“It won’t be that difficult. I had the foresight to set up a method of contacting him,” I said, and explained to him how he’d given me his cravat to hang from the window. “It almost seems a pity, though. Tricking him into stealing something would have been much more fun. I could have had a day or two in Paris, shopping for just the right priceless item, irresistible to our favorite thief. You do realize if I did such a thing he would be eternally indebted to me. And that I would then call in the favor and have him join forces with the Crown—and you’d lose our bet.”
“A risk that would be worth taking,” he said. “Fortunately, however, your foresight has protected me from having to do so. But no more of this right now. If I’m to be away from you for days, my darling wife, I don’t want to spend our last hours together discussing the multitudinous charms of Sebastian Capet.”
“You don’t?” I asked. He was loosening my corset now. “Whatever else did you have in mind?”
“I thought perhaps we could play chess,” he said.
“What a pity there are no pieces in our room.” Free from my stays, I turned to face him and traced his lips with my finger. “And no board. You’ll have to find another way to amuse yourself.”
“Have you any suggestions?”
“None that do me credit,” I said.
“My favorite kind.” He pulled pins from my hair until it hung down my back. I kissed him.
“You’re a corrupting influence,” I said.
“Would you want any other sort of husband?”
And then, in an instant, every confused and conflicted complicated feeling I’d had for him over the past days vanished. I loved him, even when he wanted to protect me. Even when protection meant curbing my freedom. It wasn’t society or some set of arbitrary rules that drove him to hold me back—it was pure and simple love. Tenderness and care. A desire to not lose me before he had to. I melted into his arms and let him carry me to our bed.
It was perfect. Except for the tiniest, darkest part of my soul that was crying out, wishing I could protect him, too.
27
Rain started to fall at half eleven, so I bundled into a thick cloak and slipped into my sturdiest shoes before going to meet Sebastian at midnight. Before he’d left, I’d told Colin what I planned to do—I wasn’t about to hide anything from him—and now I made my way quietly though the house, stopping twice when I thought I heard footsteps, then starting again towards the door, opening it silently, and breathing a sigh of relief when I felt the sweet, wet air outside. I pulled up my hood in what, given the force with which the water was hitting the ground, was doomed to be a vain effort. A cloudy sky meant no moon, so I stepped carefully into the dark, not so much because I worried I would fall on the slick pavement in front of the house, but because everything around me made me want to jump.
The cool raindrops turned steamy as they hit the ground, releasing a disheartening mist to meander through the trees on the estate. Thunder rolled in the distance, and the only relief from the black night came from intermittent flashes of lightning. I’d considered bringing a lamp, but didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself. The sound of the storm and its accompanying wind made it difficult to listen for footsteps, and this put my nerves further on edge. I knew Sebastian would come. But I should have liked to be able to listen for any further—and unwelcome—additions to our party.
I remembered times when I’d been afraid in London, when I feared the man who’d murdered my first husband might try to attack me next. As frightening as a city could be, with its narrow streets and darting shadows, the country scared me more. In town, a person was never truly alone. There were always servants or cab drivers or pedestrians on the street within shouting distance. Here, however, if I ventured far from the house, no one would hear me should I cry for help. Just as no one had heard Edith Prier’s screams when her murderer attacked her.
Which was why I had no intention of taking a single step beyond Mrs. Hargreaves’s gate. But even that felt too far from the warm comfort of her sprawling house. I shivered, wet from the downpour that only grew harder the longer I waited for Sebastian. Clinging to the iron railing posts in an attempt to stop my hands from shaking, I watched for my friend on the road, periodically turning around in case he was approaching me from behind, as he had previously.
“Kallista!” His whisper was harsh, and came from behind a tree a few paces from me. “Come here, quickly.”
Without hesitating, I obeyed.
“Someone followed me here,” he said. “We need to get you back inside.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“I’m afraid I may need to join you. Could your mother-in-law spare a room for me?”
This was hardly a question I wanted to pose to Mrs. Hargreaves so soon after relations between us had begun to thaw, but I saw no other option. “How did you get into the grounds?” I asked.
“Over the west wall,” he said. “I heard someone drop behind me less than a minute later.”
My heart was pounding. The house felt a million miles away. “Will we be safe inside? Or will he pursue us there?”
“I’ve not the slightest idea—but it can’t be more dangerous inside than out.”
I looked around as thoroughly as I could, watching for any signs of unusual movement, and strained my ears to hear beyond the rain. Satisfied there was no visible danger—the best I could manage—I grabbed Sebastian by the hand and ran as fast as I could to the front door. We flew through it, slamming into my mother-in-law, who was standing on the other side.
“There is, I assume, a reasonable explanation?” she asked, looking Sebastian up and down.
He gave his most elegant bow, even as water trickled off the top hat he’d removed the instant he saw her. “I am delighted to see you again,” he said. “It’s far too long that I’ve been deprived of your excellent company.”
“You waste your time trying to charm me,” she said. Quickly assessing the situation as I told her what had happened, she pulled a heavily embroidered bell cord. “You, Emily, need to get into dry clothes at once. You, Mr. Capet, must do the same. Stay here, I don’t need you dripping everywhere.”
A footman, disheveled, his white wig not quite straight, appeared, out of breath, undoubtedly from running up the stairs. “Madame?”
“Watch this man. He’s a thief. I shall return momentarily with clothing for him. Do not let him out of your sight and do not be taken in by his ridiculous manners.”
She led me upstairs, but said not another word until we’d reached the bedroom I shared with her son. “What is the meaning of this running about in the middle of a stormy night?”
I explained to her that Colin had wanted me to talk to Sebastian. And then I explained the method Sebastian had given me to contact him. She stepped into our dressing room and began making her way through Colin’s clothes, looking for something her unexpected guest could wear.
“Do you think he will be useful?” she asked.
“I hope so.”
“Let’s find out,” she said. “Change your clothes and come downstairs. I’ll have the footman continue to keep an eye on Mr. Capet while he dresses. We can’t take any risks with that one. Let’s hope Colin won’t mind lending him a suitable outfit. We can have his own clothes ready for him tomorrow.”
She started out of the room, but I stopped her. “Mrs. Hargreaves…” I couldn’t keep my voice from trembling. “Would you wait for me? I’m afraid I’ve frightened myself. And Sebastian heard someone following him outside. I —”
“Say not another word,” she said, and rested the full weight of her body against the closed bedroom door. “No one is getting through here. Now. Dry clothes. And give me the wet ones.” There was a calm to her tone that reminded me of Colin in stressful situations. He was a master at being soothing in the midst of madness.
In short order we’d made our way back downstairs, and soon a blushing Sebastian, his hair wet and unruly, sat across from us in a smallish study dominated by an enormous brass globe. Tall, elegant chairs surrounded the ebony table dividing us from him as he leaned forward, clasping his hands.
