When she heard someone approaching, she slid into the shadows but allowed herself to be glimpsed. The man stopped, his hand on the butt of his pistol. “Who’s there?” he demanded. He took a few steps toward her, staring intently into the shadows. Gabrielle held her breath. Closer. Closer. He was so close, and yet the idiot did not see her. Must she step forward and wave her arms in the air?
Like a striking snake, he snagged her by the shirt, yanking her forward with such force that the breath whooshed out of her and her head jerked back. He pulled her so close that his nose was inches from hers. The scent of body odor and cooked onions assailed her and she wrinkled her nose.
“Gotcha,” he snarled. “We been waitin’ fer ya.”
She pressed her lips together while he chuckled, apparently delighted that he’d been the one to snag her. Still clutching her shirt, he turned on his heel and dragged her away. She didn’t fight him.
Thankfully she didn’t have to be dragged all that far to McFadden, who was on the orlop deck, speaking to another sailor. When McFadden saw her, his eyes widened and he stopped in midsentence.
“Found her,” her captor crowed.
“Yes, you did, Archie. Good job, mate.”
Archie shoved her forward, causing Gabrielle to stumble.
McFadden raised a brow. “You didn’t tie her hands, Archie?”
“Uh…”
“Did you search her for weapons?”
“Uh…”
Gabrielle suppressed a smile and allowed Archie’s trembling hands to roam over her body. She didn’t take her eyes off McFadden as Archie removed a dagger from her boot and another from a sheath tucked into her waistband.
“Only two small daggers?” McFadden asked. “I’m surprised.”
She shrugged.
McFadden’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think to give yourself up to save your lover?”
She schooled her features to avoid showing her surprise. Of course, if he had been watching her all these weeks, he would know that Sebastian had spent some time with her. She shouldn’t be surprised.
“It won’t work,” McFadden said.
Her arms were jerked behind her and tied tightly with a rough rope that dug into her wrists.
“You will both die,” McFadden said.
She raised her chin and let the silence speak for itself. Archie stepped back quickly, as if afraid she would somehow escape her bonds and come after him. The sailor McFadden had been talking to watched warily.
Anger sparked in McFadden’s eyes as he approached her. “I’m disappointed in the king. Two meager spies to search for me?”
“Perhaps that is all he thought he needed.”
He smiled. “You mock our mission, but you will not mock me as I’m slowly killing you.”
She pressed her lips together. The lack of response apparently infuriated McFadden. He smacked her on the cheek. Her head snapped sideways, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. Behind her, Archie chuckled, and the other man’s eyes slid away.
“England will rue the day they took the Scots’ freedom,” McFadden snarled. His eyes burned with passion and anger, and Gabrielle remembered that his fiancée had been murdered by English soldiers. How much of this was revenge for his Aileen and how much true belief in Scotland?
“You won’t succeed,” she said. “England is too powerful.”
He smirked. “You English. You are all so arrogant, blindly following your king, believing everything he says.”
“He’s your king, too.”
His face twisted into something grotesque. “I will never bow to him.”
“You cannot succeed in this.”
He seemed to consider her as he stepped closer. She stared up into dead eyes that turned her insides cold.
“I have two of England’s spies in my possession,” he said. “What do you think I should do about this predicament?” He snatched the braid that hung over her shoulder. Gabrielle bit back her cry of surprise as he yanked hard, causing her neck to bend else he tear the hair from her head. “Follow me,” he said, as if she had a choice in the matter. He dragged her with him, her head bent as he used her hair to yank her about. “You, too, Archie,” he called over his shoulder.
Gabrielle frantically searched the waters beyond the ship, but it was difficult to see with her head bent. McFadden was walking quickly. His fury rose off him, chilling her with its ferocity. She did not know what she’d said to cause it, but she dearly hoped that Atwater and his men were getting close, because the entire situation had escalated far too suddenly for her liking.
Before they entered the lower portion of the ship, McFadden grabbed a lantern hanging on a wall. He pulled her behind him to a closed door, opened it, and set the lantern on the floor before swinging her around until she was in front of him, her hair still wrapped around his fist. It took a moment for her to recognize what she was seeing, and when she did, she was helpless to keep from crying out.
Tied to a chair in the middle of the empty room was a beaten and bloody Sebastian. His head was bent between bowed shoulders. His shirt, once a snowy white, was flecked with bright red specks of blood. His hair was matted with blood. Blood dripped off fingers curled around the end of the armrest. His ankles were tied to the chair legs.
Slowly he lifted his head. Both eyes were nearly swollen shut. Blood dribbled from the corners of his lips. There was not a spot on his face that was not bruised or bleeding.
McFadden released her and barked to Archie, who stood in the doorway: “Hold her.”
Gabrielle could only stare at Sebastian, her heart pounding. She had been through much training on what to do in situations such as this, but reality was far worse. She was an orphan. She had no one she cared for. Frightening scenarios of family members being used against her had meant little to her, which was one reason she’d been such a good operative. She’d had nothing to lose.
But now she did. Now she had Sebastian, and her fear was tenfold, a hundredfold, since she knew exactly what McFadden had planned for them.
