What a Hero Dares (10 page)

She unwrapped her thumb and looked at the slice she’d inflicted on herself. Did Max realize what that slip with the knife meant? Of course he did. It meant she had lost her edge, her concentration. And that’s the sort of lapse that got people killed; her, or someone else. Like Max. She’d be no good to him, no good at all, if she couldn’t pull herself together. What had seemed so reasonable last night didn’t seem more than selfish nonsense to her today.

“Yes, my damnable pride. That about says it, thank you. In my defense, there were also the murdered agents. Georges. But I should have known you’d never trade their lives for your own benefit. Even if you say you forgive me, how do I forgive myself?
I should have known
.”

It was as if they were attempting to outdo each other, all but flogging themselves with guilt. But she couldn’t seem to stop.

“I believed Anton when he said you were dead. That might have been easier to accept than the idea that you were still alive, and had simply abandoned me. But I still should have gone searching for you the moment I was freed. Knowing Anton’s facile, lying tongue, I should have made certain.”

She looked at him, attempting to read his mind, she supposed. “If I had come to you, told you what really happened, would you have believed me? Or did we need this time apart, need Anton’s obvious betrayal last night, before you could ever begin to believe me? Please, Max, think about it for a moment, and answer honestly.”

Max slid his gaze away from her and stood up, turned his back on her. “I hoped you wouldn’t ask that question. Because I don’t know, Zoé. How can I know? I only know what I believe now, what I feel now.”

Zoé quietly got to her feet. That was the answer she’d hoped for: the truth. Her heart was pounding. With fear, with trepidation. “And what is it you feel now, Max?”

“Shame,” he said quietly. “Sorrow.” He was quiet for a few moments, even as she stepped around the blanket, to stand behind him. “Against all reason, hope...”

Trixie had told her it was up to Max and herself to take the next step, to talk to each other. They’d done that now. Truthfully. Honestly. Now the time had passed for talking. Actions often spoke more clearly than words.

She slid her arms around his waist, laid her cheek against his back. She wanted so badly to give in; so badly. “Life is difficult enough, isn’t it? To live it without hope makes life unbearable, nothing more than a dark, desperate existence. All that’s moved me forward these last months has been my determination to be the instrument of Anton’s destruction. I never thought beyond that moment. Yet I’ll have nothing after that, Max. I’m afraid to have nothing, be left with a yawning void ahead of me and no reason to live.”

He turned within the circle of her arms. “We could have each other. We could find a way. There has to be a way to begin again.”

To begin again
. She moistened her dry lips by pulling them in and licking them with her tongue. Yes, that was it. That’s what she’d needed to hear, even if she hadn’t realized it until he’d said the words. But still she couldn’t trust her voice. She only nodded, her eyes speaking for her, his eyes speaking for him.

“A way to learn to love. Not again, because what we thought we had was clearly flawed, superficial, a passion of the moment or some such rot. But to really learn to love. I’m more than ready to do that. Am I worth the risk for you, Zoé?”

She raised her hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I think you are, yes. I need to rid my heart of hate, which is all it has held these last long months. And...and when there’s no reason left to hate, when I’ve had my rightful vengeance, and when you’ve made your family safe again, perhaps there will be more grown between us than simply hope.”

She believed she might melt in the new light in Max’s eyes as he cupped her face between his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. “To seal our bargain,” he breathed, and she closed her eyes, waiting for his kiss.
Always the opportunist,
she thought.
Thank God...

The pistol shot sounded like the thunderclap heralding the end of the world, and Zoé felt her breath half knocked out of her as Max threw her to the ground, covering her with his own body. He counted to ten beside her ear, and then rolled off her, toward the pistols lying on the blanket, even as she raised her right leg, bent at the knee, and slid the stiletto from her boot. Whoever was out there had destroyed what was going to be a new beginning for she and Max, and was going to damn well pay for the interruption!

“Anton?” she whispered as they took cover against the first row of trees, as the shot had come from behind them. And, she belatedly realized, had come nowhere near them.

“No. I think the shot was more of a signal that we have company. See anything?”

