Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie (39 page)

Monsieur Baptiste’s mouth puckered as if he’d licked a lemon. “Please, spare us your inane mutterings of the animal kingdom.”

Reynaud chuckled, but a fierce gleam sparked in his eye. “Monsieur does not like being compared to the platypus, but he is no lion.
He
uses deception to confuse his prey. His success depends on his ability to maintain his pretense long enough to strike. I, on the other hand, have might on my side.”

“Enough of your blathering.” Monsieur Baptiste swiped her reticule from the seat and shook it in Reynaud’s direction. “She has your letters.”

“He lies. Monsieur put them in my reticule moments before you joined us.”

Reynaud opened the bag, reached inside, and extracted the folded sheets of foolscap. He frowned as he leafed through the letters. Holding one up, his lips quirked. “Miss Paulina Fanchon. My dear, why are you in possession of correspondence from a known paramour? Or did Monsieur Baptiste place this one in your reticule, too?”

She swallowed hard, shame forcing her eyes down. She and Rafe were in danger, but Lisette still experienced deep humiliation over her husband’s activities. Daniel cavorted with a paramour. He set up house with her a world away.

“It’s none of your concern. And I have no knowledge of the other letters.”

“I see.” Reynaud lifted the curtain to peer outside. “We have left the city, and we are clear to settle this matter as I should have done months ago.”

He signaled the driver to stop the carriage.

Fear sliced through her heart. “What are you going to do? Please, Rafe needn’t be involved.”

“I intend to dispatch with my blackmailer once and for all,” Reynaud said.

Monsieur Baptiste grinned, baring his teeth. “Splendid. You should deal with her brother at the same time.”

“I believe Monsieur Baptiste wishes you dead, madame.” Reynaud’s eyes widened with surprise, but the hard glint there betrayed him. He was not amused nor caught unaware.

Thirty-three

Isaac’s complexion had lost color, leaving him cold and pale as marble.

“Sera, go for help.” His voice came out hoarse and gravelly.

When he had attempted to stand with Serafine’s help a moment ago, his knees had buckled. She pushed from the floor, and with one more glance over her shoulder at Isaac, she dashed from the room.

In the corridor, she searched for someone, anyone who might offer assistance, but the area was deserted. She grasped the balustrade to steady her descent and galloped down the stairs. The morning light blinded her when she burst outside, and she stopped on the walkway to allow her eyes to adjust.

Down the block, a gentleman hobbled along the walkway, supporting his weight on his cane. He would be no help. Serafine intended to rush past him, but he stepped into her path.

“Egads! You are bleeding, miss. Allow me to assist you.”

“My betrothed is injured above stairs. I must find a doctor.”

The gentleman sucked in a sharp breath and took off in a half-hop walk toward the street away from her. Just as she had anticipated. He would not be any assistance.

Serafine spotted another gentleman preparing to climb into a carriage. Lifting her skirts, she ran to intercept him. “Monsieur! Monsieur, please wait.”

The man turned to her with wide eyes then scrambled inside and slammed the door. The liveried footman barred her from approaching the carriage door. “Stand down, miss.”

“Monsieur, please. My betrothed requires assistance. He needs a surgeon.”

The gentleman peered out the window. “It’s a ploy. Be watchful for her accomplices.”

The servant placed a large hand in the middle of her chest and shoved. Serafine stumbled backward and lost her footing, but a pair of firm arms caught her from behind. She banged against an even firmer chest.

“Now, see here, Chester Newbury,” an angry voice at her ear commanded. “I won’t allow you to disrespect a lady. What is the meaning of this outrage?”

The gentleman in the carriage poked his head out the window. “Lord Ellis. The lady is with you?” Monsieur Newbury looked like a slap-cheeked boy, duly chastised for unbecoming behavior. “I thought she meant to distract me whilst a pickpocket liberated my blunt.”

“For shame, Newbury. The lady is finely attired and obviously no threat.”

