Surrender (33 page)

Julianne turned to Gerard. “Please tell him we will be right there.” She shut the door behind him.

“Jack was here, three nights ago,” Evelyn whispered.

Amelia and Julianne exchanged brief glances. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Julianne cried, but she kept her voice low.

Evelyn knew she flushed. “Because he told me not to do so.”

“You think Barrow has come here to arrest him?” Amelia asked.

“Why else would he come?” Suddenly Evelyn felt her heart lurch with dread. “Oh, God. What if Jack has stayed in London?”

“He never stays in town. It is too dangerous.” Julianne was firm. “We had better greet the captain. She opened the doors and strode out. Evelyn and Amelia followed.

Evelyn saw Barrow the moment she left the salon. He was standing impatiently beside the front door, along with two of his men and the two liveried doormen. Through the window that was behind him, Evelyn now saw two more mounted soldiers, holding the three officers’ chargers. Her dread intensified, but she managed a smile as she lifted her head and squared her shoulders. “Good afternoon, Captain. I did not realize your jurisdiction included town.”

“Countess.” He bowed slightly, and then nodded at Julianne and Amelia. He stepped briskly forward, extending a tied and rolled parchment at Evelyn. “I am afraid I have a warrant for your arrest, Lady D’Orsay.”

Evelyn reeled, shocked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You might wish to read it, but I have been instructed to take you into custody,” he said.

He was going to arrest her? What had she done? Evelyn succumbed to panic.

Amelia barreled forward. “There must be a mistake, Captain.” Her tone was hard, and filled with authority. She planted herself between the captain and Evelyn, hands on her hips. “I am Lady Grenville, Captain, the Countess of St Just.”

“There is no mistake.” His smile was cold.

Evelyn had begun to think. There could be no charges—what had she done wrong? She realized Julianne now stood beside her, quite protectively.

“And what are the charges?” Amelia demanded.

“I have an arrest warrant, Countess, and I do not need charges in order to arrest Lady D’Orsay. However, I will tell you this—it is a criminal act to harbor a fugitive of the Crown in a time of war.”

Evelyn did not know the law well. But she did know that anyone could be arrested for anything, without charges being leveled. “You searched the house. Jack Greystone wasn’t there,” she cried.

Barrow whirled to face her, his green eyes flashing. “But since then, I have sworn testimony that he was indeed in hiding in your home—and that you were, most definitely, aiding and abetting the enemy.”

Evelyn gasped. None of her servants would ever betray her in such a manner! “That is impossible!”

“Your maid has signed an affidavit, Lady D’Orsay, indicting you for harboring a fugitive of the crown—an enemy of the state, a traitor.”

Adelaide would never betray her this way. Evelyn felt her knees give way. Julianne caught her arm. “Bette did this? Why?”

“I imagine she is a patriot.” His implication was clear, even if left unspoken—unlike her. And Barrow stepped aggressively toward Evelyn, clearly meaning to seize her.

As bulky and unwieldy as she was, Amelia moved with the agility of a cat, stepping in front of Evelyn yet again. “You are not taking the Countess from this house. That would be a terrible mistake on your part, Captain. Clearly, this is a misunderstanding. Or perhaps, Bette was forced into making such an erroneous indictment. In any case, my husband, St Just, will repair this matter.”

“There is no mistake,” Barrow said harshly.

“I am warning you, sir, there is a staff here of two dozen—do not attempt to remove Lady D’Orsay from these premises!” Amelia was furious now. Her gray eyes flashed. “And you do not wish to get on the count’s wrong side.”

“You intend to physically obstruct me?” He was incredulous. “You even threaten me?”

“We will most definitely physically obstruct you and your men. I suggest you return to your superiors and check your facts. In the interim, I have no doubt you will find the arrest warrant to have been mistakenly and illegally issued.” She smiled coldly. “Good day, Captain.”

Barrow trembled in anger, but he was hesitant now. “Fine,” he snapped, turning to Evelyn. “You are not to leave this house, Countess, and I will be back after I discuss this matter with my superiors.” He gestured at his men and flung open the front door himself. The trio pounded down the front steps, toward the waiting soldiers and horses.

Julianne leaped past Amelia, slamming the door shut. “Bolt it,” she cried to the two doormen.

Evelyn staggered to the closest chair. Amazingly, Amelia did not move, her hands still on her hips. “Are you all right, Evelyn?”

Evelyn could not find her voice. Julianne hugged her. “We would never let you be arrested.”

