CHAPTER 3

C HAPTER 3

T he trip from Cornwall to Paris had been swift and tiring; the day spent at the embassy was demanding in a different way as Cade talked to staff and guards and investigated the surroundings. It was dark now and he’d done as much as he could for the day. Now it was time to find Tamsyn to discuss what they’d learned and perhaps raid the kitchen for a late supper. But first he needed to find his assigned quarters.

The young aide who guided him up to the top floor said apologetically, “I’m sorry there is no better room available, sir, but the embassy is full to bursting because no one wants to stay outside the compound with Paris in such a disturbed state.”

“I understand. It’s not for long, and I guarantee that I’ve stayed in worse quarters.” In barns and bushes when nothing better was available. He hoped they’d found a more suitable room for Tamsyn.

“Here you are, sir.” The aide indicated a door with a sliver of light underneath. “Sleep well.”

Cade opened the door to a slant-ceilinged attic illuminated by a single lamp, which revealed a neat stack of baggage, a not-very-wide bed, and Tamsyn, who was perched on the edge of the bed, brushing her shining blond hair so that it spilled over her blue robe. The sight of her beauty and the intimacy of the setting blazed through him like lightning, shattering his nerves and control.

Tamsyn’s gaze snapped to him. “Is something wrong? I just felt a blast of shock from you.”

He clamped down on his emotions with the iron control he’d cultivated all his life. “I didn’t expect to see you here. What are you doing in my room?”

“ Our room,” she said cheerfully. “Mr. Holland assumed we’re married so it wouldn’t be a problem for us to share.”

Cade wanted to grind his teeth. “I should have made it clear that we prefer separate rooms.”

“We’re lucky to have this. Two servants were moved in with two other servants in order to give us this room.” She began plaiting her hair into a long braid. “We’ll manage. Though we aren’t married, for much of our lives we’ve lived under the same roof. We’ve even shared the same bed.”

“That was when you were about four years old,” he pointed out. “Living under the same roof is different from sharing a room. You’re not just my younger sister, but a well-born young lady. It feels very . . . improper for me to be here.”

She laughed. “Cade, it isn’t like you to worry about propriety! We’re on a mission and we’ll do whatever is necessary. And what’s necessary now is eating. I’m hungry!”

“So am I,” Cade said, glad to change the subject. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast, which was many miles and hours ago. Shall I go down to the kitchen and see what I can beg, borrow, or steal?”

“I already have.” She stood and lifted a basket onto the small table. “One of the cooks provided us with a good selection of meats and cheeses and breads as well as a rather fine-looking bottle of red wine.” She began taking food parcels out of the basket.

Relaxing, he moved to the table, knowing that sharing a meal with Tam would make the situation feel more normal. “You’re the best forager I know.”

“It’s not a dramatic gift, but useful,” she said as she opened a parcel of sliced ham. “Would you like ham and cheese on excellent French bread?”

“Please!”

She assembled a well-filled sandwich, poured wine into a tumbler, and set it on the other side of the table. He settled in a wooden chair and took a large bite of his sandwich. Delicious. After chewing and swallowing, he asked, “How did you get on with the duchess?”

“Surprisingly well. We packed her belongings into trunks together because her French maid has left her.”

“The duchess was willing to do such menial labor?” Cade said, surprised. “With her reputation, I’d have thought such tasks would be beneath her.”

“She’s felt very isolated here, so she welcomed my company.” Tamsyn sipped her wine before continuing, “I’ve heard that her first husband, the Duke of Dorset, married her for her beauty but was a notorious womanizer with a passion for cricket and little time for his young wife.”

“No wonder she’s prickly.” He shook his head. “Beauty can be such a curse for women. I’m glad you won’t ever be forced into a situation like that.”

“So am I. Beauty is a decidedly mixed blessing. Money is more useful.” Tamsyn looked reflective. “I have the feeling that the duchess’s cool composure and demands for the respect due to her rank were her way of protecting herself in her difficult first marriage. But the duke’s death left her a wealthy woman, so she was able to marry a man she loves. Whitworth is very different from her first husband. She wants to be a good wife to him, but this time in France has been very hard for her.”

Tamsyn’s assessments of people were always astute, and this analysis gave Cade a better understanding of the ambassador’s wife. “It sounds as if she’ll be cooperative in getting them to safety.”

“She will.” Tamsyn ate a bite of her sandwich. “What have you been doing all day?”

“Talking to the guards to organize protection for the journey to Calais. There are several wagons which will leave together, carrying furniture and the like, but the most important papers and embassy staff members will leave later in two carriages. There will be no flags or coats of arms to attract attention, and each wagon and carriage will have an armed guard.”

