Closer To Sin (23 page)

Sinclair leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, trying to assimilate the events of the past two days. How much should he reveal about the true state of affairs between him and Liliane? But then, Gaston had predicted it that first night he’d met Liliane. ‘How well do you know Henri Lyon, Gaston?’

Gaston considered for a moment. ‘Enough to know he’s trustworthy. I’ve had numerous dealings with him and I’ve never had cause to question his loyalties before. Why do you ask?’

Sinclair meticulously relayed the events since he’d last seen Gaston three nights ago. As he concluded his story Gaston sat contemplatively stroking his moustache. Eventually he broke the silence. ‘It’s interesting Solange Beaumont instructed Liliane to use Lyon to arrange a meeting with Allard, particularly as she was apparently unaware that Gareth had already met with them.’

‘That’s what I initially thought,’ Sinclair agreed. ‘But Gareth had a reputation for taking risks, and maybe his association with Lyon and Allard was based on information he acquired elsewhere. Beaumont’s loyalty has always been unquestioned, so for now, I need to give her the benefit of the doubt. Particularly as she was so eager to send Liliane as her replacement, and Liliane is clearly not implicated in any of these dealings.’

‘So that leaves either Deneux … or De Bois. We need to determine where De Bois fits into the picture, and whether it was happenstance that he came upon you on the road to Boulogne.’ Gaston took a sip of his coffee. ‘Equally important, we need to know who he’s working with, although, of course, the obvious choice is Deneux.’

Sinclair stood up and stretched tired muscles. ‘I pretty much drew those same conclusions.’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘After all, I had no shortage of time with which to think. Let me check on Liliane and then I’m going to catch up on a couple of hours sleep. Then, I need to make an early start tomorrow and return to Boulogne to see what else I can discover.’

Gaston moved to where Sinclair was standing and placed a hand upon his shoulder. ‘We’ll go together, my friend. I have a place we can stay without fear of being questioned.’

Sinclair hesitated and then nodded his acceptance of Gaston’s offer. With fresh horses, and without the need to detour to meet with informants, they should be there by late afternoon.

‘Now, you need to go and explain to Anais how you have come to be married to that little spitfire in there. And beware, she’s not going to accept any discussion of an annulment.’

‘Gaston, this is one time when I am going to ignore your fair wife’s council.’

‘And why is that, Sinclair?’

Sinclair frowned at Gaston’s use of his full name. ‘You—more than most—know of my aversion to marriage. I learnt my lesson with Carolyn. I’m content with my life as it is.’ It was his usual line, so with any luck Gaston would accept his explanation.

Gaston shook his head. ‘But that’s all you are Sinclair, content. You may not wish to recognise it, but I believe Liliane can show you that there’s more to a marriage than simple contentment. Didn’t she prove that to you last night?’

‘She was just doing her job,’ Sinclair threw at him as he turned and walked from the room.

Trust Gaston to cut straight to the heart of the matter. He may have married Liliane out of necessity, but it was more than a temporary solution. It was a solution he needed to make right because, if there was one thing he had come to accept over the past twenty-four hours, life without Liliane would be no life at all. And that essentially summed up his existence for the past five years. It had just taken a sable-haired hellion to make him realise it.

Liliane woke to the sound of her own scream as white hot pain sliced through her ribs. Oh good grief, what was happening to her? She mentally examined herself. Her tongue was thick against the roof of her mouth and her lips were dry and cracked. Both limbs felt intact and, wiggling her fingers, both arms seemed to be fully functional. But her head ached. She tried to open her eyes but found it easier to keep them squeezed tightly shut.

‘Shh, Liliane, lie still, sweet one,’ a soft voice soothed. A cold compress was placed against her head, and it felt so good. ‘I have some water for you. Sip slowly.’

Liliane sipped. She wanted to gulp the water, as it was cool and refreshing against the roof of her mouth. She laid her head back on the pillow and carefully opened her eyes. A small woman sat on a chair beside her, her angelic face luminous under a halo of ink black curls and her green eyes filled with concern. Liliane closed her eyes again and tried to remember where she was. Did she know that woman? She remembered being on the dock with Sin, running to warn him they had been followed. She remembered shooting De Bois, and running from his men. And she remembered blowing up the armaments factory. But where was Sin?

She turned her head towards the woman beside her. ‘Who are you?’

