“Lucien?” Henrietta stared at the pistol the comte held in his hand.
Henrietta stepped forward with her pistol aimed back at the comte. “Are you part of this—kidnapping my brother?”
Lucien didn’t appear fazed by her or Cord’s pistol. He walked calmly into the clearing. “I’m not part of the kidnapping, but I know where he took your brother.”
“You bastard.” Wycliffe sneered.
“Please, Lucien. Tell me,” she begged.
“Damn it, Henrietta, get behind me.” Cord kept his gun pointed at Wycliffe and grabbed her by the arm to push her behind him.
“I need to find my brother. Lucien, please tell me where my brother is.”
“Give me the book.” Lucien kept his gun pointed at her.
“You fool. Fouché will never release your sister.” Wycliffe gave a chilling chortle. “He’s probably killed her already.”
Lucien stepped closer and pointed his gun at Wycliffe’s heart. “Unlike Rathbourne, you’re no use to me alive.”
“Go ahead. If you don’t kill me, Fouché will. Fouché will kill us both,” Wycliffe said.
“Henrietta, keep your gun on the duke.” Cord turned his pistol on Lucien. “Drop the gun.”
Lucien fired at Wycliffe’s chest.
The duke fell backward, blood immediately covering his shirt. His face contorted in agony. “You bastard.”
Wycliffe fell to the ground with his eyes open. His chest rattled with one last motion.
Lucien stared at the duke. “It’s all been for nothing. Fouché will never release my sister and I’m a dead man.” A report echoed from the woods into the quiet space. Lucien suddenly fell forward onto the dead duke, a gaping hole in his back from an unknown attacker.
Cord tackled Henrietta to the ground. Her breath was knocked clear out of her, her face pressed into the dust. Cord’s weight on top of her didn’t allow any movement or any breath. She panted.
“Stay down. Someone fired from the bushes.” Cord lifted himself off of her and crawled on his stomach toward the lake. Gus followed Cord.
“Cord, be careful,” she cried.
“Stay down until I signal it’s safe.” With his pistol in his hand, he proceeded toward the sound of the shot.
She couldn’t get the air to move into her lungs. Panic skittered up and down her spine. The dead bodies of both men lay a few feet from her. Her heart pumped frantically. She wanted to scream, to run. Instead, she rolled to her side and searched for her gun. She waited on her side with her gun pointed at the woods.
Cord returned from the bushes with Gus close behind. “The shooter has fled through the undergrowth. The recent rain has made it easy to see his footprints.”
“I’ve got to find Edward.”
Cord reached down and took her hands. “We’ll find him.” He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. She hugged him around his waist, breathing his clean smell and leaning into his warm strength.
“What is that sound?” Cord asked.
Gus stood next to the boat in the water and whined in a pitiful way. “It’s Gus. He’ll lead us to Edward!”
She took hold of Cord’s hand. She needed to stay connected to him.
Cord squeezed back, his heat seeping into her cold hand.
“Gus, find Edward,” she said.
Gus ran back and forth between the lake and the boathouse, his nose to the ground, howling an unsettling cry.
“Edward must be close,” he said.
“You don’t think Wycliffe harmed Edward?” Her voice, like her entire body, shook.
“There would be no reason for Wycliffe to kill Edward. I’m sure we’ll find Edward none the worse for his adventure.” He pulled her close against him. His confidence and soothing voice calmed the panic whispering along her skin.
Gus ran ahead, nose to the path, howling an eerie lament, for the lost Edward.
Behind Gus, they hurried through the bushes on the overgrown path that skirted the lake. She clung to Cord’s hand, although the brush became so thick they had to proceed single file.
Gus ran through the bushes then started to bark frantically.
“Gus must have found Edward.”
Cord turned and put his fingers to her lips to warn her to be quiet. He whispered. “Let me go first to make sure there is no one guarding Edward.”
“I can help you distract whoever is guarding Edward.”
