The Spy's Revenge

by Nadine Millard

  “Jonathan,” she breathed, “I—”

  Whatever she was going to say was cut abruptly short as Jonathan reached forward and pulled her toward him into an embrace that really wasn’t fit for public viewing. As his arms wrapped round her, and his lips descended to lay siege to her own, Gabby thought it was possible that she’d died and gone to heaven.

  And the thought really didn’t upset her at all.

  Jonathan pulled away and gazed into her eyes, the look in his own making her knees turn to jelly.

  “I love you,” he said. Simply, clearly, honestly.

  Gabby felt a burst of happiness, so strong she was surprised the whole inn didn’t light up with it.

  “I love you too,” she responded with a smile.

  Jonathan’s answering grin did turn her knees to jelly, and she was grateful for his arms holding her upright.

  “I want to marry you,” he said.

  Gabby felt tears of happiness spring to her eyes.

  “How soon can we marry?” she asked in response.

  “As soon as possible, my darling.” He grinned.

  Whenever it was, Gabby thought deliriously, it wouldn’t be soon enough.

  “I STILL VOTE that we go back there and kill the bastard.”

  “That might be rather frowned upon.” Evelyn scowled at Jonathan.

  “Do you think I care about being frowned upon?”

  “No. But I should think you would care about a noose around your neck,” she replied sweetly.

  “It would be worth it,” he argued darkly.

  “No,” said Gabby softly. “It wouldn’t.”

  Jonathan reached a hand out and pulled Gabby to his side. He kissed the top of her head. He couldn’t quite believe that she was here, safely in his arms.

  “Piers is with the magistrate,” Gabby assured him. “All we need to do is go to Winchester and set the record straight. If anyone is to hang, it will be him.”

  A knock sounded on the door of the private dining room that Andrew had secured, while Jonathan had procured rooms and arranged for warm baths to be brought for the ladies.

  The innkeeper’s wife bustled in with the two serving girls whom she had sent to assist Gabrielle and Evelyn, each of them laden down with bowls, pots, and trays carrying a variety of delicious-smelling food.

  Jonathan felt too het up to do justice to the spread, but he knew the ladies must be ravenous and exhausted from their journey.

  Especially Gabrielle.

  He watched her closely for signs that her illness, coupled with her dash across the countryside had affected her more than he’d thought. But she seemed in relatively good spirits and had been adamant that he not call a doctor.

  The group, which had been standing by the fireplace discussing strategy, moved toward the round, mahogany table dominating the room. Jonathan held out a chair for Gabrielle, before seating himself beside her.

  He watched her smile at something Andrew said, laugh at Evelyn’s exclamation of hunger. He watched her thank the serving girls kindly and bite her lip as she contemplated what she wanted.

  Staring, rather than mere watching, he knew. Yet, he couldn’t stop. Nor did he want to.

  Their past, the things they’d suffered these last few years, made him love her with a fierceness he’d never thought himself capable of. And if staring reassured him that she was really here beside him, safe and ready to be his wife, then he would stare forever.

  “Stop staring,” Gabby muttered.

  All right. He’d stare until she told him not to.

  Jonathan gave her a rueful smile.

  “I cannot help it,” he said softly, his hand brushing her face. “As your betrothed, I believe I should be allowed to do whatever I want.”

  “As a married man, I believe I should tell you that that is categorically untrue,” Andrew quipped.

  Everyone laughed, and Jonathan was struck by a feeling of pure elation. This was what he wanted for his life. He and Gabby, sharing meals with family and friends, laughing and content and, most of all, together.

  Jonathan realised with a jolt that the thought of leaving England on another assignment, the thought of leaving Gabrielle behind for God knew how long, or worse, her being with him in the fray, turned his blood to ice. He didn’t want that life for himself anymore. And he sure as hell didn’t want it for her.

  My God, he thought, I’ve gone soft, like Andrew.

  He remembered back to the conversation he’d had with Andrew, when the earl had told him that he intended to give up his work with the Home Office, in order to settle down with Evelyn.

