Beyond a Doubt Page 7

  “Aye lass, ye are safe and I won’t leave ye again.”

  A sigh escaped her parted lips as unconsciousness overtook her once more.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The first thing she remembered was intense warmth, followed by a pleasing aroma of food wafting through her nostrils. And then there was the sound of a familiar voice.

  “Hullo, sleepyhead.”

  “Where am I?” Lucy asked.

  “In an inn.”

  “But how?”

  Bryce shrugged. “Best I understand, a con artist won ye from the troupe master and was carting ye off to his lands. Rode right past me, he did, and I stopped him and won ye back.”

  Shock registered upon Lucy’s face. “What? You gambled? That doesn’t seem like something you would do. Perhaps this is a dream.”

  She placed her hand on the bed and pushed upward. Sharp stabbing pains ran the length of her body, causing a swift intake of breath.

  “I think ye should rest.”

  Her hand fell out from under her, and she dropped back onto the bed. “Why am I so warm?”

  A chuckle rent the air. “The innkeeper’s wife didn’t want ye to catch cold.”

  “That would not be possible. I feel like I’m going to melt.”

  The sound of his deep, throaty laughter brought a smile to her face. At least for now his shyness had abated and she was grateful. She needed to share her experience with someone.

  “I don’t remember too much. I mean, I remember riding with the troupe for a short distance. Then the troupe master stopped and entered a small building. The rest of us waited. When he returned, he summoned us inside. I have vague memories of walking into a room as dark as a cave and then nothing.” A spot on her head ached. When she rubbed the spot she felt a knot. One of the players must have struck her. Moving on, Lucy asked, “You said you saw me riding on the back of another person’s horse? How was such a thing possible? You couldn’t have been that close to Carlisle.”

  An uncomfortable shifting occurred. “I was movin’ slow.”

  “Why?” Lucy asked, holding her breath as she waited for his response.

  Bryce shrugged.

  There was that infernal movement. This time she couldn’t let it slide. “Bryce, please answer me. Why did you leave town so slowly?”

  “Guess I didn’t want to part with ye. Maybe I missed ye.”

  “Oh.”

  He stared at his fingers with intense interest while he kept talking. “I was worried about ye. Those men didn’t seem the safest of company and I feared for yer safety.”

  “But you said you missed me?”

  “True. It was quieter than usual.”

  “I thought maybe you missed me and not just my noise.”

  “Maybe a little.”

  The grin that split her face couldn’t be helped. Whether Bryce admitted it or not, he liked her. So much so that he had been unwilling to just race away.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “What do ye mean?”

  “I mean, what do we do now? My trip to London is no less important and now I am without escort.”

  “Aye, this is true.”

  “Perhaps we might catch the troupe before they get too far ahead.”

  “I think not.”

  “But—“

  “I will escort ye.”

  “Are you certain, because—“

  “I will escort ye.”

  The words brooked no argument and Lucy readily accepted.

  Lucy spent the next few days recuperating while Bryce waited on her hand and foot. He brought her food. Kept the fire going at all times. Attended to her every request, although she tried not to make that many. Why, one night, he even massaged her feet.

  What little belongings she owned had been left behind with the players, except for the dress she wore and the tiny leather pouch, which never left her wrist. They would need to purchase more gowns and essentials for her before they left the village.

  As she was pondering these thoughts, the housemistress entered the room. Snug in a huge, four-poster bed, Lucy learned why she had received the best room in the house. Without questioning from Lucy, the woman spoke.

  “Yer man is a hard worker, never seen another like ‘im.”

  “Pardon?”

  She fluttered her hand. A dreamy expression settled upon her face. “Handsome, he is. And very handy. Why, he’s built me a whole set of cabinets, he has. Even chiseled out a design upon them. Best craftsmanship I’ve seen in these parts. Several people ‘ave offered him more work, but he says he’ll only do for me.