“Company? What the devil does that mean?” Looking into the trees after being in the bright sunlight wasn’t easy. It was like looking from light into dark. To have any hope of seeing in the dark, one had to
be
in the dark.

“Sorry to interrupt a tender moment,” came a voice from the trees. Max and Zoé both swung to their left, trying to locate the voice. But when the man spoke again, his voice seemed to be coming from their right. “I fired into the air, merely attempting to save any of us embarrassment. I’m Simon’s friend, by the way. I believe you were told to expect me at the copse.”

Zoé was caught somewhere between embarrassment and outrage. “What’s he saying? This whole thing—suggesting the copse, the basket,
everything?
All so you could meet with some— Max, I could kill you right now.”

“I rather sense that, yes.” Max then put a finger to his lips, warning her to silence. “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, but I was sidetracked. Pleasantly, but sidetracked. I’ll explain later.”

“You’ll also apologize later, except that we’re both idiots, and could be dead right now.”

“
That
I’ll ignore, even though you’re right.” He raised his voice. “Simon didn’t give me a name, only where we should meet. I didn’t want to insist on the copse when you said no to it, but you were willing to stop here.”

The unseen man spoke again, with some humor in his tone. “If you’re through discussing our location? My name isn’t important, only that I’m not an enemy. You met a few of my men last night.”

“I thought it would be you. The pirate,” Max said, discarding the pistols before he got to his feet. “Simon’s helpful friend.”

“He’s a fine man, yes, but I first became acquainted with your grandmother several years ago. Now, young lady, if you’d kindly slip that stiletto back into your boot, I’ll dare to step out of the shadows.”

Zoé did as suggested—she refused to consider his words an order—and watched as a tall, well set-up man clad in superbly tailored but otherwise nondescript brown separated himself from the tree trunks. He wore a brown slouch hat pulled down over one eye, and a black silk handkerchief covered the lower half of his face.

“Pardon the dramatics, but I rather relish my anonymity,” he said as he stopped just at the edge of the tree line, remaining in the shade. “You’ve got quite a lot on your plate, Mr. Redgrave, haven’t you, even more than the rest of your family? What’s his name?”

Max didn’t hesitate. “Boucher. Anton Boucher. Do you have him?”

“No, more’s the pity. Billy, one of my longtime associates, and more past it than he’d care to admit, nearly prevented this Boucher of yours from making it beyond the crest of the hill last night. But when two heavily armed riders appeared, leading a saddled mount between them, Billy prudently rethought his notion of heroism and hid in the bushes. Your man is gone, his companions one man, one woman. Or at least Billy believes one was male. Only the woman spoke, clearly unhappy with this fellow Boucher. Billy said he’s heard fishwives with more civil tongues in their heads.”

“The couple in Ostend,” Zoé said unnecessarily. “Where does that leave us, Max?”

“If I may?” the stranger asked. “With the majority of your staff turned enemy, you are dangerously vulnerable, with all the Redgraves still in need of my assistance, which I freely grant. Some of my crew and their mates will continue their vigilance at Redgrave Manor, under direction of Jacko, my second in command. The rest will continue as they’ve been, systematically ridding the coastline of Bonaparte’s smuggled troops. You are aware of the intention to capture the Martello Towers when the signal is given of an attack from the sea?”

“Max? That’s impossible. Bonaparte doesn’t have the ships to carry an army across the Channel. We haven’t worried about a threat of invasion since Trafalgar.”

“Mr. Redgrave? Would you be kind enough to inform Mademoiselle
Charbonneau of the number of smuggling craft—from old tubs to the fastest sloops—routinely anchored in Gravelines on a prime smuggling night such as the one just passed?”

“Sweet Jesus,” Max hissed, looking at Zoé. “He’s right. Bonaparte has built hotels for the smugglers’ convenience, not just in Gravelines but in Dunkirk, as well.”

“And other places,” the stranger added. “We’ve made it our point to search them out. Quite the hospitable gentleman, don’t you think? And more than happy to trade French silks and brandy for gold to pay his troops and wool for their uniforms. Not to mention smugglers being marvelous conduits for newspapers and other news, and for transporting spies.”

