Sari Robins (23 page)

H
eath didn’t think, didn’t call for help; his body simply
moved
!

Barreling forward, he slammed into the man, knocking him off Tess and into the far wall with a bone-jarring crash.

Heath roared, fists pummeling. Bone cracked, blood splattered, and Heath’s fists grew slick with sweat and blood. The bastard kicked and punched, landing blows that Heath didn’t feel, his mind an empty slate of hatred.

Arms grabbed Heath, lifting him off the bastard, but Heath fought and kicked, lunging forward.

“Bartlett!” a voice bellowed as the arms held him at bay.

A familiar face swam before Heath’s vision. “Bartlett!” It was Warden Newman.

Heath’s head cleared. “Tess!”

“She’s alive, thanks to you,” Newman offered.

His knees almost buckled with relief.

“Let him go,” the warden ordered the two guards holding Heath.

Released, Heath spun.

She was sitting up, her face was battered, her lip bleeding and her eyes wide and frightened. Her neck was a bloody mess. She looked up, reaching for him.

Heath fell toward her, grasping her hands and pulling her close.

She quivered in his arms, and his heart wept for her anguish. He held her gently, no matter than he wanted to squeeze her so hard and never let her go. He was filled with a violence that shook him to his core.

Two beefy guards lifted up the assailant and headed toward the door.

“He’s not going anywhere!” Heath snarled.

The warden turned, stepping forward. “He’s going in the lockup. I have a few questions for him.”

Heath shook his head.

The warden held up his hand, his eyes hard as nails. “I need some answers and don’t feel that I ought to be asking for them here, in front of the lady. Not the way I ask ’em.”

Heath hugged Tess tighter to him, torn.

“I swear he’ll pay for what’s he’s done.” The warden’s lip curled. “But not until I have my answers.”

There was naught Heath could do; this was the warden’s domain. And Heath wasn’t about to leave Tess, no matter how badly he wanted answers and vengeance.

Mutely, Heath nodded.

“I’ll send for the doctor,” the warden offered, then as an afterthought, “I’ll pay.”

“No quacks!” Heath demanded.

The warden scowled. “Now see—”

“Do you know Dr. Winner?”

“Nick Redford’s friend?”

“Yes. I want him. Only him.” Heath trusted Dr. Winner and knew that Tess did, too.

Nodding, the warden sniffed. “As you wish. And I’ll set two guards before the door and one in front of the residence. No one else will be bothering Lady Golding.”

“Bothering?” Heath roared. “Is that what you call it?”

“I don’t know what happened to my guards, but I assure you I’ll find out and it won’t happen again.”

“That’s not good enough!”

“I’m sorry. What more can I say?” Then the warden was gone.

The window latch banged in the stone-cold silence.

Looking down, Heath scanned her bloodied face and neck. The marks were hideous, but they seemed superficial. Was there more damage he couldn’t see? Should he check her or wait for the doctor?

Gently Heath lifted Tess and carried her over to the bed. Except for the quivering, she was limp as a rag doll. His heart pinched with fear and worry.

Her eyes were open, her gaze fearful, yet clear.

“Can you breathe?” he asked, voicing his biggest worry.

She nodded. “I’m all right,” she croaked. “I’m alive.”

He gritted his teeth, fear, guilt, and grief over what
might have been scorching him like lightning. He needed to do something, to act, to help.

Sitting down beside her, he busied himself with the basin of water, dipping a cloth.

Her hand grasped his, arresting his movements.

Their eyes locked.

“You saved me,” her voice cracked. “I’m all right…thanks to you.” Her crystal blue gaze was full of gratitude. “I’m…all right.”

Tears suddenly burned the backs of his eyes. She was reassuring him! He couldn’t believe that after he’d left her alone, had allowed the bastard—

He grasped her hand and squeezed. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

“Don’t be a dolt,” she whispered.

He shook his head.

“You’re going to argue with me? I’m wounded.” She gave him a weak smile.

