The Bed and the Bachelor (34 page)

“Wouldn’t she? She’s not the only one who can use an intimate relationship to suit their own purposes. I told her what she wanted to hear, and in turn she told me about the cipher, and about you. By the way, she says you’re a fool when it comes to mathematics and that you barely know the difference between an equals sign and a minus. Given how she duped you with the first copy of the code, I confess I must agree.”

A growl rumbled in Vacheau’s throat, the gun trembling in his hand. Abruptly, he glanced sideways, back toward the cave.

Knowing it might be the only chance he got, Drake sprang forward and reached for the other man’s gun. But quick as a cobra, Vacheau deflected his advance, sending Drake’s own gun skidding away out of reach.

Straightening, Vacheau raised his weapon and prepared to shoot.

A woman’s scream split the air, jarring them both and causing Vacheau’s shot to go wide.

Drake glanced toward the sound and saw Sebastianne, standing just beyond the cave entrance, clinging to its side.

His heart leapt with joy to know she was alive, but sank again when he noticed the thin, wet lines of blood staining her temple and cheek. She was hurt, how seriously he couldn’t tell.

He realized that his moment of distraction had cost him when he saw Vacheau recover and raise his gun again to fire. Acting purely on instinct, Drake ducked and ran.

The second shot whizzed past his head, so close he actually heard the humming speed of the bullet and felt its heat. Above his head, bits of rock splintered wildly, pulverized rock raining down onto his head and hair.

A breeze rose up just then, taking fragments of rock dust with it as it blew straight into Vacheau’s face. Frantically, the Frenchman wiped at his eyes to clear his vision, stumbling backward as he did.

Instinctively, Drake called out a warning, as Vacheau’s feet came perilously close to the path’s outer edge, pebbles flying off into the void to make the fifty-foot drop to the earth below.

His eyes streaming, Vacheau sneered at Drake, showing his teeth in a jeering grin. “Nice try, Byron. Do you think you can trick me again, you and that conniving bitch? I should have killed her back in the cave when I had the chance.”

He shifted slightly, seemingly oblivious to his position along the ledge. “I thought it would be a more fitting punishment to do what I’d originally planned and send her dotty old father off to prison and her brothers to serve and die in the Army. Seeing them go would have been worse than death to her.

“Did she tell you that was how I convinced her to steal the cipher in the first place? If she didn’t have such a soft heart, that was so easy to exploit, we’d never have gotten close to you. But as I warned my superiors, never send a woman to do a man’s job.”

Vacheau’s expression turned merciless. “Now, I want that code, the
real
code, since I can’t go back without it. One more error, and
my
life will be the one in jeopardy.”

Reaching into his coat, Vacheau withdrew another gun. “Did I fail to mention that I always travel with a spare? One never knows when an extra weapon will come in handy.” Smiling, he raised the pistol. As he did, the earth crumbled away from his feet, rock sliding from beneath him as the edge of the path gave way.

With a scream, Vacheau fell and disappeared from sight.

Drake raced forward, and to his astonishment discovered the other man still alive and dangling one-handed from what remained of the cliff edge, his spare weapon no longer in his grasp.

By rights, Drake knew he ought to let the man die, he deserved no less. But, unlike Vacheau, he was no murderer. Dropping onto his stomach, he inched forward and stretched out a hand. “Grab hold,” he called.

Vacheau stared up, his dark gaze locking with Drake’s. He hesitated for what seemed an eternity, then finally extended his hand. Catching hold, Drake began to pull him up.

But rather than aiding him, Vacheau let his weight drop, so that Drake was the one being pulled down.

“There’s nothing left for me if I fail,” Vacheau called. “If I’ve got to die, the least I can do for my country is take you with me.”

“Don’t be a fool, man,” Drake told him. “I lied about the cipher. It
is
real. Let me pull you up.”

Vacheau’s eyes blazed. “I don’t believe you. It’s just another trick.”

