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"No, I refuse to remember because I'm rather angry with you at the moment. If I admit to remembering, then you'll tease me endlessly. You'll remind me over and over that I enjoyed you touching me, kissing me, oh, dear. My tongue is moving again. I will change my tongue's direction. I can do it. Now, I don't wish to hear about all your mistresses."
He arched a dark eyebrow at that. "But you brought it up, Evangeline. I was just trying to explain matters to you." She was red in the face. He wanted very much to catch her up against him, perhaps whirl her about, then slowly bring her down the front of him, then kiss her until she was silly with it. He drew a deep breath. It was enough. It was too much. After a few moments he managed to remember something to say that wouldn't draw her, that wouldn't have her calling him an a.s.s, that should, in fact, please her. "Now as I recall, we began dinner with me telling you about how Bunyon shows me his displeasure."
"Very well. You wish to change the topic. It is probably wise of you. I am calm now. What did Bunyon do?"
"He threatened to strangle me with my cravat." "Goodness. Why did he do that?" The duke swirled the deep red Burgundy wine about in the crystal wine gla.s.s. "He doesn't think I should leave you here. In charge of Edmund. Quite alone, in charge of Edmund."
She didn't like where this could be heading. "I don't understand." Surely he wouldn't particularly care what his valet had to say, would he? "Bunyon believes that Edmund is old enough to accompany me to London. He also believes he's old enough to have a male tutor. He doesn't believe that you should allow Edmund to shoot you in order to have him learn his letters. In short, he believes you're far too kind and far too young to have my strong-willed son in your charge."
She felt panic well up inside her. Oh, no, this couldn't be. She sat forward. "But if you take Edmund with you to London, there would be no reason for me to stay at Chesleigh."
"That's true enough. Therefore, Evangeline, both you and Edmund will come with me to London tomorrow. There's no need to wait until Friday."
"No!"
He blinked. She was both pale and flushed at the same time, half standing, her palms flat on the table. He arched a black eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"
"It was but one word. Surely you can understand one word. I yelled it, after all." This couldn't be happening. She couldn't leave Chesleigh, she couldn't. Bunyon had done her in and all for the most n.o.ble of motives. What was she to do now? She was to meet John Edgerton in just under two hours. She'd been told in no uncertain terms that she was to remain at Chesleigh. Houchard would kill her father.
"Perhaps," he said slowly, "you'd best explain that simple one word to me, Evangeline. That simple one word that you yelled so loudly you nearly brought the chandelier down."
She was desperate, but she couldn't let him see that. It wouldn't make sense to him. "I didn't mean to scream it at you. It's just that I don't want to go to London. Please, your grace, let me stay here. I can deal well with Edmund. I won't fail you. He doesn't need a male tutor. I don't care if he tries to shoot me. I shan't allow him to shoot me unless and until he manages to catch me. I'm not slow. It will be difficult for him. I must make it difficult for him so that he will have a challenge. I know how to deal with little boys. Please, I must stay, I must." "You have said quite a lot there, Evangeline." "I know and I'm sorry. But what I really want is to remain here at Chesleigh, with Edmund. I won't fail you, your grace. He will be reading the family Bible within a month. I will have him write you a letter every day, and each letter will be at least one sentence longer than the last one. Please, your grace."
This was all very strange. Why should she care about remaining here or going to London? Surely anyone would prefer London. He didn't understand her at all. Her reaction was extreme. Not natural. He'd honestly believed her initial refusal to go to London the result of her embarra.s.sment at thrusting herself, a poor relation, upon his mother. He had actually felt pleased at his decision, for he realized that despite his thinking of the night before, he did want to take her to London, to show her the sights and introduce her to his mother. He wasn't at all certain of his intentions toward her. For G.o.d's sake, he'd only known her for two days. But he did know that he'd never met a woman like her before, that she fascinated him, that he wanted her more than any female who'd ever come into his...o...b..t. She appealed to his senses, all of them. And the l.u.s.t, dear G.o.d, the l.u.s.t she evoked so effortlessly in him.
