A Wedding In Springtime(98)

“Think nothing of it. I cannot imagine why he would target you to suffer his rudeness.”

“I walked here without my maid,” admitted Genie.

“Oh, my dear girl. I do hope you have not suffered any rough language.”

“I shall survive.”

“Let me take you home at once.” Blakely held out his arm and Genie stood and took it.

“I would like to settle our business,” said Genie.

“Yes, of course. If you have whatever it is you need to give to him, let us go at once.”

Genie hesitated but nodded. It would be best to get the business completed and she did not wish to walk back home by herself. Blakely had every incentive to see her deliver the letter to the Candyman. All he wanted was the money, and she was his ticket to getting paid. She figured he would be happy to keep her safe at least until he got his money. If he decided to abandon her at the chocolate shop, she could always walk herself home. It would be only slightly longer than walking home from Hookham’s and at least the business would be resolved, even if she had to endure glares and the occasional lewd comment to do it.

Blakely helped her into his coach and gave the direction to his driver. Genie hoped the journey would not be long. It was impossible to make conversation with the man who was the cause of so much distress, even if he was trying to be pleasant.

“Come to think of it, there is no real need for you to come inside,” said Blakely mildly. “I can handle the details if you wish. You wait in the carriage.”

“I should like to ensure everything is completed,” said Genie as the coach rolled to a stop in front of the chocolate shop.

“I suggest we trade envelopes. You hold this, which declares your brother’s debts cleared and I will take in your envelope to the Candyman. If everything is fine, I will take you home.”

Genie hesitated. If the Candyman opened the envelope, he would certainly discover all was not fine. Yet she could not see how standing before him would improve her situation.

“Yes, all right.” She accepted the letter from him and placed it in her reticule, pulling out the letter with the red seal. When she removed it from her bag, her last farthing caught on the seal and fell to the floor of the coach.

Blakely took the sealed letter with a wide grin and bent down to pick up the coin. “Here, allow me.” He tried to pick up the coin but finding it too difficult with gloves, he whisked off one of the gloves and picked up the coin holding it out to her.

Genie held out her hand, but as he gave the coin to her, she noticed his hands, covered in red scars. She had seen those hands before. She stared at Blakely’s face; it couldn’t be, and yet, she could see it now.

Blakely narrowed his eyes. “On second thought, you had better come in with me.”

Genie shook her head.

“Oh, but I insist.” Blakely pulled a small, dark handkerchief from his pocket.

Genie dove for the door on the opposite side but was caught from behind and pulled back into the coach. Something went over her mouth, her lungs burned, and everything went dark.

***

“Wake up!”

Genie awoke in a dark place with a damp chill to the air. She lifted her head slowly, only to find she was tied to a chair. Around her was blackness, a single lantern on a table the only light.

“Where is it?” demanded Blakely. “Where is the code? I told you to bring me the letter with the red seal in the duke’s safe!”

Genie tested her bounds, but she was tied securely. “You are the Candyman, the moneylender!”

“And you are too smart for your own good.”

“But why? Why wear a disguise and pretend to be a moneylender. What kind of a gentleman are you?”

Blakely smiled. “I am no gentleman at all.”

“What do you mean? I was assured Mr. Blakely owns a respectable estate in the country.”

“He does, or shall I say did. But I am not Mr. Blakely.”

Genie shuddered from the chill creeping through her. “But you… who are you?”

“I have been known by many names. I would say I was at your service, but we both know it would be a lie. All you need to know is that I am devoted to seeing my homeland thrive under the rule of Napoleon and have no scruples when it comes to achieving my goal.” He smiled, but his eyes were cold.

“I don’t understand.”

“No, of course not. But what you think is of little value and no importance.”