A Heartless Design (20 page)

A few seconds later, she returned to Thorne. “Your opinion?” she asked, as if she wanted to know his thoughts on her dress.

“It sounds like Hayden wasn’t discouraged completely. Either he wants to frighten you…though you don’t seem easily frightened,” he added. “Or he’s following you for a more practical reason.”

“Such as?”

“He thinks you’ll meet someone. Or go somewhere in particular.”

“He’ll be disappointed then,” Cordelia said.

A separation, and then the rejoining. Thorne reached for her hand and held it rather tighter than the dance dictated. “What do you mean?”

“I burned all my father’s papers.”

His eyes flashed once, but then a sympathetic expression settled on his face. “Was it painful for you?”

“Yes,” she said. “But I know it had to be done. I think Hayden had someone watching my house. I hope he’ll realize there’s nothing left to find.”

“Good. That leaves only Lear’s work, and what lies in the Atheneum.”

She glanced over at him. “You know about the Atheneum?”

“You’d be shocked at the things I know. But I wonder—” The dance concluded before he could continue his question. People would notice if he spent too much time with any particular woman tonight. Trying to conceal his irritation, he dutifully walked her back toward her aunt. But Cordelia told him that she wanted to sit by a window, and he changed direction to secure her a seat.  

“We’re not done yet,” he warned. “Don’t think to run away before we talk again.”

“You need not chase me,” she said.

He leaned over and murmured, “I would chase you even if you knew nothing, Miss Bering.” He left her then, and Cordelia waited until her heart returned to its normal pace.

Shortly after that, Adele came up to her. “May we talk, Miss Bering?” she asked, rather shyly.

“Of course.” Cordelia smiled at the girl. “To be honest, I expected to be a wallflower.”

Adele laughed. “You? Mama says you never lack for admirers, even if you refuse to marry them.”

Cordelia raised an eyebrow, and the girl blushed. “Oh, I think I should not have said that.”

“It’s not a secret. But tell me, what do you think of the party tonight?”

“Mama always puts on excellent affairs,” Adele said. “When I was a child, I used to peek at the guests arriving from the top of the stairs. I’m so happy to be allowed to attend properly this time. But tonight, you know, it’s all for my brother’s benefit.”

“Is that so?”

“She wants him to marry. Most of the ladies here have just been invited because they are eligible. But they bore him to death. They always do. Even that French emigree from last Season…do you remember her? Covered in diamonds half the time. She set her cap at him. But he couldn’t be bothered to see her after a few weeks.”

“Maybe the language barrier was a problem.” Many of the aristocratic refugees from the Terror had never really bothered to learn English.

“Oh, it wouldn’t have been. Sebastien speaks French like he was born there. Good at Italian too. I’m terrible at languages. Drove my French tutor to tears. Anyway, the way he cast that lady off upset Mama quite a bit.”

Cordelia felt an odd little pang. But she put on a brave face. “It is very natural for your mother to care about the family line.”

“Pooh. She does, but Sebastien doesn’t care in the least. I think that’s why he runs away with his old army cronies all the time. He says he’s going to Cheshire, but I know he’s not there. He despises being roped into things.”

“But he’s here tonight.”

“Well, Mama can be insistent.” Adele looked speculatively at Cordelia. “He certainly rushed over to greet you.”

“For which I was grateful, seeing as he is almost the only one I know here.”  

At the end of evening, the coaches were brought around for all the guests. Thorne appeared by Cordelia’s side to let her know that it was time.

“I’ll escort you both to the carriage,” he offered.

Cordelia nodded, but Leona, who was standing by, waved one hand in a distracted fashion. “I must ask Lady Thorne a question. I shall be along in a moment.”

So the couple moved slowly down the wide stairs to the foyer. Cordelia enjoyed Sebastien’s proximity, and she recognized that this was an opportunity to speak more or less privately.

“You want more,” she began, speaking softly.

He looked at her, interest in his eyes.

“More information,” she clarified.

“Oh. Yes.” He blinked. “More than you can tell me in these few minutes. I’ll have to find a way…”

“How did you know about the Atheneum?”

