Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie Page 29

  “Damnation!” Baptiste shouted and ran her direction. He was old and moved clumsily. Lisette had a substantial lead, and she felt certain he hadn’t seen her yet.

  Locating a fat tree, she took up post behind it and lifted the branch above her head in preparation for attack. Every sound was amplified as she awaited his approach: the rush of water behind her, the call of a raven, the sharp snap of a twig.

  “There are few places to hide, children.” He was still several paces away. “I shan’t hurt you.”

  Ha! She would hardly consider him a reliable bet.

  “Reynaud will no longer hurt you. I’ve taken care of him. Now, please come out of hiding.” Every time he spoke, he gave up his position.

  Lisette’s arms ached and burned with the effort of holding the limb aloft, but she couldn’t lower it. Not now. Not without gaining his notice. The crack of a stick sounded close. Streams of sweat flowed down her face and stung her eyes. Her chest rose and fell in jerky starts and stops, her breathing surely loud enough to announce her location.

  “Where are you, Lisette?” Baptiste’s elongated shadow projected on the leafy floor.

  She waited, trying to judge when he was close enough to strike. Each footfall contained an eternity in between before the tip of the knife surged into view.

  Followed by the blade.

  Then the hilt.

  His wrist.

  Lisette swung the limb downward with a guttural cry and with every ounce of hate inside her for her father’s murderer. Baptiste’s agonized wail filled the air. The knife dropped to the ground and slid along the hard-packed earth.

  Lisette drew the club back and whipped it through the air to bang into his chest. Baptiste toppled backward and landed with a grunt. She scrambled to reach the knife, but he kicked out a leg and entangled her. She stumbled, falling forward. When she connected with the ground, a searing pain shot through her belly and all the breath rushed from her lungs. She gulped several times, struggling to draw a decent breath.

  His hand clamped onto her leg. He dragged her toward him. Lisette clawed at the dirt, but she had nothing with which to gain purchase. Her fingers left paths in the debris. Grabbing her shoulder, he forced her onto her back.

  “No!” She drew her knee up and shot out her heel, smashing into his chin. The blow snapped his head back. Another wild kick connected with his cheek and knocked him to his back. She rolled out of his reach and pushed to her feet.

  Horses’ hooves sounded in the distance, too far away to assist her. She cried out anyway. “Help! Help us!”

  Her foot slid in the leaves when she bent to snag the knife. Regaining her balance, she ran toward the river. Baptiste was slower, but his strength could overpower her. She must get rid of the weapon before he used it on her.

  The riders were closer. “Someone, please! Help!”

  The grass grew tall closer to the water and slowed her strides. Her skirts tangled in branches. Burrs coated the fabric, scratching her legs.

  “Get back here, you bitch.” Baptiste barreled through the undergrowth, bearing down on her. She pulled back her arm and hurled the knife into the midnight waters. A force slammed her from behind and knocked her to the ground.

  Baptiste sat his full weight on her back, crushing her against the earth.

  Lisette pushed with her arms and struggled. A length of cloth went around her neck. He twisted and tugged. Throwing her head back, she connected with his nose.

  “Damn you!”

  He loosened his grip and she clawed at the sash, looping her fingers inside to purchase breathing space.

  Thwack!

  The dreadful squeezing released, and Baptiste’s weight shifted off her. Lisette gasped, each inhalation a sharp stab.

  “Lisette?” Rafe knelt beside her. “I took care of you like the captain said.”

  Panicked, she turned her head to find Baptiste lying in a heap next to her.

  Lisette crawled away, trying to regain her breath. She looked once more at Baptiste. His chest rose and fell with steady regularity. “We have to go quickly before he wakes.” Her voice was no louder than a whisper.

  She struggled to her feet.

  Rafe took her hand and pulled her away from the river. “Do you think Captain Hillary will buy me a cricket bat?”

  “To—to play cricket?”

  He wrinkled his brow as if she’d grown noddy.

  “Lisette!” a voice called from the distance.

  Her heart leapt.

  “Lisette! Rafe! Where are you?” The urgent call came from the direction of the road as they moved out of the tall grass.

