No Ordinary Groom

by Gayle Callen

  He picked up his dog in both hands and looked him in the eyes. “Did you hear that, Killer? She doubts your worthiness. Let’s prove her wrong, shall we?”

  Not a quarter hour later, the carriage swayed as William got into the coachman’s box. She heard him call to the horses, then she was tossed back on her seat as the carriage squeaked and began to roll.

  “He’s never been a good driver,” Mr. Barlow murmured.

  Jane shushed him and continued to clean and bandage his wound. But inside, her mind was spinning with countless wild thoughts. Worrying about pursuit made her feel very powerless and afraid, something she wasn’t used to. Yes, it was a man’s world and she always had to deal with that, but…this was different. She felt in someone else’s control. Her father’s and William’s manipulations seemed nothing compared to this.

  Yet part of her felt more alive than she ever had before. Was it because she’d never felt the thrill of outwitting danger? Or was it that William had seemed to become another person?

  Several hours later, the carriage suddenly rolled over bumpy ground, waking the occupants. Jane spilled onto the floor.

  “What the bloody hell happened?” Mr. Barlow grumbled, bracing himself to sit up. He groaned and reached a hand to his head.

  She had no answers.

  The carriage jostled around for at least another quarter hour, then came to an abrupt halt. In the sudden silence, they could hear the neighing of the horses and nothing else but the muted sound of crickets.

  She parted the shutters covering the glass windows, but she could see nothing but the faint flare of the outside lanterns. All else was inky blackness. She felt William descend from the box, and a moment later he climbed inside, carrying his exhausted dog. When William took his seat, Killer collapsed in his lap, and even she could see the little thing trembling. The dog’s panting shuddered through him, and for once she felt sorry for him.

  “Where are we?” she demanded.

  “I drove outside the town and far enough away from any farm. The last bit was rough because I entered a little copse of trees for protection.”

  “Near started my head bleedin’ again,” Mr. Barlow growled.

  William smiled. “I learned coaching from the best.”

  The driver only harrumphed.

  “So we won’t be at an inn?” Jane asked.

  “We’re camping for the night. I want to make sure that whoever that man is, he’s unable to find us.”

  “But what happened? Why did you fight him?”

  His smile dimmed. “I assume he was trying to steal any valuables in our trunks. It’s a good thing I went out to help Barlow.”

  “But you never do that,” she persisted. “Why did you choose tonight?”

  “I guess I had a special feeling,” he said brightly.

  She told herself she should be happy that there were depths to William she’d never imagined. His “dandy” behavior had all but disappeared, replaced by competence and as-yet-undiscovered knowledge.

  But he’d been lying to her, and she had no idea how major the lies really were. Had he lied about things to get what he wanted—namely, their marriage? How could she believe another word he said? Yet…she found him more compelling than any other man she’d ever known. She was starting to care too much about him, and she didn’t even know who the real William was.

  Chapter 18

  Jane watched William lean over Mr. Barlow and touch the bloodstained bandage.

  “It’s stopped bleeding,” he said with satisfaction.

  “Then maybe it’s time for you to answer some questions,” she said.

  He glanced at her. “Not now. I have to see to the horses and start a fire.”

  She gritted her teeth and remained silent, knowing he couldn’t keep her that way for long.

  Mr. Barlow stirred. “Is a fire wise, my lord?”

  William shrugged. “If he’d really been following us—and I don’t see how, because Killer would know—he would have seen our lanterns. I had no choice but to use them or risk running into a ditch. The trees are hiding us well enough for a small fire. I’ll keep watch—you know I won’t be sleeping.”

  Jane narrowed her eyes. “Then perhaps I can help you stay awake by talking to you.”

  He met her gaze and seemed to read her intentions. “No, I insist you get your rest. There’s plenty of time to talk tomorrow, if Barlow feels up to driving. Now let me see to keeping us warm and fed.”

  “Fed? Do you plan to hunt in the dark?”

  “No, but someone else can. Come on, Killer, let’s see what’s out there.”

  Though the dog had seemed exhausted only moments before, he now jumped to his feet, tail wagging wildly. She gritted her teeth as they both went out the door.

  For his part, Will considered his escape from the carriage pure luck. He didn’t know how he was going to answer all Jane’s questions, especially since she would be safer the less she knew, but at least he didn’t have to deal with her questions at the moment.

  He fell back on his camping skills so easily that he didn’t have to think about them. This freed him to ruminate on thoughts of Julia’s henchman chasing them. Did she want Will dead, so there would be as few people as possible between her and the accomplice who’d betrayed her?

  When Killer brought back a dead rabbit, Will promptly displayed it to Jane, who, instead of having an attack of ladylike disgust, was quite impressed by the dog’s accomplishment. She offered to help Will find firewood, but he wouldn’t let her and insisted she stay inside the carriage.

  While the rabbit was cooking on a spit over the fire, Will paced and looked up at the stars and tried to collect his scattered thoughts.

