The Spy's Revenge

by Nadine Millard

  And he realised, with cold, hard dread, that Gabrielle was in more danger than he’d imagined.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “I CANNOT BELIEVE that you stayed behind.”

  Gabrielle and Evelyn were sitting by the fire in the drawing room, having enjoyed a quiet dinner with Piers that had consisted of a variety of succulent dishes and some very stilted conversation.

  Gabrielle couldn’t just blame Evelyn’s cool politeness or Piers’ unusual aloofness when it came to conversing with each other.

  No, there was something about Piers that she couldn’t put her finger on, which alarmed her nonetheless.

  For one thing, he had dominated the conversation with talk of lost love and revenge and all sorts of melodramatic nonsense. Gabby could only assume that he’d gotten well-and-truly foxed and wasn’t in his right mind. But it was odd, and it hadn’t sat right with her throughout dinner.

  After the interminable meal finally came to an end, the ladies had left Piers to his port and cigars, though Gabrielle had thought he’d had quite enough to drink already.

  So here they were, she and Evelyn.

  Gabby could admit to herself that she was relieved to have Evelyn still here with her, especially given Piers’ odd behaviour that evening.

  Earlier that day, after they’d waved Andrew off, Evelyn had set about bundling Mrs. Bryan and William into a carriage destined for the earl’s Mayfair townhouse.

  Though she had cried and cried saying goodbye to William, she had insisted on staying with Gabrielle so she could accompany her on the journey to London once she was feeling better.

  “Of course I stayed behind,” Evelyn smiled, pouring tea into delicate china cups. “I am not so overprotective as my cousin and my husband. I am quite sure you will be ready to leave for London soon. And I am determined to get you there safely.”

  Gabrielle thanked Evelyn as she accepted a cup of tea.

  “Evelyn, did you think Piers was acting strangely tonight?”

  “You mean all that poppycock about betrayal and revenge? Yes, it did seem rather odd, didn’t it? Of course, I do not know the man so well as you, but even I could see it was quite out of character.”

  Gabby once again noticed the stiffening of Evelyn’s shoulders and the coolness in her tone. Little nuances that probably would have gone unnoticed to most people.

  “I must ask,” she said, replacing her teacup on the tray in front of them, “what is it that you dislike so much about Piers? I know we touched on the subject, but I don’t recall an answer.”

  Gabrielle knew she was being terribly forward in addressing Evelyn in such a manner. But her curiosity was getting the better of her.

  Evelyn placed her own cup beside Gabby’s on the table with a sigh.

  “You know, I really did think I was hiding it quite well,” Evelyn said ruefully, and Gabby was surprised at the candid answer given her previous prevarication.

  “I’m sure you have,” Gabby said kindly. “I just notice these things.”

  “Well, yes, I’d imagine you do in your line of work.”

  Once again, Gabby was taken aback. She didn’t know how much Evelyn knew about her past and how she had come to know Jonathan and Andrew, so she was unsure about how she should answer. Thankfully though, Evelyn seemed happy to continue talking.

  “I rarely dislike anybody, you must understand,” she said, and she looked completely sincere. “It is just, well, when I first met Mr. Casings, I got a — well, a feeling.”

  “A feeling?” Gabby repeated dubiously.

  “It sounds silly, I know. But I felt uncomfortable. And of course I feel awful about it since he has been so kind as to welcome me into his home. But, well, I cannot help but feel it.”

  Evelyn’s face was stamped with guilt, and Gabby did her best to comfort the other woman. She knew that Evelyn hadn’t a malicious bone in her body.

  If she didn’t like Piers, she wouldn’t be enjoying the feeling.

  “I do not think it is so bad. Not everyone likes everyone,” Gabby reassured her. “But Piers has been so very good to me. He looked after me when I first arrived here and welcomed me when I thought I had nobody.”

  “Oh, I know. He was so good to you. And I feel truly awful. I shall make every effort to stop this nonsense and be kinder to him.”