  “Daniel.” Her voice was too soft.

  “Over here, Captain,” Rafe bellowed. “We are here.”

  Her husband appeared inside the tree line, breaking into a run when he saw them. “Lisette!” Upon reaching them, Daniel swept her against him. She cried out in pain.

  “Darling, you’re hurt.” He held her at arm’s length, his expression a twisted mask of horror and fury. “Did Baptiste do this to you? Where is he?”

  Another gentleman came up behind Daniel. It was Lord Westin.

  “He is sleeping by the river,” Rafe said and pointed.

  “Please, allow me.” Lord Westin took off for the water’s edge.

  Rafe tugged Daniel’s hand to gain his attention. “I took care of Lisette just like you told me to.”

  Daniel patted his head, his blue eyes misty. “You did a fine job, son.” Gently touching Lisette’s forehead, he grimaced. “I never should have left, Lis. I failed you.”

  Hurt welled up in her chest as Paulina’s letter came back to mind. “You failed me greatly.”

  His stricken expression should have given her satisfaction, but instead she felt more alone than ever.

  Thirty-five

  Daniel’s shoulders heaved with a defeated sigh when Lisette turned away from his embrace.

  She held her head high as she limped to the carriage, but a shudder passed through her when she glanced to where Reynaud lay in the lane.

  “You need to be seen by a doctor,” Daniel called after her. She climbed into the carriage without responding. He had let her down, broken his vow to protect her. His loving wife could have died because of his failure.

  She could have died. The realization hit him like a fist to the gut. Daniel bent at the waist, his hands braced against his knees as he gulped in a great lungful of air.

  But she’s safe. Lisette is safe. The dizziness began to recede and Daniel straightened. He couldn’t allow himself to be crippled by the “what if.” Lisette was safe.

  Rafe’s small fingers wrapped around Daniel’s larger hand and held tight, providing comfort but also driving home the fact of how fragile his family was. He would never leave them again.

  “We should go home so you can see my galleon,” Rafe said.

  Daniel looked down into his innocent eyes. “First-rate suggestion. I look forward to it.”

  They walked hand in hand to the carriage then Daniel lifted him inside. Rafe stretched out on the bench across from Lisette with a yawn. He had been exceptionally brave today, but bravery appeared to have taken its toll.

  Bruises were already forming beneath Lisette’s skin. Daniel reached out to brush his fingers over the hollow of her delicate collarbone, but she scooted out of his reach and looked away.

  The crunch of dried grass made him turn. Westin returned, supporting Baptiste’s weight as he wobbled. White-hot hatred surged through Daniel as he closed the carriage door and stalked toward Baptiste, ready to beat him bloody.

  Westin caught the bugger as he pitched to the left and kept him on his feet. “Whoa, steady there. We don’t want anything happening to you before the hangman gets his noose around your neck.”

  Baptiste turned blurry eyes on Westin. “Does he have my umbrella?”

  Daniel came up short. Umbrella?

  “I told you twice already you have no need for an umbrella today.”

  Baptiste frown
ed. “Very well then. I will have a cup of tea, thank you.”

  The marquess shrugged as they neared Daniel. “A blow to the head has addled his brain. Time should clear his mind. He should know what he has done when he receives punishment, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Daniel’s fists loosened and he dropped his hands at his sides. Westin was right of course. The courts would have to dole out vengeance on Daniel’s behalf. It was time to take his family home.

  “I think I can escort this piece of refuse to the authorities with no trouble,” Westin said. “Do you have any rope?”

  “Are you suggesting you don’t carry any on your person? Shocking, considering you carry a concealed firearm.”

  Westin grinned. “I left the town house in a hurry this morning.”

  “Perhaps your cravat will work.”

  Baptiste weaved when the marquess released him to remove his cravat, but he showed no inclination toward fleeing. Westin secured his hands and, with Daniel’s assistance, draped him head first over the back of Daniel’s horse.

  “Move and you will fall and break your neck,” Daniel growled, not that he would mind, but Westin was correct. Baptiste should be aware of the consequences of his actions.

