A Heartless Design (31 page)

“Am I right in thinking that Miss Bering has become a rather important person in your eyes?”

“She’s not just a person. She’s a vital asset. To the country, that is.”

“And to you,” Forester pushed.

“Yes.” Thorne made a frustrated sound. “But I’m not exaggerating when I say she’s vital to the war. We have to find her.”

“When you say we…”

“I mean the Zodiac.”

“I believe you,” Forester said simply. “Shall we go tell Neville?”

“Yes. He has to know what’s happening.”

Neville was easily found, still holed up in his tiny offices. When the two men entered, they found him speaking to a young woman who was recording every word, her hand flying over the notebook in her lap as she wrote in odd looping letters.

Neville stopped talking when he saw them both. “That will do, Miss Chattan. You may transcribe today’s work in your office, and send it out to the correct parties tomorrow morning.”

“Very well, sir,” she said, gathering up her materials into a tidy pile, capping her ink bottle and stowing the pen. Blue ink stains spotted the fingers of her right hand, and several more blue spots decorated her dress. She did not so much as glance at Thorne or Forester as she left the room.

Thorne cleared his throat. “We’ve got news. And trouble.”

Neville leaned forward, interested. “Go on.”

Thorne explained the most recent developments in his mission, including how valuable Cordelia really was.

Neville didn’t say a word until the end of Sebastien’s explanation. Then he stood up slowly, considering. “So the woman herself is what the enemy needs?”

“Yes. And they have her. We have to get her back.”

“Any ideas?”

“Only one. Remember Hartley’s shipyard? He mentioned that there was a large quantity of metal there, which is exactly what is needed to build the
Andraste
. It must be connected to Hayden. Doesn’t it make sense to take the designer of the ship to where you intend to build it?”

“Possibly,” Neville said, his eyes distant. He was obviously thinking rapidly. “Though they might have other ideas for her.”

“Even if she’s not there, we might discover something to go on.”

“That’s true.” Neville nodded once. “We need to get you to the shipyard as soon as possible. Hartley knows where it is. I’ll put someone to work on locating him immediately. We’ll annex him from his duties and promote him to captain for a little while. With a small, fast ship, he can sail you there himself.”

“But he could be anywhere!”

Neville walked quickly to the door. Opening it, he called, “Chattan, are you still here?”

After a moment, the ink-stained woman appeared in the doorway. “Yes, sir?”

“I need to find a man by the name of Logan Hartley. He’s an ensign with the Royal Navy. Sails with the
Providence
out of Portsmouth. Find out where he is and issue an invitation, would you?”

The woman nodded coolly. “At once, sir.”

Neville closed the door again. “Good.” He turned back to the spies. “Chattan will find him and send him to you. In the meantime, you gentlemen prepare yourselves for a channel crossing. Trust no one. It will be up to you alone to find the lady in question.”

Cordelia didn’t know where they
were going, only that they’d been on the water for hours. The crew had locked her in a tiny cabin, and no amount of yelling or begging resulted in so much as a reprimand. Her stomach was tight with hunger. After ensuring that Cordelia could not possibly escape the cabin, even Hayden disappeared.

She still wore her evening dress, the lightweight fabric and short sleeves unable to compete with the chilly sea air that permeated the ship. She sat on the edge of the bunk, huddled in a rough wool blanket that was probably left over rather than provided for her. Her brain was too numb to deal with the situation at hand. All she knew for certain was that with every passing moment she was being taken further from her home, from her family, and from her lover.

She only wanted to go back. If someone opened the door that instant and demanded the designs, she would tell them everything. What did it matter to her? She only wanted Sebastien. But at the thought of him, she drew in a steadying breath. He would never give over information. In fact, he’d begged her to give the information to him so he could keep it safe. Of course, once he realized that the
Andraste
designs also resided in her head, it wasn’t just a matter of keeping the papers safe. But he offered to keep her safe too. He said he’d marry her if necessary.

And she had refused. All because of her belief that she was better off alone.

