The Deception (39 page)

“Take a step back. That’s right. Now sit down in that chair.” Edgerton sat.

Edmund tugged at Evangeline’s hand. “You’re all right, Eve? He didn’t hurt you? Oh, goodness, look at your jaw. He hit you.” Edmund suddenly got a look on his face that mirrored his father’s. He rushed at Edgerton and slammed his fists into his chest. Edgerton tried to grab him and Mr. Bullock shouted, “Lord Edmund, get back now!”

Edmund jumped back before Edgerton could grab him.

“Edmund,” Evangeline said very calmly, very quietly, “come here, love, and help me. I’m not feeling very well right now. I stood up too quickly. I’m not
sure I can remain standing up without your assistance. Yes, come here. That’s right. Now, let’s have you help me stand here all straight and tall and face this awful man who would have hurt us.”

Once Edmund was safely beside her again, Evangeline felt both immeasurably better, and immeasurably mean. She wanted to leap on Edgerton herself and strangle the life out of him. She felt Edmund take her hand.

“Mr. Bullock,” she said, “thank you, sir, for being alert. Now, shall we tie this bastard up? Or perhaps can you give me your gun and I can shoot him?”

“Let’s shoot him, Mr. Bullock,” Edmund said, standing there with his nightshirt flapping around his ankles, his hair, black and thick as his father’s, sticking up around his head. “He’s a bad man. He hurt Eve. Yes, I want to shoot him like I would a highwayman. I’ll get my gun.” Edmund dashed back into his bedchamber, ran to his bed, reached under his pillow and pulled out his wooden gun. He was back into the nursery, aiming it directly at Edgerton.

Evangeline laughed, actually laughed. “You see his toy gun? It was a gift from me upon my arrival here at Chesleigh. You recall who procured it for him, do you not?”

Edgerton looked at her with such dull hatred in his eyes that she nearly yelled with the pleasure of it. “Nothing matters now except that you’ll no longer be in our lives. You’ve lost, sir. Finally, you’ve lost.” “Conan DeWitt was right about you,” he said. “Oh, yes, indeed he was,” Evangeline said. “But you know, truth be told, it was you yourself who brought the whole thing to an end.” “Impossible,” Sir John Edgerton said.

She just smiled at him. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Oh, yes.”

“Now, missus,” Mr. Bullock said to Evangeline, “it’s time fer me to tie this feller up real tight.”

“Allow me, Mr. Bullock.” Evangeline said. “Edmund, keep your gun pointed at him while I tie him to that chair.”

When the duke, Drew, and six soldiers arrived four hours later, the duked was so frantic, he nearly crashed through the front door. He was met by a smiling Evangeline, and his son holding his toy gun, his small face wreathed as well in smiles. The duke, so relieved that she and his son were safe, drew them both up against him and simply wouldn’t let them go until Edmund said, “Papa, my ribs are bent inside out. Goodness, Eve and I are heroes. We let Mr. Bullock help us, too.” The duke released his son. “What happened here?” “Papa, come with Eve and me. We’ve got a surprise for you. It’s almost better than my gun. Come, Papa.” The duke and Drew Halsey followed Evangeline and Edmund into the library, where Mr. Bullock stood beside a seated John Edgerton, his gun pointed at Edgerton’s head. “I didn’t want to take a chance,” Mr. Bullock said. “This fellow’s a shifty worm.” He grinned widely and stepped back. John Edgerton was all trussed up, his face pale with fury. Thankfully, he was blessedly gagged.

“It’s over,” Evangeline said, and walked to the duke and wrapped her arms around his back. “It’s over. We won.”

“Tell me,” the duke said, and she did, with Mr. Bullock and Edmund weaving in and out, some of
their details, Edmund’s primarily, not all that valuable or pertinent, but it didn’t matter.

As for Drew and the duke, they’d gone to Edgerton’s house to put their plan into action, only to find him gone. “I can’t recall ever being quite so scared,” the duke said. “Someone warned him in the nick of time. I died a thousand deaths between London and here.” He shook his head and hugged Edmund so tightly that his son squeaked. “Dear God, at least we’ve got him and it’s over now.”

“Yes, all of it,” Drew said. “I even found that envelope you put in my office, Evangeline. Jesus, it made me a perfectly placed traitor. As for the journal you kept, a lot of the damage can now be undone. My men are tracking down all the spies. We’ll be clean of them before the end of the day.”

She was afraid to ask, but she had to. “My father? Is there any chance at all that he’ll survive this?”

