Beyond a Doubt(12)

The dust the horse kicked up showed a clear line of where to go. Urging his mount, Bryce worked to control his heart rate.

What in the world had happened? Lucy was supposed to be on her way to London, not slung over the side of a horse being carted away by some unknown man!

Bryce kicked his horse’s flank, insisting on increased speed. Time ticked painfully by. Slowly Bryce closed the distance between himself, and Lucy and the man on horseback. Within a few minutes their horses raced side-by-side.

“Halt!”

The man’s head leaned back and loud crazed laughter left his lips as his horse shot ahead. Agitated, Bryce raked his hand through his hair. The ribbon holding his hair back fell amongst the shrubs on the ground, becoming trampled in the mud. What could he do? To force man and beast to stop might bring harm to Lucy.

Ahead of him loomed a large grassy field. Could he be lucky enough to come alongside and knock the rider down alone? Or would this action cause injury to Lucy? There was no time to think of another plan; this was his only option.





Chapter Twenty-Two




Per Gustav’s instructions, Charles Dubois was released from prison. Not willing to leave anything to chance, Gustav tailed the man himself.

After a day and a half, Gustav felt as if he’d been led on a merry goose chase. Charles had crossed the city multiple times, yet never stayed in the same place more than once.

Each evening, Monsieur Dubois would attend a soiree that lasted all night. The following morning, he would leave in an enclosed carriage belonging to some young woman of substantial means. The vehicle would then transport the couple to her abode where Charles would stay for the daylight hours. In the evening he would bound down the stairs, adjust his clothing, and find another party to attend.

For a week, the routine never varied. Then one night, quite unexpectedly, the routine changed. The party ended and Charles came out alone. He wobbled in a drunken stupor. For two blocks the man seemed unaware, like a primitive animal. Then completely out of his current character, he called a hackney to his side. The carriage drove at a fast clipped pace and enacted multiple turns, as if navigating a maze. Finally the carriage drew to a halt outside the fancy hotel that contained the trunk.

Gustav grinned as he followed Charles into the hotel, keeping his distance until Charles entered his old room. Hidden outside in the hallway, he waited. The noises within consisted of banging, thumping, and a certain amount of cursing. Obviously Charles was having no better luck than Gustav had had in searching the trunk.

When Charles left, Gustav hesitated. The trunk rested within the confines of the room. Should he stay and search it once more or should he follow and see where the man led him?

****

All this work for nothing. Countless hours wooing beautiful women, courting nobles, and flattering the worthless. For what?

The alley was dark. The clicking sound of shoes echoed across the stones. How long had Charles waited for his contact? Regardless, he would wait only a few moments more. The cold, damp air wasn’t good for a person. Next time they should take better care to be on time.

“Did you get it?”

The unexpected voice from behind caused Charles to jerk and turn around. “Must you always sneak up on me?”

The newcomer shrugged, repeating, “Well, did you get it?”

“Nay.”

“What! The boss won’t be pleased.” He picked between yellowed teeth, a grin of delight flitting across his wrinkled face. “Nay, he will not be pleased. Especially after you tried to convince him you were the best. Said you’d never lost a one. Why, I was there when his eyebrow rose up to his hairline in doubt and you kept saying they were all wrong. You claimed superiority over all others. Charged a pretty price for your expertise, you did. And now we’ve discovered your miserable failure.”

“Who says I failed?” asked Charles, straightening his spine with false bravado.

“Well, it’s obvious. Otherwise you would have contacted us earlier.”

“I’m afraid earlier contact was quite impossible.”

The man’s head twisted fiercely. “You fool!”

Before Charles’ words of reassurance could be heard, the newcomer turned on his heel and fled, leaving Charles to gawk at his retreating form.

****

How could the man be so stupid as to lead someone to their meeting place? The rumors of Charles’ temporary imprisonment had been correct. French agents were no doubt on the trail even as they spoke.

Using his sleeve, he swabbed at the yellow covering his teeth. Removing his hat and shirt, he left them in the sewage which flowed along the city streets. A cane rested beside a set of stairs. Grabbing the instrument, his spine erect, he strode with purpose, confident his disguise would not be recognized as he headed back to the inn. As he walked, he mulled over the words he would share with his boss.

Success or failure would now depend on Charles Dubois alone. If they continued to associate with the fool, there was little doubt they would be implicated in the plot. Letting Charles believe he worked for the good of the Crown would be enough to drive the man. Besides, every now and then a monarch needed a sacrifice to perpetuate their reign.





Chapter Twenty-Three




The danger involved caused Bryce to hesitate. Once alongside the fleeing horse, he could see Lucy’s pale face. Her eyes were closed and dried blood clotted on her forehead. Worries shifted. Now Lucy needed off the bobbing horse to ensure she was still alive.

Rearing back, his fist flew through the air and connected with the assailant. The man wobbled and fell off the back of the horse, landing upon the hard earth. Not sparing a backward glance, Bryce grabbed the reins. The beasts stopped. He moved closer to untie Lucy but before he could reach her, he was jerked off Emissary and thrown to the ground. The horse carrying Lucy skidded away, skirting the edge of a deep ravine, and stopped.

Bryce spit dirt from between his teeth. His hand reached out but he was too far away to grasp the fleeing horse.

“That’s me lady.”

Standing upon wobbly legs, Bryce answered, “Nay, she is not.”

“Aye, she is! I won her fair and square. Now ye leave me be or I’ll have to fight ye for her. And I don’t think ye want me to do that.”

“Won her?” asked Bryce incredulously.

“That stupid player wouldn’t know a good card player if it bit him in the aft end. Best hand I ever played.”

Bryce was flabbergasted. The troupe leader had bet Lucy in a card game?

“Now step aside,” the man said, shoving against Bryce’s chest.

“I’m afraid I can’t do such a thing. Ye see, the lass was in my express care. I trusted that group to carry her to London. She was never meant for gambling away.”

“Sorry to hear that. But the lass is mine.”

“What would ye take for her?”

His large head reared back in laughter, only falling forward when Bryce remained silent. He stroked his hand over his dirty beard in thought. “I might play ye a game of cards.”

“But—“

“I know ye are intimidated by my vast skills. But fear not. If ye lose I’ll not take nothin’ else from ye. Ye just allow me to leave with my woman in peace.”

Bryce nodded. As Lucy lay limply upon the grazing horse that stood at a dangerous cliff edge, they played for her. The game finished in a matter of minutes, with Bryce as victor.

“How — but — what, I don’t understand. Ye tricked me!”

“How so?”

“Ye said ye couldn’t play.”

“I said nothing about me playin’ skills.”

The man stalked to his horse. If Bryce hadn’t been close-by, Lucy would have crashed upon the ground when the angry man jerked her bonds and pulled the hem of her gown.

“Take the wench. She probably wouldn’t have been a good wife anyway.”

Bryce cradled Lucy in his arms as the man and his horse trotted away. Bryce laid Lucy tenderly on a soft patch of green grass. For the longest time, Bryce stared at her purple-tinged face. Gently he used his fingertips to smooth back her hair. Whispered words in the form of a prayer fell from his lips.

Then a miracle happened. Her eyelids fluttered opened. Her brown orbs stared at him with a mix of trepidation and relief.

“Bryce?” Her voice cracked as she spoke.

“Aye lass, ye are safe and I won’t leave ye again.”

A sigh escaped her parted lips as unconsciousness overtook her once more.





Chapter Twenty-Four




The first thing she remembered was intense warmth, followed by a pleasing aroma of food wafting through her nostrils. And then there was the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hullo, sleepyhead.”

“Where am I?” Lucy asked.

“In an inn.”

“But how?”