  “Can ye believe such loyalty? The laddy keeps his word. Said he would work for yer room and board, and a horse for ye, and that’s what he’s done.”

  Pride swelled within her breast. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Nay, lassie. Young Bryce has taken care of everything. Ye just heal.”

  The elderly woman blew out of the room like a whirlwind. Lucy lay back on a pile of pillows and sighed. Her limbs felt like mush. If she didn’t get up and move around when she was alone, she’d be completely unable to when the time to leave arrived.

  A pallet lay upon the hard stone floor, and as Lucy stood up and began walking, she stumbled on it, fell on her bottom, and cried out in pain. Rubbing the ache, Lucy frowned.

  These few thin blankets were the bed upon which Bryce had spent the last few nights? Sitting there now, she could feel every imperfection in the floor. How had Bryce been able to rest?

  Bryce flung the door open and it crashed against the wall. He rushed to her side. “Are ye hurt?”

  “How do you sleep here?”

  Bryce ignored the question, scooped her into his arms, and carried her to bed. “Ye shouldn’t be up.”

  “But I need to move. Otherwise how will we make it to London?”

  “Ye will ride a horse.”

  “I know, but occasionally I might have to leave the beast, at least temporarily.” Lucy lifted her brow, hoping he got her meaning.

  Bryce cleared his throat, his cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. “I see.”

  “Now you understand why I insist on movement.”

  “Aye. Do ye need assistance?”

  A giggle erupted. “I believe I’ll be all right. Just allow me to move. By the way, how many days have I been this way?”

  “Maybe three.”

  “Three days! I have to get out of here now.” As she stood, dizziness overcame her and she reached out to catch the bedpost, but Bryce was before her.

  The tunic he wore opened to the middle of his chest. Her hand rested upon his bare flesh. Beneath her fingertips his heart fluttered erratically. His throat moved as he gulped.

  “Are ye all right?” escaped his lips in a breathless rush.

  “Aye,” came her answer, equally breathless.

  “Ye should sit down.”

  Bryce assisted her to a chair. His gaze never wavered from her pinched face. “Sit up for awhile. That will help yer lightheadedness. Then we will begin walkin’ around.”

  She nodded as he silently slipped out the door, leaving her to her own devices.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Secure in the knowledge that Charles was as clueless as he, Gustav returned to Caen, France. Another agent tailed Charles lest he searched the trunk and happened to find something of use.

  Gustav’s first order of business required he meet with Jean Broussard. The last word received from Jean had stated “Joshua”, L.L.’s contact on the outside, was being sought. Their hope was that Joshua had seen L.L. at one time or another and could give them a clue as to the agent’s identity.

  Gustav entered Jean’s house. The door to his office was cracked and an argument could be heard from within.

  “I don’t care about his secret identity! He is not supposed to be secret from me! This is why we pay the gent.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but he won’t come.”

  “This is preposterous! The Admiral�
�s life hangs in the balance.”

  “All our lives hang in the balance.”

  Gustav peered through the crack. Inside Jean paced, stomping hard with every step. He picked up objects and threw them crashing against alternate walls. “You tell Joshua if he doesn’t meet with me and tell me everything he knows about L.L., then we will no longer require his services. And all those posh hotels and comforts of the rich he so readily enjoys will dry up like that.” Jean snapped his fingers and the sound echoed in the room.

  The man bowed. Hastily he exited, bumping into Gustav on the way out. Jean had his back to the door, and he turned at the sound of Gustav’s soft footfalls.

  “Back already. Oh Gustav, it’s you. I presume you have nothing new to report. Just like everyone else in this infernal world.”

  “Correct, sir.”

  “This Joshua character is proving difficult. He sent another in his stead, not wishing to sacrifice his “secret identity”. Not even to me! Can you believe such nonsense?”

  “Sir, perhaps if you agreed to meet at a place of his terms.”

  With a thoughtful tap upon his head, Jean said, “Perhaps.”