  Gabrielle appreciated Evelyn’s words. Though they’d only known each other some weeks, the other woman had shown her such warmth and kindness.

  Gabby, when she had allowed her imagination free rein, had dreamt up all sorts of scenarios around being married to Jonathan and practically sisters with her new friend, Christmastide and family dinners, ton events and summer house parties. And lots of little children running around making happy memories together.

  It was a life she longed for quite desperately and one she was determined to have.

  She must put her trust in Jonathan now and hope that he could see this thing through to the end. Before she ended up dead.

  IT WAS NO use. Sleep was determined to elude her tonight.

  Gabrielle threw back the covers and sat up, pushing her tangled hair from her face. Perhaps a drink would help to settle her stomach, which had been dancing with butterflies since Jonathan had left. Perhaps the simple task of going downstairs and pouring a brandy would settle her racing thoughts.

  The house was silent apart from the creaks and groans one expected of a large house settling itself down for the night. The ormolu clock on the fireplace ticked away the seconds, the sound seeming impossibly loud in the stillness of night.

  Gabrielle moved from the bed and slipped her feet into the slippers by the side of it, before reaching for the cotton robe. Her hand stilled as the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood up.

  Call it a sixth sense, or an inherent instinct for danger but suddenly, Gabby felt unsafe.

  Forcing her suddenly hammering heart to calm, she closed off all her other senses and listened intently.

  Something had set her on alert; now she needed to figure out what.

  There!

  A soft noise outside her door, out of place amongst the usual sounds one would expect.

  A footstep?

  Gabrielle opened her eyes and fixed them unblinkingly on the door.

  It was almost impossible to see in the darkness of the room. The curtains were open, admitting the icy gleam of the full moon, but it was still difficult to make out more than the outline of the furniture.

  The distinctive rattle of the doorknob left no room for doubt that someone was out there, and Gabrielle leapt to action. Diving back toward the bed, she managed to reach her small dagger that she kept under her pillow and turned back to face the door.

  Heart in her mouth, Gabby watched as the door creaked slowly open and a figure stepped over the threshold.

  He stopped, and Gabby could have laughed aloud with the relief she felt. It was only Piers, for heaven’s sake.

  The relief, however, was short-lived.

  Just as a smile began to form on her face, it froze.

  Piers looked at her then slowly raised a pistol and trained it straight on her heart.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  JONATHAN KNEW THAT neither reasoning, roaring, nor railing against his captives was getting him anywhere. And he felt as though he were slowly going mad.

  Never in his life had he felt this helpless. Never had he been so helpless. He couldn’t protect Gabrielle from in here. Nobody, not even the men he’d worked alongside for years, would listen to him.

  And even if they did, the second he mentioned that Piers was behind the attacks, they looked as though they wanted to cart him off to Bedlam.

  He couldn’t blame them, Jonathan supposed. If anyone had told him a week ago that Piers Casings had been trying to kill Gabrielle — or have her killed, he should say — he would have thought that person insane, too.

  How could he have been so blind?

  The signs were all there. And he’d been clever, too. But then, Pie
rs was notoriously clever, one of the brightest minds in the Home Office.

  By only continuing his attempts on Gabrielle’s life when Jonathan had been in residence, he had managed to build quite a case against Jonathan. He couldn’t have gotten rid of her when she first arrived in England because Lucas Townsend had brought her to him and then had, by all accounts, visited frequently.

  Jonathan wondered now if the captain had had suspicions about Piers. He had disappeared that night, and Piers had manipulated Jonathan into thinking he might have been the person behind the attacks. But, of course, that held no weight since the man had kept her alive and given her safe passage to England.

  But it had put enough doubt into Jonathan’s mind for him to focus on the captain and not look closer to home.

  When he looked back now, he could see how perfectly Piers had managed everything. He was never around when Gabby had her mysterious accidents. He had brought her the cakes that must have been the source of poison.

