She ran Hillary to earth in the music room, where he sat idly strumming his fingers along the pianoforte. “Are you busy?” she asked unnecessarily.
He made a face at her. “That depends. Has Clarissa left?”
She shook her head. “I need your assistance with something.”
His whole face brightened. “No, really? Some errand you need run to Whitehall?”
“You are doomed to disappointment, I fear. I need a partner for piquet.”
His face fell. “Is that all?”
“What do you mean, ‘is that all’? It’s become my goal to defeat your brother.”
At that, Hillary laughed. “No one beats Belmont.”
He was more than willing to exchange pastimes, however, and she shortly found herself listening to his rapid and frequently unintelligible explanation of scoring and strategy.
The door opened and Belmont leaned negligently against the jamb, a slight smile touching his lips as his gaze rested on Hillary, who remained intent on his cards.
“She says you taught her to play,” the young gentleman declared without looking up.
“Yes,” Belmont admitted.
“She’s like to beat you all to flinders in another couple of months.” He tossed down the cards he held and shook his head. “Damned if I’ve ever met a female with such a grasp for cards!”
“Language, Hil,” Belmont said mildly.
Riki, who had been studying his face for clues, finally gave in to her anxieties. “Did you see him, Belmont?”
The viscount nodded. “I did. And I kept my hands off his throat.”
“Whose?” Hillary looked from one to the other, hopeful. “Are you planning to darken someone’s daylights, Gil?”
“What did you say to him?” Riki demanded.
“Very little. He has promised to meet my ‘friend’ in the Park tomorrow morning.”
Riki let out the breath she’d been holding. “That’s settled, then.” The next moment, her smile of relief faded. “Isn’t it?”
Belmont straightened slightly, his expression unreadable. “We shall have to wait and see.”
Chapter Twelve
Riki, dressed in the forest-green riding habit given to her by Felicity, perched precariously on her sidesaddle and shivered. It was freezing in Hyde Park. No wonder the fashionable world didn’t venture to London until the late spring, if the ladies were expected to wander around in flimsy gowns with only the slightest protection from the elements. A late January morning was no time to venture out of doors.
Belmont reined in beside her. “How are you doing?”
“Fine.” She made a face at him. “You’d never believe I was brought up with riding lessons, would you? I can’t imagine anything further from dressage than a sidesaddle.”
Belmont shook his head. “What I can’t imagine is a female riding astride.” He looked down the long expanse of tanbark, where not so much as a single rider could be glimpsed, then looked for at least the fifth time at his watch.
“David never could get anywhere on time.” Riki shifted in her saddle, trying to find a more comfortable position, and merely succeeded in setting her horse sidling.
A slight smile relieved the severity of Belmont’s expression. “I just want this over with.”
“You’re not the only one,” Riki murmured, and turned her attention back to the riding path before them.
Belmont started his horse moving and Riki’s went right along with him. They had gone no more than twenty yards when a tall chestnut came into view. The rider slowed to a walk, approaching with care as if watchful of trouble. As he neared, Riki recognized the tall, slender build of her cousin, his curling blond hair so much like every other van Hamel except Riki.
David was alive. Elation surged through her. She hadn’t really believed it until now. Her heart beat, rapid and strong, and unshed tears prickled her eyes. David was here, unharmed, not lost beneath the icy waves of the English Channel.
He came forward until his beloved features were clear, from his classically straight nose down to his squared chin. His gaze passed briefly over Belmont and he nodded, then he turned his attention to Riki. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
“Riki?” Her name came out in a shocked gasp.
“Hallo, David. Surprised to see me?”
“Surprised? Good God, I-I’m stunned! Riki!” He swung off his mount, ran the last few steps toward her startled horse and grasped her about the waist. Easily he swung her free of the saddle, then around in a circle as he hugged her, laughing, clasping her slight body to him. Tears streamed unashamedly down his cheeks. “Riki! I can’t believe it! It’s really you! But how—”
He set her on her feet at last, controlling his ecstatic delight with a palpable effort. Still, one hand cupped her cheek and an expression of disbelief mingled with doting fondness lit his bright hazel eyes.
She sniffed and sought for a pocket her riding habit didn’t possess. David located a handkerchief and handed it to her.
“How?” he repeated. “Dear God, Riki, I’ve never been gladder to see anyone! But how did you get here?”
“The same way you did.” She mopped at her streaming eyes. If he weren’t here, before her… She hugged him once more. “I thought you were dead. We all did.”
He managed a shaky laugh. “I doubt that upset the others very much. If there had been any way of letting you know I was all right, though, I would have—you know that. But you! Why—” He broke off, unable to find words. He grasped her hands, gripping them tightly. “Did…did you go sailing too?”
She nodded. “On purpose. Oh David, what we’ve gone through! Belmont washed up on Falconer’s Folly after being boatwrecked.”
“On… In the future? Our time? So that’s why the sailors thought him lost.” David drew a deep breath and turned to regard his associate. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”
Belmont, still atop his horse, looked down on the other two, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t want to take the surprise out of this meeting.”
