by Laura Landon
In an expert show of horsemanship, LeBrouche righted himself and swung his sword through the air. Thankfully, he’d turned his attention away from Liddy and to him.
LeBrouche’s sword missed Gabriel’s torso by inches and instead caught the tip of his rifle. The rifle flew out of his hands and landed on the ground, too far away from him to reach.
Gabe staggered. He could make a dive for his weapon, but knew he’d never reach it in time. As if LeBrouche realized the same thing, the corners of his mouth lifted to form a sadistic smile.
Gabe didn’t move, but watched LeBrouche lift his rifle.
There was no place to go. No chance to escape this final attack.
The Frenchman took aim at Gabe’s chest.
Before he had time to pull the trigger, a loud explosion echoed in the air. LeBrouche turned in disbelief to where Liddy stood with a rifle in her hands. He wore an incredulous expression as he focused first on her, then the dark circle staining the sleeve of his jacket. Anger changed his expression and he shifted his aim to Liddy.
Gabe lunged for his rifle, rolled, and fired. LeBrouche’s chest opened and he fell to the ground.
Gabe struggled to his feet and listened. Everything was quiet.
Liddy stood in the back of the wagon, her face pale, her fingers gripping the rifle.
He walked to her and held out his hands. "Give me the rifle, Liddy."
She lowered her gaze to the gun in her hands and stared at it in confusion. She wore the same empty look he’d seen so often on the faces of young soldiers after their first battle.
"Give me the gun," he repeated.
She slowly handed over the gun. He placed it on the ground and lifted his arms. "Come down, now."
She studied his outstretched arms a second before leaning toward him.
He clasped his hands around her waist and lowered her to the ground. "It wasn’t your bullet that killed LeBrouche, Liddy. It was mine."
She nodded. "I know. But...I’ve never shot anyone before."
"And you never will again. I promise you."
She laughed a hollow laugh. "Austin told me to squeeze the trigger but make sure I didn’t hit you."
Gabe smiled. "I’m glad you followed his advice."
She looked up at him. There was a pleading look in her eyes. "Could you hold me for little while? I need you, Gabe."
He nestled her close and wrapped his arms around her.
"I’m afraid when I’m not with you."
"I’m here, Liddy. I’ll always be here for you. Always."
He held her closer and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. When he opened his eyes, his gaze locked with the Marquess of Culbertson’s dark, knowing gaze.
Gabriel slowly pulled Liddy from his embrace and brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. When she hesitated to step out of his arms, he said, "You need to check on Austin."
She nodded and walk around him. He was glad she didn’t turn to see Culbertson standing behind her. Glad she didn’t see the heated expression on his face.
"Well done, Major Talbot," Culbertson said when he was close. "This is the second time I owe you my life."
Gabe ignored Culbertson’s comment. He was doing his job. Nothing more. "Are you all right?" he asked, noticing a streak of blood on Culbertson’s arm.
"A scratch, nothing more."
"You’d better have Lady Lydia look at it."
"Yes, she is rather good at nursing, isn’t she? She did any excellent job in your case, I understand."
Culbertson’s last statement didn’t require an answer and he offered none. He watched the marquess walk to the wagon then followed him. "Morgan, drag the bodies behind those bushes, then pull the wagon where it won’t be seen. We’ll stay here tonight."
"Yes, Major."
He watched Morgan drag the first body, then turned to where Hannah sat in the wagon. "Hannah, could I see you for a minute?"
"Yes, Major."
He found his cane and walked a few feet from the wagon, just far enough so they were out of sight. He leaned his back against a tree and swiped the perspiration from his face. Everything spun around him and he slid to the ground.
"Are you all right, Major?"
"I need you to get some water, and bandages, and that salve you used on Captain Landwell."
He lowered his head to his knees as the world shifted beneath him. He tried to hold onto consciousness but knew he was losing the battle.
___
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious, just as he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten from a heap beneath a tree by the stream to close to the wagon. But when he opened his eyes, he was on a makeshift bed and Liddy was sitting on the ground beside him. Austin and Culbertson were watching from near by.
The sun was low in the sky, its golden rays cascading around Liddy like a halo, the shimmering sunlight deepening the color of her face, and tinting her hair with streaks of gold. He’d never seen anyone more beautiful. Couldn’t imagine there was an angel in heaven to equal her. And the features of her face, the upward tilt of her nose, her high cheekbones, her full lips, all of her, sculptured to perfection. All except her unmistakable anger. And it was directed toward him.
He smiled. "I see I need to offer an apology," he said trying to mask the pain in his side.
Her lips pursed tighter, her eyes narrowed. "Don’t you ever frighten me like that again."
"You’re in for it now, Gabe," Austin said with a wide grin on his face. "Liddy’s been in a state since they carried you back."
"I’m sorry," he whispered. "The next time I lose consciousness I’ll make sure to give you fair warning."
"I don’t mean that, you... you..." She slapped her thigh in frustration. "You conceited imbecile. Why didn’t you tell me you’d been shot?"
"It slipped my mind."
"Liar!"
"Actually, I was thinking about one or two other things at the moment."
"No, you weren’t, Major. You weren’t thinking at all! If you had been, you would have realized that you needed help. Or didn’t you think I was capable of dealing with a little blood?"
"You’d seen quite enough blood already. I didn’t want to add mine to your—"
"Oh, how thoughtful," she hissed, and he knew she didn’t mean anything of the sort. "What do you think I am? Some hothouse flower that needs to be pampered?" She slashed an arm through the air in frustration. "Some spoiled brat who’s been waited on hand and foot?"
He thought the wisest course was to not answer, but that only seemed to fan the flames of her temper more.
"Then, you don’t know me, Major."
"I know I owe you an apology. I’m sorry." He lifted his gaze to where Culbertson seemed to be watching Liddy’s reaction with extreme interest. He needed to shift the marquess’s attention away from Liddy’s concern. "Has it been quiet?"
Culbertson nodded. "Morgan’s kept watch, but it doesn’t seem as if any more soldiers are following."
"I doubt any will," Gabe responded, "until they realize LeBrouche hasn’t returned. Hopefully, by then we’ll be on our way back to England."
"We’ll need to get an early start, then," Culbertson said. He moved his gaze to Liddy. "I believe Hannah’s made a place for you in the wagon. It would be my pleasure to escort you there."
Liddy gave Gabe another scorching glare before she accepted Culbertson’s offer.
The marquess placed Liddy’s hand atop his arm then rested his fingers over hers. The gesture was a blatant show of proprietorship.
When they were gone, Gabe pushed himself up and leaned against the wagon wheel. The stitch in his side ached, but he ignored it.
"Will you be all right?" Austin asked.
"I’ve had worse and survived."
"I wasn’t talking about your side."
Gabe rested his head against the rough boards of the wagon and closed his eyes. "Leave me alone."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Go."
Gabe list
ened 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 18
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 opening 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 dozens of 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 arrived 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 side 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.
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.
