Chapter 5

Five

T he horse slowed to a shuffling walk without much urging from its rider and took its time skirting a tall stand of gorse, careful to avoid the tangle of thorny leaves.

“Mrs. Sprague?” Alex looked around in some consternation. He was sure he had not erred in finding his way back to where he had left her an hour earlier. Surely the headstrong young lady had too much sense to set off for the border on foot, despite her obvious displeasure with having her plans summarily changed. His voice rose a notch higher. “Mrs. Sprague?”

There was a faint rustling of leaves, then what sounded suspiciously like an oath. The top of Aurora’s head appeared from behind a drywall, followed by much heaving and scrabbling before the rest of her came into view.

He had to repress a chuckle as she swiped at the bits of thistle and hay that clung in her hair. “When I said to lay low, I did not mean for you to take it quite so literally.”

A curl fell over her cheek. “It’s all very well for you to laugh, sir,” she replied with some indignation. “But I was only following your orders. A shepherd was approaching with his flock, and as you said it was best to remain out of sight, I made to duck behind the wall. How was I supposed to know there was a rather deep drainage ditch running the length of it?”

“Well, there is an old adage—look before you leap.” She looked, Alex decided, ready to leap down his throat if he continued with such teasing. So, much as he enjoyed the way her green eyes turned to molten jade when she was angry, he left off trying to provoke her. Dismounting, he went to fish out her valise from the overgrown whin and brambles.

“Yes, well, I should definitely have looked before I leapt into my carriage the other day,” she muttered. “I would avoided a great deal of bother had I done so.”

“I am cut to the quick to think you are not enjoying my scintillating company.” He grinned. “Most females do, you know.”

“Somehow, I doubt the wound will prove mortal to your vanity, Major Woodmore,” she retorted. “Am I really supposed to be impressed with your irresistible charm and polish? So far, I have been accosted with a knife, forced to nurse my delirious assailant, then dragged from my bed by another deadly attack and made to flee in the dead of night.” Aurora crossed her arms and scowled. ”Robbie would be thrilled, for she dotes on Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels, but I am not.”

His lips twitched. “No? What happened to the starry-eyed notions of romance that every young lady secretly entertains, no matter her avowals to the contrary?”

There was a brief silence, broken only by the harsh cawing of a solitary raven. “Marriage happened,” she finally answered, her voice as tight as the fists that were clenched at her sides. “And real life. Storybook romance has no place in such a world.” She brushed away another wisp of hair that the wind had loosened. “Shouldn’t we be moving on, Major Woodmore?”

Alex’s expression sobered considerably. “Right.” He moved to tie her bag behind the saddle, alongside his own meager possessions, but found it hard to drag his thoughts away from the conundrum she presented. It was difficult to reconcile the hardened cynicism of her words with the look of achingly youthful—almost waiflike—vulnerability that she tried so hard to cover with her scowls and frowns. Had the past really been so wretched as to strip her of fanciful dreams? Of?—

“… able to find no other mount?” Aurora stared at the nag he had secured from the run-down inn.

He head came round at her pointed inquiry. “There was little choice,” he explained. “Besides, it was best not to attract undue attention by asking for two horses. With any luck, our adversary will think that you have managed to give both of us the slip.” He fastened a last knot. “Don’t worry, we don’t have far to go.”

“Surely you cannot mean to?—”

His hands went around her waist as she spoke and swung her up across the pommel of saddle with ease. He spent a moment arranging the folds of her skirts, then found the stirrup with his boot and mounted as well.

“Major Woodmore,” she began again.

“Mrs. Sprague, a clandestine mission such as this one demands that I keep my true identity a secret. It would be best if you did not continue to use that name. ”

“I can see the sense of that.” She paused. “What would you have me call you then, sir?”

“Alex will do nicely.”

“I hardly think?—”

“After all,” he reasoned, not without a mischievous grin,” We have gotten to be on rather intimate terms, having seen each other in various stages of undress over the past few days.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “That is not very gentlemanly of you to bring up,” she muttered. “Still, I suppose that what you suggest is acceptable, given the circumstances.” Pulling away from his person as much as her awkward position would allow, she added,” However, it does not mean that I consider us friends.”