But even if he had believed him, it was too late, Vacheau’s grip was too precarious now for him to recover. Desperately, he clutched at Drake, but Vacheau’s weight kept pulling Drake closer to the edge. Drake’s heart pumped violently in his ears, time slowing as he fought to keep his balance on the ledge, digging in with every ounce of strength he possessed to stop the inexorable slide forward.

Suddenly, a pair of arms came around him, locking at his waist and chest to pull him back. Sebastianne’s arms, clutching him, holding him, as she too strained to keep him from going over the edge—to keep him alive, even at the cost of her own safety, her own life.

With a fierce bellow, he felt Vacheau’s hand begin to slip as pain radiated through the bone and muscle of his arm and up into his shoulder. His skin grew slick, Vacheau’s fingers slipping another inch against his own. Their eyes met one last time, then suddenly he was gone, Vacheau falling untethered through the air.

Drake closed his eyes.

With a great, shuddering heave, he flung himself and Sebastianne away from the edge, rolling the two of them back from the precipice.

Chapter 32

S
he and Drake clung together, her face pressed into the vital, breathing warmth of his chest. He was alive, and by some miracle, so was she.

When she’d seen Drake being pulled over the cliff, she’d done the only thing she could think of to save him. For several long, terrifying moments, while they teetered together on the brink, she’d thought Vacheau would win. She’d feared that he would have his final revenge by sending all three of them to their deaths.

But somehow she and Drake had won, somehow they’d survived.

Exercising great care, Drake slowly eased them both into a sitting position, moving them a safe distance away from the ledge. She wasn’t entirely sure how he managed, but he did it all without once loosening his hold on her.

“Are you all right?” he murmured as he cradled her against him.

She nodded, then winced as the movement sent a stab of pain through her head. She must have moaned as well since deep lines of concern gathered on Drake’s forehead.

“How badly did he hurt you? You’re covered in blood.” Gently, he smoothed the hair away from her face, seeking the wound.

“Am I? I didn’t realize,” she said, letting him dab at her injury with a handkerchief. “Once I gave him the cipher, he hit me in the head with his pistol, and I lost consciousness. When I woke, it was dark; he’d taken the candle with him. Thank heavens I’m familiar with the inside of that cave or else I might have wandered around in there forever.”

She shivered at the thought, remembering her terror and pain and confusion. “I heard your voice, and I followed. I saw the light through the vines and heard you and Vacheau and . . .” Her words tapered off as a new memory awakened.

“You’re badly bruised and have a gash on your temple,” Drake said, tenderly pressing the cloth against the wound to staunch the last of the bleeding. “I don’t think it’s too serious, but we should get you home.”

“Did you mean it?” she asked dully.

“Mean what?”

“You said you’d come for the cipher and for revenge against me. You told him you’d cozened the information out of me, used me to gain your own objectives. That all you really cared about was keeping the code out of French hands.”

His hand grew still. “Is that what you think?”

Gazing up, she met his eyes. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Why did you save me then if you believe that? Why not let Vacheau and me go to our graves? You’d have been free. You could have taken the writ and the cipher and gone anywhere you pleased.”

A tear slid down her face. “Because I couldn’t let you die, not when I—”

“Not when you what?” he asked softly.

“Not when I love you. And I do, no matter how you may feel about me or what punishment you may have planned. You’re more important to me than my life. You’re the most important thing on this earth to me.“

She didn’t have a chance to say more as Drake’s mouth came down on her own. He kissed her with a lush ardor that was both tender and tantalizing, careful not to jar her injury as he cradled her face on his shoulder to deepen their embrace even more.

Her eyes slid closed. Trembling, she sank into a heady sea of pleasure. She wondered if she were still back inside the cave and dreaming, or if she really had plunged over the cliff ledge after all and found her way up to heaven. Never wanting their joining to end, she kissed him back, showing her love in all its depth and splendor.

