Elizabeth Boyle (106 page)

“I thought we could slip away now, before that devil Cottwell spies you.” He glanced over her shoulder, back into the room beyond. “What were you thinking, wearing that outlandish costume? Don’t you remember what we agreed on—something you could climb in?” He shrugged and turned to consider the ledge beneath them, as well as the latticework that supported the climbing vines edging up the side of the stone house. “If you were anyone else, I’d fear you’d break your neck going down this ledge, but you know best what you can manage, and if you think you can in that gown, then …”

His words traded off as he turned back to her.

In the time he’d spent blithely continuing as if they truly had a future together, she’d retrieved her dagger and now pressed it to his throat.

Beneath his pirate’s mask his eyes narrowed. “What mischief is this, Reenie? We haven’t time to waste.”

“You haven’t any time left, you double-dealing bastard,” she said, rearing back with the knife.

Julien reacted without even thinking. He sidestepped her attack and caught her arm just above the fist. Using her momentum, he swung her around so now her own dagger rested against her neck.

Beneath the steel he could see her pulse fluttering wildly. Her eyes were just as untamed, feral almost, like those of a rabid animal, unseeing and uncaring for anything.

“Kill me, Julien,” she spat out. “Kill me now. For I swear if you let me go, I will not stop until I see you take your last breath.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “Reenie, tell me what is wrong.”

“You know bloody well what is wrong! Did you think I wouldn’t find out about Ethan? Or my aunt? How could you?” She glared up at him. “If you’ve harmed either of them, I’ll not give you any measure of mercy.”

“I can see that,” he said, trying to make sense of her wild accusations. “Now, what is this of Ethan and your aunt? Has something happened to them?”

She made a rude noise in the back of her throat. “As if you don’t know. I’ll not listen to your lies anymore. Tell me they are safe, then finish me off, if that is what you mean to do.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Reenie,” he said, pulling back the knife and pushing her across the balcony, out of range and with enough distance between them that he could watch her every move. “Dammit, I love you. Or didn’t last night prove anything?”

“It proved I’m a bigger fool than I was eight years ago.” Her unbound hair fell about her shoulders in a wild disarray. For a moment he thought himself faced not with the noble leader of ancient Egypt, but of one of England’s ancient warrior queens. As wild and untamed as the barbarians they’d led.

Something had obviously gone terribly wrong, something to do with Ethan and her aunt, and now she blamed him. He’d lost the trust he’d so carefully rebuilt between them, but he wasn’t about to give up just yet.

He took a deep breath and held out the dagger, pointing the hilt toward her. “Take this. And then tell me what I have supposedly done.”

She regarded him warily, then snatched the blade out of his hand. “While you may have been able to kidnap Ethan and my aunt, your henchmen didn’t notice the housekeeper. She told me everything. How you stole my son away—”

He held up his hand to stave off any further accusations. “I kidnapped Ethan?”

“Yes. Don’t try and deny it.”

“Well, I will. I didn’t do it. We agreed to keep Ethan here in England. If what you say is true, we have to find out who’s stolen our son.”

“I don’t need to look any further than right here.”

Julien ignored the dagger in her hand and stalked across the balcony He caught her by the shoulders and gave her a good shake. “Listen to me, Reenie. I didn’t do this. If it is true, we have to find Ethan and find him fast. Who could have done this? Who else knows about us? Knows about Ethan?”

“No one,” she said, fighting off his grasp. She edged past him. “No one but you.”

“Someone does. Someone who means to use him against us.”

She swiped at the tendrils of dark hair falling over her face. “There is no
us
. Why do you persist in these falsehoods? I don’t believe you any longer. You took my son, and I want him back.”

She once again flashed her dagger dangerously between them.

“Why would I be here if I took Ethan? If I’d had any inclination to take my son, I certainly wouldn’t be here—I’d be halfway to the coast by now.”

He could see the questions fluttering behind her gaze, as if she, too, had asked herself the same things. But she was beyond making sense; her anger from the past clouding her judgment. Just then a movement over her shoulder caught his eye.

Someone was approaching the balcony, cutting a sharp course through the costumed crowd like a frigate under full sail.

The Lord Admiral.

