Exile for Dreamers (40 page)

 

Twenty-seven

THE VOW

Captain Grey offered to carry me up to the house, but I assured him that would not be necessary. “I rather think walking might put a stop to this infernal rocking and sloshing going on in my head.”

“Ah.” He nodded as if he'd experienced the feeling. “It might at that.”

It was Gabriel I worried about. He was so tall and broad, how would we haul him up the cliffs?

He grumbled at me for even suggesting the idea. “My chest is torn open, Tess, not my legs. I am perfectly capable of making it up those cliffs.”

All the same, Captain Grey and Lord Wyatt insisted that Gabriel walk between them on the hike up to the bluffs. We finally straggled to the top and were making our way to the house when Miss Stranje came running out, flapping toward us like a raven in the night. She carried a blanket, and the minute she reached me she wrapped it around me.

The fact that she carried a blanket surprised me. “You knew I'd jump.”

“Oh, my dear sweet girl, of course I did.” She pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I knew you would get away.” She turned with a grateful smile to Captain Grey. “And that they would find you.”

“Ravencross needs this more than I.” I handed the blanket back. “Without him I would've drowned. His stitches are torn out, and he—”

She was already rushing to his aid.

Sera raced up, her elfin features twisted with worry. She clasped me as if I had returned from the dead. Although she is slight and weighs no more than air, she hugged me fiercely and didn't let go. A rush of feelings flowed from her and warmed me better than Miss Stranje's blanket. Sera's shoulders quaked and, in strangled fits and starts, she managed to say, “I was afraid we'd lost you.”

If she were my little sister I couldn't have loved her one ounce more. I didn't know what to say or how to comfort her. So I teased her with false bravado. “You needn't have been afraid. It would take a great deal more than Lady Daneska to do me in.”

“Indeed.” She swiped away the tears on her cheek and grinned at that, shining brighter in that dark night than even the moon.

“Madame Cho?” I asked. “How is she?”

She caught her lip pensively. “Her chin required a few sutures but it will mend. But the injury to her head was quite severe.” Sera guided me into the house.

Miss Stranje caught up to us. “When Madame Cho regained consciousness, her first words were asking after you. You can go see her as soon as we get you out of those wet clothes.”

“But Gabriel—”

She tugged me aside as Lord Wyatt and Captain Grey helped Gabriel up the stairs. “The doctor is here and the men will see to changing his clothes. There's nothing you can do for him until after the doctor has examined him and taken care of what must be done.”

I was dismissed. She followed the men up, issuing directions as to which spare room to put Lord Ravencross in, and sending Philip to fetch the doctor from Madame Cho's room.

“Come.” Sera urged me up the stairs.

“What of Mr. Chadwick?” I asked, worried he might still be lurking about.

“We sent him home as soon as Miss Stranje realized you weren't coming back to the dining room. She guessed something was wrong. I saw her check the clock on the mantel at least three times. Not fifteen minutes passed before she feigned a severe headache and sent him packing.” Sera's eyebrows lifted as if she found some private joke amusing. “Of course he knew she was pretending. Poor Mr. Chadwick, his curiosity about us is nearly driving him mad. Fortunately, I suspect he is far too polite to do anything about it.”

“I wouldn't be too sure.”

Sera helped me change and we slipped into Madam Cho's room.

Maya sat in a chair by the bed. She rose immediately when she saw me and hugged me gently, kissing each of my cheeks. “I knew you would escape.”

“I wish I could've been so certain.” I smiled awkwardly, unaccustomed to so much affection. “How is she?”

The three of us turned to look at our teacher. Madame Cho's head was bandaged awkwardly, leaving tufts of her dark hair sticking out around the edges. “She looks so very pale.”

Maya squeezed my hand. “The doctor dosed her with laudanum. Our main concern is that she holds steady through the night.”

“May I sit with her for a while?”

