A Heartless Design (13 page)

They had reached the dining room, and Thorne held out the chair for Cordelia.  He seated himself before replying.

“You shouldn’t assume too much about me, Miss Bering. But, since I have the honor of sitting beside you, I have another question having nothing to do with Hayden.”

“Excellent. What is it?”

“Who is Mr Lear?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

His tone was too nonchalant. “Your friend Mr Jay mentioned him the other day. Who is he?”

Cordelia bit her lip. She didn’t want to discuss the existence of Lear in public. She would be happier if no one connected her with the name at all. At least no one appeared to have overheard the remark in the bustle of sitting down.

“A friend of the family,” she said shortly. “I keep in touch with him. Mr Jay knows him as well.”

“An engineer like your father?”

“Yes,” she said unwillingly.

“I’d like to meet him,” Sebastien pressed. “Perhaps you could arrange an introduction.”

“He is extremely shy. I don’t know that he’d welcome a new acquaintance,” Cordelia said, hoping to put him off.

“As an acquaintance, I really can be rather charming.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that.”

“You haven’t found me so, Miss Bering?” He leaned back, the picture of a confident lord.

  She restrained herself from rolling her eyes. What arrogance. “If one judges an acquaintance by how much happier one becomes after starting it, I must admit that I find yours less than satisfying,” she said, reflecting on how much he had unsettled her brain since she met him.

“Most women find me quite satisfying,” he said in a lower voice.

Cordelia flushed instantly. She couldn’t believe he would say something so scandalous at a dinner table, in the presence of others. “Lord Thorne,” she hissed.

“I offended you,” he said quietly, contritely.

“Yes,” she whispered, staring at her plate.

“It’s possible we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Possible?” Cordelia arched an eyebrow at him.

“Certain. Would you accept an abject apology?” he asked.

“Are you offering one?”

“Yes.”

Cordelia looked at the man, her insides in turmoil. She wanted to ignore him, but something drew her to him as well. “Will you behave
like
a gentleman, then?”

“To the best of my ability.” He smiled then, as charmingly as possible.

“Then I accept your apology.”

Once dinner was served, Sebastien ceased his difficult questions, and Cordelia breathed a bit more easily. The talk turned to more general topics as guests bandied gossip and jokes around the table.

Aware that he’d been aggressive, Sebastien retreated a bit as dinner began. He now knew he couldn’t come on too strongly. He glanced at the other people around the table. His eye grazed Hayden, who was chatting with the woman next to him. She appeared to be amused.

Sebastien wasn’t. He had an instant and hearty dislike of Hayden. As soon as he saw the man dancing attendance on Cordelia, he wanted to toss him out onto the street. There was no reason for him to stand so close to her before dinner. Though he admitted that any man who didn’t notice how very well that evening dress fit her figure was either blind or dead. The curve of her breasts was damn distracting, and the exotic jade necklace she wore only drew more attention to her body. Thorne had never actually
envied
a piece of jewelry until tonight.

Sebastien put considerable effort into simply looking at her face, which carried dangers of its own. Cordelia’s green eyes were alight with intelligence. She had understood both layers of meanings in his words, while Hayden appeared to struggle along the surface.

And now, dinner brought new challenges. The lively conversation around the table amused her, and he heard her laugh for the first time. God, even her laughter was alluring. And her smile…he only once caught himself staring at her mouth, but that was enough to send a shock down his spine.

Her embarrassment at his earlier innuendo was unmistakable. Perhaps she wasn’t as experienced as he’d assumed. Perhaps she was even innocent, in every sense of the word. That would make his seduction of her a bit more difficult, and a lot less justifiable.

* * * *

Ignorant of the musings of her neighbor, Cordelia listened to the end of a story told by a gentleman who had just returned from a trip to America.  “…and I said to the man at my left, ‘Can you imagine going through life with the name of Barnacle?’ Well, he looked sympathetic and said ‘Indeed! I am grateful to be Mr Cheerybabble!’”

Everyone laughed, even though some suspected the details might have been embellished.

“But Americans are so odd, anyway!” one woman said.

