Julie Garwood - [3 Book Box Set] (127 page)

“With his usual flair for nonsense,” Richards commented dryly. “Since he can’t get out, he’s had a party at his townhouse every night. There’s another one scheduled for this eve, as a matter of fact. I thought I’d drop in.”

Richards paused to give Lyon a long, meaningful look.

Lyon grinned. “I’ll be there,” he told his friend. “Don’t bring any valuables with you, Richards. You wouldn’t want to be robbed by Jack, would you?”

“Ah, then Jack will be making an appearance?”

“You may wager on it.”

“Won’t Rhone be amused?” Richards commented. He straightened in his chair, his manner suddenly brisk. “Now that Rhone’s problem is taken care of, I’ll move on to my other reason for coming to see you. Your wife’s father, to be exact.”

Richards had just captured Lyon’s full attention. He pushed the letters aside and leaned forward.

“Did you know your wife’s father is on his way to London?”

Lyon shook his head. “How would you know him?” he asked.

“His name is Edward Stalinsky, but of course you would know that,” Richards said.

Lyon nodded. He did know his father-in-law’s full name, but only because he’d watched Christina sign the marriage certificate. “Yes, Baron Stalinsky,” he said, urging Richards along.

“He did a favor for us a very long time ago. The Brisbane affair. Do you remember hearing about that mishap?”

Mishap? Lyon shook his head. “I remember you called the Battle of Waterloo Napoleon’s mishap,” he said. “Tell me about this Brisbane business. I have no memory of it in my mind.”

“You were a young lad. Still, I thought you might have heard of the matter sooner or later,” Richards said, his voice whisper-soft. “I forget I’m a good twenty years your senior. I suppose I should let the younger ones take charge,” he added with a sigh.

“You’ve tried to resign several times since I’ve worked for you,” Lyon answered.

He was eager to hear Richards recount the happening to him and learn all he could about Christina’s father, but he knew his friend well enough to understand he would take his usual slow time getting to it.

“I’m like an old hound,” Richards said. “The scent of trouble still captures my mind. Brisbane was an Englishman,” he continued, finally getting to the heart of the matter. “You might say he was our Benedict Arnold. He turned traitor, sold a few secrets, then his family began to worry his conscience. He had a wife and four little girls. He came to us and confessed his transgressions. We, or rather my predecessors, worked a promise with the man. We were after bigger fish, you see. With Brisbane’s full cooperation, we set a trap to catch his superiors. Baron Stalinsky acted as our intermediary. I don’t remember how he got involved,” he added with a shrug. “The baron did all he could—took every precaution, I’m told—but the plan failed miserably all the same.”

“How?” Lyon asked.

“Brisbane’s wife and children were murdered. Their
throats were cut. The atrocity was made to look as if Brisbane had killed them and then turned the blade on himself.”

“You don’t believe that’s what really happened, do you?” Lyon asked.

“No, of course not. I think one of Brisbane’s superiors found out about the trap,” Richards answered. “Either by chance or by payment.”

“What about Baron Stalinsky? Did he continue to work with the government?”

“No. He married shortly after the Brisbane business and returned to his home. He was outraged by the horror he’d witnessed. He was the first to find the bodies, you see, and he refused to lend England a hand after that. Can’t fault the man. I wasn’t there, but I can imagine the nightmare Stalinsky walked into.”

“Have you kept in touch with the Baron since that time?”

“None of us have,” Richards said. “But several of his old friends have received notice from him that he’ll be arriving in England soon.”

“I wonder if he knows he has a daughter now.”

“Good God. You mean to tell me he didn’t know?” Richards asked.

“Father and daughter have never met. I believe the baron thought his wife and child had died years ago. For that matter, everyone I talked to thought the Baron had passed away, too. Sir Reynolds was one to make that speculation.”

“Yes, there was surprise when the letters arrived,” Richards said.

“I wonder what the baron has been up to all these years.”

“I heard that a year or so later Stalinsky lost his kingdom. Then he vanished. We never had reason to keep track of the man,” Richards added. A frown marred his expression. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

“Do you have any reason at all to distrust the baron?”

