothing seemed amiss.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Nothing. No one has followed us that I can tell.” He shifted toward her in the saddle. “Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
“You don’t have faith in your ability to evade miscreants?” She shot him a small smile. “Could it be we are assigning motives where there are none? What if the men were merely opportunists and unaware of my identity? Not so farfetched a coincidence, considering the area of London.”
Garrick harrumphed. He didn’t believe in coincidence. One did not abduct Sir Hawkins’s only child without an eye to the consequences. The entire might of the British underground network would be brought to heel in order to locate her, and no quarter would be given. The risk was great. What reward had they hoped to gain?
Would Sir Hawkins betray his country and honor to save his daughter? Garrick had seen him sacrifice others without a moment’s remorse, and he thanked the gods Sir Hawkins hadn’t been tested.
The journey passed pleasantly enough. They discussed favorite foods and theater productions.
“I didn’t know you enjoyed the theater.” Victoria’s smile was one of surprised delight.
“I attend matinees on the odd afternoon with the rest of the rabble.”
“So do I!” Her huff dimmed her surprise. “You follow me on my trips to the theater.”
While it was a statement, he answered, “I do, but only as a safeguard. I’ve come to enjoy the outings as much as you. There were many times I had to stop myself from discussing the productions with you.”
“I’m not sure how to feel. Grateful or resentful.” The squelch of mud under hooves filled her pondering silence. Finally, she said, “We could have gone together. So much wasted time.”
Her conclusion startled him. He’d assumed her resentment revolved around his encroaching on her independence. If he dwelled on their squandered time, he might go around the bend. Instead, he kept his voice light. “Tell me about the books you enjoy.”
Victoria told him about the books she’d been reading, and he told her about funny things that had happened to him in service for her father. He didn’t talk about the bad, not because she wouldn’t understand but because he feared she would offer him comfort he would be hard-pressed to deny.
Dusk was falling when the edge of Danbury came into view. Larger than Upton Heath, it would be easy enough for Victoria to arrive unnoticed and join her parents.
When the inn came into view, Garrick nudged his chin. “You go on. I’ll keep watch over you from here. If you need me, I’ll come.”
Their gazes melded for one long, agonizing moment. “I’ll always need you, Thomas.”
She nudged her horse forward, dragging his beleaguered heart behind her.
Chapter 8
Riding away from Thomas sundered her heart. It was the end of a chapter. A cliffhanger, at that. Victoria had no clue what came next. Was it to be a farce, a tragedy, or a romance?
Victoria stepped into the inn. Her mother and father were in heated conversation at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the rooms. With a tight mouth, her mother glanced toward the door, and Victoria was met by a blank face.
Dear Lord, Victoria had forgotten about the extra padding and horrendous dress. Perhaps it would be best if she didn’t take off Thomas’s hat. She stepped forward and cleared her throat. Her mother’s eyes widened, and she said something that had her father whirling around. He took her in head to toe. The corners of his mouth quirked as he approached her.
The almost smile was shocking enough. The kiss he laid on her cheek was absolutely astonishing. “I should have known,” he murmured before slipping out of the door, presumably to discuss matters with Thomas.
What should he have known? Could he see the imprint of Garrick hands and mouth and…? Her cheeks heated and banished the chill of the ride.
Her mother whisked her up the stairs and into a cozy, well-appointed room decorated in blue brocade. A stand with a white-and-blue porcelain basin and pitcher stood next to a bed piled high with blankets. A fire had been laid, and an emerald-green velvet chair stood in the corner.
“What on earth are you wearing?” Her mother’s first question a surprise.
Victoria had expected an interrogation about her almost kidnapping and her night alone with Thomas. Or even inquiries about her emotional and physical well-being. Not curiosity about her attire.
“A dress.” Victoria tossed Thomas’s hat on the bed. She wasn’t usually so recalcitrant, but the past twenty-four hours had been life changing. Except, she wasn’t sure anything would actually change in her life. Her mother would still expect her to pick a husband at the house party.
“I have been too lenient with you.” Her mother’s tone took on a glacial edge. “You’ve been allowed too much independence. I’m afraid it’s ruined you.”
Although her mother didn’t mean ruination by fornication, a weary laugh popped out of Victoria.
“This is no l
aughing matter. We must hope Lady Eleanor and Lord Berkwith stay silent on your scandalous behavior.”
“Considering they would be implicating themselves if they speak of it, I’m sure they will remain quiet. Anyway, Eleanor is my friend.”
“A friend would not have allowed you to meet with a man unescorted and unprotected.” Her mother’s severity quashed any humor Victoria felt. “If whispers of your indiscretion turn into shouts, you won’t have a choice but to marry Lord Berkwith, and none of us want that.”
Revulsion turned Victoria’s insides to mush. For one thing, she had no interest in a popinjay like Lord Berkwith. Even worse though, was the fact Eleanor fancied herself in love with him, and Victoria wedding him would be the ultimate betrayal.
“How is Eleanor? Did you speak with her?”
“She was nearly hysterical and took to her bed, but the Stanfields are still planning to attend the house party.” She harrumphed. “Unless they have locked Lady Eleanor away.”
“Perhaps Lord Berkwith will offer for Eleanor.” The earnestness in the lord’s eyes had swayed her opinion of him, but did he truly love Eleanor? Or was she simply a pretty, pliable, suitable lady with a very attractive dowry?
“Men like Berkwith only care about what someone can do for them. Eleanor is a sweet girl. She deserves better than to be saddled with a man like him.” It was perhaps the most honest conversation Victoria had ever had with her mother about the nature of love and marriage.
“Why did you marry Father?” The question popped out, and by the way her mother’s eyebrows rose, it surprised them both.
“From the moment I met your father, I recognized his intelligence and ambition. I was ambitious too.” Something similar to her father’s rock-hard fortitude shimmered in her mother like the reflection on a lake. Perhaps they weren’t as ill-suited as Victoria had assumed.
Victoria had never considered her mother ambitious, but she supposed it depended on one’s viewpoint. Her mother had been the daughter of a country squire. Now she was the wife of a man who had earned a knighthood and was welcomed along the edges of society. If Victoria made a good marriage, the Hawkins family might be accepted into the heart of the ton.
A Scandalous Secret: Spies and Lovers Page 9
