by Laura Landon
A sudden chill swept into the room, and the knot in Millicent’s stomach tightened painfully.
“Radburn,” a small, dark-haired lady said as she rushed through the entrance and across the room. “I’ve been so anxious to see you. I thought we’d never arrive.”
The Earl of Radburn stepped forward and gathered his mother in his arms. Not that she’d have prevented him from doing anything different. It was obvious the two had a very close relationship despite the man who stood—figuratively—between them.
“How are you, Mother?” Radburn held his mother at arm’s length and looked at her, then brought her back to him. The expression on his face contained the same warmth Millicent saw when he looked at Elizabeth.
“Excellent, Radburn. Now that I’ve arrived.”
At that point, she turned to the man who had yet to enter the room. “Marcus, you remember Monsieur Roseneau. And Phillippe, you’ve met my son, Marcus, Earl of Radburn.”
“Of course, my lady.” Roseneau’s gaze met Radburn’s. “Lord Radburn,” Roseneau said, bowing respectfully. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Millicent took note of the man Barnaby had sworn vengeance upon, and a wave of vile hatred surged through her.
He was a striking man, tall and impeccably dressed. He was handsome in a suave, mature way. He presented himself with confidence and authority, as if he were accustomed to taking control.
He was dark skinned, like those who hailed from the south of France. But his eyes were the feature that drew her attention. They were so dark they appeared black, and they focused on Radburn as if sizing him up for future conflict.
Millicent’s first instinct confirmed the threat that Barnaby had warned her Roseneau presented. The thought that ate at her insides was the knowledge that this was the man who’d murdered her mother and her father. That this was the man who’d intended to kill her brother and sister, and who gleefully thought they were dead. And even though they weren’t, he’d succeeded in leaving Thomas scarred beyond healing and had stolen Polly’s chance to grow into adulthood knowing her mother’s love.
Millicent kept her hateful gaze hooded and focused on Phillippe Roseneau. She felt nothing but loathing. Nothing but revulsion. He’d taken everything important from her, and she realized that Barnaby wasn’t the only one who wanted Roseneau dead. So did she. And she wouldn’t rest until he paid for what he did. Even if it cost her life.
“Mother,” Marcus said as he led his mother toward them. “May I introduce to you my future bride, Lady Millicent Chandler, daughter of the late Earl of Renfrew.”
Millicent rose and curtsied to the woman who thought she was meeting her future daughter-in-law. When Marcus’s mother opened her arms, Millicent allowed herself to be gathered to her.
“Oh, my dear,” Lady Radburn said, releasing her. “You can’t imagine how pleased I am to finally meet you. I feared my son would never present me with a daughter. And in time, a grandchild.”
“It’s a little presumptuous to count on grandchildren already, Mother,” Radburn said. “We haven’t even married yet.”
“But you will in two days’ time. I’m counting the minutes. But how rude of me, my dear. I haven’t extended my sympathies on your tragic loss. I can’t imagine.”
“Thank you, Lady Radburn. It was the dearest part of my heart.”
It was all Millicent could do not to glare at Roseneau to acknowledge that she knew he was guilty of her parents’ murders. But she kept her gaze focused on Marcus and his mother.
“And of course you remember Lady Carlisle,” Marcus continued, introducing Elizabeth.
“Of course I remember her. I also regret your loss, my lady.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth answered.
“Millicent. Elizabeth. May I present Monsieur Phillippe Roseneau.”
Millicent gave Roseneau a sharp nod that hardly sufficed as a greeting.
“Please be seated,” Millicent said, leading her guests to a cluster of chairs and sofas. “I’ll order fresh tea. I’m sure you would like some refreshment before you go to your rooms.”
“That would be lovely, Millicent.”
Millicent rang for tea while Marcus’s mother made herself comfortable. Roseneau took a place on the sofa next to Lady Radburn. When Millicent returned, she took her own seat next to Marcus.
Her gaze focused on the Frenchman who’d destroyed her world.
As if Radburn realized how close Millicent was to clawing Roseneau’s eyes out with her fingernails, he reached over and placed his hand atop the clenched fists in her lap.
Millicent lifted her gaze and silently let him know that she appreciated his concern but that she was all right. Except she wasn’t. Her heart ached like it never had before, and she knew the only person who could ease the pain was Barnaby.
She wasn’t sure how she could survive another day without him.
Chapter 19
Millicent burst through the open French doors that led to the terrace and took in a deep breath. She’d never been so glad to finish a meal as she was the one she’d had to suffer through sitting opposite the man who’d murdered her parents.
She didn’t know how Lady Radburn couldn’t see through his salacious façade. How was it possible for Marcus’s mother not to realize that every word out of his mouth was a boastful lie? That every endearing expression that rolled off his tongue was at best insincere and at worst laced with some horrid sexual innuendo? How could she give her heart to someone as false as Phillippe Roseneau?