“Never,” Amelia confirmed. She finally sighed and walked over to an adjacent chair and sat down. “The babe is kicking.” She patted her belly, but looked up. “If Bette has betrayed you, and I imagine she has, then you cannot stay here.”

Evelyn hugged herself. “She would never voluntarily do such a thing!”

Julianne clasped her shoulder. “Barrow has been after Jack for the past year. He is obsessed, clearly. I will gamble my favorite necklace that he coerced Bette.”

“He is going to come back,” Evelyn managed, still stunned by her narrow escape from imprisonment.

“Yes, I imagine he will—which is why you must leave—immediately—as soon as it is dark.”

And Evelyn realized what was happening. She was about to be arrested—and if she did not flee—she would go to prison. “Aimee is at Lambert Hall.”

Amelia patted her hand. “It will be all right, Evelyn. Simon will correct this, and if he does not, Dominic will. I am certain.”

“But we are going to have to hide until they do,” Evelyn cried. “My God, where will we go?”

“I know exactly where you and Aimee can hide, Evelyn.” Julianne smiled. “Looe Island.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

E
VELYN
SHIVERED
,
her arm around Aimee. She could hardly breathe. It was a dark cloudy night, with no stars, no moon and a sharp breeze. She huddled in a wool cloak, as did her daughter. The small dinghy they were in raced toward the nearby cove. In the cloudy night, Looe Island loomed blackly before them.

She felt as if she were in a dream. Just that afternoon, Captain Barrow had tried to arrest her. It remained stunning, unbelievable. Five hours ago, at midnight, she and Aimee had stolen out of Bedford House, led by Paget. That was as incredible. The earl had taken them by a hired coach to the docks at Southwark. There, Lucas had escorted them onto a small cutter, and they had set sail immediately.

Aimee looked up at her now with wide eyes. Evelyn had convinced her that they were on an adventure—that they were sneaking away in the middle of the night, in order to surprise Jack. She had told her daughter that they were going to visit him for a while, and she had extolled the virtues of his island home, until Aimee had become eager to leave town. For the moment, Laurent, Adelaide and Bette would stay at Bedford house with Jolie.

Lucas and another sailor were rowing them to shore. No one spoke, which made the dark, windy night more eerie. The surf was choppy, and they were being sprayed. She smiled at Aimee though her heart felt as if it was lodged in her throat.

She had no choice but to flee London—and the authorities—now. She was a fugitive, a warrant out for her arrest, and Aimee could not afford to lose her mother. Somehow, like Jack, Evelyn was an outlaw.

She did not want this for her daughter, and she should have regrets. Yet she had none. Instead, she was acutely aware of the fact that in a few more moments, she would see Jack again.

It would be bittersweet.

Lucas leaped out of the dinghy, onto the wet sand, deftly avoiding the small waves. The other sailor followed suit, and they dragged the dinghy onto the beach. Lucas then lifted Aimee out, before helping Evelyn climb out.

He smiled briefly at her, taking a lantern from the dinghy. He gave it to the sailor. “It’s a bit of a walk, Aimee,” he said quietly, taking her hand. He glanced at Evelyn.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. She could not imagine Jack’s reaction to what had transpired—other than that he wouldn’t be very pleased. On the other hand, she could imagine exactly the nature of their reunion, once he had recovered from her arrival.

They trudged across the deeper sand and reached the rocky path that led to the house. They had not taken more than a few steps when Lucas halted abruptly. Suddenly they were surrounded by a group of men holding lanterns that blazed—and muskets. Half a dozen muskets were aimed at them.

Lucas set Aimee down, and the little girl dashed to Evelyn. “Jack!” he called out.

Evelyn held Aimee’s hand, her heart lurching, as Jack suddenly stepped through the circle of men, holding up a lantern, his hair loose, wearing a lawn shirt and his breeches. Clearly, he had just leaped out of his bed.

His eyes widened in alarm when he saw her. He paled. “What happened?”

“I will tell you when we get to the house. It has been a long and cold night,” Lucas said.

Jack nodded at his men, who lowered their arms, as he stepped over to Evelyn. She wanted to leap into his arms. Instead, she managed a frail smile. “We are fine.”

His expression hardened. “Somehow, I doubt that.” And he smiled. “Aimee! Come, let me give you a ride on my shoulders. It is far better than walking—you may trust me on that.”

Evelyn watched her daughter smile shyly and give her hand to Jack. He heaved her up, piggyback style, and glanced unsmiling at Evelyn. Her own smile vanished.

They turned and started up the path to the house.