To put a better face on it, he reminded himself that he didn't want her to stay by herself at Chesleigh, her only companion his young son. And, he admitted to himself, although it was difficult to do, he didn't like having anyone go against his wishes, particularly when they were benign, well thought out, and really quite nice.
"I would worry about you," he said finally. "No, I won't allow it. Both you and Edmund will come with me to London tomorrow."
She was desperate. She'd pleaded with him, and it hadn't worked. She drew a deep breath and said in a cold voice, "I see. The lord's orders. Well, your grace, if you won't allow me to remain at Chesleigh, with Edmund, then I must leave. I won't go to London." "You don't have anyplace else to go. Of course you will do as I tell you."
"You've become a blockhead, your grace. It no longer will concern you where I go or what I do."
He rose, facing her down the long expanse of table. "I've had quite enough of this, Evangeline. I don't know why you're being so stubborn about this. Tell me why, right now."
"I hate London. I refuse to go there." "You've never been to London." "It doesn't matter. I won't go." "Sit down and eat your dinner. You're distraught. You're becoming hysterical. It isn't appealing. I will speak to you of this later."
Evangeline didn't move a hair. "No, you will not. Listen to me, you cannot give me orders. I'm not one of your servants. However, like Bunyon, perhaps I would like to strangle you with your cravat." He was seated again, his arms folded over his chest, unmoving. "Very well," she said. "I can see from that cold, set look on your face that you won't change your mind." She tossed her napkin onto the plate.
"I bid you good-bye, your grace. It has been something of an experience, albeit a very short one." He bounded from his chair, toppling it to the carpet. "d.a.m.nation, Evangeline. You're not going anywhere. You take one step and I'll take a birch rod to you."
She laughed at him. "Go to the devil," she said, turned on her heel, and walked toward the door. She wondered if Ba.s.sick, all the footmen and all the maids, were waiting outside the door, wondering what was going to happen. She said over her shoulder, her voice cold and contemptuous, "If I had Edmund's gun, I'd shoot you."
She didn't make it. He caught her, grabbed her by the arm, and whirled her about to face him. She didn't struggle. She wasn't about to waste her strength. He was furious. She could see the pulse pounding in his throat.
He shook her, leaned close to her, and said right in her face, "You won't go anywhere. Do you understand me?"
His eyes were on her mouth. Then his eyes were on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He forgot instantly every dollop of anger at her. He couldn't bear it. He pulled her roughly against him, and cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him.
Evangeline felt suspended in time. She stared up at him, all that she felt in her eyes. He kissed her, his tongue probing against her closed lips.
"Open your mouth, d.a.m.n you."
She tasted his anger, then she tasted only him and his mad desire.
It was as if he didn't know what to do first. He kissed her, kissed her again and again. Then he pressed her back over his arm and his mouth was on her throat, her shoulders. He moaned, then jerked her beautiful altered blue gown down to her waist. He stared at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, then was on her, his mouth and tongue hot on her flesh.
She was overwhelmed.
This was pa.s.sion, she thought. It was nearly painful, this need in her that she recognized but didn't understand.
Abruptly he let her go. He stared down at her blindly, trying to control himself. He buried his face in her hair. "Oh G.o.d," he said, "I'm sorry."
She forced herself to straighten, to move away from him. She stood there in front of him, detached, naked to the waist. It was her only chance. She had to remain at Chesleigh. She had no choice.
She looked at him as if he were nothing more than a minor annoyance to her. She looked to be utterly indifferent. She said in a light, amused voice, "I begin to think, your grace, that you have gone too long without a woman. Perhaps that is why you wish me to go to London-because there is no lady currently seeing to your pleasure? Is it that you see me as only a defenseless woman, without protection, a woman who is therefore yours for the taking?"
He drew back from her as if she'd struck him. His l.u.s.t was dead; she saw only slowly building rage. She felt ill, but knew that she couldn't back down, no matter what the outcome. She wondered, stiffening, if he would strike her.