The sentiment had a general consensus around the table. Then Thorne cleared his throat. “Speaking of odd names, I heard a strange one just the other day: Andraste. Mean anything to anyone?”

A sudden silence fell around the table. Cordelia looked sharply at Thorne.

“Anyone?” Thorne asked blandly. “Miss Bering?”

Before Cordelia could answer, the blonde woman across the table spoke up. “Andraste is the name of an ancient British goddess,” Miss Brecknell said. “I thought everyone knew that.”

“Not everyone reads Tacitus after dinner,” one of the other guests noted with asperity.

Miss Brecknell looked unfazed. “I refer to the work by Dio Cassius. But it’s true all the same. In his history, Queen Boudicca is described as praying to Andraste for aid in her battle against the Romans.”

“She didn’t pray hard enough,” Thorne noted, getting a general laugh. Cordelia was grateful the bluestocking Sarah Brecknell was so clever. She didn’t want to discuss the name at all.  

“A vicar would say that she prayed to the wrong god,” Miss Brecknell added. “Of course, anyone going against the might of the Roman army would probably pray to anything and everything that presented itself.”

“Truly ecumenical,” Cordelia said quietly. She tried to laugh a little, and was helped by Sarah Brecknell joining in.

“Indeed, Miss Bering!” the other lady said. “The desperate will ally themselves with almost anyone.”

“I hope to never be that desperate,” Cordelia returned, scanning both Hayden and Thorne anxiously. Where had Thorne heard that name?

“I also hope you’ll never be that desperate,” Hayden said, holding his wine glass up to her in salute. Though the words were supportive, his tone made her nervous. She wished that she had some pretense to stop him from paying his attentions to her. Of course, she could simply tell him to leave her alone. But something in her quailed at that idea. Hayden was frequently charming, attentive, and polite. But there was a very strange look in his eyes sometimes, almost cold. Somehow she knew he would not react well to being told to go away.

Involuntarily, she glanced toward Sebastien again. She was strangely conscious of his presence. She noted the shifts of his body, the slight variations in his tone when he spoke. Why could she not treat him as she did any other man? He offered compliments to her and jibes to Hayden with equal measure, but he never appeared to focus on either of them too much. Cordelia doubted if anyone else at the table noticed Thorne’s attention. Or was she imagining everything, overwrought from an odd week of encounters? By the time the dessert course was served, Cordelia was ready to climb the walls in an effort to escape.

Afterward, the ladies went to the drawing room for tea. The gentlemen, of course, all stood as the women filed out. They would linger briefly for a drink and smoke before rejoining the women.

Cordelia knew that Elly wanted to speak to her about the unexpected appearance of Thorne, but she needed a moment of peace. As the ladies passed through the hall, Cordelia murmured an excuse and left through a door that led to another wing of the house. Following a narrow and twisting hallway, she ducked into the first open room she found. It appeared to be the host’s study. The room was lined with books on one wall, with a reading desk set near the far end. A single light burned on the desk, leaving the room quite dim. She disliked intruding, but she would only need a moment to recover her balance. She must tell Hayden to stop his attentions. For the first time in years, Cordelia soundly regretted not having a male relative she could trust. If her father were alive, he would have dealt with this nonsense by now. Of course, if her father were alive, she would not be in this situation at all.

She had been in the room for perhaps three minutes when she heard something.

“Miss Bering,” a voice came behind her, shattering her nerves. “I hoped to have a moment alone with you.”

She whirled around. Hayden stood there, his eyes fixed on her, his smile charming but out of place.  

“Now is not the time,” she said.

“You fly like a bird, and I only want to be near you,” Hayden said, his voice mild. “Must you tease?”

She stood up straighter, anger overtaking fear. “Tease? How dare you follow me and then accuse me of leading you here? I wanted a moment alone!”

“And here we are. Alone.” He stepped nearer.

“I didn’t mean together. This is quite unacceptable. Leave me,” she ordered.

“I cannot.”

“Leave me,” she repeated.

But he only moved closer. “I wish I could, Miss Bering. Cordelia. You must let me say Cordelia.”

