The Duchess and the Spy

by Marly Mathews

  “Sir, is,” she halted in mid-sentence, and then decided that if she was going to be facing a trial, she didn’t want to incriminate Jason as well. Christopher knew of her past in France, he also knew why she’d been sent to England, and since he obviously worked for the Crown, she was done for. If he’d decided to make her life a true misery, he’d have her shackles and in safely stashed away in prison before she could even comprehend her fate. Without her powers, escape was just a dream.

  Swallowing thickly, she wiped her fingers on the cloth that still lay in her lap, and regarded Merryville steadily.

  “Is Jason…I mean Lord Elphinstone quite well?” she asked, furrowing her brow anxiously.

  Merryville turned his attention back to her, and she moved eagerly to the edge of her seat awaiting his answer. Her eyes lit up with curiosity, as he cleared his throat.

  “Elphinstone will be fine,” he said, watching her reaction closely. “Wyndham says that Elphinstone’s got a hard head. The Doctor gave him something to sleep. I’m sure he tired himself out when he dragged you out of the English Channel. They’ll be regaling his heroics for years to come—to think he managed to drag you out of the rough channel when he was knocked senseless. He’ll become a legend, I assure you.”

  Isabella’s eyes flashed with fire, and she noticed Merryville’s jaw twitch slightly. But she was so damn relieved that Jason was alive, that she didn’t care what anyone thought of her.

  She blinked rapidly, when she heard her Saint’s distinctive bellow.

  “I believe that you are being summoned,” she said sarcastically.

  Merryville jumped up from his seat, and knocked his head against the ceiling of the carriage. Isabella winced in sympathy, as the carriage door was flung open.

  “I need to talk with you,” Christopher said, addressing Merryville, and completely ignoring her.

  Indignation welled inside of her at the blatant disregard, but she kept her mouth shut, for fear of attracting hiss attention. She feared gaining his attention, more than she feared his indifference.

  Merryville smiled sheepishly at her, still rubbing the top of his head. He stepped down out of the carriage. She settled back against the seat, and let out a loud sigh. Resting her head back, she sighed, and closed her eyes.

  She jumped slightly, when the carriage door slammed shut. She fluttered her eyes closed again, and a grin spread across her face, as she imagined clobbering Christopher with something large and heavy.

  Now all she had to do was to figure out how she could escape him…for as Daphne had told her so many times, she knew his fire would definitely burn.

  Chapter Eight

  Christopher strode away from the carriage, and listened as Merryville quickly followed him. He had checked on Jason one last time, only to discover that he was still fast asleep. He shouldn’t have expected otherwise. He would probably sleep through the night.

  Jason wouldn’t be able to travel for a few more days, and he had to keep Isabella close since he had promised him that he would bring her to see him in the morning. No other survivors had emerged, and little was left of the two magnificent warships that had refused to surrender.

  He still needed Jason to brief him on all of the events of the battle, but he would have to wait until he recovered his strength.

  He stopped abruptly, and heard Merryville’s surprised muttering. He whirled around and stared down at the shorter man.

  “I need you to keep an eye on Theo’s house. I’ve posted some other men, but I need to have someone watching it that I know has a brain.”

  Merryville brightened visibly, staring up at the cloudy sky.

  “Seems as if we’re in for a bit of rain,” Merryville remarked, as Christopher followed his gaze. “Don’t worry, sir, I’m your man, I’ll make sure that no one gets into the Cornwell household.”

  “That’s good, because I need to question Isabella.”

  Raindrops began sprinkling down on them, and Christopher felt a depressing chill flow over him. Merryville seemed concerned. That witch was so bewitching that she’d enchanted Albert, and as a result Albert now felt sorry for her. Damnation.

  “Elphinstone seems to believe that Isabella is some sort of angel. He made me promise to bring his cousin to see him in the morning.”

  He watched as Merryville’s expression changed, as he grinned widely. “Jolly good, and so you shall. She’s such a sweet girl. She reminds me of my sister.”