  Westin secured Daniel’s stallion to his own horse then mounted. “I’m certain you will want to summon a doctor to tend your wife, so I’ll deliver this blackguard to the authorities then collect the undertaker.”

  “Your assistance is much appreciated, Westin.”

  “My pleasure. Please give my regards to Mademoiselle Vistoire.” His expression hardened. “If you had seen what she witnessed today… Tell her if her betrothed has need of anything, I am at her disposal.”

  Daniel offered a sharp nod out of politeness. Never again would he leave his family’s well-being up to another man, and he considered Serafine to be as much a part of his kin as his wife and Rafe.

  “I should be off then.” Westin flashed a mischievous grin before urging the horses into a trot. Baptiste groaned with each bounce. Served him right. Daniel wished as much distress and pain on him as he had brought to Lisette and Rafe today.

  Devil take it! More pain.

  Daniel walked back to the carriage, checked on Lisette and Rafe once more then climbed onto the box to drive back to London. Every moment on the rutted lane, he thought of Lisette’s battered body and spirits. He couldn’t stand how far away she was. He needed to see her to reassure himself.

  He veered the carriage off the lane, pulled firmly on the reins to stop the team, and set the brake. Hurrying from the driver’s seat, he jerked the door open. Lisette recoiled with a soft squeak. Her hand covered her heart.

  “Gads, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Forgive me, darling.”

  Rafe lay curled in a ball on the opposite seat, deep in slumber already.

  Lisette eyed Daniel with wariness, waiting.

  “You were right yesterday, Lis. Separation from the one you love is unbearable.”

  She gawked as if he had sprouted roses from his arse. “And just who is it you love, Daniel?”

  His smile was instantaneous, a result of surprise and amusement. “Why you, you dotty girl. Who else?” He held his hand out. “Come sit beside me on the box. I do so enjoy your company, and I can’t bear another minute apart.”

  She nailed him with a scathing glare. “Better than the company of a certain paramour?”

  His smile faded. Good God, had one of his past indiscretions presented at the town house? It was hard to comprehend anyone doing so, but his wife’s lips quivered and her eyes were watery. She wasn’t engaging in unbridled speculation.

  His gaze traveled to Rafe then back to Lisette. “I’ll tell you whatever you wish to know, but not in here.”

  She studied him, her eyes narrowed and mouth pinched. It seemed at first she wouldn’t accommodate his request, but she scooted her bottom on the bench and curled her fingers around the door frame to climb from the carriage without his assistance. She wouldn’t even deign to touch him.

  “I would have helped you.”

  She brushed by him without a word, stalked to the side of the lane, and spun to face him. Her arms crossed under her breasts, plumping them to the point of distraction. Daniel shook himself mentally. She already judged him a lecher, not that he faulted her.

  For the last five years, he had lived the life of a rake, caring for no one, seeking solace in pleasures of the flesh. He had finally found peace with Lisette, but even that seemed tenuous now. Would she hold his past indulgences against him just when he had found his way?

  “Lisette, I warned you of my history when we arrived in London. I feared you would hear tales and not understand, but you promised you wouldn’t pay attention to gossip.”

  “This is not idle gossip, and you know it.”

  No, he didn’t know. He had no idea what had been said to her or by whom, nor did he wish to speculate.

  “I never meant for my actions to encroach upon our marriage. I apologize.”

  Her face flushed a deep red. “What the bloody hell”—her hands jabbed the air for emphasis—“does that mean?”

  He flinched. Egads, he had taught her some unbecoming language for a lady.

  She marched to him, stood toe to toe, and glared up. “So, you never wished me to know of your depraved activities. Does that make everything better?”

  “Of course not, and yes, I would have liked to have kept that part of my life a secret. It doesn’t do me proud.”

  “Then why?” Pain clouded her green eyes, but she didn’t look away. “Why debase yourself in such a manner? Do you love her so very much?”

  Love her? Surely, his wife wasn’t that naive. “Love has nothing to do with it. Surely, you understand the difference.”

  “You speak of lust.”

