If he were Perrine, he would have arranged a method of escape, Dare thought; perhaps more than one. He might have crossed the bridge and disappeared in a closed carriage. Or he could have planned to leave by river, thinking no one would suspect that mode of transportation.
Dare ran to his right, along the upper level of the quay, perhaps a hundred yards past the bridge, seeing nothing suspicious in the milling crowds or on the lower level below him. Retracing his steps, he went east another hundred yards beyond the bridge-and saw exactly what he dreaded.
Twenty yards ahead, beside a skiff that was tied up at the quay, a man and woman struggled.
The sight made Dare's heart go ice cold. Perrine held a pistol to Julienne's head as she resisted getting in the small craft, while the boatman looked on uncertainly.
Dare skidded to a halt, gripping his musket, momentarily torn between taking the stone steps he'd just passed or making the ten-foot drop to the lower level. It was too far to shoot accurately without risking hitting Julienne.
The choice was taken from him, however, when Perrine glanced up and spied him. "That is close enough, Wolverton!" he called, dragging Julienne in front of him to use as a shield.
"Let her go, Perrine!" Dare shouted in reply. He heard the desperate edge in his own voice and cursed himself; it was foolish to reveal to his enemy how much he cared.
Aiming the musket, Dare moved closer, till he was almost directly above them, and repeated his demand more calmly. "I said let her go."
"I don't believe I will. She is my security."
"You must realize that you have lost, Perrine. You failed to kill Lord Castlereagh, and you left alive a witness who can identify you as Caliban."
Perrine shook his head sadly. "Alas, that is regrettable. And my career may be at an end. But I have a fortune to last me a lifetime, and I mean to disappear. I warn you, Wolverton, if you try to follow me, I will kill her. You know what I am capable of."
Dare offered him an icy smile. "But you have no notion what I am capable of. If you hurt her, you won't be safe anywhere, I promise you. I will find you wherever you hide, even if it is the ends of the earth."
"You may try. Meanwhile, I hold the upper hand here. Put down your weapon, or I will blow her brains out."
"Dare, don't listen to him!" Julienne exclaimed.
Gritting his teeth, Dare flexed his finger on the trigger of his musket. And yet he knew he couldn't take the chance that Perrine would make good his threat to kill Julienne. Reluctantly he averted the barrel of his gun, but he took a step closer, hoping to draw Perrine's fire.
The ploy worked. Perrine shifted his aim, pointing his pistol directly at Dare's heart.
In that instant, Julienne whirled and attacked her captor, arms flailing, nails raking, trying to scratch his eyes out, diverting his attention.
Seizing the opportunity, Dare leapt the ten feet to the lower quay, just as Perrine struck her a vicious blow. Dare saw Julienne fall back as he landed with a jarring thud and sank to his knees. From the corner of his eye he watched her draw up her skirts and fumble for her knife. Perrine leveled the pistol at him once more.
Dare sprang from his crouch, moving at a dead run.
Julienne was there before him, though. Her knife held out in front of her, she charged Perrine. They collided with a jolt, knocking him to the quay and her falling with him.
Dare's heart stopped when they both remained unmoving.
Reaching them, he clutched Julienne's shoulder just as she drew a shaky breath. When she tried to push herself up, he hauled Julienne to her feet and dragged her behind him. But Perrine lay completely still.
With a foot, Dare cautiously rolled the prone man over onto his back. Perrine stared up at the sky with lifeless eyes. Julienne's knife protruded from his ribs, but it was the blood seeping from his temple that suggested the cause of his demise: his head had cracked open on the stone pavement when he landed.
Dare bent and pressed his fingers against the side of their nemesis's neck.
"He's dead," Dare said very softly.
Julienne shuddered. When Dare straightened and reached for her, she flung herself into his arms. Biting back a sob, she pressed her face into his shoulder and clung as he enfolded her in his embrace.
She was shaking badly, and so was he. She felt his pounding heartbeat as he scattered light, desperate kisses against her hair.