  “To come to your office does make people wonder about one’s profession and beliefs, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of Jean’s lips. “Indeed.” With a thoughtful expression on his face, Jean lifted his finger as if he’d had an epiphany. He bellowed, “James!”

  A small bowed-over man rushed to the door. He wore wrinkled, overly large clothing and seemed to have a difficult time staying upright because of the pointed shoes he wore.

  “James, send word to Joshua that we will meet at a place of his choosing.”

  The man scrunched his nose, twitched his lips, nodded, and scurried away like a tiny mouse.

  “That should do it. Now we wait.”

  And wait they did. Jean had chewed his nails down to nothing and Gustav wouldn’t have been surprised if the man hadn’t asked to borrow his with which to do the same.

  When word came of the meeting place, Jean jumped to his feet, grabbed his coat, and ran toward the door. The nervous delivery boy stuttered out the instructions and Jean put his coat back in place and resumed chewing the skin on his fingers.

  “This is unconscionable. First the man makes us wait for days, and then his message is to attend a royal ball. And one where the King will be in attendance.”

  “Less likely to arouse suspicion that way,” Gustav stated.

  “Agreed, but still, to walk into a snake’s den and portray yourself as a tasty rat doesn’t seem wise.”

  “I’m sure Joshua knows what he is doing or he wouldn’t have been alive so long.”

  “And just how long is that, Gustav? We don’t know if this is Joshua number one or number one hundred! Why, the very idea of giving the same name to your agents is outrageous.”

  “Whatever the number, sir, they continue to protect our interests and our kind.”

  Jean nodded and the discussion ended. The two of them dressed befitting royalty and left for the ball that afternoon. Instead of holding the festivities at Caen Castle, the event would occur in the courtyard of Hotel d’Escoville. The large archways, huge stone pillars, and detailed sculptures were decorated for the evening’s event.

  In honor of King Henry II and his son Francis’ visit to Caen, the local nobles had arranged the ball. For most, the event was an honorable occasion. But for a few, those who believed in a controversial religion, the Catholic King and his presence only meant danger.

  Jean Broussard and Gustav arrived in a gilded carriage. Jean was wearing a suit of maroon velvet. His jacket was trimmed in a thick gold cord and secured by glittering gold buttons. Instead of wearing his Venetian chopines, he wore a more rounded shoe convenient for dancing.

  Gustav had gone with a simpler look, a suit of pale blue linen trimmed in silver. He pulled back his light brown hair with a silver ribbon. He passed by a mirror and smiled at his reflection. In the moonlight his green eyes glowed like emeralds. Too bad this trip wasn’t for pleasure. Giggling maids passed and Gustav tipped an imaginary hat, sending the lot of them into a tizzy.

  “Do try to focus.”

  “I’m always focused.”

  Jean rolled his eyes and shook his head. “How will we find Joshua in this influx of bodies? It will be quite impossible.”

  “I’m sure we need not worry.”

  Gustav was right. After snacking for hours upon the buffet tables, and dancing until his feet grew sore, Gustav found a place outside, leaned against the wall, and rested. A server approached him. The man, covered in plain gray and light blue livery, blended in with the outside scenery.

  “Psst.”

  Gustav answered out of the corner of his mouth. “Aye?”

  “You asked to speak with someone. They await ye outside.”

  The man disappeared. Gustav rose from his relaxed position and headed to the garden. With all the guests, Joshua was almost impossible to discern. Had the man not spoken, Gustav wouldn’t have located him at all.

  “Do not turn around, do not speak, only listen. You are searching for L.L. And you wish to discover if I know the agent’s whereabouts. All I can tell you is the agent and I cross paths somewhere in London within the coming week. I attend parties, public events, and follow a planned schedule. Through these events I’m contacted. Never the same way twice and never in person. I know you thought I could reveal L.L.’s identity but I’m afraid I can’t help you. However, here is a list of my itinerary for next week’s London visit.”