“No, of course not, Aurora,” he murmured, drawing her rigid back closer to his chest.

“Insufferable man,” she said through clenched teeth, but the shambling gait of the nag made it impossible to resist without resorting to an undignified squirming. Instead, she clamped her jaw shut and fell into a stony silence,

For a time, the only sounds were the dull thud of the horse’s hooves on the damp earth and the swish of the tall grasses against its flanks. After a mile or so, Alex turned their direction from following the rough cart path and struck out for the top of a rocky knoll.

“Where are we going?” Aurora finally demanded, curiosity winning out over her resolve to ignore her companion.

Alex didn’t answer, but spurred the animal into a semblance of a trot. Once they had crested the rise, he paused for a moment to survey the area, then gave a tug to the reins, urging their mount down into a small valley that looked to be nothing more than a sliver of overgrown pastureland cut out from the thick forest of oak and evergreens. The splash of water over stones soon revealed the presence of a small river skirting the edge of the woods as the animal picked its way through the thistles and thorns. It wasn’t until they had descended to its banks that a small, thatched-roof, stone cottage became discernable up ahead, its weathered grey hue nearly melding into the outcropping of granite that stood in its lee.

Drawing the pistol from his coat pocket, Alex slid from the saddle and lifted Aurora to the ground as well. “Stay here,” he ordered in a low whisper, then moved off with quick but noiseless steps toward the low structure. In a matter of moments, he had disappeared the far corner.

His movements became much more deliberate as he edged the wall, his back pressed up against the damp stone. The rough planked door was firmly shut and the lack of any smoke curling up from the chimney seemed to indicate the place was utterly deserted. He stopped long enough to sound three short whistles.

The same signal echoed back to him from within the cottage. After a moment, the door swung half open. “The Peninsula is hot,” said a low voice.

“But not as hot as London these past few months,” replied Alex.

A figure slipped out from the darkened interior. “Ahh, Major Lord Fenimore—that is, Lord Woodbridge. I had expected you rather earlier.” The man’s pistol was still at the ready as he shot a look over Alex’s shoulder. “Where is Urquehart?”

“Dead.” Alex dropped his own weapon to his side. “Along with the fellow who set the ambush.”

The other man frowned. “Damnation. What happened?”

“I’ll explain in a bit. But first let me fetch my horse.”

“You can tether him behind the rocks, along with mine. It’s well out of the view of any casual observer. By the way, sir, I’m Wheatley.”

Alex acknowledged the introduction with a curt nod. “I’ve heard a good word about you from the general. You’re Sedgewick’s son—the one who helped pluck Captain Hinchley from the coast of Brittany. A neat piece of work.”

The younger man dipped his head in awkward acknowledgement. “Rather it is you whose exploits are legendary, milord. I look forward to working with a man of your experience and ability.”

Ha! thought Alex to himself with a wry grimace. Not in a moment you won’t.

He was, however, a bit more circumspect when he spoke aloud. “There has, I’m afraid, been a bit of a complication added to the original plan. I do have someone with me, though not the man either you or I expected.” Before Wheatley could voice the question that was forming on his lips, Alex finished off in a rush. “I’ll explain that later as well, but it would be safer for the person in question if our real identities remain a secret, in case of any trouble. There is to be no mention of Woodbridge or Fenimore. Just call me Alex.”

The man nodded in understanding. “Very good, sir. The I imagine I am to be simply Jack.”

“Right. Now I’d best go get her.” Under his breath he added, ”Before she takes it into her lovely head to make off with my mount.”

“Her!” exclaimed the other man in disbelief, but the earl was already around the corner. “Hell’s Teeth.”

Some minutes later, Jack couldn’t help but repeat the oath on seeing a willowy figure clad in skirts duck through the door.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance as well,” retorted Aurora, her chin lifting a fraction. “You may be sure, sir, I am no more pleased with the situation than you are.”

Unaware that his words were quite so audible, the agent from London had the grace to color. “Er, I did not mean, that is, I?—”

Aurora ignored his stammering. With a toss of her head, she undid the strings of her bonnet and shook out her curls, causing the man’s words to become even more jumbled. Her eyes raked over the small wooden table, the bare earthen floor and several wooden crates, then fell back on Alex.

