Blackhaven Brides (Books 5–8)

by Lancaster, Mary

  He raised his hands to her waist to lift her down, and she did not stop him. His grip was strong and sure without being rough. She would have thought him a gentle man, had she not been aware of his profession.

  Her feet landed lightly on the ground between him and the mare, who snuffled and shifted restlessly at her back. His hands remained lightly on her waist as he gazed down at her.

  “There is something about you, Anna Gaunt. You make me forget why I’m here. Why you are. You do not even seem to care that I am a gutter rat who got rich on Bonaparte’s back. Why do you not care?”

  She shrugged. “I have learned to take people as they are, not how they are regarded by the world because of who their father and grandfather were.”

  “That is a very revolutionary sentiment for a daughter of one of the oldest noble families in Europe.”

  She shrugged. “Their noble birth didn’t stop most of them from being total swine.”

  “Like Tamar?”

  She laughed. “Tamar is different. He and Christianne. The rest of us are vile.”

  His brow contracted and she pulled away, looping the reins over Chessy’s head to lead her.

  “Have you killed your enemy yet?” she asked lightly.

  “No. I want to know why he’s here first.”

  “I thought he was looking for you.”

  “Then he was looking for me before I escaped. Which is not impossible, only why has he done nothing about finding me?”

  “Perhaps he has legions of servants to do it for him.”

  “Perhaps,” he allowed. “Or perhaps something else is happening in Blackhaven.”

  “I gather something is always happening in Blackhaven,” Anna replied, “though usually nothing more important than smuggling and illegal gambling.”

  “Do you know Captain Alban?”

  She blinked. “No, I’ve never met him. But Tamar and Serena know him. Tamar calls him a friend.”

  “Then he has some connection to Blackhaven?”

  “Well, yes. Alban isn’t his surname. Lamont is. His family own the Roseley estate near…” She paused, remembering the bustle and the overheard conversation on her ride. “Is Alban back?”

  “No, but he left someone here last night.”

  “Another Frenchman?” she asked wryly.

  “No, a woman, who sounds as English as you do.”

  “You sound as English as I do,” Anna retorted.

  “Setting that aside, she is perhaps a few years older than you, small and pretty in an unusual kind of way, wearing spectacles.”

  “Oh, that will be his wife, who was Lady Arabella Niven. I am sure she is not connected to your French spies!”

  “Then why did she come in secret?”

  “To avoid Blackhaven society?” Anna suggested. “I hear she is reclusive by nature.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I could take Serena and go and call on her.”

  “But would you tell me what you discovered?”

  “That would depend on what it was. But if it helps, Serena and Tamar both like her.”

  “They also appear to like me,” he said wryly.

  She took a breath for courage. “Louis.” She took his gloved hand, gazing up at him seriously. A flicker of surprise showed in his veiled eyes and vanished. “You are involving yourself with events and people that should not concern you. You are an enemy French…officer on British soil. You have to seek protection.”

  “How would I do that?” he asked steadily.

  “Negotiate for your freedom. With information. Give up this other Frenchman to them to show your good will.”

  “And let myself be taken along with him?”

  “No.” She had thought this all through already. Letting her grip on his hand tighten, she said, “I will go to Major Doverton for you. Or I’ll go through my brother-in-law, Henry Harcourt, if you prefer. Give me something, any little piece of information to impress them, and then we’ll negotiate your freedom for the spy.”

  His steady eyes never blinked. “You would be admitting to helping me.”

  “I would have to say you had told me from the outset that you wished to seek asylum with us.”

  He raised his hand and hers to his cheek. “Oh, Anna, you are undoubtedly a temptation few men could resist.”

  Her lips twisted. “Except you.”

  “Oh no, I would succumb in an instant. Except…”

  “Except what?” she asked impatiently.

  “Except I don’t want to seek asylum with you. I am French.”

  She threw his hand from her. “Then go home to those who will kill you.”