“Ah, so that’s the itch, is it?”

“Tell me everything you know about the man,” Lyon ordered. “Everything you can remember. I realize it was a long time ago,” he added.

“There’s very little to tell. I was young and impressionable back then, but I do remember being in awe of the man. He wasn’t much older than I was. He had a commanding presence. I envied him. Lyon, damn it all, you’ve got my guts churning. Now you tell me what you know about the baron,” he ordered.

“I don’t have any information to give you. I’ve never met him. Christina hasn’t either, but she’s afraid of him. When you meet my wife, you’ll understand the full force of that comment. Christina isn’t a woman who frightens easily.”

“I already know that much about her,” Richards said.

“How?”

“She married you, didn’t she?”

Lyon grinned. “Yes, she did,” he said. “Not very willingly, but …”

Richards snorted with laughter. “Perhaps she’s afraid of her father because of the unusual circumstances,” he said after a moment’s pause. “Not to know one’s father and then finally to meet him …”

“No,” Lyon said, shaking his head. “Her fear is based on something else. She called him a jackal. Keep your guard up when you’re with the baron, Richards. My instincts and Christina’s fears are enough to sway my mind.”

“You’re that uneasy?”

“I am.”

“Why hasn’t Christina explained the real reasons for her fears, then?”

“She’s very stubborn,” Lyon announced with a smile that told Richards he thought that was a noble quality. “And she is just beginning to trust me. It’s a fragile bond, Richards. For that reason, I’m not going to prod her. Christina will tell me when she’s ready, and not a minute before.”

“But you trust her judgment?” Richards asked. “You trust her?”

“I do.” His answer was given without hesitation, his voice emphatic.

And then the full realization settled in his mind … and in his heart. He did trust her. Completely. “In all matters,”
Lyon acknowledged in a soft voice. “God only knows why, but I do,” he told his friend before he started to laugh.

“And that’s amusing?”

“Oh, yes. My little wife and I have been playing a game with each other,” Lyon confessed. “It’s amusing, you see, because neither one of us has realized it.”

“I don’t understand,” Richards confessed.

“I’m only just beginning to understand,” Lyon said. “Christina hides her past from me … just as I’ve been hiding my past from her. I think she believes I’ll find her inferior in some way,” he added. “I wouldn’t, of course, but she needs to learn to trust me enough to believe it in her heart.”

“I would be happy to investigate your wife’s past for you,” Richards volunteered.

“No. I sent men to France to make inquiries, but I’m going to call them home. I will not look into her past, and I don’t want you to either, Richards. In time she’ll tell me what she wants me to know.”

“And will you tell her your secrets?” Richards asked. His voice was whisper-soft. “You have no cause to worry, Lyon. I’ve never been able to trust a man the way I trust you. Your loyalty to your country has always been absolute. That is why you were always given the most difficult assignments.”

Lyon was surprised by the vehemence in his friend’s voice. Richards wasn’t a man given to compliments. In all their years working together, Lyon had never heard such praise.

“Now you’ve got me worried about Stalinsky,” Richards continued. “I’ll start looking into his affairs immediately. There’s another problem, however,” he added. He scratched his beard in an absentminded fashion. “The department had hopes that you’d give a reception honoring your father-in-law when he arrives. Heaven help us, there’s already talk of knighthood. Some of the older gentlemen remember with exaggerated recall the noble deeds Baron Stalinsky accomplished for the good of England. I’m going to look into those deeds as well,” he added with a brisk nod.

“A reception isn’t going to sit well with Christina,” Lyon said.

Richards gave a discreet cough, then said, “Lyon, I certainly don’t want to be the one to tell you how to manage your marriage, but it would seem to me that you must simply question your wife about her father at the first opportunity. Order her to explain her fears to you. Make her answer your questions, son.”

Question her? Lyon felt like laughing. Since the minute he’d met Christina he’d done nothing but question her. “There will be no questions. She’ll tell me—”

“I know, I know,” Richards interrupted with a long sigh. “In her own time.”

“That’s about it,” Lyon answered. “Until then, it’s my duty to keep her safe.”

“Safe?”

