by Brenda Joyce
He eyed her. “Are we going to have the exact same argument of a moment ago? I think not.” He reached for her, but as he did, she saw him deliberately fight the urge to wince. “And you know as well as I do, if I stay here with you, I will not be getting a great deal of rest.”
She pulled away. “So you are leaving in the morning?”
“We will both leave.” He was firm. “I know that you are reluctant to return to your uncle’s because of your aunt. But it is so much safer for you. I cannot leave, not if you remain here.”
She studied him and he stared back. Of course she should not remain at Roselynd alone. She knew she had to tell him about the intruder; she could hardly keep such a secret, and it might even affect him, as a spy. With tension, she turned, slid to the floor, and with her back to him, she quickly shrugged on her nightgown. When she turned, he wore a soft smile. “You are so impossibly alluring,” he said.
She refused to be distracted. “You are right about one thing. I should not be living here at Roselynd with Aimee.”
“Good, then we are agreed.” And as if he knew there was more, his eyes narrowed. “Evelyn?”
She hugged herself. “I haven’t told you everything, Jack.”
His stare hardened. “What does that mean?”
“About two weeks ago, the day Lucas called, we had an intruder break into this house.”
“What?” he exclaimed, his eyes darkening.
“I was preparing for bed when I realized an intruder was in my chamber. He seized me. And he had a knife,” she said.
Jack leaped from the bed, grunting. “You are telling me this now?” He was incredulous.
She flushed, but he pulled a sheet from the bed and wrapped it around his waist. “I could hardly worry you when you arrived at my door bloody and unconscious!”
He loomed over her. “What happened, Evelyn?”
She trembled, as his tone was so dangerous. “He held a knife to my throat and told me that if LeClerc was betrayed, I would pay, and so would Aimee.”
He blanched.
“He then left,” she added, her voice tremulous.
He inhaled harshly. “I cannot believe you are telling me this now! Were you hurt?”
“No. But I was very frightened.”
“And this was two weeks ago? Why the hell didn’t you send word?”
“We were hardly on good terms,” she cried.
“So what?” He suddenly seized her arm and pulled her closer. “Don’t you know I would always come to you when you are in danger or trouble?”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t know.”
“Then know it now!” He released her and paced angrily. “Forget Faraday Hall. You are going to London. Amelia is about to have a child, so you can stay with Julianne and Paget.”
Evelyn gasped. “I can hardly impose!”
“But I can—and I will. Robert cannot keep you safe, not if something happens to LeClerc. Paget keeps guards. The authorities often watch the house, as well. And because of his past as Pitt’s spy, I can tell Dominic everything. I can, in fact, think of no safer, better place for you.”
“What about Looe Island?” She could not believe she had been so bold, but she realized she wished to stay with him then.
“I am not always there, Evelyn. When can your household be ready to depart?”
Evelyn was amazed by the rapidity of events. “Jack, it would take days to ready my entire household to leave.”
“Be ready tomorrow,” he said. “I am giving you one more day.”
* * *
THE HOUSE WAS IN AN UPROAR, with everyone, herself included, packing up their belongings frantically now. It was the following morning, and Evelyn thought they would be ready to depart in the midafternoon. Packing up clothing had been the easiest task, but for an extended stay, there were personal possessions, books and ledgers, which had to be boxed, too. And with prices so dear, she would not leave behind any perishable items, either.
Laurent had gone to town and Trim had lent them his wagon, so they had two vehicles instead of one.
Now Laurent appeared on the threshold of Aimee’s room. “This is madness,” he said, scowling. “But if you must know, the pantries are almost bare, and my wagon does not have any space left in it.”
She smiled, avoiding eye contact. “That is wonderful.”
He folded his arms and stared. “Why are we in such haste? What has happened? Why won’t you look me in the eye?”