Finally, he eased away but kept her tucked close, stroking his fingers over her cheek in wandering, idle caresses. “I love you too,” he said in a thick voice. “I’ve loved you for a while now and nothing you do, not even stealing my bloody secret code and nearly getting both of us killed, can change how I feel. There is nothing that could make me stop loving you.”

“Drake,” she gasped in wonder, not quite sure how it was possible he was saying such words.

“So you’re stuck with me, you see, whether you want to be or not. This Englishman loves you, and he isn’t leaving France without you by his side. You and your whole family are coming with me, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

An incredulous laugh escaped her lips. “As you command, my lord, since I wouldn’t dream of objecting.”

“I should think not,” he said with all the hauteur of a born aristocrat before he ruined the effect with a smile.

She paused, a tiny bit of the blissful fog in which she’d been drifting, melting away. “What about your government? Might they not object to letting me go without exacting some kind of retribution for my spying?”

“The cipher is in our possession so there’s no harm done. Besides, they need my testimony to proceed against you, and they won’t have it.”

“They could compel it, could they not?” she asked, still concerned.

He shook his head. “Not if I’m your husband, or aren’t you aware that spouses cannot be forced to testify against one another?”

Her heart thudded like a hammer beneath her ribs. “Spouses? As in married? To each other? But—”

“But what?” He gave her a penetrating look. “What did you think I meant when I said come back to England with me?”

“I just assumed . . . that is . . . since you asked before . . . I thought that . . . that—”

“That?” he prompted.

“I assumed you wanted me for your mistress.”

His eyes darkened to the color of a forest. “And you would have said yes this time?”

She nodded. “A part of me wanted to say yes before, but I couldn’t, not with everything going on—”

He kissed her again, long and deep, so that she could barely catch her breath when he finally let her come up for air again.

“You’ll be my wife,” he told her. “I already bought the ring. It’s waiting back in Audley Street.”

Her heart startled with another shock. “You mean you wanted to marry me before I left England?”

“I did.” His expression grew deeply serious, as if he were already taking a vow. “I do.”

She tightened her arms around him. “Oh, Drake.
Je t’aime.
”

“Don’t ‘oh, Drake’ me. Just say yes.”

She laughed, holding back a groan at the ache it caused in her head. “Yes!
Oui!
I will be your wife if you’re certain you want me.”

“Didn’t I already say you’re the only woman I want?”

She nodded, remembering.

“Now,” he said with clear satisfaction, “I think we should get off this damned cliff and go back home.”

Nodding again, she let him help her to her feet.

N
early an hour later they arrived at the cottage, Sebastianne grateful for the supporting comfort of Drake’s arm around her waist. He’d offered to carry her since her head and bruised face still ached from the blow she’d suffered, but she’d refused.

“Papa and the boys will be alarmed enough seeing me like this,” she’d told him. “Only imagine what they’ll think if you carry me inside like an invalid. I can walk.”

Sebastianne could tell he’d wanted to argue, and although he made no complaint, she knew he was hurting too from the struggle at the top of the cliff. She knew it would be better for Drake if she returned on her own two feet.

Before beginning their journey back, however, they had stopped at the base of the cliff where Vacheau’s broken body lay a few yards distant. Not wanting to see him up close, Sebastianne had perched on a conveniently located rock while Drake went on alone. They needed the cipher, and the writ, and unfortunately both were inside Vacheau’s coat pocket.

“Should I bury him?” Drake had asked her, as she settled on the rock. “I could come back tonight with a shovel and do the job.”

Sebastianne shook her head. “No, I think it would be better if we just leave him. Someone will find the body soon, and they’ll assume it was an accident. They’ll think he was climbing the cliffs and slipped, which in a way is exactly what happened.”

After a bit more discussion, Drake agreed. Why risk suspicion regarding the true circumstances of Vacheau’s death? Why take the chance that someone would know they had been involved?

Once Drake had retrieved the papers and the pistols Vacheau had dropped, he rejoined her, and with his arm looped supportively around her waist, they walked home.