“Now what?”

He kept his expression remained impassive, though her feisty reaction nearly drew a grin. “I’m sure you would like to rest for a bit,” he said smoothly. “No doubt there is a pallet of some sort in the other room where you might lie down, is there not, Jack?”

“Yes. Though it’s hardly the sort of thing fit for a … lady,” croaked Jack. “I did not expect?—”

“Nor did I,” interrupted Aurora dryly. “I’m sure it will do.” She reached for her valise before Alex could picked it up and stalked to the flimsy door that divided the already small space in half. “I take your hint, sir, that the presence of a mere female is deemed unnecessary, now that there are serious matters to discuss.” There was no mistaking the edge of sarcasm undercutting her words. “Well, it is to be hoped that two male brains will be sufficient to come up with a suitable plan.” Her tone, however, indicated she wasn’t betting on it.

“Good lord,” breathed Jack, wiping at his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket once the door fell shut with a rather loud bang. “Who in the name of Hades is that?”

“That,” replied Alex with a twitch of his lips, “is Mrs. Aurora Sprague.”

The other man gave him a look that bordered on reproach. “I have heard whispers of your, er, reputation with the ladies, sir, but?—”

“The redoubtable Mrs. Sprague has offered up not her virtue, but her timely assistance. Without her help I would likely not be alive.” He then went on to explain all that had happened since his landing near the town of Ayr.

Jack gave a low whistle when the account was finished. “So they knew when and where you were coming, as well as your exact identity.” He shook his head and his expression became very grim. “Things are even worse than we imagined. There are only a handful of men who knew all of that information. And I would have been willing to bet my life on it that they all were above suspicion.”

Alex rubbed at his jaw but said nothing.

“The devil take it,” continued Jack, giving vent to his frustration with the low oath. “It makes no sense. Each of them has an exemplary record in the service of his country.”

“No debts or gambling losses or other such pressures that might drive a man to desperate acts?” asked Alex.

“That occurred to me also, but I turned up no hint of anything amiss in any of their personal affairs.” His boot scuffed at the dirt floor. “There is something else deucedly confusing in this whole affair. Why he would trust a female to carry out the most important—and dangerous—part of the …”

“Of course it is difficult for you to fathom,” interrupted Aurora. She closed the door behind her and breezed past them. “However if you were to stop thinking in such a predictable pattern and used a bit of imagination, the answer would appear rather logical. At least it does to me.” Secretly enjoying the startled looks her comment had brought to their faces, she paused to sweep the room with her gaze. “Is there any water here, or must I go fetch it from the stream?”

Jack nearly knocked over the crate on which he was sitting in his haste to retrieve an earthenware jug from his leather rucksack.

Aurora observed that while he was not so tall or broad in the shoulders as the Major, he moved with the same lithe grace. Noting the ripple of muscle under the linen of his shirt, and the quickness of his movements, she decided to reserve judgment as to whether he was really quite as inept as first impression seemed to indicate.

After all, he would not be the first male to have his wits momentarily addled by having a female speak to him as an equal. The question was whether he would be smart enough to listen.

With that in mind, she slanted another quick look at his face from under her lashes. There was no question it was a handsome one. No doubt he had a good deal of experience in amatory exploits, if not missions of a more serious nature. He had lively eyes as well—not, perhaps as lively as the Major’s, but ones that hinted at a certain depth of intelligence. She decided to give him a chance to show his mettle.

“Well, at least you have managed to think of a few essentials,” she allowed. When it became clear that no glass was to be forthcoming, she took a small swig right from the jug.

“Sorry,” mumbled Jack, a dull flush creeping over his cheeks. “But I didn’t

expect—”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Putting the container down on the table with a thump, she couldn’t resist adding a further comment, in a voice just loud enough to be heard, “Really! If the fate of nations is in the hands of the likes of you two, it is no wonder that Bonaparte rules most of Europe.”