She flushed. She could not tell Laurent that Jack was a spy, and that she had been threatened by his French allies. Nor could she declare that Jack’s enemies might simply seek him out at Roselynd, putting her and Aimee in harm’s way. She had deceived Laurent deliberately, telling him that Julianne had invited them to spend the summer with them in London. Laurent had been thrilled—he loved town—but then he had become suspicious. After all, most of the ton left town for their country estates in the summer. “I just think it’s best for Aimee, to live with some luxury. I could not refuse Lady Paget.”
He harrumphed. “You spent the night with him.”
She tensed. Jack had come to her bedchamber again last night, but she had not been surprised—she had been waiting for him. Without saying a word, he had taken her in his arms, and this time, he had not left her until dawn. “Yes, I did.”
“This is about Greystone, I am certain. For some reason, he is sending you to London. As he was badly beaten, can I assume he is afraid of his enemies? But why, why on earth would his enemies be a threat to you?”
She sat down hard on the edge of her bed. “Oh, Laurent. If I could tell you his secrets, I would. Can’t we please leave it at that?”
He sat down beside her. “I have never seen you happier—and I have never seen you as frightened.”
“A widow should not live alone as I am doing, not on this desolate moor, not with a child—not in a time of war.”
He took her hand. “There are so many rumors about him. But I think I know what is happening. He is one of our spies—and the French think to hurt him—or even kill him. And now you are his lover. So you could be in danger, too.” He was pale. “We could all be in danger if he stays here with us.”
Evelyn was relieved that he thought Jack a British agent, but before she could respond and reassure him, there was a firm knocking on the front door. She stood up, wondering who could be calling—perhaps it was Trev.
Jack came striding into the bedroom from his own chamber, where he had been resting. She smiled but he did not smile back, instead hurrying past her to one of her bedchamber windows, as Jolie began barking and the knocking resumed. In that moment, the banging became demanding and urgent. Evelyn knew it was not Trevelyan at her front door.
Her room faced north, and the driveway and the garden in front of the house was below the window. Jack stiffened as he looked outside. “Soldiers,” he said.
Evelyn felt her heart lurch with alarm. She ran to the window and saw five mounted cavalry in red uniforms and black helmets, muskets strapped to their shoulders, swords at their sides. Their bay horses were lathered and blowing. The determined knocking sounded again. Jolie barked more insistently now.
“Is anyone home?” someone shouted. “Open up!”
She looked up at Jack, aghast. He said, “They are here for me.”
He was going to be arrested, she thought in panic. But he laid his hand on her arm, smiled briefly and faced Laurent. “Delay them,” he said. “Give me five minutes, if not ten.”
“Where are you going?” Evelyn cried, but he was already rushing across the room. “How can you possibly hide?”
He did not answer, now in the hall. Evelyn took up her gun, meeting Laurent’s eyes. He said, very low, “He found tunnels, madame, his first day here.”
She was stunned. “He was barely conscious!”
“He knew where to look, and he sent me to find them. One leads to the stables. The rest, I do not know.”
The tunnels had been used for smugglin
g by the house’s previous owners. And clearly Jack had known where to find them—he had made certain to locate an exit for himself, should the need for a hasty escape ever arise. “You will show me later,” Evelyn managed.
His gaze dark, Laurent nodded. Evelyn hurried out of her bedroom, her pistol in hand, Laurent following.
In the corridor, she glanced back at Jack’s room. It was already empty. He had taken the back stairs.
They ran downstairs, just as the officer opened the front door. “Sir! You have scared me witless,” Evelyn cried.
Standing outside, the door wide-open, he glanced at the gun she held, and at Laurent, and then past her into the entry hall. Evelyn heard footsteps and turned. Adelaide and Bette stood there, Aimee between them. Jolie was on a leash, now wagging her tail.
“Mama?” Aimee cried, frightened.
Evelyn gave the officer a fierce, warning look. She then rushed to her daughter and knelt, somehow smiling. “It is all right, darling, these are British officers—good men, who will protect us from bad people like the French soldiers in Paris.”
Aimee was trembling and near tears. “Tell them to go away!”
