The Pursuit (6 page)

Wishing she didn’t even have to turn her back to the room in order to retrieve the coat, she went for the garment and slipped into it the moment it was in her hands. She left the room without further word.

Edward looked down at Denley, his mind running in many directions. He simply couldn’t leave these two on their own; it went against every part of him. But with whom was he aligning himself? And how would he explain to his family if he landed himself in trouble with the law because his actions might be seen as aiding a criminal?

Playing the part of a young gentleman, when you were, in fact, a young gentlewoman, was something that took constant work, Osborne decided. Her guard had been down since arriving in Lisbon, and she knew she could not afford to relax. It was too easy to make mistakes.

Some would call her paranoid, but then they might not understand what was at stake. She didn’t expect others to agree with her. She was doing what she felt she had to do. Her mind swept into the past for a moment, a past filled with loss, betrayal, and pain. Some things she had no control over; others were within her power to change. To that end, she was drawn into desperate circumstances.

“Did you wish to see me, Mr Osborne?” the innkeeper suddenly broke in, bringing Osborne back to the present.

“Yes.” The haughty air was back, hanging on Osborne like a cloak. “I need a servant girl, someone clean and responsible. I will need her to sit with my man morning and evening while we take our meals,” Osborne said quietly, only just remembering to include Edward Steele. “After today we will take our lunch in our rooms, but then we will want the girl to sit for a time while we take a bit of exercise. I am willing to pay well if the job is done as I desire. Are you able to find someone?”

“My daughter would be only too happy.”

“Very well. I will expect her in two hours, so we may come downstairs to dine.”

“As you wish, sir. Are you in need of anything just now?”

“No. I shall be out for a time, but my companion is in the room. Please check on him shortly in case he has a need.”

“Yes, sir,” the man said, his English very good.

Osborne did not so much as nod in his direction as she headed for the door. She wasn’t overly pleased to be out on her own but remembered how blind people could be. Remembering that Edward Steele was the first to ever confront her, she kept her head up, every move aristocratic, and kept moving.

“Banco?”
she questioned a man who passed her. He stopped and pointed.

Osborne kept on. She didn’t need a bank, but if she found one, she was certain that a post office or mailing facility would be in the vicinity.

A few questions later, she found herself close to the bank, her eyes scanning for signs of a post office. It took the better part of the block, but she eventually spotted a nondescript door and went toward it.

“Fala inglês?”
Osborne asked the woman inside, who said no.

Osborne reached into her vest and brought out the letter she’d written while Edward had been gone from the inn. Seeing it, the woman nodded and began to speak. Osborne caught little of it, but she pulled forth a few coins. The woman took two of them, and Osborne understood that her letter would be sent.

Feeling tired, her feet hurting, she started back toward the door that led to the street. She remembered who she was supposed to be for her walk back through town, and even as she entered the inn and went upstairs. Not until she was safely inside the room with Denley and Edward did she let down a bit.

“Any change?”

“No,” Edward told her.

Osborne nodded.

“A servant will be here in a little more than an hour to sit with Denley while we go down for lunch.”

“All right.”

“I’m not sure if I need to explain this to you, but Denley ill or not, I need to keep a normal profile.”

Edward nodded, but she hadn’t looked at him yet. She did so when he remained quiet.

“Is there a problem?”

“No. I nodded, but you didn’t see me. Who is coming to stay?”

“The innkeeper’s daughter.”

“Rosario?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, if it’s her, we’ve met. She appears kind and competent.”

Edward watched her shoulders sag a little. Not for the first time, he wondered what drove her. He looked to Denley, his heart aching with prayers for this man. Edward so wanted to trust God for the outcome, but he was tempted to beg his heavenly Father to heal Denley…not just for the servant’s sake, but so as not to leave Osborne on her own.

“I’ll sit with him for a time,” Osborne said to Edward, who was still in the chair.

“All right. It’s warm in here. Shall I open a window?”

“Maybe a little.”

Edward noticed that she did not remove her coat. He wanted to tell her she was safe with him but didn’t know how to go about it. He went to the window and opened it some. They were on the second floor, and for a moment he looked out. The docks were not far off, and he knew that the town stretched off to his left. The fresh air felt invigorating—he could smell the ocean. It wasn’t overly warm; just pleasant. It would have been a fine day to walk about Lisbon, but he knew he couldn’t leave just then.

A soft moan from the bed brought Edward’s mind back to the room. He turned from the window and approached the bed. Denley had begun to slide down in the bed again. Edward had noticed it before and shifted him so his head was back on the pillow. This time he bent over the man and gently removed the pillow.

“He doesn’t seem to want it under his head,” Edward said when he found Osborne’s eyes on him.

