What You Propose (Anything for Love #2) (19 page)

He didn't need money. But it would be rude and ungrateful to refuse after such a heartfelt plea, and he sensed it was important to her. He would find a way to compensate her for the thoughtful gesture.

But how could he accept her precious gift knowing what he was about to do?

To keep her safe he needed to know everything about the business dealings of the Comte de Dampierre. Was there an accomplice? When it came to business and delving into people's affairs, Dudley Spencer was more adept at uncovering information.

Dudley's price would be high, of course.

The price would be information regarding Miss Beaufort's secret hideaway. The price would be a little cottage in the village of Marlow, somewhere near a church, he suspected.

Chapter 16

"Take this to your father come first light," Marcus said, handing the letter to a tired-looking Selene. "Tell him to send it as a matter of urgency." He sat back in the chair behind his desk and surveyed the five solemn faces.

"We have searched every room, Mr. Danbury." Andre shook his head and shrugged. "There is no one here. I am sure of it."

It was as he suspected.

Someone had found a way into his home, and it did not sit well with Marcus. "You searched every room, the warming room, the pot house?"

Andre nodded and then jerked his head to the man on his left. "Justin checked them all twice, made sure the windows were secure, checked for any sign of entry."

Justin plastered his hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn. "I did, Mr. Danbury."

"And what of Selene's and Matilda's room?"

"Andre, he even searched behind the armoire," Selene murmured.

"Very well." Marcus sighed. Once they had all returned to their beds, he would check again for any sign of forced entry. Just to be certain. He turned his attention to Selene. "I suggest you take Justin with you when you go down to the village. It would not be wise for a woman to walk alone until we know who we're dealing with."

Selene lowered her gaze. "Forgive me. But perhaps … perhaps Miss Sinclair was mistaken. Dreams can sometimes seem so real …
si vives
… so vivid."

Had they been talking about any other woman, Marcus might have considered the possibility. But Anna was no simpering miss. She had witnessed the worst kind of depravity, experienced the most terrifying abuse. Her courage knew no bounds. Unlike most women of his acquaintance, she did not have to lie or invent silly stories to get attention.

Marcus straightened. "If Miss Sinclair says she saw someone running out of the monastery, if she says she spoke to a man in the stables, then I believe her."

Selene nodded as she glanced at the floor. "
Oui
. Of course."

"Now." Marcus stood and brushed his hand through his hair. "It's just a few hours until dawn. You had all better get yourselves back to bed. But stay alert. I want to know the moment you encounter anything suspicious, hear a noise, discover something out of place, anything."

His staff nodded, and collectively muttered 'Yes, Mr. Danbury' as they vacated the room.

Marcus remained standing, his mind preoccupied with the night's events. Was Anna really in any danger? Or had the intruder used intimate knowledge of her situation to divert their suspicions away from his real objective.

Bloody hell
.

After putting an end to many nefarious plots over the years, numerous men could have broken into his home as a means to exact their revenge. He had always known the day would come. Up until now he hadn't given the matter much thought. When one possessed a certain skill in the art of pugilism, was adept with a sword and an accurate shot with a pistol, there was no need for concern.

So why did he feel like tracking down every suspect and stringing them up from the nearest tree?

Anna
.

With no family, no responsibilities, he had never given a damn for his own safety. He had accepted his fate a long time ago. With his type of work, one never presumed they'd live to see the sun rise. In a perverse way, he almost wished the day would come. Indeed, should anything happen to him he knew his father would blame himself for Marcus' death. When the time came for him to draw his last breath, the knowledge would bring him comfort. Anything that caused his father to suffer was worth the pain.

But now things had changed.

Now he felt responsible for another.

Not in the way he felt about Tristan — he would give his life for the man who'd been his loyal friend and constant companion. He would give his life for Anna, too, he suddenly realised. But as each day passed, the thought of living in the monastery without her, the thought of not having her in his life—

Damn it all. Dane had a lot to answer for. Indeed, he made a mental note to punch him hard on the nose the next time he laid eyes on him.

Pushing away from his desk, he picked up the candle and strode out under the shelter of the cloisters. With dawn fast approaching, there was little point sleeping, and so he retraced Anna's steps, searched for anything untoward.

Just as Andre had said, Marcus found no sign of forced entry. Despite various reports to the contrary, he had never found any sign of a secret entrance either.

Now, he would have to pursue another line of enquiry — one that left an empty, hollow feeling in his gut.

A member of his staff had let the intruder into his home.

It was the only feasible explanation. But why?

With a heavy sigh, he trudged upstairs, hovered outside Anna's door not knowing quite what to do. He would not reveal his suspicion: primarily because he did not want to alert the culprit. And he did not want Anna to worry. She had spent years looking over her shoulder, not knowing whom she could trust. He would not have her living in fear, not in his house.

No, he could not abide disloyalty and would secretly investigate the matter until he found the person responsible.

As though sensing his presence, she opened the door ajar and peered around. "I heard footsteps. Is everything alright?"

Damn. He did not want her to think he was insensitive, that he lingered with lascivious intentions in mind. "I have finished searching the house but couldn't sleep. Forgive me, if my prowling disturbed you."

She smiled, opened the door a little wider, and he was somewhat disappointed to see her soft curves shrouded in a cotton nightgown. "I couldn't sleep, either. I keep thinking about what he said to me. How he knew my name."