Serafine struggled from the gentleman’s hold and turned to face him. “Please, I need assistance, sir.”

“Upon my honor!” Another gentleman approached from the coffeehouse at the far corner. It was Lord Westin. “Mademoiselle Vistoire, you’re covered in blood. What has happened?”

“My lord!” She nearly leapt into his arms, she was so relieved to see a familiar face. “It’s Monsieur Tucker. He has been stabbed. Please, I need your help.”

“Where is he?” Lord Westin allowed Serafine to drag him along the walkway toward the building where Isaac lay injured. The elderly gentleman with the cane hobbled toward them, his cane clicking against the cobblestone street. “I have sent for a doctor. Where is your betrothed?”

Serafine pointed. “Above stairs.”

Lords Westin and Ellis dashed inside and up the flight of stairs ahead of her. By the time she reached the back room, the gentlemen had moved Isaac to the bed. Lord Ellis pressed against his wound.

Isaac turned his head toward her and offered a weak smile. “Sera.”

She rushed to his side to hold his hand. “The doctor is coming. You’ll be fine.” She didn’t know if she spoke the truth, but if her sheer will could determine one’s fate, Isaac would live to be a centenarian.

He squeezed her hand in response, but he was weak. “Madame Hillary should be warned.”

“Good heavens, yes.” Serafine had forgotten about her cousin with Isaac slipping through her fingers, but Lisette could be in danger.

Lord Westin knelt at her side. His intense blue eyes met hers. “Tell me what is wrong.”

She briefly retold the story of Monsieur Baptiste’s interests and gains if Lisette and Rafe were dead, as well as his hand in blackmailing Reynaud. “I don’t understand it all, but I know Monsieur Baptiste is a threat to my family’s well-being. And Captain Hillary set sail this morning.”

Lord Westin bolted from the floor and started toward the door. “I’ll carry word to her at once.”

***

Daniel trotted up the staircase leading to his wife’s chambers. He anticipated doing a fair amount of groveling before Lisette forgave him. He would expect nothing less of his proud wife, nor would he wish her to be any different. It was her strength of conviction that had appealed to him from the moment of their first encounter in New Orleans. Fortunately, she possessed a generosity of spirit as well, and he hoped she would have compassion for him.

He knocked once on her chamber door before barreling inside. The newest chambermaid squealed in fright, clutching the counterpane to her chest and upsetting the bed she had just made.

“Captain Hillary.” The young girl curtsied like a new filly adjusting to her gangly legs. “Sir, greetings, sir.”

He grinned in an attempt to ease her discomfort. “I’m seeking Mrs. Hillary. Do you know of her whereabouts?”

“No, sir. She had breakfast with Master Rafe this morning. Perhaps she is upstairs.”

Daniel left the maid to her work. A moment later, he barged into the schoolroom and startled Miss Channing. The space was empty aside from the governess and her book.

“Pardon the intrusion. I’m looking for my wife. Have you seen her?”

Miss Channing stared at him, her eyes bulging. “They have gone to the docks to see you, sir. Mr. Baptiste accompanied them.”

His grin widened. Lisette was on her way to convince him to stay. She should be pleased he made the decision without her applying pressure.

“Our carriages probably passed one another on the street. Thank you.”

Bidding Miss Channing good day, he sauntered downstairs to his study to wait for Lisette’s return. No sooner did he pour himself a brandy than there was a knock at his door.

“Enter.” He took a swig from his snifter.

His butler opened the door a crack, and Daniel waved him inside. Ned approached him to speak discreetly. He didn’t know why the man bothered with protocol after years under his employ, but it was for the best. Now that Daniel was becoming a respectable gent with a wife and family, he required respectable servants.

“’Tis Lord Westin requesting an audience with Mrs. Hillary. He says it is a matter of urgency.”

Devil
take
it.
Daniel hadn’t been gone from home for a day and the dandies were already calling on Lisette. He hadn’t expected it of Westin, though, the bloody scoundrel.

“Show him in.”

