Chapter Six
He was the epitome of the carelessly attractive male. Anna regarded him from his rumpled blond hair to his shirt sleeves, and even the casual way he reached for the bottle while poised, she suspected, to use it as a weapon if necessary. He reminded her of a large, dangerous cat who hadn’t yet decided whether to sleep or to hunt. Though he shot to his feet quickly enough when he recognized her.
“Anna.”
“Louis.”
“Every instinct tells me you have not come to while away the night in carnal pleasure. And yet, I can’t shake off my natural optimism.”
Anna, who was well aware of the one-sided nature of such pleasures, laughed at him. “Abandon hope,” she mocked. “I’ve merely come to look at your wounds and change your dressings. I assume you haven’t been near a doctor.”
“How did you find me?” Louis asked.
“There is only one hotel suitable for Sir Lytton. I bribed one of the maids to tell me which room you were in. She still gave me the evil eye.”
“I think she likes me. Does your brother know you are here?”
“Of course not. He is aware I have no interest in dalliance.”
There was a faint pause. Across the room, his eyes seemed to glitter. “Have you not?” he said with deliberation.
Her body flamed. Without meaning to in the slightest, she recalled the feel of his sensual lips on hers, the rough warmth of his jaw beneath the mask, the heat, the scent of his body so close to hers.
She lifted her chin. “You think that because I like you, I am prepared to be your lover?”
“As I say. I am optimistic by nature. Please, sit down. I only have brandy, I’m afraid, or I can send for tea.”
“No, thank you.” She untied the domino and threw it over the back of the sofa. It was only black because she had reversed it. “A simple disguise,” she observed. “More for Tamar and Serena’s sake than mine.”
“Where are Lord and Lady Tamar?”
“Enjoying supper, so I don’t have long,” She untied the mask, which had also been reversed, and threw it on top of the cloak before indicating he should sit on the sofa.
He didn’t obey at once. Disconcertingly, his gaze remained steady on her face for several seconds before it dropped unhurriedly to her throat and lower over the rest of her body.
“Louis,” she said impatiently, peeling off her long, silver-grey gloves.
A choke of laughter escaped him. “You have not come for dalliance,” he said, as though making an agreement, or perhaps just remembering. He advanced to the sofa, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it on the floor before he sat on the sofa. He clearly felt no modesty at thus revealing his broad, naked chest and his thickly muscled arms and shoulders.
For some reason, Anna’s throat felt dry. Somehow, it had been easier in the cold forest, by the lantern light, when he was simply a task, and not this very physical human being. She had never thought before that men could be beautiful.
He is still a task, she reminded herself. Nothing more and nothing less. He is merely, a harder task to accomplish than most.
Forcing herself, she went to him, her heart beating an annoying tattoo as she unwound his bandage. He’d changed it for himself, clearly, and hadn’t made a bad job of it. The wound itself looked clean and was clearly healing. She only hoped he was healing inside, too.
She nodded. “Do you think we should leave the stitches in for a little longer?”
“Yes,” he said, without further explanation.
She took the little jar from her reticule and, with a very odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, smeared the ointment over his wound.
“Do you always carry such things to a ball?” he asked.
“Everywhere,” she said. “Just in case.”
“How many wounded people do you encounter in a day?”
“You’d be surprised. But there is no room in my reticule for dressings. Do you have something clean I might use?”
“In the drawer by the bed.”
She knew his eyes followed her as she walked across the room and bent over the drawer in the bedside cabinet. “You have done this before,” she observed, taking the pads of soft cloth and closing the drawer.
“Like you, I am always prepared.”
“Then how did you come to be captured?” she retorted.
He smiled faintly, and she thought that Henry had been right. He had been prepared for capture, perhaps even intended it. Which presented another mystery.
“You are an enigma, Sir Lytton,” she said lightly.
“I try, in the hope it makes me more appealing,” He tilted his head, watching her as she bound his wound. His skin was warm and velvet-smooth whenever her fingers brushed against it. And she, who never touched anyone if she could avoid it, knew a sudden desire to lay her palms flat against his chest and his back. Which made her uncomfortable in a completely different way.
She drew in a breath. “Louis, if your own people are trying to kill you, you must come to some agreement with ours.”
His lips twisted. “Who would not, of course, ever consider killing me.”
“They wouldn’t,” she insisted. “Not if they knew you had severed ties with Bonaparte’s France.”
“France is still France, whoever claims to lead it.”
“Then you are prepared to take your knowledge to the grave?”
“That depends,” he said, cynically. “Is blind loyalty more appealing than mystery?”
“It is not me you have to appeal to.”
“Who, then?”
