Beyond a Doubt(5)
Chapter Eight
Lucy sat with her arms folded across her chest and her back stiff. The awkward position almost caused them to lose their balance more than once. Bryce tried to explain but Lucy wouldn’t listen. People frown on attempted killing. The only way to ensure her safety and help her reach London alive was to leave.
With a considerable distance placed between them and Emmett’s home, Bryce stopped the horse and dismounted. Lucy didn’t move a muscle as he stalked away and entered the woods.
He found a stick around six feet in length and used a dagger to sharpen it. Hidden beside trees and amongst bushes, Bryce waited. Within minutes the sound of an animal scurrying filled the silent forest.
Bryce jabbed the point of the stick into a squirrel. The animal convulsed and died. Removing the makeshift spear, Bryce hoped to find another but the sound of a feminine voice calling his name sent all the animals into hiding.
Picking up the meal by the scruff of its neck, Bryce carried it back to his waiting companion.
“Where have you been? How dare you leave me here alone? What if — if a thief came upon me?”
Bryce shrugged.
“Oh, and that has to end.”
He cocked his brow.
“That too! I can’t stand your wordless actions a moment longer.”
“I’ve caught supper. We will settle here for the night.”
Lucy stumbled and stuttered to make more words, until she clamped her lips into a thin line.
Camp set for the night, Bryce cleaned and cooked the squirrel. After eating, they laid their bedrolls close to the fire.
Worry gnawed at Bryce. He could hide his intentions no longer; he needed to tell Lucy about his plans.
“Miss, I know I offered to help ye but Carlisle is as far as I can go.”
“Is this because of the incident with the herbs and us almost getting killed by those people? I’m sorry about that. You see, there was very little in the kitchen to work with. Besides, Doreen faked her symptoms. It serves her right if she had a bit of a stomachache. That was probably more movement than the woman has suffered in quite some time.”
“Nay, that is not the reason,” he interrupted.
“Then why?”
“Because I want to go home. I want to return to Cameron lands. To Crissy, to my sheep. London is a mite further than I can go. But I’m sure someone in Carlisle will be more than happy to take ye on to yer destination.”
“But—“
“Carlisle is as far as I go.”
Chapter Nine
“Gustav?”
“Jean, I’m afraid the news is not good.”
“L.L. escaped.”
“Thank God.”
“But then disappeared,” said Gustav.
“What?” asked Jean.
“Agents found the trunk in a London slum. And before you ask, it was empty.”
“Unbelievable,” said Jean as he paced the room in an agitated manner. Stopping in mid-stride, he added, “This means we are at the beginning. And you are still telling me we have no idea whether the Admiral is in danger?”
“Sir, begging your pardon, but the Admiral is in danger by merely living. He is a Huguenot.”
“Hush! Never speak those words aloud.”
Gustav bowed.
“Now I say again, currently we do not know if the Admiral is in danger by attending this meeting.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Am I correct in assuming you ripped the trunk apart inch by inch?” asked Jean.
“Aye.”
“Thank you. You are dismissed.”
“But—“
Jean interrupted, “Do you have more to share?”
“Nay. But will we wait for L.L. to arrive or cancel the event now?”
“We wait. But time is running out. The Admiral refuses to cancel the event even if it puts his life in danger. Our only hope is that L.L. arrives with the details before the event occurs.”
“I know.”
“Gustav, you must find L.L.. Otherwise the Admiral could die and our cause will be lost.”
Gustav nodded as he left the room. His feet slapped the floor as he rushed to his quarters within the large government house. The chest belonging to L.L. had been retrieved and disassembled. If any message had been placed in the trunk, it was now long gone.
Deep in thought, he paced. L.L. had always been his best agent. Messages received were accurate and reliable without fail. What could have happened this time to delay the information?
No matter, Gustav needed answers. The trunk had been found in the possession of a con artist named Charles Dubois. The London gaol held Charles and awaited Gustav’s orders.
He sighed. He would need to travel to London in order to question the man.
A boat ride across the English Channel. The mere thought made his stomach queasy. He threw a bag upon the bed. Haphazardly, Gustav tossed articles of clothing within its confines. With less than a few weeks left to find L.L. and return with the vital information, time was of the essence.
A hack waited outside. He climbed in and yelled to the driver. “To the docks.”
The ship's crew waited in anticipation of his arrival. Once he boarded the bobbing vessel, it cast off. The rocking immediately sent him to the side as he turned green. This was set to be a long trip.
Chapter Ten
The copse of trees did little to shelter Bryce and Lucy from the rain and wind. The meal of squirrel and wild greens digested quickly, leaving a raw ache in her stomach. An ungrateful feeling swelled within her breast. Here she sat within the hull of an ancient tree with a good-looking hulk of an individual, and the man was preoccupied with his nails, or something of the sort.
Bryce had stared at his hands for hours. He twisted them this way and that as if his fascination with them could not be gotten over.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
He raised his blue eyes to her level and she gulped. A lady could quickly become lost in their ocean-blue depths.
“Nay.”
She fidgeted, her nerves causing her to talk more than she liked. “I only ask because you’ve been doing nothing but staring upon your hands since the rain began.”
He shrugged, that infernal up and down movement.
“Tell me about her,” Lucy asked.
“Who?”
“Your girl. The one you’re pining for.”
“Oh, Crissy.”
“Aye.”
He studied the backs of his hands once more.
The rain beat a steady tattoo against the canopy above, finally broken by his voice.
“Well, she’s a hearty lass. Full figured, with lots to hold onto. She’s tough but fair. Everyone has supped at her table at least once.”
“She sounds interesting. I’d like to meet her.”
“Crissy would like ye. She has a heart of gold.”
“Where is she?”
“On Cameron lands.”
“Is she waiting for you?”
“Aye, well, I think she is.”
“What do you mean? You don’t know?”
“We’ve never spoken words of commitment.”
“What? You mean you have no promise from this woman? Why not?”
“Don’t know.”
“I hope you didn’t shrug when she tried to communicate.”
Her pleasure abounded at Bryce’s happy reaction to this statement. A hint of a smile lifted the corners of his lips. Lucy settled herself more comfortably upon the bed of grass.
“Does it always rain in Scotland?”
“Nay.”
“Well, pardon me if I don’t believe you. The weather, in my opinion, is unpredictable at best and abominable at worst. It is always cold and wet.”
“Cold?”
“Aye, cold.”
“May I ask where ye are from? I detect an accent.”
“Humph. Accent indeed. If you must know, I’m a mix. British by birth but raised in France.”
“Is France warm?”
“Well, not exactly. It’s just—“
“That ye like to complain,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.
If not for the grin, Lucy might have taken offense. “Bryce Cameron, kind sir, you are lucky to have met me rather than others within my station. I complain much less than some I know.”
He cocked a brow.
Lucy played with the folds in her dress. “Of course, if I’m honest, I am lucky to find one such as yourself, willing to escort my person such a great distance.”
Appearing pleased by the added words, Bryce lay down. He crossed his feet at the ankles, his hands buried beneath his head; the man appeared ready for a nice long nap. Perhaps she should join him.