Or was it? She admitted now that Sebastien’s proposal was unwanted because it was only an offer of protection, not unlike Mr Jay’s. She didn’t want protection from Sebastien Thorne. She wanted something much more.

But by holding out for that intangible
more
, she allowed another danger in. And now she was paying for it.

As hours passed, she fell asleep, despite her intention to stay vigilant. A subtle change in the ship’s motion woke her. The constant rolling had ceased, and the sound of water rushing past the hull had quieted. Unfortunately, this cabin had no porthole, so she couldn’t peek out and see the surroundings.

After a time, the ship must have dropped anchor. Footsteps preceded the sound of the key in the lock, and Cordelia stood up, tense with anticipation. Only Hayden appeared in the doorway. He looked her over, his expression cold. “We’re leaving the ship.”

“Where are we?” she asked.

“You’ll see. Come on.” He didn’t wait for her to obey. He leaned forward to grab her and haul her out of the tiny cabin. “Move.”

“I can walk,” she protested.

“Then do so, Miss Bering.” He released her arm and made a mocking bow. Cordelia hurried out of the door and down the short passage to the deck. Only one sailor was visible, but she doubted that she could escape anyway. Not to mention that she had no idea where to go even if she got free of her captors.

It was morning, but heavy clouds obscured the sun. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that the ship had docked along a river, and the pier led to a large, low building right along the shore. From the assorted materials and the skeleton of a structure rising in a dry dock, it was obvious what the place was. A shipyard.

Hayden herded her down the gangplank. Cordelia knew better than to struggle. Hayden didn’t direct her to the building itself. Instead, he led her to the main yard, where the half-finished ship stood. The wooden hull was nearly complete, though the ship looked abandoned. Work on it had stalled, and she knew precisely why. Metal plates were stacked nearby. This was Hayden’s version of the
Andraste
. He couldn’t finish it.

She looked around curiously. “Where is everyone? Who’s working on this?”

“They were told not to come today. I did not want more eyes on you than necessary.”

“Are you sure that’s the reason? It looks to me as if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

He nudged her. “We’re going to build it. Just as soon as you give us the final elements.”

“I cannot do that.”

“You can,” he said. “And the longer you wait, the more it will cost you.”

“If you have learned anything about me over the course of your false friendship, you should know that I won’t help you. My father wouldn’t, and neither will I.”

“Your father.” Hayden only shook his head. “You keep going on about your father.  As if it was his stuff we need.”

“Of course it is,” she said, nervousness sparking in her heart.

“And what of his elusive co-conspirator?”

“Meaning?”

He grinned at her. “You are rather charming when you’re coy, Miss Bering. I refer to Lear, of course.”

“Then why didn’t you kidnap him?”

“Because no one can find him,” Hayden said. “But I’m not quite the fool I’ve been pretending to be. I researched all of the society’s papers, and corresponded with nearly everyone who has worked with Lear in the past five years. So I know that his work is much closer to the innovations of the
Andraste
than anything your father completed.”

“So?” she asked.

“I also know that Lear’s mail ends up at your home, and the only person who refused to talk to me is also a close personal friend of yours, Mr William Jay. He wouldn’t say a word. At least, he wouldn’t at first,” Hayden added. His tone made Cordelia shake.

“What do you mean?” Mr Jay would never have knowingly revealed Cordelia’s secret…unless he resented her refusal when he offered marriage.

“How do you think we knew to take you from that party, Miss Bering? It was Jay who told us exactly where you’d be.”

“He would never!”

“Not a strong man, that one,” Hayden said, as if to himself. Then he went on, “But never mind that. I’ve brought you here for business. Survey the ship and the shipyard at your leisure.”

“My leisure? Or yours?” she asked sharply.

“Well, if you get too leisurely, I will encourage you to hurry along. Tell me what materials or items this yard lacks in order to complete the ship.”

“I’ll never do that,” she said. She didn’t bother to hide her disgust.    

Hayden put a hand on her arm and moved so he was standing in front of her. “Miss Bering, I really do admire your devotion and uprightness and all that.” It was the first time he ever sounded sincere, and it troubled her. “But you would be smarter to forget all that for a little while. If you tell me what I need to know, I will send you back home immediately. I promise.”