* * *

A
IMEE
YAWNED
,
FIGHTING
to keep her eyes open. Alice had shown them to their rooms, while Lucas and Jack had vanished into the library downstairs. While Alice made a fire, Evelyn had helped Aimee change out of her damp clothes, and then she had tucked her into bed. Aimee had not slept on the cutter. She was about to fall asleep now. “Good night,” she finally murmured, eyes closed.

Alice laid her hand on Evelyn’s shoulder. “I can sit with her if you want,” she said.

Evelyn wanted to go downstairs and learn what was being said—and planned. But she did not want to leave her daughter alone, in a strange bed, in a strange house. Not after their flight through the night. “But it is so late.”

Alice smiled. “My lady, it is almost dawn.”

Evelyn jerked and got up. She went to the draperies and parted them. The sky was just beginning to lighten. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said, meaning it.

“She is such a lovely child,” Alice said.

Evelyn warmed, well aware that Alice was not referring to her daughter’s appearance. Aimee hadn’t complained, and she had been polite. “Yes, she is,” she said.

She left the room, faltering as she passed the open door to Jack’s bedchamber. They had made love for the very first time in that room—and she would never forget it.

Her heart was racing. Of course it was. No matter the circumstance, no matter the danger, she would always be thrilled to see him.

As Evelyn went downstairs, she heard soft, low tones coming from the library. She paused on the threshold there.

Both men were seated on the sofa, Lucas somewhat sprawled out, with a glass of red wine in his hand. Jack appeared tense. The moment she appeared in the doorway, he jumped to his feet and strode over to her. “How is Aimee?”

“She is fast asleep,” Evelyn said, grateful that he had asked.

He stared for a moment. “So my nemesis has decided to hunt you now.”

She was chilled. “Bette was coerced into making her confession. She has admitted it.”

“Of course she was. But does it matter?” His gray eyes flashed. “There is a warrant for your arrest, Evelyn. Because of me you are a fugitive—an outlaw.”

“I am hardly an outlaw.” But hadn’t she just thought the very same thing?

“If there is a difference between being wanted by the law, and fleeing from it, then you are splitting hairs.” He was harsh.

“You are blaming yourself!” she cried.

“Who else is to blame?” he demanded. “I do not want you and your daughter having to live this way!”

“I know you don’t,” she said. “And I don’t want to live this way, either. But that will not change the past, nor will it change my feelings for you.”

His eyes flickered. “You should hate me now.”

“I could never hate you.”

He turned away with frustration. “I sent you to Julianne to keep you safe. Damn it!”

She touched his back. “We are safe now.”

He whirled and their gazes met. Evelyn managed to smile. He finally softened. Grudgingly, he said, “Perhaps. But for how long?”

“Dominic and Simon mean to use their connections to have that warrant rescinded. Apparently one has the ear of Pitt, the other, the King.”

“Good.” He gave her a wild look. “And the moment they do, you can return to Julianne’s!” He gave her another look, this one dark, and he paced.

Evelyn now met Lucas’s wide, rapt gaze. She began to blush. If he hadn’t realized they were lovers before, he certainly did so now.

And not for the first time, she thought about residing on Looe Island, with Jack. They had decided that continuing their affair was too dangerous, but that hadn’t stopped them from making love the other night at Bedford House. She could not imagine living with him now, day in and day out, and not sharing his bed come nightfall. Frankly, it did not even make sense.

Lucas finished his wine and stood. “I am going,” he said. “Is there anything else that you need, Evelyn?”

She walked over to him. “I cannot thank you enough for all you have done.”

Lucas smiled. “You are like another sister.” He gave his brother a wry glance. “I will always help, if I can.” He sent Jack a salute. “I will send word the moment I hear anything.”

Jack stood by the window, his hands clenched by his side. Outside, the sky was pale and stained with streaks of pink and mauve as the sun rose. He did not answer.

Evelyn looked carefully back and forth between them with some alarm. Just then, she was certain Lucas was not referring to her predicament, but to the war—and perhaps, to the Quiberon Bay invasion.

Lucas picked up his jacket and walked out. Evelyn turned to Jack. “You were not discussing me—you were discussing the war,” she said softly, without accusation.

“We did discuss you, Evelyn, at some length.”

She felt her heart slam. “Should I be concerned?”

“No. I only had the kindest words.” His gray gaze was heating. “If I could think of another place to hide you, I would do so. We agreed it is better if we stay away from one another.”

She thought about their brief rendezvous, four days earlier. They had made love in a frenzy, with urgency, but they hadn’t had a chance to discuss his spying, the war, or anything else—including their feelings for one another. “Maybe I do not mind being here.”