“Christina believes her father will try to kill her.”

“Oh, Lord.”

“Exactly. And you can see how offended we both would be if the baron is knighted.”

“Lyon, I insist that you question your wife. If there is danger—”

“I will deal with it. I will not question her again.”

Richards ignored the irritation in his friend’s tone. “I’m not one to judge, but I believe you have a very unusual marriage.”

“I have a very unusual wife. You’ll like her, Richards.”

A sudden noise coming from the foyer interrupted the conversation. Lyon glanced up just as the library doors were thrown open.

Brown, his loyal butler, came rushing into the room.

Lyon bounded out of his chair. His heart started slamming against his chest and he felt as though the breath was being squeezed out of him.

Something had happened to Christina. She’d been hurt … taken …

The feeling of panic slowly dissipated. When Christina came flying into the room, her golden hair floating around her shoulders, Lyon literally fell back into his chair.

She was all right. Oh, her eyes were clouded with unshed tears, and her expression showed how troubled she was. She was upset, yes, but she hadn’t been injured.

He started breathing again.

“Lyon, you just tell me how it was done,” Christina demanded. She rushed right past Richards, didn’t even seem to notice that anyone else was in the room, reached her husband’s side, and thrust two envelopes into his hands. “I recognized his handwriting, and at first I thought it might be true. But in my heart I didn’t feel it was so. I would have known if something had happened to them. I would have known.”

Lyon grabbed hold of Christina’s hands. “Sweetheart, calm down and start at the beginning.”

“Read this letter first,” Christina said. She pulled her hand away and motioned to the Countess’s envelope. “Then you’ll understand why I know it’s trickery.”

“The Marchioness fainted dead away, my lord,” Brown called out.

Lyon turned his attention to his butler. Brown was still standing in the doorway.

“She what?” Lyon roared.

“She swooned,” Brown said, nodding vigorously.

“Then why did you bring her to London?”

Lyon was suddenly infuriated. He glared at his butler, then turned to Christina. “You should be home in bed,” he shouted.

“Don’t yell at me,” Christina ordered. Her voice was every bit as loud as Lyon’s had been. “Brown knew better than to argue with me. I was determined to come to you, Lyon. Please read the letters. I know it is all a lie.”

Lyon forced himself to calm down. Christina had started crying. He decided to get to the matter of her health after he’d dealt with her problem.

Lyon read the Countess’s letter first. By the time he was finished with it his hands were shaking.

God help him, she’d learned the truth about him. The Countess had found out about his past and had recounted several damning details in her letter to her niece.

Now Christina wanted his denial. She’d come all the way to London to confront him, to hear him tell her that they were lies.

He wasn’t going to lie to her. But the truth could destroy her.

No more lies, no more pretenses … hadn’t she given him that promise just this morning?

She deserved equal measure. “Christina,” Lyon began. He slowly lifted his gaze to hers, “We do what we must do when there is a threat, and I …”

He couldn’t seem to finish his explanation.

Christina could see his pain, his anguish. The need to comfort him overrode all other considerations. She instinctively reached out to him.

And then the confusion of it all hit her. Her hand stilled in the air between them. “What are you talking about?”

“What?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m trying to explain,” Lyon muttered. He turned to glare at Brown. The butler caught the message and immediately closed the door.

Lyon’s gaze then settled on Richards. His friend rudely ignored the silent order and stayed right where he was.

“Lyon, answer me,” Christina demanded.

“Christina, it’s very difficult to explain with an audience listening,” he said. He took a deep breath. “It’s true. All of it. I did exactly what your aunt has told you. My motives were a hell of a lot cleaner, however, and I would …”

She finally understood. Christina closed her eyes and prayed for guidance. She knew she probably wasn’t being a good wife now, that Lyon obviously felt the need to unburden himself of his secrets. He’d picked a strange time to share his worries with her, she thought. Although it was selfish of her to feel this way, she really wished he’d help her with her problem first.

When Christina closed her eyes, Lyon felt as though a knife had just been plunged into his heart. “My dear, I was a soldier. I did what I had to …”

She finally looked at him. Her gaze was direct and filled with tenderness.