The Duchess and the Spy (20 page)

“You were silly to have wandered off with that strange man.” She certainly didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Strange man. Why of all of the detestable nerve! The man was even stupider than she had thought.

“He wasn’t a strange man, you lack wit. He was the man that you had assigned as my guard. Honestly, Christopher, you are giving me a headache the size of the colonies!”

“Yes, well we found your true guard a short distance away from Gladys. He had been put into the bushes.”

This was too much for her to handle. She took a tremulous breath. “Is he unharmed?” Suddenly, she wanted to get as far away from him as was possible. She walked away from him, only stopping to pick up a seashell. She inspected it, considered pelting it at him before she dropped it back onto the sand.

“No. He was found with a dagger shoved through him. They killed him. That is why you are such a silly girl. You could have been killed today and then what would I have done?” His voice was strained, and though she was tempted to turn back to him, and give him a row, she didn’t want him any sorer with her than he already was.

It had to end. The suffering had to end, and she was the only one that knew how to accomplish that nearly impossible feat. “I would like to write to his family.” Finally she turned to face him. She stared down in consternation at her feet, as her foot scraped against something rough. In the confusion, she had somehow lost one of her slippers.

“You can’t.”

Sighing, she asked, “Why can’t I?”

“He has no family to write to.”

“I see,” she murmured, was all that she could say without breaking down and crying in front of a man that definitely didn’t need to see her in such a vulnerable state. She was death. Everyone that got too close to her—met the same fate, death.

“Travis knew what he was getting himself into when he joined the service. The work is usually dangerous, and not everyone comes home. But he will be mourned by the friends that he has made.”

“Take me home to Wisteria House.” She was bone tired. Without realizing what she was doing, she placed her hand against his shoulder.

She gasped when he gave her a soul searching look. “I believe that you will make me a good wife, as long as I can endeavor to trust you.” His midnight blue eyes, glittered, and her heart sank. If only they were filled with a love that was meant for her alone.

“And I believe that you will make me a hateful husband, and,” she paused. “You might not become my husband. We shall see how it will all end once we reach London.”

Isabella awoke the next morning to find out from Jason that Christopher had been called back to London and that he had set off without them. To add insult to injury, he had told her that Christopher would procure their special license while there. There would be no way for her to slip out of this wedding now, and in a way, she wasn’t sorry for it. Being married to the man would simplify things for her, and she would have to spend most of her time with him over her family and that didn’t make her sad because she didn’t want to see her family in any sort of peril because of her.

Her heart sank, and she and Maria went about trying to find something suitable for her to wear. Maria had given her the wedding dress she’d married Theo in, and while it wasn’t as fashionable as what she was accustomed to wearing, she took it with gladness in her heart for Maria believed she was giving her a most cherished possession.

The days flew by and she was having such fun with Jason, Maria and Theo that she had almost forgotten her impending nuptials and the fact that Christopher would return. When she saw him riding back into town, her heart did a little jump in her chest, and she sighed. Mayhap, being married to him wouldn’t be as bad as she’d originally believed, for tomorrow would be her wedding day.

****

Isabella heard the gentle rapping on her door, and moaned, as she turned over in the small bed, pulling her plump pillow halfway over her face. It was too early to get up, and blast it, she was still tired. She closed her eyes again, and was just about to doze off again, when she heard the door cautiously creep open.

“Your Grace,” Maria, softly called out, tiptoeing into the room. “Isabella, wake up.”

“Oh, do go away, I wish to sleep a little longer.” Isabella closed her eyes, again and daintily muffled a yawn. She stretched her legs languidly through the sheets.

“Oh, you haven’t forgotten the day have you? Pray forgive me, but it is half past seven in the morning, and you will be married shortly.”

“No, I won’t,” she murmured, as she let a huge yawn escape her. She scratched her nose, and then rubbed at the sleep in her eyes. Finally waking up, she considered Maria’s words. She bolted upright and stared incredulously over at Maria. “I can’t marry him. I barely know him, and he despises me.”

“Oh, but you must. Whatever would Jason say if he found out that you were going to be disobedient?” Maria placed the fresh white towels she was carrying onto the mahogany dresser.

“Blast him.” Isabella had made her decision. Nothing, not even her furious cousin could drag her to the altar. Christopher could not become her husband. She fluffed the pillow up behind her so that she could lean against it. She sneezed, and then placed her finger to her temple, as her breathing became laboured. “I feel quite ill. Go and tell the two village idiots that I am too sick to be married today. Upon my word, I do not even believe that I can pull myself out of bed.” Even though she was making a mountain out of a molehill, she did feel a bit poorly. It had to be the emotional upheaval of the last few days. Too much had happened to her to expect otherwise. Perhaps, her health was even being affected because she’d lost a part of what made her the woman she was. She’d lost her gift, and she didn’t know if it would ever return.

