What You Propose (Anything for Love 2)

"You seem mighty confident. I just hope you're right."

"I'm always right," he said with a chuckle. "Besides, if you think about it logically, the accomplice would have had to have been in London on the night Victor died. He would have had to have followed you here."

Anna tried to recall the events of the night she stabbed Victor. For her own sanity, she had hoped never to revisit them. Lord Danesfield had been busy arranging her departure. He had ridden alongside the carriage, stayed with them until they'd set sail. Fragments of memories flashed through her mind. Had they been followed? She didn't think so. Then again, her thoughts had been in a state of constant disarray.

"I don't remember seeing anyone lurking about, but I'm certain Lord Danesfield would have noticed."

Marcus nodded. "Precisely. Dane would have known the moment someone started trailing your carriage. And if the accomplice did follow you here, why wait three weeks to reveal himself? You've been down to the village numerous times on your own.

He's had every opportunity to approach you before now."

Anna pondered his words. "I suppose it does sound a little far-fetched. But there is another option. What if he came looking for Victor at Labelles, heard of Lord Danesfield's involvement from one of the girls and found a way to read his letters?"

Marcus massaged his chin, the furrow between his brows growing more prominent. "It's nigh on impossible. The letters were all stamped with Dane's crest." He paused. "Unless he stole one, intercepted it on route somehow."

She had not thought of that. "So you believe there is a possibility the man in the stable could be Victor's accomplice?"

He stroked her cheek, the affectionate gesture calming her racing heart. "Look. We must not jump to conclusions. We must study the facts as they present themselves. I've written to Dudley Spencer, Dane's associate, and asked him to investigate the matter of the comte having a business partner. But it could take weeks for him to write back with news. In the meantime, we must see what we can discover for ourselves."

Anna forced a smile. Regardless of her earlier reservations, she trusted his decision. Besides, she enjoyed his company and the thought of spending a few leisurely hours with him was reward in itself.

They crossed the road to the inn. Marcus opened the door for her, and they walked inside. As she suspected, the place was full to bursting, every table occupied, the boisterous throng all singing along with a minstrel strumming his lute. Various smells flooded her senses: wood smoke mingled with stale tobacco, sweat and beef stew. It took a tremendous amount of effort not to cover her nose and gag.

Nodding to the few people who offered a greeting, she scanned the room. "Did you know it would be this busy?"

"One of the minstrels stayed on after the fair. I heard he has developed an affection for Lenard's sister."

Anna cast him a sidelong glance. Was that the reason for their visit? Was Marcus distrusting of the stranger amongst their midst?

"Well, he's certainly brought some life to the place," she said deciding not to broach the subject of the intruder again.

Just being in Marcus' company made her anxieties disappear. She tried to imagine what his life would be like without the thrill of an assignment — safer, predictable, rather dull? As much as she'd been keen for him to abandon his dangerous pursuits and farm the land, she felt he would need a purpose, a cause worth fighting for if he was to be truly happy.

An idea popped into her head, as illuminating as a hundred candles in a dark room. Wonderful! She knew just the thing. Indeed, if Marcus showed no interest in the project, she would fund it herself. All she needed—

"Madame Tullier is beckoning us to her table," Marcus said, tapping her on the arm to disturb her reverie.

She followed Marcus' gaze to the middle-aged woman sitting to their right in the near corner of the room. Anna watched her take an empty chair from the table next to her before looking up and waving vigorously enough to fan a spark into a flame.

Pushing past the people standing, they made their way to the woman whose pastries were so delicious they would sell for a shilling a piece in London. Born and raised in Whitechapel before marrying a Frenchman at the tender age of sixteen, Madame Tullier had lived in the village for thirty years.

"Sit 'ere," she said with some excitement. The woman liked talking about England, but usually, it took a few sentences before she reverted to her natural dialect.

"I shall go and get a drink," Marcus said pulling out a chair for Anna to sit.

Anna looked up at his handsome face. "I think that would be wise considering the number of people in here tonight."

"I'm so pleased for Lenard," Madame Tullier said when Marcus left them alone. "Fate has a way of bringin' an answer to all our prayers."

Anna nodded as she offered the woman a warm smile, suddenly realising that the same was true of her situation. "I couldn't agree with you more, madame."

Fate had brought her to Marcus Danbury, to the delightful monastery where she had discovered the true nature of the person hidden within — the person she had buried beneath a false facade for far too long.

"Lucy, you must call me Lucy." She nodded to a point beyond Anna's shoulder. "Antoine had the same idea about the drinks though it's been a while since he's looked at me the way Mr. Danbury does you. You can always tell the look of a gentleman in love, I say."

Anna swallowed deeply. All the blood rushed to her cheeks, and she pressed them with the tips of her fingers. The woman had obviously mistaken a friendly countenance for something far more meaningful.

"My, it's hot in here," Lucy said giving her a knowing wink as she removed her shawl. "It's so hot it's made my heart all aflutter."