Gus continued to bark.
The undergrowth cleared when they moved deeper into the woods.
“Stay here. If Edward is guarded, I’ll signal to you. Shoot your pistol into the air. With the distraction, I’ll take the man unaware. For no reason are you to come forward until I give you the signal.”
He took her by the shoulders. His eyes focused on her. “Henrietta, promise me.”
“I’ll do as you say, but…”
“Let me focus on finding Edward. I need to know that you’ll be safe.”
He asked for her trust. She looked into his eyes, his feelings were hidden. He waited. She nodded an affirmative.
“I’ll wait for your signal. But don’t take too long,” she said.
He kissed her quickly. “Thank you. I know how difficult that was.”
Henrietta checked the powder in her pistol despite her shaking hands. It was dry and ready. She silently prayed they’d find Edward unharmed.
The song of a wood thrush was the only sound except for Gus’ excited barking. Her hope mounted, assured that if anything was wrong, Gus would’ve been distressed.
Cord shouted, “Edward is here and safe.”
She ran with her pistol in her hand through the low bushes and emerged into a small clearing of trees. Cord was bent, cutting ropes away from Edward’s legs.
Edward had been gagged and tied to a tree. Her stomach lurched as if she might vomit.
Gus circled and barked at his best friend.
“Gus, I knew you would find me.” Edward’s voice was tinny, as if he was ready to cry.
The dog jumped up to lick Edward’s pale face.
Henrietta ran to her brother, tears falling from her eyes. “Edward, are you all right?” Edward’s face contorted as he tried not to cry, but the tears dripped down his cheeks.
Gus yipped and ran between Henrietta and Edward, jumping on both.
“He said he was going to kill us. He kept me here for hours.” His voice cracked.
“He will never harm you again. He’s dead,” Cord said.
Sensing Edward’s near collapse, she brushed the hair from his face. “He could never have hurt a Harcourt. What do you think of your brave dog?”
When Cord cut the final rope, Edward slid down the tree to the dirt.
Henrietta gasped. “Edward.”
She reached for him, but Cord was quicker. He grabbed Edward and held him upright, his arm around Edward’s shoulder. “Do you want me to carry you? Do you need to rest?”
“I want to go home,” Edward pleaded in a voice that she hadn’t heard in years. Edward threw himself into her arms.
She squeezed him tight against her. He wrapped his arms around her.
Her voice sounded strained with the pent-up emotion. “Let’s go home. Mrs. Brompton has promised you anything you want for dinner tonight.”
“I’m starved. I missed tea,” Edward complained, already recovering.
Henrietta couldn’t tell who required more support. She held onto Edward, planning to never let him go. Cord wrapped his arm around Henrietta and Edward. A triumphant Gus led them out of the woods.
Chapter Thirty-Five
What was taking Henrietta so long? Cord stood and began to pace in the Kendal library. She had taken Edward upstairs to get him settled while he stayed to entertain Uncle Charles, who was oblivious to the day’s terrors. Charles had finally retired after a lengthy discussion about mummification. And Henrietta still hadn’t appeared.
He understood her need to hover over Edward. He had the same need to hover over her. He wanted h
er by his side, to touch and hold.
He took the Rathbourne betrothal ring out of his pocket and examined it again. The shimmering emerald matched the bright color of her eyes when she was in a temper or in the throes of passion. Remembering Henrietta’s response to his love-making last night had kept him in an aroused state since he left her that morning. Was it really just hours ago?
How could events have gone so awry? When he left her earlier, he had planned to return to obtain the codebook and to propose to her. Instead, Edward had been abducted and Henrietta had embarked alone again into danger.
He had failed to calculate that the eleven-year-old needed protection. He had Talley guarding Uncle Charles. He had underestimated the desperation of the enemy. What had happened to the rational, analytical spy? Love.
