Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 02] (44 page)

“Me, I heard it said that Michael could make that possible,” Antony said, grinning. “I tell you,
mon ami,
I am sad to think we capture only a merchantman.”

“You won’t be when you get your share. Taking Wellington was no more than a ridiculous pipe dream, if it was that. Oh, aye, I heard the tale myself but didn’t credit it, and nor did any man o’ sense. Dunno who began it. I ask you, who would be so crazed as that? Michael? I wish I may see it. Got too much fondness for his own skin, Michael has. Ain’t even here yet, is he?”

“Is he not?”

“Not as I know. Here now,” he added in an entirely different tone, “what be all them lights yonder near to our ship? And what the devil’s all that row?”

At the sound of shouts and a pistol shot, Antony melted back into the darkness till he found himself against the cliff wall. The last thing he wanted was to be captured or identified as Sir Antony where any of the others might overhear. Hurrying footsteps crunched across the shingle from all directions. Lanterns flickered to life here and there, and already, out on the dark water, the merchantman and her escort were turning.

Carefully, quietly, he made his way toward the nearest trail up the cliff. Then a familiar voice spoke out of the shadows. “I thought you’d come this way, Sir Antony.”

Charley heard the commotion below. She could see more lights at sea, and many more at the end of the beach. Gunshots sounded, first one, then sporadic echoes, enough to make her fear again for Antony’s life. Silence followed. She peered through the darkness, but the distant lanterns cast little if any light onto the trail, and the stirring breeze made it hard to tell if anyone was moving nearby. Her skin prickled, and her heart thumped. Desperate to know who was in command on the beach, she held her pistol at the ready, feeling both afraid to move and afraid to stay where she was.

Even in her habit skirt, she knew she would be unable to descend safely without a light if she kept her pistol in hand, but she was determined not to put it down. Thinking that if she could command a broader view of the beach, she could perhaps discern what was happening, she stood up at last. Then, taking care to make no sound, and moving with extreme care, she took a few steps toward the trail.

Noise of sliding stones stopped her in her tracks. Squinting, trying to pierce the darkness ahead, she waited, breathless, hoping against hope that it would be Oakes or Gabriel who came. She made no sound, certain that either of them would speak first to reassure her of her safety. The approaching figure said not a word. Moreover, he moved furtively, as if he were afraid of ambush.

“Halt,” she commanded fiercely, “or I’ll shoot.”

“Angel, if you put a bullet in me, I’ll be even angrier than I am right now, so I’d strongly advise you not to do it.”

Lowering the pistol, she flung herself at him, crying, “You’re safe! I was so afraid they might have—”

“Not yet they haven’t,” Michael Peryllys snapped from above them at the same moment Antony caught her in his arms. “But he’s a dead man now, madam, and so, I’m afraid, are you. Step away from him. Now. Good evening, Sir Antony, or are you Jean Matois tonight, or perhaps even the infamous
Le Renardeau?”

Startled, Charley whirled in Antony’s arms and saw Michael’s menacing figure shadowed against the few stars overhead. Without a second thought, she raised her pistol and fired. An echoing shot answered hers harmlessly as the figure fell forward and rolled. Before either of them could move to stop it, it pitched over the edge.

Gasping with shock, she stared at Antony and said, “I didn’t realize he was so close to the edge. How did he know you are
Le Renardeau?”

“I don’t know that he did,” Antony said grimly. “He was more likely flinging darts in hopes of hitting a mark.” He drew a long breath, then added, “By God, madam, if I were a man of violence, or even a sensible one, I’d put you across—”

“I just saved your life!”

“At a considerable risk to your own.” Grabbing her shoulders hard, he shook her and snapped, “How dared you leave the house tonight of all nights!”

To her astonishment, Charley found that she did not mind being shaken, particularly since he pulled her tight against him afterward and held her. He was breathing hard, as if he had been running. A moment later, he muttered against her curls, “Give me that damned pistol before you shoot one of us in the foot.”

Obeying, she said, “What should we do about Michael? I suppose I ought to feel quite dreadful at having killed him—at least … He must be dead, mustn’t he?”

Antony said harshly, “You can be sure that he is. No one could survive—” He broke off on an odd, hesitant note, as if he had remembered something.

“What? Do you know of someone who
did
survive a fall like that?”