  She strode away, forcing the surprised mare to trot behind her.

  “Perhaps I would rather die with you,” he said, keeping pace easily beside her.

  “Damn you, do you have to die at all?”

  “Not today.”

  “At least think about what I have said,” she pleaded. She swallowed. “I don’t want you to die.” The truth was terrifying in her own ears. She should not care if he lived or died. She never had before, about anyone, except Christianne. And Rupert. Maybe Serena now. But the point was, Louis was her enemy, her task that she had to complete. And she would, whatever it cost her.

  His gloved fingers touched her cheek in a caress that brought both sweetness and pain. “I’ll find a way,” he promised. “I always do. But I will think about what you said.”

  She smiled, leaning her cheek into his hand. “Tell me about your home, Louis.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was after eleven o’clock before Anna returned to the castle, happy and triumphant over the victory she could sense was very close now. At least, she assumed that was the reason for her elation. He might have some strange effect upon her, but she was not foolish enough to let that cloud her judgement or interfere with her task.

  And she saw no sense in not using the information she was given. Encountering Serena “by accident” as she finished conferring with the housekeeper, Anna threw herself into a chair and enthused about her delightful ride in the direction of Roseley, and casually mentioned that some member of the family had apparently arrived there to stay while the lady of the house was absent.

  “Oh, it will be Alban, probably,” Serena said carelessly. “Lady Roseley, his sister-in-law, is in London with her children. He looks after the place for her, I believe.”

  Anna allowed herself to look impressed. “The famous Captain Alban?”

  After that, it was quite easy to manipulate Serena into riding over there to call. “Or we could wait until tomorrow,” Serena said doubtfully, “when Rupert might come with us. He is poring over books and plans sent up from Tamar Abbey and deciding what next to set in motion. I don’t like to disturb him.”

  For the first time, it struck Anna that her brother might actually manage to restore their old home into something habitable, and the land into something profitable, something decent for their people to live on. Which would be a great thing, something she never imagined could happen.

  But it would be Serena’s home, not Anna’s. Anna was not destined to be the lady of any manor. Or any home.

  “Oh, no,” Anna agreed. “He has taken on a massive task, and of course we must not try to drag him away. But we don’t need him to go out riding, do we?”

  Serena, whom she already knew to be surprisingly good company, was a fun and interesting companion on their ride. She pointed out the best views and landmarks and told amusing tales of the trouble she had got into in various places with her older sister and brother. But more than that, she took uninhibited joy in her surroundings. She was one of those rare people who loved life and somehow spread her enthusiasm to everyone she touched. Even the cynical Anna.

  “I can see why Rupert married you,” Anna said once.

  Serena glanced at her. “Do you mind that he did?”

  Anna could have turned that one off easily enough, but she chose to tell the truth. “I thought I might. But I don’t. I’m g
lad. And not just because you make it possible for him to restore the estate. It’s good to see him happy. And full of purpose.”

  Serena held her gaze. “And what of you, Anna? Tamar could give you a dowry now. It might not be anything great considering your rank, but it makes a good marriage likelier.”

  Anna curled her lip. “Why would I wish to marry?”

  “For a home and children. And happiness, such as I have found with your brother.”

  Anna looked away. “I’m not like you. These things don’t interest me.”

  “And Sir Lytton?” Serena prodded. “Does he not interest you?”

  Anna smiled. “Yes,” she admitted. “But not in the way you are imagining. He could be a friend.” For a moment, she thought Serena might probe further, and in a direction, Anna had no intention of going. She had a feeling Serena knew more of her history than she was comfortable with. For, of course, Rupert would have told her his own part in it. He could only recently have shaken off the “other” Rivers, the extortioner he had caricatured.

  But Serena said only, “This is Roseley land, now. The house is just ahead.”

