The Trouble with Love (The Mason Siblings Series Book 2)

by Cheri Champagne

  Nearly as quickly as she let go, she landed in Jones’ arms with a winded oof.

  “Are you well?” he asked in an undertone.

  “I believe so.” Though her heart rate would suggest otherwise. “I’m sorry I tore the costume.”

  He lowered her to the ground, holding a hand out to ensure that she regained her balance.

  “Think nothing of the costume,” he said briskly. “We must leave. They will be searching for us. Come.” He turned and ran toward the stables.

  Bridget followed close behind him, running with all that she had inside.

  They rounded the corner of the stables and down to the path through the copse of trees.

  Bridget’s mare and Jones’ gelding’s ears came forward in anticipation as they neared.

  At that moment, loud shouts came from the stable yard. “Find them! Now! They must not get away!”

  Jones lifted Bridget into her saddle, then mounted his gelding as Bridget hastily adjusted her skirts.

  “Go!” Jones nudged his horse and he was off down the path through the woods.

  Bridget flicked the reins and, with a click to the mare, they were off.

  Chapter 39

  “Where are we going?” Bridget shouted to Jones over the horses’ hoof beats on the cobblestone road.

  “To see Lord Liverpool,” Jones shouted back.

  “The Prime Minister? Would we not wish to speak with Charles before we go to the Home Office?”

  Jones’ head snapped in her direction and he pulled his gelding to a sudden stop, forcing Bridget to do the same. “Did you not find the documents before Gilley’s return forced you to make your escape?”

  Bridget reached into her apron pocket and pulled out the bunch of documents she had retrieved from Gilley’s hidden box. “I did.”

  Jones’ relief was palpable. “Good. May I examine them?”

  Bridget handed the papers to Jones, then waited patiently as he read several.

  “These are precisely what we had hoped to find,” Jones said, his relief evident in his voice. “You did an excellent job, my lady. We must bring them to Lord Liverpool before Gilley tries to plead his own case.” He returned the papers to Bridget and she put them back in her apron pocket.

  She wrung her hands. “You do not think that Gilley would attempt to incriminate Charles even with this evidence against him, do you?”

  “I do, indeed. The man is dastardly enough to take his beliefs to Lord Liverpool in an attempt to undermine our evidence. My fear is that the Prime Minister might actually believe him. Gilley has worked within the Home Office for several years, and has gained the trust of Lord Liverpool. If we do not present this evidence before Gilley arrives, he may have already convinced Lord Liverpool that someone has created false evidence solely to incriminate him.”

  The knots in Bridget’s stomach twisted sickeningly. “Good heavens! We must make haste.”

  “My thoughts precisely, my lady.”

  Bridget urged her mare forward and flicked the reins, bringing them to a gallop once more. Jones followed easily in her wake. The journey to the Home Office was a short one, as Gilley’s town house was not five minutes away, when on horseback.

  The streets were teeming with patrons strolling about, shoppers, and servants sent on various errands. Tall buildings stood proudly next to one another, their stone façades all nearly identical. Soon, they pulled their mounts to a halt before a large building, much like the others, though the words “Home Office” were etched in the stone beside the doorway

  They both leapt to the ground and marched up the steps to the front doors. Jones opened the door and stood back to allow Bridget to enter. As they crossed the threshold a slender young man stepped forward. He slid his pair of spectacles up his nose, closer to his cool and assessing brown eyes. “May I help you?” He observed Bridget before turning his gaze to Jones.

  “We require a moment of Liverpool’s time.”

  “I am afraid that he is unavailable at the moment.”

  “He will speak to me,” Jones said gruffly.

  The man took in their appearances with a look of distaste. “I am certain that his lordship is not receiving callers at this time. That is, unless you have an appointment.”

  Jones gazed down at Bridget with a look of mischief. “Come, Lady Bridget.” He grasped her wrist and pulled her through the foyer.

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but his lordship is—”

  “Going to see us.”