Osborne was utterly silent with mental castigations. She knew very well that Denley preferred a very flat pillow or none at all, but she hadn’t even noticed.

“Are you all right?” Edward suddenly asked.

Osborne’s eyes flew to him. She had been completely unaware he’d been watching her so closely. Was she that comfortable in this man’s presence or just that upset over Denley’s condition?

“Yes,” she answered shortly, forcing her eyes from his probing gaze. She went back to bathing Denley’s flushed face and head, giving her an excuse not to look at him.

Edward could see her need for privacy and turned away, going toward his bag.

“I’m going to settle in my room. I’ll check on you shortly.”

“Shall I knock on your door when Rose gets here?”

“Rosario,” Edward corrected. “If I don’t come back first, that will be fine.”

Not until he exited did Osborne realize she wasn’t certain which room was Edward’s. She nearly came to her feet and went after him but changed her mind. Even if they were late to lunch, Osborne decided that she’d rather Edward came to her.

“Did Rosario meet with your approval?” Edward asked the moment the
gentlemen
took a seat at one of the tables downstairs. There were other diners in the large room, but their place by the window gave them a modicum of privacy.

“Yes. She seemed capable and kind.”

Edward nodded, but Osborne didn’t notice.

“Had Denley roused at all?”

“He took another drink of water, but I don’t believe he was very aware.”

Both of his questions had been answered absently. Edward had never taken his eyes from his companion, slightly amazed at how good her disguise was but also waiting to see if she would look at him. Not until he asked his next question did her eyes turn in his direction.

“I think you should tell me your name—your real name.”

The eyes that looked at him were guarded and keen. They were eyes that had been forced to weigh every circumstance, person, and event. Edward knew he was being evaluated.

“Why do you wish to know?”

“I just think it wise. I’m not asking that you trust me—you have no reason to—but I would like to know your name.”

When she didn’t speak right away, Edward said, “I’m not like Waldengrave.”

“Why did you mention him?”

“I got the impression you didn’t trust him.”

“I didn’t at first, but then I realized he just liked to talk.”

The table was silent again for several moments. The room around them hummed with low voices and the sound of cups and plates moving. Edward waited this time, his eyes ever watchful.

“Niki,” she began softly but stopped and took a small breath. “Nicola Bettencourt.”

“Bettencourt,” Edward tested the name, having caught the perfect pronunciation. “You don’t look French.”

“I’m not.”

Edward stared at her a moment before saying, “But Nicola is French also, is it not?”

“That is true.”

This said, Edward’s companion turned her eyes to the window, clearly indicating the conversation to be over. Nevertheless, Edward waited. She volunteered no other information. Not that he was surprised. This woman had secrets to keep and no reason to share them with him, but her name made him more curious than ever. Was she running from her husband? That might explain the French name for a woman who was not French. Or had she been telling him the truth about that name?

“Niki,” Edward said softly, only to have her instantly turn.

“Why did you do that?” Her voice had turned sharp.

“To see if it was truly your name.”

Niki sighed, her eyes lowering.

“I know this must seem very curious and odd to you, Mr Steele, but I beg your indulgence in this matter. I ask that you not give me away. I promise you that all I hold dear depends on it.”

Edward continued to watch her. She was either the finest actor in the world or speaking the truth. Edward could not find it in his heart to deny her.

“Unless I am asked to do something that goes against my beliefs, I shall go along with this and help where I am able.”

Relief was written all over her when she said, “Thank you,” and turned to the window again.

Their food arrived shortly after. Both were hungry and enjoyed the meal, but each was busy with myriad thoughts: Edward speculating on the whole affair and Niki asking herself what she would do if she did not reach her destination before Christmas.

“Over there is a small bakery.” Edward pointed. “They make marvelous breads and pastries.”

“You talk as though you’ve been here often,” Niki commented, carrying herself through the streets of Lisbon as though she owned the city. She had gone upstairs to check on Rosario and Denley before leaving, but now she was on a walk with Edward, strolling as though she had nothing the least bit troublesome on her mind.

“Just one other time,” Edward told her and then fell silent, not because he was out of things to say but because he rather hoped she would talk a little.

Edward remained quiet for the next 20 minutes, but Niki said nothing more. Some of Lisbon’s architecture was lovely, and Edward watched her take notice, but she didn’t comment or even look in his direction as they walked.

She also seemed content to let him lead the way. He took them in a circle that allowed them to enjoy many of the sights but still managed to land them back at the inn.

Once inside, Edward followed Niki back to the room. He listened while she asked about Denley and then dismissed Rosario. When he glanced over to find Denley’s eyes open, he went to him.

“How are you, Denley?”