“When will you receive this good news?” she asked. Perhaps he would tell her the time of the meeting. What else could he be talking about besides getting the money to right his estate and support her?
“I'm expecting it any minute.” He released her. “I'll find you again the moment I have news, and hopefully you’ll have an answer for me.” Stepping back from her, he finally walked through the door and toward the gardens as if he was in a hurry.
She made to follow him, but another gentleman approached the doorway, wearing all black except for a white mask. He blocked Alice’s path. “My lady, your father has asked that you stay close to my side this evening for your protection. I wouldn’t want to disappoint him. Perhaps you’d like to dance?”
“Of course. But Lord Pembroke . . . ” Alice glanced back at the garden where Pembroke had disappeared.
“Never fear, Lord Pembroke will be taken care of,” he said smoothly, overriding her objection.
She nodded, but furrowed her brow as she took his arm. The man seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Her father hadn’t introduced her to many Falcon Group agents in order to keep her position secret, but maybe she’d seen him with her father before.
She looked over the gentleman’s shoulder as they walked to the middle of the room, hoping to catch Christian’s eye, but he was on the far side of the ballroom, speaking to a footman. Her father had assured her that Pembroke would be watched carefully all evening, and he obviously was concerned enough for her safety he’d sent this agent to her side. She had to trust his experience in these matters.
The unknown gentleman led her to a corner of the dance floor as the strains of a quadrille began. Getting into position, she tried to look closer at her partner’s face. His mask covered the top half, revealing only his nose and lips. His eyes were dark and watchful, darting around the room. He was large in stature, though, and Alice was sure she would have remembered him if he’d been a guest at the house party, been in the stables, or posing as a footman. Why did he seem so familiar and yet unknown at the same time?
The music began and her partner squeezed her hand, nearly crushing her fingers as they started the first formation. Flexing her wrist, she stared at the buttons on his jacket as she walked with him toward the other couple in their square. Something was pulling at the back of her mind. Where had she seen those buttons before? The style was more like a large bead than a button.
After performing another turn, he pulled her improperly close to his side. Needing some distance, she pushed back, but the man had a death grip on her waist. He stumbled over a step, nearly stomping on her foot.
“My lady, it’s not safe. Your father has just given me the signal and I must get you to our prearranged meeting place immediately,” he said, his voice soft in her ear. “We must hurry.”
Alice tried to twist her head to see her father or Christian. Something was wrong. But the agent didn’t allow her any space, quickly making their excuses to the other couples in the square and hurrying her to the door that led to the gardens. Everything inside her was screaming not to let him take her outside. She tried to stop their forward progress by pressing her slippers to the floor and refusing to walk, but her strength was no match for his and he easily lifted her weight with one arm. Fear curled through her veins.
He looked back at her, his dark eyes angry and brooding through his mask. “If you want to live, my lady, come quietly now.”
When she felt the press of a gun in her ribs, Alice bit back the protest on her lips. Glancing down, she saw he held a single shot flintlock pistol. Was it coincidence that he had the same gun used in the shooting at the ball in London?
Her stomach sank to her toes as he marched her through the doorway. With the gun in her side, she had no choice but to accompany him out into the night.
Chapter Fourteen
CHRISTIAN HAD WANTED to be at the bottom of the stairs to claim Alice the moment she arrived, but he patiently― though if the tapping of his foot was any indication, rather impatiently― waited for her to appear in the ballroom. When he saw her in the doorway, he resisted the urge to go to her immediately. Her gold dress she wore set her apart, hinting at her daring in being part of the Falcon group, yet the jewels that sparkled in her hair and at her neck accentuated her class and position. She fully owned all parts of herself tonight, and he wanted to share in that.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her, and when she smiled at him, he didn’t hold himself back any longer. He had to be near her. The moment he’d kissed her hand, the musicians had struck up a waltz, and it was as if the universe was supporting his bid to win this woman’s heart. He’d held her closer than he possibly should have, but when she was in his arms, he’d known that they were meant to be partners in every way. Always.
As soon as the dance had ended and Pembroke approached them, Christian had reluctantly relinquished her. The mission was before them, and while there was danger, Christian was determined to stay close and keep Alice as safe as possible. He watched her dancing with Pembroke, their heads bending together whenever the dance steps brought them close. The conversation seemed somewhat serious and Christian wished he could hear what they were saying.
As the dance ended and Pembroke had drawn her toward the terrace doors, Christian had been at the ready should he need to intervene. Alice didn’t seem alarmed, though Christian had nearly given in to the urge to plant Pembroke a facer when he was kissing Alice’s hands and looked like he might kiss her lips as well. But Christian had stayed back. It was a relief when Pembroke left her alone. Alice was safe for the moment. He watched another man ask for a dance, but before he could ascertain his identity, a footman approached him.
“My lord, you’ve just received an urgent message,” the man said, holding out a folded piece of parchment.
Pulling his eyes away from Alice, Christian impatiently took off his mask, anxious to have his full peripheral vision available. He unfolded the somewhat stained and crumpled paper and saw that he had a drawing in his hands.
