Chapter Ten

25 Curzon Street, Mayfair

London

"M y lady, Mrs. Pritchett, Lord Sinclair is here," Jenkins announced with a courteous bow.

"Marvelous! Show him in and do ask the kitchen to send up some tea and biscuits," Lady Beadle replied.

Edward stepped in a few moments later and greeted his aunt and Lizzie. "I'm departing town and wanted to pay my respects before I had to leave. I also want to inform you about Simon and Josie—although I'm sure Lizzie has already briefed you." He cast a warm smile toward her.

Lizzie's throat went dry as soon as Edward mentioned he was leaving. He was leaving . Yes, she knew he must have a short assignment, but she kept pushing that from her mind. Now that the time had come for him to leave, she wasn't ready. Yesterday's idyllic afternoon had been perfect, and she'd enjoyed spending time with this man beside her. But here they were, saying goodbye again.

"I look forward to meeting Simon," Lady Beadle said, "although Athena has already advised that we should take our time with a dog, as she isn't fond of them."

Despite the turmoil within her, Lizzie couldn't help but laugh at his aunt's deference to Athena, almost as if she possessed human qualities herself. Admittedly, Lizzie found herself conversing with the cat whenever she visited her room. Then again, Athena did have very expressive eyes that seemed to convey an almost human understanding of things.

"Have you decided about his tutoring?" Lady Beadle asked. "I would be pleased to host him here."

Edward glanced at Lizzie with a curious smile in his eyes.

"I have already spoken to your aunt, and she generously suggested that Simon come here every afternoon for lessons," Lizzie said. "I would be happy to tutor him."

"Indeed, we are happy to help you with the young man's education," Lady Beadle added. "And perhaps a trip to town to gain him suitable clothing is in order. It could be a nice outing—without the dog, of course."

Edward smiled. "Aunt Millie, you are all that is kind. Mrs. Jones has already planned to purchase suitable clothing—but I am certain that as he familiarizes himself with the household, we may find other things he needs. I've left instructions with Kingsley to determine the most suitable assignment for Simon—something that will allow him plenty of time with his puppy—as she is his responsibility." He looked at Lizzie. "Your offer to tutor Simon is kind. And I wholly support and appreciate it. I will instruct Kingsley to organize this in my absence. Simon has never as much as learned to print his name, so lessons will be fundamental."

"It is tragic how these children are forced to live in the East End," Lady Beadle said. "Lizzie tells me the lad has no idea where his younger brother is."

"No, he doesn't. When I return, I will try to locate his brother, Bobby," Edward said.

"Ah, once upon a time, your uncle and I tried to help in a small way."

"It was no small way, Aunt Millie," he countered. "You built a school for deaf children that transformed many lives—lives that would have been cast aside because of their impediment. Your school gave these children a way to communicate, and helped teach us all that being deaf doesn't make one useless."

Lizzie noticed her employer seemed uncomfortable with praise.

"Yes, well, perhaps there is more to do, where that is concerned," Lady Beadle said, studying her ear trumpet. "I just remembered something I need to discuss with the cook for dinner. I'm afraid if I don't tell her now, it will slip my mind, and it is most important. Will you two young people excuse me? I shall return shortly." Without waiting for an answer, she stood. "Perhaps you might enjoy exploring the garden. It's beginning to take on its fall colors and is quite beautiful," she said, leaning on her cane for support.

"Of course, Aunt Millie," Edward said.

A few moments later, Edward and Lizzie were strolling through the garden. Lizzie loved the jasmine and white roses that lined the fence enclosing the garden. Lush clusters of colorful flowers, including pansies and Lenten roses, bordered the gravel path that wound its way through the garden. According to Lady Beadle, the gardener made sure every season was lush with color.

"I've noticed your aunt becomes emotional when speaking about the school for the deaf," Lizzie said.

"Yes. I've noticed, but it's always been so. Her schools were very instrumental in helping deaf children leave a bad situation for a brighter future—all over London. Many would have been sold into hopeless situations."

"I can't fathom the desperation that would lead a parent to consider selling their child," Lizzie whispered, her voice heavy with sorrow. "It's a profound cruelty inflicted upon both parents and children alike. As a society, we must strive for better, to protect the most vulnerable among us."

Gravel crunched beneath their feet as they walked to the long wooden swing in companionable silence. Edward held it while Lizzie sat down and adjusted her dress.

"I step out here now and then to smell the roses and enjoy the tranquil oasis." She pointed to the trellises that covered the lattice surrounding the swing and the fence, both full of white and pink roses. "Their scent is heavenly." The autumn hues were beginning to show themselves, and birds flitted about preparing for migration.

"Are you leaving?" she inquired in a hushed tone, her voice barely above a whisper. Seeing the garden gate ahead of them brought back memories of when she bade farewell to him a little over a year ago.

