Love and Let Spy (Lord and Lady Spy) (22 page)

“Griffyn,” she said again.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

“I understand,” she said, though she didn’t at all at the moment. “Do you understand someone is coming this way?”

He blinked at her, and she shoved him back, away from her. Now that she had space, she could listen again. She went absolutely still, concentrating as hard as she could…

Her body went on alert, and she cut her gaze to Griffyn again. He crouched a few feet away, raking his hands through his hair. It was not Griffyn who had alerted her.

Someone was entering the stable.

Jane flattened her back against the wall of the stall and forced her heart to slow its pounding rhythm. She needed all her senses. Griffyn was quiet, but she didn’t know how long that would last. Should she try to intercept the intruder before Griffyn made their presence known or trust that he would remain quiet long enough for her to see who it was and what he wanted?

The stable door creaked, and several horses shifted and stamped their hooves. Jane had to strain to hear again, but the sound of the horses had captured Dominic’s attention. He looked up, his eyes clear and focused. Thank God. He was back. She met his gaze in the semidarkness and put a finger to her lips. He nodded, rose, and joined her against the wall, keeping to the shadows. They were at the end of the row of stalls, but she could hear the horses near the entrance moving about uneasily.

“Who is it?” Griffyn asked, his mouth close to her ear.

She flicked her gaze at him. Interesting that he should not assume it was one of the grooms. “You don’t think it’s your thief?”

He shook his head. “The horses don’t know him.”

That was it. The horses’ restlessness had made her suspicious as well. She did not know who would be lurking about, but she intended to discover the man’s identity. She held up a hand, directing Griffyn to stay where he was. He gave her an incredulous look before she sidled toward the stall door.

She hadn’t gone far before he pulled her back. “This is my stable. Stay here,” he hissed in her ear.

This was not the time for arguments or the time to point out that she did not take orders from him. He peered out of the stall doorway. They had left it open enough to squeeze out of, and she considered allowing him to go and get himself killed. But that would have violated all sorts of oaths pertaining to protecting King and Country with her life. After all, a country’s innocent people comprised it. With a sigh, she joined him, but not before she could stop him from slipping out of the stall. Any protest she might have made caught in her throat when the sound of a pistol boomed through the building.

Instinct told her to drop to her belly and lie flat. Training told her to run after the intruder. Something else—something she did not want to think too deeply about—told her to save Griffyn. She burst into the stable aisle, not taking any care to conceal herself. They were discovered now, and in a moment the stable would swarm with grooms, if not the entire estate staff. The sound of a pistol on a silent night carried a long, long way.

As she scrambled out of the stall, she noticed two things. First of all, Griffyn was on his knees. Secondly, the horses were calling and screaming with fear. She ran to Griffyn, but he pointed toward the exit. “There!”

She saw the retreating figure and gave chase. Griffyn followed her, and the sick feeling in her stomach subsided. This was why she could not fall in love with him. One day there might come a time when she had to choose again between love and duty. What would she choose?

She skidded onto the drive and then darted left, colliding with Griffyn and knocking him down. It saved them both from another bullet. “Bastard had another gun,” she said to herself, reaching into her boot and unclasping the small pistol she had holstered there. Griffyn gave chase to the attacker, but she paused a moment to prime the pistol. She cocked the hammer, aimed—and bollocks! Griffyn was in her line of sight! And now the distance was too great to ensure her aim. Still holding the pistol, she broke into a run and quickly closed the distance, passing Griffyn, pausing and aiming the pistol. She stopped breathing, stopped her hands shaking, stopped every thought racing through her mind. With deadly accuracy, she fired, flinching back from the recoil.

She shook her head, clearing it, then allowed her knees to give way when she saw the attacker was down.

***

It seemed an eternity before Dominic reached Jane. She was down, and he grabbed her, checking her for blood. “Where are you wounded?” He felt wetness on his hand and pulled it away from her belly. His gaze met hers.

“My stitches came out,” she said, her breathing ragged. “The devil, but it hurts! Help me up.”

He gave her a long look. “Maybe you should sit here a moment.” He heard the sounds of people coming. He’d have more servants than he knew what to do with in a matter of moments. One could carry her into the house and fetch the local doctor. But the look in her eye wiped that thought away. She was not going to be reasonable.

“Either help me up or move out of my way,” she said, struggling to rise. He grabbed her elbow and assisted her. She pulled away and marched to the body. The man lay motionless on the grass. She stared at him a long moment, then bent and pushed his coat aside. A red stain in the center marked where a small pistol ball had entered. Dominic had imagined there would be more blood, more gore. But the pistol she’d used was small, and so was the ball. But small or not, she was deadly accurate. She’d hit him straight through the heart. He was probably dead before he hit the ground.

“So my thief isn’t one of the grooms.”

She turned to look at the stable hands running toward them. “This isn’t your thief,” she said before they were both surrounded and swept into the maelstrom of shock and confusion.

Several hours later, near dawn, Dominic was finally able to go to his bed. He’d answered every question, told his side of the story countless times. The sheriff had been summoned. The local magistrate had been summoned. The doctor had come. He hadn’t been able to save the dead man, but he’d stitched Jane again—or so Dominic assumed. Because of her injury, she’d escaped most of the questioning. Her aunt had put her to bed, but as Dominic climbed the stairs to his bedchamber, he doubted she would stay there for long. In about an hour, the house would settle down. In about an hour, he could wash, shave, and change his clothing.

And so it was, when she stepped into the stable—presumably intent upon stealing one of his horses—he was waiting for her. She gave a small jump of fright, and he was sorry for that. He could see by her wince the jump had pained her, though surely her pride injured her more than her knife wound. “Going somewhere, Miss Bonde?”