The younger man turned rather green around the gills, but Alex gave a loud chuckle, unperturbed by her gibe. “I’m afraid that neither of us have made a very favorable impression on Mrs. Sprague, Jack.”

That was not entirely true, she was compelled to admit, trying hard not to let her gaze linger on the sensuous curve of his smile, or the interesting little cleft in his rugged chin. Her opinion of him had changed a bit since her initial reaction. After witnessing him handle his attacker with cool aplomb, despite his weakened state, she no longer thought of him as “bumbling.” Not in the least. Furthermore, she reminded herself, he had organized their retreat and the logistics of abandoning the carriage with admirable efficiency.

“We shall have to see if we can’t think of something to do in order to win her regard,” Alex continued in a soft drawl. “A daunting challenge, to be sure, but one well worth the effort.” Though the light was dim, Aurora could swear he had the nerve to wink.

To her chagrin, it was now her own cheeks that were taking on a decidedly warm color. Drat the man. Why was it the simplest of his teasings seemed to set her to blushing like an untutored schoolgirl? It was most unlike her to let a man—any man—affect her composure. It was fortunate that he did not seem to expect a reply, for she was afraid that her voice would betray how easily he had penetrated her defenses.

But instead of continuing with another barrage of banter, Alex all at once became quite grave. He pulled another crate up to the table and gestured for her to take a seat. “However, in the meantime, perhaps you would consent to share your ideas with us. Heaven knows, we can use all the help we can get if we are to get to the bottom of this conundrum in time.”

Aurora wasn’t quite sure he was being serious. “You are really asking for my opinion?” she asked with some surprise.

He nodded. “You have certainly shown yourself to possess a sharp mind, and from what you told me at our first encounter, you appear to have a great deal of experience in the field of, say we say, discreet investigation. We would be fools to ignore your opinion simply on account of your … plumbing, wouldn’t we, Jack?”

The other man gave a strangled cough.

Aurora chose to accept the horrified wheeze as a “yes” and sat down. “Very well. Now, let me make sure I overheard you correctly—the crux of the dilemma centers on the fact that it seems impossible for any of the suspects to be a traitor. Correct?”

Both of them nodded.

“Well, then it is,” she announced.

Jack, she noticed, was watching her with the same sort of glazed expression that a mouse might regard a snake. “Is what?” he asked faintly.

“If it seems impossible, then most likely it is impossible,” she explained. “My guess would be that the real villain is not one of the gentlemen in question, but someone close to him. Someone to whom he might unwittingly reveal, if pressed skillfully enough in an unguarded moment, a good deal more than he should.”

Alex laced his fingers behind his head and fixed her with a keen look. In the flickering shadows it was difficult to discern exactly what was lurking in the blue depths of his eyes, but his words seemed clear enough. “Bravo, my dear. And whom would you be looking for, Aurora?”

“A trusted friend, perhaps from one’s schooldays. The sort of fellow one would share a bottle of port with at one’s club,” murmured Jack before she could answer. “Hmmm, that is?—”

The corners of Alex’s mouth curled up just a bit. “A logical suggestion, but I don’t think that’s exactly whom she had in mind. And I believe the unguarded moment she is referring to is a bit more intimate than drinking spirits at White’s.”

“Precisely, sir,” replied Aurora briskly, trying not to think about what a strange effect that suggestion of a smile, as well as the sound of her name on his lips, was having on her pulse. Since when had a man’s offhand approval sent her insides into such a tizzy?

She cupped her chin in her hand, as if it might help her get a grip on her emotions, and spent some moments in thought. “To begin with,” she finally said. “I would ask myself if any of these gentlemen have a wife or a mistress who might be suspect.” Her lips then pursed for an instant. ”On second thought, I would say it would definitely be a mistress. First of all, men are much more apt to try and impress their ladybirds with their importance than their wives.”

Both men stirred rather uncomfortably on their seats.

“And secondly, a woman who makes her living in such a business must be practical and think of one day retiring. I would imagine the amount paid for the type of information that is being sold would free a woman from any financial worries for the rest of her life.”

“A most interesting idea,” murmured Jack, in obvious fascination.

“What sort of woman would we be looking for?” added Alex.

