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Authors: Elizabeth Thornton

BOOK: Dangerous to Love
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“Hardly that. And no one hangs around to greet his neighbor. Everyone here has something to hide.”

She didn’t know why they were having this inane conversation when there were so many important things that needed to be said. And even if what they felt was too deep for words, at the very least, he could take her in his arms and kiss her.

“Julian, I—”

He spoke at the same moment. “Do you know, Serena, it never ceases to amaze me that you can come and go as you please.”

“What?”

“You seem to enjoy more freedoms than most ladies of my acquaintance. Yet, you are unmarried and of gentle birth. What on earth is your brother thinking of to allow you so much latitude?”

“For heaven’s sake, Julian, I am no green girl! I am five-and-twenty, well beyond needing a chaperon.” Her tone was sharp, not so much because of Julian’s censure, but because he had referred to her as “unmarried” without
qualifying that statement. “As for Jeremy, he has enough to do just keeping our heads above water. My father left a morass of debts! Do you know what my brother is doing at this moment?”

“Serena, I’m sorry I mentioned it, all right?”

She tried to check the emotion in her voice, but it was more than she could manage. She was overwrought, and the least thing would have set her off. “Jeremy is at Riverview, showing the estate to a prospective tenant. That will be the third tenant this year. If he could find a buyer for our house in Buckingham Street, he would gladly let it go. His own wife and children hardly ever see him. And you accuse him of neglecting a sister who has long since been her own mistress?”

When she paused to draw breath, he shrugged helplessly. “I had not known that things were so bad with you,” he said.

“Why should you? We Wards are very good at putting a face on things. No one knows, not really.”

“I’m sorry, Serena, truly I am.”

“Apology accepted.”

There was a silence, then Julian said in a lighter vein, “This isn’t exactly ideal weather to show an estate.”

She forced a smile. “I expect Jeremy is cursing the fog. Until it clears, he’ll be marooned at Riverview.”

“The same might be said of me. Until the fog clears, I shall be marooned in port.”

“We’ve found a safe house. No, really, we know what we are doing. You’ll be perfectly safe until we can get you away.”

The scrape of stone on stone brought their heads up. “All clear,” came Flynn’s whisper, and they picked their way up the stone stairs with Serena in the lead.

The house where Clive had rented rooms was indistinguishable from other houses they had used in the past.
Though shabby, it was fairly respectable, and only a stone’s throw from the docks. Flynn remained outside the building, acting as lookout, while Julian and Serena ascended to the second floor.

“Where does the money come from to rent these safe houses?” asked Julian.

He wasn’t talking for the sake of making conversation, leastways, Serena did not think so. He was cautious, and he had every right to be. “There’s a group in Oxford, Jacobite sympathizers, who cover Clive’s expenses. That’s all I know.”

When she saw that her answer had satisfied him, she knocked on the door with the secret code. It wasn’t very elaborate, only three pairs of short raps, but Julian’s eyebrows climbed all the same.

The door was opened almost at once, and Serena swept into a dark corridor, with Julian in her wake.

There was a moment of awkwardness when Clive seemed at a loss for words. Then he smiled and took Julian’s cloak from him. “I was almost sure it would be you, sir,” he said. “I don’t know why Serena and Flynn thought that all this secrecy was necessary.”

“That was my doing,” said Julian, “though I was not thinking of you when I swore Serena to secrecy. You’ll still help me, then?”

“What, after the service you rendered my friend? I count it an honor. Come this way, sir.”

He led them to a small parlor that boasted a table and two chairs, and an odd assortment of shabby upholstered pieces. Serena moved to one of the upright chairs.

“No, don’t sit down,” said Julian. “You’re not staying.” Then, addressing Clive, “Your friend? Ah yes, that would be Lord Alistair? Now that I think of it, you and Sir Jeremy were in France at the time. A sad business. I expect Lord Alistair met up with you there?”

Clive cleared his throat. “Yes. As a matter of fact, he did.”

“What do you mean I’m not staying?” asked Serena. “I thought I would take a glass of wine with you.” She indicated an opened bottle of wine and glasses on the table. “It’s almost a ritual. We always share a glass of wine before Flynn and I go on our way.”