He had been so blinded by his overwhelming need to protect Henrietta that he had failed to consider her brother. He had guards in place at Kendal house, but he hadn’t thought Wycliffe would be desperate enough to risk an abduction in a public park.
He fingered the ring again. He wouldn’t leave Kendal house tonight without her promise. He was about to resume his pacing when Henrietta entered the dimly lit library. Cord felt the shock to his system. He could barely breathe with the sight of Henrietta dressed in her simple nightclothes.
“Cord, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. Edward was distraught. He had to recount his experience several times.”
He couldn’t focus on what she was saying. The soft, white material clung to all of his favorite curves. She took a step toward him, then another, and molded herself into his arms.
“You were wonderful with Edward. You’re going to make a great father.”
He couldn’t speak, enveloped in her smell of lilacs, her warm softness pressed against his body. Although new to love-making, Henrietta was progressing masterfully in the art of seduction. He was in a tortured state of physical and emotional arousal. His failure not to anticipate the abduction and to protect Henrietta had him tied into crazy knots.
She fussed with his coat lapels. “You do want children, don’t you, not just an heir?”
His brain failed to grasp what she was talking about. He couldn’t think. His body had superseded his brain. “What’s wrong, Cord? You seem tense?”
He had to suppress the need to laugh out loud. Tense didn’t come close to what he was feeling. His hunger for Henrietta, mixed with his guilt, swirled into a reckless potion.
“I failed to protect your brother, and, because of me, your life was in danger.”
“Oh, darling, you’re not responsible. Wycliffe and Lucien were the villains.” She rewarded him with a slow, sultry kiss.
“I promise to do a better job of protecting you.” He was having trouble delivering his thoughtful speech when Henrietta used her tongue most effectively to cause his blood to pump in an incessant beat through him.
“Cord, you’ve done a splendid job protecting all the Harcourts.” She traced his jaw with her tongue to his ear.
He was breathing like a draft horse. He pulled her tight against his hardness. “I never thought it could be like this—all consuming, the need to be with you, to protect you.” He needed to make her understand. He took her by the shoulders. “I was angry at your meeting with Isabelle because…” His voice choked. “I didn’t want to lose you like Gray. When I got the message today that you had gone to meet a murderer… I’m never afraid.”
She stepped back to look into his eyes. “Because of you, all the Harcourts are safe…well almost all the Harcourts. I wish I knew that Michael was on his way home.” She said the last words against his chest.
“We finally received a message from Brinsley. Michael escaped Paris.”
“Oh, thank God!” Henrietta sobbed.
Cord held her, kissed her hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. With all that has happened today, there wasn’t time.”
“He’s on his way home? But why haven’t I heard from him?”
“The French must have been intercepting the messages from Brinsley. It’s the only thing that makes sense. I’m not sure if it was Talleyrand or Fouché’s men who were intercepting the messages.”
“I don’t think Michael had any idea when he took the codebook that he would initiate the dangerous intrigue between the two Frenchmen.
“Fouché’s assassin was seen down at the docks leaving London. I’m sure he killed De Valmont at the Serpentine to prevent any connection between him and Fouché from surfacing. Fouché doesn’t want Napoleon to suspect his nefarious plots.”
Henrietta stared at him as if trying to understand. “Three people killed over a codebook.” She shook her head in disbelief.
“Don’t think about them, they weren’t innocent.” He kissed her on the forehead, on the cheeks.
“When will Michael be home?”
“The message was brief. Michael and his bodyguard, Denby, left Paris with a child.”
“A child?” Henrietta laughed. “Sounds like Michael got himself into another McGregor?”
Cord hadn’t found any humor in Kendal’s latest imbroglio. Kendal needed a firm hand to guide him and Cord was just the man to do it. But tonight wasn’t the time to reveal his plans for her wayward brother.
“Cord, why didn’t you tell me that Michael was being guarded by two of your men when I came to your office?”
