Beyond a Doubt(14)
A smile tugged at the corners of Jean’s lips. “Indeed.” With a thoughtful expression on his face, Jean lifted his finger as if he’d had an epiphany. He bellowed, “James!”
A small bowed-over man rushed to the door. He wore wrinkled, overly large clothing and seemed to have a difficult time staying upright because of the pointed shoes he wore.
“James, send word to Joshua that we will meet at a place of his choosing.”
The man scrunched his nose, twitched his lips, nodded, and scurried away like a tiny mouse.
“That should do it. Now we wait.”
And wait they did. Jean had chewed his nails down to nothing and Gustav wouldn’t have been surprised if the man hadn’t asked to borrow his with which to do the same.
When word came of the meeting place, Jean jumped to his feet, grabbed his coat, and ran toward the door. The nervous delivery boy stuttered out the instructions and Jean put his coat back in place and resumed chewing the skin on his fingers.
“This is unconscionable. First the man makes us wait for days, and then his message is to attend a royal ball. And one where the King will be in attendance.”
“Less likely to arouse suspicion that way,” Gustav stated.
“Agreed, but still, to walk into a snake’s den and portray yourself as a tasty rat doesn’t seem wise.”
“I’m sure Joshua knows what he is doing or he wouldn’t have been alive so long.”
“And just how long is that, Gustav? We don’t know if this is Joshua number one or number one hundred! Why, the very idea of giving the same name to your agents is outrageous.”
“Whatever the number, sir, they continue to protect our interests and our kind.”
Jean nodded and the discussion ended. The two of them dressed befitting royalty and left for the ball that afternoon. Instead of holding the festivities at Caen Castle, the event would occur in the courtyard of Hotel d’Escoville. The large archways, huge stone pillars, and detailed sculptures were decorated for the evening’s event.
In honor of King Henry II and his son Francis’ visit to Caen, the local nobles had arranged the ball. For most, the event was an honorable occasion. But for a few, those who believed in a controversial religion, the Catholic King and his presence only meant danger.
Jean Broussard and Gustav arrived in a gilded carriage. Jean was wearing a suit of maroon velvet. His jacket was trimmed in a thick gold cord and secured by glittering gold buttons. Instead of wearing his Venetian chopines, he wore a more rounded shoe convenient for dancing.
Gustav had gone with a simpler look, a suit of pale blue linen trimmed in silver. He pulled back his light brown hair with a silver ribbon. He passed by a mirror and smiled at his reflection. In the moonlight his green eyes glowed like emeralds. Too bad this trip wasn’t for pleasure. Giggling maids passed and Gustav tipped an imaginary hat, sending the lot of them into a tizzy.
“Do try to focus.”
“I’m always focused.”
Jean rolled his eyes and shook his head. “How will we find Joshua in this influx of bodies? It will be quite impossible.”
“I’m sure we need not worry.”
Gustav was right. After snacking for hours upon the buffet tables, and dancing until his feet grew sore, Gustav found a place outside, leaned against the wall, and rested. A server approached him. The man, covered in plain gray and light blue livery, blended in with the outside scenery.
“Psst.”
Gustav answered out of the corner of his mouth. “Aye?”
“You asked to speak with someone. They await ye outside.”
The man disappeared. Gustav rose from his relaxed position and headed to the garden. With all the guests, Joshua was almost impossible to discern. Had the man not spoken, Gustav wouldn’t have located him at all.
“Do not turn around, do not speak, only listen. You are searching for L.L. And you wish to discover if I know the agent’s whereabouts. All I can tell you is the agent and I cross paths somewhere in London within the coming week. I attend parties, public events, and follow a planned schedule. Through these events I’m contacted. Never the same way twice and never in person. I know you thought I could reveal L.L.’s identity but I’m afraid I can’t help you. However, here is a list of my itinerary for next week’s London visit.”
