A Wedding In Springtime(99)

“You are French?”

“But of course.”

French? How could she not know? “But your accent. You sound the English gentleman.”

“I am the bastard son of the Duc de Vermette. He was well pleased with me, raised me to the pomp and privilege of the duke’s son, until he remarried and she gave him an heir. She wanted to secure the power and fortune for her own brat, so I was packed off to an English boarding school when I was eight years old.”

“So you have lived in England?”

A cruel glint flashed in his eyes. “I returned to my homeland in time to report my father to the tribunal. I was there when he, his wife, and their nasty son all met their fate courtesy of Madame Guillotine.”

Genie’s pulse raced and she tried to wrench her hands free. He was a monster.

“See how it all worked out for the good? It taught me to value what is truly important in life—money.”

“What is it you want?” whispered Genie.

“Simple. I want the code to find the spies—the letter with the red seal. Marchford has it. I want it. I have been offered a sum of money vast enough to turn the most loyal of hearts. Which, of course, mine never was.”

Blakely pulled a knife from his boot and placed it on the table. “If I am willing to put my own father’s head in the guillotine, just think of what I might do to you. You will tell me what I want to know. Where is the letter with the red seal?”

Genie swallowed hard. She feared she might get caught in her deception, but she had never imagined a scenario such as this. She needed to think fast. He thought her foolish so she could use that. “I went to the duke’s study and opened the safe, just as you told me to. There was only one letter with a red seal. Is this not the red seal you were looking for?”

Blakely shoved the blank paper before her. “It is blank! How do you explain it?”

“I… I did not open the seal.”

“Dammit!” Blakely cursed as he paced back and forth. “I’ve been tricked. It was all a farce. The duke, it is his fault!”

Genie sincerely prayed he would continue to direct his anger toward the duke and away from her.

“I have done everything you asked of me. Please, let me go!” Genie’s voice sounded higher, louder than normal. Fear was making her bold, even as she began to succumb to panic.

“You have seen too much.”

“They will be looking for me.”

“People saw you leave in a coach with Mr. Blakely. I will circulate a rumor that you and Mr. Blakely resolved their differences and eloped.”

“I would never!” cried Genie, forgetting for a moment her actual actions of last night were considerably worse. Had it only been last night? It seemed ages ago that she was held in the strong arms of Grant. The thought brought tears to her eyes.

“Do not cry. I cannot stand blubbering, I warn you,” growled Blakely.

Genie blinked back a retort that he had not been the cause of her tears. She would not waste her energy thinking of him. She scanned the room for some prospect of escape, but they were in a large, dark cellar. Along the walls, she could make out what appeared to be metal cages with piles of rags and debris. In the dim light of the lantern was a hint of movement. Staring back at her through the darkness were several pairs of eyes.





Thirty-three





“Louisa is married?”

“Apparently,” said Marchford carelessly.

Grant frowned. “And the groom?”

“A Dr. Roberts.”

Grant shook his head. “Are mornings always this exciting?”

“Only when you are awake for them,” answered Marchford.

“Then I am cured of ever attempting it again. What are you going to do?”

“Miss Rose has suggested we go round to the good doctor’s residence and see if we can catch them before they flee. I own that I should most likely heed this advice.”

Grant glanced at Miss Rose who was sitting primly on the seat of the phaeton. The two men walked a few steps away, out of earshot. “What of the letter and Miss Talbot?”

Marchford patted his breast coat pocket. “The letter is safe for now. As for Miss Talbot, I fear I am at a loss. Did the servants know anything?”

“The groom drove her to a chocolate shop yesterday, but otherwise, I do not know.”

“Have you any other idea of where she would go? What she would do?” asked Marchford.