“You should mind, Evelyn. You should mind very much.”

“No one knows I am here, other than your family.”

He started walking slowly toward her. “The sailors know.”

“They do not know who I am.” Her body was stiff with tension now. “We did not have a chance to speak at all…the other night.”

He paused before her. “I don’t want to talk about the war, Evelyn, or how it affects us.”

“That isn’t fair,” she said softly. “Maybe I can change your mind.” She clasped his shoulders and stood on tiptoe. “I hardly wished to be pursued by Captain Barrow, but there is a benefit to my being here now.”

“Thinking so makes you a very foolish woman,” he said, leaning close. He brushed his lips against hers. “You are right. No one knows you are here.” And this time, he pulled her close and kissed her, hard.

And Evelyn thought,
I am not a foolish woman—I am a woman in love.

* * *

E
VELYN
LAUGHED
.
She was seated on the beach and dug her bare feet into the sand as Aimee skipped through the wet shoreline, dodging the incoming and outgoing tide, a pail in her hand. “Look!” Aimee cried, bending and holding up a gleaming white shell.

“It is lovely,” Evelyn called, leaning back on her hands. It was lovely—just as the early June day was lovely. The sun was bright and warm, the sky blue, gulls soared overhead, and they had now been at the island for five days.

She flushed as her heart beat wildly and her body tightened with so much love and desire. She was almost living openly with Jack now. She had not a doubt that everyone in the house knew they spent each and every night together, even if he always awoke before her in the morning and stole out of her rooms.

It almost felt as if they were man and wife—as if they were all a family. Jack did not join them for breakfast, but he had joined them for all but two luncheons, and every night, she took supper with him alone. He spent a great deal of his time in the library, where she imagined he was going over various accounts and planning his projects—both smuggling runs and the war games he still played. He went to the mainland every day, sometimes for just an hour. She guessed he had meetings to attend. She was afraid he was meeting French agents. When she asked, he refused to answer and her alarm knew no bounds.

But she found the respite wonderful. She spent hours reading, embroidering or walking the beaches with Aimee. She had begun to help with the management of Jack’s household. She now planned their menus and supervised the house’s cleaning. Every day a servant went ashore to shop, so she lacked for nothing. The days did not feel too long and the island did not feel isolated. To the contrary, Evelyn felt as if she were in a wonderful dream, and almost as if she were a newlywed.

She wondered if she were even more deeply in love than before.

“A penny for your thoughts.” Jack sat down beside her.

Evelyn thrilled. “I thought you had gone ashore.”

“I did. I am back.” He gave her a long look, smiling slightly. Then he glanced at Aimee, who was now jumping small waves, having put her pail aside. “She is so happy.”

“What child isn’t happy spending her days on the beach?”

He looked at Evelyn now, glancing at her bare feet. “This idyll will soon end, Evelyn.”

She felt her heart sink. “I know it is only an interlude, Jack. Has there been any word about the warrant for my arrest?”

He studied her. “No. You haven’t even been here a week.”

“No, I have not.” She thought about his lovemaking, which remained heated and passionate, and how adept he was at avoiding serious discussion afterward and throughout the day. “You sound as if you know precisely when this idyll will end.”

He now leaned back on his hands in the sand, as well. He sighed. “Will you ever cease attempting to be a sleuth?’

“It was an innocent question.”

“Was it?” Impulsively, he took her hand and kissed it. “I want you to know that, even though I was horrified when you arrived here, considering the circumstances, I also feel as if this is a sweet, yet impossible, idyll.”

Jack was never affectionate out of bed, and Evelyn felt her heart race with happiness. “You are becoming romantic,” she said softly.

“How can I not be romantic where you are concerned?” he said ruefully, unsmiling.

Evelyn waited. Was he about to confess his feelings for her—at long last?

“A part of me, the selfish part of me, is fiercely glad to have you here,” he said softly. “And I am not even ashamed to admit it.”

She clasped his cheek. “Thank you for telling me that.”

He studied her. “But we must both be realistic—we must both anticipate the end.” He now sat up and crossed his legs.

She sat up straighter, too. Dismay accompanied the surge of dread. “You have a plan to leave,” she cried. And where would he go? France? Quiberon Bay?

“Even if I had a plan to leave the island, I would not tell you, and you know why.”

“Jack!” She seized his hands, startling them both. She hated being so afraid for him! “Has it ever occurred to you to simply get out of this war—completely? And spend the rest of your days in such an idyllic life?”