“Do not call me that. I am serious. Leave now.”

“No.”

“Then I will!” But he stood between her and the way out. Cordelia walked toward the door, giving him as wide a berth as the furniture in the room allowed.

The sudden appearance of a dagger in his hand stopped her cold. “You won’t leave, Cordelia. Not until you have given me the other half of the
Andraste
papers.”

She looked into his face, where the charm had drained away. All the months she had let him near her, as he pretended interest in her. He had only ever wanted the papers!

She lunged past him.
“Oh, no, you witch.” He darted toward her and grabbed her arm, twisting it painfully. “Don’t be stupid now. If you’d given in right away, I’d have just taken all the
Andraste
designs and left you. But you had to be difficult. And now I can’t wait any longer.” His eyes were bright in the glow of the table lamp, and Cordelia saw some kind of nervous excitement in them. His breathing came fast.

She asked, “How did you even know where they were? How did you know
what
they were?”

“Don’t be naive. There are always men interested in acquiring knowledge like the ship designs your sainted father made. And as for where they were, you told me yourself.”

“I did not!”

“Oh, you didn’t say it outright. But remember when I asked about your father’s study a few months ago? You showed me several things, but you never went near that locked cabinet. I even asked about it, and you tried to distract me. Knowing how clever you are, I backed off. Now what would be important enough to lock up and keep secret? I made a guess, and waited long enough that you wouldn’t connect my tour with the theft.”

“You courted me just so you could steal the papers and sell them?”

“No, darling. I intend to build the
Andraste
. Or a more useful version of it. Thanks to a few careless words by you, my associates were able to secure part of the necessary designs. But it can’t be finished without the other components. Give me the rest of the plans, and you’ll never see me again. You’ll be safe.”

“What do you mean, a more useful version?”

“Your father’s little boat has no guns. The real
Andraste
will.”

“You can’t do that,” she said, aghast.

“Of course I can.” He looked at her. “Adding guns to it will sink whole navies. You should be flattered, really. In fact, I might name the real ship after you. How does that sound? The
Cordelia
? Seems appropriate that it’s ironclad.” He laughed.

Scared now, Cordelia tried to twist out of his grasp, turning her back to him. But he was stronger than her.

“Let me go,” she warned him. “I’ll scream.”

“I’ll say you asked me here,” he hissed. “And they’ll believe me, especially if they find us in the dark.” With those words, he reached across the desk with one arm and doused the only light in the room.

Cordelia renewed her struggle to get free. “Let me go, you…bastard!”

“Such language for a lady! Not till you give me what I want. Tell me where the remainder of the papers are, and I’ll let you go as soon as I have them.” 

With those words, Cordelia felt his hand move away from her body. She breathed a sigh of relief, but then gasped. He was now holding something very sharp at her back. She had forgotten the dagger. Cordelia started to shake, real terror creeping up her spine. “What are you doing? You can’t get the papers if you kill me.”

Hayden withdrew the knife, and the sharp pricking sensation near her spine eased. But he forced her around so she had to back up against the desk. Then he held the knife to her throat. “You mean I can’t get them if I kill you
first
.”

“How do you think you can build a ship like
Andraste
in England without someone noticing?” she asked, desperate to distract him. “Who are you working for?”

Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, but the strange light coming in through the windows played tricks on her, too. She thought she saw another shape moving in the room, behind Hayden.

He didn’t notice her gaze. “Who do you think I’m working for, you idiot woman? Your father’s ship will be very valuable if we can build a whole fleet of them. Why should Britannia rule the seas? Other nations want to have a chance, and will pay for that chance. And as soon as I take the plans back to my employer, we’ll start building and change the world.” The knife blade was cold against her skin.

He reached for her with his open hand, intent on getting a hand around her throat. Leaning back as far as she could, she saw another person an instant before Hayden was abruptly pulled off her. She felt a streak of heat across her neck as the blade moved.

The struggle was a short one, and nearly silent. Hayden began to shout, but the new player clapped a hand over Hayden’s mouth, then twisted the man around to face him. The lamp was swept off the table to the floor.