“I intend to do just that.” She kissed her cheek. “Adelaide, take her into the kitchens. And take Jolie.” Dismayed, she heard how sharp and nervous she sounded.
Adelaide gave her a worried look, hurrying Aimee and the mastiff puppy off, Bette following. Evelyn waited till they were gone before she turned to face the officer. “You are scaring my daughter, sir.”
“I wonder why.” He bowed formally. He was about her own age, and rather good-looking, with brown hair and green eyes and a wide, flat nose. “Captain Richard Barrow, of the Royal Horse Guards. I presume you are the Countess D’Orsay?”
Had he just challenged her? She was taken aback. “Yes, I am Lady D’Orsay, Captain, and my daughter is frightened because she has not forgotten what it was like, living in Paris under Robespierre. She is afraid of all soldiers, and with good cause.”
His smile was cool. “And I am sorry to have frightened a child, so I must apologize. Have I interrupted, Madam Countess?”
“Of course not,” Evelyn returned.
“I was knocking on your door for a great many moments,” he rejoined, his gaze on hers.
Evelyn gestured around her. “As you can see, I am quite preoccupied today.”
“Yes, you are obviously vacating the premises. May I ask why?”
“We are going to London, sir.” She inhaled. “Not that it is your concern.”
“I will decide that,” he said.
He was most definitely hostile, she thought. “How can I help you, Captain?”
That cool smile reappeared. “I have learned that you are harboring an enemy of the state, madam, a man wanted for treason. Where is Jack Greystone?”
She felt paralyzed, but with an effort, she said, “You have misheard, sir. I would hardly harbor an enemy of this country.”
“I have it from an excellent source—and the gossip is all about the countryside.”
“I never heed gossip, nor should you. As for your source, he or she is wrong.”
He smiled slowly at her. “If you do not mind, we will search the house and the grounds.” He turned and signaled his men.
Alarm flooded her. Was Jack in the tunnels? Would he attempt to hide in the stables? Or would he try to leave the estate? In any case, she had been told to delay, and delay she would.
“I am sorry, Captain, but as you can see, we are very busy today as we are about to leave for town. This is a highly inconvenient time for you to turn my household upside down. Hopefully, my word will suffice. Mr. Greystone is not here.”
He stared. “I would also remind you, Countess, that if you are aiding and abetting him, that is also a very grave crime, punishable by imprisonment or transportation.”
She stiffened. “He is not here, sir.”
“I am afraid, then, that your word is insufficient. For I have also been told, on good authority, that you are friendly with Greystone. We are going to search the house, the stables and the grounds.”
“Do you have papers, documents, if you will, or even some kind of warrant? Otherwise, I do not think you can simply barge into my home!”
“Of course I can search this house—and I do not need a warrant or any unusual authority to do so.” His cool smile returned. “This is war, Countess.” He turned and waved his five men, now dismounted, inside.
Evelyn was horrified. She could be arrested. Of course, she would always help Jack, but how had she gotten into such a position? It would be different if her daughter did not need her so.
And she prayed the captain would not find Jack.
As his men entered the house, Barrow turned to her. “Why don’t you take a seat, madame? In the salon, if you please.”
Evelyn realized it was not a request. She shared a worried glance with Laurent, as Barrow added, “And you, as well, my good fellow. Please take seats and remain there until I tell you otherwise.”
Evelyn inhaled and walked into the salon with Laurent. She sat on the sofa, as he did, and then he took her hand. They exchanged another look but said nothing, listening to the booted steps of the soldiers as they went through every room on the ground floor, then went upstairs.
No more than a quarter of an hour had passed when Barrow appeared on the threshold of the salon, his gaze cool. “My men have found five used beds, not four. So you have had a guest?”
Evelyn stood up.
“Do not deny it, Countess. For we have also found a bloody shirt in the garbage.”