  Jonathan had been happy for them, of course, but had secretly thought his old friend utterly mad. He had shuddered at the idea of wasting his life away in the countryside, hunting and fishing and growing soft.

  Now, he thought the idea of being hidden away somewhere, just he and Gabrielle and, one day, a brood of their children running around, sounded like bucolic bliss.

  And to be fair to Andrew, he was still sharp as a tack, but he seemed a hundred times happier than he’d ever been.

  “I don’t think he’s listening.”

  “Either that, or he’s become strangely attached to that roast pheasant.”

  Jonathan brought his thoughts back to his surroundings in time to hear Andrew’s comment.

  “It’s more interesting than whatever you have to say, I’m sure,” he responded dryly.

  He and Andrew traded insults back and forth for the next few minutes until Jonathan noticed Gabby trying to stifle yet another yawn.

  “I think it’s time to retire for the evening,” Jonathan said, bringing the soft hum of conversation to an end.

  “Yes, I am rather tired,” Evelyn agreed, standing from the table.

  Andrew stood with her, nearly knocking his chair to the floor in his haste.

  “Yes, terribly long day,” he agreed, starting to shivvy Evelyn to the door. “Early start tomorrow to head back to London. Lots to do.”

  Gabby was frowning at him in confusion, but Jonathan knew exactly where Andrew’s mind was, and he didn’t intend to dwell on it for too long.

  “Goodnight then,” he said firmly, before Andrew started to remove his clothing in his eagerness.

  Andrew grinned and winked. Evelyn blushed but swept from the room rather quickly herself.

  Once they were alone, Jonathan pulled Gabby from her seat and planted her on his lap.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped breathlessly, laughing slightly.

  “What I’ve been dying to do all evening.” He grinned.

  Gabby wriggled slightly, settling herself into his lap, and Jonathan felt suddenly like a green lad about to lose control over himself.

  Bloody hell, he wanted her with a passion that he was barely able to control.

  This wedding couldn’t happen quick enough. A man would need the patience of the saints to survive much longer. And Jonathan had never been well known for his patience or his saintliness.

  As though Gabby were able to read his mind, she smiled a wicked little smile that had him squirming in his seat and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “I cannot wait to be your wife.”

  Jonathan had to swallow hard before he could be sure his voice would work.

  “If I knew where to find a vicar, I’d drag him here now.” He groaned, earning himself a giggle.

  “And deprive me of a big white wedding, with hundreds of people there to see me in all my glory?” she asked, surprising him.

  Jonathan had always assumed, wrongly as it turned out, that Gabrielle wouldn’t like the type of fuss his mother had insisted Anna have for her wedding. It was his idea of hell to go through such a spectacle. But that didn’t matter. If that’s what Gabrielle wanted, then that’s what she’d get.

  “If that’s what you want,” he said, trying valiantly to sound happy about it, “then that’s what you shall have. But, well, how long will all of that take?” he asked.

  Gabby laughed again, the sound m
usic to his ears.

  “Jon, surely you know me well enough to know that such a thing would be a horror for me. A small, intimate gathering is infinitely preferable.”

  Jonathan felt a flood of relief at her words.

  Small meant quick, didn’t it?

  “A simple ceremony with our loved ones will be perfect.”

  “And how long will that take?” he asked again.

  “Only days, I should imagine. If you manage to get a special licence.”

  Jonathan allowed himself one quick exclamation of relief before he pulled her head toward his and kissed her with all the emotion coursing through him.

  This was what he’d been waiting all evening for.

  This was what he wanted every day for the rest of his life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  THE STORM OF the night before had left the sky a beautiful azure and the rolling fields of the countryside a fresh, verdant green. It was as though the night’s rain had given everything a good wash, making it appear fresh and clean and new.

  Gabby smiled at her fanciful thoughts. But she couldn’t help but feel that this calm after the storm applied to her, too.

  After years of tumultuous emotions and dark, murky secrets, she and Jonathan had a fresh start and were on their way to a new life together.

