Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie (40 page)

The driver climbed from the box. “Whas the trouble? We ain’t close ta the coachin’ inn yet.”

Reynaud had sheathed his knife, and he aimed a warning look at Lisette before offering a disarming smile to the driver. “My wife insists we are on the brink of losing a wheel. Apparently, her backside is more sensitive to shimmies than the average lady.”

“Ye don’t say.” The driver leered at her, cackling at her expense. No telling what lewd thoughts crossed his mind at the mention of her backside.

You
fool.
She clamped her lips together and narrowed her eyes.

“It’s the left front wheel,” Reynaud said. “Perhaps we could check it to offer her peace of mind.”

What trick was this? “Wait,” she blurted. “I’m fine, really. Just a case of female hysteria. Silly of me.”

Reynaud winked as if sharing a joke with the driver. “And she will have another fit of hysteria not a mile down the road if we don’t check now.” He guided the driver around the back of the carriage and out of sight.

“Nothin’ ’pears amiss,” the driver said.

The sounds of a scuffle carried on the air, followed by a low grunt. The driver landed in the lane with a loud thud.

Sweet
Mary.
Reynaud truly planned to kill them. Lisette eased Rafe farther away from the road.

“
Merde
,” Monsieur Baptiste muttered and raked his fingers through his thin hair, his eyes bulging.

Reynaud rounded the carriage.

“What the hell are you thinking?” Monsieur Baptiste nearly screeched. “We can’t leave a trail of bodies across England.”

“The driver was a witness. I could either chase him down, risking injury to myself and frightening the man, or handle him as I did.” Reynaud’s lip curled as he advanced. “You knew I was a killer when you set everything into motion, Baptiste. I daresay you raised no protest when I rid you of Robert Lavigne.”

Lisette gasped. Surely, she had misheard. “You had Papa killed?”

“No!” Monsieur Baptiste tugged his earlobe and backed up a step. “I—I had no hand in Robert’s death.”

Reynaud continued his advance. “So you say.”

“For the love of God, I was in Boston.”

Reynaud bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile. “Quite right. Lavigne was the one with the audacity to blackmail me, nearly drained my coffers.
His
actions led to his demise.”

A fierce protectiveness reared inside Lisette, giving her courage to speak out. “Papa would never do such a thing. He was a gentle and kind man, not a cowardly thief. Papa had no cause to extort money from anyone. The farm and mill are prosperous.”

“Madame poses an excellent point,” Reynaud said. “When I made inquiries into Lavigne’s profits, his earnings were respectable, even at eighty percent ownership.”

Monsieur Baptiste’s gaze locked on Reynaud, and he retreated another step. “She’s lying to cover up her involvement. You saw she had possession of your letters.”

“Yes,” he hissed, advancing on Baptiste. “And your task was to locate my property. You had ample time to search the ship and Captain Hillary’s town house, and yet you brought me nothing until today. She must be a clever wench to have hidden them so well.”

Lisette nudged Rafe toward the trees while the men were focused on each other. Reynaud brandished his knife, crouching low as if to pounce. “My letters were under your nose, Baptiste, or more aptly, under your arse. I found them hidden beneath your mattress.”

Reynaud launched at him with a feral growl. Monsieur Baptiste fumbled with his coat.

Lisette shoved her brother. “Run!”

A loud crack rent the air, the sound of a gunshot echoing off the rolling hills.

Lifting her skirts, Lisette ran after Rafe. “Head for the trees.”

Her brother entered the thicket at a full run and disappeared for a moment. Monsieur Baptiste had discharged his one shot, which meant she had a chance of mounting a defense if he had survived the encounter. But if Reynaud had survived…

She shuddered. She must find a safe place for Rafe to hide.

Inside the dense copse, she caught up to Rafe and spotted a tree lying on its side. Vines wove through the dead branches as if devouring the fallen giant, their copious teardrop leaves creating an additional visual barrier. She captured Rafe’s hand and pulled him behind the brush.

“Get down,” she whispered then crouched beside him. “You must stay hidden, no matter what happens.”

His amber eyes turned up to her. “But I have to take care of you. The captain said.”

Daniel.
His name alone made her throat ache with unshed tears. The
Cecily
would be at sea. Lisette may never see her husband again. Hugging Rafe close, she placed a kiss on his dark hair. She couldn’t think of Daniel now, not when her brother’s life was in danger.

“You must stay hidden.” The stubborn tightening of his jaw made her belly twist. “Rafe, please. Stay down. You cannot leave your hiding spot. That’s the only way I’ll be safe.”

The tight lines around his mouth relaxed and he nodded slowly. “I will help you.”

Lisette released a relieved breath. “Yes, stay put and help me.”

She stood and searched the area for a weapon. Fallen limbs covered the ground of the wooded sanctuary, and she lifted one to test its weight. Rotted on the inside, it crumbled when she knocked it against the tree trunk.

“Lisette,” Baptiste yelled out. “Rafe. Come out of hiding, children.”

She discarded the useless club and snatched another. The bark fell away, exposing smooth, hard wood underneath. Her fingers gripped it firmly.

“Stay here no matter what.” She dashed through the trees to lead their pursuer away from her brother.

Branches snapped as she tromped on them, giving away her location.

“Damnation!” Baptiste shouted and ran her direction. He was old and moved clumsily. Lisette had a substantial lead, and she felt certain he hadn’t seen her yet.

Locating a fat tree, she took up post behind it and lifted the branch above her head in preparation for attack. Every sound was amplified as she awaited his approach: the rush of water behind her, the call of a raven, the sharp snap of a twig.

“There are few places to hide, children.” He was still several paces away. “I shan’t hurt you.”

Ha!
She would hardly consider him a reliable bet.

