Barely a Lady (23 page)

“Oh,” Diccan added. “One more thing. You must be willing to impersonate a bargeman’s wife.”

Olivia couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, why not? I have certainly impersonated worse things.”

“Capital. Then we are on. You and Gracechurch will be gone by morning.”

Olivia froze. “Jack and I? No. Someone else should go with him.”

And for the first time, she saw compassion in Diccan Hilliard’s eyes. “I’m afraid not, ma’am. It will take at least seven days for you to reach London, and to separate you for that long would, I fear, be detrimental to the cause.”

She could only stare at him, appalled. “You said it would be best for us to travel separately.”

“For
Kate
to travel separately. I had always intended you to travel with your husband. I’m afraid you are his best chance for recovering his memory.”

She shook her head. “I’m not so sure it would do him any good to stay with me and remember.”

“I don’t think we have a choice,” she heard behind her.

Olivia whipped around to see Jack standing in the doorway. He seemed to look larger, stronger, clad in clothes that reminded her so much of those long-ago days bringing in the harvest. He was looking on her with something akin to regret, and she knew he’d heard her.

Before she could correct him, he looked past her. “Hallo, Hilliard,” he greeted his friend, and strode in.

Everyone in the room froze. What would he remember? Olivia battled an insane urge to drag him back out of the room before it occurred to him that Diccan had witnessed that fatal duel with Tristram.

For Diccan’s part, he rose calmly to his feet, lifting his quizzing glass for a good perusal. “Look as if you’d been in a prime mill, old son.”

Jack smiled and offered his hand. “It seems I have. Anything you can tell me about it?”

Diccan took Jack’s hand in a surprisingly strong grip. “With the resources left behind here, I couldn’t tell you what Wellington had been up to. It’s a sore trial, to be sure.”

Jack cast a quick look to Olivia, and she saw that he wasn’t happy. “Besides, your hostesses would have your liver and lights if you told me.”

Diccan’s smile was telling. “Kate’s terrifying enough. The four of them together positively put me in a quake. But with a bit of help, we should be able to collect some resources once you return to home soil.”

“You don’t think I should stay where I was found?”

“Too much chaos. Far too much opportunity to do you mischief before you can find your answers.”

“Do
you
have any idea what this is all about?”

Diccan’s expression softened a bit. “Afraid not. And, yes, before you ask, Kate,” he informed his cousin, “I did do a bit of discreet asking around. Came up empty.”

Jack nodded. “Then fill me in on your plan.”

The two of them walked over to the drinks table as if the women had suddenly disappeared. Olivia saw Lady Kate bristle, but she for one was thankful. She was relieved to have no demands made on her right now. She was still trying to come to grips with the idea of spending seven days with Jack. Seven days alone, bound by danger and isolation. Seven days with no one to rely on but each other.

Swamped by dread, she closed her eyes. It would be too much; she knew it. She knew, too, that Mr. Hilliard had left her no choice. And she still couldn’t tell Jack the truth about their marriage.

And then, as if she’d heard Olivia’s internal monologue, Lady Kate leaned over. “It might just be perfect, Olivia.”

Olivia startled, seeing both the duchess and Lady Bea watching her very closely. “Pardon?”

Lady Kate took a quick look toward Jack, but he was involved with Diccan’s explanations. “He loves you, Olivia,” she whispered. “Spend your time together reminding him of how much.”

Olivia thought she’d survived quite enough shocks in her lifetime already. Somehow the insidious logic of Lady Kate’s suggestion stunned her to her toes. Not because it was so outrageous, but because she was suddenly so tempted by it, a serpent’s whisper in a primeval garden.

“No. I can’t.”

“Stuff,” Lady Bea huffed, although Olivia had no idea to whom she was responding. Then Bea’s gaze rose, and Olivia was caught by the purpose in the old woman’s gray eyes. “Yoicks and away,” the lady said quite clearly.

Olivia should have laughed. Lady Bea had just given her the cry for the sighting of the fox. But the purpose in those wise old eyes sent Olivia’s pulse skittering. How could these women know what it would cost her to take such a chance? How could they possibly encourage her to do something so foolish?

Because they knew how much she wanted to.

“This is a different Jack,” Lady Kate insisted. “This Jack will understand.”