  There was a lot of activity around the house and grounds. Everything was being cleaned and repaired, which was only natural if a member of the family had turned up unexpectedly. Everyone bowed and tugged their forelock to Lady Serena, whom they obviously recognized. A boy ran up to take both their horses while a rather villainous looking man sloped inside the house through the front door.

  “Don’t be alarmed,” Serena said with a hint of amusement. “That will be one of Alban’s seamen.”

  Anna, who had already presumed this, and wasn’t remotely alarmed, merely nodded and smiled.

  They were met at the door by a much more respectable footman, who bowed them into a sunny front parlor. Here, a slightly vague, bespectacled young lady came toward them with her hand held out.

  “Lady Tamar, how unexpected,” she murmured. “And how pleasant to see you again.”

  “I hope we haven’t come at a bad time,” Serena said, her easy manner contrasting with the slightly awkward shyness of her hostess. “We heard a rumor you were here and just had to call in during our ride. Forgive me, I haven’t yet introduced you! This is Lady Anna Gaunt, Tamar’s sister. Anna, Mrs. Lamont, whom we all still call Lady Arabella because her husband has too many other names!”

  Lady Arabella shook hands most civilly, rang for tea, and invited her unexpected guests to sit.

  “How did you know I was here?” Lady Arabella asked with surprising directness.

  “We didn’t,” Serena admitted. “It was a mere rumor, but I am very glad to find you here.”

  “And I’m very glad you did,” Lady Arabella said. “Only…you will not tell anyone else, will you?”

  “Not if you don’t wish us to,” Serena said at once. “Forgive me, but is everything well?”

  Their hostess smiled in a way that raised her pretty face to beauty. “Oh, very well indeed. And I am delighted to see you. It’s just that I came alone because that is how I particularly wish to be.” She blushed. “I am enceinte and have been feeling a trifle too sick for seafaring. Alban landed me here, where I can be both useful and quiet!”

  “Oh, how wonderful,” Serena said warmly. “I am so glad for you. We shall say nothing to anyone, and leave you be unless you send for me—which I hope you will if you need anything at all.”

  Anna, on the other hand, felt somewhat deflated by this news. There appeared to be no mystery here. The woman had landed at night merely to avoid visitors because she was suffering in the early stages of pregnancy. Of course, she might have been more comfortable in her own home which Anna knew to be in Scotland, or with her own family.

  In the room above, the sounds of moving furniture and cleaning could be heard. The inside of the house was clearly getting the same treatment as the outside. A clean and tidy house, would, no doubt, make Lady Arabella more comfortable in the end. Only, it did not seem very restful.

  And Lady Arabella herself, while certainly shy and a little vague, was far from being a stupid woman. Or the kind who turned households upside down unnecessarily. Was she mixed up with foreign spies? Anna doubted it, though the husband was, perhaps, a different matter. Was she up to something? Possibly, though Anna could not imagine what.

  They did not stay long, since the lady had already told them of her desire for solitude. And in any case, it was a long ride home.

  *

  At dinner that night, Tamar was full of enthusiasm, regaling them with his plans for the abbey lands. “It will take years of course. But we can make a start immediately and do more every year. If we keep out of the way, they’ll get the work on the house done faster, too, so I was thinking we could just stay here after all, perhaps until early spring? And then we can go down and be comfortable while you order the inside of the house to your liking.”

  “I admit I am dying to see it,” Serena admitted warmly.

  Tamar cocked one eyebrow at Anna. “What about you? Will you stay here for Christmas? Or go back to Christianne? Go to the abbey if you’d rather.”

  “I’ll probably go back to Christianne’s,” she said easily, “if the weather permits.”

  It was fortunate and somewhat touching that Serena tried to persuade her to stay at the castle over Christmas at least. For she wasn’t quite sure how long her current task and its aftermath would take. She found she was in no desire to leave. Or to break off all ties with Louis, whatever she persuaded him to say and do. But she would not think of the future, only the present.

