Shana Galen (20 page)

She flopped back on the pillow and covered her eyes. The more she thought about it, the more it muddled her brain. Why did she keep coming back to this? What exactly did she expect from Alex? He’d never promised her anything. In fact, he’d always been open about his feelings on the matter, made it clear their liaison was temporary. And would she have agreed if he had wanted something permanent?

Lucia snorted. Who was she fooling? She’d never be more than one in a series of women in his life. Still, she couldn’t regret what had happened between them. She wouldn’t trade it for anything, and perhaps she was giving up too easily.

She sat up. Perhaps she just needed a plan to win him over.

Lucia bit her thumbnail, thinking. Her father and all of Society expected her to marry Dandridge. But how could she do so knowing what she knew now about passion? She would never be happy as Reginald’s wife.

She couldn’t marry him, she decided, but then the old dread seized her at the thought of disappointing her father. What would Lord Brigham say if she married Alex? She tried to imagine it and winced. He’d be furious at first. She could just picture the vein throbbing in his neck. But mightn’t he come to ac
cept the union, given time? After all, Alex was rich and powerful—not in Parliament, but politics weren’t everything. Surely having two wealthy, influential sons-in-law would only further her father’s bid to win the office he so desired.

She lay back on the bed again. But what if her father didn’t see it that way? And how was she ever going to persuade Alex to marry her anyway? It would require a more masterful plan than she’d ever devised in the past.

She shook her head. No matter. She could not, would not marry Reginald. There it was. She didn’t want to displease her father, but she couldn’t throw her life away to keep him happy.

She’d always wondered what it would be like to go against Society’s dictates. Now she had her chance. Come what may.

But it was one thing to decide to win a man over and another to accomplish it. Perhaps if she was given more time with Alex, he might come to care for her. But could a rake really be reformed? She couldn’t accept an adulterous marriage with Alex any more than a loveless one with Dandridge. Alex was intent on returning her to England, and as soon as she was gone, his interest in her would disappear, too.

There was a quiet tap on the door, and Lucia jumped. Heart racing, she was off the bed and at the door in three strides, praying she’d see Alex when she opened it.

She didn’t.

Lord Dewhurst, dressed immaculately in full riding attire, stood before her. He removed his high-crowned beaver hat, deftly couching it under his arm, and bowed deeply. Where did the man acquire his wardrobe?

“May I come in, Miss Dashing?”

It wasn’t proper, and Lucia hesitated for a moment. Then the door across the hall opened and a fat man still buttoning his breeches emerged. Lucia dragged Dewhurst inside.

“Is Alex all right?” Lucia asked as soon she’d shut and locked the door.

“Fine. Busy making arrangements for a ship to transport us back to England. You’re to be ready to sail tonight.”

“Yes, well, we may need to revise that plan.” She tapped her chin. “I think it would be better if I returned after we’ve found John.”

“Ah—” Dewhurst shifted and pulled on the cuffs of his riding coat. “I believe Selbourne intends to go on alone,” he said and took a step back.

Lucia frowned. “That won’t do. Now we’re so close to finding John, Alex needs me more than ever.” Not to mention, if he forced her to leave tonight, she’d never know if Alex could be reformed. No, it would not do at all.

She glanced at Dewhurst. He was eyeing her warily.

“I need to talk to Alex,” Lucia said. Dewhurst was obviously not going to help. “Will he be back soon?”

“Yes.” Dewhurst looked relieved. “In fact, he’s downstairs with Madame Loinger right now.”

Lucia nodded and bit her lip. She was going to have to think of an argument for why she should stay. Quickly.

“If that is all—” Dewhurst began.

Lucia snagged his sleeve. “Lord Dewhurst, you must forgive me for not expressing my appreciation earlier for your help last night. If you hadn’t appeared when you did, I don’t know what might have happened.”

Dewhurst waved a hand, his face reddening slightly. “It was nothing, Miss Dashing. I was in the neighborhood and thought I might throw a rub in the way of those thugs.”

Lucia shook her head. The more she got to know the easygoing dandy, the more she liked him. Genuinely liked him. “Lord Dewhurst, would you call me Lucia?” she said on impulse. “I know I’ll have to pretend I don’t know you when we return to London, but for now do you think it terribly improper?”

“Not at all, Miss—Lucia. Not at all. And you must call me Freddie.”