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment; his deep sense of longing reflected back at him, and he suspected their thoughts followed a similar vein.

"If you want company, you only have to say." Being the first to find the courage to speak, he added, "We could sit in the chapter house and read. You can tell me why you think I should farm the land."

Her eyes brightened. "Or you … you could come in. We could lie together, try to get a few hours sleep."

Desire ignited, but he imagined dousing the flames with ice-cold water. She did not need him to fawn over her. She needed comfort, kindness, and a few hours of peace. "Very well," he nodded and she stepped back for him to enter.

Later that night they rode down to the village.

"By the sound of it, a large number of people have decided to venture out this evening." Anna glanced across the road at the bustling inn, noting the sound of jovial singing and the golden glow spilling out of every window. "Tell me again what we're doing here?"

Marcus pulled her back into the shadows. Even in the dim light, his eyes sparkled with mischief, with a wicked sensuality. "We're here to enjoy ourselves, relax and have a drink."

"This time, I do not need to pretend to be your mistress." She felt her face flame as the words left her lips. The memory of their coupling warmed her heart. The memory of the hours spent sleeping in each other's arms warmed her soul.

"Don't say it like that." His tone held a hint of reproof. "You're not my mistress, Anna. The word implies something undignified, something shallow and self-serving, and in no way defines what we've shared."

Her heart fluttered at his response. Was he trying to be kind or had their joining meant something to him too? Could he ever care for her the way she cared for him?

"I simply meant things are different now." She refused to say anything more. To explore the topic of conversation might lead her to divulge her true feelings and she couldn't think about that now. "Besides, I thought we were here to investigate. I thought you were desperate to discover the identity of the intruder."

"We're here to relax and observe. To wait for the culprit to reveal himself."

"I doubt he's going to jump up, throw his hands in the air and confess all," she said as they stared at the stone building. While she saw the logic in Marcus' plan, the likelihood of finding the comte's accomplice sitting in full view of half the village was minimal at best.

"Obviously not, but I've often found the criminal mind to be rather predictable. Where best to find information than an inn full of loose-mouthed drunkards?"

Anna gasped. "You think Victor's accomplice has been staying here, that he has talked to the villagers?" How she managed to get the words out without shrieking was a mystery. The blackguard could have been watching her for days. The thought caused her to shiver, and Marcus drew the edges of her cape tightly across her chest, rubbed her upper arms.

"We don't know if the intruder is Victor's accomplice." He raised his hand when she opened her mouth to protest. "I know what you're going to say, that he must be, else how could he have known your name, your previous occupation."

"Exactly," she said with an element of frustration. "There is no other explanation."

A frisson of fear shot through her as she realised the gravity of her words. A man, just as cold and as callous as Victor, had come to seek his revenge.

Marcus raised an arrogant brow. "There is always another explanation, and more often than not it is glaringly obvious. We've missed a vital piece of the puzzle and tonight a casual conversation will lead us to the culprit."

"You seem mighty confident. I just hope you're right."

"I'm always right," he said with a chuckle. "Besides, if you think about it logically, the accomplice would have had to have been in London on the night Victor died. He would have had to have followed you here."

Anna tried to recall the events of the night she stabbed Victor. For her own sanity, she had hoped never to revisit them. Lord Danesfield had been busy arranging her departure. He had ridden alongside the carriage, stayed with them until they'd set sail. Fragments of memories flashed through her mind. Had they been followed? She didn't think so. Then again, her thoughts had been in a state of constant disarray.

"I don't remember seeing anyone lurking about, but I'm certain Lord Danesfield would have noticed."

Marcus nodded. "Precisely. Dane would have known the moment someone started trailing your carriage. And if the accomplice did follow you here, why wait three weeks to reveal himself? You've been down to the village numerous times on your own. He's had every opportunity to approach you before now."

Anna pondered his words. "I suppose it does sound a little far-fetched. But there is another option. What if he came looking for Victor at Labelles, heard of Lord Danesfield's involvement from one of the girls and found a way to read his letters?"

Marcus massaged his chin, the furrow between his brows growing more prominent. "It's nigh on impossible. The letters were all stamped with Dane's crest." He paused. "Unless he stole one, intercepted it on route somehow."

She had not thought of that. "So you believe there is a possibility the man in the stable could be Victor's accomplice?"

He stroked her cheek, the affectionate gesture calming her racing heart. "Look. We must not jump to conclusions. We must study the facts as they present themselves. I've written to Dudley Spencer, Dane's associate, and asked him to investigate the matter of the comte having a business partner. But it could take weeks for him to write back with news. In the meantime, we must see what we can discover for ourselves."

Anna forced a smile. Regardless of her earlier reservations, she trusted his decision. Besides, she enjoyed his company and the thought of spending a few leisurely hours with him was reward in itself.

They crossed the road to the inn. Marcus opened the door for her, and they walked inside. As she suspected, the place was full to bursting, every table occupied, the boisterous throng all singing along with a minstrel strumming his lute. Various smells flooded her senses: wood smoke mingled with stale tobacco, sweat and beef stew. It took a tremendous amount of effort not to cover her nose and gag.

Nodding to the few people who offered a greeting, she scanned the room. "Did you know it would be this busy?"

"One of the minstrels stayed on after the fair. I heard he has developed an affection for Lenard's sister."

Anna cast him a sidelong glance. Was that the reason for their visit? Was Marcus distrusting of the stranger amongst their midst?