“One who is clever and resourceful. One who is practical enough to do meticulous planning and imaginative enough to be able to improvise if things go awry. And most of all, one who has the nerve and resolve to take great risks in order get what she desires.”

“Sounds very much like you.” As Aurora’s mouth fell open in indignant protest, he grinned. “Except for the, er, ladybird part, of course.”

“Hmmph!” Resisting the childish urge to stick out her tongue, she merely narrowed her eyes and gave him what she hoped was a piercing glare before turning away with an audible sniff. “As I was saying, sir,” she went on, directing her words to Jack alone. “Is there anyone among your suspects who might be prone to be boastful. Or in need of being told how very clever he is?”

He scratched at his thatch of chestnut curls. “Now that you mention it, Dearbourne or Meechum might be possible candidates. Both think rather highly of themselves, and both have expensive cher amies .

His choice of a French phrase set Aurora to thinking. “ Cher amies —I don’t suppose either of the ladies in question has anything so obvious as a French parent?”

A look of dawning comprehension spread across Jack’s face, followed by one of undisguised admiration. “By Jove, what a clever idea, Mrs. Sprague! I should never have thought of something like that.” He spent some time mulling over the question. “It may be nothing important, but I think I remember some rumors about Dearbourne’s, er, lady having spent some time in Paris.”

“Would either of you recognize her on sight?”

Alex shook his head. “It has been some time since I was last in London. What about you, Jack?”

“Ahhh, I do believe I have seen her at the Opera and, er, at perhaps several other places.”

“Well then, that is one face to be watching for.” Aurora drummed her fingers on the rough wood of the table. “But don’t expect her to make it easy for you. She’ll not act or dress as she would in London. No, this woman has shown herself to be extremely clever. Be on the lookout for an aging lady’s maid or a simple farmer’s wife.”

“You think she may be a master at disguise?” asked Jack with some incredulity.

Aurora permitted herself a slight smile. “Of course. Females in her line of work understand all too well the art of appearance.” She then stood up and gave a small yawn. “Now, if you gentlemen have no further questions, I think I will lie down for a bit.”

Jack scrambled to his feet, while Alex took a bit more time in rising. “I think I shall do the same,” he announced. After a bit of a stretch he removed his jacket and started for the back room.

“A-are you going to?—”

“Sleep with you?” He finished off the sentence when it became clear the words were stuck in her throat. “A lovely offer, but I’m afraid I’m too tired to be at my best. Another time, maybe.”

“Conceited oaf,” she muttered through clenched teeth, mortified that yet again he had managed to bring a burn to her cheeks.

Alex was already dragging the second pallet into the main room. “Just teasing, Aurora.”

She was about to inform him that she had not granted him leave to use her given name with such irritating regularity when she saw a spasm of pain squeeze the laughter from his eyes. “Let Jack finish with that, sir. The bandage on your shoulder needs to be changed.” The edge was gone from her voice, replaced by a stab of concern. “Sit down and let me attend to it.”

He looked up, surprised. “You needn’t trouble yourself. I’ve dealt with plenty of scratches over the years. If I need a hand, Jack can help with the dressing.”

Such assurances caused the other man to go a bit pale. “Ahhh, actually, I’m not sure that I am?—”

“Males usually make a hash of such things—that is, if they don’t keel over first. Really, one would think that given your penchant for violence, you men wouldn’t be so squeamish at the sight of a little blood.” She disappeared for a moment, then returned with her reticule in hand. “I took the precaution of keeping a roll of clean linen in here.”

“A shame that the flask of brandy wasn’t as pliable as cloth,” quipped Alex.

“Oh, it wasn’t the spirits that shattered, it was the bottle of vinaigrette. So don’t faint again.”

“I didn’t faint,” he murmured. “But why on earth do you carry vinaigrette? Somehow I can’t imagine you ever succumbing to a fit of girlish vapors.”

“It makes sense to be prepared for every contingency.” Her fingers peeled back the shirt from his shoulder. “Jack, I don’t suppose you have a bowl that I might use for the water?”

The other man rummaged in his rucksack and managed to locate a battered tin cup.