The woman’s soft laughter reminded Liliane of the tinkle of bells. ‘That’s the third time you have asked me that in the past two days. Do you think you will remember this time?’

‘Two days?’ She shut her eyes again. Two days? Surely that couldn’t be right. ‘Where’s Sin?’

‘One question at a time. First of all, swallow some more of this.’

Liliane swallowed dutifully. ‘Eeew, that’s vile,’ she shuddered. ‘What is it?’

Her nurse grimaced. ‘Willow-bark tea. Not the best tasting concoction, but it helps to numb the pain. I had been giving you small doses of laudanum up until now, but I don’t think you need to keep taking it anymore.’

She placed the glass on the side table. ‘Now to answer your questions. I’m Anais Duval, Gaston’s wife. You were shot while meeting with an informant.’ She shook her head reassuringly. ‘Nothing serious, the bullet lodged just under your skin and was removed by Monsieur Lyon before you fled Boulogne. I’ve been tending to you ever since.’ Anais stood and adjusted Liliane’s blankets. ‘You had a slight fever but there’s no lasting infection, just some minor blood loss and a bit of bruising. I expect it will begin to clear in a day or two.’

Shot?
Liliane was incredulous. ‘And what of Sin? Is he alright?’ She heard the quaver in her voice. Surely Sin hadn’t been shot also. ‘How— How did I get here?’

Anais stood and leaned over Liliane to plump up her pillow, her movements slow and awkward. She placed a hand to her lower back and straightened carefully to reveal a greatly rounded belly. ‘Sin brought you here, my sweet. And he will return here alive if he knows what’s good for him.’

Alarmed Liliane tried to sit up, the pain tore at her side bringing tears to her eyes. ‘He’s dead? No—’

Anais hastened to reassure her. ‘No, he’s not dead. But I am
very
angry with him—to put you in danger like that and then just leave you here.’ Anais was pacing the length of the room, shaking her head. ‘Oh no, my sweet, he’s not dead, but he may wish he was by the time I’ve finished with him.’

Liliane gaped at Anais. Sin was gone? Just like that, he’d left her? She turned her head to the side as hot tears scalded her cheeks. How naive to think that they’d shared a connection, however tenuous it may have been. Their goodbye may have been inevitable, and she had no expectation of a happily ever after, but she hadn’t expected it to be so sudden. Not with so many things left unsaid.

Anais hastened back to Liliane’s side and gently brushed a hand across her brow. ‘Ahh, hush, I think you misunderstand me. I’m expecting both Sin and Gaston to return sometime tomorrow. They didn’t tell me precisely where they were going, but I suspect they returned to Boulogne to discover a little more about recent events.’

Liliane hung her head, embarrassed for Anais to have seen her tears. Whatever it was between her and Sin, it was too fragile to explain to another, and Anais seemed too perceptive by half. Anais obviously didn’t accept that her marriage to Sin had only been a tactic to forestall De Bois. And there was no way she could reveal that she was soon to grace the ballrooms of London where she was widely expected to accept a betrothal offer from Freddy Parkes.

She shut her eyes. Poor self-righteous Freddy wasn’t the most enigmatic man she’d ever encountered. But until now it had barely mattered that his body wasn’t powered by taut lean muscle, or that he didn’t have a firm sensuous mouth that was the embodiment of every wicked fantasy she’d ever permitted herself. Nor had it mattered that Freddy didn’t move with the grace and litheness of a panther—a panther who looked at her with hungry eyes, as if she were his next meal. Well, up until three days ago, none of that had mattered. She had been resigned to her fate, determined to make her family happy. And she still would, but at least she had a beautiful memory of Sin to keep her company in the years ahead.

She must have groaned aloud. ‘Is the pain so bad little one?’ Anais wrung out a wash cloth and gently cleansed Liliane’s face. ‘Perhaps I will give you some more laudanum after all.’

‘No, no more laudanum.’ Liliane brushed Anais’s hand away. ‘I would like something to eat though.’

‘Certainly,’ Anais hastened to assure her. ‘But not too much.’ She fussed over a couple of more things and then bustled from the room.

Liliane sank her head back against the pillows. So Sin had returned to Boulogne with Gaston. The thought of him being subjected to danger was unsettling. Although, this time, he wouldn’t be hampered by her. He wasn’t going back to fish for information, he was going back to hunt. She had met Sin, the carefree reprobate, the protector, the gentle lover. But something told her that Sin in hunting mode would be fearsome and single-minded.