  He nodded. Lust was as good as any word.

  Lisette’s hands landed on her hips. “And does she know you do not return her love, or is she as foolish as I am?”

  Daniel blinked. “Return her love—Who, in God’s name, are you referring to?”

  Her chin jutted forward. “Paulina Fanchon, you imbécile. How many more women are you bedding?”

  “No one else.”

  “Just her. Oh, well. Pardon me. What a world of difference that makes.” Lisette stormed for the carriage.

  “Wait! That wasn’t my meaning.” She didn’t slow her step. “Come back here. We’re not finished talking. How do you know of Paulina?”

  She climbed inside the carriage but then nearly tumbled to the ground scurrying back down the steps. She waved a piece of foolscap in her hands. “I found her letter.”

  Devil take it. He had forgotten about Paulina’s correspondence. She meant nothing to him so he’d assigned her letter to the bottom of his priorities. “I see you found her letter in my desk.”

  Lisette neared him and shook the paper in his face. “Yes, I read all about your plans to reunite in New Orleans, and the house. How she has created a home for you. She is like your wife on the other side of the world. How many more of us are there?”

  Daniel shook his head. Good Lord, if he ever survived this scolding he would never do anything to deserve another. “You’re the only wife I have, Lisette, and you’re the only woman in my life.”

  She shook the letter in his face again and he snatched it from her. “I had no idea what Paulina had written. I never read it. Perhaps you noticed when you were pilfering through my desk her correspondence remained unopened. Did you ever stop to consider the reason?”

  She opened her mouth as if to speak but halted.

  “You didn’t, did you?” He took a step closer and she backed away. “Let me ask you one more thing, luv. If I wanted to be with her, why am I here? The Cecily sailed without me this morning.”

  A flicker of emotions played upon his wife’s face. Her gaze shot to the carriage then back at him.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” He captured her around the waist before she ran again. “I tossed her letter aside withou
t any thought, because I care nothing for her. Even before you and I met in the tavern, I had ended our association and never desired to see her again. The house was severance. I felt I owed her that at least. And I did not leave this morning because I couldn’t abide being away from you. So if you think I could ever love anyone besides you… Well, then you are the imbécile.”

  “Oh!” Her breath quickened and a rosy flush colored her cheeks.

  “I love you,” he murmured, pulling her tighter into his embrace and burying his face against the soft skin of her neck. “No one else, Lis. You are my life, sweetheart.”

  She softened in his arms.

  Daniel smiled, pleased to have derailed her rant, but even happier to have spoken his heart. “I should have told you yesterday. Hell, I should have told you before we ever arrived in London. I love you.”

  “Oh, Daniel.” She tilted her face up, her eyes shiny with tears. “I love you, too.”

  He leaned down to kiss her. Her soft lips contained forgiveness, certainty, and promise.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled into his embrace. Daniel rested his cheek against her luxurious hair. “I have only ever loved you. I was foolish to think I had known what love was before I met you.”

  Lisette turned her head and placed a kiss over his heart, nearly launching it from his chest.

  “You should take me home now, Daniel.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Thirty-six

  Lisette lounged against the smooth copper tub and closed her eyes. The warm, scented bathwater enveloped her sore muscles. In two days’ time, her body had begun to heal, but the memory of Monsieur Baptiste’s betrayal might never go away completely.

  Another runner had come by the town house to ask her a few final questions this morning and returned later in the afternoon to report the conclusion of the inquiry. After reviewing the packet of letters on Reynaud and conducting multiple interviews, the authorities had pieced together what they believed occurred.

  Monsieur Baptiste was a murderer.

  The man her father had trusted and given so much over the years had arranged for her father’s death. He had been blackmailing Reynaud and made Papa appear responsible as Reynaud drew close to discovering his blackmailer’s identity. Baptiste had made certain Reynaud received the name of his blackmailer while he was away in Boston. The New Orleans authorities had never considered Monsieur Baptiste a suspect in Papa’s murder, but he was as guilty in Lisette’s eyes as if he had drawn her father’s blood instead of Reynaud.