The Deception (Baron 3)

“Is there anything you can tell Drew? Did you see anything last night? Perhaps you were awake and at your window around midnight?”

“It was very cold last night. I never left my bed. Goodness, this all seems so fantastic.”

To Evangeline’s immense relief, Drew Halsey finally prepared to leave. He said as he rose, “My men won’t hold your servants long. I’ll keep you informed. It is doubtful that the Eagle will again use your beach, but I will, of course, have several of my men continue to watch.”

Evangeline rose as well. “I hope you find the man, my lord. I vow I won’t sleep tonight. If you gentlemen don’t mind, I shall see to Edmund now.”

Evangeline gave both men a brilliant smile and left the library. The duke looked after her, saying nothing.

“I’ll be at the Raven Inn today, Richard, but I must leave for London this evening. My latest intelligence is that Napoleon will start for Belgium within the next few days. Wellington is waiting for him. Hopefully, I’ll take the decoded instruction with me to London to the ministry.”

“I wonder if this group of spies had anything to do with Robbie’s death?” the duke said. “After all, he was my friend, he spent time here at Chesleigh, and the men were using Chesleigh as their entry point.”

“I’m certain as I can be now that it was. Imagine, the bastards used your private beach. That’s an incredible show of gall, if nothing else.”

And the duke said, his voice cool, “Actually, the idea is beginning to seem less fantastic.”

The duke gave Bassick instructions, nodded briefly toward the two men Lord Pettigrew had left behind, and headed for the nursery. He didn’t find her there. He entered her bedchamber, saw that the room was empty, and turned, only to stop at the door.

Ten minutes later he found her in a small, sunny parlor on the second floor. She was standing near the window, looking out over the Channel, her back to him. He closed the door firmly behind him and leaned against it. She didn’t turn, but he knew she was fully aware of him.

“Your performance was exquisite,” he said easily. “Drew was either admiring your beauty or cursing your frivolous woman’s prattle. Naturally, you were there to avert suspicion if anyone could possibly suspect you and to learn what we knew and what was being done. As I said, you did very well indeed. The only thing, Evangeline, did you honestly believe you could fool me?”

She closed her eyes at those smoothly spoken words. She shook her head, not turning. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, your grace. Surely any lady would be horrified at what’s been happening.” She managed a shudder. “A traitor here, at Chesleigh.”

He didn’t move, just said in that same easy voice, only it was deeper now, the calm more deadly, “Yes, let’s talk about traitors here at Chesleigh. Let me be quite specific. Shall I call you Evangeline or by your traitor’s name—the Eagle?”

She turned slowly to face him. It was over, but she knew she had to try. She said with desperate calm, “You’re weaving a fantasy, your grace. Look at me. How could I possibly be a man?”

“Yes, I believe I’ll look at you even more closely.” He walked to her, his eyes never leaving her face. “How odd it is that you’re wearing mittens. I’ve never seen you wear mittens.”

He grabbed her hands

in his and jerked them off. “I hope you didn’t suffer these unfeminine scratches from our lovemaking?” He shook his head. “No, don’t bother to lie to me, Evangeline, unless you would also care to explain the damp and torn clothes I found stuffed beneath your armoire. Damn you, Evangeline, you will tell me the truth.”

His face was taut with fury. She managed to wrench her hands away. He knew, and there was no hope for it. But what about her father? What about Edmund? “Very well,” she said finally. “It’s true.” “You’re this damned Eagle?” “Yes.”

He didn’t trust himself to touch her, because if he did, he didn’t know what he’d do. “I’ve never thought of myself as being particularly blind to others’ faults before. You certainly played me for a perfect fool, though. An indigent relation, a beautiful woman who needed my help. A beautiful woman who looked at me as if she wanted to tear my clothes off and seduce me. And you did seduce me, didn’t you? You think that will make any difference at all now that I know what you are? God, you’re a damned liar, a cheat, and a traitor.”

She looked at his hands, fisted at his sides. “I did only what I had to do.”

“And I played my role admirably, didn’t I? Tell me, what decided you to come to my bed? Did you think I might find something out unless you distracted me further? Did you really believe that I’d be less likely to give you over to the hangman just because I took your damned virginity?”

“I had no choice,” she said. “Enough, your grace. You must let me explain.”

He laughed at her. “Why not? I’m certain you’ve worked on your explanations a good long while. After all, you’ve been playing a very dangerous game. Naturally, you’d have to come up with good excuses to lay out when you were finally caught.”

It was then that he couldn’t help himself. He grabbed her and began shaking her. She opened her mouth, then blinked at him. “No,” she whispered. “Oh, no, this can’t happen,” and then she slumped, unconscious, against him.

Chapter 37

He caught her in his arms, feeling both frustrated and afraid. Damn her. He wouldn’t yell at her now, couldn’t confront her further, because she’d had the gall to faint. He carried her to his bedchamber, past a gaping maid and two frozen footmen, and laid her on his bed, jerking loose the high muslin collar about her throat. Several angry scratches slashed downward to her shoulder. He cursed as he quickly stripped off her clothing, furious with her, wishing he could strangle her, for she could be seriously hurt. He gazed down at the ugly, mottled bruising over her ribs, on her legs, and on her shoulders, at the many scratches and cuts, and drew a deep, steadying breath. It struck him with blinding force that she could easily have been killed. She’d managed to climb up that bloody cliff, by herself, in the dark, terrified. Oh, God, he didn’t think he could bear it. He pulled the covers to her neck.

Evangeline slowly opened her eyes to see the duke staring down at her. “Damn you,” he said.

“I fainted,” she said, astonished. “I’ve never fainted in my life. You took off my clothes. I’m a mess, but it’s nothing serious. My ribs aren’t broken, but it was a close thing for a while last night.”

He closed his eyes against her words because he himself had been out there searching. He knew the sheerness of that cliff, knew how she’d had to swim against that icy incoming tide even to gain the beach that gave onto the cliff. Then he looked down at her, murder in his eyes, and said, “I’m glad you didn’t kill yourself last night. Now I can kill you.”