He exhaled, feeling slightly reassured. If she was teasing him she had to be all right. Right?

She swallowed and made a face as if pained. “Water?”

He jumped, feeling like an idiot, and reached for a mug.

Swallowing looked terribly painful, but she pushed through it, handing him back the mug and lying down. “Thanks,” she mouthed.

Carefully he set the wet cloth on her wound and wiped away some of the blood. It was a nasty wound, but it could have been so much worse if he hadn’t come when he did…

His mind veered away from that possibility.

He needed a dressing! Some kind of ointment!

“Lie down with me?” she asked. Her eyes looked so vulnerable, his heart squeezed even more.

Carefully he lay down beside her, wrapping her in his arms and hugging her close.

She sighed. “Cabbage.”

“Huh?”

“We’re like cabbage leaves.”

Oh, we’re lying pressed together.
“Oh.”

Smiling, she closed her eyes, and astoundingly, her body relaxed. She was probably exhausted from her fight with the attacker.

He lay staring at the paint-peeled ceiling, feeling wound tighter than whipcord. The violence was still fresh in his fists, the blood still staining his hands. Even now he felt the residue of the strength surging through his muscles, the blinding rage…

The last hour washed over him. The anticipation as he neared her chamber, ready to see her, to kiss her, to hold her sweet, lavender-scented body in his arms.

Not like this
.

Not with the odor of blood and sweat and fear clouding the room. Not with the terror of near tragedy so fresh.

The nightmare he’d seen upon opening that door.

He closed his eyes, unable to grasp it.

“It’s all right,” she whispered in his ear.

Opening his eyes, he looked at her. Her face was swollen, her neck a bloodied mess. “How can you be so brave?” he asked with wonder.

She smiled. “We’re together.”

I love her.

The insight caught him like a bullet to his heart; it was so powerful, he could hardly think, he could hardly breathe.

I love Tess. More than my life. More than…anything.

If anything happened to her…

Fear gripped him so powerfully, he shivered.

Her hand squeezed his forearm, reassuring.

She was so strong. She’d faced her husband’s betrayal, weathered unjust scandals, and dealt with the Reynoldses of the world as she worked to protect her country in a time of war.

Well, it was time for someone to protect her. Time for someone to put her well-being first.

Heath knew he was the man for the job.

The only question was whether Tess would allow him to be that man.

H
ours later Tess awoke to the sound of voices, her every muscle feeling as if it had been hammered with a mallet.

“She’s fine,” a male voice soothed. “Her breathing is regular and her pulse is steady.”

“You’re sure?” Heath’s voice sounded distressed. “There won’t be any lasting effects?”

“Not physically, but many have difficulties with nightmares and anxiety after such an attack, and understandably so.”

“I survived,” Tess murmured, opening her eyes. “I can handle a few nightmares.” Her throat was still sore, but her voice didn’t seem to be harmed.

A healthy fire flamed in the hearth and the sun shone brightly through the open windows, warming the room. A new stack of firewood lay piled nearby. Obviously small consolations from Warden Newman. Pigeons cooed outside, and the air smelled oddly of flowers and olive oil.

“You’re awake!” Heath rushed to her side. Shad
ows bordered his beautiful cocoa brown eyes, his clothes were wrinkled beyond repair, and his boots were badly scuffed.

“You look like hell.” She traced her hand across the rough fuzz grazing his beloved cheeks. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

Smiling, he shook his head and kissed the palm of her hand.

Dr. Michael Winner stepped forward. “How are you feeling, Lady Golding?” He was a tall, portly fellow with kind eyes and loose lips that usually slipped easily into a smile. Today his mouth was set in a line and his brow was furrowed with concern.

“I ache. But I’m all right considering the circumstances. Thank you for coming.”

“I would have been here sooner. But I have a difficult case, a young lad with the mumps, and only just received the message from Warden Newman.” Dr. Winner frowned, scratching the tuft of brown hair ringing his receding hairline. “From what Mr. Bartlett tells me, you had quite a close shave.”