She nodded, and I took her chair. They stood beside me for a bit longer, watching the rise and fall of our patient's chest. “They've situated Lord Ravencross in the guest bedroom,” I explained quietly to Maya. “But they won't let me see him. He tore open the old wound. Will you two please see if you can find out anything?”

Maya rested her hand on my shoulder for a moment. “We will. But you must not worry. He is very strong.”

“Even strong men die of infection,” I said.

Maya swept a lock of hair back and tucked it behind my ear. “Fear will not keep infection away.”

I nodded, too weary to argue. They left and I leaned forward, resting my head on the bed beside Madame Cho. The sound of her breathing comforted me. When I'd been younger and alone in the house, she would sometimes come to the dormitorium and sleep in the bed across from mine, especially after I'd had a bout of bad dreams. The sound of her even breathing was like a soothing lullaby.

Ours was a wordless kinship. We shared the joy of strength and movement. I relished sparring with her, whether with sword, knife, or staff. She always challenged me to fight harder, smarter, faster. She'd given me a deep appreciation for a perfectly timed throw and taught me to anticipate movements in a fight as easily one does a partner's dance steps.

And we both understood the relentless instruction of pain.

I glanced up when her breathing faltered. “Fight,” I whispered the words she'd urged me on with so often. “You must fight.”

A moment or two later she fell back into the familiar breathing pattern and I laid my head down again, too exhausted to hold it up.

I don't know how much time passed before I felt Cho's hand stroke my hair. I grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. “You're awake.”

“Water,” she rasped.

I helped her sip from a cup rigged with one of Georgie's slender glass tubes. She finished drinking and issued an order in a gravelly voice. “You look terrible. Go rest.”

“Thank you for the pretty compliment.” I stroked her hand. “But I'm staying right here.”

“You need not stay. I have no fear of death, child.” She breathed heavily and closed her eyes.

“Exactly,” I whispered, not sure if she still heard me. “Which is why I must stay here and make certain you don't give up on life too easily.”

“Why should I not?” Her old eyes flashed open, shining black in that dim light, hard and sharp, like two dagger points of obsidian. “You do.”

“Not anymore.” I clutched her hand and kissed it, and a tear slipped free and burned down my cheek, and then another.
Never again would I give up without a fight.
“Never again.”

Madame Cho's lips spread in a contented smile. “Good.” Her eyes closed and she drifted back to sleep.

A half hour later, Maya and Sera came back and delivered their report.

“We listened at the door,” Maya confessed, as if the activity compromised her dignity.

“They must've dumped a great deal of alcohol on the wound because we could smell it from outside the door.” Sera looked worried. “Not only that, but I heard Lord Ravencross grumble about it being a waste of perfectly good whiskey.”

Maya hesitated and then said, “The doctor asked for Miss Stranje to hand him his scalpel and the sulfur powder, and to thread his needle.”

Sera shifted uncomfortably. “So they must've cut away the damaged flesh and taken more stitches. After that it was just, you know…”

“Groans,” I said.

They both nodded.

I left Madame Cho in their care and took off down the hall, where I paced up and down in front of Gabriel's room. My frustration boiled up and was ready to bubble over. I raised my hand, ready to pound on the door, when Miss Stranje opened it and stepped out into the hall.

“He's asleep now. We've given him laudanum. There's no sign of infection. Not yet. The doctor will sit with him through the night to make certain he doesn't become feverish.”

I let out the breath I'd been holding.

“You, young lady, must get some rest. We will need a full accounting of events from you in the morning. Be at breakfast. We've plans to make.”

I stared at her. Did she actually expect me to sleep while he was in pain? Apparently she did, because she shooed me down the hall as if I were a goose rooting around in her garden.

*   *   *

I fully intended to sneak into his room during the wee hours of the morning. But I am ashamed to say I drowsed and fell fast asleep. My only excuse was that I was exhausted. I awoke to find the sun was already up and it was time to go down to breakfast.

Miss Stranje caught up to me in the hallway outside the breakfast room. “Madame Cho is much improved this morning. Seeing you last night must've been a tonic.”