  Gabby looked out the window and caught Jonathan’s gaze.

  He gave her a wolfish smile and a wink, and she could feel her cheeks heating under such a devilish look.

  When they’d set off for London not too long ago, Andrew and Jonathan had insisted that the ladies use the carriage, and they would ride outside. None of them believed there was any danger left, but old habits died hard, and it was always at the back of their minds to be prepared for any eventuality.

  Ordinarily, Gabby would have argued against being treated like a cotton-wrapped miss and insisted that she ride outside with the men. But the truth was she was exhausted from their escape from Piers’ estate, coupled with their non-stop journey to London.

  And her health, though much improved, was a far cry from fully recovered.

  Besides, though she’d never admit it, it felt rather nice to be looked after and coddled a little.

  After she and Jonathan had been interrupted last night by the arrival of a shocked and embarrassed-looking servant girl who had come to clear the table, Gabby had fled to her rooms, embarrassed and flustered and filled with such wanton thoughts she deemed it best to keep a locked door between her and Jonathan, who had mercifully managed to secure a room despite the inclement weather sending guests flocking to the inn.

  Sleep had, for once, not eluded her, and she’d spent a very pleasant few hours dreaming things about Jonathan that would turn a vicar’s hair white. Given her blushes all morning and Jonathan’s smug grin, the lout knew, or at least suspected, what she’d been dreaming of last night.

  He was terribly arrogant.

  But then, she conceded, he was rather perfect and had every right to be as arrogant as he liked.

  Evelyn was chattering happily about little William and how she couldn’t wait to see him.

  “I’ve never been away from him for this long before,” she said, her eyes glassy. “But hopefully he won’t be very cross with me.”

  Gabby smiled at the idea of the jolly little baby being cross with his much-adored mama. She wondered how long it would be before she had a bouncing babe of her own.

  “And, of course, I shall have to leave him again when we go shopping for your trousseau, although that will only be for hours and not days. We must recruit Anna to help us,” Evelyn continued happily. “Anna is quite the most stylish woman I have ever met. And it will do her good, I think, to have something to look forward to.”

  Gabrielle noticed how Evelyn’s bright eyes dimmed slightly as she spoke of Jonathan’s sister. She was worried for Anna. They all were. It was obvious every time they spoke of the woman.

  Gabby dearly hoped that Anna liked her, and that the other lady would enjoy helping her. Since Jonathan had no intentions of involving his overbearing mother in the proceedings, Anna and Evelyn were the closest family he would have there. It was important to her that she make a good impression.

  A sudden shout from outside interrupted Gabby’s thoughts and Evelyn’s chat.

  The carriage came rumbling to a halt, and Gabby opened the door before anyone could come and do it for her. On the other side, Evelyn pulled down the small window, and Gabby saw Andrew move his horse over to speak to her. Before she could jump down, Jonathan had dismounted and was by her side.

  “I want you to stay inside the carriage,” he said.

  She took in the set of his jaw, the glint in his eyes and knew that something was afoot.

  “What is it?” she asked quietly, keeping her tone business-like.

  “Nothing to worry about,” he answered, his eyes fixed on the road behind them.

  “Jonathan,” she warned.

  She wouldn’t be dismissed like a child.

  He turned and looked at her then, studying her for a moment before sighing and nodding his head.

  “Fine,” he said. “Someone is coming up behind us. Fast.”

  Gabby frowned.

  That didn’t sound like anything to worry about.

  “Is that a problem?” she asked carefully, watching his reaction.

  “No,” he said, though he hesitated somewhat. “I just—”

  He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to.

  Jonathan’s instincts were legendary. He was never wrong. And he obviously felt uncomfortable about something right now.

  “Shouldn’t we keep moving?” she asked, reaching into the pocket of her travelling gown to grasp the hilt of her dagger.

  “We won’t outrun anyone on horses with a carriage in tow. And I don’t want you out here exposed.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  Jonathan sighed. “We wait and see who it is.”