“At that point, I wasn’t sure what was going on. And then, you were so damned skeptical that I wouldn’t be able to protect your brother. Of course, after today’s debacle with your younger brother, maybe you were right not to believe in me.”
“Cord, you did protect me and my brothers. Caring for people is a risky business. How could any of us believe Edward would be a target? But you and Gus found us and saved us. You did the best any person could possibly do.”
She took his hands and started to kiss his palms. Slowly, reverently, she looked into his eyes. “I’ve regretted the day in your office. I didn’t know what a trustworthy man you were. I was in shock by Sir Ramston’s retirement and seeing you. I didn’t understand that my fierce reaction to you was my own fear. I never wanted to need anyone until I met you. I was trying hard to fight my attraction to a rake.” With this comment, she started to run her hands over his chest. She looked back into his eyes. “I’m finding loving a rake quite pleasurable.” Her voice got lower, husky with the age-old invitation.
They had both been afraid to need another person, to trust their feelings, the intense and frightening feeling of needing another person. Recalling the force of his emotions when he saw her walk out of the boathouse at gunpoint, his voice deepened. “Don’t ever try anything like what you did today. I damn near died when I saw Wycliffe forcing you out of the boathouse with a gun pressed against your back. I don’t think I can live through another experience like that again.”
She looped her arms around his neck. “Darling, I knew you would rescue me. I was just waiting for you. I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”
“Henrietta, I’ve been thinking of our lovemaking all day. I hardly accomplished anything in my office. My every thought was to rush home and make love to you again.”
His words and his caresses were having an effect. Her face was flushed, her breath was coming in little puffs.
“It’s the same for me. After today, when Wycliffe had that knife pointed at your chest, I kept remembering that I hadn’t told you how much I love you. I never want to go a day without our love-making. And I will tell you over and over again, I love you.”
She was kissing the side of his neck and at the same time pulling off his coat. He quickly abandoned his plan of telling her how he was going to keep her and her family safe.
He peeled her robe from her shoulders, running his hands down her arms. He felt her shudder. “What am I going to do with you?” He slid her nightgown down, nipping at her neck.
She melted against him. “You don’t know what to do with me? With all your years of love-making?”
He looked down at his Henrietta, sprawled naked on the settee, total trust in her eyes. He knelt down beside her and took her slight hand into his. “Henrietta, will you be my wife?”
“I was wondering when you would get the hint about our children. I shall never let you go.” She grabbed him around the neck, pulling him down. He began to feast on her full pink nipples. He could hear the hitch in her breathing. He needed to be next to her. He stripped out of the rest of his clothes, his eyes never leaving hers.
It was a fierce loving, the yearning of two bodies to reach beyond desire, to meld their futures together.
Cord didn’t want to move but his weight was crushing Henrietta. He kissed her reddened face lightly and rolled to his side. Seeing her sated, sleepy, he knew he wasn’t going to spend any more nights without her. “How about tomorrow for our wedding?”
She sat up.
“We’re marrying as soon as possible. I don’t want to spend another night apart. I sent Ash for a special license this morning before all the chaos erupted.”
“Tomorrow? I don’t want to be apart, but I can’t marry you until Michael returns home.”
Naked, he towered over her. “Henrietta, let me be clear. I admire your fierce loyalty to the Harcourt men, and I’m willing to embrace them as my own family. We’ll take good care of them, but I’ll not wait on your errant brother. It may be weeks before he returns. I can’t wait weeks.”
His voice grew huskier when he looked at her. God, he wanted her again. “When Michael returns, we’ll have a wedding ball at Rathbourne house to announce our marriage and to welcome Michael home.”
“A wedding ball, what a splendid idea.” She began to cover herself with the shift lying on the floor next to the settee.
“We can share the joys of the wedding with your family, but I won’t wait to share the joys of the wedding bed every night.” He moved toward her, his erection jutting out.
A Code of Love (The Code Breakers 1) Page 22