Oh, perfect, Julien thought to himself. With Maureen going off half-cocked, he hadn’t enough time to make her see the sense of his words before she’d have a noose around his neck, courtesy of Peter Cottwell.

There was only one thing to do, and it was his last choice. Flee. He’d have little chance of finding a way out of this tangle if he were locked up in an Admiralty cell.

Or, worse, swinging from a hangman’s noose at Tyburn.

“Reenie, listen to me. Believe me. I didn’t do this. Someone else did. We have to find Ethan and your aunt, but there isn’t much time.” He pushed aside the dagger and pulled her close. Without a second thought he kissed her, hard and thoroughly, hoping his passion would convince her of what his words seemed unable to do.

She fought him like a wildcat, and when she got away she wiped her mouth as if she’d just swallowed poison.

“I’m going to see your men free and the
Retribution
set adrift, just as I promised you. Then I am going to do my damnedest to find our son. If you come to your senses, meet me after midnight at Vauxhall Gardens. Down at the docks. I’ll be there on my yacht.”

The Lord Admiral was now steps from the balcony door, and his hawkish gaze locked with Julien’s.

The two men stared at each other, and then the recognition flickered between them.

“De Ryes,” the Lord Admiral mouthed, then he grabbed the door to the balcony, rattling the locked portal with all his strength.

His actions diverted Maureen, and she turned to aid the man in opening the door.

Julien saluted him over his wife’s shoulder and then swung over the edge of the balcony. He dropped into the latticework and was down the two stories before the Lord Admiral could wrench the locked door open.

“I love you, Reenie,” he called up to her as his feet hit the stone path below. From above she stared down at him, obviously furious at his escape. “Believe me. It is all you have left.” And with that, he loped through the back garden and fled into the night.

“What took you so long?” Maureen asked, whirling around from the edge of the stonework to face the Lord Admiral. “He’s gotten away!”

She threw her leg over the balcony, fully intending to follow the blackguard, but the Lord Admiral moved too fast.

He caught her by the arm and held her fast. “De Ryes? That was de Ryes?” he asked, his eyes glittering with excitement.

Shaking off his hold, she nodded. “Yes, Julien D’Artiers is your pirate. But if you haven’t noticed, he is getting away.”

She went to make her escape yet again, but the Lord Admiral grabbed her arm again.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“After him,” she said, this time unsuccessful in her attempt to free herself.

“Hardly. This is no longer your concern.”

“Like hell,” she said. “I’ll see him hang, and no one is going to stop me.”

“Perhaps if you’d thought to tell me this sooner, he would be dead by now.” The Lord Admiral studied her. “You knew. You’ve known since that night at Almack’s who de Ryes was, yet you kept your mouth shut. It seems to me if you truly wanted your husband dead, you would have said something that night. Why, you’ve been in league with him this entire time.”

Furious at this turn of events, she blurted out before she could stop herself, “I’m not in league with him. I’ve been trying to gain enough proof so that he won’t slip away. He’s too well-connected with the Traherns and the Westons not to find a way out of this. But you can stop him now, for he’ll be at Vauxhall Gardens, near the docks, at midnight. He’ll be carrying the proof with him, and nothing will stop you from seeing him hang, not even his high-blown relations.”

Even as she made her confession, she realized her error.

The man’s eyes glittered dangerously. “You’re right about that, you little slut. I’ll see de Ryes hang. And you right beside him.”

“Me? I’ll not hang. We have a deal,” she shot back. “De Ryes for my life and the lives of my men.”

“An honorable agreement you willfully voided when you withheld evidence from His Majesty’s Navy.”

Julien’s warnings about the Lord Admiral came back to haunt her.

It won’t prick his conscience to betray you any more than it did when he consigned your father to life on a prison hulk.

Suddenly, the chill of the night invaded her very soul.

“Hardly,” she shot back. “He’s been threatening me this entire time. I didn’t know what to do. He said he’d see my throat slit, that not even you could protect me.”

She spotted a glint of metal lying on the floor. She reached down and plucked up her dagger, holding it gingerly as if she’d never touched such a dastardly weapon before. “As you can see he tried to finish me off this very night, but the coward fled when he saw you.

