When his features began to take shape, I clasped my hands over my mouth, unable to withhold the sob that had been building in my chest. He staggered over a depression in the earth and clambered up onto the road, sizing up the situation in one glance before dropping to his knees before me.
“You . . . you wretch!” I cried, swatting at him even as he pulled me to his chest. I collapsed against his shoulder, gripping the sides of his coat in my hands as I wept.
“I’m all right, Verity,” Sidney crooned rather stiltedly. In truth, he sounded a bit stunned.
I pulled back, swiping at the tears on my face, and lowered my hand to find it covered with grit. It was then I realized that he was coated in a fine powder of dirt.
I lurched away from him, scanning his face and torso. “Are you injured? Were you hit?”
He shook his head. “No. I . . . I stopped to turn back about a minute before . . .” He swallowed. “Before the explosion.” His body trembled as he inhaled a deep breath. “He must have stepped on a buried shell or mine.”
“Why did you go after him?” I demanded, my anger returning now that I knew he was safe.
“I couldn’t let him get away. The man meant to kill you.” His eyes gleamed with fervor. “I wasn’t going to give him the chance to try again.” He lifted a hand, smoothing my hair back from my jaw. “But then I realized it was suicide. That there were too many unseen hazards. Trenches, and shell holes, and coils of barbed wire, and . . . and unexploded shells.” He paused, searching my face. “That I had no desire to actually leave you a widow. Not when there are so many men already waiting in the wings.”
I shook my head. “Oh, Sidney. You know they . . .”
He never let me finish my sentence, capturing my mouth with his own. I wrapped my arms around him, never intending to let go.
Then a voice to my left cleared its throat, and I pulled back, though not too quickly, for Sidney would not allow it. I flushed, looking over to where Max still stood with his gun pointed at Moilien’s collaborator.
He smiled good-naturedly. “Pardon the interruption, but what would you like to do with this fellow.”
Sidney opened his mouth to answer, but the sound of voices calling to us in the direction of our parked motorcar made him reconsider. It was the Rijkswacht officers who were supposed to join us. They must have heard the explosion.
He shrugged his head in their direction. “Why don’t we ask them.”
CHAPTER 31
“Nice work.”
I blinked my eyes, realizing I’d been staring sightlessly at the urn of flowers on the table across from the sofa where I sat. Captain Landau stood over me, his mouth curled in a knowing grin.
“What are you doing here?” I replied in startlement, setting my cup of now tepid tea next to my other half-empty cup on the table beside the sofa.
Once Étienne Moilien’s associate—a man from Lille he’d hired solely for this purpose—had been taken into custody and the bombs had been roped off and marked for immediate removal, we had returned to Max’s hotel in Poperinghe. Alec and Rose had already been there waiting for us, after finding no trace of Moilien or tampering with the road to Boeschèpe. Though Alec had stubbornly awaited our arrival, Rose had soon bustled him off to rest. He had aggravated his injury, and Rose was intent on bullying him into taking care of it.
Meanwhile, Sidney, Max, and I had remained in the drawing room to answer questions. It was already mid-morning, and the night without rest, and far too much strain, had taken its toll. My eyes were gritty and I struggled to stay awake. Though what I wanted most was to bathe away the dirt and muck that seemed to permeate my every pore. It had been two days since I’d had a proper bath. Two days of travel, and sleeping in a barn, and crawling through kerosene, and wading through the morass of the devastated lands. I was filthy and grimy, and probably smelled even worse.
Landau sat down next to me. “Well, I wasn’t going to leave you to face this bureaucratic mess alone.” He glanced across the room toward Sidney, who was shaking hands with two Rijkswacht officers. “Though it appears you’ve navigated through it well enough on your own and resolved this tangle with admirable speed.”
“This tangle?” I arched my eyebrows, ever bemused at the government’s ability to understate any incident.
“The Belgian government, as well as our own, will be reporting the matter as just another terrible accident. A tourist wandering into an area where he shouldn’t be.”
I’d figured as much. No one wanted the public to know that leftover German bombs had so easily fallen into the hands of a lunatic.
“Noted.”
“But even though you’re no longer an agent, and this incident never happened, I’m afraid I’m still going to need a debriefing report.” He at least had the grace to appear contrite while making such a high-handed request. “Take your time. The end of the week is soon enough to send it to me.”
As it was already Wednesday, I could only sigh and roll my eyes at this magnanimous gesture. “I do have one question we haven’t been able to answer that perhaps you can clear up.” My tone of voice made it clear he’d better not withhold anything. “How did Moilien obtain the address Madame Moreau gave La Dame Blanche?”
Landau grimaced. “We’re still trying to confirm, but we think he cultivated a friendship with one of the agents of La Dame Blanche in Liège, one who assisted Dewé and Chauvin as we’ve worked to liquidate the network.”
“One of the couriers?”
“Possibly. Whoever it is, we suspect Moilien somehow convinced them to share Madame Moreau’s address.”