“Lord, it’s a surprise all right.” The shock seemed to be wearing off, leaving David thinking more clearly. He returned his attention to Belmont. “You…you made the journey across time twice? It’s possible to get back? I-I thought it was some fluke, a once-in-a-million-years happening!” He grabbed one of Belmont’s reins and gazed up intently into the viscount’s face. “Is there a…a key? Or some trick to it? Can you do it whenever you want?”
Belmont shook his head. “I have no idea.”
The grim lines of Belmont’s face finally penetrated Riki’s euphoria, and she came back to earth with a resounding crash. She had been so very relieved to find David still alive, but now anger surged through her, directed at her cousin for causing such trouble, for the danger of the journey she’d made, for all her pent-up fears and terrors.
“David, how could you?” She grabbed his arm and shook it. “How could you try to alter history?”
“Alter what?” He dragged his searching gaze from Belmont’s rigid face. “What are you talking about? Oh, you mean just my being here. I didn’t have a choice, did I? Lord, when I woke up on that beach then found everyone dressed so strange—” His voice tightened and he broke off. “God, I was scared. I-I couldn’t believe it at first.” A shaky laugh broke from him. “I thought all that gaming must have affected my mind, that I’d either gone insane or I was dreaming. But it didn’t go away.”
“So you decided to continue your war-gaming then!” Riki accused.
A sheepish grin replaced his frown over his uneasy memories. “Well, can you blame me? Lord, I had the chance actually to take part in it all! As soon as I began to believe I was really here, that the Peninsular Campaign was actually taking place now, I presented myself to the War Office and told Lord Bathurst enough about French strategy that he took me on as a junior advisor.”
“To his expense! Oh David, how could you betray him?”
“Betray him? You couldn’t ha
ve wanted me to help the British, could you?” He stared at her, aghast. “That might change history! Lord, I could have told them enough so they’d have given Boney a rousing trouncing last summer! But then the war would have been over and God knows what would be different in our time.” There was no trace of blasphemy in his words.
“But—” Riki stared at him, bewildered. “Haven’t you been feeding them misinformation to help the French? You always took Napoleon’s side in your gaming. Isn’t that what you’ve been doing here?”
“Lord, it was a temptation,” he admitted. “Do you know, I honestly considered it? War-gaming for real? I would’ve given anything if I’d thought I could get to France and see Napoleon’s field marshals in action. He’s making such a serious muddle of his affairs.”
“Why didn’t you?” Belmont sounded merely polite, as if he weren’t really interested in the answer.
“You’ve never heard me try to speak French, that’s why I didn’t. I can read it, all right, but not even living near Jersey for a couple of years could make me understand it when someone talks. You should hear Marie’s—” He broke off abruptly.
“Would you have helped the French if you could?” This time curiosity sounded in Belmont’s voice. The cold fury Riki had glimpsed in his face only minutes before had faded into skepticism.
David hesitated, then shook his head, setting his carefully curled blond locks ruffling in the wind.
The Regency-era hairstyle suits him, Riki thought.
“No, I wouldn’t have dared give them any advantage. Oh, the temptation was there, you’d better believe it was.” A wistfulness entered his hazel eyes and he shook his head in regret. “I wouldn’t have dared, though,” he repeated. “If Boney routed the British in the Penininsula, he’d have been free to take his full forces into—” He broke off, casting a guilty glance at Belmont.
“Into Russia,” Belmont supplied for him.
David stared in surprise at his superior.
“You’re forgetting,” Riki broke in, destroying the illusion of omniscience. “He’s seen your gaming room on the island. And speaking of taking unfair advantage of the other side,” she said to Belmont, “I seem to remember you making detailed notes on everything you saw while you were in there.”
David nodded, smug in spite of the rather unusual circumstances. “Every detail is accurate.”
“I’m delighted to know it.” Belmont’s voice sounded tight. “And you are quite right, Miss van Hamel, I will not be able to pass on the information I learned in that manner.”
On the whole, she decided it was for the best. Then the meaning of David’s words of the last few minutes suddenly sank in. “He’s not a traitor! Belmont, I told you David would never do such a terrible thing!”
“If you believed that, then why did you insist on coming back in time to talk to him?” he snapped.
She couldn’t answer that, for in truth she had suspected David of trying to live out his fantasies. Or had there been another reason she’d wanted to accompany Belmont on that crazy, impossible journey? She looked up, met the brooding gaze of those gleaming, hawklike eyes, and knew there had been.
“Whatever made you think I was fouling things up?” David demanded, affronted.
“Because one of the battle scenes had been—” Riki broke off and stared at Belmont. “One of the scenes had been changed, remember? To give a definite advantage to the French! We both were convinced.”
Belmont nodded and returned his glare to David. “But you claim you haven’t been interfering.”
David looked from one to the other, encountering only accusation. “Now look, Riki, you know me better than that. I didn’t try to change history. Period. End of discussion!”
“But if you didn’t, then who has been? David, there is no doubt about it. Something happened that changed the course of the battle at—what was it, Belmont?”
“Ciudad Rodrigo.”