“Your promise is worth precisely nothing,” she said. “The last time you promised me something, you had a knife to my throat.”

“I don’t actually like killing women,” Hayden said. “But my employer has no such compunction. You don’t want to meet him.” 

She looked in his eyes and believed him. Who could scare a man like Hayden? He didn’t seem to have a conscience, yet he was warning her about this man. But then, she thought, it could just be another ploy. Cordelia looked away. “I will not help my enemy.”

He sighed. “Well, I guessed you’d say that. Though I rather hoped you wouldn’t.” His old expression returned. Rather than spend more effort enticing her into compliance, he forced her toward a waiting carriage. The vehicle was old and musty-smelling, and the windows were all covered with heavy leather flaps. She did not want to get in. But when she struggled, he bound her hands and gagged her.

In short order, Hayden and Cordelia were driving on a bumpy road toward an unknown place. All she knew for certain was that she would not find any friends on the way, and once she got to the final destination, she might never leave it again.

“Just think,” Hayden was saying. “I was a few days away from proposing to you when all this began. Just think if I had, and you said yes. Everything would have been so much simpler.”

Cordelia was glad the gag prevented her from answering. Her response would not have been worthy of a lady.

Thorne’s mood turned blacker as
days passed. He snapped at everyone, he disappeared for hours at a time, and he never spoke a word of what bothered him. He was used to hiding his thoughts, but he’d never had to endure something like this; worrying over whether Cordelia was even still alive was torture. Afraid he’d lose his composure completely, he hid as much as possible.

Otherwise, the townhouse of the Thorne family was as lively as ever, the rooms filled with laugher and feminine chatter, which drove Sebastien nearly mad as he waited—simply waited—for news from the Zodiac. His hands were tied. He could do nothing but hope that Hartley could be located. Only then could he advance. Hartley’s fortuitous sighting of the shipyard might be the only thing that would lead them to Cordelia.

His family, of course, would not be put off forever. Adele was the first to brave his mood. It was afternoon, three days after Cordelia had gone. He sat in his study, doing nothing but staring at a wall.

“I suppose you will not tell me what is going on,” his sister said, entering on silent, slippered feet. He looked over at her, seeing the worry on her young face. She came closer. “It’s not about Lady Mary, is it? Mama may have been rather overbearing on that issue. She wouldn’t be a good match for you. I thought her a bit dull, really.”

“Lady Mary?” Sebastien asked distractedly. “No.”

“Then what is it?” Adele asked. “Are we penniless again? Do I need to marry for wealth? I don’t mind if it comes to that, as long as he’s not too ugly. Or I can become a governess.”

He frowned at her. “You’ll do no such thing. Our finances are more robust than they have been in a decade.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I’d make a miserable governess. So you’re not gambling again?”

He shook his head. “I got some bad news a few days ago. That’s all.”

“Extremely bad news, I should guess.”

“I am waiting for more details,” he explained. “I shall be insufferable until I hear something. I’m sorry.”

“I think it’s dreadful to wait alone.” Adele took his arm. “Will you not come and sit with me and Mama? There are no guests at the moment. It’s quite safe.”

He allowed his sister to lead him out of the room. “I’m not fit for human company.”

“We’re not company. We’re family. Come along.”

He came along, at a loss to do anything else. In the drawing room, his mother sat on a long couch, embroidery on her lap. She put it aside when he entered.

“Dear boy, I thought you were going to brood forever.”

“I’m not brooding.”

“Of course you are, dear. Don’t contradict an elder.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“That’s better.” She smiled. “Shall I ring for tea?” She did so without waiting for an answer.

Sebastien sat down opposite her, apologizing for his mood.

She accepted the apology graciously. “I may have put a bit too much on your mind.”

“Just stop hurling potential wives in my path,” he begged.

“Lady Mary was seen with the Viscount Grenville yesterday in Rotten Row,” his mother noted.

“I wish them joy,” he said, indifferent to the news.

She noted his disinterest and tried another tack. “And when did you last see Miss Bering? After our family party?”