McFadden was standing behind Sebastian, a long sharp knife in his hand. He grabbed a handful of Sebastian’s hair and yanked his head back, exposing his throat.
“No,” Sebastian whispered between swollen lips, but he wasn’t speaking to McFadden. He was speaking to Gabrielle. He knew. He knew what fate awaited him, and he was telling her what to do. Even in this he had to be in charge.
“Tell me what the crown knows,” McFadden demanded of her.
Gabrielle tore her gaze from Sebastian to look in horror at McFadden. “Don’t do this.”
“England took my beloved. Raped her and threw her used body in the weeds for my sister to find. Do you think I care about you and your feelings?”
She was breathing rapidly, fear a living thing inside her. She had known fear but not like this. Not this numbing terror that weakened her knees.
“Don’t, Gabby.”
She caught a glimmer of Sebastian’s eyes through the swelling. Don’t tell him, he seemed to be saying.
“Tell me.” McFadden placed the sharp edge of the knife right beneath Sebastian’s Adam’s apple. Gabrielle’s gaze was riveted to the thin line of blood that welled there.
“Don’t,” Sebastian bit out in a gravelly voice. “Don’t do this, Gabrielle.”
Her stomach lurched. She knew her duty to her country. She knew what she must do. Sacrifice one to save many. But didn’t she also have a duty to her heart? She’d given up so much for this country, all willingly, and she’d been grateful for the opportunity, but when was enough?
And where the hell were Atwater and his men? They’d promised that they would be minutes behind her. All she had to do was distract McFadden, lull him into a false sense of security as they boarded the ship. They should have been here by now.
“I…” She licked her lips.
“Tell me or he dies,” McFadden said. “Or do you not love him enough to save his life?”
Her gaze
flew to McFadden before sliding back to Sebastian. “I love you,” she said to Sebastian, because she hadn’t had a chance to tell him before. Because both of them had been thick-skulled and stubborn and proud, and they’d lost the chance to tell each other what they felt. Because things weren’t going as planned, and she was damned if Sebastian would die without knowing her true feelings.
His body clenched and his fingers flexed. “Gabby—”
“He will kill us regardless,” she said. “I just want you to know that I love you.” She didn’t care that McFadden was listening. She just wanted Sebastian to know.
Sebastian’s eyes closed for an agonizing moment. “I love you, too. Always have.”
“How incredibly touching,” McFadden mocked.
Gabrielle pulled her gaze from Sebastian to McFadden. “I will tell you nothing.”
The knife slid away from Sebastian’s throat and hung at McFadden’s side. “A pity that love did not prevail. But there are other ways to get the information I seek.” He sauntered out from behind Sebastian’s chair and moved toward her.
“No,” Sebastian said as he strained against his bindings. “Damn you, no!”
Gabrielle tensed, and a calmness descended over her. It seemed as if her entire life from the age of twelve on had been primed for this moment, for this act. She had trained for this inevitability, had known from the beginning that it could come to this.
With a flick of his wrist, McFadden shooed Archie away. The man stepped back to huddle by the door. Gabrielle raised her chin, straightened her shoulders, and locked gazes with Sebastian. She hoped he saw her love through her eyes. She hoped he understood what she was trying to tell him. She hoped she would die honorably.
He was fighting his bindings, straining to get to her, but he was weak and he was tied securely and he wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to him. Sorry he had to witness this. Sorry they had foolishly wasted their time. Sorry that things could not be different.
“Gabby,” he cried out. “Gabby.”
McFadden stood before her and looked her up and down. “A life for a life,” he said. “An eye for an eye. My Aileen was raped and murdered. It’s only fitting that I do the same.”
“No!” Sebastian bellowed. He strained so hard against his bindings that his chair moved a few inches, but it was useless.
“It’s all right, Sebastian,” she said, finding the need to comfort him. “It will be over soon.”
“No, Gabrielle. Don’t do this. Tell him. Please, I beg you. Tell him.”
She looked at him sadly. “Mission first.” She pulled her gaze to McFadden. “Do what you must, but you will never get the information you need. Not from us.”
Though he smirked, there was surprise in his eyes and maybe a bit of admiration. “Too bad you were born on the other side of the border. You would have made a good Scotswoman.”
“Gabby,” Sebastian bellowed. “Don’t do this.”
McFadden pushed her against the wall so hard that the breath rushed out of her and she saw stars. His hands clawed at her skirts. A rush of air against her legs told her that he had raised them high. He pushed his pelvis against hers, leering down at her.
A noise from above gave him pause; he cocked his head to listen as he locked eyes with her. Enormous relief rushed through her. Atwater’s men had arrived. That didn’t mean her life was saved, but it meant Sebastian did not have to watch her be raped.
“What have you done?” McFadden said.
“You are caught, traitor.”
“No.” There was denial in his tone and in his eyes. He would fight to the very end because he believed in his cause and he believed in his absolute right to take revenge for his Aileen. In some ways Gabrielle respected him for that. But her respect went only so far.
“No,” he said more passionately as he raised his knife above him. Gabrielle tensed, prepared for the inevitable.
