by Wilde, Tanya
“Good.”
Then he hesitated. “I have to ask, are you certain this it what you want? This is not something you can come back from. I owe no one any loyalty.”
So if he got caught, he would rat her out.
“If he discovers I am alive, if he hasn’t already, not only is my life in danger but so are the lives of my family and friends. This man will go after all I love and he will enjoy my suffering. And I will be powerless to stop him. Only once he believes he’s broken me, will he kill me. That is not something you can come back from either.”
Her certainty rang true in her voice. The man she remembered would do all that and more. The best she could hope for if this mission failed and the truth became known was that her friends would shun her. The mere notion was too horrid to bear, but at least they would be safer that way.
“You’ve sealed his fate then.”
She watched as the cloaked man disappeared into the shadows, leaving her to stand in the cold with nothing but her own conscience.
“And mine,” she whispered into the darkness.
Chapter 4
It was a well-accepted fact, at least amongst a certain group of people within the upper echelons of society, that whenever a meeting was held by Lady Josephine, a fire would soon result. The initial spark was never intended, of course, but as plans went, there were usually enough holes for the disruptive charge to ignite.
Today, however, none other than Derek Shaw was holding a meeting. His position in society was unknown to Belle and to the group at large, but speculation ran rampant. They would never inquire directly about their suspicions to the source of their speculation, but they thought about it at length nonetheless.
To Belle, anyway, the mysteriousness of the Shaw brothers generated their appeal in the first place. If one discovered what they were truly about, she’d imagined them to be just as normal as anyone else.
At this particular meeting, however, her mind was lost in her dream of the previous night. She had stood in midst of a crowded ballroom, utterly alone. Her peers had mulled around and laughed at each other’s jokes, yet no one seemed to notice her obvious distress. She had ended up suffocating, an invisible hand gripping her neck and tightening, and no one had looked her way.
She closed her eyes in order to will her thudding heart to relax.
It was just a dream.
“Lady Belle?” a low male voice asked in concern.
She would know that familiar voice anywhere.
“Belle?” the voice asked again, more concerned now.
Slowly, her awareness returned and her surroundings came into focus as she raised her lashes. She stood not in a crowded ballroom nor in her own home, but in the drawing room of the Tremaine residence.
She turned to face the man of the house, Simon Tremaine, the Earl of Westfield. “Yes, I am here for the meeting. Am I early?”
He took a step closer, his eyes roaming over her features much too intimately for her comfort. “Are you all right? You look a bit pale.”
That snapped her out of reverie. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine. I must have gotten the details of the meeting wrong.”
“No, you have them right. The meeting is to be held now, just not here, but at St. Aldwyn’s.” He held out his arm. “Come, I will escort you,” then grinning down at her, he continued, “or you can escort me.”
Belle managed a small smile.
How embarrassing.
The ride to Jo’s did not take all that long, but Belle was aware of Westfield’s burning stare the entire way though he remained silent. No one seemed to take note that they arrived together either, which Belle thought for the best.
The recent additions to their band of three were namely the husbands, who were less inclined to find appeal in the mysterious air of the brothers. But while it was clear the men were the ones who held the reins, they were firmly bound by the leash of love—a leash that was worn proudly, even arrogantly, by the looks of it.
Belle followed Westfield into the room where everyone had already gathered.
Derek Shaw acted as if he owned the world—an authority that apparently extended to the study they were occupying even if it was not even his own residence. Belle did not know how Josephine put up with such arrogance all the time. It certainly grated on her own nerves.
Her gaze flickered to the other men.
Far too many arrogance males, Belle mused.
Derek Shaw stood; his fierce face tight with tension. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” he began, his eyes flicking to Jo. “We have a matter that requires urgent attention and would not ask for assistance if it was not dire.”
“I am not comfortable involving my wife in your dire matters,” Grey growled, interrupting the man when he would have continued.
Evelyn shot her husband a heated glare. “I am not some fragile miss that breaks at the use of the word dire.”
Grey’s eyes burned with unrelenting intensity. “I will not risk losing you.”
Her friend’s eyes softened. “It will take much more than some dire matter for you to lose me.”
Grey only grunted.
Belle glanced at the St. Aldwyn, who had placed a protective hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Spit it out, Shaw,” he growled with impatience. It was no secret he remained uncomfortable with his wife’s friendship with these men.
Derek Shaw nodded.
Belle braced herself.
“About four years ago, a French spy infiltrated our British ranks—”
Her heart plummeted. Damn that pox-riddled fart.
“—with the sole purpose of obtaining the names of our operatives in Paris. It had been believed that he’d successfully completed his mission—”
Not exactly.
“—yet nothing ever came of it,” Derek paused, his eyes meeting everyone’s gazes.
Belle met his eyes evenly, even though her heart hammered in her chest and her skin had tightened in alarm. She’d expected this, but still, it hit her hard and true. Shaw, on the other hand, might as well have been sipping tea and enjoying lemon cakes during his deadpan retelling of her past.