  Jones ignored the young man’s further protests and threats to have large, armed men throw him out, and continued to lead Bridget through the corridors. Finally, Jones halted before a closed door and knocked once.

  Upon receiving admittance, Jones opened the door.

  “Jones! Good heavens look at the state of you.” The man Bridget assumed to be Lord Liverpool stood from his seat behind an immaculate dark oak desk and came forward to shake Jones’ hand.

  The young man followed them into the Prime Minister’s office. “My lord, I am terribly sorry. I will have these miscreants removed immediately.”

  “You will do no such thing, Banes.” His lordship nodded at the fellow. “Off with you now. I will ring if I have need of you.”

  The young man’s ears pinked as he bowed and quit the room. Bridget did not know whether to feel sorry for the man or find humour in the performance.

  The Prime Minister turned to face Bridget. “And who might this delightful young lady be?”

  Jones stepped forward. “Your lordship, I present Lady Bridget Mason. My lady, Lord Liverpool.”

  She curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, your lordship.”

  “Likewise, I’m sure.” Lord Liverpool gestured toward the stiff leather armchairs across from his desk. “Sit, if you will.”

  Bridget and Jones did as they were bid.

  Lord Liverpool resumed his own seat, watching Bridget with curiosity. “Lady Bridget Mason. Yes, I know your brother. How is Lord Devon?”

  “He is well, your lordship.”

  “I am afraid that we did not come for a pleasant visit, Liverpool.” Jones inclined his head.

  “I suspected as much.” His lordship pursed his lips in thought. “Tell me, for what reason have you come to speak with me?”

  Bridget sat stiffly in her seat, her stomach in a jumble. “We have evidence that will prove Gilley’s treasonous activity.”

  Lord Liverpool’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Do you, indeed? What, pray tell is your evidence?”

  Jones looked expectantly at Bridget and she realized her cue. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out the documents. “I believe you will find these to be enlightening reading, my lord.” He accepted them from her and began to read.

  After a moment’s examination, Lord Liverpool’s eyebrows rose once more. “May I ask how you came to be in possession of these documents, Lady Bridget?”

  Bridget did not know how to explain her reasoning behind sneaking into Gilley’s home without revealing the entire tale.

  “At the risk of sounding impertinent, would you like to hear the simplest answer, or would you like me to explain in further detail?”

  “First the simple answer, if you please. I will request details if I feel they are necessary.”

  Bridget subtly cleared her throat. “Very well. I acquired them from behind a hidden panel in the wall of Gilley’s bedchamber.”

  Lord Liverpool reclined in his wingback leather chair, linking his fingers over his stomach. It was a moment before he spoke again, “I believe I should like to hear the entire tale, young lady.”

  Taking a deep breath, Bridget began her tale. For the third time in one day, she explained everything; from the moment Anna and Lane had been kidnapped to when she dropped from Gilley’s bedchamber window. Naturally, she left out the fact that she had become Charles’ mistress in that time.

  Lord Liverpool rose to pour himself a glass of port and resumed his seat. As she finished speaking, he sat g
azing at her for a moment, leaving her feeling distinctly ill at ease. Had she spoken too brazenly? Would he believe her?

  “I would like to thank you, Lady Bridget.”

  “Thank me?” It was her turn to be surprised.

  “It is not every day that one encounters someone so wholly dedicated to the protection of our king and crown that they would risk their very lives for the sake of it, let alone a woman who would do so. What you have done shows loyalty and bravery that few possess. You have done a service to your country, Lady Bridget. You should be proud.”

  Bridget hardly knew what to say. “Thank you. I—” She raised a hand in a gesture for silence. “Just a moment.”

  Is that? Her heart stuttered at the sound. Yes. Gilley’s voice resonated in the entrance hall. “I do not care if he is occupied, I will not wait a moment longer! I must speak with his lordship.”

  “What is the matter, Lady Bridget?” Jones’ voice cut through her focus.

  Bridget turned frantic eyes on Jones and Lord Liverpool. “Gilley is come. He is with your man, Banes, and wishes to speak with you urgently.”