“I can’t take that chance,” was all she could say, because she couldn’t tell them why. She couldn’t even think it.

She’d won and lost Jack once. If it happened again, the consequences would be immeasurably worse. Unthinkably worse.

She never got the chance to speak. Suddenly, Finney was standing in the doorway, the picture of a proper butler.

“Major Kit Braxton,” he announced.

Grace’s handsome friend stepped through the doorway, his expression a bit guarded. He saw Grace, though, and began to smile.

He’d taken no more than four or five steps into the room when suddenly he came to a shuddering halt, his attention no longer on his friend. For a moment, he just gaped. Then he laughed, striding right past Grace to where Jack and Diccan were sharing a drink.

“By God, Gracechurch,” he said with a relieved laugh. “What are you doing here? Don’t you know that we’ve been looking for you?”

Chapter 17

O
livia found herself on her feet. “What do you mean, you’ve been looking for him?”

Over by the wall, Jack was staring at the newcomer. “Do I know you?”

“Of course you do, you gudgeon!” the young man said with a grin. “I was supposed to collect you. Leave it to you to be hiding out with four beautiful women.”

By now everyone was on their feet. Diccan once again had his quizzing glass up, but Braxton paid no heed. He was too intent on shaking Jack’s hand.

“But why were you looking for him?” Olivia asked.

She had just begun to hope he might have the answers they needed. But when he heard the question, Braxton turned to her as if suddenly realizing she was there. He opened his mouth and shut it again, turning astonished eyes back to Jack.

“Good Lord,” he said, as if trying to take it in. “Don’t you recognize me?”

“No, I don’t.” Jack looked suddenly wary, as if expecting attack. “Can you tell me where I’ve been?”

Confused, Braxton looked around the room, ending with Diccan.

“Morning, Braxton,” Diccan greeted him with a perfect bow. “I assume you’ve been looking for our wayward friend here.”

“Well, yes.” He frowned at Jack. “I don’t understand.”

“Jack suffered a head injury. His memory was affected. Do you know where he’s been?”

Olivia thought he might have swallowed.

“Uh, no,” he finally said, suddenly sounding much less sanguine. “Not really.”

“Then why were you looking for me?” Jack demanded.

“Why don’t we all sit?” Lady Kate offered smoothly. “I’ll ring for more refreshments.”

“Comin’ right up, Y’r Grace,” Finney called from the doorway.

Lady Kate didn’t acknowledge his impudence by so much as a look. She simply gestured to the gentlemen to resume their seats. Braxton took a chair by Grace, and Jack took one next to Olivia.

“Is this what you wanted me for, Grace?” Braxton was asking as he took his own seat. “Jack?”

“Well,” she hedged. “Yes and no. The earl needs your help, but we had no idea you were already looking forhim.”

“Why
were
you looking for him?” Olivia repeated, unhappy with the suspicion that Braxton was stalling fortime.

His expression didn’t help. He had such a handsome, open face. Why did she think she saw calculation going on behind his soft blue eyes? Why did she think he was going to lie? Maybe because he seemed unable to look at her.

“Why, his family has been trying to find him, of course,” he said. “He’s been abroad a while, and he was needed at home.”

“And why would you be the one searching?”

He looked around, as if surprised at her ignorance. “I’m cousin to Sussford.” At the silence, he looked over at Jack. “Your sister Madeline’s husband.”

Olivia felt her stomach drop. She hadn’t told him yet.

Jack swung on her. “Maddie? She’s
married
?”

“You don’t remember,” Braxton said. “I didn’t know.”

Olivia opened her mouth, all the information she could have given him tumbling around inside. In the end, it was Lady Kate who answered for her. “You remember Sussford, Jack,” she said. “Bright young puppy with that brilliant stable. Last I heard, he and Lady Madeline were intent on raising prime hunters.”

Jack turned Livvie’s way. “Is he telling the truth, Liv? Is he related to Maddie?”

How could she know? She hadn’t seen his sister in five years
.

“Of course I am,” Braxton insisted. “Why would I lie?”

And suddenly, as if a light had been extinguished, Jack’s eyes went cold. He didn’t move so much as a muscle, but Olivia thought he suddenly looked dangerous. There was a predatory tautness to him she didn’t recognize, and it unnerved her.