  “Oh, do you care to have dinner at the hotel tomorrow evening?” Tamar said suddenly, fishing a crumpled note from his pocket. “Lewis invited us to dine with him.”

  *

  In the end, Anna didn’t have to wait for the next evening before she met Louis again. She encountered him in the woods that morning while walking alone, as she had more or less trained the household to expect of her. She was sure Mrs. Gaskell threw up her hands in frustration at such unladylike behavior, but by this time, they were all used to Tamar’s eccentricities, so her own, she hoped, were all the more forgivable.

  It was no part of her plan to fall out with her hosts, their servants, or their neighbors. In fact, considering why she was there, she felt remark­ably…comfortable.

  The weather had turned much colder in the last couple of days, though the trees shielded her from the worst of the icy wind. As she walked, she was aware she would be disappointed if Louis did not come.

  This time, he did not surprise her. She knew, as soon as she heard the snap of a twig close by, that it was he, and she was already smiling by the time he fell into step beside her.

  “I cannot make up my mind,” he said, without any greeting, “whether you look lovelier in sedate morning dress, silken evening gowns, or this delightfully mysterious ensemble from another age.”

  “What a kind way to describe my comfortable old riding habit,” she said dryly. “And I suspect I looked best of all when masked!”

  “That, too, had a definite charm.”

  “Why are we discussing my appearance?”

  “Perhaps I hope to flatter you into doing me a service.”

  “What?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Remove the stitches from my back.”

  She frowned. “If you would just do as I ask, we could safely ask a physician to perform the task. He would hurt you less, for one thing.”

  “That is by no means certain. Will you do it?”

  She sighed. “Of course, I will. But I have no scissors with me, no—” She broke off as he produced a pair. “Sit,” she said resignedly, and he took off his greatcoat and coat before sitting down on the large trunk of a fallen tree and removing his shirt. Even knowing what she had to do, a secret thrill ran through her at the sight of his broad, naked back.

  She knelt behind him and began to talk nonsense to distract him while she worked. Although he must have been freezing cold, he was very stoical
, letting out no more than the odd hiss of pain when it took him by surprise. Taking the ointment from her pocket, she smeared some more along the red-ridged seam of his wound, then placed a clean dressing over it and began to wrap the bandage around him.

  He caught her wrist. “I can do that.”

  “So can I,” she said steadily, and after a moment, he released her. She was getting too used to the delicious tingles caused by his touch. She found herself looking forward to them, wallowing in them, remembering them at night before she went to sleep. She wished she could speak to Christianne about it, about what it meant.

  It may have been the cold or simple pain that caused his shivering as she helped him back into his shirt.

  “The sun has gone,” she murmured, casting a quick glance at the sky as she rose to her feet. “I think that is the end of the fine weather. I hear predictions of rain and wind, and snow to come before long.”

  “So do I.” He struggled into his coat, then stood. He was a little white, but otherwise seemed no worse for her ministrations. “So,” he continued, picking up the great coat, “what do you think is going on at Roseley?”

  She frowned, pausing as she pulled on her gloves. “How do you know I was there?”

  “I knew you would go. What did you find?”

  “Lady Arabella, Captain Alban’s wife. She is enceinte and spending some time there to be quiet and peaceful, instead of voyaging with her husband.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “Yes.” Anna hesitated. “Although she is conducting a major house cleaning. There may be more than she says going on, but it needn’t be anything to do with you.”

  “I know.”

  “And your Frenchman?”

  “I found a letter,” Louis admitted. “It’s in code, unsigned. But I know who it is from.”

  “Who?”

  “Fouché.”

  Her eyes widened. Fouché had been the French minister of police before Bonaparte had dismissed him. But rumor said the emperor still sought his advice. “Can you prove that?” she asked eagerly.

  “Not without the code, and even then, it could as easily have been written to me or anyone else. I have copied it to see if I can make sense of it. But it shows he is here at Fouché’s command, not because he’s gone into hiding before he falls with Napoleon.”