  Lord Liverpool’s expression abruptly turned sombre. He stood and opened an adjoining door from his office, leading to what appeared to be a small library. “In with you, if you would.”

  Jones and Bridget did as they were told, and waited patiently as Lord Liverpool closed the door quietly behind them.

  “What do you suppose we are to do?” Bridget whispered to Jones. “Should we make our escape once Gilley enters or are we to remain and eavesdrop?”

  “I believe that Liverpool’s intention is for us to remain so he may continue his discussion with us once his with Gilley is complete.” Jones whispered in return. “In the meantime, feel at your leisure to have a seat.” He gestured to two grand leather wingback chairs and waited for Bridget to sit down.

  Just as she sat, the door to Lord Liverpool’s office opened. Bridget tilted her head to listen to the conversation and Jones pressed his ear to the door.

  “Gilley! What a surprise! I had thought that you were going to the country for a fortnight.”

  “Lord Liverpool. Your man said that you were in a meeting with someone.”

  “My meeting was over several minutes ago. Banes was mistaken. Please have a seat.”

  “My lord, I have come bearing some most distressing news.”

  “Oh dear. Whatever has happened, Gilley?”

  Bridget and Jones waited in silence as Gilley relayed his tale, accusing Charles of treason. The longer Gilley spoke, the increasingly incensed Bridget felt. The man had clearly thought of everything; from the mysterious deaths of every man the spies were supposed to meet to imaginary threats to Gilley’s life. He twisted every truth into an untruth, putting the blame on Charles’ shoulders. Fortunately, the evidence disproved Gilley’s claims, no matter how he might try to sway Lord Liverpool’s opinion.

  “I see. And do you have any evidence to support your claims, Gilley?”

  “I am afraid not, my lord. Some miscreant broke into my home this very afternoon and removed the pertinent documents from my possession.”

  “Do you mean…” Liverpool paused, “these documents?”

  Gilley blustered, “I have never seen those in the whole of my life, your lordship.”

  “Are you certain of that, Gilley?” The rustling of papers could be heard. “I believe several of these letters are addressed to you.”

  Silence followed.

  “Now, now, there is no need for weaponry, Gilley.”

  Bridget stood and hurried to the bell pull by the fireplace, giving it a hard tug.

  Jones pulled his pistol from his brown coat and burst through the adjoining door. Bridget armed herself with the pistol Jones had lent her and followed him into Lord Liverpool’s office.

  “As you see, Gilley, I have reinforcements.” Lord Liverpool stood behind his desk with a grim smile on his face.

  “Put down your pistol, Gilley. Now.” Jones’ voice held a deadly calm to it that nearly startled Bridget. Charles was fortunate to have friends and servants that were so loyal to him.

  “Never!” Gilley waved his own pistol wildly through the air. “I will never be taken!” He backed toward the door just as it opened behind him, admitting two servants and Banes into the opened doorway.

  Gilley spun toward the door and pulled the trigger. A loud bang, and a burst of gunpowder erupted in the room, followed closely by a shrill scream. Banes gripped his arm and crumpled to the floor.

  Bridget’s heart thundered mercilessly as the others advanced on Gilley. The blackguard withdrew another loaded pistol from his coat and aimed it at the men.

  “Stay back!” he shouted, whirling around to aim at the others, as well.

  The men retreated, and Banes groaned from his position on the floor.

  “Put the weapon away, Gilley,” Lord Liverpool urged. “There needn’t be any more injuries today. Let us talk.”

  Gilley sneered. “What more is there to discuss? I have no reason to trust you.”

  Bridget shifted her hold on her borrowed pistol as her gaze flicked down to Banes. The blood staining his coat sleeve was spreading and seeping from between his fingers. The man’s face had grown pale and his lips quivered. With the proper care Bridget had no doubt that Banes would recover fully, but that did not dampen her present concern.

  She had to stop Gilley.