He drew back long enough to kiss her mouth hard, before wrapping his arms tightly around her again, as if afraid to let her go. "Are you all right?"
"No," she whispered in a trembling voice. "I was so terrified. I thought he would kill you."
"You were terrified?" His tone was incredulous. "That devil held a gun to your head and you were afraid for me?"
"Yes."
"You could not have been any more terrified than I was."
For a long moment, they simply held each other, celebrating their deliverance. It was longer still before Julienne began to feel her quakes subside.
She sighed, cherishing the protective circle of Dare's arms. "I'm glad it is finally over."
Dare made a fervent sound of agreement. "I'm glad you didn't need me to rescue you. I don't think I could have reached you in time." He raised his head, meeting her gaze. "I envy you, angel."
"For what?"
"You saved us both, and you had the satisfaction of killing that bastard." A strained but teasing smile curved Dare's lips. "Do you realize what a blow that is to my self-esteem? You might have allowed me to play the role of hero."
She gave a shaky laugh at his attempt to lighten the horror she was feeling at having taken a man's life. "I've engaged in enough stage fights during my acting career to know a trick or two."
"Well, I only wish I could have been spared the uncertainty. I lost ten years off my life in the last ten minutes." His gaze suddenly grew solemn as he searched her face. "We've lost too many years, Julienne."
Julienne flinched at the reminder, then felt her heart plummet as she remembered the vow she had made to herself. There would be no more years together. She would have to leave Dare now.
A slashing pain pierced her at the thought.
But she would be spared the devastation for at least a while longer, she realized, glancing up to see a crowd gathered above them on the upper level. "Now is not the time, Dare."
Even as she spoke, she saw Lord Castlereagh descending the stone steps toward them, followed immediately by his bodyguards. Julienne stepped back, relinquishing Dare's embrace.
Castlereagh took in the situation at a glance. "I believe I have you to thank for my life, Wolverton."
Dare shook his head. "No, it is Miss Laurent who deserves your thanks. She not only prevented your assassination, but she managed to dispatch the man responsible."
The foreign secretary looked down at Perrine's body. "So this is Caliban? The villain who murdered and blackmailed his way across half of Europe?"
"I have no doubt," Dare answered.
Raising his gaze, Castlereagh smiled gravely at Julienne. "Our countrymen owe you a tremendous debt, Miss Laurent. And so do I. It will be a great relief to no longer live in fear for my life. I hope you will tell me how I may repay you."
Julienne wanted to respond with a polite demur, but her legs suddenly felt as weak as wet noodles. "I think perhaps I should sit down, my lord."
"But of course. You have been through an ordeal that would drive most ladies into hysterics. Will you allow me to escort you back to the palace?" Castlereagh gave her his arm. "The king of France would like to express his own gratitude, I'm certain. And he will be delighted to hear the tale of how you defeated a deadly villain…"
Watching them walk away, Dare shuddered at the image of Perrine holding a pistol to Julienne's head, knowing it would haunt him for a very long time. He seized a raw breath, realizing how close he'd come to losing her.
He could not have gone on without her, he knew. Julienne held his heart, his soul.
He felt a fierce a
che in his chest as he watched her retreating figure. She had set a fire burning deep in his heart-but it remained for him to kindle the same fire in her heart, Dare thought grimly.
It would not be easy. He had felt her withdrawal just now, the same emotional resistance he'd sensed last night when he held her in his arms: hunger edged with despair.
Dare felt his hands curl into fists. He had no intention of losing Julienne now. He had initially pursued her for the wager, in order to ferret out her secrets, but he would do it earnestly this time.
He would find a way to truly earn her love and bind her to him for all time.
Chapter Eighteen
London, June 1814
If Julienne had been the subject of gossip before, upon her return to London she became a genuine celebrity.
In his dispatches Lord Castlereagh had lavishly praised her role in defeating a criminal mastermind, and the newspapers embellished the tale to make her into a heroine. According to the latest rumors, she and Dare had single-handedly brought down one of Napoleon's chief disciples.
