His Forbidden Liaison: A brotherhood of spies in Napoleonic France (The Aikenhead Honours Book 3)

by Joanna Maitland

  Jack caught up Alex's hand and carried it to his lips. "No need to introduce me, Dominic, for we—"

  "Jack Aikenhead!" Cousin Harriet was outraged. She stormed down to the end of the table and put herself between Jack and the duke's wife. "I clearly did not tan your hide well enough when I had the chance. Where are your manners, pray? This lady is the wife of the head of the family. Since you are now meeting her for the first time, it is your duty to allow yourself to be properly introduced."

  Jack started, and coloured. Marguerite thought he looked deliciously confused. He was being his usual self, generous and direct. He was forgetting that, while the whole family might know that Alex had visited them before, in her guise as a Russian cavalry officer, it could never be spoken of, even at private gatherings such as this. No one must so much as hint that Alex was anything other than what she appeared to be, a beautiful, elegant, aristocratic lady.

  "Oh." Jack swallowed. "I ask you to forgive my impertinence, sister." He bowed low over Alex's hand. "I am delighted to meet you at last. Dominic is a very lucky man."

  Alex dipped him a tiny curtsey. There was an impish smile on her lips. It remained and widened while the duke introduced her, more sedately, to Leo.

  The new duchess was a remarkable and admirable woman, Marguerite decided. She hoped that the two of them would become friends, as she and Sophie had already done. If only Suzanne and their mother could join them, too, Marguerite's happiness would be complete.

  "Well," said the dowager with satisfaction, looking round the table once all the rest of the introductions had been made, "that is splendid." The duke sat at the head, as was his right, with Alex at the opposite end. The dowager had readily yielded up her place and moved alongside the new duchess. "Would you wish me to ring for some refreshments, my dear? You and Dominic must be hungry after your journey."

  Withering appeared in answer to her summons. He stood impassively while Alex instructed him, in English with a slight Scottish burr, to bring a light supper for the duke and herself. "At once, your Grace," Withering said, bowing.

  "Well done, my dear." The dowager patted Alex's hand.

  Alex was trying not to laugh. "Dominic has had me practising for months, ma'am." She paused. "He tells me I am improving," she added dryly.

  "He is an impudent rascal," the duchess said behind her hand. "I hope you intend to cure him of that?"

  Marguerite laughed, along with the men. But Alex's response was only an enigmatic smile.

  It took a considerable time for all the questions to be asked and answered, for the duke had been away from England for even longer than his brothers. "I am most curious to discover," he commented wryly, "how a couple of ne'er-do-wells like Leo and Jack managed to persuade these beautiful and accomplished ladies to marry them. It's more than an old greybeard like me can fathom."

  That produced much protest, followed by a colourful recital of Leo's adventures in Vienna and Jack's in France. The account of the two courtships was rather more restrained.

  Marguerite could not bear to wait any longer. The duke had come through London. And he had visited the Foreign Office. "Was there any news from Lyons, your Grace, when you—?" She stopped abruptly as the duke raised his eyebrows and shook his head slightly. Heavens, did that mean the news was bad? She put a shaky hand to her mouth.

  "Forgive me, sister, I did not mean to alarm you." He nodded reassuringly at her. "London has no news from Lyons yet, I'm afraid. My reaction was simple shock at hearing such a polite mode of address at my family table."

  "He is not used to hearing any politeness here at all," Cousin Harriet put in, tartly, "even though—"

  "Thank you, Harriet." The duke's quiet authority stopped Harriet in mid-tirade. He smiled warmly at each of his sisters-in-law in turn. "I hope that both of you ladies will feel able to call me 'Dominic'. For we are all family now, are we not?"

  "Of course we are, Dom," Jack put in, "and the ladies must be 'Marguerite' and 'Sophie', too."

  Dominic threw Jack a look that was part indulgence, part exasperation.

  Marguerite tried not to smile. She knew that mixture of reactions very well.

  "That will be a decision for Lady Leo and Lady Jack, brother, as you know very well. And for my duchess, too." He sent a glowing smile down the table to his wife.