Seemingly worried, Maria settled herself onto the side of the bed, and reached out to feel Isabella’s forehead. “You do not seem warm,” Maria wrinkled her brow. “I shall fetch Theo. He is visiting with Lord Wyndham, at the moment but he will be most willing to come and attend to you.” Maria jumped up and began running towards the door. Isabella was so tired, that she was only half-heartedly listening to Maria.

“You do that, yes, indeed,” she yawned, closed her eyes, and immediately fell back asleep.

Isabella heard the infernal pounding, and placed her pillow over her head again in an attempt to drown out the hideous noise. What did a woman have to do to get her beauty sleep? It was impossible! In France she rarely rose before noon, and even then she sometimes awoke with a headache. She heard the door being flung open and assumed that it was Maria returning. She heard an oddly familiar male voice issuing out another one of his confounded orders, and wonders of wonders, Maria and her husband were actually going to obey them. She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Return my powers to me now, and I promise I’ll use them to rid myself of a rapscallion.”

She pretended that she was asleep, and prayed that he wasn’t so ill bred as to not leave her alone. She groaned when she felt him approaching the bed, and surprisingly that one sleight on her part was the one thing that gave her away.

“Get up you little chit! Do you realize that you have Maria quite at her wits end, because she believes that you are deathly ill? If this is another one of your humourless attempts to avoid marriage to me, then you will find that I am not amused.” He made the bed creak and groan as he settled his weight upon it, and Isabella stiffened visibly, as she felt him gently touch her shoulder. He pulled her into a sitting position, before she even knew what had happened, and was kissing her before her mind had enough time to realize what was happening. She struggled against him, and sighed, as she felt him invade her warmth.

His kisses tempted her into dangerous territory. She wanted more of them, she wanted him to do things to her that would drive her mad with desire. She whimpered as she tightened her hold on him, and heard him chuckle in the back of his throat. She heard him chuckle at the same time as she heard the door creaking open. Swallowing thickly, her eyes rested on Maria and Theo. The man had trapped her. Why he was definitely in for it now!

“You want me now, very badly, I would wager,” he whispered, as his voice taunted and teased her. “And you do not fool me, my darling. You are no sicker than I, though in hindsight, I confess that you may be lovesick.” He mouth slanted into a cheeky grin, as he riveted his stormy eyes on her.

“You despicable cad, what do you think that you are doing?” she tried to ease him away from her. But he was rock solid and would not be deterred. “Answer me, you libertine! What the bloody hell, do you think that you doing?” Now he’d trapped her into marriage, she would have to marry him no matter what. In her heart of hearts, she knew that he was compromising her so that she would have no choice but to become his wife. She admired his determination, but wondered why he would want her, when he seemed to despise her.

“I do believe my darling, that I am truthfully compromising you. You shall have to wait for the full excessive treatment, until tonight.” She slammed her fists down on the yellow pastel quilt that covered her bed. “I do believe, Theo, that the Duchess will not be requiring your services. She seems quite hearty and hale to me.”

“You insufferable bastard!” she cried out, as he swaggered out of the room, leaving a very confused Maria in his wake.

“Your Grace, I do believe that he is quite in love with you. Or else he would not be so swift to maintain the marriage bargain. It gives me great joy to see that he actually does indeed deserve you. He is a wonderful man, why he cares a great deal about you. When he discovered that you were feeling quite ill, he came up here straightaway so that he could be by your side to give you comfort,” Maria’s voice was wistful, and Isabella gasped when she opened a window.

“You mean to give me torment!” she wrinkled her nose. He had unnerved her to her core, and he had proved that he had wielded a certain amount of power over her.

“Well, I daresay that we have been idle long enough. You need to get yourself dressed, as do I. Your hair I should think shall take a good amount of time. The curls are beautiful, but I shall freshly wash it, for I will ask Gladys to draw a bath for you.” Maria beamed over at her, as she opened the closet and pulled out the necessary toiletries. “I have some very nice perfume for you to wear, and I have some flowers that I thought would possibly go nicely in your hair. I snipped off some roses this morning and arranged a nice bouquet for you. I truly regret the fact that I cannot provide you with the lavish wedding that you probably desire, but alas, I am but a simple country’s doctor’s wife. But I do suppose that I would not have it any other way. I have known Theo since I was a young girl, and I have seen the very best in him, and the very worst, and I realize that I am quite capable of dealing with both. You mustn’t look upon your marriage with complete dislike or you will be miserable for the rest of your life.”