The enclosed message was from the artist he’d hired to draw a rendering of the man Ewen the mudlark had seen at Thomas’s murder scene. Ewen says this is as close to a likeness as he can remember. I hope it is helpful in your search, my lord, the paper read.
Christian had almost given up on getting anything more from the mudlark the day he’d spoken to Nash and heard the skepticism in his voice that Ewen could get past his fear enough to describe the man he’d seen. He’d still sent the artist in the hopes that Nash would convince him. Apparently he had.
Staring down at the drawing, Christian looked for any resemblance to Pembroke, but there wasn’t one. The man depicted wasn’t Pembroke, but he had some similar features, to be sure. There was something familiar about him, though.
Where had he seen him before?
And then he remembered. The man he’d met in the hallway. Coming out of Pembroke’s room before Christian could search it.
The man in the drawing was Pembroke’s valet.
All the pieces of the puzzle began clicking into place. A valet was privy to a nobleman’s deepest secrets. He had access to correspondence and could overhear conversations from his trusted position. Alice had been right all along. Pembroke was innocent. And they were watching the wrong man tonight.
His eyes darted around the ballroom, past all the dresses that weren’t gold. Alice wasn’t on the dance floor or the outskirts. Nor was she at the refreshment table. His gut clenched, fear forming like a lead ball in his stomach. She’d accepted a dance with another man when he’d gotten the message. A tall, blonde man, if he recalled correctly. If that was Pembroke’s valet, she could be in trouble. He needed to alert the duke.
Striding back to the entryway where the duke and duchess were speaking to some guests, he hurried to their side. The duke looked up and immediately made his way to Christian. “What is it?”
“I’ve just received a message from one of my informants.” He pulled out the drawing and
showed it to the duke. “This is a rendering of the man who I believe murdered Thomas Norwich and is our traitor. It’s Pembroke’s valet. He was last seen in Alice’s company, but they have both disappeared.” His heart pounded against his ribs. Where was she? Was she hurt?
The duke put his hand on Christian’s shoulder. “I have guards at all the entrances and agents in every part of the house and stables. We’ll find her.” He went back to his wife and whispered in her ear. She paled, but nodded.
Coming back to Christian’s side, the duke led the way to the terrace with Christian on his heels. Once they were outside, Christian made note of the couples quietly talking. None of them were Alice. The torch lights led down to gardens, where he could see some shadows moving through the darkness. But Langdon Park was an extensive estate. They needed a plan to search effectively.
“Where would he have taken her?” Christian asked, panic surging in him. He had to tamp down his emotions and think critically. Her life might depend on it. This man had already made two attempts to kill her. Christian clenched his fists. He had to find her before the unthinkable happened.
The duke touched his shoulder as if reading his thoughts. “Alice is armed and has a cool head in difficult situations. We just need to find her.”
Christian remembered her crouching in Pembroke’s room, her dagger at the ready and the bands of worry squeezing his lungs unwound a bit. “I think we need to separate to cover more ground. What if you check the gardens? I’ll check the stables.”
The duke was scanning the area around them. “I had several agents on the terrace as well as the perimeter of the garden, but I don’t see any of them now.” A thread of worry crept into his voice. “Perhaps they’re on her trail and we just need to catch up.” He headed down the stone steps into the garden. “I’ll send word the moment I find them.”
Christian hoped the duke was right, and that Alice would be found momentarily. He took the gravel path that led to the stables, his long strides eating up the ground. When he burst into the stable, the groom near the door jumped back.
“Can I help you, my lord?” the man asked, quickly tugging on his forelock.
“I'm looking for the Earl of Pembroke,” Christian announced, pacing up and down, looking into the stalls and corners, anywhere the valet could have hidden Alice. “Is his carriage still here?”
“No, my lord. The earl left a while back with Lady Alice and his valet.” The groom’s cheeks reddened. “He weren’t feeling well.”
Christian stepped closer to the man, concern for Alice’s safety taking hold of him again. “What do you mean he wasn’t well?”
“His valet was nearly holding the earl up. Said he’d had too much to drink and embarrassed himself. The lady was kind enough to offer to help sober him up so they could return to the party.” The groom moved back. “I hope I haven’t spoken out of turn.”
Pembroke must have been drugged. That was the only explanation. At least Alice seemed to be well for the moment. “No, you haven’t spoken out of turn. Did the valet say where he was taking the earl?” Christian needed to find them before the situation turned any more dangerous than it already was.
The groom shifted his weight from foot to foot. “No, my lord. But the coachman was unhappy to be ordered about by a valet. He’d been told to keep the carriage hitched for the earl so he could take a meeting tonight and be back before the ball was over. The coachman grumbled loud and long to all of us about having to drive an hour away to the Rose and Crown.”
That had to be where the meeting to sell the agent list was going to take place. “You need to inform the duke,” he said to the groom.
“Yes, my lord.” But before the groom could move past him, they heard shouts coming from the side of the stables. The tension Christian was feeling ratcheted up. Had the duke found something?
They walked around the corner in time to see the duke carrying another man over his shoulders. “We need to get him inside.” Several stable hands came out to help lower the unconscious man to the ground. “He’s been shot and his partner as well.” The duke leaned over, his hands on his knees. “Someone call for my physician. Immediately.”