He said finally, in a voice so soft and deadly calm that she strained to hear him, "Some women are teasing b.i.t.c.hes. Is that what you are?" He added, his voice going lower, deeper. "You surprised me, I admit it.
"You may stay at Chesleigh if you wish. I will expect reports from you on Edmund's progress. I bid you good night and good-bye."
He left her standing there, her gown bunched at her waist. He didn't look back, just quietly closed the door behind him.
She stared at that closed door. She knew in that moment, simply knew that she couldn't betray him. She would tell him the truth. He would believe her. He and Lord Pettigrew would arrest John Edgerton. They would help free her father from Houchard. Surely it could be done.
It took her some time to get her gown back into place. She had to hurry. She had to tell him that she was meeting Edgerton in but an hour. They had to make plans. She ran out of the dining room, down the long corridor to the entrance hall, only to see Ba.s.sick standing at the great front doors, shaking his head.
She stopped, drawing a deep breath. "Is something wrong, Ba.s.sick?"
He looked at her standing there, shaking his head slowly, back and forth. "No, Madame, there is nothing wrong that either you or I can fix." "I don't know what you mean." "His grace," Ba.s.sick said. "He's gone. Just gone, not three minutes ago."
Chapter 19.
She nearly ran out of the castle but stopped herself. Perhaps it was better this way. She would see firsthand how the operation worked. She would have proof that Edgerton was a traitor. Then she would send a messenger to the duke.
Yes, that would work. She just had to keep her nerve with Edgerton. She couldn't allow him to suspect what she was going to do. It was difficult to wait to go to the cove, and she did sneak out of the castle early, pulling her cloak more closely about her. The summery weather had disappeared. It was cold now, not bitterly cold, but soon it would be. She walked carefully down the long path to the cove, a half-moon guiding her. When she reached the cave, she turned for a moment to look out at the sea. The waves built slowly, then tumbled gently forward, rolling over and over, like a huge bolt of cloth unfolding, until they reached the sh.o.r.e, there to lap softly over the sand, just a whisper of sound.
She didn't want to step into the frightening, dark cave. She walked to a rock near the entrance and sat down, waiting. Perhaps Edgerton wouldn't come. Perhaps he had been discovered and her father would be safe. Of course he hadn't been discovered. It was just a futile prayer. She knew she wasn't a good actress, but she had to be tonight with John Edgerton. He mustn't suspect that she was anything but obedient to him.
Tomorrow, she thought, tomorrow she would send a message to the duke. He would come back. He would help her.
She wanted to see John Edgerton in h.e.l.l.
She also felt the huge weight of guilt lifted off her.
It was getting colder. She shivered. Where was Edgerton? Perhaps she'd misunderstood his instructions, perhaps- "Good evening, Evangeline. Unlike most women, you are punctual. That pleases me and relieves me."
She whirled about, nearly falling off the rock. There was John Edgerton, silhouetted in the moonlight, standing quietly in the mouth of the cave. How long had he been there, waiting in the darkness, watching her?
She rose slowly, holding her cloak tightly fisted to her throat. "I have found that men, more often than women, are the ones who aren't punctual. Perhaps it is their desire to swagger into a room after all others are already present."
"You are very young, your experience limited, and thus your opinions are not very important. You are here. Had you been late, I might have wondered about your intentions. I didn't have a chance to tell you the other evening how delighted I am to see you again. Naturally, I would have preferred a different context for our reunion, but alas, it was not meant to be. But I digress. The next time you have occasion to visit the cave, bring a lantern. Come along now."
She watched as he set his lantern upon the cave floor and knelt to light it. He straightened toward her, his face shadowed in its dim yellowish light. "In twenty minutes you will give a signal, using the lantern." He paused, looking at her closely. "You're afraid. That's not a bad thing. It will keep you from making mistakes, mistakes that could be fatal to your dear father."
She said nothing.
