Surrender to a Wicked Spy (33 page)

Read the entire thing. You shall see.

He did, and he had to admit that he thoroughly enjoyed it, even dropping his head back and laughing helplessly at parts.

He saw his life and his household as he'd never seen it before. She was wry and ridiculous and she never missed a single thing, showing him his life through Olivia-tinted lenses that made him miss her smile with a deep, sudden stab of loss.

Then he read the last lines, dated two days before, scrawled in pencil with wounded hands.

Every moment he was in the room, a part of me longed to throw myself on him and weep away my fears and longing. I love him so…

Dane was finding it hard to breathe. He couldn't go on; he couldn't hide it from himself any longer.

He loved her
. He loved his sweet, droll, spirited Lady Greenleigh with all his heart, and more so with every breath he took.

What a fool he was.

Not for loving her, but for doubting himself. How could he ever think loving her was a weakness?

Lady Reardon's words came back to him.
Why did you marry in the first place if you were never going to put your faith in a woman
?

Faith. His faith in other fragile humans—and in himself, to recognize wicked from decent—had died with his father.

Until Lady Olivia pulled him from the mud.

In the mill, Olivia was still in the dark, waiting for Walter to awaken. She'd pressed her ear to his cool mouth and felt his breath and rejoiced that he was not dead after all—but he was so still and cold.

She lay down behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hoping her warmth would help him.

And she waited.

Now that she thought on it, she hated waiting, and she ought to know. She'd done more than her share of it.

She been waiting away the years in Cheltenham. Waiting for her parents to care if she existed, waiting for her life to begin, waiting for her dreams—dreams she had never admitted to anyone as she went about her life—to come true.

And for a little while, they had.

Rather, she had convinced herself they had. She'd placed her heart on a plate and served it to the world along with a knife and fork. She had never believed in anyone or anything the way she had believed in Dane.

How could she have been so naive that she thought her knight would ride in on his white horse and save her from her life?

Instead, she'd pulled a Viking god from the mud.

Perhaps she ought to have known right then that things were not going to go as planned.

Yet who could have predicted matters would go so badly, so quickly? As instantly as their passion for each other had ignited, it had burned away every possibility they had of being happy.

She'd done everything she knew to do. She'd tried so hard to be who he wanted her to be, until she scarcely recognized herself anymore.

He'd left her anyway.

No. You left him first.

Olivia pressed a hand to her throat. Oh no.

She
had
left him first. When he'd failed to rescue her in the wood, she'd given up on him. She'd listed him with her parents and Miss Hackerman and the Greenleigh servants—all the people who had never been there for her. Just like that, she'd thrown him back like an unsatisfactory fish. Because he wasn't as perfect as she'd wanted to believe he was, she'd rejected him.

Just like every other woman had.

The ache in her heart was no longer for herself alone now. What she'd done—it was the same as she'd accused him of.

She'd had no faith in him. No faith that he could join her in hammering out something wonderful in the fire they had begun together. Just because she'd fallen in love very nearly immediately didn't mean that he would, too. She'd not bothered giving second chances or third chances or fourth if required for him to see what they could become.

He'd failed her once, so she'd given up on him.

And now he was gone, heading away from her, and heaven knew when she'd see him again.

Next to her, Walter stirred.

"Walt?" She rose to her knees and put her hands on his shoulders. "Walt, please wake up."

"Livvie?" His voice was a rasp. "That tears it. I've gone barking mad."

Olivia laughed, tears of happiness forming in her eyes. She wrapped her arms about her brother. "Walt, you aren't dead!"

He coughed. "No, but apparently I'm mad," he croaked. "Bugger it all. I tried so hard to hang on."

Olivia only laughed and laughed, hanging on to the only person in the world she was sure loved her.

"Livvie, for a hallucination, you certainly do cut off a bloke's air."

"Oh!" She released him, giggling madly as she cried. "I'm sorry… I'm simply so—"

"Bloody hell," Walt breathed. "You're
rear

"Indeed." She fought to get hold of herself. "As happy as I am to see you alive and well—"

Walt coughed again. "Scratch the 'well,' I'm afraid. I've been sick for—I don't really know how long, but I'm bloody weak."