Millicent gripped one of the sculpted columns that surrounded the terrace and looked out into the darkness. The few decorative lanterns that hung from various branches in the garden gave the area a hint of shadowy light but not enough to see the marble paths that wound through the garden. If they had, Millicent would have strayed far from the house. Far from Roseneau. Instead, she pushed herself from the railing and paced the terrace.
She thought of Barnaby. She missed him far more than she thought possible. Especially tonight. Especially after having to endure Roseneau repeatedly directing the conversation to his false sympathy for the loss of her parents.
She hated him. She looked forward to the day when the authorities hanged him for treason. For murder. Then her parents’ deaths would be avenged. The man who’d killed them would pay for what he’d taken from her. And from Thomas and Polly.
She stopped and looked upward to stop the wetness that wanted to fill her eyes. She would not cry. She would not allow Roseneau to break through the wall she’d erected around her heart since her family had been murdered.
She blinked several times, then froze, sensing she was not alone. She turned.
“I hoped I would find you out here,” a silky voice whispered.
Millicent lifted her shoulders and faced him squarely. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Can’t you?” He took several steps across the terrace until he was close to her. “Perhaps to discover why you’ve taken such an instant dislike to me.”
“Perhaps it’s in my nature to be wary of people until I know them.”
“Or is it that you formed an aversion to me because of something you’ve heard or imagined?”
“I don’t have so active an imagination as to invent stories about someone I’ve never met.”
“Am I to understand, then, that you have believed some negative rumor about me?”
Millicent focused her glare on him. She knew that even in the dim lighting it would be impossible for Roseneau to miss the intensity of her feelings. “Is it so impossible for you to believe that my first impression upon meeting you was simply negative? Surely I am not the first person that has not fallen at your feet in adoration.”
Roseneau smiled. “Would it surprise you to know that most people I meet actually like me? It distresses me terribly to know that you have formed such a low impression.”
“I wish I could say your distress concerns me, but nothing could be further from the truth.” Millicent turned to
leave. She couldn’t wait to get away from him. She took one step, then another, and then his voice stopped her.
“Do not leave, Lady Millicent. At least not until you offer me some hope that I might redeem myself in your eyes.”
Millicent knew she should keep walking. But something inside her couldn’t walk away until she’d leveled one more accusation.
She turned—and found herself eye to eye with the man she detested most in the world. Before she could step out of his reach, he clamped his fingers around her upper arms.
“What can I do to convince you that your impression of me is misguided?” he said. His face was close to hers. His voice was a husky whisper. His tone seductive.
A stabbing of fear gripped her insides, and she twisted in an attempt to free herself from his grasp, but he would not let her loose. “Release me this instant,” she said in the most demanding tone she could summon.
“Ah, my lady. That is impossible to do. I am drawn to beautiful women like butterflies to flowers. And you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met.”
Before Millicent could fight him, his mouth descended on hers.
The feel of his flesh on hers was revolting. She fought him with all her strength, but he continued to kiss her. It was as if he believed she would give in to his advances after a little more convincing. That he could force her to accept his attentions. But that would never happen.
She struggled and freed one of her arms. In a move of desperation, she lifted her arm and raked her fingernails down his cheek.
Roseneau released a loud cry of anguish, then brought back his arm to strike her.
Millicent prepared herself for the blow but before his fist could strike her, Roseneau’s body jerked, then flew back several feet.
It only took a moment for Millicent to realize what had happened. Barnaby had come to her rescue. She watched as he rushed to where Roseneau lay and pinned him facedown against the cement.
Barnaby raised his arm and brought his fist down, striking Roseneau against the side of the head, then struck him again. After the third blow, Roseneau lay still.
Barnaby turned to where Millicent stood huddled in a corner. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten there. She didn’t remember moving. When Barnaby stepped near her, she flew into his arms and held him tight.
“Are you all right?” he asked, brushing his hands down her arms. “Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine.” Millicent looked to where Roseneau still lay without moving. “Is he dead?”
“He will be. Soon,” Barnaby said wrapping his arms around her.
He held her several moments, then lowered his head. Their gazes locked, then his mouth came down over hers. He kissed her long and hard, with more desperation than she was accustomed to.
“I’ve never been so frightened in my life,” he whispered as he kissed her cheeks, then moved to the sensitive flesh beneath her ear. “I was afraid I wouldn’t reach you in time.”
“But you did,” she answered, then met his lips when he pressed them against hers again. They kissed once more before he lifted his mouth from hers.
He held her a moment longer, then released her. “Go inside and stay in your room. I’ll take care of Roseneau, and I’ll come to you when it’s safe.”
They turned toward the place where Roseneau lay, and Millicent stifled a small cry.
He was gone.
“Bloody hell!” Barnaby swore between clenched teeth. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and took a step toward the spot where the body should be. Only a small puddle of blood, glinting like red diamonds in the moonlight, remained.
“Bloody hell.”
. . .
Barnaby stayed in the shadows and waited hours until he was sure everyone had retired for the night. He was desperate to go to Millicent. He needed to make sure she was all right. He was sure he’d reached her before Roseneau had harmed her, but the bastard had kissed her. He’d touched her knowing she didn’t want his attentions. What kind of an animal would do that?