  And now, he would see Jonathan hanged for the crimes.

  It was the ultimate betrayal.

  Clearly, the man was stark raving mad. And Jonathan’s love, his brother-in-arms, his adopted sister, and his tiny, innocent nephew were all in the house with him, blissfully unaware of the man’s depravity.

  Jonathan bellowed out his rage to the crumbling ceiling of his small, dark cell.

  It didn’t even make him feel better.

  If he ever got out of here alive, he would kill that treacherous bastard with his bare hands.

  FOR A MOMENT, Gabrielle couldn’t register what she was seeing in front of her.

  How could it be that Piers, Piers, was standing there, looking as though he meant to kill her? How?

  “I can see this has come as something of a shock, my dear.”

  Gabrielle’s brain was still fumbling with what was in front of her. The voice was Piers’… the body was Piers’. But why?

  “What are you doing?” she choked out.

  “What that fool I hired in Paris couldn’t do,” he answered nonchalantly as though they were discussing the weather or what to have for dinner the following evening. “I’m getting rid of you, once and for all.”

  Gabby’s heart froze at his words, made all the more horrifying by his calm tone and demeanour.

  “Why?” She gasped as she struggled to make sense of what he’d said.

  Paris?

  The man who had tried to have her killed in Paris was Piers? There must be some mistake. This couldn’t be happening.

  Piers sighed and threw his eyes to the ceiling.

  “I’d really rather not have to go into the whole sorry mess, Gabrielle. It’s far too long-winded, I’m sure.”

  The initial shock was starting to wear off, and Gabby welcomed the burn of anger that was beginning to build. Anger would help her to focus and figure out what the hell was going on here.

  “I think I deserve an explanation, Piers, if you’re going to put a bullet in me.”

  Piers eyed her for a moment as though considering her words before he heaved another sigh.

  “Fine,” he bit out after an age. “It will do no harm, I think, to fill you in. That way, when you see your mother in hell, you can take her a message from me.” He laughed a high-pitched, maniacal laugh that she’d never before heard from him, and her stomach sank.

  Her mother?

  He knew her mother?

  “Come on.” He stopped laughing so abruptly it was jarring. “We shall go downstairs so I can tell you why you need to die tonight. I do not want to risk waking anyone. Besides, it will be much easier to dispose of you if we’re already down there.”

  He said the words so calmly, so matter-of-fact, that it took a second for them to penetrate the confusing fog in Gabby’s mind.

  Dear God, he was mad.

  Gabby’s heart thumped frantically as she preceded him out of the bedchamber and down the hallway. As she passed Evelyn’s door, she briefly considered raising the alarm, but what good would it do? He would either shoot her immediately or hurt Evelyn.

  “Let’s not rouse her ladyship,” Piers whispered in her ear as he placed the cool steel of the pistol to her back, as though he had read her mind. “I’d hate to have to rid myself of her, too. If she sleeps through this, she can go blissfully on her way. Killing a countess is much less tolerated then disposing of a French nobody, I’m sure.”

  Gabrielle gritted her teeth at Piers’ words. They cut her, though. This was Piers, for goodness’ sake. A man who had been like a father to her. Her mind just couldn’t process the change in him or the words he was saying.

  Where had all of this come from? Why on earth did he want her dead?

  The walk down the stairs seemed never-ending. She needed to keep him talking, perhaps even have him relax enough to be able to get close enough to get that pistol from his hand. Gabby cursed the fact that she had a mere dagger hidden in a pocket of her robe.

  They reached the door of Piers’ study, and he nudged her roughly, making her stumble into the room. The fire hadn’t yet been banked, and for a moment, Gabrielle felt a flare of hope. Surely someone would still be up to tend to it.

  Piers walked in front of her, the gun trained steadily on her the entire time, never wavering.

  “Nobody is coming to your aid, Gabrielle,” he sneered, again somehow reading her thoughts. “I often stay up late. The staff is long since used to my hours.”

