Nicole Jordan (21 page)

“Your suspicions were correct,” he said to Caro in a low voice. “I have proof.”

“Proof of what?”

“That my lovely Danielle is not what she seems.” His tone was bleak. “After you warned me, I set a trap for her, just as you suggested. This evening I…let her seduce me, then pretended to sleep. I had left a journal where she could find it.”

“And did she take the bait?”

John nodded sadly. “She poured over the journal, taking copious notes. There was no incriminating evidence for her to find, of course, for I had falsified all the entries.”

“Do you have any notion what she was seeking?”

“From the probing questions she’s asked me over the last few days, the little comments she let slip…I’m almost certain she wants to know the identities of all the Guardians.”

It was a measure of his agitation, Caro knew, that he had used the term for the members of their order. She shot a glance at Max, hoping he hadn’t noticed, but he seemed focused on John’s tale.

“If so,” John continued grimly, “she now has a list of false names. She will be looking for a dozen agents who don’t exist. Except for you, sir.” He looked at Max. “I added your name to one of the entries. I thought it would seem more credible if she recognized at least one of the names on the list.”

“You led her to believe I am one of your Foreign Office agents?”

“Yes.”

Caro interrupted to steer the subject back to Danielle Newham. “She cannot be working solely on her own. We need to discover who employed her.”

“I know. She must be apprehended and questioned.”

“Where is she now?”

“I’m not certain. She slipped away while she thought I still slept. I suspect she returned to town, to the lodgings she shares with her brother…possibly in order to pack.”

“You think she means to leave the island?”

“I fear so,” John said dismally. “From her furtiveness, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to make her escape tonight. That is why I came to find you. I cannot stop them alone.”

“What about Ryder? Have you asked him?”

John lowered his gaze. “I haven’t tried to find him. I came to you first. I would prefer to settle this before I have to confess to Sir Gawain that I allowed myself to be taken in by a treacherous schemer.”

Caro nodded, understanding why John would want to keep his gullibility hidden. And if they could discover who had employed Danielle, then they could at least salvage some valuable leads from a potential disaster.

“We could use Santos’s help,” she said.

“I suppose you’re right.”

She knew why John gave her no argument. The Spaniard lived with his large family in town, near his tavern, which overlooked the harbor. He would likely be home asleep, but as a former smuggler, he would be invaluable if the Newhams attempted to escape by sea tonight. Santos knew all the tricks of sailing at night.

“Can they sail tonight?” John asked, as if reading her thoughts.

Caro glanced up at the moon that hung low on the horizon, judging that it would set in the next hour or so. “Possibly, if they are willing to risk crashing against the rocks at the harbor entrance. But they will likely have a skilled captain and crew in their pay.” She pursed her lips. “We should check the harbor first. If we don’t find the Newhams there, we can seek them at their lodgings.”

“That would be wisest.” John shifted his gaze to Max. “Will you accompany us, sir?”

“Of course. But if you expect a fight, shouldn’t we go armed?”

“I have two pistols with me,” John said, patting his waist.

Caro added, “I have more weapons at home. And if we have to board a ship, I would do better to be rid of my skirts.”

In silent agreement, John turned his horse, and the three of them made for Caro’s stables.

Max felt himself frowning, the urge to shield Caro so strong, he wanted to forbid her participation. But he kept his reservations unvoiced, knowing better than to suggest she stay safely behind, out of danger. She looked totally determined and focused now. And when they reached her stable yard, she leapt lightly down and disappeared inside her house.

She returned after a brief time, wearing dark male garb like the guerrilla fighters Max had known in Spain. He eyed her sharply, having difficulty reconciling this Caro with the sensual lover who’d spent many of the past hours in his arms.

She was equipped with four pistols, two of which she handed to him.

“Are these loaded?” he asked, accepting the pouch of gunpowder and ammunition from her as well.

“Certainly.” Grimly efficient now, she mounted her horse, saying to John as she led the way from the yard, “I have been thinking…we should fetch Captain Biddick in case we must sail after them.”

When John nodded, Caro spurred her mount, leaving the two former cavalry officers to follow her swift pace.