“I broke into the building a few nights ago.”

At this point, Cordelia didn’t even think to be surprised. “You’re not going to break into my house, are you?”

“Would you like me to?”

She breathed in. “One might consider that an improper question.”

“One might be correct,” he said, his expression at odds with the teasing voice. “But it is an honest one.”

“There is nothing honest about burglary,” she said, deliberately misinterpreting his words.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too clever for your own good?”

“Yes,” she said. “Though I didn’t believe it until lately.”

“Would you believe me if I said that I think you’re still in danger, despite getting rid of the papers?”

“I know that, but I don’t know how else to convince Hayden—or anyone—that there is nothing of interest left to get.”

“You could send your pursuers to Lear,” he suggested.

Cordelia closed her eyes. This was precisely the thing she could not do. Oh, why had she gone down this path?

He saw her expression, and leaned in closer. “Cordelia? What’s wrong?”

“How could I save myself from danger by putting someone else in that same peril?”

“That’s a noble thought, but not everyone is equal in their abilities. You…forgive me…do not have the ability to counter the threats against you. Why the
hell
can you not trust another who can deal with it?” 

She ignored his coarse language. His vehemence was strangely touching. “You mean I should trust Lear?”

“You should trust me. You have my word that I’ll keep you safe.”

Cordelia considered the man in front of her, and finally believed that he might really be the one person she could rely on. “Very well.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You will trust me?”

“I will give you a chance. Do you still want to meet Lear?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, the eagerness clear in his voice.

“Then give me an address where there can be a private meeting.”

“My club is…”

“Completely private,” she said, heat rising in her cheeks as she considered her private plan.

“Very well. If that’s the condition, I’ll meet it.” He paused for a moment, then saw that Leona was advancing toward them. And soon they would reach the carriage. He decided quickly. “I maintain a separate residence near St James,” he said. He gave her the exact address. “There are no servants there, and no one to notice anything. You cannot mention this place to anyone other than Lear himself. It is a secret.”

“Believe me, I won’t breathe a word. Will eleven o’ clock tomorrow night be suitable?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Thorne watched even after the carriage left, wondering how she had gotten under his skin.

“I have made no promises,” he muttered aloud. He said the words to reassure himself that he hadn’t come to any understanding with Cordelia, but immediately realized he was lying. He
had
made promises. He promised his family he would behave as a proper son should. He promised the Zodiac he would let nothing get in the way of his work. And he promised Cordelia he would protect her from harm. What was he to do when keeping one promise meant breaking another? 

He had all but agreed to seduce Cordelia in order to get her to give him the plans. Yet his promise to her hadn’t been a lie. It hadn’t been part of the seduction. And if he allowed himself to care for Cordelia, would that get in the way of his duty to his family? He couldn’t imagine marrying another woman while he had Cordelia.

But you don’t have her
, a cold voice reminded him. Sebastien realized then just how much he wanted her. And it had nothing to do with what she knew. He stifled the thoughts. This was no time to become obsessed with a woman.

The next day, Cordelia worked
feverishly to make a new version of the plans for the
Andraste
’s steering drive and propeller screw. The drafting took hours, and she had to ensure that every aspect
looked
correct, which required immense concentration. She was not at home to anyone, no matter who they were. Ivy brought in a few cards, but Cordelia glanced at them only indifferently. “I must keep working,” was all she said.

At the end of the afternoon, she looked at the papers spread on the drafting table with a critical eye. The drive was a complex system, and it would surely confuse anyone not familiar with steam technology. But she was satisfied that the most important aspect of the plans was invisible. A person would have to virtually build the whole ship engine before he would discover the unpleasant truth—the drive itself was unworkable.

She sprinkled a bit of pounce over the paper to fix up any remaining ink spots. As she carefully dusted off the papers and rolled them up, she thought of what she intended to do…and of the potential consequences.