“I have to keep remembering the fact that I did know Christopher when I was younger and that back then he wasn’t as wretched as he is now. We share a delightful cousin, and that increases our bond,” she sighed, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She slipped her feet into the waiting slippers and walked over to the small rosewood dressing table. Shivering, she quickly reached for the white shawl that was draped across the chair. She wrapped it around herself and sat on the small cushioned window seat. It too was a pale yellow, and everything else in the room seemed to match the décor perfectly. Right down to the country painting that was hanging on the west wall. This room had served her well for several days and nights and she would be a little sad to leave it.

“You must speak of Lord Jason,” Maria murmured, coming over and standing by her. She sighed, Jason had the courtesy title of Viscount Melrose, but he’d obviously failed to give this information to Maria as he liked to be informal with friends going by Lord Jason, Jason or just Elphinstone. Wyndham, on the other hand, liked everyone to use the proper forms of address—he was quite a stickler for that.

“Indeed I do not. Jason is not related to Christopher in any such manner. He is but a true friend to the man. No, the man that I am referring to is the eldest child of my Aunt Mary, his name is William. She is the dearest lady, and has raised her son to be a generous and gallant man. He is the best of confidants, and I was hoping to make it to London so that I would be able to discuss my problems with him. He has knowledge of such matters, and I believed that he would be able to give the advice that I so required.” She flinched as longing crept into her voice. Will was the only man that she could truly place her faith in. He was the most delightful man on the face of the earth, and she wondered why he hadn’t come to collect her and take her away from Christopher. Will had the best sense of humour and he had a reserved, dignified personality, so different from Christopher that she’d find him to be a refreshing change.

“You have such a heavy heart, my dear. Pray forget about your troubles for one day, and enjoy your wedding day, for I daresay that you will only be getting one in your lifetime,” Maria sighed, tucking a stray lock of hair back up into her cap.

“To be sure that may not be the case,” Isabella whispered, as her voice strained. “He may want to annul me, or perhaps I will simply runaway.” She reached for the silver hand mirror, and began inspecting the lines of fatigue that etched below her eyes.

“Oh, do not speak of such rubbish,” Maria snorted. “You are too loyal to think of such things. You would be breaking a sacred vow if you did that, and if there is one thing that I can tell, I realize that you are a woman of your word. So pray oblige me, and come and take your bath.”

Isabella did oblige Maria, and she was thankful for Gladys and Maria’s assistance in washing her hair and scrubbing her back. Bathing was such a nuisance to have to do on one’s own, and she realized with a lump in her throat how very much she depended upon Daphne.

Dearest Daphne, she would love to see her be married. She had always talked endlessly about her future nuptials. And because of her, Daphne was trapped in France facing her death, if she did not rescue her, and accomplish the impossible feat that Napoleon had entrusted her with. She hated her uncle and she hated Napoleon, but how could she help Daphne without helping the two bastards that she hated the most in the entire world? Which one should she choose to trust?

It was a high stake game, and she needed to win or else Daphne or she would be dead. She knew that her Pierre plotted against Napoleon, and yet she could not tell to what end. She suspected that he wished to assume Napoleon’s place as Emperor but realized that this was a foolish aspiration indeed. If he was discovered he would be sentenced to death, but she had no true evidence against him, and it would have simply been her word against her Pierre, and as of now Napoleon adored her him, and always kept a close correspondence with him.

Frowning, she stared at her freckles in the mirror, and smiled, as Maria combed out her hair and ran her fingers through the crimson tresses.

“You have beautiful hair,” she breathed enviously. “It is absolutely exquisite. Ah, but I shall love dressing your hair we will keep it as simple as possible with perhaps a few flower petals scattered throughout it. And this bonnet shall look glorious on you. Afterwards, at the wedding feast you will be able to remove the bonnet, since your hair is so gorgeous.”

“Christopher shall be struck down,” Isabella said in jest, laughing gaily, momentarily forgetting all of her cares.

“Oh, but he shall. He will not know what to do. I almost forgot. Someone sent this note to me and I placed it in one of my, ah, yes here it is,” she declared, brandishing a letter. “It was given to me to give to you. Make haste and read it, for I scarcely know how we will be ready in time. We must have you to the church on time. You must be married before noon. A happy day, indeed,” Maria murmured, placing the last pin in her hair. “We had no need to curl or primp it, for the body is already there, simply beautiful.” She breathed gazing upon her masterpiece. “I shall leave you now, and go and get my dress on. Then we shall slip your dress onto you, so that you will not wrinkle it. You shall be a very beautiful bride.”