“Never knowing it would place her in danger.”
“Undoubtedly.”
I shook my head. “That’s why she didn’t share what she knew with La Dame Blanche, and consequently British Intelligence. She didn’t know who could be trusted.”
“Well, fortunately, she found a way to lure you into it.”
“Lure” certainly felt like the operative word, but I didn’t regret it. I couldn’t. Not when we’d foiled a murderous madman, and in the process saved countless lives, including my own and Rose’s. And just possibly salvaged my marriage.
Landau clasped his hands in his lap. “C sends his regards, and his deepest thanks.”
So the chief had been kept apprised. Somehow I wasn’t surprised.
“Unofficially, of course,” I said.
“Of course.” Landau smiled. “It’s been good to see you, Verity.”
“Likewise. Look us up next time you’re in London.”
He pushed to his feet. “I will.”
And with that, he was gone, and my association with the Secret Service was severed yet again. Though, somehow, I wondered if it truly was. If it truly ever had been.
Max joined me a moment later, passing me yet another cup of tea.
“You and Sidney need to quit Mother Henning me. You must think I’m dying of thirst.” I gestured to the table full of cups. “If you must bring me something, you could at least have the decency to make it gin.”
His lips quirked. “Yes, well, it is only ten in the morning. I was worried I might shock the natives.”
I gestured toward my disgraceful appearance. “After seeing me, I think they would understand.”
His eyes flicked over me. “You look lovely, as always.”
“Stop it,” I retorted in aggravation. “I’m more ragamuffin than woman. Or do you need your eyes examined? Perhaps that flash damaged your corneas.”
He chuckled. “All right, I concede. You do rather resemble a dusty mop.”
I arched my chin. “Thank you.”
Silence fell as we stared at one another, and while it wasn’t precisely uncomfortable, it wasn’t easy either. His smile slipped a degree, though the warmth never faded from his eyes.
“You and Sidney seem to have resolved your differences.”
“Yes, more or less.”
“I’m glad.”
It might have been merely a courteous
statement, but I didn’t think so. I believed he meant it.
“I’m sorry you got dragged into this mess,” I replied, not knowing how to address the other.
“I’m not,” he answered modestly, catching me off-guard. Then he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to my cheek. “See you around, Verity.”
I watched him go, wishing there was a way I could give him the happiness he deserved. But it was not mine to grant.
My gaze shifted to the right to find Sidney studying me, a curious light in his eyes. I smiled wearily, and he crossed the room to join me.
“You look about as tired as I do,” he remarked, sinking into the cushions with a sigh.
“Given the lack of sleep you’ve gotten in the last three days since we left Liège, I think that’s doubtful.” I pressed my fingers into the front of his coat. “I suspect you’re dirtier, too, and I feel as if I’ve been dragged through a sandpit.” Dropping all pretense at good humor, I settled into the sofa beside him. “Please, tell me they have a room for us.”
He smiled, draping his arm around my shoulders. “They’re preparing it for us now. And I asked them to go ahead and draw us a steaming bath. I’ll even let you go first.”
I sank my head down on his shoulder. “I knew there was a reason I married you.”
“Yes, well, remember that the next time you drag me on one of your exploits.”
I began to nod, until his words fully penetrated through the haze of my fatigue. “The next time?” I lifted my head to look at him.
He yawned. “Yes. Somehow, dear wife, I suspect this is only the beginning.”
I couldn’t tell whether he was displeased by this or not.
“That may not be true,” I replied. “Perhaps we’ll settle down quietly in the countryside with a gaggle of children and nothing to concern us but the state of the roads for our Sunday drive.” Even as I said the words, I already dreaded them.
Sidney shook his head. “No, Ver. You and I were not meant for ordinary lives.” His gaze turned tender. “And I do not regret that. Not for one moment.”
“Truly?”
He lifted a hand to my chin. “Verity, I adored the woman I married. But I think I adore the fascinating, complicated woman you’ve become even more. Misadventures and all,” he teased. But then sadness dimmed his eyes. “I only wish I’d been there to see the transformation.”
My heart warmed at his words, though it was tinged with a bittersweet ache. “We both missed so much. But we have years to make it up.”
He gently chucked me under the chin. “So long as neither of us has anyone else coming after us in reprisal.”
“Or to silence us before we uncover their deceit,” I added, not about to let him forget the reason for our last investigation.
He rested his cheek next to mine, murmuring in my ear. “Even then, I like our odds.”
“So do I,” I exhaled. “So do I.”
Anna Lee Huber is the Daphne Award-winning and nationally bestselling author of the Lady Darby Mysteries and the Verity Kent Mysteries. She is a summa cum laude graduate of Lipscomb University in Nashville, Tennessee, where she majored in music and minored in psychology. A member of Mystery Writers of America, Historical Novel Society, Romance Writers of America, and International Thriller Writers, she currently resides in Indiana with her family. Visit her online at www.AnnaLeeHuber.com.
Treacherous Is the Night Page 33