They split up when they reached town—John heading for Captain Biddick’s residence, Caro and Max for Santos Verra’s.

They woke Verra from a sound sleep and quickly explained the situation. The Spaniard grinned, his teeth white in his swarthy face, and asked for only a moment to dress.

Shortly they met up with the others outside the tavern, where they dismounted and tethered their horses.

“Try to be quiet,” Caro murmured for both Max and John’s benefit. “Sounds carry easily over the water.”

On foot they headed for the steep, cobbled road that led to the harbor and silently took shelter behind the last building in order to peer down the hill.

The dark water below shimmered in the moonlight. Verra pointed without speaking, and immediately Max understood his conclusion.

Among the myriad vessels lying at anchor, only a small, two-masted schooner had lantern lights on board. Lights that illuminated a glimpse of unfurling canvas.

“It seems as you suspected,” Verra muttered grimly. “They are raising sail.”

Chapter

Eleven

Silently Max moved back into the concealing shadows, and the others followed.

“So to apprehend our spies,” he murmured, “we must board and take control of that schooner.”

“Without being seen,” Caro added quietly.

“If we row a small skiff, we will likely not be detected,” said Santos Verra.

“I can certainly row,” John Yates volunteered, “even with my wooden leg. But I should be the one to confront Danielle.”

Verra nodded. “The rest of us will make up a boarding party, while Yates remains with the skiff. Once we have control, he can come aboard.”

“And then?” Max asked.

“Then we arrest the Newhams,” Yates said grimly, “in the name of the Crown.”

“Sir Gawain has that authority?”

“He has total authority over anything and anyone in these waters.”

Caro spoke. “We should look for evidence against them—the list Danielle made, in particular. That would be sufficient proof to convince Sir Gawain of their guilt.”

“Yes,” Yates agreed. “Then we will take them to the castle, and Sir Gawain can determine how best to deal with them.” Yates addressed Max. “Sir, you should take command and lead the boarding party.”

Max raised an eyebrow, expecting debate, but the others agreed readily. “Very well. What kind of resistance should we expect to encounter?”

“I know the schooner’s master,” Captain Biddick said. “He won’t put up much of a fight when challenged.”

“But the Newhams likely will,” Caro interjected.

Max looked at her. “Can you handle Danielle?”

“I should hope so.” Her hushed tone was dry.

“Then I will take her brother, Peter. Biddick, you will have the ship’s captain. Verra, you have the entire rest of the crew.”

Verra grinned widely. “It will be my pleasure, señor.”

“We should go now,” Caro said, indicating the schooner.

The vessel had begun to move. There was only a faint breeze—which worked in their favor, since the schooner would have difficulty filling her sails. But she was already heading toward the narrow strait of the harbor entrance, preparing to negotiate the treacherous rocks on either side.

“Will you find us a skiff, Señor Verra?” Max asked.

One by one they crept down the steep hill that zigzagged to the harbor. Max allowed Verra to lead, watching as the smuggler searched the many boats tied up at the quay and located a skiff that would suit their purpose. Caro also seemed to know exactly what she was doing as she worked quietly and efficiently with Verra to cast off.

She took the tiller while the men manned the oars. John Yates put his back into the rhythm with grim determination, his teeth gritted in concentration, and soon the skiff was slicing through the dark water, the only sound the faint slapping of the paddles.

At Max’s silent gesture, they slowed when they came abreast of their target. A grappling hook swung over the schooner’s railing near the port-side stern provided their means of boarding.

Verra went first, climbing hand over hand up the rope, pausing to peer over the railing, then signaling all clear before easing over the edge out of sight.

Max went next, dropping onto the deck silently, then moving quickly forward to crouch behind some barrels that were lashed near the main mast. He could see no sign of the Newhams, merely a half-dozen crew members who were busy with sails and lines. The man at the wheel, barking orders in Spanish, was undoubtedly the schooner’s master.

He wondered if Caro would have trouble managing the rope, but she appeared almost instantly, substantiating her claim that she’d had some unusual training for a woman.

