by Sahara Kelly
“I did. A long time ago. I always enjoyed puzzles and those were not just exquisite pieces, they were about as fascinating a set as I’d ever seen. I knew I had to have them. And I knew you would love them as well, which is why you have the ring.”
He glanced at Dev and then down at Dev’s hand where the matching ring sat comfortably around his finger. “I’m impressed you worked out how to solve that particular puzzle.”
“Well, in the interests of honesty, it wasn’t me. I have a good friend who is a jeweler of some repute. He would offer you his store, his collection of gems and his mother for the set. He showed me how it worked.”
“Oh.” Léonie stood and walked to the small wardrobe where she had hung her father’s coat. “Speaking of the boxes…” She came back with her father’s version. “What’s in this one? And was it in the cliff face?”
“To answer your second question, yes. I have a few contacts here on the island, and I sent it down by courier after learning of Elwyn’s fate. I didn’t know what else to do. That particular beach is a useful collection point, since it’s usually uninhabited and accessible to…well, let’s just say ships passing by.”
“Especially ships from France that might be a little off course?” Dev asked the question with a grin.”
Girard coughed again. “Possibly.” Then he sighed. “Of course now it will have to be disbanded.”
“But what’s in the box, Papa?”
“The location of the emerald, child. The secret that can only bring death and disaster if revealed.”
She frowned. “That makes no sense. It’s a valuable jewel, of course, and yes people would kill for it. They already have.” She reached for his hand and held it, reassuring herself he was actually there. “They almost killed you.”
“I have to agree with Léonie, sir. Disaster? Just from a single emerald? It does seem a bit far-fetched.”
“I know. It is all I can say at the moment, however. There are one or two matters to be resolved before I can finish the tale. Once I get back on my feet, we must return to London as soon as we can.” He fidgeted, stretching his leg. “I have this splinted. So I don’t see why I can’t leave soon…”
“You’ll wait until the doctor gives you permission, Papa.” She would insist upon it.
“In that case, I have to send messages, Léonie. The man in the cave, for example. He is a matter that must be taken care of. All I need is pen and paper and a trusty courier or two…”
“I’m sure we can manage that, sir.” Dev nodded. “But can you tell us this…who was the man in the cave?”
The Colonel sighed. “A man who betrayed his country. A man to whom honor means nothing and ambition everything. John Montgomery.”
“Oh my God,” gasped Léonie. “Jean’s husband?”
“The same.” Her father looked out the window, a troubled expression on his face. “There are some who know no limits to their villainy, and the Lord knows I have met more than my fair share over the years. John Montgomery was a traitor and a thief and a killer. Once he got wind of the emerald, he was obsessed with it and his wife was every bit as bad. I can’t say I’m sorry he’s gone, or that I am responsible for his death. He was a rabid dog and I put him down.”
“Oh Papa.” Léonie gulped. This harsh-voiced man speaking so matter-of-factly of killing—well, she wasn’t sure she knew who he was.
But then he turned back to her, his eyes worried. “The thing that is really a major concern to me right now is his wife.” He looked at Dev and then back to Léonie. “She’s still out there.”
Chapter Twenty-One
They strolled arm-in-arm along the path by the shoreline, enjoying the breeze, the sun and each other.
Colonel Girard had his writing materials, along with a lap desk, and an appointment with the doctor within the hour. They had promised to return before lunch to make sure his messages were sent safely to their destination.
“It’s rather strange to be here in this tranquil setting, and yet find ourselves in the middle of what seems to be a dangerous mystery.”
Léonie made the observation as she watched a boat bobbing on the water. The clouds made for patterns on the surface of the ocean and Dev watched them with half his mind, while the other half turned over what they’d been told.
“I agree.” He chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say we were in one of those strange serials that appear in the papers now and again.”
“What do you think, Dev? About what my father told us?”
He was silent for a few paces, trying to organize his thoughts. “I think there may be a little more to the story. Not that he is lying to us, but he is holding back. I assume it’s because of the nature of all this…so secretive. I am aware that the hallowed halls of our government can be protective of what they consider national secrets, so I’m not surprised. It’s a tale of greed, power and politics, love. Not something I’m that familiar with, but I do believe your father, for what it’s worth.”
“I do as well. It’s not that. It’s just…” Her voice tapered off as she looked down at the path they walked.
“It’s just what?”
“It’s just that I saw a man I don’t know this morning. Just for a few moments. A man who talked of killing in a cold and unemotional way. Who talked of matters that most people would abhor. Who hinted at an affair with another man’s mistress. I don’t know that man, Dev. The fact he’s my father is—unsettling.”
“I can understand that.” He pulled her closer to him, making sure their arms were intertwined. “But he’s safe, and will mend, so we are in a better place than we were yesterday.”
She smiled at him, a bright and happy look. “Ever the optimist?”
“Someone has to be. And that’s not optimism, just a statement of fact.”
They strolled on for a little longer, then as they reached a small clearing at the end of the path, decided to sit a few moments on a convenient rock. It was shiny smooth on top, and Dev wondered if that the result of the many generations of bottoms that had done the same thing, doubtless since well before the Norman invasion.