“We will send a message shortly to Paris. We believe that Napoleon will trade your father for Edgerton. As the duke told you, Napoleon is loyal to those who are loyal to him. Ah, as for yourself, my dear ma’am, the duke assures me that once you’re married to him, you won’t have time for any more visits to the beach at midnight.”

“I’m pleased you can now speak to her without swallowing your tongue, Drew,” the duke said, and buffeted his friend in his arm. “She doesn’t bite, usually.”

“She’s bitten you, Papa?” Edmund wanted to know, staring at Evangeline with undisguised awe.

“Only in situations where she’s so mad at me she’s lost all her words, Edmund.”

Drew Halsey, Lord Pettigrew, stared at Evangeline, who was leaning into the duke, a vivid smile on her
face, and just shook his head. “Life,” he said after looking deeply into a snifter of brandy, “is sometimes stranger than a man’s wildest nightmares.”

“I’m not quite certain how to receive that proclamation,” Evangeline said, and laughed, even as the duke leaned down to kiss her. “Forget Drew,” he said into her mouth, “I never have wild nightmares.”

“Is she going to bite you for nuzzling her, Papa?” “I pray she’ll do no biting at all until much later,” the duke said. Drew coughed behind his hand. Edgerton had closed his eyes, Mr. Bullock hovering over him, his gun at the ready.

Two hours later, the duke, Drew Halsey, and their soldiers escorted Edgerton back to London. “When will Papa come back, Eve?” “Very soon, Edmund. Probably by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. Trust me that he didn’t want to leave, but it seems there are more matters he had to attend to in London before he can come back to us.” “I saw him kissing you again, not just talking into your mouth,” Edmund said, and he was frowning. “He wasn’t patting your back like he sometimes does to me. No, he was rubbing your back, up and down and up again. He looked really interested in what he was doing.”

“Well, yes,” she said. “I suppose he was rather absorbed in what he was doing. Actually, I’m rather fond of both you and your papa as well.”

“I didn’t know you bit my papa, too. I never thought about anybody biting anybody else. Fancy that both you and Papa do it. Once I saw him bite your ear and you stretched your neck up so he could bite you better. Why he’d want to bite your ear?”

She came down on her knees in front of him. She looked into his beloved face, and lightly laid her hand on his shoulder. “Do you like to have me here, Edmund?”

“Yes,” he said clearly. “I like to chase you.” So did his father, she wanted to tell him, but caught herself just in time. “I like you to chase me, too. Getting shot is sometimes disconcerting, but I’ll manage it well enough.”

“You’re going to stay here with me? You’ll teach me how to swim better than Papa?”

“Yes,” she said, “I’m staying. When your papa gets back from London, we’ll all talk about it.”

“I’m going to go shoot a peacock and when he’s lying there dead, I’ll bite him.”

“You’d get feathers in your mouth. That wouldn’t be fun at all. Ellen would have to wash your mouth out. No, you wouldn’t like that, Edmund.”

“All right,” Edmund said, nodding. He turned to run back up the stairs. “I’ll go bite Ellen.”

Lucky Ellen, Evangeline thought, watching Edmund run upstairs. Even after he was gone she continued to stand in the magnificent entrance hall, shaking her head, grinning like a loon, so relieved, so happy, she thought her heart would surely burst.

I
t was the following morning. The sun was bright, the breeze off the sea tangy and light. It would be a mild day. Evangeline was whistling as she walked from the breakfast room to the drawing room.

“Madame,” Bassick said. “There’s a gentleman here. He says the duke sent him to you.”

She nearly ran to the drawing room, a smile on her face. “Thank you, Bassick,” she called over her shoulder. “Close the door.”

She stood frozen in the doorway, staring at Conan DeWitt. He was pointing a gun directly at her. “Close the door, or else I’ll kill that old man standing out there. Do it now.”

She closed the door. Slowly she turned to face him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’d like to tell you that I’m Edgerton’s emissary here to inform you that the bloody duke is dead. Unfortunately, it isn’t true. They’ve got Edgerton. I believe, thanks to you, Eagle, they’ve got all the men who have come into England through you as well. I got away. The same men who warned Edgerton that Lord Pettigrew and his men were here at Chesleigh
also told me. If he’d waited even an hour longer, I would have been caught with all the rest.”

“Why did you come here? Surely you know that they’re looking for you?”

“Let them look to Scotland, they’ll not find me. I told John not to trust you. I warned him repeatedly, but he wanted you, you see. What’s more, he wanted you in his power, so that what you were, what you would become, would all be in his hands. He was a fool as well because he’d convinced himself that his hold on you was strong enough to keep you in line. But still, regardless of whatever it was he was holding over you, I still knew you would betray us.”