Laurent got to his feet. “The shirt is my cousin’s, Captain. He was in a fight two nights ago and I put him up without the countess’s knowledge. He left this morning, in borrowed clothes, and my wife threw out his shirt.”
Barrow stared. “I will repeat what I told the Countess D’Orsay. Greystone is a traitor. If you are hiding him from us, you will be charged as an accomplice to his treason.”
Laurent turned white.
The captain turned to Evelyn. “Where is he? He could not have escaped, not unless he left before we arrived.”
Evelyn swallowed. “He was not here, Captain.”
He smiled dangerously at her. “I wish to speak with your daughter.”
Evelyn froze, and then her heart thundered. “Absolutely not!” Aimee had met Jack, and she would innocently reveal that he had been in the house!
“I am not asking your permission!” He whirled, striding out.
Evelyn ran after him. “You will not distress my daughter, not any more than she is already distressed!”
He ignored her, hurrying with hard strides through the house and into the kitchen. Evelyn remained at his heels, panting. “Sir, I beg you!” she cried. Aimee would be so frightened!
And Aimee was sitting happily at the center table with Adelaide and Bette, with three small pots of paint, a brush and parchment. She had been painting a brown pony in the midst of pink flowers. As they entered the room, her smile vanished and everyone at the table became silent.
“What is her name?” Barrow demanded coldly.
His back was to her as he faced the table and Aimee; Evelyn walked around him and barred his way. “You will not torment my daughter!”
He stepped past her. “Child, I wish a word with you.”
Tears filled Aimee’s eyes and she looked at her mother. Evelyn rushed to her and swept her into her arms. “Get out,” she screamed. “Get out now!”
Barrow stared, frustrated. “This is inexcusable!” he exploded. “You are an émigré, my lady, and my country has welcomed you with open arms in a time of war and revolution. Now I seek a traitor—a villain who betrays us both! Jack Greystone is your enemy, madam, not just mine!”
Aimee was crying now. Evelyn held her and spat, “Then do your duty and find him—but leave me and my child out of this!”
Barrow trembled with anger. “We will search the stables and the grounds. If he is here, I am arresting
you, madam.” With that, he spun on his heel and left.
Holding Aimee, Evelyn collapsed into the closest chair. “It’s all right,” she whispered to her daughter, but she knew it wasn’t true.
She and Aimee were in more danger than before, but not from LeClerc and his fanatics—from the British authorities, because she was Jack’s lover. And even as she now understood fully why he wished to end their relationship, even as she now agreed that it must end, she prayed he had escaped.
* * *
IT HAD TAKEN AN HOUR to calm and distract Aimee, but now she was in her room, practicing her handwriting, with the puppy soundly asleep by her feet. “Darling.” Evelyn smiled brightly. “Can I leave you with Bette? I still have some packing to do. Remember, we are going to town shortly!”
Aimee smiled at her. “So you like my letters?” She showed her the page filled with a carefully scripted alphabet.
“Your handwriting is beautiful,” Evelyn said, meaning it. She suddenly kissed her cheek, hard. Inwardly, she felt nauseous. How dare Captain Barrow think to question her daughter!
Evelyn quickly left the bedchamber, and the moment she was in the hall, her smile vanished and she was ready to collapse. She did not want Aimee involved in these frightening and dangerous war games! But she was Jack’s lover, so she had put her own daughter in terrible danger. It was one thing to endanger herself, another to endanger Aimee.
And Jack remained injured. Was he even now in the tunnels, hiding? Or had he somehow fled the property? And how could he do that, when he was hurt and on foot? At least he had his carbine and dagger with him. His weapons were not in his room.
As she turned toward the stairs, Laurent came hurrying up them. “How is she?” he asked.
“She has forgotten the ugliness of the afternoon. He left a soldier here, Laurent. I can see one outside my bedroom window!” She trembled with outrage. She had been in disbelief when she had seen the soldier earlier, seated outside beneath a tree, his horse hobbled and grazing. Clearly, they meant to watch the house and arrest Jack if he dared return.