“That will do.” Aurora unwrapped the old bandage, then extracted another bit of cloth, along with a glass vial, from her reticule. After dampening the rag, she began to swab at the jagged wound. Jack made a strange sound in the back of his throat and offered to refill the jug. He was out of the door without waiting for a reply.

“OUCH!” exclaimed Alex.

“Stay still! That could not possibly have hurt.”

He winced as she probed a different spot. “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely.” Satisfied that there was no sign of infection, she sprinkled a liberal amount of basilicum over the raw flesh and started to wind the fresh linen in place. As she worked, her head came close to his and she could feel the soft whisper of his breath against the lobe of her ear. It stirred a lock of her hair, causing it to fall over the rise of her cheek. Her hand moved to brush it back, but his was quicker.

“Allow me.” With a deft touch, he tucked it behind her ear, but his fingers lingered, toying with a strand or two of the errant curls. “You know, you are truly a female of admirable talents.”

Aurora ducked her head. “Most any farm wife knows how to bind up a simple injury. Yours doesn’t look to be of concern anymore. It seems you are well out of danger.” She wished the same could be said for herself. Good Lord, the man’s touch was sending a heat worse than any fever coursing through her veins, and all of a sudden it was getting rather difficult to breathe.

“Grateful as I am for your practical skills, it is your sharp mind and invaluable insight that I was referring to. I daresay if we succeed in stopping the traitor, it will be in no small part due to you.”

The small room appeared to be tilting at an odd angle. Reaching out to steady herself, Aurora found her hand splayed across the front of his bare chest. “I-I am happy if a few of my suggestions have proved useful.”

Now, if only she had a suggestion for how to ignore the strange things his proximity was doing to her insides! All her strength had mysteriously melted away, leaving her limbs feeling like jelly. In another moment, she realized, she would plop into his lap, her quivering lips inches from his.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to put out of her mind the memory of that first kiss between them. Hell’s Bells. The man had been half dead and still his embrace had left her nearly senseless. Surely a fresh assault would render her?—

Jack paused at the door and shifted the jug to his other hand. “Perhaps I should?—”

“I’ve just finished with the M-ma?—”

“Alex,” he corrected.

“With Alex,” she finished, hoping her face was not as scarlet as a soldier’s tunic as she scrambled out of her awkward position. “He seems to be recovering nicely.”

Jack cleared his throat, making a noise that, to Aurora’s burning ears, sounded suspiciously like a strangled chuckle. “Yes, so it appears.”

“I swear,” she whispered, taking a quick look at amusement bubbling up in Alex’s eyes. “If you say one rude comment—just one—the next bandage will be wrapped around your throat!” Straightening her skirts she stepped over to the table and made a show of putting her supplies back in her reticule.

Her attention, however, was not so engaged that she didn’t see him sway slightly as he stood up. A second glance made it evident that beneath the stubble and dirt and grinning bravado, his face had become more pale than she would have liked. “You had better lie down.” Turning to Jack she added, “Do you think we might venture a fire a bit later? He needs something hot to drink.”

“I don’t need any coddling,” snapped Alex. “Just need an hour or two of sleep.”

Aurora ignored him. “Perhaps you might ride into the nearest town and get the following ….” She rummaged around in her bag for a pencil and a scrap of paper, then scribbled a short list.

“I was planning on doing a bit of reconnoitering, ma’am, so I’m sure I can find what you want.”

“Stay away from the coast just yet,” warned Alex. “Until we have made further plans, we don’t want to alert our quarry to our presence.”

“Right. I thought I would head to Kilmarnock. It’s on the main coaching road and with some discreet questions, it may be possible to learn a few things about the recent comings and goings. And since it is one of the larger towns in the area, I shall also be able to pick up some supplies and another horse there without attracting attention.” He took up his rucksack. “Anything else you might need, ma’am?

“No, not at the moment.” She walked over and handed him her list. “Oh, you may as well call me Aurora, too, as it seems we are all going to get to know each other rather well over the next little while.”

He grinned. “With pleasure, Aurora.”

As her back was turned, she didn’t see the color of the earl’s eyes darken a shade, or the slight frown that tightened his lips as Jack said her name.