With no more man a brief hesitation he replied firmly, “No. Michael is dead, angel, never fear. I’ll have to go back down and tell Oakes what happened here, but I cannot take you with me. Will you be all right here for another few moments? With Michael dead, you’ve nothing more to fear, but you’d best keep out of sight.”

“I don’t know that there’s nothing more to fear,” she said, wishing she could read the expression on his face. “Are you still angry with me?”

“We’ll talk about that when we get home.”

“What about Wellington?”

This time his hesitation was clear, and when he spoke there was amusement in his voice. “Damned if I didn’t forget him! Still, I’ve time enough to take you home and get back to Fowey to meet his ship. If there ever was a threat against him, the danger is past now, but he will expect a full report from me before we depart for Truro.”

“We’ll both meet his ship,” Charley said matter-of-factly.

“Will we?”

“We will. Not knowing exactly what would happen tonight, I arranged for Jeb and Teddy to take Letty on to Tuscombe Park without me. She has Jenifry with her, so she is content, and Alfred and Edythe won’t miss me. They will be taking a number of carriages, you know, and Aunt Ophelia will be glad to keep an eye on Letty.”

“Stay here,” Antony commanded. “We’ll talk about this after I tell Oakes how Michael Peryllys happened to collect a bullet and throw himself to the beach.”

“That bullet’s in his black heart,” Charley said, “if he had a heart.”

But Antony had already gone, and she heard his retreating footsteps, slipping and sliding down the steep path.

B
Y THE TIME ANTONY
returned, Charley had begun to wonder if he had run into trouble, but when she saw that James Gabriel accompanied him with a lantern, she relaxed. Gabriel said anxiously, “I hope you were not frightened here by yourself, ma’am. I could scarcely credit my ears when Sir Antony said he had left you alone.”

Charley smiled. “I told you, he is a reasonable man, sir.” Hoping that her words would act upon Antony in the same way that Oakes’s trust had affected her earlier, she added with amusement, “I am not afraid of the dark, you know.”

“Well, as to that, ma’am, I must say that if you had been my wife or daughter”—his voice seemed to catch, but he recovered quickly—“I would not be so sanguine at finding you here at such a time, as Sir Antony appears to be. Indeed, I was astonished to learn that
he
was below on the beach. That skirmish was no place for a gentleman, though I confess that if Oakes had not identified him for me, I would have taken him for one of the wreckers, myself. One must admire his zeal, but you will admit that his action was foolhardy. Do you know those villains originally planned to capture the Duke of Wellington? I talked to one of them, and he confessed straight out that they intended to hold His Grace to ransom, and failing that, to assassinate him! I don’t doubt they would have killed you as well, Sir Antony, had they caught you.”

“Do you think so, indeed?” Antony said. Despite his grubby appearance, he had reverted to the haughty drawl that had served him so well. He went on, “I hardly knew myself what I was about, Gabriel, so it was a damned good thing Oakes had everything in hand. When the excitement began I nearly tripped over my own two feet in my haste to escape. Fortunately, knowing I would be there, Oakes took it upon himself to watch for me at the foot of the path. I own, though, when he stepped out of the darkness and spoke my name, I nearly screeched like a Scotch banshee out of sheer terror.”

Charley said soulfully, “I think you were very brave, sir.” Feeling his hand at her elbow, she expected for a moment that he might take advantage of the darkness to pinch her for her impudence, but he did not. He grasped her arm, and although his fingers tightened warningly, they would leave no bruises.

He said dryly, “Thank you, my love. It is ever my aim to impress you, and now that all danger has passed …”

“As to that,” Gabriel said when he paused, “I am not sure that all danger
has
passed. Certainly, with that murdering scoundrel Michael Peryllys dead and gone, Cornwall is a safer place, but there are many others like him. I need hardly remind you that that French scoundrel,
Le Renardeau,
is still on the loose.”

“Just who is this chap?” Antony demanded. “I find it hard to believe that such a rascal could flit around Cornwall with impunity. Surely, if he is French—”

“So the men tell me,” Gabriel said. “He is said to be extremely dangerous, too, so I would be remiss if I failed to warn you. I mean to get word to the Duke, as well, for with the least threat remaining against his life, one cannot be too careful. If anything should happen to His Grace in Cornwall, we should never live it down.”