Julienne discovered herself wildly popular with the commoners of London and even many members of the gentry. Her theater performances sold out every single night-which sent the temperamental Edmund Kean into fits of jealousy-and swarms of young bucks surrounded her backstage afterward. Riddingham preened for having helped lead them to Caliban.
Her fame soared further when the Prince Regent gave both her and Dare public commendations. Prinny was one of Dare's intimates, but it was a high honor for a mere actress to be invited to dine at Carleton House with the likes of General Lord Wellington and Marshal Blucher and the countless other dignitaries, royalty, and aristocrats celebrating the liberation of Europe.
Solange was delighted for her. "Enfin, you are getting the recognition and acceptance you deserve."
Julienne couldn't help but laugh. "I shall not allow the accolades to swell my head. Next week they will no doubt forget my name."
She well knew how fickle society could be. She was sought after now because she was a novelty and because she had been decorated by the Crown. But once the luster of her temporary acclaim wore off, the nobility at least would once more turn up their noses at her.
"And what does Lord Wolverton have to say to this?" Solange asked slyly.
Julienne returned a shrug. "I have scarcely spoken to him since our return from Paris."
Except for those few occasions when they were thrown together, such as the fete at Carleton House, Julienne had seen little of Dare. And there had been no opportunity at all to be intimate with him.
He'd claimed she should be allowed to bask in her moment of glory, but it surprised her that he didn't press her to share her bed. Nor could he be found among her coterie of admirers at the theater. For the present at least, he was no longer making even the slightest pretense of trying to win their wager. His public pursuit of her appeared to be abandoned.
Perhaps he assumed that he'd already won the victory, Julienne reflected. He might be so certain she would become his mistress that he no longer needed to expend any effort to woo her.
Or perhaps he had already moved on to another challenge. Their task of searching out a deadly spy was over. Dare had no further use for her in that regard, Julienne realized.
Or he might have found another love interest altogether. She tried desperately not to dwell on that possibility. She couldn't bear the thought of Dare spending his nights indulging in some other woman's charms- even if she herself intended to sever all ties with him very soon.
Of her continuing employment as a spy, she heard nothing whatsoever. But she knew Lord Wycliff was still in the country because his wife had been delivered of a son the second week of June, while Julienne and Dare were still in France.
Her first awareness that Lord and Lady Wycliff had returned to London was during rehearsals for Hamlet, when Julienne was practicing her lines as Ophelia.
Midway through Act III, she found herself summoned by the manager, Samuel Arnold, to his office, where a strikingly beautiful woman with flaming red hair waited. Arnold introduced Lady Wycliff and then withdrew to allow them privacy.
"I apologize for interrupting your rehearsals, Miss Laurent," Lady Wycliff said when they were both seated. "But I wished to extend you an invitation to a small dinner party I am holding, and I first needed to ascertain your availability. I will only schedule it when your performances permit you to attend."
Julienne raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I should be free next Tuesday and Wednesday, when a comedy is on the playbill."
"Then shall we say Tuesday?"
"I would be pleased to come," Julienne said, still puzzled.
Interpreting her quizzical look, Lady Wycliff gave her a wry smile. "It will be a social coup to have you, of course, considering your current fame, but that has nothing to do with why I'm eager for your presence. Lucian and I would like you to be our guest of honor. It will be a very small gathering, with only our closest friends."
"I'm not certain I understand, my lady."
"Please, will you call me Brynn? Titles are so formal, and I hope very much that we might become friends."
"Very well… But whyever would you want me as your guest of honor?"
Brynn's smile this time held a wealth of warmth. "Because I should like to express my gratitude in some small measure. I owe you a great deal, Miss Laurent. This is the first time in seven months that I've been free to enjoy the slightest privacy, without numerous bodyguards hounding my heels to protect me from Caliban. And I have you to thank for freeing my brother Grayson as well. Gray was forced into hiding last year in order to escape Caliban's retribution, but he will be able to return home now that the threat is gone."