They were still coming up the path when Julien raced toward them. “What happened? Are you all right?” he said in quick, voluble French. “Sebastianne, you’re hurt. Was it that man? Where is he?”

Drake shared a look with Julien that struck Sebastianne as being very adult. “Your sister has been through a terrible ordeal today, but she will heal and be well. As for the man, let us just say that he won’t be bothering us again, any of us.”

Julien nodded, an expression of relief crossing his face that made Sebastianne wonder once again just how much he knew about Vacheau and the cipher.

Before she had time to ask, he went on, “There’s something you should know, Monsieur Drake. Two men are here. They . . . um . . . they are waiting in the house. I tried, but I couldn’t convince them to go away.” Julien’s jaw grew stiff with irritation.

As for Sebastianne, her chest tightened, her nerves stretching tight again.

Drake scowled. “What men?”

“I don’t know. They said they know you though. Told me they would wait.”

Instinctively, Drake withdrew his gun from his pocket, then exchanged a pointed glance with her. “You and Julien wait here,” he said quietly. “I’ll go ahead.”

“No, I’m not letting you go in there alone,” she argued.

“Yes, you will,” he stated in a tone that forbade further discussion. “Julien, look after your sister. Where are Luc and your father by the way?”

He made a face. “Having wine and cheese in the kitchen with those men as if we always entertain uninvited guests. Papa is telling them stories!”

“Good. Then they’ll be relaxed and distracted when I go inside.”

“Be careful,” Sebastianne said.

“I will,” he told her, leaning down to kiss her firmly on the lips, in spite of her brother’s wide-eyed interest.

Stealthfully, Drake approached the house.

“W
hoever you are, turn around slowly,” Drake ordered as he burst through the door, pistol at the ready.

One dark golden head twisted around, followed by another, two sets of hazel eyes fixing on him in surprise. “Well, hallo, Drake,” drawled the first man. “I certainly hope you’re not planning on using that on one of us.”

“No,” remarked the second. “Shabby way to greet one’s brothers, I dare say.”

With an owl-eyed Luc and a surprised Monsieur Calvière looking on, Drake lowered the pistol to his side. “
Leo? Lawrence?
What in the bloody hell are you doing here?”

Identical grins broke out on his brothers’ faces.

“Came to help, of course,” Leo said.

“Thought you might need a hand,” Lawrence offered. “We overheard Ned and Cade talking about how you’d raced off to France on some secret mission and that they planned to follow you.”

“So we offered to go in their stead,” Leo continued.

“And they let you?” Drake asked skeptically.

The twins traded looks. “Yes, once they realized we were the most logical choice.”

Drake crossed his arms. “And what made them decide that?”

Lawrence smirked. “I believe it had something to do with maintaining domestic harmony and their complete inability to figure out how to sneak off without Claire and Meg finding out what they were up to.”

“Being murdered in their beds by our sisters-in-law was mentioned a time or two, as I recall.” Leo rose from his chair. “So, we volunteered.”

Drake put his gun away. “You needn’t have bothered. I have matters well in hand.”

“Do you?” they said together. “We thought perhaps you could use a bit of help getting back out of the country.”

“I suppose I could at that since our party seems to keep increasing.” He sent them a pointed glance. “But we can work that out later. What I want to know is how you found me? I took great care not to leave a trail.”

The twins shared another smile. “You may have been careful, but we’re good at chatting up the right people.”

“The right people?” Drake asked. “Who are those?”

“Barmaids,” Lawrence proffered.

Leo nodded. “They notice everything and everyone. Pass them a bit of coin and few other choice favors, and they’ll tell a man anything.”

“At least us, anyway,” Lawrence concluded.

Luc stared between the two, clearly intrigued by the advice. Drake knew he would have to separate the boy from the twins in the future.
Bad influences. Very bad.

“Just a minute, and I’ll be back,” Drake said, striding to the door and back out the way he’d come.

By the time he returned with Sebastianne and Julien, the twins and Monsieur Calvière were laughing, while young Luc sat happily eating his way through a plate of cheese.