“I believe something went wrong at the end of his mission, something that prevented him from sharing the names on the list.”
Yes, me.
Jo’s perfectly arched brows creased at the inside edges. “That is all very peachy Derek, but what does that have to do with us?”
Remain calm.
“Yes, I do not see how we can be of help in the Crown’s business,” her husband agreed.
“I was getting to that part,” Derek bit through his clenched jaw.
Jo threw her hands up in mock defeat, earning a grin from her husband.
“He has been spotted here in London not two days ago.”
Belle’s breath caught and the uneasy feeling formed again in the pit of her stomach. He’d returned the night of the ball, the night she got wind of his familiar fragrance. Deep in the halls of her heart, she had still held out hope she was wrong and that she’d given away her savings for no good reason at all. Now, that hope was irrefutably dashed.
“Does this man have a name?” Evelyn asked.
“Edgar De Roux.”
Belle’s too-wide eyes drifted down to her tightly clenched hands. Tears threatened, but she willed them away.
Westfield straightened at the name. “I’ve heard talk of him,” he cleared his throat, “in certain circles. It is said that someone, a traitor to the crown, assisted his escape from the British shores as he could never have made it out alive otherwise.”
A traitor to the crown.
Belle was going to be sick.
Before her, oblivious of her inner battle, Derek nodded. “That might as well be true. We believe that it was someone in our midst who aided him, though we could never confirm it as a fact.”
Grey shook his head. “How is this even a matter of public knowledge?”
This time, it was James who answered. “It’s not, though one can n
ever prevent some gossip and speculation to form. Be as it may, we’ve been tasked to secure his whereabouts.”
“Tasked by whom?” Belle croaked.
“We are not at liberty to say,” James added.
“Yet you are at liberty to include civilians in your task?” Grey asked, his voice incredulous.
The brothers remained silent.
“If we assist you, does that mean we are spies, as well?” Evelyn asked, her eyes hopeful. Her question drew out a responding groan from Grey’s throat.
Belle almost smiled.
James flashed them a grin. “Only if that is what you wish.”
Grey cursed.
“So you want us to assist you in finding a foreign spy?” Westfield asked for clarity, before glancing at the women. “This is hardly a matter for ladies.”
Jo and Evelyn stiffened. Belle remained quiet. Unbeknown to them, she’d already taken matters into her own hands.
“I’ll have you know,” Jo put in snippily, “that no one knows the back alleys of this city better than I.” Jo’s eyes flickered over to her. “Do you not agree, Belle?”
Belle had spent a lot of time running through those back alleys with Jo. “Of course. We ladies are more resourceful than most, much more than anyone seems to think.”
“Ha!” Evelyn agreed, giving her husband a triumphant smile. He merely shook his head in mock surrender.
Westfield snorted. “The fact remains that you should not even have those urchin contacts of yours in the first place. You are a lady, not a back-alley savior.”
St. Aldwyn put his hand over Jo’s lips before she could blast Westfield with her opinion.
Derek nodded. “Be as it may, Lady Josephine has the contacts we need. But more to the point, the lower class trust her.”
“What is it you would have us do?” Belle asked.
Westfield frowned in her direction before instant concern lit his brow.
She must look a fright.
Derek turned his undivided attention to her, perhaps sensing that as the only unattached female, and therefore the only one without a male to dictate her actions, and so if she chose to be part of this project, the others might follow suit.
“We are to investigate, discreetly, his whereabouts and if possible, the reason for his return. It is my hope that you would ask around, through your own contacts, any information relating to him.”
Belle studied Derek with an unwavering regard. His eyes seemed to speak a truth that none of the other men recognized. The arrogant weasel knew who she was—at least, he knew she was the infamous Madam De La Frey. It was why she’d been included in any of these schemes in the first place. No one other than Jo and Evelyn knew about her role as the infamous designer. Well, they and possibly the mercenary. And now it would appear Derek Shaw. Maybe even his brother.
Too many people in her good opinion.
Of course, her contacts may prove to be even more valuable than Jo’s urchins.
With a nod of assent to Shaw, Belle sauntered over to the window, needing to clear her mind. Gray clouds hovered overhead. It suited her mood.
“I suppose it would be easy enough to ask around,” Jo murmured. “I will, however, need a description of this Edgar De Roux.”
Derek retrieved a small portrait from his pocket and handed it to Jo. Belle did not need to study the portrait to know what her friend would see. She glimpsed Jo’s expression through the reflection of the window and saw the surprise that registered in her eyes. Ah yes, Edgar’s face was utterly deceptive in its beauty; it could strike a woman blind.
“Well,” Jo said, clearing her throat. “I daresay it’s a face that won’t be forgotten.”
St. Aldwyn snatched the portrait from his wife’s fingertips. “Stop ogling the bastard.”
Jo gave Belle a look that practically said, “Do you see what I have to put up with?”
Belle managed to tilt her lips upward in response.
“What do we know about the night he escaped?” Grey asked, taking Evelyn’s hand in his.