David nodded slowly but frowned. “That was an eleven-day siege, wasn’t it? Lord, anything could have happened. If one person was killed at the wrong time, particularly an officer, utter chaos could have broken out.”
“The French nearly won.”
David nodded absently, intent on his thoughts. “I’d need to see all the dispatches and learn all the details before I could tell you what went wrong.” He shot a half-humorous look at Belmont. “The reports aren’t in, yet, needless to say.”
“Needless,” Belmont agreed. “But the point is, something did happen that changed the course of the battle.”
“It wasn’t me.”
“What else could it have been?” Riki looked from one to the other as terrible thoughts jostled each other within her. “If David didn’t do it, then someone else did. Something happened differently.”
“Because I’m here.” David said the words slowly, as if they were dragged out of him. “But that…that’s impossible. I’ve been so careful! Damn it, Riki, I know the potential consequences! I’ve taken the greatest pains only to suggest or endorse those plans the British actually followed, and warn about the French moves that the British effectively blocked.”
All three fell silent for a moment, considering.
“Could just the mere fact of David’s presence be making a difference?” Riki asked at last. “Aren’t there some laws of physics or something that say there can only be just so much matter in the universe? Have you—and now me—upset the balance?”
Belmont looked skeptical. “That might explain the frequency of the thunderstorms, not the change in French strategy.”
“It might,” David said slowly. “If atmospheric conditions were altered sufficiently. Say it rained for so long that the ground was soft enough for easy trench digging. Or maybe it was too wet and trenches had to be abandoned?”
Belmont frowned. “That might be part of it, but I can’t believe it explains it all. There were far-sweeping changes in the course of the battle. No, I think there is more to this.”
He drew out his watch, glanced at it, then closed it with a snap. “I think it will be for the best if you go with me to Whitehall at once and resign your position, Warwick.”
“But—” David broke off, his expression harried. “You don’t believe me. Damn it, Belmont, I’m not misleading your War Office!”
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe you.” The viscount’s face remained devoid of expression. “I merely said it would be best, under the circumstances, if you were to resign. That way there can be no slip of the tongue.”
“Please, David.” Riki added in her plea, averting an argument. “We’ve got to return home as soon as possible anyway.”
“Return.” An odd half-smile just touched his lips. “God, how I’ve wanted that sometimes. But how?”
Riki met Belmont’s glowering gaze. “The very next electrical storm. We’ll have to try. We can’t stay here, you must see that.”
David’s face took on a mulish expression. “No, as a matter of fact, I don’t.”
Riki stared at him blankly. “But—”
“I’m not ready yet. Look, Riki, I’ve been living here for over two years. I have friends, a whole life, people I don’t want to walk away from.”
Riki knew exactly what he meant. Deliberately, she didn’t look at Belmont. “All right, there’s no sign of any thunder and lightning anyway. I suppose we can stick around for a few more days.”
“You’ll like it here, Riki. I never cared much for doing the pretty back home, but it’s different now. It’s more fun.”
“Just another of your games.” She didn’t even bother to keep the dryness out of her voice. “You’ve been wanting to live in this period for as long as I can remember, so quit trying to kid me. But home we must and shall go, David, before we do any lasting damage here.”
He nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. He cast an uncertain glance up at Belmont, still atop his stamping horse. “What will I tell Bathurst?”
“That you’ve received a summons from home. Fro
m your family. Ri—Miss van Hamel tells me our countries are about to become embroiled in a rather nasty war. Let’s not add to it by making him think it is your government calling you back.”
“Why don’t I set sail immediately then? And before you say ‘you should’, let me tell you I have no intention of leaving London at present.”
“Just say you’re waiting for me and I still have unfinished business,” Riki declared.
“I will escort Miss van Hamel home, then meet you in Whitehall.” Belmont held his gaze, commanding obedience. “I imagine our business will occupy us most of the day. You may see your cousin at dinner this evening if you will join us.”
David cast Riki a rapid glance and a dull flush crept under his tan. “I’ve got another engagement that I…I can’t cry off from. Can I meet you somewhere later? The Dalmonts’ card party, maybe?”
Belmont nodded. “Very well. But I will see you in my office within the hour. You may oblige me by assisting your cousin into the saddle.”
Meekly, Riki submitted to David’s surprisingly adept help. The suspicion crossed her mind that he had assisted many young ladies into saddles during the last two years. The dreadful thought that perhaps David had met someone and formed a—what did they call them in this time, a lasting passion?—yes, a lasting passion, dawned on her and refused to be banished.
Her eyes drifted to Belmont, who spurred his horse ahead. Grasping David’s hand, she bade him goodbye until evening, then hurried after her companion.
They rode in silence for some time and at last she risked a peek at him. Deep lines marred his high brow and his eyes gleamed with a dark, piercing light. At a rough guess, she would say that Viscount Belmont was not pleased.
“What’s wrong?” she asked finally, when he showed no sign of speaking.
“Do you believe him?” he asked abruptly.
“About not helping the French? Yes, I do.”
Falconer's Heart Page 17