Gustav caught the paper as it fluttered to the ground. When he looked up Joshua was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Six
On their last day of the two hundred mile journey from Carlisle to London, Lucy sat by a small lake. The water was covered by fog. A cool wind passed her way, sending a chill down her spine. She pulled the shawl tighter around her trembling frame.
“Are ye ready?”
As ready as she would ever be, Lucy climbed astride the horse and they rode into the abandoned streets. Eerily quiet in the wee morning hours, London reminded her of a graveyard.
The large house stared at her, opposing, ominous, and dark. A secret key was hidden in a pot on the porch.
She opened the door and dusty sheets billowed with the burst of air. Lucy headed to the windows and jerked open curtains, allowing rays of sunlight to stream through the dirt-covered panes.
“Is this yer home?”
Bryce’s voice startled her. Before she could answer, the sound of an alarm drew her attention. A tiny brass clock rested upon the mantel, its alarm blaring. When the noise stopped, Lucy left the room and ran through the house.
She checked every room, ending back where she started. Lucy frowned.
“What is it?” he asked.
“The clock. It chimed. That only happens so long before it has to be rewound. And I’ve been gone a long time.”
“Do ye want me to search the house?”
Lucy shook her head. “No one is here. Maybe the spring stuck again and delayed the alarm. That happens sometimes.” She said the words but she didn’t believe them. Gnawing her lip, she studied Bryce. Could he tell she doubted her own explanation?
Bryce didn’t ask any more questions and Lucy was grateful. Leading him through the hallway, she picked a room for his stay. He hesitated but finally went inside with his meager belongings. Bryce scratched his head, then he placed his hands to his sides, next he moved them to his hips. The palpable awkwardness upset her, but Lucy couldn’t help him right now.
Once Bryce entered his room and turned his back to her, she fled. Inside her old bedroom, she pilfered through drawers. A tiny scrap of paper rubbed her fingertips and she grabbed it, squeezing it tightly in her hand.
They’d done it again. The alarm had been her first clue. The list was all the confirmation she needed.
The parchment contained a full week of activities. Worrying her lip, she studied the information. Instinct caused her to touch the leather pouch. The fan still rested within, poking her through the material.
“Knock, knock.”
Lucy lifted her head, and placed her hand to her wildly beating heart.
“Sorry lass, I didn’t mean to startle ye. I hate to intrude but we need to place the horses in yer stable and then find something to eat. I’m starvin’.”
The smile he displayed kept her worries at bay. Her hand clasped his and she directed him to the kitchen. They checked the cabinets and came up empty.
“Looks like a trip to the market is in order,” she said.
Bryce waited while Lucy raced upstairs. She perused the list. No market day was listed.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she cradled her head in her hands. Her belly growled but she ignored the hunger pains. New worries beset her troubled mind. Like how to deliver her message without alerting Bryce?
If he knew what she planned, he would never approve.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The market was hectic. People threw packages of raw meat over Lucy and Bryce’s heads. Hawkers stood beside stands and argued loudly over the price of every item, from a piece of fruit to a bolt of cloth.
Packs of raw vegetables and a loaf of bread lay in Bryce's arms. Normally a man who enjoyed vast quantities of meat, Bryce would willingly give up his favorite food to leave this place behind.
Lucy slid through the crowd with ease. Her short stature and tiny frame allowed her to maneuver through the people and stalls. The largeness of his own body created a problem in the tight quarters. At one point the lass escaped his vision and an onset of trepidation took hold.
Taller than most individuals, Bryce scanned the ground from above. When he spotted a head of brown hair, he saw that it was Lucy haggling over a handful of apples. Bryce moved closer.
“Too much.”
“Nay, if you don’t buy it someone else will.”
“I doubt it. Everything here is bruised and half-rotted. You’ll be lucky if you can give this stuff away.”
When she turned her back to leave, the man called out, agreeing to her stated price. A smile of satisfaction flitted across her face as she added yet another item to Bryce's arms, already full of food.