She was soon followed by Captain Biddick. As planned, Yates stayed with the skiff until a rope ladder could be thrown down to him. The moment he boarded, Max gave the signal to begin.

Crossing the deck, Max pressed the barrel of his pistol against the base of the master’s skull.

“Señor, you will surrender this vessel to me, if you please, and lower your sails. Sir Gawain Olwen would like to question your passengers.”

Other than a startled grunt of surprise, the master made no protest as he swiftly complied. And his crew quickly followed suit, surrendering without a fight.

Max left Biddick to guard the Spanish captain and joined Caro where she waited at the hatchway that led belowdeck. Max preceding, they descended the ladder to search for the Newhams.

They found Danielle and her brother in the first cabin, seated at a small table, enjoying a glass of wine—probably in celebration, Max surmised. But her smug smile turned to stark alarm when she looked up to discover both of Caro’s pistols trained on her.

Peter rose abruptly to his feet, as if he intended to flee, but seeing Max’s pistol aimed at his chest evidently made him think better of moving. Raising his hands, Peter sank back into his chair.

“What is the meaning of this?” Danielle demanded shrilly.

“I think you know,” Caro replied, her own voice biting.

Tucking one pistol in the waistband of her breeches, she began searching the cabin, starting with Danielle’s reticule and cloak pockets.

“This is outrageous!” the woman protested just as John Yates entered.

He carried two lengths of rope, one of which he used to tie Danielle’s hands, despite her vociferous protests. Max saw her wince as the knots were tightened. Yates seemed to be taking satisfaction at having her at his mercy, but as long as he restrained his anger and refrained from actually harming their prisoners, Max decided, Yates deserved the honor of questioning his treacherous former sweetheart.

Just then Caro opened a valise that had been stowed beneath the bunk and unearthed a leather pouch that contained a sheaf of papers. Danielle fell suspiciously silent as Caro perused her find.

She showed them to Yates, who nodded grimly and narrowed his eyes savagely at the auburn-haired beauty.

Danielle’s chin rose with haughty defiance. “Of what are you accusing me? I have committed no crime.”

“Not a crime perhaps, but you betrayed me all the same,” John said, his tone bitter but controlled.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He looked at her with scathing contempt. “You thought you could play me for a fool, my dear. But the journal you so eagerly examined was fabricated.”

Her lovely mouth dropped open, but only for an instant. “So I was curious,” she said, swiftly recovering.

“What were you seeking? A roster?”

Danielle remained stubbornly mute.

“Who employed you?”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Then you will make your confessions to Sir Gawain. We’ll see how comfortable you find his castle’s dungeons. You will have a long incarceration there until you decide to give up your employer.”

“You cannot hold me against my will!”

John smiled without humor. “I hesitate to contradict a lady, but we most certainly can.”

“I will petition the lieutenant governor of the island.”

“Petition away. You will find that Sir Gawain’s rule is law here on Cyrene, and that the governor is very accommodating to his wishes. You should also know that if you choose to be uncooperative, Sir Gawain will have you shipped to the penal colonies of Australia. By the time you spend months locked together with other convicts, I suspect you will be eager to talk.”

Danielle’s eyes filled with dismay at that threat, and she averted her gaze.

Checking the knots one last time, John moved on to her brother, who had been sitting quietly all this time. But when he made to tie Peter’s hands, the man leapt up, shoved John out of the way, and raced for the door.

Caro aimed her pistol at his right thigh and would have shot him had Max not caught her arm. “No need to shoot. Let him go.”

She gave him a fierce look, clearly frustrated by his intervention.

“He can’t get far.”

Max proved to be right. When they ushered Danielle out of the cabin and above deck, they found Peter Newham sprawled facedown near the railing, a grinning Santos Verra standing over him with one booted foot pressed hard into the small of his back.

Captain Biddick’s mood seemed just as jovial as he hauled Peter to his feet. “Caught ourselves a scurvy wharf rat, we did.”

The captain took over, expertly trussing up Mr. Peter Newham. Then they lowered their unwilling prisoners into the skiff and rowed them to shore.