Tamsyn finished her sandwich. After washing it down with a sip of wine, she asked, “Will you and I travel with the Whitworths?”

“I’ll be one of two outriders, moving back and forth and watching for trouble. I thought you should ride inside with the ambassador and his wife as the last line of defense if one is needed.”

“That makes sense, as well as sparing me from any rain that may fall.” She sipped more wine. “Did you find anything dangerous hidden in the shrubbery around the embassy?”

He grimaced. “Unfortunately, yes. I did the search with Hansen, the captain of the embassy’s military guard. We found a hidden cache of gunpowder large enough to destroy most of the building if it had been set off.”

Tamsyn gave a soft whistle. “A good thing you searched!”

“We took care of the immediate threat,” he said seriously. “But the bad news is that I sensed the explosives had been placed there by a strongly gifted man. Ordinary searchers would almost certainly have missed them.” He hesitated before continuing, “The energy that marked the explosives was very distinctive and very focused.”

Frowning, Tamsyn set her wine tumbler down. “That’s deeply disturbing. Would you recognize the man if you met him in person?”

“Yes, though I hope that doesn’t happen. He’s as cold and poisonous as a scorpion. He radiates hatred toward Britain and the British.”

“He’s not alone in that, but being gifted makes him particularly dangerous,” she agreed. “A scorpion indeed.”

“Rhys was right that our services will be needed to get everyone safely home,” Cade replied. “Luckily, I think that Hansen, the captain of the guard, is more than a little gifted himself. He has good military instincts, so he takes me and my suggestions seriously. He’ll be the other outrider.”

She nodded in approval. “I’ve often thought that soldiers who have survived multiple battles have to be at least somewhat gifted.”

“Hansen might agree, though he said that most soldiers would loathe being called gifted, we being such a despicable lot,” Cade said dryly. “Instead, they talk about having a sixth sense for danger.”

“The description doesn’t matter as long as they know when to duck!” Tamsyn’s expression became serious. “Do you have a sense of what the journey to Calais will be like?”

He closed his eyes and wished he could predict the future accurately. Or maybe not. Knowing what was going to happen might be more knowledge than a man could bear. But he did sometimes have a sense of the shape of the future. “I think we’ll get them there safely,” he said slowly. “But there will be trouble with . . . an unexpected twist at the end. Something impossible to predict.”

“I do not find that comforting, but I’m sure we’ll contrive. We’re clever that way.” Tam swallowed the last of her wine, then covered a ladylike yawn. “I’m ready to go to bed. It’s been a long day, and that small glass of wine is hitting me like a draft of opium.”

Both of their gazes went to the bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” Cade said. “That bed is not large enough for two.”

“But you’re older and you should have the bed to spare your weary old bones,” she said mischievously.

“Not that much older.” Cade swallowed the last of the wine. “But as your older brother, I insist that you, my delicate younger sister, must take the bed.”

She laughed. “You know I’m as tough as old boots, but I’ll never win an argument when you’re in protective big brother mode.” She stood and stretched with catlike grace. “In deference to our delicate sensibilities or perhaps our elevated status, the maids arranged a tiny washing area behind the screen in that corner. You’ll have to bend your head, though.” She headed to the corner, still yawning.

The maids had also left a good supply of blankets so Cade folded a couple together to make a pallet, placing it as far from Tamsyn as the room would allow. As he improvised a pillow, he did his best to ignore the sounds of her splashing in the corner.

After she’d washed up, she emerged from the screened corner and slid under the bedclothes, murmuring, “Good night, Cade. May tomorrow not bring more adventures!”

She rolled away to face the wall and pulled the covers over her head. Perhaps she was trying for invisibility, but he was still sharply aware of her.

He stripped down to his shirt and drawers, then moved behind the screen. There was a chamber pot and a very small washstand with a basin, a water pitcher, soap, and a pair of towels. As Tam had said, he had to duck his head.

After washing up, he checked how much oil was in the lamp, then turned it down to the lowest possible level, just enough to provide dim illumination so no one would stumble over baggage if they had to get up. Fortunately, the one narrow window faced east so the room would receive dawn light, which would help for rising early. The next day would be at least as busy as the one ending.

Wearily, Cade lay down on the pallet. Tamsyn’s soft, regular breathing indicated that she was sleeping soundly. He should fall asleep as swiftly, but he didn’t. He was too aware of Tamsyn.

