“I could,” he said his brows up. “Easily. So could any decent sailor.”
She waved him off. “Don’t be silly. Anyway. The person trying to reach me would have to know which room I was in in this mammoth house and then either find me from within the house or climb up from the outside.”
He looked up. She was right. It was difficult. “You’re going to stay home tonight, correct? You’ll not go out to the docks where you’ll be in danger?”
She smiled at him, her hand giving his arm another squeeze. “Are you worried about me?”
He grimaced. “I find I am. You’ve got very little sense.”
“I beg your pardon,” she huffed.
“Fleur,” her mother called from inside. Clearly, they’d dallied too long.
Dez moved them in front of another set of open doors. “Stay home. If you want to help me, you can write a note to your father’s friend and see if he’ll meet me. But be delicate. Tell him that you’ve found a lead and need his help.”
She nodded. “I’ll send it as soon as tea is over.”
“Good,” he replied. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Fleur’s mother, Mrs. Dupont, had risen and was making her way toward them. “May I call on you tomorrow?”
She raised her brows. “Of course.”
“And you’ll stay home tonight?”
“Yes,” she said with a quick jerk of her chin. “I could use one night of sleep. But you promise to tell me what happens?”
He liked this clause less. Truthfully, she should stay away from this entire business. It was too dangerous and… “Fleur.”
She stopped. “I’d hate to have to come myself to find out.”
He rumbled out his irritation as he stopped staring down at her. “You won’t.”
“You’ll tell me tomorrow?”
With a quick nod, he started back into the room. He rarely compromised. What had possessed him to do so now? He shook his head as they made their way back to the empty settee.
While the guests looked like they’d just gotten cozy, Dez made his excuses and left the party.
Fleur had given him a great deal to think about. And it was not the perfect pink of her lips or the sweet feel of her hand on his arm.
What he needed to focus on was his business. The work of his entire adult life. But why did that suddenly seem far less important than it had for the past eight years?
Chapter Six
Fleur drummed her fingers on her dressing table as her other hand propped up her chin. The clock in the hall struck seven just as the sun was setting in the sky showering the world in pinks and oranges.
Had Dez managed to get the decoy into the harbor on time?
Had Le Serpent come and tried to damage the shipment?
Had Dez captured him? The very idea of it made her head spin with excitement. If any man could accomplish the task, it was him. It was odd, she supposed, that she had such confidence in him. Yes, he’d managed to catch her, but she was a novice. And yet, she had more faith in him than she had had in anyone in a very long time.
She’d had a tray brought to her room, crying off dinner with the complaint of a migraine. Which was the truth. The waiting made her tired eyes ache. More than once, she’d considered travelling to the docks, but she kept her word to Dez. She now sat in her night rail and dressing gown. She’d not know anything until tomorrow and in the meantime, she ought to catch up on her sleep.
Still, rather than slip between the covers, she stood watching the sunset out over the ocean.
Had she told him too much today? Despite the feeling that she could trust him, she’d betrayed LeBeouf’s confidence when she’d shared his name. He’d helped her and helped her father transport his wine over the years.
Had she been disloyal?
What about Dez’s assertion that a Frenchman, acting as an English spy, who helped transport illegal wine into the country, was certainly up to no good? That’s what Dez had meant, hadn’t he? And she had to confess that when she’d considered the idea, it had twisted her stomach into knots. Her father had been consorting with Le Serpent. Was it possible LeBeouf was cut from the same cloth?
He couldn’t be. He’d been their friend for years and sat with her and her mother at many a dinner as he’d shared their wine.
Still, she’d written the letter to LeBeouf as Dez had requested. In it, she told LeBeouf she’d discovered vital information, needed his advice and found an ally she’d like him to meet.
Was her trust in Dez just attraction sizzling through her or was he truly the man that she believed him to be?
One thing was for certain, he seemed to know exactly what to do.
From the decoy ship to the courting ruse, he was peeling back the layers of this mystery with far more efficiency than she ever could have imagined.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” she called.
Mary entered, carrying a tray with a steaming pot of tea. She came in and set the tray on the table next to Fleur’s bed. “I thought it might help you sleep.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
Mary twisted her hands. She turned to leave and then twisted back around, facing Fleur. “I’m glad to see you in your night rail, miss.”
Fleur stopped, eyeing the maid she’d been assigned by her uncle. She liked Mary well enough. She’d been sweet, attentive and discreet, but there was an implication in Mary’s words. Did she know what Fleur had been doing at night? “Thank you?”
Mary cleared her throat. “It’s just that you’re usually still in your walking gown.”
Fleur’s lips pressed tightly together. Mary had clearly taken note, at least in part, to her nighttime activities. And apparently, she wished to call Fleur out. “I find I am very tired this evening and plan to go to bed early.”
Mary took a half step closer. “It’s all right. I shan’t tell anyone.” She took another tentative step. “I’ve just been worried, that’s all. And I know we didn’t meet Lord White in the village.”