“Very well, Freddie,” she said, thinking the new, informal atmosphere a perfect lead in to her next question. “If you don’t mind my asking, how is it that you happened to be ‘in the neighborhood,’ as you say? How did you get to Calais so quickly when I saw you in Town the night we were taken?”

He arched a tawny brow. “So you want to know all my secrets, eh?”

“If you don’t mind divulging one or two.” She gave him an overly coy look, and he shook his head.

“Very well, but this is confidential,” he cautioned with a raised finger. She nodded earnestly.

“Hodges came to my town house immediately after you had been abducted. I rather thought he intended to give me the what for after I barged in on you and Selbourne.” He leaned against the door leisurely.

Lucia lowered her eyes, no longer feeling flirtatious. “You thought no such thing. I’m certain you realized Alex needed your assistance immediately.”

“I daresay I was hiding under my bed.” He winked at her. “But I like your version better.”

Lucia laughed. “Be serious.”

Dewhurst shrugged. “Very well, then, if I must
play the hero, that version of the story is that Hodges came to me and explained your situation. He’d followed you and noted the ship you boarded and asked around until he determined the destination. I decided the best course of action was to go directly to Winterbourne.”

Lucia’s stomach dropped. Oh, Lord! Ethan knew.

“And I must add,” Freddie continued, “your brother-in-law does not appreciate interruptions to his sleep. In fact, he was in quite a miff. And he
looked
absolutely atrocious. I cannot tell you—”

“Freddie!”

“Sorry. Where was I? Oh, yes. In spite of Winterbourne’s temper, I explained the circumstances, and he agreed to accompany me to the yacht.”

“Yacht?”

“Yes, Selbourne’s yacht,
The Incognito
.”

“You’re hoaxing me?
The Incognito
?”

Freddie raised a hand. “I know, I know but it came with that name apparently. Terrifying vessel, really.” Freddie shuddered. “Don’t know why anyone would want to even
think
about leaving solid land.”

“Freddie, I thought this was the heroic version,” Lucia reminded him.

“Oh, yes. In that case, I am really quite a good sailor. Never been seasick in my life. In fact, I could man the entire ship myself. Don’t even need a crew. Worthless lot! Damn near threw them off the ship, in fact. But far be it from me to make a mull of Selbourne’s affairs. If he wants a crew, well then, I thought I had better keep them.”

“Freddie,” Lucia interrupted again, afraid that if she did not speed him along, the story would last all night. “You said Ethan was going to accompany you. Where is he?”

“Ah. Told him no thank you. Actually had to insist the man not accompany me. That took some doing, but the man has a wife and children to think of! After that delay, I boarded the yacht, and we sailed for France. It’s a fast vessel.” He swallowed. “Too fast actually, but we had no problem overtaking yours. We landed in Calais ahead of you.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Lucia said.

“Nothing to it.” Freddie snapped his fingers.

“I doubt that.” She glanced at him, then looked down. “Did you see Francesca when you went to Ethan?”

“Oh, yes. And I must say, she is a good deal more pleasant than her husband. She was simply elegant in—”

“And did she say anything about me?” Lucia glanced up, then quickly down again.

“Hmm.” Freddie furrowed his brow. “Oh, yes. She was going to settle it to appear as though you’d been at Winterbourne Hall these past days with her. I believe she was dispatching a note to Lady Brigham when I left.”

Lucia rubbed her forehead. “That will not sit well with Mamma. But I suppose it is the only option.” Lucia lowered her eyes again, feeling the heat in her cheeks even before she whispered, “Do you think Francesca knew I’d been with Alex? In his company, I mean,” she stammered. She peeked at Dewhurst and saw that all the lightheartedness was gone from his face. He gave her a penetrating glance.

“Yes, and I apologize. I was discreet, but with the facts as they are—” He shrugged his shoulders regretfully.

“No, no!” Lucia grasped his arm reassuringly. “I know you didn’t say more than you had to.”

“No, but under normal circumstances, I would never—”

“Pray, think no more of it. Are we sailing tonight then?” she said, trying to change the subject.

He nodded. “Get some rest. It will be a long night.”

Yes, it would, she thought. But it wouldn’t end with her departure. “If that is all, Miss Dashing, I’ll take my leave,” Freddie said, pulling his hat from beneath his arm.

“Of course. Where are you off to?”

The playful look from earlier reappeared. “There’s a bit of muslin downstairs with ravishing red hair. I was hoping for an introduction.”