  Marguerite recognised the tender warmth in the duke's eyes. Jack often looked at her in exactly that way, with a smile full of love and intimacy.

  Alex smiled back at her husband and agreed at once that her new brothers should call her by name. Marguerite followed suit, as did Sophie.

  "Excellent," said the duke. "Though I should deem it a great favour, sisters, if you would refrain from calling me 'Dom' as that impudent brat—" he nodded across at Jack "—is wont to do."

  That provoked laughter up and down the table. Even from Jack, Marguerite was pleased to see. The closeness and understanding of the Aikenheads was something very special. She felt privileged to have been welcomed into this extraordinary family. But her own family was still in Lyons, still in danger. Without news, she continued to fear for them, very much.

  Dominic must have read her fears on her face. "Try not to worry, Marguerite," he said, reaching across to lay his hand briefly on top of hers. "I am sure that Ben will have done everything possible to keep your family safe. For all we know, he may be with them still, defending them. Indeed, he would have been wise to stay. By the time he was well enough to start for England, there would have been little point in leaving, since you and Jack had already brought the intelligence that mattered. And travel in Europe has been very difficult these last few months, as I'm sure you both discovered. Very rough crossings, too." He paused. A wicked twinkle came into his eyes. "Jack enjoyed his time at sea, I dare say."

  "Thank you for your concern, your Grace," Jack replied, straight-faced.

  Dominic grinned. "You're welcome, brother." He turned back to Marguerite. He was looking very serious, on a sudden. "My agents in London, and at the ports, will send word the moment there is any news from Lyons. But I think we should perhaps make our own plans sooner than that. This is a family matter now. And the Aikenheads look after their own." He glanced across at Leo, then at Jack. Both nodded. Neither of them smiled.

  Marguerite watched, stunned. What was going to happen now?

  "If you will excuse us for a space, ladies—" Dominic rose to his feet and his brothers immediately followed suit "—the Aikenhead Honours have work to do."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Next morning, when Jack came in from the stables, he found Aikenhead Park full of bustle and purpose. No wonder. The duke was back in charge. And the duke was grimly determined to defend Marguerite's family—part of the Aikenhead family now, he had declared—in spite of the risks of crossing newly-defeated France.

  Jack was hoping they could rescue Ben, too. No one had said it, but they all knew that the fourth member of the Aikenhead Honours should have been back in England long since. If Ben had left Lyons, instead of staying to protect Suzanne and her mother, he might well be dead, somewhere on his journey across France and Spain. Jack refused to dwell on that. He told himself to concentrate instead on the plan to save Marguerite's family. His family now. Besides, he owed them all a debt. For had they not risked their lives to save him?

  Jack had completed his morning's tasks. He was sure that Leo would have more for him, but Leo was still off somewhere about the estate, organising travel and much else besides. The Honours relied on Leo, their "brigade major", to ensure that Dominic's plans could be executed with military precision. Jack had been merely a foot soldier in the team until that last mission.

  As had Ben.

  Jack must not think about Ben. At present, there was nothing he could do to help his friend. But he could deal with the other urgent matter that had been preying on his conscience. It had almost caused a rift between him and Marguerite. It had to be resolved.

  The time was now.

  He took a deep breat
h, knocked softly on Dominic's study door and stuck his head round.

  Dominic had been working for hours, Jack knew, even though he had finally made it home so late the day before. Since the three brothers were agreed on this final—and urgent—mission for the Aikenhead Honours, there was a great deal of preparation to be done. In very short order.

  Dominic looked up, frowning at the interruption.

  "Do you have a moment, Dominic?"

  His brother's eyebrows shot up. They both knew that Jack only used Dominic's full name when things were serious.

  This was exceedingly serious. And it had to be done. Without delay.

  Dominic waved Jack in. "I can give you five minutes. No more."

  Five minutes would be long enough. Jack straightened his back and marched across to stand in front of the huge mahogany desk. "I'll be brief, then," he began. "You, er, you won't like this, Dominic, but…"

  The duke leaned back in his chair and gazed up at Jack with narrowed eyes. He said nothing at all. He looked steely.

