Pursuing The Traitor (Scandals and Spies Book 5)

by Leighann Dobbs

  “It’s a surprise.” He turned down another street. Only one more and they would nearly be there.

  His heart beat quick. Too quick, to be honest. Something irked him, a buzz in the back of his mind like an itch that could not be ignored. The closer he got to his destination, the louder it roared.

  Lucy laid her hand on his. Her thumb landed in the exposed strip between his glove and sleeve. The touch of her bare skin against his felt as though he was struck by lightning. It ignited something in him, something long buried and all but forgotten.

  He loved her. He would never put her in harm’s way. He was doing just that. Monsieur V could hold nothing but ill will toward her.

  Swearing, Alex yanked the horses to a stop. He lurched from the phaeton, storming toward the nearest building. He rested the palm of his hand on the brick façade. What had he almost done? What had happened to him?

  Frustration, anger, and self-loathing mounted like an inevitable tide. He punched the wall. As pain splintered through his hand, he hissed and drew back.

  “What is wrong with you?” Lucy sounded appalled.

  Yes, what was wrong with him?

  “Go. Get back in that phaeton and turn around. Can you drive?” She was curious and capable; it seemed like the sort of thing she might have learned.

  But he’d taken such a winding path to reach this neglected part of London that she might have been turned around.

  “I’m not leaving you. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  Shaking out his hand, he kept his back turned to her. How? How could he possibly tell her what he had been about to do? How had Monsieur V dug so far beneath his skin? Alex’s hatred for the man was soul-deep. It ate at him. Never, for a second, should he have considered doing anything but killing the traitor.

  Morgan had been right not to trust him. Hell and damnation, Alex didn’t even trust himself!

  Lucy feathered her fingers over his back. Her touch was light, at first. After a moment, when he didn’t pull away, she grew bolder.

  “You haven’t been yourself tonight.”

  “I haven’t been myself in weeks.”

  The sound of his breath was overly loud in his ears. He shut his eyes as he wrestled with the implications of what he’d done, what he was ready to do. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself for that. The silence was shattered by the stamp of the horse’s hoof. The carriage creaked as if one of the bays had a mind to continue walking. Alex turned away and caught the reins, preventing them from leaving.

  They stood in the middle of a darkened street. The nearest street lamp was at least twenty feet back, the foggy circle of its light not quite stretching far enough to illuminate the street in more than dismal blacks and grays. Lucy’s eyes were bright, reflecting that light. Was she crying?

  If he’d made her cry, it was only one more sin to add to a long list. He gritted his teeth and stared at the sky. How had he let this happen?

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “You should have been more worried about yourself. You shouldn’t be in this area of London, certainly not at this hour.” And no one knew of their departure; he’d made certain of that.

  “I know I’m safe with you.”

  But she wasn’t. She wouldn’t have been.

  Fisting the reins in one hand, he rubbed at the throb in his temple with the other. “No, you aren’t. You need to get back home. Immediately.”

  Lucy had never been particularly obedient when it came to keeping herself out of harm’s way. His warning didn’t change that attitude in the least. She drew herself up and crossed her arms.

  “It’s your carriage.”

  “I give you leave to take it.” He held out the reins.

  She made no move to accept them. “And where do you intend to go?”

  “I have business to which I must attend.” He spoke the words through gritted teeth. It was the same business he’d meant to take care of weeks ago. This time, Monsieur V would not gain the upper hand.

  “Then I’m coming with you.”

  No. His heart pinched. He couldn’t let her do that. Monsieur V was expecting her; he had plans for her. Whatever those plans were, Alex could not let them come to fruition.

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Then you’ll have to leave me here, in the middle of an unlit street in a dangerous neighborhood.”

  The neighborhood wasn’t nearly as dangerous as some of the places Alex had been, though it was a far cry from Lucy’s townhouse in Mayfair. Alex clenched his teeth and looked down. He knew where Monsieur V was…he could kill him now and the danger would be over.

