Scoundrel (47 page)

“Whatever possessed you to do anything so stupid?” Robert demanded. “I could not believe my eyes when I saw you lower your pistols.”

“I couldn’t be certain that he wasn’t lying about Lily’s location.” He laced his fingers through Lily’s, then reached over with his other hand to trace the delicate bones of her wrist. “At that moment, I would have agreed to almost anything if it meant her safety. Lando knew it. I would imagine he intended to use me as a bargaining tool, to negotiate his way onto a ship.”

“You would have let him leave the country?” Robert asked.

“No. By that time I would have assumed the worst, that my wife was dead already. I would have killed Lando, or died in the effort. Without a hostage, Lando would not leave England alive.”

No one spoke for a moment.

Lily’s eyes sparkled with tears as she looked up at her brother. “I forgot to thank you for something, Robert. The time you spent teaching me how to pick a lock did not go unrewarded.”

Remmington reached out to brush away a tear that spilled over her cheek. “Your father is right, sweetheart. You should be resting.”

She placed her head on his shoulder, with one hand on his chest. “I can rest fine right here.”

“We needn’t take much more of your time,” Bainbridge said. “What you need to know is that the French are aware of Lily’s activities, her father’s as well. Crofford intends to operate from the safe house in Brighton, and Robert will return to his post tomorrow morning. Naturally, I realize you will insist that Lily resign her position, but that will not ensure her safety. You must both be on your guard until the war ends.”

Remmington considered those words for a moment, and the way his wife’s hand grew tense beneath his. He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. “Do you want to resign?”

Lily bit her lip. “I don’t know.”

“Of course she will resign,” Crofford said. “Lily, how can you even consider anything else?”

Remmington knew how. He saw it in her eyes. “I believe your daughter is considering
everything
else. There is more at stake than our lives.” He stroked her cheek. “My men and I can keep you safe here. It won’t be pleasant. You will be more or less a prisoner in your own home. But I will turn this place into a fortress before I risk losing you again.”

She gave him a helpless look and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

He turned to Bainbridge. “I assume you can wait a day or two for her answer.”

“You will do nothing of the sort,” Crofford told Bainbridge. “You will tell them right now that Lily’s career with the War Department is finished.”

Bainbridge stroked his mustache again, his expression thoughtful. “I realize your concerns, Crofford, but I will not object if Lily wishes to remain with the Department The French have no way of knowing if she resigns. She will be a target regardless of her decision.”

Remmington watched Lily’s face, her indecision and her fear. He didn’t want to see her cry again. “Is there anything else we should know before you go, Sir Malcolm?”

It wasn’t a subtle hint, and Bainbridge rose to his feet. “Nothing pressing.” He turned to, Crofford and Robert. “Gentlemen, I believe it’s time we took our leave.”

Lily couldn’t help but cry when she said good-bye to her father and brother, uncertain when she would see them again. When they left, Remmington carried her to his bed, where he held her for a long time afterward. She hadn’t cried at all when they first returned from Harry’s. Her husband had kept her too distracted with fierce, possessive kisses. Then he’d made love to her, the emotions they shared so intense that she could think of nothing else. But now she could do nothing but cry.

“I can’t seem to stop,” she complained, wiping her eyes again with his handkerchief. He didn’t seem to mind. He continued to rub her shoulders in a comforting motion. “I don’t know what to do, Miles. So many dead, but it isn’t over yet. Not the war, not the deceptions.” She caught another sob in her throat.

“Hush, Lily. It’s all right. You don’t have to work for Bainbridge if you don’t want to.” He smoothed her hair back with his hand and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “You’ve already done more for the war effort than anyone could expect from one person.”

“But I don’t think I could sit idle while everyone else around me—” Another thought gave her pause. She leaned up on one elbow to search his face. “Will you continue
your
duties?”

“Of course,” he said, smiling. “My current assignment will keep me busy for the remainder of the war. Trevor can take over my duties at sea, but I will not trust your safety to anyone else but me.”

Lily didn’t share his humor. “You will give up your work, but you don’t expect me to do the same?”

“I just told you that I intend to fulfill my duties and remain on my current assignment.” The sparkle of humor and something a little more wicked lit his eyes. “A man cannot be remiss in his duties.”

She turned in his arms until she came to rest on top of his chest, then propped her chin on her hands. “I’ll resign if you want me to.”

The humor faded from his expression. “I think your work is too important to give up entirely, Lily. I’ll admit that I would be happier if you let your father take the translation work that comes from operatives other than your brother. I know the volume of messages that pass through Sir Malcolm’s hands.” His brows drew together in a frown. “Before all this started, how much time did you spend on translations?”

“Sometimes only an hour or so each day.” She pursed her lips. “But oftentimes the majority of my day.”

He began to rub her back as she spoke, his fingers lingering occasionally on the small, pearl buttons that secured the dress from her neck to her waist. “How much time would you spend if you worked only on Robert’s messages?”

“A few hours, perhaps a day or two at the most each week.” She felt her body begin to relax, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to lift her lips and place a kiss on her husband’s chin. There was always an element of fascination with the rough texture of his skin where he shaved. She reached up to stroke his cheek. She repeated the motion when she realized he liked the soothing strokes. She did, too.

“That sounds about right,” he mused. “There will come a day when you will not want to devote much more than a day or two each week to your work.”

His voice sounded deeper than normal and she recognized the desire that kindled to life in his eyes, a reflection of her own. “And what day would that be, my lord?”

“Well, I’ve heard that many new mothers like to devote much of their time to their babes. I just thought—”

She laid her fingers over his lips and shook her head, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice. “Miles, I am not with child.”

He pulled her hand away from his mouth, revealing a smile so handsome it made her ache inside.

“I know that, Lily.” His hands cupped her face and he drew her closer until his lips were just a breath from hers. “However, I have a plan.”

Elizabeth Elliott took a turn off the corporate fast track to write romances on the shores of a lake not far from Woebegone. In her spare time, she works as a freelance writer/consultant in the software industry. At home with her husband and sons, she is currently writing her next novel.