When he was sure it was safe, Barnaby made his way to Millicent’s room and quietly slipped inside. The door barely closed behind him before her arms wrapped around his waist and she buried her head against his chest.
“Are you all right?” He gathered her close and held her to him.
“I am now that you’re here. I thought he was dead! I thought—”
“Sh.”
He held her a few more minutes, then picked her up and carried her to the overstuffed wing chair next to the window. He wanted to carry her to the bed and lie with her in his arms, but he knew he wouldn’t be content to simply hold her. He’d want to make love to her, and he couldn’t chance getting her with child. His blood ran cold thinking that it was possible that she already carried his babe.
Not that he didn’t intend to marry her. He did—if he survived this mission. But the chances weren’t good now that Roseneau had seen him. If Roseneau had seen him.
He held her close to him and wrapped a blanket around her.
“I’d rather we laid in the bed.”
He smiled. “I know you would. Which is exactly why we can’t.”
He heard her sigh, then smiled when she snuggled closer to him.
“I know you have a plan, Barnaby. What is it?”
He hesitated long enough that she lifted her head until her gaze locked with his. “How are we going to destroy the munitions and kill Roseneau? Again.”
Her bluntness made him smile. “You’ve turned quite bloodthirsty, my love.”
“Do you blame me?”
He sighed. “No.”
She snuggled back against him. “How are we going to destroy the ammunition stockpile and prove Roseneau is behind the sale of the explosives?”
Barnaby considered her question for a moment, then realized that it would be smart to share the plan with someone. Perhaps saying what he intended to do would reveal any miscalculations he’d made.
“My plan is quite simple, really. I’ll catch him in the act. When I confront Roseneau, he won’t be expecting me. I’ll overpower him and turn him over to the authorities. If he gets the upper hand, I’ll point out a fuse I’ve hidden. Once he sees that I can blow the place with him in it, he’ll be begging me to get him to safety.”
Barnaby felt Millicent relax against him, as if she could finally imagine a successful ending to the ordeal that had begun with her parents’ deaths.
He also knew the exact second she realized the risks in his plan, and he put his finger against her lips to still her objections. “Trust me. Hm?”
“What about me?”
“Your job will be to make sure Lady Radburn and Lady Carlisle remain here. That they stay safe.”
“What about the other guests?”
“There won’t be any other guests.”
Millicent sat up and turned to face him. The expression on her face contained open shock.
“Radburn sent notes to the guests today explaining that the wedding will be delayed. We can’t risk putting innocent people in danger.”
Millicent nodded. “I’m so grateful for that.”
“See,” he said, bringing her closer to him. “Everything is taken care of.”
“Not everything, Barnaby. There are still a few details I think you’re leaving to chance.”
“Like what?”
“Like how you will make sure Roseneau goes to the cave himself instead of sending one of his henchmen.”
“That will be my responsibility,” Barnaby said. “I’m not quite sure how I’ll manage, but I will.”
“And how will you guarantee that Roseneau doesn’t escape the cave? What if he realizes he’s walked into a trap?”
“He won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
But he did. He knew Roseneau would be trapped in the cave, because he intended to be there with him.
Barnaby couldn’t hold her gaze. Why couldn’t Millicent be like most of the other females in Society, who
accepted what they were told? Why was she blessed with a strength of character that surpassed even some of the males with whom he was acquainted? And why was she so damned intelligent that she was able to reason out the details he intentionally omitted? And yet . . . those were the qualities he admired most about her.
“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make sure he doesn’t realize it’s a trap.”
“And if he calls your bluff? About lighting the fuse?”
“He won’t.”
“And will you make sure nothing happens to you in the process?”
Barnaby forced a smile across his face. “I promise,” he lied. “Nothing will happen to me.”
She nestled against him and buried her face into his chest. “Hold me, Barnaby, and never let me go.”
Barnaby placed his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her face upward. Then he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers. His kiss was filled with emotion. It was needy with passion.
He didn’t think it was possible to love someone as desperately as he loved Millicent. Didn’t think it would hurt so much if he lost her. But it would. More than he could imagine.
Chapter 20
Barnaby rose from his knees and rolled his shoulders. Every muscle in his back ached from the hours he’d spent checking the cave for anything that might thwart his plan to capture Roseneau. He found the stairway that led up to the clifftop memorial garden Radburn had created for Millicent. Now that he knew Radburn hadn’t built the hidden stairs, he found it easier to forgive the man’s collaboration with Roseneau. Blackmail was certainly a wicked motivator.
But Roseneau’s crude staircase, which was built into the natural tunnel that descended to the beach cave, had been poorly concealed, and Radburn had acted quickly to make sure no one else might accidentally discover the secret passage on his property. As soon as this mess was over, he had told Barnaby, he was going to seal the tunnel.
The monument was an act of kindness that also served a purpose, and Barnaby had no quarrel with that.