Well, he wasn’t going to get it from her. Men! She was about to tell him exactly what she thought of his lax morals, then thought of a better way.

“Oh, you must mean Emma?” Lucia said sweetly. Marie had introduced her to some of the girls and told her about others. “She’s a very nice girl. Only seventeen.”

Dewhurst frowned. “I don’t need to know—”

“Did you know both her mother and father died last year, and she was out on the street? She nearly starved, but Madame Loinger came to her rescue. Now she works here. Poor girl. Freddie, where are you going?”

He had turned and opened the door. “I need a drink,” he mumbled, and shut the door.

A
lex opened the door to the room Madame Loinger had appropriated for Dewhurst. It was little more than a cramped closet with a cot, a chair, and a bottle of gin. As Freddie wasn’t there, Alex took the liberty of opening the bottle himself, and he didn’t apologize when Freddie returned ten minutes later.

Sprawled on a chair, Alex nodded and took another swig from the nozzle.

“Sorry,” he said. “Couldn’t find any glasses.”

Freddie shut the door behind him, grabbed the bottle, and took a healthy swallow as well. Alex raised a brow. Even in the seediest settings, Dewhurst had always maintained certain standards of behavior. “What’s come over you?” Alex asked.

“Need you ask?” Freddie took another drink.

Alex raked a hand through his hair. “What’s she done now?”

“Only proceeded to give me the life history of a
sweet wench I was hoping would keep me entertained this evening. Dash it if I don’t feel sorry for the chit now.” He took another drink.

Alex laughed and took the bottle from him. “Sounds like Lucia,” he said, downing his own portion.

Freddie sat on the cot. “You don’t think she
intended
to dissuade me, do you?”

“Of course she did. She doesn’t approve of rakes.”

“She tolerates you.”

“Only because she wants to reform me.”

Freddie arched his eyebrows. “And has she?”

“I don’t know.” He handed the bottle to Freddie and, sitting forward, put his head in his hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Freddie. I can’t stop thinking about her. I haven’t even looked at another woman since I saw her again.”

“Good God, man. Have another drink.” He offered the bottle to Alex, but Alex waved it away.

“The sooner she’s on that ship back to England, the better. Damn!” He slammed his fist into the wall. “I can’t even go up there. If I were with her now I’d—” He leaned back and closed his eyes.

“What are you going to do?” Dewhurst said after a pause.

Alex didn’t answer. He knew what he had to do. Had known all along. But somehow voicing it aloud made it inevitable. “I’m going to let her go.” His voice was flat and emotionless. “It’s the best thing. She can go home, marry Dandridge, and that will be the end of it.”

Freddie snorted. “You really think it’ll be that easy? She had a mutinous look in her eye when I mentioned leaving without you.”

Alex could well believe it. “She’ll have no other choice.”

“And you think she’ll return home and take up where life left off? If you believe that, then you’re an idiot.” He waved the bottle at Alex. “The girl’s got stars in her eyes every time she hears your name.”

Alex shook his head. “She’ll get over it.”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Not likely.”

“A few weeks with no word from me, and she’ll be so angry she’ll hate me. After I find her brother, I’m going straight to Nelson. We can’t be certain the admiral ever received news of Bonaparte’s plan. I may not return for months. By then I’ll be over her.”

Freddie sat forward. “You mean
she’ll
be over
you
.”

Alex scowled. “Right.”

Freddie eyed him sympathetically. “Why don’t you just admit you’re smitten with the chit and marry her?”

Alex shot up. “Because it would never work.”

“Why not? You’re perfect for each other.”

“I don’t like entanglements.” Alex waved an arm.

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before.”

Alex glared at him. “I don’t want a wife, Freddie, and I’ll suffer the consequences if it means avoiding a marriage that’s doomed from the start.”

Freddie began to protest, but Alex raised a hand. “Enough. Your job is to get her back safely and discreetly. If word of this gets out, she’ll be ruined.” The scandal would be disastrous for her whole family. Lucia would be isolated, never again accepted by polite society, shunned by her family and friends.

“Get her to Winterbourne Hall without being seen, and make sure nothing connects us. By the time you arrive in London, I’ll be on my way to the West Indies.”

Freddie grew serious and put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You don’t have to go.”