Edward stood in the doorway with the strap of his satchel thrown over his shoulder. His horse waited patiently tethered to a post. "I am hopeful I can be back within a month. I need to find my friend's son—whether he is dead or alive. But I promise to return, Lizzie."

The sight of him leaving made her heart catch in her chest. "What if you don't find him?"

"I will still come back for you. You are the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, and I don't want to lose you." He pulled her close, his gaze locking onto hers. She hoped he would express his true feelings for her. Yet the words her heart yearned to hear remained unspoken.

"My friend could die before he ever sees his son again," he continued. "I can't let that happen—not if there's anything I can do to bring him home safely. But time is of the essence, I fear. There is speculation the British may be pulling away from Louisiana, and that will make returning him to his father more difficult." He leaned in and gave her a deep kiss. "I meant what I said, Lizzie. I will be back for you."

She choked back the lump in her throat and blinked away the tears that threatened her.

"I'll be here." Then he left. She watched him until he disappeared from her view completely.

For more than a year, she had never thought to see him again. Would this trip be different? Would he return?

"Yes. Unfortunately, I've been called away on an urgent matter. I hope to be gone no longer than a fortnight. But it might be a little longer." With his strong arm around her, he tugged her closer and lifted her chin. "Upon my return, I plan to whisk you away to the theater, or the park, or Gunter's—anywhere you fancy. Perhaps even fishing in one of those ponds, like the one we picnicked near yesterday!"

"Fishing? My goodness, it's been ages since I've cast a line. Michael used to take me to a quaint creek behind Father's vicarage. He taught me to bait my hook, though he always handled the fish. Eventually, he taught me to swim. It was our little secret. Michael believed it was important for me to learn," she reminisced fondly.

"You think of him often, don't you?" he gently inquired.

Tears spilled from her eyes. "I wish I knew where he is," she confessed softly. After a moment's pause, she added, "I have this terrible feeling he needs me."

"If something had happened to your brother, I feel the Admiralty and Marine Affairs Office would have alerted you. Did you inform them that you live here?"

"Yes, although I don't have much confidence in them. It was almost like they were covering something up the last time I stopped by to inquire about Michael," she said.

"Lizzie, why do you say that?"

"The young man in the front office seemed ready to tell me something. Instead, he excused himself and brought his superior officer out to speak to me. They told me nothing. I know in my heart that there is something they are keeping from me, and I fear it has something to do with a dangerous assignment that Michael is on. Otherwise, why would they be so secretive and evasive?" She swiped at her face and turned away, embarrassed by the tears she couldn't control. "Forgive me, Edward—it's just that Michael is the only family I have left. The only person who has always been there for me."

"Lizzie, I promise I will inquire about your brother on your behalf. Please trust me. But he's not all you have. You have me." He pulled her close and cupped her face in his hands. "Lizzie, I know it seems like history is repeating itself, but trust me. I'll be back."

Her mouth suddenly felt like it was full of cotton. She simply nodded.

"You must promise me one thing, Lizzie. If you leave the house, promise you will take a footman with you. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."

Lizzie struggled to find her voice. "Do you think Blackwood is dangerous?"

"I don't know, but I need you to promise. I will feel better if I know someone like Reggie will be with you, should you go out," he said.

"I promise," she replied. Blackwood frightened her. What Edward asked was reasonable. "Just hurry back, Edward." Hurry back to me.

He leaned in and covered her mouth with his, and his touch ignited an overwhelming need within her. Lizzie moved her hands around his neck and fingered the hair at his nape, pulling him closer, while their tongues met in a tender exploration of each other's mouths, tasting and feeling every nuance. Their heartbeats became one as they poured their very essence into that moment. When the kiss ended, Lizzie touched her lips, determined to remember the taste of him.

She wanted to believe that one day they could share a future, but Lizzie doubted that could be her reality—even as Lady Beadle had assured her that, as Peter's widow, the ton would welcome her. Peter's parents hadn't seen things that way. To them, she was the daughter of a vicar whose family had owned a mercantile. Because of his lineage, her father wasn't a gentleman in the eyes of the ton , and Lizzie wasn't what they wanted for their son. She couldn't risk the scorn of Society. Never again.

*

Two days later

The English Channel outside of the Isle of Wight

As the boat approached the Isle of Wight, the first glimpse revealed rugged limestone cliffs standing supremely above cerulean waters, their appearance battered by centuries of waves and wind. Seabirds circled overhead, while the breeze carried the salty tang of sea spray and the faint scent of seaweed.

As the brigantine drew nearer, the landscape unfolded into verdant hills dotted with quaint villages nestled among rolling emerald fields. The harbor town of Ryde came into view, bustling with activity as colorful ships of all sizes bobbed and swayed in the gentle swell of the waves.