  Her stomach was aflutter with nerves, but instinct urged her on. Without a second thought, Bridget aimed her weapon at Gilley’s foot and pulled the trigger. Bang! Gilley roared and swung his pistol in her direction. But she was already dashing toward him. She knocked his arm upward and rounded behind him.

  Using all her might, Bridget leapt on Gilley’s broad back and wrapped an arm around his thick neck. Lord Liverpool and Jones rushed forward and wrestled Gilley’s pistol away from him.

  Bridget gradually increased the pressure with her other arm, and waited. Gilley cursed and struggled, but the greater the pressure on his neck, the weaker and slower his movements.

  It was a matter of moments before Gilley’s face had grown nearly purple, and his eyes began to roll in their sockets. Finally, with a great groan, Gilley toppled forward. Lord Liverpool, Jones, and one of the servants hurried to break his fall, lowering him to the floor and allowing Bridget to step away.

  The servant retrieved a length of rope and began to tie Gilley’s hands behind his back.

  “Banes,” she whispered, turning her attention to the injured man.

  “I will see to it that he is cared for by a doctor,” the other servant said as he knelt to aid Banes to his feet.

  Bridget nodded, wiping her hands upon her skirts. “Thank you.”

  She felt the sudden desire to bathe, but that would have to wait until she returned to Mason Hall.

  Lord Liverpool watched her, his eyes lit with astonishment. “Excellent work, Lady Bridget. I thank you.” He held up a hand. “Rest assured, I will extend my gratitude to Major Bradley as well.” He clapped Jones on the shoulder. “Now go on with you. We will handle things from here.”

  Chapter 40

  “It is past nightfall, Stevens, what in God’s name could be taking them so long?” Charles sat propped against several pillows on his bed.

  He was thankful, at least, that the servants had placed a table at his bedside so he would not be so wholly engrossed in his unease as he waited for Bridget’s return. He reached out to place a card face up on the table’s surface.

  “Give them time, I am confident that they will return directly.” Stevens adjusted the fabric sling securing his right arm, then reached to pick up the card Charles had left on the table. “After having seen what Bridget is capable of, how could you possibly doubt her ability to complete this task?”

  Jealousy warred with his other emotions. “I have been meaning to ask you who gave you leave to address Bridget by her given name?”

  Stevens’ humour-filled golden eyes met his over the tab
le. “She did. Why? Does it bother you, old man?”

  Charles forced a scoff. “No, indeed,” he lied. “I was merely inquiring.” Of course it bothered him. Charles had come to the final decision that he would retire from his current position as a spy for the Home Office and would settle into life in his newly purchased castle. With his new bride, should Bridget accept his hand. He supposed he should speak with Lane. He brought a hand to his forehead at the thought. Damn but there would be no end to Lane’s self-satisfaction when Charles begged for his sister’s hand.

  “Hello?” Stevens waved his hand through the air to garner Charles’ attention.

  “My apologies.”

  “Losing your wits already, old man?” Stevens laughed.

  “What is this business of calling me an ‘old man’? I am two years your junior.”

  Stevens’ laughter increased as Charles played his card.

  A knock sounded at the door and Charles called out admittance.

  The door opened and Charles felt relief and joy spread through his body. “Bridget!” His cards dropped to his lap as he motioned for her to sit beside him on the bed.

  “Oh, Charles, I have worried about you so.” She rushed to the side of his bed. “How have you been?”

  “I am well, I am well.” He waved a hand through the air. “But how are you? How was your assignment?” He sent a glare at Jones as Bridget climbed up on the bed to sit beside him. “The assignment that she should not have been on from the start.”

  “I beg your pardon!” Her eyebrows rose as she tucked her feet up beneath her torn skirts and used one hand to prop herself upright.

  “Your woman’s right, Hydra.” Jones grinned. “You would not have believed what she did this afternoon.” Charles’ heart skipped a beat at Jones’ referral to Bridget as his woman.

  He liked the sound of that. His woman. His wife. His love. The mother of his future children. He was certain that he wore a ridiculous smile, but he could not help it.