The moon had sunk below the horizon by then, so there was only starlight by which to see as they waited for Verra to round up a coach and team. They put the prisoners inside, with Yates and Biddick joining them in the role of guards, while Verra acted as coachman and drove to the castle.

Caro and Max fetched their saddle horses and rode after the coach.

Stars shone like diamonds in the black velvet sky as the night enveloped them. All was quiet but for the rattle of the coach wheels and the plod of horses’ hooves ahead.

Caro felt a sweep of fatigue overtake her, yet it was accompanied by relief that they’d succeeded in stopping the Newhams’ escape.

Her relief was short-lived, however, when Max began asking probing questions. “Will Sir Gawain detain them for long?”

“As long as it takes to discover what they were seeking and who hired them.”

“Will they be sent to Australia?”

“Probably not, although Sir Gawain may likely use that as a threat.”

“But they won’t stand trial for espionage.”

“No,” Caro replied. “We don’t want the publicity of a trial.”

“You prefer secrecy.”

Hearing the odd note in his tone, she shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. “I’m certain you understand why we prefer not to advertise our activities. And Sir Gawain may very well do nothing to punish Danielle and her brother. Instead he may choose to release them and let them return to England. If so, he will have them followed. But he will alert our agents in England first, and now that we’re forewarned, we will be on our guard.”

There was a long pause, before Max said softly, “Tell me, what exactly is a Guardian?”

Caro felt her heart falter. “It is just a name we give our division of the Foreign Office.”

From the way Max was searching her face in the darkness, she wasn’t certain he accepted her explanation. Nor did his next words comfort her.

“Your division seems to be extremely well organized. And Sir Gawain appears to have a vast degree of resources at his disposal. Are you even part of the Foreign Office?”

“Yes, of course.” That wasn’t a lie at least.

“I find it surprising that a branch of the Foreign Office would have been established on a small Mediterranean island.”

“I thought I explained that. Our proximity to Europe is a benefit to government affairs, although our isolation can be a drawback at times.”

“But there is more you aren’t revealing?”

“You will have to ask Sir Gawain,” Caro equivocated.

“Will he tell me if I ask?”

“He offered you a position with us. If you choose to accept, I’m certain he will tell you everything you want to know.”

“But not before?”

“I doubt it.”

She wished she could allay Max’s suspicions, but she couldn’t tell him about the Guardians on her own, not without Sir Gawain’s permission. But that possibility was worth pursuing. Max’s actions tonight had only confirmed her growing conviction that he was a born protector and would make a splendid Guardian.

If he were to learn the true history and purpose of the order, if he saw the gravity and importance of what they did, that might make him more amenable to joining.

“But I will certainly discuss it with Sir Gawain,” Caro said. “He may make an exception in your case, considering how much you have already aided us.”

It was nearly an hour later when Caro managed a private word with Sir Gawain. The Newhams had been delivered to his castle and interrogated at length, and afterward Caro took the baronet aside and put forth an earnest argument.

To her relief, Sir Gawain accompanied her to the drawing room, where Max waited.

“Mr. Leighton, I want to express my thanks for your generous service,” he said as Max rose from the settee. “Miss Newham and her brother could have done serious harm to our organization. Operating our missions in secrecy is an essential advantage to our success, and exposing the identities of our membership would doubtless imperil our effectiveness, not to mention making our agents potential targets for retaliation.”

“And did she give up the name of her employer?”

“She did indeed. An Englishman, she claims. It remains to be seen how truthful her confession is, but our agents in England will investigate, so we may take appropriate steps to protect ourselves. Until we know the Newhams present no further danger, however, they will remain here on Cyrene under house arrest.”

Sir Gawain paused. “Caro has convinced me that you deserve a greater explanation than you have been given thus far. And that if we hope to persuade you to join us, it is time we showed you what we are about. Caro, will you assume the honors?”

“Yes, certainly,” she said at once.

Max could detect more than a hint of elation in her voice, while Sir Gawain’s tone remained solemn. “I trust you will understand why we must swear you to secrecy, Mr. Leighton. What you are about to see is a sacred trust. We will talk when you return.”