“If he proves trustworthy, I will have a chance to explain later, and if he is not, I will have averted a catastrophe,” she said to herself, knowing that she was rationalizing. She had her own suspicions about Thorne’s interest in the designs. But until she could verify them, she had to tread carefully.

But what of Lear? Cordelia knew that it would not be enough to simply give the plans to Thorne. She had to convince him that he no longer needed Lear. She thought she could do that, although her heartbeat fluttered wildly when she considered how she intended to distract him. “It will work,” she said, trying to convince herself. “It will work.”

Bond was the only person she took into her confidence. Though she had known the young lady only a relatively short time, Bond had already proven her intelligence and loyalty.

When Bond heard Cordelia’s idea, she closed her eyes. “Oh, ma’am,” she said, her accent thickening. “No, no, no. You mustn’t. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I am not worried for myself, Bond. There is a larger issue at stake.”

“But ma’am, if he should…betray you…”

Cordelia swallowed, knowing exactly what Bond feared. But she had a counterargument. “He won’t, Bond. You see, I know something about him that he can’t afford to be aired publicly.” 

“It’s not the same for a man, my lady.”

“That’s not what I meant, Bond,” Cordelia said, with a nervous laugh. “I know a sort of secret about him. One that has nothing to do with me, or any relationship we might have. It will be enough to keep me safe.”

“As you wish,” Bond said, capitulating. “I’ll do what needs to be done.”

What needed to be done first was preparing for the evening. Bond took out the golden yellow gown, the one that Cordelia wore the first night she met Thorne.

“Oh, but he’s seen that one.”

“And he liked what he saw,” Bond argued. “Trust me. You must wear this.”

Cordelia put on the gown, wondering inwardly if it looked appropriate for a scandal, which was certainly what she risked tonight. Bond said nothing as she put a velvety, voluminous cloak over Cordelia’s shoulders. The darker shade should render her almost invisible to casual onlookers once she put the hood up.

Cordelia suspected that Hayden might still be watching her, even after she burned the papers. So Bond got her out of the house through the back, and convinced a carriage to stop at the entrance to the mews behind the property.

Cordelia, her face hidden, got in the vehicle. The papers were in a leather case beside her. Bond looked to see that she had everything, and said, “Come back through the study door. I’ll be awake. You have the key?”

“I do.” Cordelia touched the key, tied to a ribbon around her neck. “Listen for my return. It may be in a few hours, or it may be…longer.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bond bobbed in comprehension, if not approval. “And if Mrs Wharton, or anyone else enquire as to where you are…”

“You will not recall.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

* * * *

As the hour hand crawled toward eleven, Thorne waited in the small parlor of the private house, wondering if Lear would appear. The place was ominously quiet. Once again, he worried that this was all some deliberate trap. Cordelia couldn’t hide her nervousness when she told him of Lear’s sudden reversal. He probably should have told Forester or Neville that the man would be surfacing. But it was too late now.

He listened as the sound of a carriage wheeled up on the street near the house. It slowed and then stopped. Light footsteps echoed on the stones of the path up to the door. And then came a hesitant knock.

Calming himself, Thorne stood and walked quickly to the door. As he pulled it open, he was startled at the image before him. No gentleman, but a woman dressed in a floor-length cape, the hood pulled up over her head and face. She tipped her head up, and green eyes gazed up at him.

“May I come in?” Cordelia asked.

Speechless, he stood aside to allow her to enter. He shut the door and whirled to face her. “Cordelia! What the hell are you doing here?”

“I have the papers you want.” She held out the case.

He took it, but laid it aside on a table without even looking inside. “Why you? Where is Lear?”

“I wanted to be sure that they were delivered into your hands. You’ll take care of them, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course. Cordelia, you can’t
be
here. You can’t be alone with me.”

She smiled, looking suddenly seductive. “I have been before, and nothing happened.” She unbuttoned the cloak, revealing the wonderful golden dress that she’d worn the first time her saw her. He suddenly had trouble breathing. And thinking.

“I still have to speak to Lear,” he said, trying to stay on task.

Cordelia took a step closer, putting herself within arm’s reach. “You have the designs. What more do you want?”