“As it happens,” Antony said, “Lady Foxearth and I have been invited to travel to Truro in His Grace’s party. I can deliver your warning to him, if you like.”

“Well, now, that does solve one problem for me,” Gabriel said. “As mayor of Lostwithiel, I had hoped to be on hand to welcome him to Cornwall, but for my own peace of mind, and his safety, I think I must go along to see this lot properly locked up till the Assizes. Fowey is nearest, of course, but it does not boast a jail large enough to hold so many, and with Wellington there, we must not chance one or another of them escaping. The castle prison at Launceston will hold them all easily. His Grace will be disappointed not to have the opportunity to speak with me, particularly to receive my views with regard to the necessity for a continuous military presence in Cornwall to deter crime; however, perhaps I can see him before he leaves the county.”

Astonished, Charley said, “But what about the ceremony, sir? You cannot possibly want to miss that!”

“It is because of the ceremony that I must do this, ma’am. Francis Oakes is a very good man in his way, but he is not a Cornishman, and I fear he will not be as alert as I shall be to the possibility of an outside attempt to free these men along the way. Particularly in view of the death of Michael Peryllys,” he added grimly.

Guiltily, she said, “I hope you do not think I had any choice about that, Mr. Gabriel. He had his pistol aimed right at Sir Antony.”

“My dear ma’am, the man was a murderer,” Gabriel replied fiercely, adding in a voice that trembled with suppressed passion, “I wanted to shoot him myself when I learned of our Annie’s death. His death tonight took place at God’s will, and no one else’s. Indeed, if you had not shot him, he would have murdered you as well as Sir Antony.”

“But the Seraphim Coffer! All your hard work!”

“I shall be sorry to miss the presentation,” he said with more control, “but it is only a ceremony, after all. Oh, and that reminds me, you must have the key to the coffer.” He fumbled at his waistcoat pocket, then pressed a medium-sized round-shafted key into her outstretched hand, saying, “I’ve carried it with me everywhere since yesterday when we placed the sacred vessels inside.”

“Good mercy, sir, I thought the coffer must be at the cathedral by now, under guard. I’m sure you said you intended to send it there on Wednesday.”

By the lantern’s light she saw his wistful smile. “I found I could not bear to part with it so soon, my lady. If you were a craftsman, you would understand how one seeks perfection with yet a bit more sanding, a bit more polish, a tuck in the satin here, an adjustment there. But I set two men to guard it. They will keep it safe at the dean’s house and carry it to the cathedral just before the ceremony. Do you recall your part?”

“I think so,” Charley said. “It is not complicated.”

Evidently still seeking perfection, he said, “Bishop Halsey will accept the cathedral keys from the deacons on the doorstep, and they will enter the cathedral. The Duke will speak, and you will unlock the coffer. Then, once you have done so, you must stand well back and allow him to open it with his own hands, to make his presentation.”

Tucking the key safely into her left glove, Charley said, “I’ll remember easily enough, although I did think you said before that I should open the coffer as well.”

“The bishop believes it will provide a more dramatic moment if the Duke does so,” Gabriel said. “He will doubtless explain that to you himself. I shall be sorry to miss it, as I said, but I do think it is important to get these villains safely locked away where they can do no more harm. You will find one of Oakes’s lads with the horses yonder,” he added, gesturing westward. Then, bidding them farewell, he went quickly back down the trail, holding his lantern out before him to light his way.

Antony still held Charley’s arm, and she said dryly, “Do you mean to hold onto me all the way to Fowey?”

“We have not yet determined that you are going to Fowey.”

“Well, I am. The only alternative is for you to take me back to Seacourt Head yourself and stay there all night. Since we are presently almost as close to Fowey, and need not get up so early if we are already in the village, it is more sensible to go now. Moreover, our clothing for the ceremony is there, because I told Hodson today that I would be riding to meet you, and had him take mine to the inn as well as yours. What purpose would we serve by going home?”

“I could have privacy to beat my wife,” he said musingly.

She chuckled. “If you want to do that, I expect the landlord will turn a deaf ear if he believes you are who you say you are despite those clothes. I daresay he will, too, for although you look a bit rough and seedy, the minute you begin talking in that drawling, condescending way, no one would take you for anything but a gentleman of consequence. But truly, Antony, do you think I should have stayed home?”