Upset, she looked to Heath. “What ever happened to—”

“Warden Newman took him to the lockup for questioning. I haven’t heard anything.” His constancy was unspoken; the dear man hadn’t been willing to leave her to find out.

Sighing, Dr. Winner shook his head. “I confess, I never expected to treat you here, Lady Golding. What, pray tell, is going on?”

“Lady Golding has been falsely accused of murder,” Heath explained.

Winner’s brown brows knitted. “First Beaumont and now this? Is there an epidemic of false murder charges these days?”

Eyeing Heath, Tess changed the topic, “Is that your special ointment I smell, Doctor?”

The good doctor nodded. “You have quite the nose for scents. Olive oil, calendula flowers, and a few secret ingredients. If you will allow me, I would like to dress that wound and examine you more fully.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Holding out his hand, Dr. Winner turned to Heath. “Perhaps you can excuse us?”

Heath shook his head.

“It’s all right, Heath,” Tess interjected before he could argue. “Dr. Winner will take good care of me, and I would like you to find out what happened with…that man. I want to know why he attacked me.”

Winner frowned. “You think he had a motive?”

Tess shook her head. “He asked for me.” Remembering, she closed her eyes. “That man wanted me dead.”

Heath laid his hand on her shoulder, reassuring. She opened her eyes. “I’m all right.”

“How can you be so calm about it, Lady Golding?” Dr. Winner’s face was distressed.

Heath grasped her fingers and kissed them. “Tess is no ordinary lady.”

Tess smiled up at Heath, trying to ignore the ache in her jaw. “Please find out for me.”

He nodded. “There are two guards stationed outside the door and another in front of the building. You send for me if you need anything. I won’t be gone long.” He stood, releasing her hand and turning to Winner. “Don’t leave her alone.”

Dr. Winner’s smile was warm. “She’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.”

The examination was completed in a trice and Tess was relieved that the damage was as minimal as it was. Notwithstanding a lot of aches and bruises and her neck injury, she would be perfectly fine in a few days.

Snapping his black medical bag closed, Dr. Winner nodded. “The wound shouldn’t even scar. Just keep applying the ointment and change the bandage every other day or so.”

“Thank you, Dr. Winner.” Tess sat up, gingerly touching the bandages on her neck. The scents of olive oil and flowers made her stomach growl. “I’d give a lot for a piece of toast with butter right now.”

“Hunger’s a good sign. I’ll be sure to have a word with Warden Newman about getting you some breakfast.”

“Step aside!” a woman’s voice commanded. “We have leave from the warden.”

A heartbeat later Janelle swept into the room, Ginny and Lucy following in her wake.

“Oh my God, they’ve beaten you!” Janelle shrieked, tossing her white spotted ermine muff onto the table.
Turning to Lucy, she wagged a finger. “I told you we should have come sooner!”

Lucy’s doe-like eyes were awash with distress.

Ginny was wringing her hands so hard they shook. “How could they have done that to you? Oh my dear!”

Tess was deeply touched by their concern, but simultaneously mortified that they had to see her here, as a prisoner at Newgate. Standing, she straightened her wrinkled gown as best as she could, then pulled a scarf from a portmanteau and tied it around her bandaged neck. “I must look dreadful.”

Lifting her hands heavenward, Janelle cried, “How can you be so vain when the guards have attacked you? Did they knock the sense out of you, too?”

Tess’s cheeks warmed. “The guards didn’t beat me, Janelle. And it looks worse than it is. I’m fine. Just ask Dr. Winner.”

Janelle’s eyes narrowed. “A quack.”

Dr. Winner smiled. “Hello, Lady Blankett, good to see you again, too.” Turning to Tess, he asked, “Since your friends are here…”

“Please go. I know you’re anxious to check on that boy. He’s quarantined, I presume, so none of the other children at Andersen Hall become ill?”

