Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie Page 28

  She swallowed hard, shame forcing her eyes down. She and Rafe were in danger, but Lisette still experienced deep humiliation over her husband’s activities. Daniel cavorted with a paramour. He set up house with her a world away.

  “It’s none of your concern. And I have no knowledge of the other letters.”

  “I see.” Reynaud lifted the curtain to peer outside. “We have left the city, and we are clear to settle this matter as I should have done months ago.”

  He signaled the driver to stop the carriage.

  Fear sliced through her heart. “What are you going to do? Please, Rafe needn’t be involved.”

  “I intend to dispatch with my blackmailer once and for all,” Reynaud said.

  Monsieur Baptiste grinned, baring his teeth. “Splendid. You should deal with her brother at the same time.”

  “I believe Monsieur Baptiste wishes you dead, madame.” Reynaud’s eyes widened with surprise, but the hard glint there betrayed him. He was not amused nor caught unaware.

  Thirty-three

  Isaac’s complexion had lost color, leaving him cold and pale as marble.

  “Sera, go for help.” His voice came out hoarse and gravelly.

  When he had attempted to stand with Serafine’s help a moment ago, his knees had buckled. She pushed from the floor, and with one more glance over her shoulder at Isaac, she dashed from the room.

  In the corridor, she searched for someone, anyone who might offer assistance, but the area was deserted. She grasped the balustrade to steady her descent and galloped down the stairs. The morning light blinded her when she burst outside, and she stopped on the walkway to allow her eyes to adjust.

  Down the block, a gentleman hobbled along the walkway, supporting his weight on his cane. He would be no help. Serafine intended to rush past him, but he stepped into her path.

  “Egads! You are bleeding, miss. Allow me to assist you.”

  “My betrothed is injured above stairs. I must find a doctor.”

  The gentleman sucked in a sharp breath and took off in a half-hop walk toward the street away from her. Just as she had anticipated. He would not be any assistance.

  Serafine spotted another gentleman preparing to climb into a carriage. Lifting her skirts, she ran to intercept him. “Monsieur! Monsieur, please wait.”

  The man turned to her with wide eyes then scrambled inside and slammed the door. The liveried footman barred her from approaching the carriage door. “Stand down, miss.”

  “Monsieur, please. My betrothed requires assistance. He needs a surgeon.”

  The gentleman peered out the window. “It’s a ploy. Be watchful for her accomplices.”

  The servant placed a large hand in the middle of her chest and shoved. Serafine stumbled backward and lost her footing, but a pair of firm arms caught her from behind. She banged against an even firmer chest.

  “Now, see here, Chester Newbury,” an angry voice at her ear commanded. “I won’t allow you to disrespect a lady. What is the meaning of this outrage?”

  The gentleman in the carriage poked his head out the window. “Lord Ellis. The lady is with you?” Monsieur Newbury looked like a slap-cheeked boy, duly chastised for unbecoming behavior. “I thought she meant to distract me whilst a pickpocket liberated my blunt.”

  “For shame, Newbury. The lady is finely attired and obviously no threat.”

  Serafine struggled from the gentleman’s hold and turned to face him. “Please, I need assistance, sir.”

  “Upon my honor!” Another gentleman approached from the coffeehouse at the far corner. It was Lord Westin. “Mademoiselle Vistoire, you’re covered in blood. What has happened?”

  “My lord!” She nearly leapt into his arms, she was so relieved to see a familiar face. “It’s Monsieur Tucker. He has been stabbed. Please, I need your help.”

  “Where is he?” Lord Westin allowed Serafine to drag him along the walkway toward the building where Isaac lay injured. The elderly gentleman with the cane hobbled toward them, his cane clicking against the cobblestone street. “I have sent for a doctor. Where is your betrothed?”

  Serafine pointed. “Above stairs.”

  Lords Westin and Ellis dashed inside and up the flight of stairs ahead of her. By the time she reached the back room, the gentlemen had moved Isaac to the bed. Lord Ellis pressed against his wound.

  Isaac turned his head toward her and offered a weak smile. “Sera.”

