More Than a Stranger: A Sealed With a Kiss Novel (35 page)

Henry’s eyebrows shot up his forehead in surprise. Benedict rushed on, not wanting to give him the opportunity to interrupt. “I met Renault almost a year ago, when I was charged with infiltrating his operation. My work resulted in the capture and arrest of many of his top men. He escaped arrest, but during the chaos, his brother turned on me, and I had no choice but to kill him.

“I knew Renault would want revenge, but I thought my true identity was safe. When I heard word he had set up camp again, I went to investigate. That was when I heard you speaking with him.”

Henry stood mute for a moment, staring at Benedict as if trying to read his mind. “You’re lying.”

Benedict shook his head slowly. “I knew the estate was struggling, and I thought you wanted an easy out. I have spent the last week in agony, coming to terms with the fact I would have to turn you over to my superiors and destroy our family in the process.”

There—all of his secrets were now laid bare. God, he wished he had been as honest with Evie. He shook his head. He had to focus on the present.

Henry simply stared at him for a moment before dropping back heavily into the desk chair. Benedict was well aware that by admitting he was in the service of the Crown, he had effectively just ended his espionage career. Of course, as he had been compromised by Renault, truly it was already over. Curiously, he had no feelings of regret about putting that part of his life behind him. He only wished he had made the decision before he had caused harm to the people he cared about.

Henry lifted his eyes to Benedict. “I thought you were a traitor. He had proof in the form of letters you had written to him.”

Benedict thought for a moment before understanding dawned. He meant the letters sent before the raid. They would look very damning indeed. “What was it he proposed? What exactly is the nature of your relationship?”

“It was not so much what he proposed but rather what he required,” Henry answered somewhat cryptically.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? “In case you have forgotten, you are the bloody Earl of Dennington. As was drilled into me repeatedly while growing up, there are
very
few people who can require anything of you. I am fairly certain Renault would not be one of them.”

Henry fingered the elegant inkwell that rested on the desk, avoiding Benedict’s gaze. When at last he spoke, his words were carefully chosen and quietly uttered. “He threatened to not only reveal you as a traitor, but to destroy my name as well. He had done his homework. He knew about the debt the estate is in. He had me by the bollocks.”

Benedict breathed a long breath. He felt slightly sick with himself, a feeling that was regrettably becoming more and more common as recent events had unfolded. “What did he want?”

“Oversee the distribution of a few shipments of smuggled goods, basically finishing the work he said you agreed to do.”

At last, he felt cautious relief spread through his body like cool water; relief born from simply knowing that his brother had not willingly joined a smuggling ring, that he wouldn’t have to drag his family’s name through the mud. Just as strong was the relief that he could hope to someday be able to see Evie again.

“I fear I have made a grave mistake,” Henry murmured.

“You did what you thought you had to do.”

“No, you do not understand.” Henry swallowed thickly. “I am not talking about the past. I am speaking of the immediate future. I—I sent for Renault. That is why I was holding you here. I sent for Renault, just as he instructed me, and he will undoubtedly be here very soon.”

Oh dear God. Benedict sat in mute shock for a moment, trying to grasp the full ramifications of the claim. “He is coming here? Now?” He let loose a string of curses, struggling against the bindings holding him to the chair. “Henry, for God’s sake man, how much time do we have? He will murder me where I stand—probably the both of us!”

Henry stood and rushed to the door. “Release him, Nigel, quickly!”

The startled footman looked uncertainly from Henry to Benedict. The climate in the room was very different from when they had shut the door, and his brain seemed to be having trouble processing the change.

Henry looked at him in exasperation. “Now, Nigel.”

As Henry glanced uneasily at his watch fob, Benedict’s heart sank even lower. He had the awful feeling they were dealing not in hours, but rather minutes until his enemy arrived.

Heaven help them now.

Dear Papa,

We’ve been here before, but so much has changed since then. I must tell you that Mr. Benedict is in fact Mr. Benedict Hastings. It is a very long story, all of which I promise to share, but right now I need you to know only that I have gone to see him. Fear not, for Richard is with him now, and I will have Richard escort me home when my task is complete. I love him with all my heart, Papa. I must tell him that I forgive him. There has been so much miscommunication between us; I need for him to hear the words from my own lips.

Eight years ago when I set off to find him, it was out of my own hurt and betrayal. This time it is to set his mind at ease—to prevent that same pain for him. Please do not worry for me, and I beseech you not to try to come after me. When I return, I promise to live my life with the joy of having known love, however briefly. That is not to say I will not be heartbroken, but that I will at least no longer be living in fear and doubt.

In love and with hope for understanding,

Evie

* * *

“I don’t know, my lady. Perhaps I should send for Lord Granville.”

Evie tried not to show the alarm she felt at Dunley’s words. Under no circumstances could her parents know what she was up to until
after
she was gone. Having banished her maid from her room so Evie could “rest,” she was counting on having at least two hours before anyone discovered her absence and the letter upon her pillow. She peered at her longtime employee with her most authoritative air. “Dunley, you know full well that I act in my father’s stead. He is very busy at the moment, and I wish to take a walk about the grounds.”

She was very glad she had thought to drape a shawl over the sling on her left arm. She didn’t want the groom to see that she was still suffering from the effects of the fall. Though the discomfort had lessened significantly, she thought it best to keep her arm from jostling too much on the ride.