"You drowned more than a month ago," Olivia told him.

Walter scoffed. "I did not! Can you imagine—" His indignation was cut off by coughing. Olivia pounded him helpfully until he was done.

"It was that bloody valet."

"Yes," agreed Olivia. "Bloody Sumner."

"Damn right, bloody—hold on; how do you know Sumner?"

Olivia sighed. "To make a short story of it…" She counted on her fingers. "I hired him. He made the Duchess of Halswick vomit. He made a fool of me at the Hunt Ball. He tried to kill George. He made my husband reject me. He shot me. He kidnapped me…" She thought for a moment. "Yes, that covers it fairly well."

Walt whistled. "Bloody Sumner."

Olivia nodded sadly. "Bloody Sumner indeed."

"Hmm. Husband?"

"Lord Greenleigh. Very handsome."

" 'The Dane.' Not bad. This George bloke?"

Olivia sighed. "The Prince Regent. Very sweet."

"My, you have been busy. The Duchess of Halswick, eh? Must have been the kippers."

Olivia nodded. "Under her eggs. Ruined a number of fine carpets."

"Bloody Sumner."

They sat in companionable silence for a bit. Then Walter shifted. "How's Mum?"

"Under arrest. Father, too."

Walter sighed. "I tried to get them out of it, Livvie. A few more weeks and I
would have wed Miss Hackerman."

"I know." Olivia leaned back on her hands. "Although if I were you, I'd rather be trapped in this mill."

Walt fell back, snickering helplessly, with an intermittent cough. Olivia listened with a smile on her lips.

"Walter, we know this mill better than anyone. How was it that you haven't been able to escape?"

Walter caught his breath. "Ah, then you missed the leash." He did something and Olivia heard a chain rattle on the floor. "Tight around my ankle. Tied up like a bloody dog."

"Is it very long?" If they could climb up the millstone's machinery to the miller's chamber upstairs, there might be something—

"I can walk this chamber," he said, "but only just. The bloody thing gets wrapped around the millstone."

The millstone
. Two hundred stone of… well,
stone
!

"Walt, if I can engage the gears… do you think the millstone can crush the chain?"

"That's my favorite plan," he said agreeably. "There are two issues, however. One, I couldn't get upstairs to throw the lever."

"That's where I come in," Olivia said excitedly.

"Two, if the chain gets caught up, I could get dragged into the millstone myself."

Olivia deflated. "Oh. That isn't good."

"My second-favorite plan was to surprise Sumner when he enters, strangle him with the chain, divest him of his key, and walk out the front door."

"I like that. Especially the strangling-Sumner part. Why isn't that your favorite plan?"

"It was. But then he left and never came back. Until today, apparently."

Olivia gaped. "He left you chained here while he went to work for me? How did you survive?"

"There's a lovely drip of water there in the corner that never dries up. As far as food, I simply stopped thinking about it a while ago."

Olivia reached out. "Give me your hand." He placed his cold hand in hers. She slid her fingers up his wrist and under his tattered sleeve.

His arm was nothing but bone and stringy muscle. "Oh, Walter!"

He pulled away. "Well, you know, bloody Sumner and all."

She felt icy with fury. "Let me strangle him. Please?"

"Be my guest. If he ever comes back."

At that moment, the door opened, flooding the room with light.

«
^
»

When the light swept the room, Walter went limp. Olivia threw her arm before her eyes, blinded.

"Forgot to tell you about that part," Walter whispered from where he lay like the dead. "That's why it never worked out."

Olivia blinked back the blindness quickly, but then she hadn't been in here for weeks like Walter. What had seemed like a brilliant sunbeam was merely the light from a cheap lantern.

Sumner stood in the circle of light, holding the lantern high. "Who untied you?"

Olivia spread her hands. "The ghost, of course."

Apparently Sumner wasn't the superstitious sort, for his expression became derisive. "Ballocks. You wormed out of the bindings, didn't you?"

It had been worth a try. Olivia folded her arms. "You must release us. Walter is very ill."

