Unmasking the Spy (37 page)

Carlotta swung open the door and
Ian stalked inside, stumbling to a stop when he saw the situation.

“I’ve been looking for you,
Larouche. Had I known you were here, I wouldn’t have wasted my time searching your
townhouse.”

“Well, now you found me. Where’s
my money?”

Alicia narrowed her eyes at Ian.
“Wait. You knew what he was up to all along and you didn’t tell me?”

A faint blush stained his
cheekbones, but he crossed his arms and glared at her. “What, like you’ve
always been honest with me… Elizabeth?”

Well, maybe not about that, but
he’d lied to her about being Rogue, about being a spy, about investigating her
father, and even about where and why he’d taken off without a word. Surely that
outweighed her naming herself Elizabeth. Alicia thrust her nose in the air.
“You’re so deceitful it’s stupid.”

Ian threw out his arms in
exasperation. “If I’m so stupid, how come I’m the one here doing the rescuing,
and you’re the defenseless one being held hostage?”

“Ransom!” Louis shrieked,
changing his aim from Beatrix to Ian. “She’s being held for ransom! Can we get
back on topic here?”

Alicia glared at Ian, then Louis.
The repeated blow to her head from her cousin’s gun may have disabled her
thinking, but Alicia realized she needed a plan. She just didn’t have one. She
frowned at her bloodstained hands. For lack of anything else to use, she wiped
her tacky skin down the sides of her dress, freezing when one palm rubbed
across something strange. With a slow movement, she slid her hand into her
pocket and closed her fingers around cold metal.

“You’re wrong, husband,” Alicia
said, turning toward Louis. “I’m not defenseless.”

Before Louis had a chance to face
her, she pulled the knife from her pocket and shoved it into his side, pushing
his shoulder as he fell. His pistol clattered to the floor and she kicked it
against the wall.

“You bitch! You stabbed me!”
Louis cried, clutching at his bloody waistcoat and rolling on the ground.

Ian sprang forward, trussing
Louis up with a loose length of rope from the floor by Carlotta’s chair and
removing his cravat to press against his wound.

A new shadow darkened the
doorway. Carlotta backed away and sat back down in her chair, exchanging
quizzical glances with Beatrix. Alicia didn’t recognize him until he’d stepped
out of the sun.

“I got your note, Morrissey.” The
cultured voice matched the well-dressed gentleman perfectly.

Ian looked up and smiled. “He’s
all yours, Porter. No one here will miss him.”

Porter grabbed Louis by the
ankles while Ian looped his arms under his armpits. Within moments, they’d
carried him out to Porter’s waiting coach. Ian gave a little salute and stood
staring down the road. Still shaking, Alicia fell to her knees to untie her
great-aunt. Somehow, despite all the excitement, Beatrix had managed to fall
asleep.

Ian came back into the cottage
with a man she didn’t recognize, but whose voice was instantly familiar.
Caspian – the man whose mid-night visit had enabled her to discover her husband
was much more than the simple man she’d thought she married.

“What happened to Larouche?”

“I sent him off with Porter,” Ian
answered as he untied his sister’s wrists. “Don’t worry, he’ll get what’s
coming to him.”

“All right. What can I do for you
here?”

“Take Carlotta and Miss Beatrix
back to Heatherley. See that they’re taken care of.”

Caspian nodded and looped one arm
for Carlotta, who paused for just a moment before placing her hand inside the
crook of his elbow. Caspian turned and reached out his other hand for Beatrix.
Alicia helped her aunt to her feet and shook her head when Beatrix placed her
bony hand directly in Caspian’s strong one and gave him a saucy grin.

After Caspian led them from the
cottage, Ian closed the door behind them and crossed the room. “Are you all
right, sweeting?”

Alicia nodded. “I’m sure I look a
fright, but I’m fine.”

Ian bent his head to hers and
settled a sweet, tender kiss on her lips. He lifted his head and smoothed her
hair from her face, frowning at the cut on her forehead and the bruise on her
cheek.

“We need to get you something to
put on that before it swells. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Alicia shook her head. “I said
I’m fine. Louis is gone, that’s all I care about.”

“That’s all?” came Ian’s soft
echo. Suddenly, a question flashed in his eyes and his gaze flicked to her
neck. With a gentle finger, he traced the line of the chain around her neck and
lifted the heart-shaped locket from its place between her breasts. He flipped
open the catch and let out a bark of laughter. “It’s not empty anymore!”

A grin threatened to ruin
Alicia’s solemn expression. “Because our love is no mystery.”

Ian snapped the locket closed and
dropped it back under her bodice. “How did you do it?”

“I had Poppy draw miniature
portraits. She’s amazing. And I put them inside the heart because I hoped we
could finally have the sort of marriage we both wanted from the start.”

Ian’s eyes twinkled and his tone
turned husky. “In that case, I think I owe you a proper honeymoon.”

“You owe me plenty. You stole my
heart.”

“And I’m keeping it – if you’ll
let me. After all, you stole mine. I meant what I said… ‘My regard for you just
grows and grows.’ Even if my poetry never improves.”

“Oh, Ian. The only thing I want
is you.”

Ian’s sudden grin bloomed then
faltered. “But you don’t need me. You’re amazing. You even rescued yourself. I
made a muck of it every time I tried.”

Alicia launched herself into his
arms. “I’ll always need you. You’re my heart-held hero and my very favorite
fantasy.”

After a moment, his arms
tightened around her and his lips pressed against the top of her head. “Then
we,” he said, picking her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist and her
arms encircled his neck, “are about to make a few of mine come true.”

Giggling, Alicia let him carry
her into the cottage’s cozy bedchamber, blissful that true love had finally
been unmasked.

THE END

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