"Listen to me now. You will be meeting some men at the dock. I will wait here to see that all goes well. Come now, and learn, for we haven't much time. You hesitate. This is a very big step for you. Tonight you will perform a treasonous act against England. A single act, but one that will serve our purpose. Then the die will be cast. There will be no turning back for you."
If she'd had a gun, she would have shot him with no hesitation. No regrets. Oh, yes, she would turn back. "You're a fool, Sir John. You believe this some sort of game in which you dominate me. Don't lie to yourself. You're nothing but a miserable old man.
"Houchard holds my father. You know I have no choice. All the rest of this-it's nothing more than stage settings and bad melodrama. Get on with it, d.a.m.n you."
She thought he would strike her. He raised his hand, then slowly, very slowly, he lowered his arm. "You push me, Evangeline. You believe I shall remember the girl I once wanted, the girl your miserable father refused me?"
"My father refused you nothing. I was the one who refused you."
He smiled, a terrifying smile in the gloom of the cave. "You are in my power now, Evangeline, make no mistake about that. I find your bravado somewhat amusing. I should even like to pursue this with you, but not tonight. We have more important things to do, and we must hurry."
"You're English. Why are you betraying your country?"
He shrugged, frowning down at the glowing lamp. Then he said, looking straight at her, "All of us make choices, Evangeline. I choose to a.s.sist a great man to fulfill his destiny. It is a destiny that will extend far into the future, and I will have been a part of it. But enough. I wouldn't expect you to understand. No, don't try to argue with me. We haven't much time. What we do here tonight is very serious business. Your duties will be varied, but none of them will place you in any particular danger. Your primary function will be to serve as a checkpoint. No one will be sent to me unless you have first verified that they are who they purport to be."
He drew a folded piece of paper from his cloak pocket and handed it to her. "All messages that you receive will be in this code. Only you, I, and Houchard know it. You will meet whomever you are instructed to, Evangeline, and you will examine their papers carefully. You will never clear a man until you have ensured that his instructions are authentic. Then you will write your initials at the bottom of each page to prove that you have verified the message. It is for my protection as well as for Houchard's. You and I have further protection. No one will know either your name or mine. You will be known as the eagle, L'Aigle, and I, the Lynx, le loupcervier. You are smart-study the code."
Evangeline moved close to the lantern and sank to her knees. The code was a formula subst.i.tuting numbers for letters in various combinations.
"The vowels have a separate code. You will practice the code in a few moments."
She looked up at him. "What if a man carries a message that isn't authentic?"
"If you prove this to be true, you won't do anything. You will simply direct the man to this address in London." He handed her a small visiting card. "I don't expect anyone to successfully penetrate our network, but one can't be too careful. We try to foresee all contingencies. I trust you will be quite certain that you are sending along a Bonapartist, for if you make an error, purposefully or not, I a.s.sure you it will be your last. Of course, then your father will die also, not that you'll be alive to know of it."
She held up the card. "You mean that anyone I send to this address will be murdered?"
"Naturally. Now, here is my card. The men you clear, you will send here."
"Where is the letter from my father? Houchard promised to send one to me."
"You will have your letter when the boat arrives. Along with instructions for your next a.s.signment. You will remain at Chesleigh. If there are any changes, I will send you a message. Has the duke already tried to bed you?"
"No. I don't think he cares for me at all. Indeed, he has already returned to London."
"No matter. Incidentally, you gave a fine performance the other evening. I was impressed with your abilities."
"I had no choice. The duke and Lord Pettigrew both regard you as a friend, someone they can trust." "Yes," he said, nodding. "I have worked hard for many years to earn their trust. Now, as I said, the young lady you presented was perfect in her role."
"You are quite wrong," she said, rising to face him. "I'm not a good actress. If the duke hadn't already left Chesleigh, he would probably already suspect that something is wrong. Indeed, I've been here only a short time, and already there is someone who suspects me. Mrs. Needle is a harmless old woman, but she guesses that something's not right with me. Who will be next to guess? If I am so very transparent, surely I can't be much use to you or to Houchard." "Who did you say this old woman was?" Evangeline shook her head impatiently. "It doesn't matter. It's just that she seemed to see me, to really see me. Others might do the same."