  But he couldn’t leave Lucy to her own devices. He was the reason she was here to begin with.

  She stepped closer, cupping his cheek in her hand. Her touch was warm. He turned his face into it.

  “What’s going on, Alex?”

  He flinched and pulled away. “Monsieur V is waiting less than a block away.”

  “You were taking me to meet him?” Her voice was heavy with a frown.

  “I was.” It cost him to admit that much. His stomach tied itself into intricate knots.

  “Why?”

  He didn’t know the answer to that. He couldn’t fathom how, for a second, he might ever have considered deliberately bringing her into a dangerous man’s clutches.

  Defeated, he muttered, “Because he told me to.”

  Lucy dropped her hand. He half-expected her to slap him, but she didn’t. He would deserve it.

  That, and so much more.

  The silence rang until she filled it. “You hate Monsieur V.”

  “I do.” He’d forgotten that for a time.

  “I don’t understand.”

  He sighed. “Neither do I.”

  Her form swayed in front of him, as if she was shifting on the balls of her feet as she thought. “No one knows where Monsieur V resides.”

  “I do.” Or, at the very least, he knew where to meet the man. It amounted to the same thing.

  “You told me otherwise. My brother—”

  “Doesn’t know, either.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I lied. You have to go back home, Lucy.”

  “Not until I understand. What happened to you?”

  He wondered that, himself. Hanging his head, he admitted, “Monsieur V was at that address you found, but he got the upper hand. He captured me. I don’t remember… I don’t rightly know what happened after that. It’s all such a fog. By the time he released me back, I was willing to do anything he said.”

  How was that even possible? The man had killed his father and brother. There was no way Alex would have cooperated with such a man.

  And yet…he had.

  For an impossibly long moment, Lucy was silent. Alex’s lungs ached from holding his breath. He forced himself to exhale.

  “If you brought me to him, would he have killed me?”

  He matched the softness of her voice. “I don’t know.”

  “Would you have let him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “When you said—”

  He raised his voice. “I don’t know what I said, Lucy. I don’t remember.”

  “It was memorable to me.”

  It must have been. He was supposed to have driven her away. He rubbed at his head. “It’s all such a fog. I don’t recall much of anything anymore.”

  “You told me that you didn’t care about me. That you’d only pretended in order to get information from me.”

  “You know that’s a lie.”

  Did she? He must have been convincing in order for her to give up on him. She wasn’t the type to give up—on anything.

  “And tonight? When you said that you’d changed your mind?”

  He rubbed his throbbing forehead. “Forget everything I’ve said in the past few weeks. I wasn’t myself.”

  “And are you back to being yourself?”

  She sounded accusing. Perhaps she should. He gritted his teeth and
nodded.

  “I am.”

  Not that she could take him for his word, not after the lie upon lie he must have heaped upon her. When he tried to pull up the memory, his head throbbed. It was like trying to see in the pitch black. Whereas there had been some dim recollection earlier, now there was nothing there.

  Perhaps it was better that he didn’t know exactly what he’d done. It would only make him feel guiltier.

  She stepped closer, granting him no quarter. “Then how do you feel about me?”

  “I love you.”

  He’d meant to tell her that he cared for her. Perhaps that he admired and esteemed her. The profession of the true depth of his feelings slipped from between his lips unbidden. Now that the words had tasted the air, he couldn’t hide them any longer. Nor take them back.

  He held his breath. When he’d taken that page from her notebook weeks ago, he’d been certain she would loathe him for it. Now he’d managed to hurt her so much worse in the interim. He had no hope of hearing her confess to the same tender feeling for him, and yet…

  “I love you, too.”

  Her voice was thick with emotion. Maybe even tears. He hooked the reins around a decorative flourish in the phaeton design, hoping that the bays wouldn’t think to escape again. He had to touch her.

  He reached out to cup her cheeks. “Are you crying?”