“I don’t know,” she said, carefully reserving Henry’s name for now. “But I can find out. My brother has a new-found ambition to go into politics, and Serena’s brother, the Earl of Brathwaite, will know exactly who you should talk to. Between us, we know many people who could help you.”
Having neatly tied his bandage, she swept his dropped shirt from the carpet and handed it to him. “It’s your only hope, Louis. Please think about it, because you will be discovered here eventually, by people who have no idea that you possess such knowledge. They might kill you from ignorance. I must go.”
She took a step away from him, but his hand closed around her wrist and her gaze flew back to his face. It bothered her that she had no urge to hit him.
“Will you tell them, Anna?” he asked steadily.
“I have kept silent this long.”
“Will you tell them?” he repeated.
She stared into his face, listening to the rapid beats of her own heart. “Even I have loyalty to my country.”
“The war is almost over. It will not matter soon.”
“It must matter or you would not have done what you have. Louis, you have my silence for the moment, but you need the protection of my government.” She meant it. Her urgency and sincerity must have stood out in her voice and face, for after a moment, he released her wrist.
“I almost believe you care,” he said flippantly.
“I care,” she muttered, hurrying around the sofa to grasp her domino, which she swung around her shoulders, black side outward.
The mask had fallen to the floor, but before she could retrieve it, he had already picked it up. “Turn around,” he said.
She almost snatched it. But he was her task. She obeyed, every nerve alert and sensitive as he slipped the mask over her eyes and tied it at the back of her head. The faint brush of his knuckles against her cheek, of his fingertips in her hair, set her skin tingling. Then he walked around and gazed down at her before making a minor adjustment to the mask’s position.
“Perfect,” he observed. When his gaze dropped to her lips, she couldn’t breathe for wondering how his kiss would feel if he did it from no motive but his own desire, with no one watching. She shivered, and it wasn’t all fear.
“Good night, Louis,” she said walked swiftly out the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Leaving the hotel, she walked back along the road to the assembly rooms, where the doorman merely bowed her discreetly back inside. She made her way to the ladies’ cloakroom where she changed her shoes once more, lingering a few moments until the ladies beside her left. Then she quickly reversed her mask and her cloak and returned to the ballroom, where it was almost time for the unmasking.
It came to Anna that with or without their outward disguises, she and Louis were always masked. She couldn’t understand why the thought made her sad.
*
The following day, Anna stayed in bed late, forgoing her usual ride since there was now no need to discover Louis’s whereabouts. At least, she hoped there was no need. She hoped he hadn’t done exactly as before and vanished as soon as she found him. But she could hardly go to the hotel undisguised and inquire without causing a great deal of talk.
She had made progress last night. Not only had he shown himself to her, but he had admitted to valuable knowledge. She might not yet have convinced him to tell all to her or to other servants of His Majesty, but she had sown the first seeds. And, providing she had “hooked” him—and she thought she had, to some degree at least—she would have more time to persuade him.
Her hope now was that he would pay a morning visit to the castle. After all, she had blatantly invited him in the hearing of both Tamar and Serena.
She lay for some time, listening to the fading patter of rain on her window, and then to the song of the birds as the wintry sun broke through, shining in her open curtains and onto her face. She liked the feeling of hope and comfort that filled her. It felt almost like…happiness.
Eventually, she rose and, with the aid of Nora, the housemaid who had been assigned to serve her during her stay, she washed and dressed in her more becoming day gown of delicate turquoise cambric. Having a high neck and graceful folds, she knew she looked well in it without it appearing deliberately seductive.
The breakfast room was full, since Serena and Tamar had risen to join their guests from Haven Hall, and the children were all demanding details of last night’s masquerade. Mrs. Elphinstone, the governess, looked somewhat tight-lipped at the apparent lack of discipline of the children in adult company, but neither Serena nor Mrs. Benedict appeared to find it unusual. Anna found it quite endearing, a charming balance between the untamed wildness of her own and Tamar’s upbringing, and the strictness of most noble households.
She could understand why Rupert was comfortable here, with Serena’s easy-going family. Although rumor had it the dowager countess was more of a high stickler. Without her, this all reminded her just a little of herself and the other Tamar children before.
She veered away from the memory, refusing to spoil the unusual gladness of the day. She stood on the front step with her brother and sister-in-law to wave off the Benedicts, and then prowled the castle until luncheon was served. She could settle to nothing, even reading from Braithwaite’s impressive library. Having spurned company since she had arrived, she felt she could not now request Rupert and Serena to join her in conversation, games or walks, just to pass the time. They had their own apartments in the old part of the castle.