A moment later, the marquess stalked into Daniel’s study with a somber expression. “Hillary, I heard you’d left London.”

“So I gathered.” He flexed his fingers.

“Thank God Mademoiselle Vistoire was mistaken. I just left her.”

Daniel’s fist loosened. “Has something happened to Serafine?”

“She’s unharmed, but I’m to warn your wife to steer clear of Mr. Baptiste. Miss Vistoire and Mr. Tucker had an encounter with a blackguard named Reynaud today. She believes he and Baptiste are conspiring together and wish to bring harm to your family.”

All the air whooshed from Daniel’s lungs. He couldn’t breathe.

“Mr. Tucker is gravely wounded.” Westin sounded far away, as if speaking from the opposite end of a tunnel. “Hillary, did you hear me? Good God, man. Are you going to faint like a chit?”

The marquess rushed forward to help support Daniel’s weight.

A
chit?
Daniel pushed him away. “Don’t be ridiculous. Let me be.”

Westin stepped back.

“Southampton,” Daniel mumbled. Reynaud would have docked in the closest port. If the
Mihos
had docked in London, Daniel would have known. He must go after her.

“What about Southampton?” Westin asked.

“Reynaud may have my wife and her brother. He’ll try to leave England, but his ship will be in Southampton.” With his bearings straight, he hurried from the study with Westin on his heels.

“Send for a horse from the mews immediately,” Daniel commanded his butler and continued to the staircase.

“I’ll accompany you,” Westin said.

He rounded on the marquess. “This isn’t your concern.”

“Allow me to assist for Mademoiselle Vistoire’s sake, if not your own.” Westin opened one side of his jacket to reveal a holstered pistol. “I’m an excellent marksman.”

What manner of man carried a firearm about Town? One who found danger invigorating. Westin would have been well suited for the life of a military man if not for the unfortunate condition of his birth.

“This isn’t a fox hunt or raucous adventure. My family’s life may be in jeopardy.”

“I comprehend the gravity of the situation. Did I mention I am exceptionally skilled with firearms?”

Daniel sighed. He would be a fool to turn away the man’s assistance. “Send for two horses,” he called to his servant as he started up the stairs. “I must arm myself as well. Try to avoid shooting any of my staff while I’m gone, Westin.”

The marquess chuckled. “As you wish.”

Thirty-four

Lisette’s mouth was as dry as cotton, and her thoughts weaved together into a jumbled mess. An unnatural calm had descended over Rafe, so that he sat beside her in silence, his unblinking eyes trained to the countryside out the window. There would be no escaping from Reynaud this time, no assistance from anyone. Could she reason with a lunatic?

She reached a hand toward him, forcing herself to use his given name. “I swear to you, Louis. I’ve never seen those letters before today.”

Reynaud grasped her fingers and lifted them to his lips. Her skin crawled and she struggled with the urge to snatch her hand from his.

“Save your lies, Lisette,” Monsieur Baptiste snapped. “Exit the carriage as you have been ordered to do.”

Reynaud frowned at Monsieur Baptiste. “
Please
, exit the carriage. Have you abandoned all pretenses at civilization, sir? She remains a lady. Treat her as one.”

Reynaud released her hand then bent forward to withdraw a knife from his boot. When he flicked his wrist in the direction of the door, a shaft of light glinted off the knife’s blade. “Go on, my dear. I’m anxious to have this behind me so I may leave this godforsaken country.”

Her immediate inclination was to stall, but their only possible route of escape would be outside the carriage. She nudged her brother. “Climb out, Rafe. It’s all right. I will be behind you.”

He did as she requested without protest. The dried grass under Lisette’s boots crunched as she joined him on the side of the road. Rafe cuddled against her, hiding his face against the bodice of her gown. Her gaze darted around for a place to hide if they broke free.

The sound of water in the distance alerted her that the river was close. Rafe wasn’t a strong swimmer, and Lisette wasn’t strong enough to assist him, but the wooded area between the road and water might provide shelter.