Minutes later, Anais returned with a tray laden with two steaming bowls of soup and a loaf of bread. She placed the tray to the side and assisted Liliane to sit up. As she did so she looked at her critically. ‘Your colour is good and your fever has passed. I’m certain you’ll be up and about by tomorrow.’

Liliane shook her head. ‘Tomorrow? I was hoping to get up today. So long as I’m careful, and make no sudden movements, I’m sure I won’t notice it’s there.’

‘Don’t even consider it.’ Anais tutted at her with her hands planted firmly on her hips. ‘I might waddle with all the grace of a duck right now, but don’t for a minute think that I won’t forcibly confine you to this bed if I must.’

For the first time since she opened her eyes, Liliane smiled. It seemed Anais had invested too much time into her care to risk a relapse. If remaining abed one extra day would stop Anais from exerting herself, then of course she would oblige. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll stay in bed. But I think you’re being a little hard on yourself, you’re nothing like a duck,’ she winked at Anais. ‘Perhaps more a swan.’

Anais laughed aloud. ‘Well, at least swans move with a little more grace.’

Liliane joined in her laughter, immediately regretting it as pain lanced her side. Hiding a grimace, she indicated the soup. ‘That smells delicious, what is it?’

‘Nothing elaborate. I always keep a vegetable soup on the hearth during the cold months.’ Anais passed Liliane her bowl and sat next to her. ‘I must say, for February, winter has shown very little sign of abating this year. At least a late spring will hamper any immediate plans Napoleon has for his invasion of England.’

‘You are not in favour of it?’ Liliane queried, taking a sip of her soup.

‘Absolutely not. That Corsican, and those who came before him, have facilitated enough evil. Their despotic ways are why people such as us risk everything. There has been too much bloodshed.’ Anais patted her belly. ‘Not that I can do much at the moment, but there are other ways I can still be useful.’

Liliane savoured another mouthful of the soup; it really was good. It must have been days since she’d eaten. But although she was hungry, she was desperate to know how Anais had come to know Sin. To learn a little bit more about him. She was just a little uncertain of how to broach the subject though. ‘Tell me, when do you expect your baby to be born?’ she asked, opting for a safer topic.

‘In another two months or so, I hope.’ With a grimace Anais put her hand to a place slightly below her ribs and pushed down. ‘He gets a little active just after I’ve eaten,’ she explained.

An image of Sin cradling an innocent baby in his arms assailed Liliane. It was so at odds with the man she knew, but it seemed so perfect, so right. Her breath caught in her throat. Oh my God, she dropped her hand to her abdomen, what if she was carrying Sin’s baby? The thought was both alarming and thrilling in equal parts. It would cause a scandal of immense proportion, but a small part of her would rejoice in having his baby to love and hold. Except the price would be higher than she could ever pay: exiled from family and friends, and always having to defend her decision to have stepped outside of society’s boundaries. She swallowed back the lump in her throat. She would cross that bridge if it arose. She smiled at Anais. ‘Why are you so determined for Sin to be your baby’s godfather?’ she asked, seizing the opportunity to discover a little more about her temporary husband.

Anais closed her eyes and seemed to take a moment to collect herself. The words, when they came, sounded strained and fraught with emotion. Liliane sat listening, enthralled as Anais recounted the events surrounding the battle of Marengo in Northern Italy.

‘Gaston and I,’ Anais explained, ‘are an integral part of Sin’s intelligence network. In June 1800, while Gaston was in Paris, I was in Marengo providing support to the Austrian army.’ Her eyes took on a distant gaze. ‘In the days prior to the battle, I was feeding false reports to Napoleon’s forces. The most damning report was the one where I leaked information that the bridge over the Bormida River had been destroyed and the Austrian troops were retreating.’ She shook her head regretfully. ‘The report had been meant as a diversionary tactic, but ultimately, it hadn’t worked.’ Anais drew her arms across her body, hugging herself tightly.

‘On the day of the battle I took refuge in the stables behind an inn. It was all going well … until Napoleon brought the cavalry into the fight.’ Liliane could see the fear of that day still lurking at the back of Anais’s eyes. She gingerly leaned over and put a placating hand over Anais’s. Anais smiled her gratitude.