  Gabby studied him closely, now that the light of the fire and the candles still burning aided her eyesight.

  What she saw, she didn’t like.

  His blue eyes, usually so calm, dull even, were alight with a strange fire, glassy with excitement. The nervous energy emanating from him set her on edge.

  She had seen countless people running on nothing but adrenaline in her line of work. Usually when they got to that point, they had lost all sense of logic and that made them dangerous. To think of Piers as dangerous was abhorrent to her. And yet, here he stood, wanting her dead.

  “Why are you doing this, Piers?” she asked again as calmly as she could. All the while, her heart hammered, and she wished she hadn’t begged Andrew to go after Jonathan. More than that, she wished desperately that Jonathan himself were here.

  “You know,” Piers said, bringing Gabby’s thoughts from Jonathan to the rather dire situation at hand. “I have debated whether to explain it all to you or just shoot you. And though the latter is tempting, now that I’ve gotten rid of Jonathan and Andrew has left, I find myself warming to the idea of a nice little chat.”

  Gabby frowned at the change in her old friend. He looked positively deranged. Had he really been so good at hiding his true character all this time? It should have been impossible.

  “Let’s sit,” Piers said like the perfect gentleman, waving her to a seat, taking the one next to it.

  Gabrielle sat carefully, staying on the edge of the silk-covered chair.

  “Now let me see,” Piers began, his expression thoughtful. “I do wonder where the best place to start is.”

  Gabby clenched her fists at the man’s blasé behaviour.

  “I suppose I should start by telling you that none of this is your fault. Or, at least, it didn’t start out being your fault. No. The blame lies solely with your mother.”

  Gabby’s heart started in surprise. Her mother? Of all the things she imagined causing Piers to lose his head like this, her mother had never been one of them.

  “My mother?” she repeated, baffled.

  “Yes, I knew her, you see. Many years ago. Before she decided to set her cap at that God-awful Frenchman.”

  Gabby was so shocked she could barely speak.

  “I-I don’t understand,” she stuttered, her mind flying in a hundred directions at one.

  Piers sighed, looking irritated.

  “Must I spell it out?” he bit out. “Honestly, my dear. I thought you someone with reasonable intelligence.”

  Gabrielle remained mutinously quiet. He knew s
he had a short temper, and she wouldn’t allow him to use it against her.

  “Your mother was betrothed before she met your father. Did you know that?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Yes, she had promised herself to another man, a man who had loved her far more than she deserved. Me, as it happens.”

  Once again, Gabby’s whole world shook with the revelation. This information was incredibly difficult to process. How could she not have known this? How and more importantly why had Piers never told her?

  And why on earth did it make him want to hurt her?

  “It was all arranged. Marriage contracts signed. Dowry discussed. I loved your mother, Gabrielle. Far more than she deserved.”

  Gabby didn’t move or react. His tone was relaxing by the second, his shoulders dropping a little. He was becoming more at ease and therefore more likely to make a mistake. So she stayed silent and still, wanting him to continue. And he did so with relish.

  As though he had been awaiting an opportunity to purge himself of his secret, Piers talked and talked, confessing all.

  “We were mere weeks from our wedding day when she broke the news. She had fallen in love, she said. With a damned French merchant.” The sneer on his face made Gabby’s blood run cold. “Imagine, if you will, your mother, the daughter of a viscount, rambling on about her heart, willing to throw away everything she had here for a bloody tradesman.”

  The remembered fury Piers was feeling was evident in the sudden flush on his cheeks and the wild gleam in his eye.

  “There was no talking to her, no reasoning. Not even the beating she deserved could shut her up.”

  Gabby had to grip the material of her robe to stop herself from reaching for the cruel man sitting across from her and wringing his neck.

  Gabrielle remembered her mother, soft and sweet and beautiful. How dared he put his hands on her in such a way?

  “He had gone off to London. Purchasing a ring, she had said, the little fool. I told her he would never come back. Men like him, they didn’t love women like her.”