"I trust for your sake, for your dear father's sake, that you will quickly learn your trade. Women seem to have a talent for it. Not such a surprise since generally women tend to excel in deception. Surely you're no different."
"Your opinion of my s.e.x isn't very high." "Oh, I adore your s.e.x. All men do when it comes to seeing to their needs. It's just that I understand you. Not one of you can be trusted."
"Then why did you want to marry a seventeen-year-old girl if you wouldn't ever trust her?"
"For that very reason. You were very young. You hadn't had the time to perfect your woman's skills. I would have taught you, molded you to my liking." He pulled his watch from his waistcoat pocket. "It's time. Attend me carefully."
He pulled out a handkerchief, covered the lantern, and carried it to the mouth of the cave. Just then, in the distance, Evangeline saw a brief flicker of light, followed shortly by another.
He whipped off the handkerchief and raised the lantern high for some seconds. "You'll always receive a double signal. You have only to return it with a single, steady light, long enough for the men to get their bearings. They will row in and debark at the dock. You will meet them there." John Edgerton again lowered the lantern and covered it with his handkerchief and set it inside the cave. "At the high tide the cave is flooded." "The men know to approach only at low tide. They will never draw near in any case unless you yourself give the signal." He raised his hand. "Listen."
Within moments she heard the soft, rhythmic sound of oars dipping through the water.
"You'll go to the dock. Remember, my dear Eagle, that you are now one of us. You will greet the men and bring their packet of instructions back to me. We will read the code together tonight."
Evangeline nodded, and hurried from the cave to the end of the long wooden dock. She saw Edmund's small sloop bobbing up and down at its anchor, and beyond it, through the soft night mist, a longboat. Two men, m.u.f.fled to their ears in black greatcoats, climbed up onto the dock, and one of them stepped forward. To Evangeline's surprise, he spoke fluent English. "All goes well. You are the Eagle?"
Evangeline merely nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
The man looked her up and down, then said, his voice low, "I was told that a woman was to be our contact. I hadn't expected anyone so young and so beautiful."
She wanted to vomit on his boots. She said, her voice as cold as the night had become, "Give me your instructions."
She made her way back to the cave, leaving the two men on the dock, waiting for her. Evangeline opened the packet and withdrew the papers. There were two envelopes, one of which, John Edgerton told her, contained a letter from her father and her next instructions. The other contained papers and a message in Houchard's code. Her hands shook; her mind squirreled about. She stumbled again and again over the letters.
"Keep calm. The men will wait until you are done, Evangeline. You have reversed the letters. Try again." It took her another fifteen minutes to verify that the message was indeed from Houchard. The papers were letters of reference and letters vouching for the character of Allan Dannard for the post of secretary to a Lord George Barrington in London. Evangeline had never heard his name before, but she'd wager he was somehow involved in the war ministry. She memorized both names. She would tell the duke.
"They were legitimate," Evangeline said she folded them back into the packet.
John Edgerton withdrew a slender piece of charcoal from his dark waistcoat pocket. "Write your initials in the bottom corner. Without them the men couldn't continue to London."
When she handed one of the men the packet, and told them the address of the Lynx, they nodded and gave a quick salute to Evangeline. "A bientt, Mademoiselle L'Aigle." One of the men kissed his fingertips to his lips. "Perhaps I will see you again, in different circ.u.mstances."
"I don't think so," she said, his new name stark in her mind. "Be a.s.sured that I will never forget you." When they had disappeared behind the rise of the cliff and the longboat was no longer in sight, John Edgerton emerged from the cave. "You did well, Evangeline. You will find your next instructions in the envelope, as I told you." He paused a moment and touched his fingers to her cheek. She drew back.
"I regret that I'm the villain in this drama, but then again, it brought you to me and that was ultimately what I wanted. You will see me again, Evangeline. Perhaps soon you'll be more submissive, more willing to hear of other matters."
"No," she said. "No."