  Jack's slick prepared speech deserted him. The truth came out in a rush of bald words. "I'm sorry, but I need to ask you for a very large loan."

  "Ah. How much?" the duke asked quietly.

  "Thirty-two thousand."

  Dominic's eyes widened. Then he grimaced. "I see. Gambling again, I suppose? To whom do you owe this small fortune, might I ask?"

  "Leo."

  "What?" Dominic was on his feet in a second. And he was seething.

  Jack backed off a step. "I didn't think Leo would have told you," he muttered. His shoulders slumped. But then he forced himself to look his furious brother full in the face and confess every last one of his sins—how he had stupidly gone to a gaming hell and lost a fortune to a Prussian from the embassy; how Leo had mortgaged practically everything he owned in order to tow Jack out of River Tick; and how they had then raced off to Vienna with barely enough money to live on. "I promise I will pay you back, Dominic," Jack finished, conscious of how lame that must sound, "though I know it will take years."

  "It will take most of your allowance, too," Dominic retorted, still glaring down at Jack. "Difficult, when you have a gambling habit to support. And a wife, as well."

  "But I've stopped gambling," Jack protested. "Didn't visit the tables at all when we were in Vienna. Ask Leo. He'll tell you it's true. I swore to him that I would give it up. And I have."

  "Have you, indeed?" Dominic was beginning to sound slightly more like his normal self. He sat down and motioned Jack to the seat opposite. "I will arrange to redeem Leo's mortgages, obviously. Any debt you have incurred should be owed to me, as head of the family." He studied Jack's face for what seemed a long time.

  Jack returned his brother's stern gaze without flinching. He would accept Dominic's verdict. And his sentence.

  Jack held his breath and waited for the axe to fall. It was what he deserved.

  "Very well," Dominic said at last. "Since have given up gambling, and you have Leo to vouch for that, I will forgive your debt. Call it a wedding present, if you like."

  Jack was lost for words. Even for a man as rich as Dominic, Jack's losses were enormous. He had been such a fool, and—

  Dominic leaned forward. "Leo tells me that this last mission has, er, sobered you."

  Jack was surprised into a snort of laughter. "Did he? You mean he's decided I'm no longer 'the spoiled brat' of the family?"

  "Something along those lines." Dominic chuckled. "Something about having seen the error of your ways, too. I dare say marriage to Marguerite may have helped?"

  Jack felt himself reddening. He was heartily ashamed of how childishly he had behaved in the past, even though it all seemed such a long time ago. That was before he'd led his own mission. Before he'd found Marguerite. He understood responsibility now. And he welcomed it. "I love her, Dominic." It was the simple truth. "I do not deserve such a wonderful wife."

  Dominic nodded. "Perhaps not, but it is your duty to support her now. And I doubt your present allowance will run to that." When Jack tried to interrupt, Dominic raised a hand. "Let me finish, brat." He sounded testy.

  It was a pose. Jack relaxed a little in his chair. If Dominic was calling him "brat" again, they were getting back to their old, easy-going relationship. As brothers. And as friends. It made him realise how much he had been risking. Before.

  "Since you will soon be twenty-five, it is time you had an estate of your own. Especially since you are married. I promised Papa that I would make both you and Leo independent. Leo has had The Larches for nearly ten years. Your turn now, brat."

  "But you can't," Jack objected, thunderstruck. "Not on top of thirty-two—"

  "I can," the duke said flatly. "It is a debt of honour. To Papa."

  There was no possible answer to that. Both brothers fell silent. They understood each other on this. The Aikenhead sons had long mourned the father they had lost when Jack was still in short coats.

  The study door opened. There had been no knock to break the silence.

  Dominic looked up. His face cleared. "Ah, Leo. Exactly the man I need to see."

  Leo laid a sheaf of papers on his brother's desk and nodded casually to Jack. "All arranged according to your instructions, Dominic. Should be able to leave at first light tomorrow."

  "Excellent. I knew I could rely on you, Leo. But there's one thing I omitted to say…" Dominic smiled tightly. "I should have thought of it last night, but—"

  "But you'd been travelling for weeks. You were exhausted. Not surprising if that great brain of yours was not quite as lightning-fast as usual."