  Gabrielle didn’t want to argue or question Jonathan’s judgement, but she worried that recent events had made him over-cautious.

  “Jonathan,” she started gently, “Piers is in the custody of the magistrate in Norfolk.”

  Jonathan sighed again, muttering a soft oath.

  “You’re right,” he finally said. “You are. I’m being ridiculous. Let’s just keep going. The sooner we straighten things out with Winchester, the sooner—”

  The unmistakeable sound of a gunshot suddenly rent the air, and the door of the carriage splintered. It took less than half a second for Gabrielle to realise that someone had shot at them, but in that time Jonathan had already flung her back inside the carriage and slammed what was left of the door shut.

  Gabby was sprawled on the floor, scrambling with the material of her gown, simultaneously pulling her dagger from her cloak. She managed to scramble back onto her seat in time to see Evelyn pull out a box hidden below the bench and remove a pistol from it.

  “Andrew thinks I don’t know this is here,” she scoffed to Gabby.

  “Can you use it?” Gabby asked.

  Evelyn’s raised brow was answer enough.

  Of course she could use it. The woman had been a highwayman, for heaven’s sake.

  “What do you think is going on?” Evelyn asked as she readied the weapon.

  “I have no idea,” answered Gabby truthfully. “But I don’t intend to sit in here waiting to find out.” She opened the ruined door of the carriage and slipped to the ground, using the door as cover.

  “What the hell are you doing? Get back inside.”

  Jonathan’s voice sounded just behind her, and she whipped her head round to see Jonathan, Andrew, the footmen, and coach driver all armed and facing the group of riders fast approaching.

  Gabby ignored him and turned back to face whoever was shooting at them.

  She felt her jaw drop, even as her mind told her it wasn’t possible.

  Piers, surrounded by some of the footmen from his estate, were approaching the carriage a
t breakneck speed.

  How?

  How had he managed to escape?

  Gabby heard Jonathan mutter something about impossible women before she felt a hand reach out and pull her backwards.

  In the next instant, she found herself planted firmly behind Jonathan.

  “What are we going to do?” she whispered to him.

  They were outnumbered, and if Piers had planned this, which he obviously had, they were bound to be out-armed, too.

  “We aren’t going to do anything,” Jonathan said without turning around. “I, however, am going to kill the bastard.”

  “Easy,” Andrew warned.

  Piers came to a stop with his band of footmen surrounding him.

  Gabby felt sick upon seeing him again, remembering how he had made her fear for her life, fear for Jonathan. And still there was a part of her that wished for this to be a great misunderstanding, though that was, of course, impossible.

  “Well, well. What have we here?” Piers drawled, sounding nothing like the man they all thought he was.

  Gabrielle couldn’t see Jonathan’s face, but she could feel the tension radiating from him.

  “I thought I had sewn this up rather nicely.” Piers was waving his pistol about as though he hadn’t a care in the world. “‘Tis rather inconvenient to find you all alive and well, I must say.”

  While Piers spoke, the men he had with him slowly circled the carriage so that they were surrounded within seconds.

  “You should have stayed away, Piers,” Jonathan said, his tone flat, emotionless.

  “And what? Not finished what I started all those years ago? Don’t be ridiculous, Jonathan.”

  “And what are you planning to do now?” Jonathan asked sounding bored and relaxed.

  Gabby knew he would be anything but.

  “Kill the lot of us?”

  “If I must.”

  Jonathan laughed softly then shook his head pityingly.

  “I do wonder how you managed to escape from the magistrate,” he continued, and Gabby knew from his scathing tone that he was trying to get the other man to lose his cool. Losing control meant making a mistake.

  “How do you think?” Piers sneered. “I killed the fool. Did you really think a country magistrate was a match for me? One false chest pain was all it took for him to be desperately trying to untie my bonds. He was carrying a weapon,” Piers shrugged. “The rest is, I’m sure, easy enough to figure out. Though I do regret the blood stain on my Persian rug.”