  Killer’s sudden stillness and a suspicious rustle deep in the trees were the first things that alerted him to danger. With a hand signal from Will, the dog quieted at his feet. He silently moved away from the fire toward the carriage so he couldn’t be seen. Foolishly, he’d left his guns in storage beneath the carriage benches. But he was carrying the knife dropped by the intruder back at Langley Manor. He crouched beside the horses that were munching grass where he’d hobbled them.

  An owl hooted softly through the trees. It took him a moment to place the call of the next animal because of its very foreignness to the English countryside: a camel.

  Will relaxed and repeated the sound, then went back to the fire and sat on the log he’d rolled up. A few minutes later, an old man dressed in rough country garb shuffled out from the shadows of the trees and into the firelight. He wore a large hat with a wide brim that hid his face, and he was hunched over with the strain of age. He led a horse behind him, although he looked like he couldn’t have mounted without assistance.

  Will laughed and put out a hand. “Why, Sam, it’s good to see you.”

  Samuel Sherryngton shook his hand and sat down so slowly beside him that Will thought the man’s thirty-four-year-old bones really must ache with age. Killer leaned against Sam’s ankles and wriggled with delight as he was petted.

  “A good evenin’ to ye, Will,” Sam said, his country voice hoarse and gravelly.

  “Fine, fine, just keep showing off.” Will shook his head. “I don’t know why you felt the need to disguise yourself when there’s only me to impress.”

  “But you’re so easy to impress,” Sam answered slyly, his voice back to normal. “And then again, we wouldn’t want our enemies seeing you meet with the same person.”

  “I know. So where the hell were you a couple hours ago?”

  “You mean the incident by the coach house?”

  “We could have used a hand.”

  “I know,” Sam said cheerfully. “But by the time I was close enough to realize what was going on, your attacker was already running away.”

  “And you couldn’t have chased him?”

  “You were closer than I was.” Sam scratched beneath Killer’s chin. “And this little guy is usually a far better tracker than I.”

  Will could only sha
ke his head. “So how are Nick and Charlotte?”

  Sam grinned. “Falling in love.”

  “Not Nick!”

  “Well I didn’t say either of them knew it yet. But as for danger, things have been quiet for days since Julia was at Langley Manor. How have things gone?”

  Will explained everything that had happened. “What I can’t figure out is why Julia bothered to have a man come after me. We don’t even know for certain that she’s on to Nick, let alone me.” Will felt irritable and frustrated with the uncertainty of it all.

  “But we have to assume she is.”

  “If she doesn’t know exactly who is meeting her old accomplice in Leeds, perhaps she figures she should take care of anyone who might be in on the plot.”

  Sam stared into the fire, his big hat drooping from his hands. “She doesn’t seem to have many men helping her, for no one came near Nick and Charlotte while you were at the manor. Also, Julia doesn’t know I’m involved, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…I’ve known her since she was in the nursery,” he replied, and there was sadness in his voice that he couldn’t hide. “She might feel all the more threatened and desperate if she knows about me.”

  “But you’ve hardly betrayed her—in fact, the opposite is true!”

  “I know.” Sam raised bleak eyes to Will. “I wish I knew what happened to her in India. Or maybe it was Afghanistan—I don’t know. But my wishes don’t matter.”

  They were silent for several minutes, as both contemplated what could make a woman commit such crimes.

  “So what happens next?” Will finally asked.

  “Nick wants final proof against her, so he’ll follow her to her accomplice in Leeds—”

  “If she’s even going there,” Will interrupted.

  Sam shrugged. “Nick wants her to incriminate herself. At this point, he and I will keep following her. I’ll let you know if we need you for anything else. Don’t go right to Colonel Whittington’s estate until we tell you that Julia is in custody.”

  “I don’t want to put the colonel in danger, either. Just finish this quickly. There are only so many estates for sale, and Jane is getting suspicious.”

  “But you need to be unobtrusive, Will. They’ve tried to kill you twice now. Hopefully they’ve lost track of you.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  Sam nodded and attempted a smile. “So where is your future bride? I’ve only seen her from a distance.”

  Will glanced at the carriage, allowing thoughts of Jane passionate in his arms to warm him. “I convinced her to stay in the carriage and keep Barlow company while I cook supper. I can’t believe she hasn’t seen you yet. But then again, you do look like a lost old man sharing the warmth of my fire.”

  “So she doesn’t know what’s going on?”

  “Not yet. But I think after today, she’s going to demand the truth. I’ll tell her as little as possible about my past and nothing about the mission itself. The less she knows the better. She likes Julia, and I don’t want her putting herself in danger trying to prove we’re wrong.”

  “Very well,” Sam said. “I’ll go report to Nick everything you’ve told me. Where will you be tomorrow night, just in case?”

  “We’re going to tour estates along the border between Nottinghamshire and Lincolnshire. I’ll make for the village of Epworth by twilight. There’s an old inn called The Crown and the Horse behind the Manor Court House. Think you can find it?”

  Sam smiled. “What a cruel question to ask.” He got slowly to his feet, as if his knees would barely hold him. With a hand to his back, he hobbled a bit, then leaned against his horse for a few quick breaths.

  Will grinned.

  Sam winked. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope not.”