Her mention of the fact that they’d sometimes shared a bed had stirred up memories of when he and Bran had first been taken in by Gwyn and Rhys. The Tremaynes could not have been warmer or more welcoming, but Cade had been cold and afraid for too long to feel safe at first. He’d envied Bran’s ability to embrace their amazing good fortune and relax into their new life.

Later Cade had recognized that Bran’s earliest years in a prosperous household with a loving mother had given him a kind of confidence Cade had never known. Despite their differences, they’d bonded right away when they’d met at that vile baby farm.

They were both so young that it was hard to believe that they’d managed to leave Cornwall and travel all the way to London, but they’d done it. Bran had recognized that they must escape if they were to survive, and he’d come up with a bold plan. Cade was a couple of years older and stronger, and he had a powerful instinct to protect, so he’d successfully executed Bran’s plan with his practicality and fierce determination.

But for the length of that nightmare journey, Cade had been terrified that he wouldn’t be strong and clever enough to bring them to the unknown safety that Bran was sure they’d discover. Bran had been right, and they found their future with the two finest people either of them had ever met.

The Tremaynes knew better than to try to separate the boys, so they’d been given a room that had two beds. They had been fed and scrubbed and given new clothing; all should have been well. That first night, Bran had relaxed and settled in, sleeping as soundly as a contented kitten. But Cade had been unable to relax or sleep well because he was still desperately frightened inside. His father had been brutal, and Cade’s early years had been precarious. Fear had always been part of him.

With her gift for reading emotions, Tamsyn had recognized his inner terror, so on his second night in Tremayne House, she’d quietly entered the boys’ room even though she could barely reach the doorknob. Cade’s gift for awareness of his surroundings had shocked him to full, heart-pounding wakefulness when he heard her soft steps.

“It’s only me, Tamsyn,” she’d whispered as she approached the bed. He’d exhaled with relief and reached down to help her up onto the mattress.

“Why are you here?” he said in an equally soft whisper.

“To persuade you that you’re safe now.” She set one small hand on his chest and pushed him down, then cuddled up against his side. After a moment of shock, he wrapped his arms around her small form and began to shudder with silent tears.

Slowly he realized that she was sending warm, healing energy into him. “All will be well,” she murmured, sounding like a wise old sibyl, though he didn’t have the words to describe her then. He only knew that she was a miracle of warmth and understanding despite her tender years.

Gradually his fear faded, and he fell asleep with his arms around her. When he woke fully rested the next morning, she was gone.

She came again the next night to be sure that he was well and whole. He hugged her again, murmuring his thanks. They lay peacefully together until she sat up and pressed her soft childish lips to his cheek, whispering, “I’m so glad you’re my brother now.”

She’d left then, taking away his fear, and along with it, his heart.

* * *

Tamsyn woke the next morning to find that Cade had already left, as quiet as a cat on the hunt. She smiled at the thought as she pushed aside her covers and crossed to the tiny washroom. That soft-footed stealth was part of what made him such an excellent agent.

But as she splashed cold water onto her face, she realized he’d been right that sharing a room was different from traveling together with separate rooms, as they’d always done in the past. It was more . . . intimate.

In the darkness, hearing his soft breathing, she’d been very aware of him as a man, not only the brother she’d known most of her life. She’d always been very close to both Cade and Bran, though in different ways because they were different men. The previous night had created a different kind of closeness with Cade. More physical awareness.

She thought back to the two nights when she’d joined Cade in his bed after he and Bran had arrived at Tremayne House. As soon as he’d entered the household, she’d sensed his courage, strength, and honor, but she’d also felt his shattering fear that he would never be strong enough or good enough to do what must be done.

She couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t have her gift for sensing people and emotions, and she’d learned that she could calm people who were upset by touching them, usually taking hold of a hand. Hoping she could help Cade, the next night she’d slipped from her bed and gone to find him.

He’d welcomed her presence, so she settled beside him and laid her hand over his heart. She enjoyed the warmth of being next to him, but she was shocked to feel a surge of healing power so intense that surely it must have come from the divine. Awed, she sensed his fear dissolving, leaving the strength and integrity and loyalty that were the bedrock of his spirit.

It was a night she never forgot. She’d given Cade a gift of healing, and in return he’d shown her what she was born to do.

Today there were new challenges to meet. She dressed and prepared for another busy day of helping the duchess as a combination of companion and lady’s maid. The next morning, they’d be on their way home to England.

And then what? Frowning, she realized that for once she really had no sense of what the future held.

Except, she realized with a chill, that it would be different, unexpected—and dangerous.