  “Yes, well, she’s far from being like Muriel. She’s definitely worlds away from her in more ways than one. She could be here to spy for Napoleon, Merryville.”

  “Fustian bloody nonsense, and you know it. Besides, you shouldn’t speak like that, she is Elphinstone’s cousin,” Merryville reproved, completely horrified. “I don’t know why you’ve taken such a disliking to her. Elphinstone couldn’t leave her to drown and you know it. She’s his bloody cousin.”

  “Yes, well, I wouldn’t pull Blanding out of the water, if he was drowning.” He was acting like a complete prick, and he knew his behaviour was a way to mask how he did feel about her. He didn’t want anyone to suspect that he was completely enchanted by her.

  “Yes, you would,” Merryville decided. “You might not like it, but you wouldn’t let him die. You aren’t that cruel. Besides, if Ryder was in mortal danger, you would risk your hide for him. You wouldn’t think twice about putting your neck on the line for him, and you know it!”

  “That’s a totally different scenario altogether. Will’s not a bastard. Blanding is,” Christopher contradicted gruffly. “Why Blanding, dirty bastard that he is, is already planning his future as an earl. Will, on the other hand, is neither devious nor greedy. Will would do anything for me, and the sentiment is reciprocated.” His throat constricted painfully, and he let out a muffled oath. Speaking of his cousin, William Ryder reminded Christopher of what danger his cousin faced day after day. If Isabella had somehow compromised Will’s cover…he could be in terrible danger, and since they both shared Will as a cousin, he knew she’d be horrified to contemplate his fate at the hands of Bonaparte.

  “The Duchess—she is a duchess, isn’t she? So, shouldn’t we be calling her Your Grace, and Madam? I don’t think Mademoiselle would really be appropriate not that we’re in England. She hasn’t done any true acts of espionage, you know,” Merryville declared cheerily, still arguing in Isabella’s favor. “And I shouldn’t worry. She doesn’t seem to like you anymore. Wasn’t she the lass who liked you so much? Back when you would go and visit Elphinstone in Scotland?”

  “Thank you, Merryville. As always, I appreciate your candor. And aye, she is a Duchess. She was her father’s sole heir, although her title means little now in France, but if you want to treat her like a duchess while she’s here, be my guest. We’ve both changed, and unfortunately Isabella hasn’t changed for the better.” God, he sounded like such a cad. He couldn’t continue on like this…he wasn’t that sort of man, and yet, he couldn’t admit that he loved her…that he had done since they saw each other that fateful night.

  Merryville harrumphed at his’s words, and for the first time in many years, Christopher could see that the man was annoyed with him.

  “Oh, now I wouldn’t be saying that. From what I remember of my rare glimpses of her a few years back, she has matured quite nicely. And if my eyes don’t betray me, she’s one hell of a beauty. She’ll be well sought after when she is presented to Society, and she won’t stay long on the marriage mart. Why, I might even offer for her hand, as she is quite the tempting armful”

  “What the bloody hell, are you on about? You shouldn’t have eyes for the Duchess. Don’t forget about Nellie. She’s the object of your affections right now—and I have it on good authority that she wouldn’t be pleased knowing that you gave Isabella a second glance. Women are funny about those things, you know,” Christopher pointed out. Merryville was his friend, but if the fellow even thought about making any sort of advancement toward Isabella, he’d have no other choice bu
t to plant a facer on him.

  “I haven’t forgotten about Nellie,” Merryville said gruffly, frowning at him. “But you shouldn’t treat Her Grace so harshly, she was after all kidnapped. Who knows what that dirty bastard did to her over the last four years? Perhaps, Wyndham, you should keep that in mind, and employ a wee bit of compassion when dealing with her.”

  Albert turned his back to him, and sauntered away toward Theo’s house.

  Christopher was in a very disagreeable mood. He was wet, hungry, and he couldn’t decide between throwing Isabella over his knee and giving her a good spanking, or throwing her into his bed and making sweet love to her.