The seagulls cried their harsh greetings overhead as the ocean splashed not far beneath the point on which they sat. For Dev, it was a rare moment of simple peace.
They were safe, together and it would be thus for the rest of their lives. There would not have been a moment of anything without Léonie. She made it perfect, she made it bright and she brought the sunshine with her.
How he had survived without her, he wasn’t sure. But he did know that the painting in his room had been some sort of sign, something that told him she was out there and he would find her.
“Léonie…” He spoke her name, a murmur on the wind.
She turned to him and smiled, then cursed as a gust of that same wind blew her bonnet off. “Damn.”
He bent down to catch it for her, just as a shot rang out.
Acting purely on instinct, Dev pulled her down, following her behind the rock for protection. The shot had come from their backs.
“What the…” She sputtered, turning incredulous eyes on him. “Was that a shot?”
He nodded and held a finger to his lips. “I’m afraid so,” he whispered. “And I’ll bet you ten guineas I know who it is.”
She thought for no more than a second or two. “Jean Montgomery?”
“Yes.”
“But why us? Papa’s here. Isn’t it him she’s after?”
Dev’s brain was whirling as he sorted through the situation. “She can’t get to him in the inn. Too many people there. But she can get to us. If she can take care of me, she has you. What better weapon for blackmail than Colonel Girard’s only daughter?”
Once again his beloved surprised him. She chuckled. “Mr. Deverell, you have a devious mind. You would have made an excellent diplomat.”
“Shhh. I think I see her.”
There was a flash of pale blue to one side of some bushes about five or six yards from where they
were. It had to be her gown or cloak—and it confirmed Dev’s assumption that the woman had grown desperate. She wasn’t dressed for stalking anyone.
“She’s over behind that bush. The one with the pink flowers. I saw a glimpse of something light. Her dress maybe…I can’t tell from here.”
“The rhododendron.”
“What?”
“The bush with the pink flowers.” She was so close it felt like she was in his pocket.
“Léonie, this isn’t the time for a lesson in horticulture…what the hell are you doing in my pocket?”
She pulled out the pistol. “Finding this. I prayed you’d forgotten about it. Thank God for thick coats.”
He blinked, but time was running out. If Jean Montgomery was reloading, she would be nearly done. At least he thought so. All comprehension of time had disappeared with the sound of that gunshot.
“Right then. Give it to me and the next time she pops her head up, I’ll take a crack at her.”
Léonie, calm as could be, shook her head. “I’m an excellent shot, Dev. I’m sure you are also excellent, but hunting quail or hitting a bullseye at Manton’s isn’t the same as hunting a person.”
“You haven’t…”
“No, of course not.” She snorted. “But my upbringing has been to always keep control of myself. Right now, you’re a mess of nerves.”
“I…”
“Hush.”
He hushed. She was right—his hands weren’t shaking but he could hear his own heart thundering in his ears. This was nothing like he’d ever experienced. That one time he’d been anywhere near danger, he’d stayed well behind the Runners. Where was McPherson when you needed him?
Becoming aware that he was now the only person behind the rock, Dev looked to his right and saw Léonie crawling steadily through the long grass to another patch of larger rocks. Her gray gown, which had seemed sensible and practical for an ocean outing, proved to be perfect for this situation as well.
She reached her destination without incurring any more fire, and Dev hazarded a guess that Lady Jean was waiting for movement before risking another go at him.
If he could get her to stand up, or at least make part of her visible, then Léonie could take her shot. He prayed the damn gun was loaded. He’d never thought to check.
He waved his hand low, then pointed at himself and upward. He was going to attract her attention. That should give Léonie the chance she needed.
She nodded.
It was now or never.
“Lady Montgomery.” Dev hailed her loudly, his voice echoing across the short expanse between them. “Are you there?”
For a long moment…nothing. Then “How did you know it was me?”
“A simple deduction. Once we found the body of your husband, it wasn’t hard to connect your presence in Southampton with your presence here.” He peeped out above the rock.
“My husband…he’s dead?” Her voice rose in a shriek of fury, and she stalked out from her hiding place, holding the pistol straight out before her.
This would be Léonie’s chance. He had to keep talking, keep Lady Jean’s attention on him. So he took a breath—and stood, holding his hands to his side.
“A fall. He was in that cave at Scratchell’s Bay. It’s full of rocks covered in seaweed. The authorities are being notified this morning.”
“You…you killed him. You and that little bitch of yours.”
“No, really…” Dev stepped back from her savage scream.
And at that moment, another shot rang out, startling the birds from the trees. Their cries mixed with Lady Jean’s. She fell to the ground, screaming, and grabbing her body, where blood began to stain the blue of her gown.
Léonie emerged and went to Dev, calmly handing him the pistol. Then she leaned against him for a long moment, and he felt a shudder rattle her bones.
“Are you all right?” He held her.
“I’d be better if she’d be quiet. She’s deafening me.”
He smiled down at her, lifted her chin with a finger and kissed her. “Thank you. You saved my life. So now I’m yours forever.”
She kissed him back then moved away with a smug grin. “Which is as it should be, of course.”