“Reynaud will no longer hurt you. I’ve taken care of him. Now, please come out of hiding.” Every time he spoke, he gave up his position.

Lisette’s arms ached and burned with the effort of holding the limb aloft, but she couldn’t lower it. Not now. Not without gaining his notice. The crack of a stick sounded close. Streams of sweat flowed down her face and stung her eyes. Her chest rose and fell in jerky starts and stops, her breathing surely loud enough to announce her location.

“Where are you, Lisette?” Baptiste’s elongated shadow projected on the leafy floor.

She waited, trying to judge when he was close enough to strike. Each footfall contained an eternity in between before the tip of the knife surged into view.

Followed by the blade.

Then the hilt.

His wrist.

Lisette swung the limb downward with a guttural cry and with every ounce of hate inside her for her father’s murderer. Baptiste’s agonized wail filled the air. The knife dropped to the ground and slid along the hard-packed earth.

Lisette drew the club back and whipped it through the air to bang into his chest. Baptiste toppled backward and landed with a grunt. She scrambled to reach the knife, but he kicked out a leg and entangled her. She stumbled, falling forward. When she connected with the ground, a searing pain shot through her belly and all the breath rushed from her lungs. She gulped several times, struggling to draw a decent breath.

His hand clamped onto her leg. He dragged her toward him. Lisette clawed at the dirt, but she had nothing with which to gain purchase. Her fingers left paths in the debris. Grabbing her shoulder, he forced her onto her back.

“No!” She drew her knee up and shot out her heel, smashing into his chin. The blow snapped his head back. Another wild kick connected with his cheek and knocked him to his back. She rolled out of his reach and pushed to her feet.

Horses’ hooves sounded in the distance, too far away to assist her. She cried out anyway. “Help! Help us!”

Her foot slid in the leaves when she bent to snag the knife. Regaining her balance, she ran toward the river. Baptiste was slower, but his strength could overpower her. She must get rid of the weapon before he used it on her.

The riders were closer. “Someone, please! Help!”

The grass grew tall closer to the water and slowed her strides. Her skirts tangled in branches. Burrs coated the fabric, scratching her legs.

“Get back here, you bitch.” Baptiste barreled through the undergrowth, bearing down on her. She pulled back her arm and hurled the knife into the midnight waters. A force slammed her from behind and knocked her to the ground.

Baptiste sat his full weight on her back, crushing her against the earth.

Lisette pushed with her arms and struggled. A length of cloth went around her neck. He twisted and tugged. Throwing her head back, she connected with his nose.

“Damn you!”

He loosened his grip and she clawed at the sash, looping her fingers inside to purchase breathing space.

Thwack!

The dreadful squeezing released, and Baptiste’s weight shifted off her. Lisette gasped, each inhalation a sharp stab.

“Lisette?” Rafe knelt beside her. “I took care of you like the captain said.”

Panicked, she turned her head to find Baptiste lying in a heap next to her.

Lisette crawled away, trying to regain her breath. She looked once more at Baptiste. His chest rose and fell with steady regularity. “We have to go quickly before he wakes.” Her voice was no louder than a whisper.

She struggled to her feet.

Rafe took her hand and pulled her away from the river. “Do you think Captain Hillary will buy me a cricket bat?”

“To—to play cricket?”

He wrinkled his brow as if she’d grown noddy.

“Lisette!” a voice called from the distance.

Her heart leapt.

“Lisette! Rafe! Where are you?” The urgent call came from the direction of the road as they moved out of the tall grass.

“Daniel.” Her voice was too soft.

“Over here, Captain,” Rafe bellowed. “We are here.”

Her husband appeared inside the tree line, breaking into a run when he saw them. “Lisette!” Upon reaching them, Daniel swept her against him. She cried out in pain.

“Darling, you’re hurt.” He held her at arm’s length, his expression a twisted mask of horror and fury. “Did Baptiste do this to you? Where is he?”

Another gentleman came up behind Daniel. It was Lord Westin.

“He is sleeping by the river,” Rafe said and pointed.

“Please, allow me.” Lord Westin took off for the water’s edge.

Rafe tugged Daniel’s hand to gain his attention. “I took care of Lisette just like you told me to.”

Daniel patted his head, his blue eyes misty. “You did a fine job, son.” Gently touching Lisette’s forehead, he grimaced. “I never should have left, Lis. I failed you.”

Hurt welled up in her chest as Paulina’s letter came back to mind. “You failed me greatly.”

His stricken expression should have given her satisfaction, but instead she felt more alone than ever.

Thirty-five

Daniel’s shoulders heaved with a defeated sigh when Lisette turned away from his embrace.

She held her head high as she limped to the carriage, but a shudder passed through her when she glanced to where Reynaud lay in the lane.

“You need to be seen by a doctor,” Daniel called after her. She climbed into the carriage without responding. He had let her down, broken his vow to protect her. His loving wife could have died because of his failure.

She could have died. The realization hit him like a fist to the gut. Daniel bent at the waist, his hands braced against his knees as he gulped in a great lungful of air.

But
she’s safe. Lisette is safe.
The dizziness began to recede and Daniel straightened. He couldn’t allow himself to be crippled by the “what if.” Lisette was safe.

Rafe’s small fingers wrapped around Daniel’s larger hand and held tight, providing comfort but also driving home the fact of how fragile his family was. He would never leave them again.

“We should go home so you can see my galleon,” Rafe said.

Daniel looked down into his innocent eyes. “First-rate suggestion. I look forward to it.”

They walked hand in hand to the carriage then Daniel lifted him inside. Rafe stretched out on the bench across from Lisette with a yawn. He had been exceptionally brave today, but bravery appeared to have taken its toll.