“Yes. That’s always the biggest fear.”

As he squeezed her shoulder, Dr. Winner’s eyes were filled with warmth. “I’ll be back to see you in a few hours.”

Janelle shot Ginny a glare, interjecting loudly, “I’m sure Lady Golding doesn’t need that kind of attention. You said yourself that she’s fine.”

Janelle nudged Ginny with her elbow.

Ginny blinked. “Oh yes. Isn’t it better to check on someone in the morning, anyway?”

Scratching his head, Dr. Winner frowned.

“Morning would be better.” Janelle nodded vigorously, shepherding the good doctor over the threshold. “We’ll see you then.” She slammed the door closed behind him.

Janelle turned and with a determined look in her eyes, motioned wildly for the ladies to join her in the far corner of the room.

“You’re being a bit theatrical, don’t you think?” Ginny suggested, limping to follow.

“Shhh,” Janelle hissed, gesticulating for her and Tess to join them huddled in the corner.

Crossing her arms, Tess eyed the three women warily. “What’s going on?”

Janelle waved her hands. “Lower your voice!”

“All right,” Tess whispered. “What’s going on?”

Janelle’s sharp, catlike gaze moved from Tess to Ginny to Lucy, and back to Tess with dramatic aplomb. Then her lips twisted into a satisfied smirk. “We’re breaking you out.”

Tess’s mouth dropped open.

Lucy grabbed Tess’s hand and squeezed, her eyes earnest as she nodded.

Ginny leaned forward. “I confess I had my doubts about this harebrained scheme, but seeing what
they’ve done to you…We can’t get you out of here soon enough.”

Sudden tears burned the backs of Tess’s eyes, and she sniffed.

“Don’t be so easily overset.” Janelle’s lips firmed into a disapproving line. “Stiffen your backbone; you can’t afford to be weak and rattled.”

Reaching up, Tess wrapped her arms around the three women and hugged them close. They smelled comfortingly of heliotrope and rosewater, and as they held Tess, she sent off a prayer of gratitude for such loyal friends.

But if they knew the truth about her spying, they wouldn’t trust her so easily. Nor would they be putting themselves at risk. And who could blame them…The doubts squeezed at Tess’s heart, and her head ached from anxiety.

After a long, sweet moment, Janelle pushed away. “You know how I loathe sentimentality.” Still, she took a linen and wiped her teary eye. “The mold in here is abominable.”

“I am so grateful.” Tess bit her lip. “But I can’t let you do this.”

Reaching into the folds of her skirts, Lucy pulled out a piece of foolscap and handed it to Tess.

Tess read, “‘Plan of Escape. One: Tess and Lucy exchange clothing. Two: Lucy takes to Tess’s bed, pretending to be Tess and feigning ill.’”

“There’ll be no trouble with credibility with your treatment here,” Janelle interjected.

Tess continued. “‘Three: Tess leaves with Janelle
and Ginny. Four: Aunt Sophie comes to visit Tess and the switch is revealed to the warden. They can’t hold Lucy for taking a nap and so Lucy and Aunt Sophie leave.’”

Ginny placed her hand on Tess’s. “It’s the mourning attire. Men usually don’t look past it. You wear a big black bonnet and a veil and we all walk out of here.”

Janelle lifted her brows meaningfully. “A good plan if I do say so myself. Your aunt wanted to come now, but we couldn’t afford to raise any suspicions by having a relative involved. When Sophie arrives later we do want the cat out of the bag, so it works perfectly.”

Tess’s vision blurred with fresh tears and she smiled. Reaching for Lucy, she squeezed her and Ginny’s hands. “It
is
a good plan. And would probably work, but I can’t allow you to do it.” She swallowed. “I was attacked last night—”

Janelle waved a hand. “Lucy won’t even be here an hour and we’ve sent for Bills to stay with her.”

Tess’s eyes widened. “Bills is involved in this?”