  She rushed to his side to hold his hand. “The doctor is coming. You’ll be fine.” She didn’t know if she spoke the truth, but if her sheer will could determine one’s fate, Isaac would live to be a centenarian.

  He squeezed her hand in response, but he was weak. “Madame Hillary should be warned.”

  “Good heavens, yes.” Serafine had forgotten about her cousin with Isaac slipping through her fingers, but Lisette could be in danger.

  Lord Westin knelt at her side. His intense blue eyes met hers. “Tell me what is wrong.”

  She briefly retold the story of Monsieur Baptiste’s interests and gains if Lisette and Rafe were dead, as well as his hand in blackmailing Reynaud. “I don’t understand it all, but I know Monsieur Baptiste is a threat to my family’s well-being. And Captain Hillary set sail this morning.”

  Lord Westin bolted from the floor and started toward the door. “I’ll carry word to her at once.”

  ***

  Daniel trotted up the staircase leading to his wife’s chambers. He anticipated doing a fair amount of groveling before Lisette forgave him. He would expect nothing less of his proud wife, nor would he wish her to be any different. It was her strength of conviction that had appealed to him from the moment of their first encounter in New Orleans. Fortunately, she possessed a generosity of spirit as well, and he hoped she would have compassion for him.

  He knocked once on her chamber door before barreling inside. The newest chambermaid squealed in fright, clutching the counterpane to her chest and upsetting the bed she had just made.

  “Captain Hillary.” The young girl curtsied like a new filly adjusting to her gangly legs. “Sir, greetings, sir.”

  He grinned in an attempt to ease her discomfort. “I’m seeking Mrs. Hillary. Do you know of her whereabouts?”

  “No, sir. She had breakfast with Master Rafe this morning. Perhaps she is upstairs.”

  Daniel left the maid to her work. A moment later, he barged into the schoolroom and startled Miss Channing. The space was empty aside from the governess and her book.

  “Pardon the intrusion. I’m looking for my wife. Have you seen her?”

  Miss Channing stared at him, her eyes bulging. “They have gone to the docks to see you, sir. Mr. Baptiste accompanied them.”

  His grin widened. Lisette was on her way to convince him to stay. She should be pleased he made the decision without her applying pressure.

  “Our carriages probably passed one another on the street. Thank you.”

  Bidding Miss Channing good day, he sauntered downstairs to his study to wait for Lisette’s return. No sooner did he pour himself a brandy than there was a knock at his door.

  “Enter.” He took a swig from his snifter.

  His butler opened the door a crack, and Daniel waved him inside. Ned approached him to speak discreetly. He didn’t know why the man bothered with protocol after years under his employ, but it was for the best. Now that Daniel was becoming a respectable gent with a wife and family, he required respectable servants.

  “’Tis Lord Westin requesting an audience with Mrs. Hillary. He says it is a matter of urgency.”

  Devil take it. Daniel hadn’t been gone from home for a day and the dandies were already calling on Lisette. He hadn’t expected it of Westin, though, the bloody scoundrel.

  “Show him in.”

  A moment later, the marquess stalked into Daniel’s study with a somber expression. “Hillary, I heard you’d left London.”

  “So I gathered.” He flexed his fingers.

  “Thank God Mademoiselle
Vistoire was mistaken. I just left her.”

  Daniel’s fist loosened. “Has something happened to Serafine?”

  “She’s unharmed, but I’m to warn your wife to steer clear of Mr. Baptiste. Miss Vistoire and Mr. Tucker had an encounter with a blackguard named Reynaud today. She believes he and Baptiste are conspiring together and wish to bring harm to your family.”

  All the air whooshed from Daniel’s lungs. He couldn’t breathe.

  “Mr. Tucker is gravely wounded.” Westin sounded far away, as if speaking from the opposite end of a tunnel. “Hillary, did you hear me? Good God, man. Are you going to faint like a chit?”

  The marquess rushed forward to help support Daniel’s weight.

  A chit? Daniel pushed him away. “Don’t be ridiculous. Let me be.”

  Westin stepped back.

  “Southampton,” Daniel mumbled. Reynaud would have docked in the closest port. If the Mihos had docked in London, Daniel would have known. He must go after her.