“I think not. Your part in this is over. I, for one, shall be happier knowing that you are home safe in your bed. Would you excuse us, Clive? This will only take a moment.”

As each word fell from his lips, the pressure on Serena’s heart seemed to weigh the more heavily till she thought it would shatter. This was the moment she had been dreading. He was sending her away, and there was no saying when they would meet again.

In the corridor, he turned her to face him. She was so frozen with despair that it took a moment or two before his words registered.

“.  .  . stay there. Do you understand? I don’t want you trying to solve any mysteries. I don’t want you to put yourself at risk. Whatever happens, I want you to be safe. If it’s possible, I shall send for you. If not, then I want you to forget me. Promise me something?”

She gave a choked little sob and nodded.

“Don’t let Victoria slip away from you. Don’t lock her away. She is a part of you, Serena. Trust her. She knows what’s best for you. Together, you are irresistible—leastways, you are to me.”

Her eyes were burning. The tears were brimming over.

“Promise me!” he said fiercely.

“I .  .  . I promise.”

His kiss was whisper soft. She wanted to deepen it, she wanted to taste him, know him, take his impression so
that she would never forget him, never. When he released her, she clung to him.

“Softly, softly,” he said. “Don’t make this hard for both of us.”

He moved so quickly that before she could prevent it, she was on the other side of the door and it was Flynn’s arms that were holding her.

“Get her away from here,” said Julian, and he shut the door in her face.

“Oh Julian,” she said, staring at that closed door. “Oh Julian.”

   When Julian returned to the parlor, Clive had already poured out two glasses of wine. Though he had prepared himself for this, there was something in Julian that balked at going like a lamb to the slaughter. Telling himself that it was too late to turn back now, he accepted the proffered glass before seating himself in one of the upholstered chairs. If he was going to be drugged, he didn’t want to do himself an injury by falling on his face or hitting his head against a sharp corner of some piece of furniture.

Praying that everything was going according to plan and that the deuced fog would not throw Loukas and his “militia” into confusion, he took a careful sip of his wine.

“What happens now?” he asked.

“I have to get you away from here.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“No.” Clive bolted his wine in two long swallows, and poured himself another. “You don’t understand. I have to
get
you away from this house tonight.”

Julian imbibed slowly. “Indeed? I understood that this was a safe house.”

“It may be, then again, it may not be. There are too many people about for a prolonged stay. And in the fog,
there’s no saying when ships will be allowed out of the harbor.”

“You are going to take me to another house?”

Clive nodded.

Curious, thought Julian, the boy was getting edgier by the minute. “I suppose,” he said, “that your Oxford friends are directing things?”

Clive gave a start of surprise. “Oh, Serena told you, I suppose?”

“She did.”

“There are no Oxford friends.”

“No?”

“That was merely a blind. God, I can’t believe—” He broke off, and one hand pulled roughly at his cravat, as though it were choking him. “I’m not permitted to tell you anything.”

“Ah, so there are others involved?”

“I’m to take you to them. Oh, there’s nothing to fear. I won’t let you out of my sight. They mean you no harm. I’m sure they mean no harm. It’s just that .  .  . well, they are being cautious, especially at a time like this.”

Perhaps the wine wasn’t drugged. Julian took a long swallow. “You have relieved my mind,” he said.

“God, it’s hot in here.” Clive rose to his feet and staggered to the window. Opening it wide, he breathed deeply. A moment later he returned to his chair. “Don’t you feel the heat?” He loosened his cravat.

“Now that you mention it, I do. Tell me, what is it we are waiting for?”

“A carriage. They are going to send a carriage.”

“I see. And who are ’they?”

Upending his wine glass, Clive drank deeply. “This must be cheap wine,” he said. “It leaves a bitter aftertaste.” And he passed a hand over his eyes.

“How much of that wine did you consume before we arrived?” asked Julian.

“A glass or two. Why?” Clive looked at his wine glass, then looked at Julian. A look of horror crossed his face. “It’s the wine, isn’t it? You put something in it!”

“Not I,” said Julian.

Clive closed his eyes. “Then .  .  . No! They wouldn’t! They wouldn’t!” He lurched to his feet, took a few staggering paces, then sank to the floor unconscious.

