Her lips opened against his and moved with him in perfect counterpoint. It was all new, yet an ancient dance. Her hands weren’t soft; light calluses from her work and the trials of the past few years scraped along his neck. She toyed with the hair at his collar before tightening her hold for a deeper kiss. Bold and fragile, she was all things.
The housekeeper spoke from the hallway beyond the door.
Jacques broke the kiss. Regret could not begin to describe his emotion as he separated from her. Dropping a kiss on her sweet nose, he closed his eyes. “Were we not in Francis’s study, it would be impossible to leave you.”
A shy smile tugged at her red lips. Everything about her lured him; lips, eyes, skin, and even her soot-covered dress. “It is unseemly to be in such a state at my place of business.”
Stepping back, he made an effort to pull air back into his lungs. She was right, but he’d be damned if he cared about propriety as much as he wanted to hold her and never let her go. “I will find Bertram and follow you. It concerns me, this explosion with no explanation as to how gunpowder might have gotten into the basement.”
“But Mr. Edgebrook has mishaps all the time. I’m told he is famous for them.” She clutched her hands in front of her.
Running his index finger along her jaw, he couldn’t help the grin, probably a stupid grin, that pulled at his mouth. “Ah, yes, but you do not make those kinds of mistakes, Diana. It is for that reason, I think extra caution will be necessary even here.”
Her eyes widened. “You think they have found me? Dear God, I could have gotten everyone in the house killed. I will suspend my duties until this is resolved.”
It was hard to argue with her logic. They could all be wrong, and the accident was just that, but what if Caron had found her and thought it easier to get rid of her than risk his own exposure by recapturing her. He had been a spy in England for years. He came and went as he pleased. “I think that is a good idea. Hopefully, Michael will have an answer soon and you will be free of all of this in no time.”
“We shall see.” Diana’s doubt was not unfounded.
He had his own doubts as to the outcome, but one thing he was sure of. No harm would come to her, even if he had to hide her away in Scotland or ship her off to Virginia. The idea of her crossing an ocean away from him tightened the knot in his gut. Perhaps it was time for a more pleasant thought. “I have an invitation to deliver to you.”
Adorable as she cocked her head, she waited for more. “What invitation?”
“The Duke and Duchess of Middleton wish for you to attend their dinner party on Wednesday.”
“Is that wise?”
“You will be surrounded by close friends, many of whom are former military. I cannot think of a safer place.” It was true. It was also true that he wanted to see her dressed for a party. Did she flirt? He doubted it, but he would like to try his hand at getting her to flirt with him.
“It is probably a silly risk to take. All those people in danger so that I can get a few hours outside the walls of Everton House.” She sighed deep and long. “I will go, but at the first sign of any trouble, I’m leaving.”
He bowed, grinning on the inside at the knowledge he would see her in just a few days.
Chapter 8
Bertram had done his best to change Diana’s mind about going to the dinner party. But after a full four days of nothing but Everton House and being followed about the gardens by Bertram, Diana was ready to get out, even for a few short hours.
“This is a bad idea, miss. You would be safer to stay at home.” Bertram’s low grumble continued as he handed her up into the Everton carriage.
Honoria climbed up behind her. “All will be well, Bertram. Don’t fret so. It’s still daylight and Mr. Laurent will accompany us home.”
Even his name sent a thrill through Diana. She’d not seen him since the day of the explosion in the laboratory, and couldn’t help hoping it was him each time the door knocker sounded. However, he hadn’t visited. There was no reason for him to.
Diana had sent a note to Francis explaining that she would not be returning for a few days and would let him know when she could continue their work. He responded that he understood, and she would be missed. Such a simple note, but it had warmed her through. She had friends. It was a kind of miracle, and one she’d never expected to have again.
The carriage rolled forward. An uncomfortable shiver ran up her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
Looking out the window, she scanned the street. Nothing unusual, just a few people walking despite the chill of December. A baker pushing a cart with bread along the rutted road now frozen in place after autumn’s damp.
With a sigh, she pulled the shade down.
Bertram rode up top with the driver and two footmen stood on the back. It was overdone, but comforting.
The Middleton townhouse was brightly lit. Laughter and voices drifted out into the street. Diana would not allow her worries to ruin the evening. Honoria was right, all would be well.
All the Everton ladies had boasted about the Duchess of Middleton having been an Everton lady at one time. In their two meetings, Diana had found her kind and easy to speak with. Hopefully her disappearance from the ball hadn’t soured the opinions of her host and hostess for the night.
As soon as they entered, Jacques crossed the parlor to greet them. “I thought perhaps you had changed your mind.”
If they had met under different circumstances, they might have been lovers. Diana wished things were easier, but the truth was, the worry she felt as they rode through town was all too real. “No. I’ve been penned up in that house long enough. I’m near to losing my mind.”
Honoria sighed. “Bertram would have preferred we remain at home, and has posted footmen around the house. I’m sure all of this is more than adequate to ensure Miss St. Cloud’s safety.”
Worry twisted in Diana’s gut.
Jacques leaned in. “Is something wrong?”