  Dominic ignored Leo's backhanded compliment. "There's no knowing what ruffians we might encounter in France or what they might do. Our own servants will not be enough if it comes to a fight. We'll need to take a few stout fellows as well. Can you organise that, Leo?"

  Leo nodded.

  "I can help," Jack put in. This was something he could certainly do. He knew every man on the Aikenhead estate.

  "By the end of the day, I trust?" Dominic added.

  "Of course." Leo sounded very sure. He turned for the door. "If you're ready, Jack? Better make a start on rounding up this little army of ours. About a dozen handy lads, y'think, Ace?"

  "Yes. With weapons, of course."

  "Of course," Leo repeated.

  Jack preceded Leo to the door. He was reaching for the handle when Dominic said, airily, "By the way, Leo, were you planning to mention thirty-two thousand pounds, at all?"

  Marguerite had never known so much laughter round a dinner table. Her husband and his brothers seemed determined that there should be no mention of anything that might cloud the family's merriment. And they had succeeded. Even Marguerite had found herself laughing, in spite of her worries.

  When Alex rose in her place to suggest the ladies withdraw, Dominic rose, too. "No. Stay." It was not a request.

  This was the formidable Duke of Calder. Who could stand against such a man? Insight shivered down Marguerite's spine. Then it sparked into warmth as she realised that all the Aikenhead power was about to be deployed in defence of her own family.

  "If you please, ladies," the duke added, moderating his tone a little.

  "As you wish, Dominic." Alex bowed her head the merest fraction and resumed her seat.

  "This will be our last meal together for some time. You ladies—you indomitable Aikenhead ladies, who have shown such sterling qualities over this last year—will have gleaned that we are preparing for another mission. I believe you are entitled to know what your menfolk are about. So I will tell you what we are going to do. And why."

  Dominic's authority as leader was clear in every word. "Marguerite's mother and sister are in danger in Lyons. They have only one old man to defend them. Plus Ben, if he has had the sense to stay. If they were to become known as royalists—and we know from Marguerite that her mama's injuries have affected her judgement and made her indiscreet—Bonaparte's defeated supporters might well attack them, for revenge.
We hear that reprisals of that kind are not uncommon. However, I can assure you that we will not allow such a thing to happen. The wars may be over, but not for the Aikenhead Honours. We have completed our preparations for this final mission. We leave at first light."

  There was silence. Dominic resumed his seat. His resolute gaze rested on each of his family members in turn. Finally, his gaze reached his wife and his expression softened.

  Marguerite closed her eyes for a second and sighed out a long breath. "Wh–what exactly do you intend to do once you land in France, Dominic?"

  "We shall travel to Lyons by the fastest possible route—my yacht lies at Dover so we should have a speedy crossing—and we will bring your mother and sister back to you. And then the marquise may live in comfort here in England, with her own servants around her, for as long as she desires."

  It was more than Marguerite had dared to hope for. She tried to thank him, but he brushed her words aside with a shake of his head and a warm smile. "No need, my dear sister. They are both family. As are you."

  She swallowed hard, trying to control the tears of joy and gratitude that were welling up in her eyes. "Thank you, brother," she whispered at last.

  It was their last night together before Jack left for France. He had not said a word about crossing the Channel, though he must be dreading it. Marguerite could only hope that the duke's famous tisane would make Jack's ordeal more bearable. He was probably trying hard not to think about it at all. So she would not say anything, either.

  She had sent her maid away. She would need help to remove her gown but, from the gleam in her husband's eyes, it was clear that he was eager to act as abigail. She fancied undressing might be a slow and very enjoyable process.

  She unhooked her earrings and dropped them onto the dressing table. "Your brother can be quite, er, quite intimidating, can he not?" she began airily. "He has power, of course. And it shows."

  "Intimidating?" Jack slumped down onto the end of the bed. "I'll say. He looked positively forbidding when I was making my confession and—" He stopped dead. In the ensuing silence, the colour drained from his face.