Fleur winced, dropping her head, so Mary didn’t see her expression. She wasn’t certain she knew Mary well enough to make her a confidante. “No. We didn’t.” She rose from the seat and started toward Mary. “But I can assure you, our relationship is all very proper.”
Mary raised her hands. “I’m not judging.” Her hands pressed together. “I saw him, Lord White. When he left.”
Fleur stopped.
“He looks like…” she looked at the ceiling. “Like the sort of man who can help you.”
Fleur stopped, her shoulders slumping. She was so tired and there was only so much she could keep from Mary. “He does, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. Am I right that he is taking care of whatever you’ve been leaving to do?”
Fleur reached the bed that Mary stood next to and she sunk down, sitting on the edge, her head dropping down into her hands. “Yes.” Somehow, Mary’s knowledge made her even more thankful she’d listened to Destrian. Confided in him. Her secrets felt dangerously close to unravelling.
Fleur shook her head. Would running the business be this complicated? Would she need help with that, too? She loved her father and wanted to solve the mystery of his death, but she also had to confess she’d wanted to prove something to herself, too. That she could fill her father’s role at the helm of the family’s winery. But how could she be in charge if she didn’t know who to trust?
Should she confide in Mary? She rubbed her temples as she let out a long breath.
Her own deceptions seemed to be unravelling before her eyes. There was nothing to do but take a chance. “Mary. Sit.”
Mary sat next to her, adjusting her skirts as she did. “Yes?”
“You know what happened to my father.”
“I do.” Mary turned toward her. “And I assumed you were investigating. But you should let Lord White do the job for you.”
Fleur shook her head. “How do I know that I can actually trust him?”
Mary shr
ugged. “Sometimes you just know.”
Sometimes you just know. The words echoed back in her head. Did she just know Dez was trustworthy? In her heart, she believed she did.
* * *
Dez stood on the docks as the hour crept toward midnight, the clear night making him even cagier than the fog.
They’d brought the decoy ship in at six as planned. Nothing had happened. No one had attempted to sabotage the vessel or even make an appearance. Dez should have been relieved. If that had been the actual ship with cargo, they could have unloaded without a bother.
Relief was the last emotion pumping through him.
His actual boat would be venturing into the harbor soon. The one loaded with powder. Will stood next to him, having brought the other ship in and then sent it back north when nothing had happened.
“Any word from Justice or Sayden? Did they have enough product?” Will asked staring into the night from his place next to Dez.
“No word.”
“Is there powder on the ship then?” Will shifted nervously.
Dez took his eyes from the darkness, turning his face to his friend. Didn’t Will understand he needed to concentrate now? His questions of late had been incessant. “We’ll meet our contract one way or another.”
Will gave a tight nod. “I’ve every faith in you. I just…” He raked his hands through his hair, scrubbing his scalp.
“What’s wrong?” Dez asked, shifting to face Will. It was time they got to the bottom of the tension Will seemed to harbor.
Will gave him a thin smile. “The explosion has me rattled, I guess. I should have caught that fire before it destroyed the entire ship.”
Dez clapped Will’s shoulder, understanding softening his shoulders. “You did your best.”
Will shrugged, his eyes still on the dark sky. “What did you learn from the French woman?”
Dez’s mouth thinned as his jaw clenched, all the tension returning. For some reason he didn’t wish to speak of Fleur to Will. “Nothing of interest.”
That made Will look at him. “Really?”
Dez shrugged. “It was a coincidence she was there. That was all.”
Will dropped his arms. “You’re telling me that she was on the docks the night of the fire by pure coincidence?”
No, but he didn’t need to share that with Will. First, because this conversation was breaking his concentration, but second, because some instinct told him not to involve Fleur and Will in any way. “She’s just a woman.”
A lantern lit the inky sky bobbing slowly along the horizon.
Will didn’t seem to notice as he made a choking sound. “I don’t believe it. What was she doing here then?”
Dez shook his head. Will had never questioned him this way before. What was going on with his second in command? “Looking for a lost love. Pining because she’s been forced to marry. Contemplating ending her life. Take your pick. There are several plausible explanations. But whichever you choose, don’t tell me. I’m done fucking talking about this.”
“So, what have you got then? Anything that will lead us to the culprit?”
Dez watched the ship bob closer. He’d not answer. Will needed to shut the hell up.
Will stared at him for several seconds before he said, “Nasty business.”
“Agreed.”
The ship was making its way toward the docks, the outline becoming clear in the dim moonlight. Finally, the man had ceased his prattle.
Will shifted again. “I know you’re working on it, but what specifically have you learned? Anything of consequence yet?”
Dez opened his mouth and closed it again. “Will,” he pushed out between gritted teeth. The man was testing his patience. Any other man, he’d have fired him by now. He opened his mouth to say as much but he stopped. In the pale light shimmering over the water, he caught movement to his right.
He squinted into the darkness trying to discern what he was seeing.
Will stepped in front of him. “White. We need—”
He pushed Will out of the way, his gaze narrowing. If he wasn’t mistaken, that was a rowboat heading out into the harbor in the middle of the night.