  For a brief moment, he closed his eyes, summoning on the last vestiges of his strength. He knew one thing, he wasn’t going to get any other answers out of Jason today. He might as well pack in for the day and take Isabella somewhere where she could rest. She was injured, and yet she denied treatment. She looked half-dead and yet, she refused to sleep until she saw Jason. The woman astounded him.

  He stood alone in the rain, considering how much bother she had caused him in such a remarkably short amount of time. Whipping his head back toward the carriage, he set his jaw in a determined line. He was going to get some answers, and he was going to see to that leg of hers whether she liked it or not. She had to learn that she’d finally met her match in the battle of wills, and in this battle, he would emerge the victor.

  He threw the carriage door open and stared angrily at Isabella. She looked at him with a tranquil expression on her face, though her eyes blazed with undeniable fury.

  Jumping up into the carriage, he ignored her startled protests. He quickly gave the signal to the driver, and smiled when he noticed Isabella’s uneasy expression.

  “We’re going to an Inn for the night. And before you start arguing with me—I’ll take you to see Elphinstone first thing in the morning.” He refused to meet her gaze.

  “Unacceptable. You will take me to see Jason now.”

  “He is asleep.”

  “No matter, I wish to see that he is comfortable. If you fight me on this, Christopher, I shall make your existence a living hell.”

  “You need to learn your place.”

  “My place? Pray tell, where would that be, Christopher, in your arms, and in your bed? I see the way you look at me. No matter how hard you try to fight the attraction you have for me. It’s still there burning like a flame. But, heed this, I feel nothing for you. You’ve damaged our relationship irreparably. I am not the girl I once was, and I am no longer looking at you with stars in my eyes.”

  “Oh, you aren’t, are you? You aren’t looking at me as if you hate me. Besides, you loved the way I kissed you back at Belle Roche.”

  “And if I may say so, you sir, are a bastard.”

  “Don’t tell my dear sweet mother that. She’d have a fit.”

  He could tell she was forcing back a faint smile. He amused her with their repartee, whether she wanted to admit it or not, she liked his company, and God help him, he enjoyed hers as well. No matter how she tried his patience, he still liked being around her.

  “I must insist upon seeing my cousin. Once you grant me that one small boon, I will go readily with you wherever you lead.”

  “I should take you up on that very open offer, and make sure I lead you straightaway to my bed. I’ve decided to indulge you just this once. Mind, we will not be staying to keep a bedside vigil. Elphinstone has his own personal nurse to see to any of his needs…he doesn’t need you hovering over his bedside.”

  “That is merely your opinion.” Her glorious eyes narrowed, though the hardened glint in them had softened somewhat. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get a move on, Wolf.”

  He hated hearing her call him that. It stirred up memories of her he’d rather let be for the time being. She’d looked so stunning in her ball gown, so enchanting, dare he use the word.

  “You can call me Christopher, or Wyndham, or possibly even Saint, but don’t call me Wolf. I shall take you to Jason, and you will have five minutes. Do you understand, Duchess?”

  “I understand, Christopher,” she said softly.

  He exited the carriage, and put his hand out for hers. She touched him ever so lightly. He clasped her hand tightly, and pulled her close to him. She let out a surprised gasp.

  “Release me.”

  “I am only trying to guide you out of the carriage. In your weakened state, you could easily lose your footing, and take a nasty spill. We wouldn’t want that would we?” He savoured the feeling of her voluptuous body pressed close to his. The stares of the men surrounding the carriage finally made him release her. Her cheeks were a delightful shade of pink, and her eyes were bright. She’d enjoyed the closeness as much as he had.

  They walked in silence to the doctor’s house.

  The maid admitted them with a curious look in her eyes. Without waiting for Theo or his wife, he took her by the hand and escorted her upstairs.

  “This…house is very—cozy.”

  He gave her a dazzling smile. “I like the way you chose your words on that. Quite tactful of you. I warrant the house isn’t the size or grandeur that you are accustomed to, but I’m quite certain that Dr. Cornwell and his wife love it dearly.”

  “Indeed.” Her voice came out as the faintest whisper. “I trust you are taking me to my cousin?”