Julienne grimaced. "My small role in Caliban's demise has been much exaggerated, I fear."
"I don't think so. Dare told me everything that happened in France-how you risked your life, and how you aided his investigation before that. He could never have located Caliban's trail if not for you. You are indeed a heroine."
Julienne felt her color rise at Brynn's effusive praise. "Dare had much more to do with defeating Caliban than I."
"Well, I would like to thank you both. You can't imagine how relieved I will be to have my brother back safely. Gray has been in Scotland all this time, ever since he… became entangled in Caliban's gold-smuggling operation last fall. Gray was badly wounded and barely escaped with his life, and he had to feign his death to protect his family. He took refuge at Lucian's castle in the Scottish Highlands. But Philip Barton has gone there to fetch Gray, so I'm hoping to see him any day now. Perhaps in time for my dinner, where he can thank you in person."
"Truly, thanks are not necessary, Lady Wycliff."
"Brynn, please. And may I call you Julienne?"
"Yes, if you wish to."
"I do. I would very much like us to become better acquainted. Dare speaks so highly of you. And I must confess, you have been good for him."
Julienne eyed her curiously. "What do you mean?"
"He seems more settled now, more serious, as if he has finally found a purpose in life. He is a very special man. Lucian and I both care for him a great deal. I would hate to see Dare hurt-" Brynn broke off with a slight shake of her head. "It is none of my business, of course."
"I certainly have no intention of hurting him," Julienne assured her.
"But your wager?" Her warm eyes searched Julienne's face. "I understand you vowed publicly to bring the Prince of Pleasure to his knees."
"Our wager was a scheme Dare concocted so he could pursue his investigation of Caliban," Julienne lied.
"Then you do care for Dare, at least a little?"
"Yes," she said in a low voice. "I care for him."
Brynn's smile was slow and brilliant. "I despaired of him ever finding a woman who could make him happy, but I think perhaps he might have succeeded. Well," she added briskly, rising, "I have kept you from your rehearsals long enough. I will send a carriage for y
ou next Tuesday at half past seven, if that will be convenient. Lucian knows your direction. It's his business to know those things." Brynn held out her hand to clasp Julienne's. "And if I may be of service to you in any manner whatsoever, please, you have only to let me know. I can never repay you."
When her visitor was gone, Julienne sat there for a long moment, remembering her admission that she cared for Dare.
She did care. Deeply. She was still wildly in love with him, even more than she had been seven years ago. God help her.
She'd been fooling herself for weeks now, trying to convince herself that she could walk away unscathed, unwounded. But when Caliban had aimed that pistol at Dare, intending to kill him, she knew she could no longer deny her heart. She loved Dare-so much that it hurt.
Julienne drew a sharp breath. She had delayed long enough. She had to end her relationship with him completely, or her misery would only grow worse. She couldn't bear to remain near Dare, loving him as much as she did when her love wasn't returned.
And what if he could come to love her? Would his devotion be strong enough to keep him faithful over the years?
She could picture the dismal future: Dare would buy her a house in nearby St. John's Wood, perhaps-the prime London quarter where gentlemen often kept their mistresses. She would wait for him by the window, yearning for him to bestow his crumbs of affection. Dare would make regular visits for a time, until he grew tired of her. Until he found someone else to take her place.
Julienne thought of his countless women and cringed. Her heart would bleed if he turned to other lovers. And a rake like Dare wasn't likely to remain constant without ardent love to bind him.
And what of marriage? a small voice inside her asked. It would be an impossibility, of course. A marquess could not wed a notorious actress. But if by some remote chance Dare offered for her hand…?
She knew any such proposal would only come out of guilt or pity, because he felt responsible for the suffering she had endured. She couldn't allow him to make such a sacrifice. Dare would swiftly come to resent her, and that would be even more unbearable.
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