  She was. He gently wiped away the moisture beneath her eyes, then gently kissed each cheek. His eyes stung as well at the reminder of how he’d hurt her. “I never meant to hurt you. If you’ll believe nothing else, please believe that.”

  “This was Monsieur V’s doing.”

  Was it? If he loved her so much, he should have been able to break the spymaster’s hold on him sooner. But at least he’d been able to break it in time. That counted for something, didn’t it?

  He still didn’t know how he’d done it—or why Monsieur V had succeeded so well with him before. If it was torture, he would have endured it had he known that he would make Lucy cry.

  He’d known from the beginning that he didn’t deserve a woman like her, but this seemed to make it worse.

  The mention of the spymaster’s name reminded him where they were. He kissed her forehead, then stepped back. “We can’t stay here. I’ll drop you off at your townhouse again.”

  She captured his wrist. “And then what will you do?”

  He gritted his teeth. “I’ll do what I should have done the first time. I’ll kill him. I know where he is now.”

  Her hand tightened. “Don’t.”

  The word coiled through him. She wouldn’t ask him to give up his revenge. She couldn’t. If he had to choose between her or avenging his family…

  “I have to, Lucy. He’s a monster. Look what he made me do—” He cut off, afraid that he couldn’t hide behind Monsieur V as an excuse. Why hadn’t he stopped himself? He would probably agonize over that for the rest of his life. “He deserves to die.”

  “He deserves to be caught. My brother can use him and the information he provides. Catching or killing him could make the difference in the lives of other spies. We need him alive, Alex.”

  “And I need him dead.” His voice brooked no argument. For too long he’d fantasized about this. He’d made it his solitary mission in life. He couldn’t let that go.

  “Be smart about this,” Lucy begged. “We can eradicate this evil if we work together. We can both get what we want.”

  Could they? Or would Monsieur V talk his way out of Crown custody with his strange mind manipulations. He wouldn’t put it past him. After all, he’d made Alex do something he’d never thought he would be capable of. His mind persuasion—yes, that must be exactly what it was—was very powerful.

  “If you care for me at all, you won’t do this alone. You’ll talk to my brothers.”

  She was asking him to choose between her and his revenge, after all. He stared at her, his heart aching, before he pronounced, “I do care for you. More deeply than I’ve ever cared for someone else.” He shut his eyes to stave off the pain of his decision. “Let’s go talk to your brother, then.”

  He chose her.

  30

  By the time Alex finished explaining himself, his throat was sore from talking. He didn’t know if any of the information was relevant, but he’d dug as deep into his memory as possible and tried to unearth every small detail. The fact that the past few weeks, ever since Monsieur V had captured him, were a blur did not make it easier.

  Nevertheless, for Lucy, he tried.

  His voice rang into the silence as he finished. Although the night was mild, a fire had been lit in the hearth in Tenwick’s office to shed light. Morgan stood at one corner of his desk, his eyes like ice as if he tried to freeze Alex where he sat. On the other corner of the wide oak desk, Tristan leaned his hip and crossed his arms. Neither seemed particularly welcoming or trusting. Alex fought not to fidget. It would be an admission of guilt.

  He sat in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. Lucy sat next to him, tapping her heel or rearranging her skirts as he’d spoken. Now that he’d stopped, she reached out to squeeze his hand.

  His heart skipped a beat. Don’t draw attention to yourself, love. She was fearless. Perhaps she had reason to be; her brothers would never harm her. Alex, on the other hand…

  He didn’t have the heart to pull away, so he squeezed her back. Morgan noticed the touch, his eyes narrowing and that eerie stare sharpening. Aside from that indication of his displeasure, the duke showed no outward sign of his emotions. Alex might as well have delivered his story to a portrait.

  His heartbeat thundered in the silence. A crackle of wood nearly made him jump before he covered himself. He released Lucy’s hand to wipe his sweaty palm on his breeches.

  Morgan turned his attention to his sister. Although it should have been a welcome reprieve, Alex bristled. She’s blameless in this.

  “Leave us, Lucy.” Tenwick’s voice was clipped.