Suddenly the door crashed open and two of Atwater’s men stormed in. Behind them came more. Archie tried to run, but he was caught.
McFadden spun Gabrielle around to use her as a shield. She dropped to the ground, slipping out of his grasp, and rolled, taking McFadden’s legs out from underneath him. He was quickly scooped up by the men, his hands tied behind him, and dragged away at gunpoint.
Gabrielle grabbed the knife McFadden had dropped and crawled to Sebastian to cut his bindings. He slid off the chair to his knees and gathered her to him.
For long moments neither spoke. Sebastian simply held her and rocked her back and forth, and she buried her head in his shoulder and let the tears fall.
Eventually he pulled away and wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Damn, but that was far too close,” he said, making her smile before he pulled her back to him as if he couldn’t let her go. “Never again, Gabby. We are never doing this again. I’m retiring, and so are you.”
She made a hiccupping sound that ended in a laugh. “I am?”
“You are. We’ll retire to the country and do nothing more exciting than read by the fire with dogs at our feet.”
She gently placed her hands on either side of his bruised face and looked into his eyes. “That sounds like heaven.”
Chapter 20
Atwater stared at two of England’s former spies. “Married,” he said in disbelief. “You two are married.”
“By special license,” Sebastian said. He was holding on to Gabrielle’s hand and refused to let go. Truth be told, he hadn’t let her go in the seven days since their encounter on the ship, and he had no intention of letting her go anytime soon.
“You’re not allowed to get married,” Atwater said.
Beside him, Sebastian felt his wife tremble, but he knew it was from mirth. It felt good to see her smile. She had done little of that in the past seven days, and at night he had to hold her tightly to keep at bay the nightmares that had her crying in her sleep. In time the nightmares would fade, just like the bruises and swelling on his body were beginning to do. He knew that, but it didn’t stop him from worrying.
“Tell the vicar who married us,” Sebastian said. In truth, he couldn’t care less what Atwater said. He was finished with the Office. All he wanted to do was take his new wife to his country estate, where they could both heal and learn to forget.
Atwater pressed his lips together. “This is unfortunate. What are we to do without the two of you?”
“I daresay you will find someone to replace us rather quickly. Come now, Atwater, did you really think we would do this forever?”
Atwater looked down at his desk and seemed to consider the question. “If not forever, then longer than this.”
“Can you not wish us happiness?” Gabrielle asked.
Atwater’s head jerked up and he appeared chagrined. “Of course, Lady Claybrook. My felicitations. I am truly happy for you two. Sad for me but happy for you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Gabby said.
“You do know that operatives don’t really retire, don’t you? If there is a case—”
“No,” Sebastian said.
“I didn’t think so, but I had to try.” Atwater’s smile faded and he turned serious. “You might want to reconsider when you hear the news that I have just learned.”
Sebastian tensed and Gabrielle’s hand tightened around his. “What happened?”
“We were transporting McFadden to Newgate when the convoy was attacked. McFadden escaped.”
Sebastian drew in a deep breath and looked at Gabrielle, who was looking up at him. It was amazing how important she had become to him, and how quickly. For the past year he’d been fooling himself into believing that he didn’t love her and didn’t need her in his life. He’d wasted precious time convincing himself that he was better off alone when he could have been spending that time with her.
And yet he had a burning hatred for McFadden, who’d put shadows in Gabrielle’s eyes. He’d made her cry out in the middle of the night, and he’d stolen her smile.
But none of that was enough to bring Sebastian out of retirement. To bring them out of retirement. This was their time, and McFadden wasn’t going to steal any more of it from them.
Sebastian turned back to Atwater. “Someone else will have to find him.”
Atwater shook his head. “Married and retired. What is this world coming to?”
“Are you certain?” Gabrielle asked Sebastian as they left Atwater’s office.
“More certain than I’ve ever been.” He kissed her on the nose right there on Atwater’s stoop, where anyone could see them, and he didn’t give a damn. “It’s someone else’s turn to catch the bad blokes.”
Gabrielle squeezed his hand. He had meant it when he said he was never letting her go. Literally.
“I’ve already caught my bad bloke.” She smiled up at him, and his heart soared to see that sunny smile.
“And I have caught my lady spy.”
Epilogue
SCOTLAND, THREE MONTHS LATER
Mairi McFadden raced up the front steps of her crumbling home. It was surprising that she had the energy to do so, after the afternoon she’d spent with the other ladies in the fields, hoeing the rough rows to ready the dirt for planting.
She was exhausted. Her body ached and she wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for a hundred days. But sleep was out of the question when she had so many mouths to feed and so many people relying on her.
Instead of entering the keep, she plopped down on the top step and ripped open the letter that had arrived that morning but no one had told her about. It was from her brother, Grant. It had to be. She would know his writing anywhere.
For a moment she held it close to her bosom and blinked tears away. If only Grant would return. He would take over his rightful place as laird of Clan McFadden. He would know what crops to plant, and he would know how to bring back the men to care for those crops.
Mairi blinked away the tears and read the letter dated three months ago. With a silent cry, she stood and looked around frantically. No. No, this was not happening. This could not happen.
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