  Gustav caught the paper as it fluttered to the ground. When he looked up Joshua was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  On their last day of the two hundred mile journey from Carlisle to London, Lucy sat by a small lake. The water was covered by fog. A cool wind passed her way, sending a chill down her spine. She pulled the shawl tighter around her trembling frame.

  “Are ye ready?”

  As ready as she would ever be, Lucy climbed astride the horse and they rode into the abandoned streets. Eerily quiet in the wee morning hours, London reminded her of a graveyard.

  The large house stared at her, opposing, ominous, and dark. A secret key was hidden in a pot on the porch.

  She opened the door and dusty sheets billowed with the burst of air. Lucy headed to the windows and jerked open curtains, allowing rays of sunlight to stream through the dirt-covered panes.

  “Is this yer home?”

  Bryce’s voice startled her. Before she could answer, the sound of an alarm drew her attention. A tiny brass clock rested upon the mantel, its alarm blaring. When the noise stopped, Lucy left the room and ran through the house.

  She checked every room, ending back where she started. Lucy frowned.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “The clock. It chimed. That only happens so long before it has to be rewound. And I’ve been gone a long time.”

  “Do ye want me to search the house?”

  Lucy shook her head. “No one is here. Maybe the spring stuck again and delayed the alarm. That happens sometimes.” She said the words but she didn’t believe them. Gnawing her lip, she studied Bryce. Could he tell she doubted her own explanation?

  Bryce didn’t ask any more questions and Lucy was grateful. Leading him through the hallway, she picked a room for his stay. He hesitated but finally went inside with his meager belongings. Bryce scratched his head, then he placed his hands to his sides, next he moved them to his hips. The palpable awkwardness upset her, but Lucy couldn’t help him right now.

  Once Bryce entered his room and turned his back to her, she fled. Inside her old bedroom, she pilfered through drawers. A tiny scrap of paper rubbed her fingertips and she grabbed it, squeezing it tightly in her hand.

  They’d done it again. The alarm had been her first clue. The list was all the confirmation she needed.

  The parchment contained a full week of activities. Worrying her lip, she studied t
he information. Instinct caused her to touch the leather pouch. The fan still rested within, poking her through the material.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Lucy lifted her head, and placed her hand to her wildly beating heart.

  “Sorry lass, I didn’t mean to startle ye. I hate to intrude but we need to place the horses in yer stable and then find something to eat. I’m starvin’.”

  The smile he displayed kept her worries at bay. Her hand clasped his and she directed him to the kitchen. They checked the cabinets and came up empty.

  “Looks like a trip to the market is in order,” she said.

  Bryce waited while Lucy raced upstairs. She perused the list. No market day was listed.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she cradled her head in her hands. Her belly growled but she ignored the hunger pains. New worries beset her troubled mind. Like how to deliver her message without alerting Bryce?

  If he knew what she planned, he would never approve.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The market was hectic. People threw packages of raw meat over Lucy and Bryce’s heads. Hawkers stood beside stands and argued loudly over the price of every item, from a piece of fruit to a bolt of cloth.

  Packs of raw vegetables and a loaf of bread lay in Bryce's arms. Normally a man who enjoyed vast quantities of meat, Bryce would willingly give up his favorite food to leave this place behind.

  Lucy slid through the crowd with ease. Her short stature and tiny frame allowed her to maneuver through the people and stalls. The largeness of his own body created a problem in the tight quarters. At one point the lass escaped his vision and an onset of trepidation took hold.

  Taller than most individuals, Bryce scanned the ground from above. When he spotted a head of brown hair, he saw that it was Lucy haggling over a handful of apples. Bryce moved closer.

  “Too much.”

  “Nay, if you don’t buy it someone else will.”

  “I doubt it. Everything here is bruised and half-rotted. You’ll be lucky if you can give this stuff away.”