  She clenched her fists on her lap. “No.”

  “This has nothing to do with you.”

  “The devil it doesn’t!” She jumped to her feet, her expression fierce. “We started this together. That’s how we’ll finish it, too.”

  Tristan Graylocke straightened. He resembled his brother in build and hair color, but didn’t share the eerily light eyes. Despite that, he managed to appear just as formidable.

  “Lucy, trust me. You’re not going to want to be here for this next part.”

  Alex stiffened. They were going to interrogate him as if he was an enemy spy. Alex would do the same in their position, but it didn’t make the notion sound any more appealing. Tristan was right; Lucy shouldn’t be in the room for that. He didn’t know how far the two men were willing to take the interrogation, but if there was any chance it would cause him pain, he’d rather not subject Lucy to viewing it.

  Give me the truth serum. Unfortunately, the serum that Gideon Graylocke had created with his wife was far from limitless. It took time and rare ingredients to make; he didn’t know if Tenwick had any on hand in his townhouse to give, or if Lord Strickland took command of the supply.

  Lucy rounded on the duke. “I’m not leaving. I love him and I’m staying right here!”

  I love him. Three words Alex had never thought to hear in reference to himself. He ached to kiss her, but restrained himself. He didn’t know how she could be so adamant on the subject. He’d treated her abysmally, and he hadn’t been a heroic sort of man before then, either. Not the kind of man women fell in love with. But she had, and Heaven help him because he returned those feelings tenfold.

  He reached out to catch her hand, squeezing it. “Lucy, I’ll be all right. Your brothers just have a few more questions to ask, is all.”

  She frowned at him. “I’m staying. I don’t care if we’re here all night.”

  He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “They’re sensitive questions, love. Things that you don’t yet know about the spy network. It won’t take long,
I’m sure.”

  She narrowed her thickly-lashed eyes, as if she didn’t quite believe him. Just as well, since he was lying through his teeth. Trying to keep his expression calm and composed, he added gently, “Do you trust your brothers?”

  “Of course.” She answered without hesitation.

  “Then so do I.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “We’ll be done in a moment.”

  Morgan added, “If you’ll wait in the corridor or in one of the parlors, I’ll let you know the moment we finish.”

  Lucy held Alex’s gaze for a moment, her expression conflicted. Then, her face stony, she turned to her brothers and looked each one in the eye. “I’m waiting in the corridor.” She turned her gaze back to Alex. “If you need me…”

  “I’ll be fine. I love you.” A flush crept up his neck at uttering those words in front of her brothers, but she looked as though she needed to hear them. She relaxed a bit, her shoulders lowering from their hostile stance. With a curt nod, she turned on her heel, strode from the room, and shut the door behind her. Tristan followed, locking it before he turned back.

  Alex curled his fist over his knees. His hand felt empty without Lucy’s in it. He tried not to show the weakness.

  As he lifted his gaze to the Graylocke brothers, he said, “You’re going to get the same answers out of me. This will go a lot quicker and easier if you give me a bit of truth serum.”

  Tenwick exchanged a glance with his brother. “We can call for some, but it will take a while to arrive.”

  Blast, it had been more than Alex should have hoped for.

  He gritted his teeth. “We don’t have that kind of time. Monsieur V is expecting me to bring Lucy to him tonight. At the very least, I’ll have to show up in person to offer an excuse.” Perhaps it was best that he didn’t take the serum, after all. He didn’t know how long it took to wear off and it would be disastrous to still suffer the effects while engaging with the French spymaster.

  He stifled a sigh and squared his shoulders. “Very well, let’s get on with it. But try not to leave any marks. I’d rather not upset Lucy.”

  Did Lucy hear something? The men had been in that office alone for an hour now. The wood was thick and she barely caught their muffled voices, let alone any other sound. Her feet ached from pacing back and forth as she waited. She was worried. What were they doing in there? Morgan and Tristan hadn’t seemed in the friendliest of moods when she’d left.