“White,” Will gritted out shoving back.
“Shut up,” he snapped. It was heading straight for his ship. Pulling a pistol from his belt, he yelled into the night, his voice nearly drowned out over the roar of the ocean. “Turn the ship,” he yelled again as he pulled lead from his pouch. Readying the gun, he raised his arm up, firing into the air.
The shot had an immediate effect, the sails snapping as they changed direction. The boat swooped in an arc, making its way back out of the harbor. He gave a roar of satisfaction as he trained his sights on the rowboat which had also started back toward the beach. “Who goes there?”
For a moment, all he could hear was the water. But then a flash of light lit the boat, and it took a moment for him to realize that they had also fired.
He heard the lead whiz by as both he and Will dropped to the wooden planks beneath their feet.
“Fuck,” he growled out as he jumped up again, sprinting down the dock. His best option was to try and catch them, whoever they were when they beached.
But with the time it took him to race back to the beach and the fact the rowboat allowed the tide to pull them away, they were gone by the time he’d reached the sand.
Will came up behind him several seconds later. “Do you see them?”
“What the fuck was that?” Dez barked back. “It’s like you were trying to get in the way.”
Will went silent. He gave Dez a hard stare. “I just wanted to know where the investigation was at. I’m worried.”
Dez ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t respond. Will had nearly caused him to lose a second ship of cargo.
“What do you want me to do now?”
Dez scrubbed his face. The ship had to come into the harbor eventually. But he’d bring the boat in with the full light of day. In the meantime, he needed to find out who had been on that rowboat. “Go home.”
Will’s hands dropped. “That’s it? I can fetch the cargo or—”
“Go home, Will. I’ll send for you when I need you.”
Will jerked his chin. “Fine.” Then he disappeared into the night.
Dez started for the street, his own plan in mind. His carriage was parked in a quiet alley and he climbed in, giving instructions to the driver.
Will had been a man that had helped him a great deal over the past few years but lately…
He winced. Lately, Will had been different. And Dez realized he hadn’t trusted his right-hand man the way he once had.
He couldn’t quite put his finger on when the change had occurred but throughout the past week, Dez realized he’d withheld information from Will. And he’d kept him away from the manufacturing site.
Dez was a man who often acted on instinct rather than reason. Had a few fumbles on Will’s part made Dez cautious around the man or was it something else?
He searched his memories, trying to pinpoint his feelings. It was more…
The way Will needled for information. The way he always seemed to be at the heart of the trouble.
But if he couldn’t trust his second in command, who could he trust?
His brother, Ben.
He was going to need a duke’s help.
Especially with what he was about to do.
The carriage pulled up at the gates of the Earl of Aberdeen’s home and Dez climbed out. First, he needed to know that Fleur had not been in that rowboat. And then, he’d need to discover if she was affiliated with the men who had.
His attraction aside, it was time to discover once and for all if Fleur was a criminal. He hated to even think she could be, but before he went any further, he needed to squash the nagging doubt flickering in his mind.
Slipping through the night, he used a trellis to reach the second-floor balcony. Then, crossing to the corner of the building, he scaled the stones that protruded for ornaments
sake, though they made a nice ladder.
He swung himself onto the first small balcony and then easily jumped to the second, the one belonging to Fleur. The night was warm and despite his warning earlier, she’d left the door propped open a bit.
He growled out his dissatisfaction. The chit. What had she been thinking? He’d told her the building was easy enough to climb.
Peering in, he noted she was in bed. The covers were about her waist, her night rail visible. An arm was flung over her head, her body relaxed in sleep. She looked like an angel. What was more, it would have been nearly impossible for her to beat him here.
Which meant, she hadn’t been on that boat.
His shoulders slumped in relief.
He reached for the knob. Part of him wanted to wake her, question her about the events of tonight. But knowing she was here, he could learn everything else from her in the morning. He’d close the door at least and seek her out during her calling hours.
But he stopped as he caught sight of a shadow in the room.
His senses grew sharper as he watched and listened. Something was moving toward the bed.
He squinted.
Not something.
Someone.
Chapter Seven
Fleur was dreaming.
Or was she awake?
She’d been sound asleep, exhausted from the weeks of sleeplessness.
But her first indication something was wrong was the sound of the ocean. Why could she hear it so clearly?
And as her mind cleared, her second thought was Dez and his warning about her safety.
She lifted her head, staring at the cracked door. Why was it open? She’d not left it so. Had Mary thought the room too hot?
She squinted toward the door and tried to puzzle out the problem. A light breeze blew into the room, pushing the glass door wider. How long had it been open?
But her thoughts stopped short as something dropped over her face. A pillow?
It was cloth and feathers, but it stole her breath in a second, drowning out the scream that built in her chest. Her heart stopped dead for a moment and then began a wild thrum as she attempted to draw in air.
Her Willful White: Dark Duke’s Legacy Book 2 Page 5