  Then Sam limped slowly off into the night, leading a horse whose head hung as if he’d led a hard life. Even the animal was in disguise.

  Very quietly, Jane slid the glass window back in place so as not to disturb Mr. Barlow’s sleep. She didn’t know to whom William had been speaking, but she knew he wasn’t a lost old man. He’d obviously come to see William. But how had he known where they were? Or had William come to this place deliberately?

  She’d overheard a word or two between the men: something about a woman with a man named Nick, and then later a mention of her own name.

  So now he was talking about her to strangers? Well a stranger to her, anyway, since it was obvious William knew who he was.

  Sitting there in the darkness, listening to Mr. Barlow snore, Jane’s frustrations and curiosity mounted to an intolerable level. She could not go on trying to solve the riddle of William’s character using only subtle clues. It was time he explained himself—no more mysteries or strangers or fights. He was going to tell her everything immediately or she would go on to her father’s without him and bring about an end to their association.

  She climbed out of the carriage and carefully closed the door behind her so as not to awaken the coachman. She hadn’t taken a step before Killer gave a soft bark.

  William hushed his pet and glanced over his shoulder at her. “I was wondering when you were coming out. Dinner is served.”

  She rearranged her skirts and sat down on the log at his side. The rabbit carcass was stretched on a crude wooden spit over the flames, and drops of fat fell and sizzled. William cut off a leg bone and held it out to her.

  She stared in dismay at the knife he’d used.

  “Don’t worry,” he said with a wicked grin. “I washed the knife in the stream after I skinned the rabbit.”

  With resignation, she carefully took the meat in her hand, leaning out away from her skirt to blow on it. He did the same, and they ate their initial helping in silence.

  “We should awaken Barlow,” he said.

  “Not yet. We have things to discuss.”

  She heard his sigh.

  “Who was that man you were just talking to—and don’t pretend ignorance,” Jane added coldly. “You’ve been keeping things from me since the beginning of our relationship, and I refuse to accept it anymore. Who was that old man, and why did that other man attack Mr. Barlow? And how did you understand the language he spoke?”

  William stared at his sticky fingers for a moment before wiping them with a rag. “All right. I understand that things have gone too far now to keep you in the dark. But I’ve only been trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me from what?” she demanded with exasperation.

  He hesitated, and she could see from his face that he didn’t know where to start.

  “Do you know what your father did in the army?”

  Her mouth tightened. “You are avoiding my questions again.”

  “No, this is very pertinent. Answer me.”

  “He was a soldier with the army of the East India Company. What more do you want me to say?”

  “That wasn’t all he did. He was a spymaster controlling a team of field agents.”

  While he continued to study her, she could think of nothing to say as her thoughts whirled in confusion. Could it be true?

  “I was under his command, as was the man I was just speaking to.”

  She had thought nothing more could shock her—but she’d been wrong. “You…were in the army,” she said slowly, trying to grasp a new picture of William in her mind.

  “For thirteen years I’ve been away from England, first in India, and then in Afghanistan.”

  “You…were a spy.” She could barely get the words out. Talkative, irreverent William had lived a life of adventure, of danger and excitement? He couldn’t be lying—all she had to do was speak to her father to verify it. But her father had never told her these things either, and she felt sick with the knowledge. “You lied to me,” she whispered, then felt tears sting her eyes. “You both lied to me.”

  “Jane, that is what the government required of us,” he said in a low, soot
hing voice. “Secrets are kept for England’s safety, not to play some sort of trick on you. I wouldn’t be telling you any of this if you hadn’t seen too much today. Even now, I can’t answer all of your questions, or I’d be risking the lives of too many people.”

  “My father—”

  “Is a great man, my sweet, and he loves you very much. I have known and worked for him for many years.”

  She sniffed and tried to compose herself. “So that is why he betrothed me to you. You aren’t just a neighbor or a business partner.”

  “That’s true.”

  Taking a deep breath, she turned to stare directly into his wary eyes, burying her unsettled emotions. Later, she would deal with how all this affected her. “So what is going on? Are you still a spy?”

  “No. I left that life last year. It wasn’t something I’d initially wanted. I’d been an officer, and I was good at it. When the Political department heard about my talent at languages—”

  “Languages!” she cried, feeling the heat of embarrassment and anger in her cheeks. “Why did you let me make a fool of myself?”

  “But I didn’t!” he protested. “I thought you were sweet and earnest and endearing.”

  “What language did that criminal speak to you in?”

  “Persian.”

  Feeling faint, she whispered, “How many languages do you know?”

  “I…think I’ve lost count.”

  She groaned and put her hot face in her hands. She had a sudden memory of that naughty French book she’d been reading at the estate outside London. Had he known what she’d held in her trembling hands? Had he deliberately made her read aloud? She didn’t want to know.

  When he touched her head, she reared up and pushed him away. “Even if you couldn’t tell me the truth about the kind of life you’d been leading, why was it necessary to hide your proficiency at languages and your skills at so many other things? William, you talked about fabric, for heaven’s sake!”

  “I needed to fit into your world, Jane. You would have asked questions about what I did with such skills, and I didn’t want to lie any more than I had to.”