“Actually, it was because of Edgerton’s actions that everything fell apart for you. Because he strangled poor Mrs. Needle, he set events in motion for his downfall, yours as well. You see, the duke had a Bow Street Runner come with him to help find out who had murdered her. The night before the duke and I returned to London, I met a man on the beach at midnight. The Bow Street Runner saw everything and told the duke. Evidently, he didn’t realize that I wasn’t a man, what with the long cloak I always wore. I didn’t betray you. Edgerton himself did you all in.”

“No,” DeWitt said. “No, you’re twisting things.” He walked to her. She could hear his furious breathing. “Oh, yes,” he said, very close to her, “I’ll go back to France, but I’m not going back alone. I know you’ve told them everything you know. I’m taking you back with me to Houchard himself. He will kill you, and I will smile when he does it.

“You’re an excellent hostage. Don’t do anything foolish. You’re not worth much more to me alive than dead.”

At least Edmund was safe. Thank God, only Edgerton
had known of his threat to Edmund. She had no doubt at all that if DeWitt had known, he would try to kill Edmund. She’d won and she’d lost. But it wasn’t over yet. As long as she was alive, it wasn’t over.

The duke jumped down from his curricle, threw the reins to Juniper, and strode up the great stone steps. He shoved open the great front doors of Chesleigh castle and shouted her name.

“Your grace, what are you doing here? I don’t understand this. The gentleman you sent is here now, telling Madame of your delay and—”

“Bassick, what man?” He grabbed the butler’s arms and shook him. “Quickly, Bassick. What man? What delay? What’s going on here? Where’s Madame?”

“She’s in the drawing room, your grace, with the gentleman you sent to see her. I’ll inform her of your early arrival.”

“God in heaven, I sent no man!” He didn’t wait for Bassick to reply. He rushed through the entrance hall and flung the drawing room doors open. He saw a heavy brocade curtain lifting slightly in the breeze through an open window. The room was empty.

He strode back into the corridor, a knot of fear twisting in his belly, and nearly collided with Bassick. “Who was the man?”

Bassick, like every denizen of Chesleigh, knew that French spies had been caught doing their shady deeds in the Chesleigh cove. He as well as everyone else knew that Madame was somehow involved, but no one knew exactly what the facts were. But now something horrible was happening. “He said his name was Ferguson, your grace.” The duke cursed. “What did he look like? Quickly,
Bassick, can you remember anything at all about him?”

“He wasn’t much older than you, your grace. A pleasant gentleman he seemed, and a large man. A mole, your grace, yes, there was a large mole on his cheek. Oh, dear, the man wasn’t named Ferguson?”

“No,” the duke said. “It’s Conan DeWitt, a very bad man, Bassick. Get all the men together. He’s taken Madame. Quickly, Bassick.”

He was running to the library to get a brace of pistols, when he called over his shoulder, “Was he in a carriage, Bassick? A horse? What?”

“He was riding a horse, your grace. Yes, that’s right, there was no carriage.”

Once the duke had his two loaded guns, he headed toward the stables. DeWitt had come either to kill her or to take her with him to France as a hostage. He couldn’t very well expect to get far if he held Evangeline before him on his horse. He’d have to have another horse. Then he’d have to get her to Eastbourne. It was the closest town to catch a ship to France.

Trevlin was sitting on his haunches at the stable entrance, mending a bridle. “Trevlin, have you seen Madame?” “Yes, your grace,” Trevlin said, scratching his left ear. Then he sensed the urgency in the duke’s voice and jumped to his feet. “I wondered. Yes, I wondered what she was doing with him. She’s with a man, your grace. They were walking toward the cliff, right over the cove.”

The duke heard a half dozen men running toward them. He shouted over his shoulder even as he sprinted away from Trevlin, who threw the bridle to the ground to join in the chase, “He’s taken her to the cliffs.” He rounded the rear of the stables, ran
down the rutted path, men at his heels trying to keep up with him. DeWitt had a boat waiting.

The duke was some thirty yards distant from the cliffs when he heard Evangeline’s terrified scream, and then a thin, wailing yell.

The duke didn’t stop. Blood pounded at his temples, and his breath sounded like thunder in his ears. He was afraid to think of what that scream meant. The rocky terrain sloped upward to the cliff edge, and he saw her locked in Conan DeWitt’s arms. He was pulling her toward the cliff. There was no horse in sight. Dear God, he was going to kill both of them.