  “Wherever else would I be taking you? This isn’t the sort of house that I’d take you to have an illicit liaison with, my dear.”

  They emerged into Jason’s room to find the nurse sitting in a chair reading a book by candlelight.

  “You may leave.” The nurse looked up, her mouth formed into a grim line. He could see she was going to give him a hard time of it.

  “Sister, I wouldn’t fight me on this—I trust Dr. Cornwell has already told you to heed my orders?”

  She nodded her head. “Yes, unfortunately, he has. But I must insist that you only stay in this room for five minutes. The patient will not wake. He was given a sleeping tincture.”

  “I am aware of that. Thank you, Sister.”

  She bowed her head to him, and quickly left the room.

  “He looks so pale. I’ve never seen him look like this before. I knew he was slipping away…but this means I must remain with him throughout the night.” She sank onto the chair next to his bed, and gingerly touched him. “If my magic had not failed me…I could speed up his recovery…I…”

  He wanted to comfort her, and he held himself back. She needed this time, to come to terms with her new life. She certainly didn’t look like a dangerous spy with her red hair cascading in waves around her shoulders, and her face as white as a dove, with just the barest hint of freckles along her nose. She was the most natural beauty that he had ever set eyes upon. She didn’t need to paint her face, or wear fine clothes, she just needed to show her soul, and everyone around her would fall under her enchantment.

  “What is this about your magic being gone?”

  “It isn’t gone.” Her voice broke. The strain of the last few days had finally taken its toll on her. “It has only left me…for how long, I cannot say.”

  “Has this ever happened before?” He shouldn’t be having a serious conversation about magic, and yet he was. Isabella had swept into his life like a hurricane, and she’d altered it like no other woman ever had, or ever could for that matter.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I…just thought talking about it would help. I would like for you to able to heal Elphinstone.”

  She smiled, and closed her eyes. Opening them, she pinned him with her amazing stare. “I know my magic will return. Let us just leave it at that. I don’t know when, and I don’t know how, but it has to. It is what makes me into the woman that I am.”

  “I beg to differ on that.”

  “This is coming from the man that insists upon calling me, Witch, how quaint.” She stroked Jason’s forehead, and he let out a soft moan in his sleep, almost as if he knew she was
there. “I feel bereft and lost without my abilities. I feel nakedly blind. It was my sixth sense, and without it, I feel quite bewildered.”

  He made no comment and let her continue to comfort Jason. She might not have her magical touch, from the looks of it, she had a soothing touch.

  He reached for his gold pocket watch. She cleared her throat right when he was about to speak. Glancing at the clock that sat on the mantle above the fireplace, she sighed. “Alas, my time with you is up, Jason. I must take my leave now. Sleep well, my Scottish Prince.” She stood up and leaned over to lay a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I will see you in your dreams.” With that, she turned to him. “We must leave now. You will see, given time that I am a woman of my word. Though I do not want to leave Jason, I will. You must promise to take me back to see him tomorrow.”

  “Of course. Besides, he’ll want to see you as well, and Jason as you well know, isn’t the easiest man to deal with when he is in high dudgeon.”

  “That trait seems to run rampant in my family.” She gave him a soft smile. “I won’t require your assistance. I can see my way out of the house.”

  “I want Theo to look at your knee.”

  She sighed. He took her to Theo and waited while he examined her. He told her that it would heal on its own, gave her some laudanum for the pain, and told her to stay off it and elevate it as much as possible. With that, they left the house. Before he knew it they were both outside in the quickly fading twilight.

  “We should get to our Inn.” The country house his family had in the area was too far away to make the journey this late at night, and he could have stayed with friends, but this seemed more fitting considering their circumstances. She could also remain a short distance away from Jason and he knew that had to please her.

  “Where is my companion?” she demanded. He led them back to the carriage, wordlessly assisted her onto the seat, and then tapped on the roof to give the signal to his driver.

  He gestured carelessly with his hand, successfully disregarding such a frivolous concern.