"I see the caves you were telling me about," Sin observed, folding the telescope. "I agree. They are well hidden. Without your guidance, I doubt I would have found them. I hadn't realized that the island had become such a hub for smuggling."

"Yes, since the war, the heavy taxation has pushed people to seek desperate measures for survival," Wright explained. "Some men on my crew have family involved."

"Does this assignment pose a problem? Our mission is to locate Captain Michael Robinson—"

"Mrs. Pritchett's brother," Wright interjected.

"Yes. Lizzie isn't aware of my true purpose here. I only informed her I would be away for a few weeks," Sin said.

My God! I love her. Why didn't I tell her? Instead, he'd merely said he cared deeply for her. Even so, she said little in return—nothing about her affection for him. Had he fooled himself about the depth of her feelings? He didn't know. But he planned to see her as soon as possible when he returned, and he would make sure she knew his feelings.

"She knows about your allegiances?" Wright raised an eyebrow.

"Lizzie knows I serve the Crown and, lately, Wellington. She's aware that my previous assignment in America was driven by friendship. But she knows nothing of my assignments," Sin assured his friend. "However, I had a high fever for weeks and have little recollection of what I said. But I've never worried about her loyalty."

Wellington's coded missive had informed him that Captain Michael Robinson was a prized agent and a courageous man, and they needed to do their utmost to find him. He should have asked Lizzie more about Michael, but he didn't want to reveal his assignment and didn't want her hopes up. Instead, he'd met with his sister after he told Lizzie goodbye. Celia gave him a description of Michael and a little more. His coloring was like Lizzie—blond, tall, green eyes, charming. Celia said the ladies were wild about him. However, the mamas wanted a title for their daughters.

At least Sin wouldn't need to marry for convenience to secure his legacy title. He had made peace many years ago with the decision to allow the title to pass to one of the other men in his family. He had no plans to marry unless it was for love.

Unless it is Lizzie.

"Put the red ensign flag up. Let 'em think we are a British merchant. And watch for the usual traps. Remember, we are on a rescue mission," Wright told Manson, his first mate. "Dock in Ryde—but once the sun goes down, everyone needs to be back on board."

"Aye, captain," Manson said. "I'll give the order for the men to be on alert for problems and keep drinking to a minimum."

"Good man. Thank you," Wright said.

Sin and Wright went below deck to Wright's cabin while the men readied the boat for docking.

"Once we rescue Robinson, we can find out what he knows about the leadership in this smuggling operation," Sin said. "You know more about the smuggling trade than I do. What are the odds he'll be alone in the cave—or with minimal guards?"

"There's a good likelihood," Wright said. "But it depends on what they are smuggling. If we can get in there at dusk, that would be best. If he's guarded lightly, the smugglers will likely be at the local pubs. They believe in intimidating those around them, although it's unnecessary, given that most of the villagers turn a blind eye to what they see whether for fear or support of the smuggler, something that frustrates the revenuers and customs officials." He slipped his spyglass into his belt. "Let's go to the kitchen and get something to eat. The crew will be back shortly, and we'll need to get underway."

The reconnaissance worked. An hour later, Manson returned and found Sin and Wright up on deck. He informed them that he'd overheard the owner of the local tavern arguing with two men, saying they needed to get back to the cave before "the Man" arrived. The men pushed back, arguing that the prisoner was near death and in no shape to escape, and they would take their time eating the only meal they'd gotten that day. It seemed the prisoner was a surprise catch. And the smugglers assumed they would no doubt be rewarded. Manson thought that if the prisoner was Robinson, he would be guarded lightly.

"The sooner we can rescue Robinson, the less likely we will run into whoever is organizing this operation," Wright murmured.

"It's nerve-racking to know someone is diverting all the ammunition and guns," Sin said. "That can only turn out badly. Our orders are only to rescue Robinson, but I have a sneaking suspicion we'll be back to enjoy the beauty of this lovely island."

He focused on the spot he had seen earlier when he had searched for the cave opening with the spyglass, using a large rock he had seen as a landmark. In the moonlight, the white, jagged edges of the rock formation lent a strange beauty to the coastline. The back of his neck prickled with awareness. He checked his boots, feeling for the blades he usually packed on these missions.

Dressed from head to toe in black, Sin and an extra man, McDougall, climbed down the ship's ladder, where Wright waited in the small black boat below. As they rowed toward shore, the area of the cave's entrance became more visible, nestled within the folds of the rocky terrain, seamlessly blending with the surrounding landscape. Vines and cascading branches attached to the rock formations hid the opening. It was still well hidden—even as close as they were. He noticed an outcrop of chalky rock that had formed above the entrance and appreciated having the landmark.

Sin hoped their intelligence reports were correct. The sooner they rescued Robinson, the sooner he could get home to see Lizzie, tell her about her brother, and hopefully discuss their future.