  “What about Southampton?” Westin asked.

  “Reynaud may have my wife and her brother. He’ll try to leave England, but his ship will be in Southampton.” With his bearings straight, he hurried from the study with Westin on his heels.

  “Send for a horse from the mews immediately,” Daniel commanded his butler and continued to the staircase.

  “I’ll accompany you,” Westin said.

  He rounded on the marquess. “This isn’t your concern.”

  “Allow me to assist for Mademoiselle Vistoire’s sake, if not your own.” Westin opened one side of his jacket to reveal a holstered pistol. “I’m an excellent marksman.”

  What manner of man carried a firearm about Town? One who found danger invigorating. Westin would have been well suited for the life of a military man if not for the unfortunate condition of his birth.

  “This isn’t a fox hunt or raucous adventure. My family’s life may be in jeopardy.”

  “I comprehend the gravity of the situation. Did I mention I am exceptionally skilled with firearms?”

  Daniel sighed. He would be a fool to turn away the man’s assistance. “Send for two horses,” he called to his servant as he started up the stairs. “I must arm myself as well. Try to avoid shooting any of my staff while I’m gone, Westin.”

  The marquess chuckled. “As you wish.”

  Thirty-four

  Lisette’s mouth was as dry as cotton, and her thoughts weaved together into a jumbled mess. An unnatural calm had descended over Rafe, so that he sat beside her in silence, his unblinking eyes trained to the countryside out the window. There would be no escaping from Reynaud this time, no assistance from anyone. Could she reason with a lunatic?

  She reached a hand toward him, forcing herself to use his given name. “I swear to you, Louis. I’ve never seen those letters before today.”

  Reynaud grasped her fingers and lifted them to his lips. Her skin crawled and she struggled with the urge to snatch her hand from his.

  “Save your lies, Lisette,” Monsieur Baptiste snapped. “Exit the carriage as you have been ordered to do.”

  Reynaud frowned at Monsieur Baptiste. “Please, exit the carriage. Have you abandoned all pretenses at civilization, sir? She remains a lady. Treat her as one.”

  Reynaud released her hand then bent forward to withdraw a knife from his boot. When he flicked his wrist in the direction of the door, a shaft of light glinted off the knife’s blade. “Go on, my dear. I’m anxious to have this behind me so I may leave this godforsaken country.”

  Her immediate inclination was to stall, but their only possible route of escape would be outside the carriage. She nudged her brother. “Climb out, Rafe. It’s all right. I will be behind you.”

  He did as she requested without protest. The dried grass under Lisette’s boots crunched as she joined him on the side of the road. Rafe cuddled against her, hiding his face against the bodice of her gown. Her gaze darted around for a place to hide if they broke free.

  The sound of water in the distance alerted her that the river was close. Rafe wasn’t a strong swimmer, and Lisette wasn’t strong enough to assist him, but the wooded area between the road and water might provide shelter.

  The driver climbed from the box. “Whas the trouble? We ain’t close ta the coachin’ inn yet.”

  Reynaud had sheathed his knife, and he aimed a warning look at Lisette before offering a disarming smile to the driver. “My wife insists we are on the brink of losing a wheel. Apparently, her backside is more sensitive to shimmies than the average lady.”

  “Ye don’t say.” The driver leered at her, cackling at her expense. No telling what lewd thoughts crossed his mind at the mention of her backside.

  You fool. She clamped her lips together and narrowed her eyes.

  “It’s the left front wheel,” Reynaud said. “Perhaps we could check it to offer her peace of mind.”

  What trick was this? “Wait,” she blurted. “I’m fine, really. Just a case of female hysteria. Silly of me.”

  Reynaud winked as if sharing a joke with the driver. “And she will have another fit of hysteria not a mile down the road if we don’t check now.” He guided the driver around the back of the carriage and out of sight.

  “Nothin’ ’pears amiss,” the driver said.

  The sounds of a scuffle carried on the air, followed by a low grunt. The driver landed in the lane with a loud thud.

  Sweet Mary. Reynaud truly planned to kill them. Lisette eased Rafe farther away from the road.