“For a ride, Mr. Griffyn. Surely you would not begrudge me that small indulgence after the night’s excitement.” She was dressed in a tight-fitting light blue riding habit, her golden hair tucked neatly under an ostrich-plumed shako hat. She looked quite fashionable and quite desirable with her impressive figure displayed to advantage. It was difficult to believe he had kissed her last night, touched her. Matters had gone too far. He’d been forced to explain his rules to her—rules meant more for temporary encounters with willing barmaids than a lady, than this women he was beginning to care for.

From now on, he would not allow himself to touch her, and he would protect her at any cost. Most especially, he would protect her from himself.

“I would not, no,” he said, “but I cannot allow you to return to London.”

“I’m not—”

He raised a brow.

“Very well. I have to go. It’s urgent.”

He took a deep breath. “I know you cannot trust me after…what I did last night. But I give you my word, it will not happen again. You are in no danger here, with me. You are quite safe as long as you do not touch me again.”

She blinked at him, her blue eyes strangely clear despite the fact that she had probably not slept. “Shall we walk, Mr. Griffyn?” she asked. “I fear we might be overheard here, and I have something to tell you.”

“You are injured.”

But she was already walking toward the door. He followed, and they stepped out into a day that seemed intent on being neither sunny nor rainy. Clouds threatened to open up with rain, but the sun broke through in patches. He walked beside her, keeping a small distance between them. She turned to look back at the stables, and then obviously liking what she saw, said, “I am not leaving because of what happened between us last night.” She looked at him, her gaze direct. “I liked it. Not the part where you berated me, but the other. I liked it far more than I ought.”

“Miss Bonde—”

“Jane. You don’t scare me, Dominic. Nothing you could do will ever scare me. Even my own response to you doesn’t scare me.” She looked down as though struggling to be honest. “Well, it doesn’t scare me much.”

“You must allow me to apologize for speaking to you that way.”

“I wish you had told me sooner. One needs to know one’s parameters. You understand why I am confused. You have a policy that forbids kissing, yet you have kissed me on more than one occasion.”

“It will not happen again.”

“Yes, it will, and I won’t follow your rules either. You can’t have me on those terms, Dominic. We decide on mutual terms or none at all.”

Fury rose in him at her tone. What the hell did she know about terms? Who was she to tell him what he would and would not allow?

“I can see you do not want to discuss it. Your look is as black as those thunderclouds.” She pointed to the distant clouds. “But I have been through a few traumas myself. One thing I know is that talking about what happened does help. Keeping it inside only makes it seem that much bigger, and makes one feel that much more alone.”

He rounded on her, and she stepped back. She was scared now, and she should be. He had rarely been this angry. “I am alone, Miss Bonde. You cannot possibly imagine the things I have endured.”

“Can’t I? I’m not so innocent or gently bred, Dominic. I have traveled the world. I have seen all manner of atrocities, and it does not take much imagination for me to surmise what happened to you.”

They were standing closer than he thought, and she reached out a hand and placed it on his newly shaved jaw. He flinched back immediately, shocked at her touch, and even more shocked that she would willingly consent to touch him. If she really had any idea how sullied he was, she would never touch him.

Then why did he look at her and think she had some inkling? And if that was so, how could she bear to stand beside him?

“I am here,” she went on, “if you ever want someone to talk to. I know our betrothal is not in earnest, but I would like to be your friend.” She leaned forward, and again he was shocked, because he could see she intended to kiss him. He made to move away, but she put her hand, feather light, on his cheek again. “It is not that sort of kiss,” she said, and brushed her lips across his cheek. Indeed, he did not think a woman other than his mother had ever kissed him so sweetly, so innocently. He did not know how to feel. Part of him wanted her to kiss him again. Part of him wanted to flee.

He stood his ground.

“As I said, I am not leaving because of you.”

Ridiculous woman. “You cannot leave at all. You shot the thief. The magistrate is undoubtedly on his way. He will have questions.”

“I cannot afford to wait to answer them. He will not believe I shot the man anyway. He will think you did so, and I am claiming to have done it to save you from a charge of murder, though we have the man’s pistol and the evidence that he shot first. Not to mention he was no thief.”

Dominic shook his head. He was not certain he was following. He had assumed the thief would be one of his own men, but he was not shocked it was an outsider. “If he was not the thief, who was he?”

“One of the Maîtriser group. His name is Tueur.”

Dominic stared at her. “You knew that man?”

“He and I are—were—old rivals. He’s an assassin. We were both extremely fortunate to escape. He is very good at what he does, or rather, did.”

“You are not sorry at all that you shot him?” The thought struck Dominic with all the weight of a wheelbarrow of bricks. He had thought she would feel guilt and repentance. He had thought she would leave not only because she feared him, but because she could not stay where she had killed a man. But, of course, she’d killed men before. Exactly how many? Ten? A dozen? Two dozen?

She’d spoken of traumas…

“Sorry? I am glad. If he had lived, we would all be in grave danger right now. As it is, we do not have much time.”

“Foncé knows you are here.”

She nodded. “He is not certain. He sent his assassin to kill me if he found me. If he knew without a doubt, he would have sent enough men to make certain I died. He might have killed everyone here, just because he could.”

“But you killed his man. He doesn’t know now.”

“But when Tueur doesn’t return, Foncé will suspect. I have to find him before that. You must stay behind to protect your mother and my aunt. Better yet, move them to another of Edgeberry’s estates.”

“The devil I will. I’m going with you. I can better protect them by destroying the threat.”

“You are staying here.” She began to march back to the stables. Apparently she considered their conversation at an end. He was of a different opinion.

“I am going with you.”