“Yes, my lady, it is just that—”

“
Mr.
Dunley,” she interjected sharply. The man closed his mouth and swallowed. “The stables have been my domain for years. It is not in your job description to question my wishes. I would like for Epona to be saddled and brought to me
immediately.
Is that understood?”

Dunley’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. She had never in her life spoken to any of the servants that way. She tamped down on the tiny hitch of guilt she felt; her mission was too important to worry about offending someone.

“Still, my lady—”

“Ah, there you are.”

Beatrice.
She stood in the doorway, the soft gray light of the overcast day outlining her small form. She strode forward purposefully, her slippers silent on the dirt floor. Evie didn’t know what to think of her sister’s arrival. She had caused trouble for Evie in the past, but Evie rather thought they had turned a corner at their last talk.

“Were you looking for me?” Evie kept her expression neutral, despite the unease scraping along her already frayed nerves.

“Yes. Papa sent me to ask you what time you thought you might be back. He wanted you to be present for the meeting with the estate manager.” Her eyes were perfectly innocent, her words precisely delivered.

When Dunley looked from Beatrice to Evie for her answer, Beatrice winked and offered an impertinent grin. Love for her blessed, meddling sister swelled within Evie’s chest, and she offered her a grateful smile.

“Thank you, Beatrice. I plan on taking a nice long walk with Epona, so don’t expect me for hours yet. Tell Papa to schedule the meeting for late afternoon, if he doesn’t mind.”

“As you wish.”

Evie turned impassive eyes to the head groom. “That saddle, Mr. Dunley?”

He nodded and disappeared into the tack room. Evie hurried to her sister’s side and swallowed her in a big hug, grateful that she finally felt well enough to do so. “You are wonderful; do you know that?”

Beatrice squeezed her back before pulling away. “I don’t know why you are leaving, but I am certain it has to do with Benedict.”

Evie nodded, blinking back tears. “Yes. I love him. I must go to him.”

“Well, then, you’d best get a move on. I will cover for you as long as I am able—that should buy you a few hours at the least. And I saw where you stashed your bag in the garden. I added some bread and biscuits that I filched from the kitchen in case you get hungry.”

When had she become such a sweet girl? Evie offered her a heartfelt smile. “I won’t ever forget this, Bea. Thank you.”

She nodded once, kissed Evie’s cheek, then retreated from the stables back toward the house.

The groom reemerged, toting the saddle in his arms and heading for Epona’s stall. She offered him a small, conciliatory smile. “Thank you, Dunley. I have had just about enough coddling over the past few days, so forgive me if I am overly sensitive. You needn’t worry; I know my limits, and I merely wish to get back in the saddle, quite literally.”

He nodded again and set off to do her bidding.

Thank God.

Chapter Twenty-seven

If only I knew why you wrote that hideous letter. I tried to come after you, but Papa intervened. Now I’ll never know why you betrayed me.

—From Evie to Hastings, mentally composed as her father escorted her home

T
he pounding of horse hooves outside was unmistakable. Benedict and Henry both froze in place, their eyes riveted on each other. They had moved from the office to the front room, both frantically trying to prepare for the upcoming confrontation. It was too soon. They hadn’t had time to come up with a proper plan—or any plan at all, really.

“Shit!”
Henry hissed, a look of panic coming over him.

Benedict’s mind raced. “All right, this is what we are going to do. Have your man open the door and take him to your study. Tell him I am being kept in the cellar, and ask him to accompany you there. When you unlock the door, shove him in and lock the door.” The plan was haphazard at best, but what were his options?

Henry was pulling the curtain back, trying to get a glimpse of Renault. “That doesn’t make any sense. There is only one man out there. Renault always travels with at least two of his cohorts. What is he planning?”

Benedict rushed to the window and eased the fabric aside to get a view. The rider reined in, dismounted, and walked briskly toward the front gate.

Gratitude unlike anything he’d ever experienced washed over him like a tidal wave. “Richard!” Benedict exclaimed, recognizing his friend’s height and gait as he approached the house. He dropped the curtain and strode to the door. Relief coursed through him like a drug. “Richard!” he exclaimed again as he flung open the door, ignoring the bang as it crashed into the wall.

Richard stopped at once, startled. Benedict couldn’t recall ever feeling so relieved, and thankful, and loved, and appreciative in his entire life. He watched as the look of shock transitioned to confusion in his friend’s eyes. Richard half ran to the door, and Benedict grabbed his hand in a sincere handshake before pulling him in for a hug and a sound slap on his back.

He swallowed, trying to get his emotions under control. Of all the questions swirling in his head, the only sentence he managed was, “What are you doing here?”

Richard looked more than a little baffled. “I
thought
I was coming to help you, but it appears my assistance is not needed. Is your brother even here?”

“Indeed I am, sir.” Henry appeared in the foyer and bowed smartly to Richard, who in turn looked as if he had bitten into a lemon.

Benedict held his hands up. “A lot has transpired since I arrived here. Henry had no idea Renault wanted me dead. Renault convinced him I was the traitor, and he threatened to ruin the family if Henry didn’t carry out his instructions.” He looked back and forth between the two men. Henry’s affronted expression spoke clearly of betrayal while Richard’s dropped jaw conveyed incredulity.