“You’ll pardon my caution,” he said, his voice colder than his expression, “but I find blind trust to be a sometimes fatal error in judgment.”

Olivia shivered. How could those beautiful, sweet eyes look so lethal? What had forged the new steel in him? He looked so bleak, as if the memory he’d lost was nothing more than a wasteland.

“You remember something?” Lady Kate asked him.

“No. But I don’t think you’d argue my point, would you, Your Grace?”

Lady Kate offered an answering smile. “Not at all. But then, with several key exceptions, I’ve never trusted anyone. This, I think, is a new twist for you.”

He shrugged. “That may be. I do know that I am not acquainted with this man, and he is in a position to harm not only me, but also my wife and her friends.”

Kit startled. “Your wife?”

Olivia held her breath.

Grace reached out to take Braxton’s hand. “Yes, didn’t you know? Olivia is Lady Gracechurch. Oddly enough, the only thing the earl does remember is that he is married. To Olivia.”

Kit nodded a few times, his eyes wide. “Indeed.”

“How could you not know that?” Jack demanded.

Braxton almost squirmed. “I never actually got to meet her, Jack. Been on campaign, don’t you know.”

Grace, unruffled, turned to Jack. “I’m not sure if you will accept my word, my lord, but Kit is a dear friend. He served honorably under my father and was injured at Toulouse. I believe you can trust him.”

Even the new Jack couldn’t seem to gainsay her. But Grace had that effect on people. “Thank you, Miss Fairchild. Your word is enough. But how could my family not know where I was? Haven’t I been in touch?”

Braxton shook his head. “Not since that stint in Salerno with the Neapolitan Court two years ago. It’s certainly the last time I saw you.”

Jack just stared at him, unable, evidently, to speak.

“Why did his family need him home?” Olivia asked.

She had to wait for her answer, as the inevitable parade arrived to dispense tea. Finney supervised the flawless ritual and then backed out, closing the doors behind him. All the while, Olivia felt her tension increase as Braxton accepted a glass of Madeira.

“They asked me to look because the marquess was gravely ill,” he said. “Better now, but the family felt Gracechurch should be home.”

Jack nodded, his eyes closed a moment. “I assume the marchioness was as helpful as usual.”

“She was… distraught.”

He only grunted. “Another reason to hurry home, I imagine.”

“You’re going home?” Kit asked, looking around as if for verification.

“Not immediately,” Diccan suggested evenly.

Jack shook his head and opened his eyes. “No. No need to put the family in any danger. I’ll contact them as soon as I’ve cleared up this mess.”

Braxton looked at Grace. “Mess?”

“Indeed,” Diccan answered instead. “It was why Miss Fairchild contacted you. She recommended you for a delicate operation we have in mind. Jack does need to get back to England, but it’s proving a bit more involved than just hiring a place on a packet boat, and we need your help.”

Braxton nodded. “You have it, gladly. I can’t tell you how glad his family is going to be to know we’ve found him.”

The words brought Jack back to his feet. “No,” he said, and looked straight at Olivia. “They can’t know yet. Not until I’ve been to Horse Guards. I’ll be going the minute I get to London.”

Olivia was on her feet before she knew it. “No!”

Jack stepped up and laid a hand on her cheek. “Yes, Liv. I don’t know how I got here. You don’t know. There is only one way to find out, and I have to do it.”

She knew he saw the stark fear in her eyes. She thought surely he would ask her why. But he didn’t. He just dropped a kiss on her lips and smiled. “Trust me. The sooner I speak to the officials, the sooner this will be over. You’ll arrange it for me, Diccan?”

Olivia heard Diccan sigh as if he were the most put-upon person in Europe. “Yes, Jack. I’ll arrange it. But until I do, you must promise me to behave yourself and not go running off to solve this puzzle yourself.”

Jack smiled over at him. “I would if I could, Diccan. But I don’t know what I’ll remember between now and then, do I? I can only promise to do my utmost to protect these ladies until I find out.”

Tell him,
Olivia thought.
Show him the dispatch. Make him realize that he might be signing a death warrant if he goes to the government.

She turned to Grace, hoping to see encouragement. But Grace shook her head. The danger to Jack’s health had not changed.