   With every step that took her away from Julian, her feet became more leaden. A great void seemed to be opening up in front of her, and there was nothing she could do to halt the momentum that was propelling her into it.

“Don’t dawdle,” said Flynn. He held up the lantern and retraced his steps when he saw that Serena wasn’t keeping up with him. “We ’as a long way to go yet.”

Serena nodded, and forced herself to go on. A moment later, she halted.

“Serena! What is it now?”

“Flynn,” she said, keeping her voice to a whisper in that dark, unholy passage, “I want to go back.”

“Now what’s brought this on?”

She clutched at his arm. “It was something Julian said. He seems to think he may not come out of this alive.”

Flynn’s voice gentled. “We ain’t lost a ‘passenger’ yet. You knows that as well as I do.”

“I know but—”

“But what?”

For one moment more, she hesitated, then she seemed to come to a decision. “I want to go with him.”

“What?
Oh, no you don’t, my girl. I ’as my orders. I aim to take you ’ome and keep you out of trouble till this is all over.”

“I know you mean well, Flynn, and so does Julian, but
don’t you see, I can’t face the future without him.” Her words were tripping off her tongue in her haste to convince him. “I’ve lived through this before, and I simply can’t go through it again, wondering where he is, not knowing whether he is alive or dead. Even this past week has been sheer hell.

“And there’s nothing to keep me in England, is there? Mr. Hadley doesn’t love me. Letty and Clive don’t need me. I’m a maiden aunt, Flynn, and without Julian, that’s all I’ll ever be. Is that what you want me to be for the rest of my life?”

As though by rote, Flynn replied, “The major will send for you. ’e told me so. And even if what you say is true, you’ll never persuade ’im to take you with ’im.”

“Perhaps not, but I have to try. Do you know, he hasn’t even told me yet that he loves me. At the very least, I want to have those words from him. If I’m to die an old maid, I want to know that once in my life I was truly loved.”

“Serena! Wait!” Flynn cursed in frustration as he watched her retreating back. It wasn’t going to do her a bit of good. The major would never allow Serena to put her own life at risk. Now what was he supposed to do?

He had only two choices. He could either throw her over his shoulder and carry her off by force, or he could go with her.

Invoking the gods against all women in general, and Serena in particular, he started after her.

   “What the devil?” Constable Loukas peered through the window of the stationary hackney of which he was a passenger. “Confound it! This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

His two companions followed the path of his eyes.

Harry Loukas was the first to catch on. “You think it’s
Flynn and the girl? I don’t see how you can tell in this blasted fog. All I can see is a man and a woman.”

“You must be mistaken,” said Parker. “Their part is over. Why would they return now?”

“I don’t know,” replied Loukas testily. “Unless they are in it up to their necks. No, no! I don’t really believe that. As for recognizing them, I would know Flynn’s swagger anywhere.”

Harry whistled. “Now what do we do?”

“The only thing we can do,” said Loukas. “We must get them out of there before the real villains arrive on the scene.”

“I think,” said Parker, “it may be too late for that.”

The three gentlemen fell silent as the sound of carriage wheels rattling over cobblestones drew nearer. The carriage passed them and turned the corner before drawing to a stop.

“Now what?” asked Parker.

Loukas drew in a long breath. “We give them five minutes, ten at the most, then we go in after them.”

“And Flynn and the girl?”

“Like Julian, they will simply have to take their chances.”

   While Flynn stood watch, Serena ran up the stairs to the rooms Clive had rented. In her agitation, she forgot about the secret code she had invented, and rapped smartly on the door. It was a door on the landing above that opened. The man who descended the stairs, regarding her with open suspicion, was dressed in the coarse garments of a dock worker.

“I .  .  . I misplaced my key,” she told him, and she pounded on the door as fear rose in her. “Clive!” she cried out. “Clive! Open the door, do you hear me? It’s Serena.”

She heard a curse from behind the door. The neighbor
took a step toward her just as the key turned in the lock. Throwing herself over the threshold, she slammed the door behind her.

There was no candle in the corridor to see by. Brushing past her brother, she made for the parlor. “There’s been a change of plan,” she said. “By the way, I don’t like the look of your neighbor. He seemed .  .  . out of place, suspicious—”

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