  “Merde,” Monsieur Baptiste muttered and raked his fingers through his thin hair, his eyes bulging.

  Reynaud rounded the carriage.

  “What the hell are you thinking?” Monsieur Baptiste nearly screeched. “We can’t leave a trail of bodies across England.”

  “The driver was a witness. I could either chase him down, risking injury to myself and frightening the man, or handle him as I did.” Reynaud’s lip curled as he advanced. “You knew I was a killer when you set everything into motion, Baptiste. I daresay you raised no protest when I rid you of Robert Lavigne.”

  Lisette gasped. Surely, she had misheard. “You had Papa killed?”

  “No!” Monsieur Baptiste tugged his earlobe and backed up a step. “I—I had no hand in Robert’s death.”

  Reynaud continued his advance. “So you say.”

  “For the love of God, I was in Boston.”

  Reynaud bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile. “Quite right. Lavigne was the one with the audacity to blackmail me, nearly drained my coffers. His actions led to his demise.”

  A fierce protectiveness reared inside Lisette, giving her courage to speak out. “Papa would never do such a thing. He was a gentle and kind man, not a cowardly thief. Papa had no cause to extort money from anyone. The farm and mill are prosperous.”

  “Madame poses an excellent point,” Reynaud said. “When I made inquiries into Lavigne’s profits, his earnings were respectable, even at eighty percent ownership.”

  Monsieur Baptiste’s gaze locked on Reynaud, and he retreated another step. “She’s lying to cover up her involvement. You saw she had possession of your letters.”

  “Yes,” he hissed, advancing on Baptiste. “And your task was to locate my property. You had ample time to search the ship and Captain Hillary’s town house, and yet you brought me nothing until today. She must be a clever wench to have hidden them so well.”

  Lisette nudged Rafe toward the trees while the men were focused on each other. Reynaud brandished his knife, crouching low as if to pounce. “My letters were under your nose, Baptiste, or more aptly, under your arse. I found them hidden beneath your mattress.”

  Reynaud launched at him with a feral growl. Monsieur Baptiste fumbled with his coat.

  Lisette shoved her brother. “Run!”

  A loud crack rent the air, the sound of a gunshot echoing off the rolling hills.

  Lifting her skirts, Lisette ran after Rafe. “Head for the trees.”

  Her
brother entered the thicket at a full run and disappeared for a moment. Monsieur Baptiste had discharged his one shot, which meant she had a chance of mounting a defense if he had survived the encounter. But if Reynaud had survived…

  She shuddered. She must find a safe place for Rafe to hide.

  Inside the dense copse, she caught up to Rafe and spotted a tree lying on its side. Vines wove through the dead branches as if devouring the fallen giant, their copious teardrop leaves creating an additional visual barrier. She captured Rafe’s hand and pulled him behind the brush.

  “Get down,” she whispered then crouched beside him. “You must stay hidden, no matter what happens.”

  His amber eyes turned up to her. “But I have to take care of you. The captain said.”

  Daniel. His name alone made her throat ache with unshed tears. The Cecily would be at sea. Lisette may never see her husband again. Hugging Rafe close, she placed a kiss on his dark hair. She couldn’t think of Daniel now, not when her brother’s life was in danger.

  “You must stay hidden.” The stubborn tightening of his jaw made her belly twist. “Rafe, please. Stay down. You cannot leave your hiding spot. That’s the only way I’ll be safe.”

  The tight lines around his mouth relaxed and he nodded slowly. “I will help you.”

  Lisette released a relieved breath. “Yes, stay put and help me.”

  She stood and searched the area for a weapon. Fallen limbs covered the ground of the wooded sanctuary, and she lifted one to test its weight. Rotted on the inside, it crumbled when she knocked it against the tree trunk.

  “Lisette,” Baptiste yelled out. “Rafe. Come out of hiding, children.”

  She discarded the useless club and snatched another. The bark fell away, exposing smooth, hard wood underneath. Her fingers gripped it firmly.

  “Stay here no matter what.” She dashed through the trees to lead their pursuer away from her brother.

  Branches snapped as she tromped on them, giving away her location.