Beset by the growing conviction that she was condemning Jack no matter what she did, Olivia kept her silence.

* * *

Later that evening, Diccan Hilliard found himself sharing a dimly lit library with one of the sources he’d culled for his infamous plan. The Baron Thirsk was a nondescript man. Medium height, medium build, medium coloring, the kind of man people couldn’t quite describe even after just seeing him.

At the moment, the baron was enjoying his cognac. “Everything is in place for tomorrow?” he asked.

Crossing his legs and settling into the tufted leather chair, Diccan made a point to contemplate the pale Delamain cognac Thirsk had poured for him. “They should be in London by next week.”

“Excellent.”

Frowning, Diccan looked up. “You still insist on sending them to Lady Kate’s.”

“It is the tidiest solution.”

“For you, perhaps. Don’t you think they deserve to know that you’re using them as bait?”

Thirsk waved off Diccan’s concern. “The house will be well watched. Why worry them needlessly?”

“Because we don’t know what information Chambers gave away. You didn’t see him. I did, and believe me, he didn’t die easily. And Gracechurch has inadvertently set a deadline by demanding an appointment with Whitehall. His enemies have evaded us thus far. I don’t want to run the risk they’ll slip by us again.”

“We will be on our own playing field now. Fear not, Hilliard. All is in place. Now, I thank you for bringing this to me, but you need not worry any longer.”

Diccan wasn’t so sure. But his hands were tied.

If something happened to his Kate, though, he would never forgive Thirsk. Or himself for bringing Thirsk into this.

Before dawn the next morning, the plan was put into effect. Decoys were sent on a seemingly panicked flight to Ostend, where they would catch a fishing boat to Margate. Thrasher, stationed at the upper-front window, was able to report that the bait had been taken. The minute the substitute couple set forth in Lady Kate’s coach, men separated themselves from the deep shadows to follow. They, in turn, would be trailed by Major Braxton as far as Ghent to make sure they didn’t double back.

Lady Kate publicly dispatched a portion of her staff home to open her Mayfair town house while she took the more leisurely route via one of the pleasure barges to Antwerp and then a packet home. Decked out in homespun and clogs, Olivia and Jack accompanied the staff as far as the canal, where they climbed aboard a grain barge.They were not watched.

It wasn’t until later that afternoon that the Surgeon received the news that his prey had escaped.

“We’ve looked everywhere,” a thin, weasel-faced man assured him. “They are not in Brussels. No one knows where they’ve gone.”

He’d found the Surgeon in his rented room, packing as if he were headed off on a hunting weekend. “No matter,” the Surgeon assured him. “I know exactly where they will end up.”

The thin man seemed to shrink in size. “And?”

The Surgeon slipped several extra knives into the false bottom of his portmanteau. “And the little valet ended up being a wellspring of information. Gracechurch does indeed have what we want. But the valet no longer knew where it was. He was, however, able to tell us that Gracechurch’s wife is now in possession of everything our friend was carrying on the battlefield.” Lifting a stack of cravats, he packed them in a precise stack. “I also just learned that Gracechurch is going to be suicidal enough to present himself to Whitehall, which means he still doesn’t remember anything. If he did, he wouldn’t go anywhere near that place.” Smoothing his clothing, he closed the case. “I don’t believe he will be successful.”

The little man shivered. “How can you be sure?”

The Surgeon smiled. “I understand he loves his wife very much.”

“His wife?”

“Why, yes.” Lifting his curly beaver hat from the bureau, he set it atop his head at a precise angle. “What do you think of this quote, Fernier? ‘The penalty we pay for our acts of foolishness is that someone else always suffers for them.’ Appropriate, don’t you think?”

The smaller man frowned. “For what?”

The Surgeon tapped him on the cheek. “For carving onto a woman’s lovely belly, of course. It is time the earl learns that there are consequences for his actions.”

Maybe Olivia could have come out of the trip heart-whole if it had been shorter. If life on the barge hadn’t seemed like a place out of time, separated from the past and balanced on the edge of an unknown future. If she and Jack hadn’t relied on each other when the sense of danger became too acute.

She might even have been saved if they had been able to find separate berths. But the one-room cabin was small and low-ceilinged, with the entire crew piled in like hounds by a fire. She and Jack had been forced to share a pallet.