During luncheon, she received a letter from Christianne, who regaled her with a couple of amusing domestic stories and passed on the news that Henry had, apparently, asked when Anna was coming home. In this, Anna recognized a summons. Henry was assuming her failure, on the basis of her past message, also sent via Christianne, that after initial fun, things at Blackhaven were not quite as expected.
At least the letter gave her something to do after lunch. Retreating to her own bedchamber, she wrote her reply, telling Christianne all about the masquerade, adding, after a moment’s hesitation that she had waltzed with a man whom she’d found quite entertaining. No doubt Henry would read that, too, and know to whom she referred. But she didn’t write it for Henry. She wrote it for her sister, because for some reason, she wanted her to know. For Henry himself, she wrote. Please tell Henry that I am amazed he looks for me so soon. I shall give him a longer reprieve since I am quite settled at Braithwaite Castle and enjoying myself immensely.
By the time she took her letter downstairs to add it to the others for posting, there were, finally, visitors in the drawing room. Her heart beating faster, Anna walked in. But there was no tall, fair man among the callers.
Mr. Banion had come, however, as had Rupert’s friend who had wished to dance with her. For lack of other amusements, she let them quarrel discreetly over her while her eyes strayed to the window in the hope of seeing a distant yet instantly recognizable figure riding up the winding drive.
Of course, she didn’t know if his stolen money would stretch to hiring a horse.
But eventually, the callers all left, and Anna began to feel uneasy. Had he truly vanished again? Gone for good, this time? If so, why had he sought her out?
Perhaps he has been recognized and recaptured… Which wouldn’t be so very bad, for she could arrange the escape she had intended for him when she first left London. On the other hand, if the French had got to him…
She shivered.
“Who is that, I wonder?” Serena said from the window. “Another of your admirers, Anna?”
Without much interest, Anna sauntered up to the window in time to see a figure just striding out of her view. “I can’t tell from the top of his hat,” she said. “Do you know, I might walk into Blackhaven. Would you care to come?”
“I think I would rather go in the carriage. It’s sure to rain. But we could go and beard Rupert in his studio, if you like. I suspect that’s where he’s gone, and you haven’t seen it yet. We could be not at home to whoever this is.”
“What an excellent idea,” Anna approved, just as the footman entered with a card on a tray, which he presented to Serena.
“Thank you, James…” Her eyes lifted to Anna’s face. “Sir Lytton Lewis. Are we at home?”
The news, which she had given up hoping for, made Anna smile, though at the same time, Serena’s arch look brought embarrassed color to her cheeks.
“What can another half hour matter?” Anna said carelessly. “I shall be at home.”
“Then I shall play chaperone.” Serena said, nodding to the footman who trotted off again. “What a pity Tamar has sloped off. He could have done a little more glaring.”
“Oh, I think he gave that up. They were playing cards together before supper.”
Serena gave an unladylike snort of laughter, just as Sir Lytton was announced, and Louis strolled into the drawing room.
He was perfectly dressed in skin-tight pantaloons and a dark blue coat over a tastefully embroidered waistcoat. His snowy white cravat was simply tied but would not have disgraced the most fashionable in London society. As he bowed over the ladies’ hands and enquired politely after their health, Anna wanted to laugh, because he understood the banal rituals of English society so well.
Serena ordered fresh tea and invited her guest to sit, which he did, though not on the sofa beside Anna. Instead, he sat closer to Serena, directing most of his conversation at her. Perhaps Anna would have been piqued had he not caught her gaze as she brought his cup of tea, and discreetly but definitely winked.
After that, she sat back and watched. Was he playing a part, or was this simply Louis as he would be in his real life? Once he had gauged Serena’s character, he relaxed more, answering her humorous quips with his own, and drawing Anna so subtly into the conversation that she barely noticed he had done it. If their roles had been reversed, if he had been seeking information from her, she suspected she would have succumbed in minutes without realizing what she’d said until too late.
“Did you ride up from town?” Serena inquired.
“No, I walked.”
“Well, Anna and I mean to drive into Blackhaven, so you are welcome to a seat in the carriage.”
It must have taken some effort to walk up to the castle and it seemed to Anna that he was genuinely grateful for the offer. There was a moment, when, during the confusion of fetching cloaks and bonnets, Anna found him alone in the entrance hall, waiting for her and Serena.
“Are you well?” she asked as she approached him. “Is something wrong? Something else!” she corrected herself with a rueful smile.
“No, I am merely obeying your command to call.”
She lowered her voice as she came to a halt beside him. “Have you thought more about how to solve your problem?”
“What problem?” he countered, provokingly. “I am exactly where I wish to be.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“I’m waiting for someone.”
She curled her lips. “And that someone is clearly not me as you claimed at the ball. Behold my devastation.”