Not a sign of what she had just done was visible. She was amazing, without a doubt.
He sighed. “I suppose this means another trip to the local authorities.”
“We are going to get a bit of a reputation, aren’t we?”
Jean was still moaning, and they strolled over to look at her. She was on her stomach and clasping the back of her dress.
“Good God, Léonie. You shot her in the arse.”
“You know something, Dev? I rather think I did.”
*~~*~~*
Things were finally returning to normal, mused Léonie, as they arrived back at Deverell House. Aunt Bertie declared herself overwhelmed with joy, hugging them both and almost choking Léonie with an assortment of pale pink fringes and tassels.
“You darling children. Such adventures. Such dangers. You must come right in and immediately tell me everything. Your note was far too brief.”
Léonie wondered if she’d remember it all.
In the day following the shooting on the shore at Yarmouth, time had rushed past at a rapid rate.
Colonel Girard’s messages had borne immediate fruit, since within hours of them reaching Southampton, the last ferry of the day to Cowes brought six men of diverse appearance, and they were in Yarmouth before the last rays of the sun vanished over the horizon.
First thing in the morning, they presented themselves to Léonie and Dev, insisting politely that it would now be a good time for the two of them to say their farewells. The colonel would doubtless be charmed to meet with them in London as soon as his recovery was complete.
She had not cared for such high-handed behavior. “He is my father. I am duty-bound to stay by his side until such time as he is back on his feet.”
Her protests, and Dev’s—which he’d voiced most strenuously when he could get a word in edgewise—had fallen on deaf ears.
The Colonel had added his entreaties which had deflated Léonie’s complaints.
They’d found themselves in a carriage on the way to Cowes with barely a chance to pack or bid the Colonel farewell.
He kissed her, hugged her as best he could, and promised he’d see them both in town.
“You absolutely promise, Papa? The last time you promised…well, it didn’t quite go as planned, did it?”
“I promise, child. I will be able to fill in the missing pieces to the story at that time. At least I hope so.” He had glanced at Dev. “I am placing the most important piece of my heart in your hands, young man. Do not prove unworthy of my trust.”
Dev had smiled, bowed and taken her hand in his. “I will not, sir. Never doubt that. She’s the most important part of my heart now, as well.” His grin turned wicked. “Besides, she’s the best shot I’ve ever seen. If I get into any trouble, I want her around.”
And that had pretty much been that.
Passage had been arranged for them on the ferry, which sped them over the Solent to Southampton in what seemed like the blink of an eye. From there, carriages and horses were already reserved, making Dev blink as he walked into his first experience of what a well-oiled diplomatic machine could accomplish. They even managed to sleep a little on the way back to town. Not surprising, since they were both tired, emotionally and physically.
Of course a long night of passionate loving and outrageously wonderful sex is bound to take its toll on anyone. Léonie had spent some time watching Dev sleep and wondering at the twists and turns that had brought her to his side, his bed and his heart.
She found that she no longer needed to pull up that reserve and hide behind it. Not with him. He made her laugh uncontrollably, scream out her pleasures and blush like a little girl.
He made her heart quicken just by being himself and he made her feel…loved. Not like her parents had lov
ed her, but like a man loves the woman he worships. When she was with Dev, she felt precious. It was the only way she could describe it. Her parents had been her parents. But this? This was different. And wonderful.
He was wonderful. Even when snoring with his mouth open.
She smiled to herself. It would be strange settling down to a life without spontaneous trips to unknown places. But then again, she might be able to whisk Dev off somewhere with the right incentives.
She was beginning to learn all about those incentives. He was so much more than she’d imagined, and his passion was indescribable. This was her biggest adventure—learning about all the amazing things two people could experience together, when there was total freedom and trust and honesty.
Something that would make the diplomatic world shudder right down to its elegant dancing slippers.
Aunt Bertie, welcoming them back as if they were a pair of prodigal sons, peppered them with questions from the second they stepped over the threshold of Deverell House.
“I would have gone with you, you know.” She pouted. “I understand the need for haste, but I really would have accompanied you.”
“Dear Aunt Bertie,” Léonie hugged her. “You would be the best companion, I know. But there was no time. As it was, we barely got to Papa before it was too late.”
Bertie shivered. “Oh the poor man. I can’t wait to meet him. We must have him to dinner, Dev. Just something informal.”
Dev, who was looking somewhat frazzled, nodded. “We will. But right now, Aunt, Léonie and I have been travelling for what feels like weeks. I don’t know how she can look so perfectly fine, because I am desperate for a bath and a change of clothes.”
Léonie nodded. “I will confess that sounds most welcome. If you can grant us a couple of hours, Aunt. We dined along the way, but a cup of tea would be most welcome.” She glanced at the clock. “Is it too late, do you think? It will be going on eleven…”
“Pshaw.” Bertie snorted. “We’ll have tea when you’re ready. We don’t worry about time. And a brandy for you, Dev. Help you sleep, lad. I’ll take care of it. You two go and freshen up.”
They walked up the staircase until they reached the top. Then Dev glanced down at her. “Your bathtub is bigger than mine. Undress slowly.”