“Not that he’s aware of, yet.” Janelle sniffed. “But he won’t rat us out, not with Lucy implicated.”

“You are good.” Tess shook her head in amazement.

Crossing her arms, Janelle smirked. “I know.”

“Still, I cannot allow it. Fiona is dead, God bless her soul. Murdered, and so young…” Tess swallowed as grief overwhelmed her, followed by resolve. “I was almost killed last night. The dangers are too great. I will not place anyone else at risk.”

Funereal silence enveloped them.

Pressing her hand to her eyes, Tess groaned. “I fear that this whole mess is my doing. I have brought this upon us—”

“How so?” Janelle asked.

Exhaling, Tess bit her lip. “I work for the Foreign Office.”

Janelle raised her brows. “And…?”

Tess blinked. “And? I work for the Foreign Office…as a spy.”

Waving a hand, Janelle sniffed haughtily. “We already knew that.”

A breath escaped from Tess as she counted her racing heartbeats. One, two, three. “You knew?”

“From the moment you applied for membership to the society.”

Ginny raised her finger. “Not the very moment, but pretty shortly thereafter.”

Tess’s mouth fell open. “How?”

Ginny shot Janelle a worried glance. “We promised not to say…”

Ignoring her friend, Janelle lifted a shoulder. “Sir Lee Devane told us.”

Tess blinked. “The man who used to run the Foreign Office knows about me? The man’s practically a legend.”

“Yes.”

“But I thought he was long retired. And how do you know him?”

“He’s Edwina’s grandfather-in-law,” Ginny explained. “And he and Janelle…”

Janelle’s cheeks tinged pink. “We are friends, simply friends.”

Ginny smiled adoringly at Janelle. “It’s so nice to see you happy for a change.”

Lucy winked at Janelle with a knowing look on her face.

Scowling, Janelle looked away. “Please don’t think that just because I allow the man to take me fishing that I grant him any kind of liberties…”

“I thought he was in his seventies…” Tess wondered aloud.

“And quite fit for his age,” Ginny added with a teasing smile. “It was actually his idea that someone keep an eye on things at the society.”

Janelle raised a finger. “It is designed as a place to share information and influence others, so it’s not illogical to be concerned that when we are at war it can be put to unintended uses. Sir Lee was right to be careful about certain elements using the society for despicable ends.”

Crossing her arms, Janelle sniffed. “But that Wheaton fellow wouldn’t hear of any of us doing the intelligence gathering. No matter how good a spy I would make. He wanted his own person.”

Tess pressed her palm to her racing heart. “Me.”

Ginny nodded. “Yes. And we’re quite satisfied with the choice, especially since you’ve enough backbone in you to stand up to that Wheaton fellow.”

Tess’s eyes widened. “You know about my reports?”

Ginny smiled sweetly. “Sir Lee says that you’ve
taken very good care to guard our privacy. Thank you.”

Shaking her head, Tess moved over to the chair. “I need to sit down.” She lowered herself into the seat and pressed her hand to her temple, trying to grasp the truth of it. “You knew. And you didn’t mind.”

Ginny eyed Janelle. “We weren’t all content with it, but when the countess applied for membership, we were very glad to have you around and on our side.”

“You knew about the countess, too?”

Ginny made a face. “I can’t believe that she and that Gammon woman thought we’d do anything that might possibly harm England. The nerve!”

Squatting, Lucy picked up the piece of foolscap from where it had fallen and brought it over to Tess, her dark eyes urging.

Tess set it on the table. “I can’t put you at risk. Especially not now.”

The door opened and Heath stepped inside the room. Tess’s heart skipped a beat and she was overcome by an emotion so powerful, she felt awash in radiant sunshine. Without thought, her hand stretched toward him, seeking his comforting touch.

His eyes met hers, and she could see the relief inside them, and a tenderness that warmed her to her toes.

“Out!” Janelle hissed, rushing toward Heath and flapping her hands like a crazed stork. “We’ll have no turncoats in here!”