“Do you really think me a fool?” the Lord Admiral sneered. “I saw him kiss you. No, Maureen Hawthorne de Ryes, you’ll hang on the morrow beside your husband. Hang as you rightly should. I’ll remove all traces of you, as I did your father.”

Just then Lord Hawksbury poked his head through the doorway. “Miss Fenwick, there you are. Our next dance is just about to begin, and I thought to steal you away before my wicked uncle convinced you otherwise.”

Maureen swung her hand behind her back to conceal her dagger. There was no use in dragging Julien s nephew into this havey-cavey business.

The young man stepped outside and looked around. “Where is my uncle?”

But then again, she thought, perhaps he could be useful.

Maureen shrugged her shoulders. “Gone. The cad left me out here alone, and the door latched as he left. Thankfully, the Lord Admiral came to my rescue.” She smiled coyly at the earl, whose title and family connections surely outranked even the Lord Admiral’s social standing.

“Yes, that’s it,” the Lord Admiral said, finally entering the conversation. “Poor Miss Fenwick is quite overtaken by her experience; I was just going to see her home.” With that he took Maureen’s arm and started to lead her away.

“My dear Lord Admiral,” she said as sweetly as she could when all she wanted to do was drive her dagger into his back. “As I was saying, that is entirely unnecessary. I feel more than able to continue my evening. Besides, I would hate to disappoint Lord Hawksbury.”

Lord Hawksbury immediately stepped up to the bait. “She looks well enough, sir. Kind of you to offer, but this task belongs to someone who has a vested interest in the lady’s welfare.”

Before the older man could protest, Lord Hawksbury took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

The earl smiled as if nothing were amiss, but when they were well away from the Lord Admiral, separated by a half dozen or more dancing couples, he said in a voice edged with concern, “What happened to my uncle?”

“As I said, he left.”

Lord Hawksbury frowned at her. “I’ve been watching the door ever since you two went out there, just as he asked me to. He never reentered the ballroom.”

Maureen pursed her lips.

“I know more than you think,” he said, as if he sensed the questions behind her mask. “Enough to get me hanged. I don’t agree with my uncle’s politics, but he’s family. I’ll not see his fool neck stretched, even if it does put me in a bit of a quandary from time to time.”

“You know, my lord?” she whispered.

At this he grinned. “Stop that ‘my lord’ business. You should call me Charles, like a good aunt.”

Her eyes must have reflected her shock.

“Oh, yes, I know all that as well. It was quite disappointing to find out that you were, shall we say, otherwise engaged, but I can’t fault my uncle’s taste in wives. Welcome to the family, Aunt Maureen.” He whirled her across the floor, nodding every once in a while to a friend.

She shook her head, trying to make sense of this.

“What I don’t understand is why you didn’t go with him. He said you both would be leaving tonight. What happened, did that old goat catch up with you before you had a chance to get down the wall?”

“I didn’t want to go.”

“I can see why. I told Uncle Julien it was foolhardy to think a lady—even one with your illustrious background—could navigate that wall. But he swore you could climb it in your sleep.”

“No, it wasn’t the wall. I didn’t want to go with him because he betrayed me.”

“Uncle Julien?” Charles shook his head. “Never. He loves you. I know. I tried to convince him to let you stay here in London. But he wouldn’t have it. Said you two had been apart too long.”

“Well, he lied to you as well.”

At this the young man took affront, his shoulders and eyebrows ruffling with the dishonor of hearing a family member being called a liar. “I don’t believe you.”

“He stole something of mine earlier today. Something I value more than life itself.”

Charles shook his head and lowered his voice as he said, “I was with him today. The only thing we stole were ten barrels of rum and some fireworks. I hardly call such trifles betrayal of one’s wife.”

“Rum and fireworks?” she said. “I’m talking about my son. He kidnapped my son this afternoon.”

“Today? I hardly think so. I was with him the entire day. He needed help and I provided it—Wait a minute, did you just say ‘son’?”

She nodded. “Ethan. He’s my son.”

Charles shook his head. “And Julien’s as well, am I to assume?”

“Yes.”

He whistled low. “But you said he stole Ethan? Today?”