Sunshine and woodsmoke, along with the scent that was uniquely Jacques’s, flooded her senses. Gracious, he made her into a fool. Shaking off the notion before she swooned, Diana said, “I thought we were being watched when we left Everton House, but I’m sure it’s just my nerves getting to me.”
He studied her a while longer, then smiled. “It would be very bold to watch a house in a busy neighborhood while still daylight. I am sure it is too much worry, with guards and orders to remain indoors.”
The Duke and Duchess of Middleton were elegant as they moved around the room speaking to each of their guests. Millicent Knowles née Edgebrook dressed boldly in a ruby gown. She might have been an Everton lady at one time and the ward of her eccentric uncle at another, but now she was every bit a duchess. Next to her tall husband dressed in black, they struck a lovely portrait.
Diana followed Honoria into the parlor with Jacques by her side. He made no attempt to hide his regard. Her skin heated, and she wished she could hide the blush. “You should not accompany me as if we were courting, monsieur.”
That wicked smile she associated with Jacques when he was happy sent delight through her. “I am going to pretend you did not say that. You and I will discuss our status in private when all of this other nonsense is at an end.”
“It will never be at an end.” Before he could respond, she turned and walked to where Millicent stood talking to a blond lady with a kind smile.
Millicent smiled. “It’s so good to see you again, Miss St. Cloud. I worried about you when we lost sight of you at the ball.”
“I’m sorry to have worried everyone, Your Grace. I tore my dress and could not return.” The lie was necessary since a woman whom she’d never met was present.
Smiling, Millicent made the introductions. “May I present my friend, Miss Diana St. Cloud? This is Elinor Rollins, the Duchess of Kerburghe.”
Shock must have registered on Diana’s face, because Elinor laughed. “Are you surprised I’m a duchess or have you met my husband?”
Shaking herself out of her rudeness, Diana regained her composure. “I apologize, Your Grace. I don’t know what I expected His Grace’s wife to be like, but you look like an angel.”
She laughed again. “Michael is the angel for putting up with me and all of the children.”
“Nonsense,” Millicent said. “He loves all of you and you know it. Michael thrives best in chaos, and that means he either needs to go to war or live with you and the brood you two have amassed.”
A lovely smile lit Elinor’s face. “I admit I love the madness too. I do insist that you dispense with calling me Your Grace. I’ll never get use to that title. I would be honored if you would call me Elinor.”
Millicent was already nodding. “I have already invited Diana to call me Millie. Just over a year ago I was an Everton lady myself, and I much prefer names to titles.”
Two duchesses had just asked her to use their familiar names. Was outcast and escaped prisoner Diana suddenly friends with duchesses? It was not possible. The world had turned topsy-turvy, and it was best to just ride it out and enjoy. “Thank you. Please call me Diana. I can’t tell you how much I enjoy working with your uncle. He’s quite brilliant.”
Staring at her wide-eyed, Millicent’s mouth hung open. “Most people think him mad.”
It would probably be best to drop the subject, but society’s ignorance of Francis Edgebrook’s abilities was untenable. “Perhaps he is a bit reckless and enthusiastic, but he’s certainly not crazy.”
Both Millicent and Elinor laughed. Millicent pulled Diana into a hug. “You need not defend him to me. I adore him and only worry he’ll truly blow himself to bits one day. It’s quite refreshing for Uncle Francis to have an advocate besides me. Now he has both Mr. Laurent and you, Diana. I shall be easier about his safety from here on.”
Guilt over not being able to help Francis over the last week tugged at Diana. “I hope in the future your uncle will allow me to help him improve a great many things in this world.”
Before Millicent could respond, the butler entered. “Dinner is served.”
Diana waited until everyone else had entered the dining room. As she was untitled and of no importance, her place was at the very last. All of Bertram’s preparations for leaving Everton House meant they had arrived after most of the guests. Diana hadn’t been able to meet anyone and she worried she would be seated next to someone she didn’t know.
“May I have the honor of escorting you in, Miss St. Cloud?” Jacques’s richly accented voice was a balm to her nerves.
She placed her hand on his coat sleeve. “That is very kind.”
“It is practical. I happen to know we are seated beside each other for dinner.” He winked.
“How would you know that?” The dining room was elegant with gleaming candelabras running the length of the table. A perfect dozen guests had been invited, as not all of London was still in town as the holiday drew near.
Holding her chair, he leaned in as she sat. “As the best friend of our host, I have certain privileges. One includes picking my dinner partners.”
All the guests were busy chatting while they settled in to their seats. “You should not say or do such things, Monsieur Laurent. Our lives will soon take different paths.”
With his head cocked, he looked young, handsome and completely irresistible. “Our life journeys will take us wherever we wish.”
She wished it was true, but sadness swamped her more quickly than she could hide. Brushing aside a tear, she swallowed down the rest. “If only I could believe that was true. However, I know every journey is controlled by some sinister puppet master who will lead me where he wishes, and I will be powerless to avoid my destiny.”