Derek, noticing the gesture, paused before answering. “We suspect it happened in the early morning actually, and that he escaped by boat, likely dressed as a fisherman. A woman’s scream and a gunshot had been heard, but when officials arrived, no one was found. Only a pool of blood remained on the scene. It is uncertain whether the woman was involved or if it was even her stain.”
The silence that fell over the room was deafening.
Belle’s entire body turned to ice. She clutched her side, where the scar of his betrayal still ran ragged. Never had she imagined anyone would be so knowledgeable of that horrible night.
It terrified her.
Belle swallowed as she noted Westfield and Grey share a look. They did not like nor did they trust this new development. Evelyn would not become part of this project.
“My wife will not be involved in such dangerous matters,” Grey confirmed Belle’s suspicion aloud. The grip on his wife’s shoulders when she would have protested tightened. “That is final, Evelyn.”
Evelyn remained silent, her cheeks flushed with anger. Belle knew that look. She would let the matter go. For now.
“I will not lie, this is a dangerous man,” Derek said with a sigh, the first trace of uncertainty he’d shown. “I would never ask this of anyone, but all of you have a unique position in society to get the word out. I understand your concern, Grey, though I will say that the women will never be in any danger, as acquiring information from their own contacts and circles is the full extent of their involvement.”
Not true, Belle thought, closing her eyes, the scars on her body still tingling.
They were all in danger. Just being connected to her was enough to risk their lives. This was no ordinary spy. He took pleasure in inflicting pain and enjoyed the thrill of the dangerous game. He would know the exact moment inquiries were made; his eyes and ears were always everywhere.
Pain stabbed her chest as she battled for control over her wobbling legs. She could not allow danger to descend upon her friends. They had to hear the truth. They deserved it.
“Could he have killed whoever helped him, perhaps?” Belle heard Evelyn ask. She ignored her husband’s pointed stare as she asked the question.
Oh, he’d tried, Belle mulled darkly, her earlier resolve strengthening. She was clear once again on what needed to be done.
“It’s possible, but still does not explain the missing body or why no one with fatal wounds ever received treatment from any nearby doctor—and we inquired with many,” Derek answered.
“No one received treatment that you are aware of,” Westfield emphasized.
“It would make sense,” James conceded, interjecting his opinion before his brother could respond. “If whoever he hurt survived, that may be reason enough for his return. It could be that he has unfinished business, loose ends to tie up.”
Jo shook her head. “Or we are looking at this entirely wrong. What if it’s not the list or the escape or any unfinished business he came back for, but rather another reason?”
St. Aldwyn sighed, realizing that his wife would not let this go. Jo was already attempting to solve the puzzle.
“There’s no other reason,” Belle said, her voice firm with both determination and steely conviction.
“You have insight on the matter?” James asked. “Or have you already heard something of significance?”
That caught Westfield’s attention. “Why would she have heard anything of significance?”
James smile turned sly. “The more important question is where.”
For pity’s sake.
Westfield turned to Belle questioningly and she sighed before addressing the room. “If he has returned, it’s not because his mission failed, but because it never ended. He must be here to finish what he started four years ago.”
To Belle’s utter vexation she was met with only thoughtful stares, nary a suspicious one. Well, except for Westfield’s narrow regard. She was going to have
to spell this out for them, then.
“A rather good point, Lady Belle,” James said with a nod.
It was Derek Shaw’s suspicious nature that prompted him to say, “A very good observation, indeed, but hardly concrete.”
Steely eyes locked with arrogant ones. “There is no other reason.”
Suspicion blossomed in his gaze.
Finally.
“Do you have proof of this observation that we are not aware of?”
Belle had always imagined that when the day of reckoning came, the skies would thunder and, if she was lucky, the earth would open up and swallow her into its depths. Instead, she stood in a room filled with her dearest friends, knowing that once she revealed the truth, they would condemn her for it. But as she stared at all their beloved faces, she felt nothing but a complete calm settle over her.
“I know because I am the one that helped Edgar De Roux escape.”
Chapter 5
At first, Belle thought they hadn’t heard her. But then, as if it hadn’t just taken its sweet time, the truth suddenly revealed itself in their shocked faces and their blank eyes that blinked once, twice, before finally widening in disbelief.
St. Aldwyn’s jaw dropped open.
Jo blinked as her brows creased.
Grey’s back straightened.
Evelyn’s eyes rounded to saucers.
Westfield’s face lost all color.
The brother’s lips parted, at a loss.
It was rather comical to witness, Belle mused. Clearly, no one would ever have expected this turn of events.
“Hell.”
“Why did you never tell us?”
A fierce scowl.
“Oh dear.”
“Belle—”
Belle turned toward Westfield at his soft murmur of her name but stopped when she spotted the brothers, their shoulders widening even more if that was possible.
Evelyn and Jo, also noting the subtle change in their demeanor, suddenly sprang into action the same time, causing Belle to jerk. Each of them took a post by her side, a mixture of determination and defiance etched to the lift of their chins. Their eyes challenged the men to take any sort of action.