He gazed upward and turned, taking in his surroundings. “Ah, if only I thought that was true. I had many plans that did not include you. I chose this one. The castle must be a magnificent place to grow up in.” He glanced at her, perhaps hoping his sudden change of subject had confused her. “Is your home like this, too?”
She laughed. “Lord, no. Well, it probably was once. Tamar Abbey is a great medieval pile in Cornwall, acquired by no doubt nefarious means, by our ancestor from Henry the Eighth. When we were growing up, it was already falling around our ears from neglect and lack of funds to repair it. We had fun there, for a little, but it was more like playing in a huge ruin than living in a grand house.”
A faint smile played around his lips. “I can see you in such a place. Was there just you and Tamar?”
“God, no. We have two other brothers, and my twin sister, Christianne.”
“Twin?” he repeated. “You mean there are two of you?”
She laughed. “Oh, no. Christianne is nothing like me. Well, we may look alike, but there it ends. Christianne is the best of us.”
“But she is not here with you?”
“No. She is in London with her husband.”
“Another great nobleman?”
“No, a lowly gentleman who actually works for his living. A civil servant.” She stepped closer. “But he may know someone who could help you.”
His eyes locked to hers, searching, yet giving nothing away. Even so, she somehow had the impression of thoughts flitting furiously through his mind. Not all good thoughts. Had she blundered?
Since Serena came hurrying downstairs at this point, Anna merely turned and walked toward the door.
A quarter of an hour later, they alighted from the carriage in Blackhaven’s High Street in front of a milliner’s shop. Louis handed the ladies down and Serena said carelessly. “Come with us, if you like. We’re going to interrupt Tamar in his studio, where he may be hard at work or holding an impromptu party.”
Serena, it seemed, had few illusions about her husband.
“In either case,” Louis pointed out, “I can’t imagine he would be pleased to see us.”
“On the contrary, he’s always pleased to see people. People he likes, at any rate.”
Rupert was indeed discovered in his studio, entertaining a couple of disreputable looking friends and painting at the same time. The friends looked somewhat alarmed at their arrival, though Rupert himself appeared delighted.
He worked amongst the same kind of clutter Anna remembered, but amiably shoved and kicked things aside to make way for them and offered “Lewis” a glass of brandy.
Anna took in the huge number of paintings leaning in piles against the walls as well as hanging on every available space. “I never dreamed you were quite so industrious.”
“Oh, a lot of them are mere dross, pieces that didn’t work or were too dull to finish,” Rupert said modestly.
“But you may still find a few hidden gems,” Serena told her.
“What are you working on now?” Louis asked, approaching him to look.
With his paintbrush, Tamar pointed commandingly away from his easel. “I’ll show you if it works.”
Louis bowed ironically and examined the paintings on the wall instead.
Anna wandered the one-room cottage which was her brother’s studio, examining paintings at random. Crouching down in the far corner, she flicked through the unframed canvasses stacked there, until, near the back, she came upon a caricature of a stout, self-important little man, his eyes all but popping out of his head as he grasped greedily at money falling from various different hands scattered around the edges. His expression was avaricious and unpleasant, but that wasn’t what drove Anna backward so quickly that she clattered into the paintings piled under a little window. She recognized him.
“Anna?” came Serena’s concerned voice.
But Louis was already there, crouched in front of her. “What is it?” he asked urgently. Only then could Anna wrench her gaze away from the caricature. Louis was looking from her to the picture and back.
Anna tried to laugh. “Nothing. It is just an ugly picture.”
Rupert strode over and swept it up, breaking it over his knee and throwing the bits into the corner. “Christ, I’m sorry, Anna, I forgot it was there. I thought I’d burned it with the other rubbish.”
Anna swallowed. “Where is he?”
“Gone. Defeated. Powerless.”
She looked up at her brother over Louis’s head. “Your doing? Again?”
“Partly. Mostly Serena’s.”
Anna’s gaze flickered to her sister-in-law. How much did Serena know? God, how much was she giving away at this moment? She drew in a breath, trying to gather her wits, her hard shell, her knowledge that no one would hurt her ever again.
To her surprise, she found that Louis was holding both her hands, helping her to rise to her feet. And she was clinging to his fingers as if they were her only salvation.
Appalled by her weakness, she pulled her hands free. She couldn’t look at him. Instead, she hurried across to Tamar’s drinking friends, to make some witty observation on the picture above their heads, as if it had just caught her attention. They laughed and she sat beside them, strangers she could wrap around her finger and enslave for practice, just until the trembling had stopped.
“Serena, what about this hat shop of yours?” she called, jumping to her feet. “Are we too late, or may we go now?”