Preston Knowles, the Duke of Middleton, tapped his spoon against his crystal wineglass and made a toast. “My lovely wife and I would like to thank you all for coming. As so many of our friends were still in town at this late date, it seemed serendipitous to gather together before Christmas.” He lifted his glass. “To good friends, old and new. May the new year bring us all what we most desire.”
All the guests lifted their glasses in agreement.
Diana followed along and sipped the rich, fruity wine.
As the first course was served, Jacques leaned close enough for his coat to brush her sleeve. “I shall make sure your strings are cut, my goddess. No one shall rule you save yourself.”
It was a wonderful, impossible notion that not even Jacques could truly believe, but Diana favored him with a smile and allowed the idea to warm her soul through dinner.
Nothing could have been lovelier than a handsome gentleman paying her attention at a fine dinner where she was treated with kindness and respect. She pinched herself several times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Though her dreams had never been so wonderful. Even in her darkest days, the best she had hoped for was to not fear for her life and the lives of those she loved. Since everyone she loved had died, part of her problem was horribly solved.
“What are you thinking that has put that frown upon those lovely lips, Diana?”
She took a sip of her white soup to buy time to formulate an answer. “I was contemplating how much life can change with the least bit of notice.”
He had removed his gloves for the meal, so when he took hold of her hand where it rested in her lap, a shock of erotic sensations shot through her entire body. “Sometimes those changes are for the better.”
So much warmth spread through her, she questioned the idea that perhaps her problems had merely shifted and not gone away at all. “I know, Jacques.”
“I wonder if you do.” He turned his attention to his own soup.
When he released her hand, a hollowness settled inside her, more noticeable than before. Perhaps because she had not missed being touched until she had been touched by him.
* * * *
Diana enjoyed the entire evening, but had looked forward to the carriage ride home with Jacques. Despite Honoria’s presence, she knew it would be a treat to spend time close to him without a crowd of people. It might be scandalous, but she wished for more evenings like the one when he rescued her from the garden. Just to be near him, held by him, was a kind of heaven she’d never thought possible in her life.
Jacques handed both ladies up before sitting across from them. “Lady Chervil, did you enjoy the party?”
Patting her hair into place, Honoria grinned. “I always enjoy a good party. I am blessed with many good friends who don’t mind inviting an old lady to their events. It was very convenient that I could also act as Miss St. Cloud’s chaperon tonight.”
“I, for one, am most grateful to spend time with both you and Miss St. Cloud.”
Bertram poked his head in the window. “We’re ready to go. I haven’t seen anything unusual.”
“Very good,” Jacques said.
A sliver of doubt curled into Diana’s heart. It was just foolishness, but she rubbed a shiver from her arms.
The carriage rolled down the street. Diana watched outside, but the night was too dark to see much more than a few candles burning inside random homes. No moon or stars cut through the clouds that looked about to dump snow on them. As she thought it, the first flake flurried through the carriage window.
Honoria pulled her cloak close. “I hope it does not snow too hard before we get to Everton House.”
Someone outside hollered a curse.
The carriage jerked forward.
More yelling as the horses broke into a run.
Jacques’s eyes shone bright as he pulled Diana and Honoria to the floor of the carriage. “Stay down. We must be under attack.”
They turned a corner and Diana toppled on her side. She couldn’t help the short scream of surprise.
A gun’s report rent the air.
A sudden stop tipped the carriage. Jacques threw himself against the other wall and kept them upright. When the rocking stopped, he drew a gun from under the seat. “Stay here, ladies.”
Jacques reached for the door just as the barrel of a pistol appeared through the window and the end touched the side of Diana’s head.
Her heart, which had been pounding, stopped and lodged itself in her throat.
Victor Caron said, “You may put the weapon down, Laurent, or I shall be forced to harm Miss MacLeod, and neither of us want that.”
With a French curse, Jacques put the gun on the floor.
Something dark jutted through the opposite window and hit Jacques on the back of the head.
He crumpled to the floor.
Diana screamed and knelt next to him. She felt the back of his head, and the sticky, warm blood sent terror through her. His even breathing was the only thing keeping her sane in the eruption of madness.
Hand over her mouth, Honoria watched with wide, terrified eyes.
“Now, Diana, you have been very bad, but if you come quietly and finish your job, all will be well.” Victor’s silky voice nauseated her. His French accent lifted with arrogance and none of the joy that hearing Jacques speak gave her.
“I’m not going to help you.”
He pointed the gun at Honoria. “Laurent will likely die because of you. You do not want another death on your hands. If you say that again, I will kill the old woman.”
The sweetest, almost bored sigh pushed from Honoria’s lips. “That would be a shame. I’m terribly rich, you know. If I die now, no one will benefit from three very profitable marriages.”
“What are you blathering about?” Victor tore open the door. His eyes had narrowed, but he was listening.
“Oh yes, I have more money than I’ll ever be able to spend. I would think you quite stupid to kill me before you extorted some of it. What kind of criminals are you?” She examined her gloved hands.
Victor grabbed Honoria’s arm and pulled her down to the street. “I’m not a criminal. I’m a patriot.”
A Lady's Past Page 10