Alex stared at him. All joking aside, Freddie could
go to Nelson for him. And after Alex found Dashing, he could return to England with the boy. It would be a matter of days before he was with Lucia again. There’d be talk, but it would end if he married her, took her to Grayson Park, started a family…

The thought chilled him. No. A sleepless night had only reaffirmed the truth: he cared for her more than he wanted to admit, was dangerously close to falling in love with her. And he’d decided long ago the part of the lovesick fool was not for him. He was going to end this ruse while he still could. “I’m going.”

Freddie sank onto the cot.

“She’s going to hate you.”

“Good.” Alex opened the door. She’d never hate him as much as he hated himself.

Alex found her asleep on the bed, sprawled on her stomach, arms outflung. As he lit a candle, Lucia stirred groggily. “Tell me you weren’t with Brigitte,” she mumbled.

“What?” He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Nothing,” she said, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “You were away too long.” She rolled over and smiled at him. “But I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he said huskily. His gaze devoured her. The dress she wore barely covered the roundness of her breasts, and the material was so thin he could see the outline of her bent leg in the candlelight.

“Where did you get that gown?” he breathed.

She’d been watching him, must have heard the desire in his voice because her eyes grew dark with arousal. “Sophie loaned it to me. Do you like it?” She reached up and caressed his cheek.

He caught her hand. “Too much,” he murmured,
kissing her palm. “You’re going to need a cape to leave the room.”

Or a suit of armor.

“But why leave?” she said, her free hand running up his arm. “We’re safe here.”

Safe from Décharné, but not safe from him. “Dewhurst is on his way with a carriage. He’ll take you to my ship and back to England.”

Lucia sat up. “
Now?
But—”

An urgent rap on the door silenced her.

Alex glanced behind them. “Probably just Sophie telling us Freddie is back with the carriage.” He pulled away from Lucia and went to the door.

He tensed when he saw Brigitte’s face. She spoke quickly and quietly in French, and Alex swore when he closed the door. “Damn.”

“What is it?” Lucia rose to her feet. “Is it Freddie?”

“No. Décharné’s here.”

She gasped. “Oh, Lord, Alex! We need a plan.”

Alex held up a hand. “Slow down, Lucia. Brigitte says he hasn’t asked about us yet, but he’s got the guard with him, which is a bad sign.”

“Maybe we can hide.” Lucia looked around the room. “Or escape through the window.”

Alex ran a hand through his hair. “You’ll break your neck. We’re getting out of here. I had a devil of a time booking you passage on a ship. It’s almost eleven now, and it leaves at midnight, whether you’re on it or not.”

“That’s all right. I’ll go with you to Paris.”

“Forget it, Lucia. Sophie’s keeping Décharné occupied downstairs. If we leave now, we’ll be gone before they get a chance to search these rooms. Her girls entertain some of the most powerful men in France. The army can’t search at random without a few heads rolling.”

Seeming resigned for the moment, Lucia slipped her shoes on. “But how are we going to get away without them seeing us?”

“We’ll go through the kitchen. By now Dewhurst should be waiting out back.” Alex only hoped Décharné hadn’t thought to station men at that exit and, if he had, that Freddie was able to dispatch them.

He opened the door gingerly and peered out. Down the hallway, Marie nodded encouragingly, then followed a man into a room and shut the door. Alex motioned to Lucia into the hallway. He took her hand, pulling her rapidly down the corridor. They were exposed and vulnerable, and she jumped at every noise. By the time they reached the staircase, Alex’s nerves were as tight as a spring. At the landing, he paused to listen.

“I wish we could take Marie with us,” Lucia whispered from behind him.

“Shh,” Alex said. Then turned sharply, taking her words in. “What?”

“I wish we could take Marie,” she repeated. “Do you think we can?”

Had the woman just escaped from Bedlam? What did she think this was? An orphanage? He stared at her and finally choked out, “And what are you going to do with a French whore once you get back to London?”

“Don’t talk about her that way!” Lucia hissed. “She’s just a child, only sixteen. I could train her to be a lady’s maid. French maids are becoming quite the thing.”

Alex shook his head. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I
do
care about people, you know, and I want to do some good with my life.”

Who
was
this woman? “You can worry about saving the world once we save ourselves.”

“But Alex—” She turned, looking beseechingly back at the room Marie had entered.

Alex raked his hair. “Fine.” Anything to be on their way. “I’ll write to Madame Loinger and have Marie smuggled over after you get back.”

“Oh, yes!” Lucia smiled broadly. “But won’t Sophie be reluctant to send her away?”