“And troops. You’re saying the emperor has been shoveling troops across the Channel, a few pebbles at a time, until he has built himself a mountain?” Zoé’s mind was whirling, all thoughts of romance gone, her attention concentrated solely on solving the puzzle in front of her. That exercise didn’t take long. “Positioning them to overtake the Martello Towers at his signal, silencing the guns aimed out to sea. For the invasion itself, he’d plan it for one of the nights the smugglers are most active, and simply commandeer their boats for his troops. All those boats, all at once. The Revenue cutters would be overwhelmed; not enough patrol ships, too many targets. With the towers already in French hands, the boats could land without much fuss.” She turned to Max. “And Anton is a part of this?”

“It would appear so, yes. At the least, he works for the Society, while Redgrave Manor and its proximity to London is not only one of the landing points, but probably destined to become their headquarters. Granted, it’s not a castle, with high stone walls and battlements, but it does have its subtle defensive qualities, not to mention ample land and resources to hide an army. My father and grandfather made sure of that, for their own treasonous purposes.”

“Your grand— No, you can explain that another time. You can explain a
lot
another time. Continue.”

“With your kind permission, yes, I believe I will.”

The pirate chuckled. “Clearly you two aren’t recent acquaintances, and have enjoyed sparring for a long time. This should prove entertaining.”

“We have our moments, yes,” Max said as Zoé averted her eyes. “But to continue? With the Towers’ guns under French control, our English fighting ships wouldn’t dare approach the coast, and by the time we could launch a land force of any size, it’s possible the French would have already established themselves. With more troops to follow.”

Zoé was still finding this information difficult to take in, until she realized what would be necessary for there to be any chance at success. “With our grand island a defense all on its own, Bonaparte needed cooperation from this side of the Channel. Rather an invasion from within. This Society of yours?”

“Treason, yes, but with the promise of a great reward. Trixie and the others believe they know what that is. As for Anton, he was either watching the Society for the French, or was recruited by the Society itself, and assigned, among other duties, to keep his eyes on me.
Use
me in some way, as they’ve used others. But then I got suspicious, and he had to make other plans. I was going to tell you, just as soon as I’d gotten it all sorted out in my mind.”

“And how are you involved?” she asked, looking at the patiently waiting stranger once more. The pirate. “You stumbled over this plan somehow, and notified Trixie? Or was it she who came to you?”

“I would say it was a smattering of both. Someone approached several of the entrepreneurs I lend my protection, offering them gold for their assistance, stirring my curiosity. Before you ask exactly who was approached,
mademoiselle,
yes
,
smugglers.”

“You’ve traded piracy for smuggling? No wonder you don’t want to show your face.”

The stranger cocked his one visible eyebrow as he looked at Max. “Does she often speak before she thinks?”

“Not usually, no.” Max grinned. “It was that kiss you interrupted,” he returned easily. “Her mind is still muddled with moonbeams. Isn’t it, darling?”

Unbelievably, Zoé found herself laughing. And apologizing. Oh, it was good to be back with Max again, on every level. Good to be back in the game. “Touché, Max. I apologize, sir. Please go on,” she said, knowing her cheeks had turned a betraying pink.

“I will, thank you. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. The dowager countess supplied the information about the Society’s existence, telling me only what I needed to know, that Redgrave land is possibly being used by them as some sort of safe haven. Over time, she has told me the rest. She’s a very brave lady, and her secrets are safe with me. All Redgrave secrets are safe with me. I couldn’t do less, as I have secrets of my own.”

Zoé opened her mouth, to apologize again, but then prudently kept her silence.

“However, no matter who or what I was, I am an Englishman now, and loyal not only to my country but to those under my protection. I’m here to help, but I am not a Good Samaritan. I have my family, my loyal people, and I have my reasons to despise traitors. I want my corner of the world to return to what it was. When this is over we’ll be gone, without thanks, which are not necessary, and without satisfying your curiosity. Simon understands that, but I’ve learned you Redgraves can be doggedly inquisitive.” He looked deeply into Max’s eyes. “That wouldn’t be wise.”