“Wonderful.” I smiled, greatly relieved. “Since I am such a tonic, when can I see Gabriel?”

Her back straightened and she turned very stiff and formal. “The doctor left orders this morning that Lord Ravencross is to be confined to bed for a few days until we can be sure the new stitches will hold. I certainly can't allow you to visit a gentleman's bedroom. That would not only bring shame to my establishment, it would put you in complete disgrace.”

“But I have already visited in his—”

“Hush.” She held up one finger. “Regardless of what you may or may not have done in the past, in my house you will behave within the bounds of propriety.”

We strolled into her sunny yellow breakfast room, but it might as well have been painted a dismal storm gray, for such was my temperament.

In terse sentences I related the events of the previous evening. When I explained that Lady Daneska had been free of her manacles since the second day of her imprisonment here, Captain Grey set down his fork and stared out the window.

“I wondered why she had been so easy to capture in Rye.” He spoke softly, as if it pained him to admit it.

At this Lord Wyatt added, “It did seem a bit too easy.” He and Georgie exchanged worried glances.

Miss Stranje tilted her head, studying the captain. “Then Lady Daneska wanted to be our prisoner all along. Knowing Rye was closer to Stranje House than to London, she would be fairly certain you would bring her here for questioning rather than London.”

Captain Grey set his fork on his plate and sat back stiff shouldered. “I'm afraid we played straight into her hands.”

“No matter.” Mr. Sinclair finished a bite of his blueberry scone and dusted off his fingers. “It all turned up right in the end. They found the dummy plans, so at least they won't be hunting me for the time being.”

Captain Grey agreed. “Yes, and the sooner we get you, the real plans, and the prototype to London so Lord Castlereagh and the foreign office can have a look at it, the better.”

“How soon will you be going?” Jane very carefully set down her glass, as if the lemon water were so precious it must not incur even the smallest ripple.

Captain Grey answered, “Tomorrow, or the next day, as soon as the craft is ready for travel and the plans and notes are ready.”

To this she merely swallowed and stared at her plate for a moment. “Sera and I have finished the drawings and notes. They are ready.” She said this in a flat, listless tone. “But are you sure it's safe to transport everything so soon? We have yet to determine who let Ghost into the house to steal the false plans.”

It was as if we were back on the ship and just dropped over a huge wave. The scone slipped out of my fingers and fell on the plate. “Someone let Ghost in?”

Sera, who had been aimlessly pushing bits of a kipper around her plate, answered without looking up. “I checked everything. All the windows were locked tight, even in the kitchen and servants' quarters. There were no signs indicating he forced his way in.”

I remembered something Ghost had said. “They knew,” I blurted. “They
knew
where the plans would be. Ghost said,
They were right where they were supposed to be.
As if he and Daneska had been told where to look.” I turned to Jane and Sera. “How did you know to make the misleading documents?”

Jane pursed her lips. Sera looked down at the demolished kipper on her plate.

“Sera and Jane suspected we might have another traitor in the house.” Miss Stranje slowly turned the stem of her water glass. “They came to me and we discussed making the falsified drawings and notes. It was done in secret because we were concerned about whom to trust.”

“You didn't trust even me?” I asked.

“Of course we trust you. But have you forgotten the original plan?” Jane acted as if I'd insulted her loyalty and not the other way around. “The plan was that the two of you would escape. If Lady Daneska had turned on you, we didn't want you to have to hide any more information than necessary.”

I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself. “Do you know who did it? It can't be one of us. We were all at the celebration. Can it?” Inside I was screaming, we can't have another traitor. Not again.
Not again
.

Miss Stranje gave a quick shake of her head. “We don't know. Not yet. We will discuss the matter at another time.”

The thought that someone in the house had betrayed us made my head hurt and my breakfast churn almost as badly as it had after swallowing all that salt water the night before.

The remainder of morning was taken up with planning the trip to London. Mr. Sinclair, the captain, and Lord Wyatt would sail the
Mary Isabella
east, then through the channel and straight up the Thames.