“Not for the right price,” he mumbled, but Lucia heard him. “Oh, but I don’t want to
buy
her!”

“Lucia.” He shut his eyes, struggling for control. “We can discuss the details later, but only if we’re still alive. Let’s
go
.”

She gave one last look down the hallway, then he grasped her hand and pulled her down the stairs. At the bottom, he planned to dash into the kitchen, then out the servants’ door to the waiting carriage. He was on the second to last step when the sound of voices floated toward him. Alex froze. He turned to face Lucia, who was teetering on the step above him.

“It’s one of Décharné’s cronies and Louise.”

Her eyes went wild, and she whirled, obviously intending to run back upstairs. Before she had the chance, he snatched her arm and pushed her roughly against the wall. “There’s no time.” He pulled the sleeve of her gown off her shoulder, raised the hem to her thigh, and began kissing her. His back was to the approaching couple, and he stationed one of his arms to shield Lucia’s face from view. With his other, he made a show of caressing her leg.

“What are you doing?” she gasped as he hiked her dress up further.

“Breathe hard and moan. Act like you’re enjoying this,” he said, then thrust his mouth over hers. Lucia moaned, somewhat convincingly, then ran her hands down his back.

“What’s this?” Alex heard Décharné’s man say. “A free show?”

Louise laughed. “I have something better to show you upstairs. That’s just Jeanette.”

Alex heard the stairs creak as Louise and the man started up the stairs. Lucia clutched Alex tighter. Her body was shaking with fear. He squeezed her thigh and whispered, “Moan.”

Her moan came out as a whimper, and Alex groaned to cover it.

“Jeanette has no class,” Louise remarked, squeezing past them. “Madame will be furious when she hears of this.”

Louise shoved by, and Alex pushed Lucia against the wall to make room for her partner, but the man didn’t follow.

“There’s something familiar about that girl,” he said, his voice near enough to indicate he hadn’t moved on.

Lucia jumped and tried to break away, but Alex held her in place. Pressed against her, he could hear her heart thudding almost as loud as his own.

“Jeanette,” the man said in a voice Alex assumed was intended to sound seductive. Alex tensed. He knew it was over. Slowly he pulled away from Lucia and looked directly into her eyes.
Trust me,
he said wordlessly.

She nodded. He lowered his arm and turned. The recognition in the man’s eyes was instant, and Alex knew him, too. Lucia remembered that Décharné had called him Pierre. Pierre’s seductive smile faded, and he reached for his pistol.

Alex’s fist shot out and smashed into Pierre’s face, sending him reeling down the steps. Alex jumped down, pulled Pierre up by his coat, then yanked the thug through the kitchen door.

Lucia stared at the kitchen door where Alex and Décharné’s man had disappeared. There was a loud crash, and both she and Louise squealed. Louise had pressed herself against the wall next to Lucia, but now she was pointing frantically down the hallway. Lucia turned and saw two soldiers rushing toward them. With a cry, Lucia flew down the steps and into the kitchen.

She skidded to a stop, almost toppling over Pierre, who was sprawled on the floor. Alex was above him, his raised fist red with blood.

“There’s two more coming!” she shouted just as the soldiers burst through the door. She didn’t have time to move out of the way, and the door knocked her back against the wall.

She blinked rapidly as pain slashed through her skull. When she focused again, Alex was brandishing a large skillet at the soldiers. Lucia would have laughed if she wasn’t certain she was about to die. The soldiers reached for their pistols, and with a roar, Alex rushed them. He hit the soldier closer to him hard in the jaw, sending the man reeling.

The second managed better, punching Alex in the stomach. He doubled over, and Lucia squealed when the soldier raised his pistol and hit Alex on the back of the head. Alex’s body buckled, then he collapsed on his knees.

Unexpectedly he shot up, swinging the skillet and shoving the soldier into the wall next to Lucia. The man dropped his gun, unconscious. The other soldier crawled to his knees, but Alex kicked him in the jaw, sending him flying backward. Lucia winced as blood spattered across her skirts.

Alex staggered toward her, then bent to pick up the soldier’s fallen gun. He glanced at the closed
door, and she knew from the growing noise that any second the soldiers and Décharné could rush in.

Alex held out his hand, and Lucia forced her frozen body from the wall. She stepped quickly over the soldiers’ crumpled forms, trying not to look at their bloody faces. She almost screamed as she tripped over two more men lying facedown outside.