Christian clenched his fists. He turned on his heel and went back into the stable. He needed to saddle Prince immediately. Pembroke’s valet had a gun and had already shot two men. He’d probably threatened Alice as well to get her to leave with him. Rage fired his blood. The man obviously had planned this operation down to the smallest detail and expected to get away with it.
But Christian would die before he let that happen.
He had to get to Alice.
Chapter Fifteen
ALICE SAT BACK IN HER carriage seat. She’d been shocked when Pembroke’s valet had removed his mask and she’d recognized him. So many things made sense now― and her instinct that Pembroke was innocent had been right. If only she could have gotten a message to Christian. But with a gun at her back, Alice had to go along with whatever the valet had planned.
Her gaze landed on Pembroke. He was in the corner of the coach, his hands tied and a gag in his mouth. He was moaning and barely conscious.
“What have you done to him?” Alice asked, proud that her voice didn’t waver. She carefully removed her mask and put it next to her leg.
“With the blow to the head and the tincture he was given, he should have been felled like an oak. Obviously my brother should have hit him harder or given him more,” the valet grumbled, wrinkling his nose. Pembroke groaned and his eyes rolled back in his head. His valet just gave him another disdainful look. “Pompous fool.”
Grateful she hadn’t been gagged and tied, she rubbed her arms as gooseflesh appeared over her skin. The night was chilly, and the silk did nothing to protect her against the cold or the fear pricking her heart. Since they’d left the ball, Pembroke’s valet had shot both agents trying to stop them from getting to the stables, then turned the gun toward her. She’d held her hands up in surrender. The valet had collected Pembroke’s nearly unconscious form by the back gate, and then they’d hurried to the stables where the carriage was waiting. She still couldn’t get the smell of blood and gunpowder out of her nose. “Why are you doing this? Are you hoping for ransom?”
“It’s not just about the money. You nobs are always playing with people’s lives, and don’t think about anyone but yourselves. Servants are nothing more than chattel to be used, then thrown away like rubbish.” He scowled at Pembroke, gripping the gun tighter. Alarm was growing in Alice’s heart. Judging from the bloodlust in his eyes, he planned to kill them both.
“If you’re unhappy in your position with Lord Pembroke, I could speak to my father. Perhaps find a place for you at Langdon Park,” she offered.
He let out a bitter laugh. “It’s not about position, you fool! My family, most especially my mother, have suffered every indignity because of people like you.” He turned in the seat, his gun pointing toward her. Alice tried to quell the fear, looking at his face instead of the gun.
“What happened to your family?” She kept her voice soft, hoping to calm his rage, maybe make him see reason.
He stared at her for a moment, pressing a hand to his temple. “My little brother went off to war, proud to serve his country. Wellington himself saw how fleet of foot he was and used him to track enemy troop movements. But my brother wasn’t quick enough and ended up with his throat slit behind enemy lines.” The valet’s voice shook and he lifted the gun to Pembroke’s heart. “All my mother got was a letter of regret from the army and ‘Your country thanks you for your sacrifice’—but they killed him!”
“Your brother died honorably, helping to win the war. Many mothers received the same letter.” The knife was in the hidden sheath at her waist, but it wouldn’t protect her against a gun. But if she could keep him talking until he met with his buyer, there might be a chance to somehow foil the sale of the list. She needed to try.
“My brother was expendable. The son of a gardener. Who would miss a servant?
They thought no one would care, but I’m going to make them care,” he snarled.
The coach came to a stop, and the valet looked over at her. “I’m going to escort you into the inn, just the same as we went to the stables. We are helping the Earl of Pembroke in his time of need.” He opened the door. “And if you try to run or ask for help, remember that I have no good will toward British Intelligence Officers or the upper classes at the moment. I will shoot you, then perhaps leave you behind in a field like they did my brother.”
Alice shivered at the image, but inclined her head. “I understand.” She didn’t plan to antagonize him. This was the chance Falcon Group had been waiting for since the moment Thomas had been killed, and she had a chance to finish the mission.
The valet shouldered Pembroke’s weight, as if he were helping his drunk master find his bed, as they made their way across the inn’s courtyard. As they walked toward the entrance of the inn, a man dismounted from his horse and came to them immediately. With his similar features, it was easy to see he was the brother the valet had spoken of who had struck Pembroke and given him a tincture. And since he was wearing an apron and walked like he owned the property, it seemed he was the innkeeper here.
The brother stopped in front of them. “Jasper.” He looked at her, then turned his face and lowered his voice. “I made sure that one of the girls readied your usual bedchamber upstairs for you with a private parlor. Lock them in the chamber for safekeeping, and then you can wait for our . . . um . . . guest, in the parlor. I'll bring you something to drink.”
Ah, the valet’s name was Jasper. Alice filed that information away. Jasper grunted his assent and readjusted Pembroke’s weight before he headed for the stairs, motioning for her to walk in front of him. She could feel several patrons’ eyes on her, but she ducked her head, not wanting to meet their eyes. Alice needed to stay close to Jasper.
The Marquess Meets His Match Page 12