To her amazement, Sumner actually looked worried. "I know he is. That's one reason why I brought you here."

"What did you do to him?"

"He drowned—or almost."

Olivia narrowed her eyes. " 'Ballocks,' " she quoted.

"I did it for the same reason I kidnapped you. To protect you both!"

He knelt next to Walter, putting his hand over Walter's brow. "We were on the pleasure barge, Wallingford and us and
him
."

Olivia didn't think he meant Walter.

Sumner went on. "They were going to kill your brother when he refused to cooperate. I followed him up on deck and I conked him on the head, planning to carry him off the barge in one of the small boats. He fell left instead of right and hit the water. It was a close call, trying to get him out." He shook his head. "The water was terribly dark."

Did he expect her to feel sorry for him? He could have killed Walter—and still might if she couldn't get her brother to a physician!

Sumner went on, spilling everything in a shaky, desperate manner. He was the unwilling minion of a French spy, who had a hold over him because of his criminal past. He was being forced to act against them but couldn't bring himself to kill people who had been so kind to him.

As he went on—and on and bloody on—it became apparent to Olivia that Sumner was a weak man but not an evil one.

He explained that he did his best to foil his master's plan to manipulate Dane by keeping Olivia and Dane from succeeding in their marriage. Unfortunately, when Dane sent Olivia away, Sumner's master decided that she must be eliminated to make room for another attempt.

Sumner had been ordered to kill her just as he was ordered to kill her brother.

Olivia took a breath as Sumner's story wound down. She had to be careful here. He was obviously in a very unbalanced state.

She slapped him across the top of his head. "You bloody idiot!" she shrieked at him. "Don't you realize who my husband is? Who I am? If you had come to me, I could have helped you! I could have gone to the Prince Regent himself on your behalf! You didn't have to kidnap us!"

Sumner held up both hands against her tirade. "Rescued! Not kidnapped—rescued!"

Olivia planted both fists on her hips. "Don't be stupid. We're obviously your prisoners. Walter is very ill and very thin. In a few more days he might die." She swallowed back panic. She must convince Sumner.

"Please listen, Sumner." She forced her voice to a soothing level. "It's not too late. If you take us to Cheltenham House, I will send for my husband and tell him only what he needs to know. You'll be a hero, Sumner, not a criminal. A richly rewarded hero," she said warmly. "Very richly rewarded."

But Sumner only shook his head urgently. "No. No,
he
will find out. I'll be too dead to be rewarded."

Olivia held out her hands to calm him. "I see. Of course not. We must work that out then, how to protect you. But we can't do that until we get to Cheltenham House. We'll all be safe there. It's only a half—" She wasn't any too quick these days. "It's only an hour's walk from here."

Sumner nodded. "I know. That's why I chose this place. No one ever looks under their very nose."

It was true. To think she may have driven right past the captive Walter when she'd first left Cheltenham for London!

"Walter used to tell me stories about the two of you as children," Sumner added fondly. "How you used to play here. I thought he might like it."

Olivia blinked. Bloody Sumner was bloody well out of his mind. "Sumner, Walter doesn't like it here anymore. Walter likes Cheltenham House."

Sumner looked down at Walter, then back up at her. "I don't know what to do. He won't like it if I disobey."

"Sumner," Olivia softened her voice with great care. "Sumner, haven't you already disobeyed him when you refused to kill us?" She had to step cautiously. She wouldn't want Sumner to suddenly regret keeping them alive.

Sumner blinked. "You're right," he said slowly. "You're right. It's already too late, isn't it?" He reached into his pocket.

Olivia froze. What was it? A pistol? A knife?

A key. Sumner bent next to Walter's ankle manacle. Olivia closed her eyes and let her breath out softly.

"How perfectly accurate, Sumner," came a voice from the doorway. Olivia jerked her head up to see a small, dapper, round-faced man standing there, with two taller men behind.

"It is much, much too late." The small man smiled kindly at Olivia over his pistol. "Lady Greenleigh, I assume? Forgive my informality, but I already feel I know you so well, having shot you myself." He bowed. "Let me introduce myself. I am the Chimera or, as your parents know me, the Debt Collector."