The Beloved Scoundrel

“Do you suppose you could refrain from heaping guilt on my head and see to Gregor? The trip wasn’t easy for him.” He smiled bitterly. “And, yes, I know, that’s my fault too.”

“I’m glad you admit it.” She immediately took charge, directing servants, sending for the physician in the village. Then, taking Marianna’s arm, she whisked her toward the front door.

“I’ll be waiting in the study, Marianna,” Jordan said quietly.

She nodded but didn’t look at him as she let Dorothy lead her into the castle and up the stairs to her chamber.

“You’re as cold as a block of ice,” Dorothy said as she knelt at the hearth and stoked the flames. “Come and get warm.”

Marianna wanted to tell her that no fire could rid her of this chill, but Dorothy was being kind. She crossed the room and held her hands out to the fire.

“Why would they take the boy? Do they think Jordan will ransom him?” Dorothy asked.

“Perhaps.” She had never told Dorothy the details of her life before she came to Cambaron, and there was no use confiding in her now. She would not have understood a world so violent and alien to her own. “If you please, I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“Of course.” Dorothy moved brusquely toward the door. “Will you come down to supper?”

“No.” Jordan had said she must stay in her room in order that Nebrov’s messenger would have to come to her. He had set a watch in a room down the hall and would know who came and went.

“Then I’ll see that something’s brought up to you.” Dorothy paused at the door, hesitating. “And I wish you to know that I do not condemn you for going with Jordan to Dalwynd. Your loss of virtue was not your fault, and I shall still look on you exactly as I did before.”

“What?” Marianna raised her head and stared at her in bewilderment. Virtue? What difference did a loss of virtue make when Alex was gone? Mother of God, what did it signify if she became the whore of Babylon? All that mattered was making sure Alex was saved. Then, as she stared at Dorothy, she realized it did matter to her. She evidently considered it of great importance, or she would never have mentioned it at this time. She might loudly embrace the rights of women, but the strictures of the ton had been more deeply ingrained in her than she knew. Even though she protested and denied it, Marianna was less in her eyes than she had been before.

She had broken the rules.

“That’s all I wished to say. Now we’ll forget this unfortunate incident and go on as before.”

As the door closed behind her, Marianna stared into the flames. Dorothy was wrong; they could not go on as before. She would continue to love Dorothy for her kindness, but there would always be a barrier between them from now on.

Dorothy is bound by the very rules she thinks she flouts.

Jordan had said those words. Jordan had known what she had never guessed. Clever Jordan.

But not clever enough to keep Nebrov from taking Alex.

She sat down in the wing chair before the fire and closed her eyes.

Let the messenger come soon, she prayed. She could not bear this waiting much longer.

An envelope was slipped under her door a few hours later.

She heard a faint rustle and turned her head to see a white envelope cross over the threshold like a poisonous snake.

She leaped from her chair and was at the door in seconds but made no attempt to throw it open and look for the messenger. Jordan had promised he would be intercepted. Instead, Marianna ripped open the envelope and scanned the note inside before running down the stairs and into the study.

She threw the note on the desk in front of Jordan. “Here it is. It was slipped under my door. Now, let’s do something about it.”

He picked up the missive and read it. “It’s what we expected.”

Exactly what they expected, Marianna thought sickly. A death threat to Alex unless she surrendered herself to Nebrov at his estate at Pekbar before the month’s end. “We have to leave at once.”

“I’ve already sent word to ready the Seastorm,” Jordan said. “We’ll set out in the morning for Southwick.” He rose to his feet. “Wait in your room. I’ll need to talk to you as soon as I’m done.”

“Where are you going?”

He glanced over his shoulder, and she inhaled sharply as she saw his expression. “The messenger.”

It was after midnight when Jordan came to her room. He glanced at the cases beside the bed and said, “I see you’re ready to depart.”

She had paid little attention to gathering belongings, concentrating only on keeping herself from going mad while she waited for him. “I packed for Alex as well. He’ll need something to wear when Nebrov releases him.” When he releases him, not if. She had to keep believing they would save him. She asked, “Who was the messenger?”

“William Stoneham.”

At first she did not recognize the name. He had always been just William, the name on Alex’s lips a dozen times a day. When realization dawned, shock rippled through her. Cheerful, dapper William who had taught Alex to ride. William, whom Alex trusted only a little less than Gregor. “It couldn’t be him. He loved Alex.”

“Not as much as he loved the pounds Costain paid him to betray your brother. He told Costain where Gregor and Alex were going yesterday and that they would be unescorted.”

She shook her head to clear it. These people she had thought she knew so well, she had not really known at all. The safe cocoon of Cambaron was unraveling, leaving her feeling dazed and naked.

“He was to notify Costain’s man in Southwick when he delivered the message.” He smiled grimly. “Unfortunately, he won’t deliver the news in person. I left William’s hand intact so that he could write the note we’ll dictate, but his other extremities are sadly damaged.”

“Dictate? What do you want him to say?”

“We may have need of dividing our forces. He’ll send word that I was summoned to London and plan to come to Montavia at a later date and that only Gregor will be escorting you to Montavia.”

“Did William know anything else?”

“No.” He paused. “Marianna, we can’t let Nebrov control the terms.”

She stiffened. “What are you saying? I won’t have Nebrov angered and chance having him hurt Alex.”

“Sit down, Marianna.”

“I don’t care what games you’re playing with Napoleon. Alex is not going to be part of them.”

“I said, sit down.” He gently pushed her down onto the chair. “And listen to me. Do you think Nebrov is going to release Alex even if you give yourself in exchange?”

She had to believe it, she thought desperately.

“Shall I tell you what’s going to happen? He’ll capture you, renege on his promise to release Alex, and use him to make you give him the Jedalar. Do you want to see Alex tortured before your eyes?”

“No!” Her hands clenched the arms of the chair. “It won’t happen. I’ll give him the Jedalar.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“You can’t let-” She stared at him in horror. “You’d let him die?”

“He won’t die,” he said harshly. “Do you think I’d allow Alex to be sacrificed? I’d let you give Nebrov the Jedalar and then find a way to take it from him later, if I thought that would save Alex.” He knelt before her chair. “It wouldn’t. After Nebrov has the Jedalar, the first thing he’d do would be to destroy anyone else who has knowledge of it. He’d kill both you and Alex. Think, Marianna, you know what he is.”

She did know and had a terrible fear that Jordan was speaking the truth. Mama had told her often enough that power usually bred dishonor. It was only desperation that had led her to ignore that knowledge.

He didn’t speak for a moment, letting his words sink in. “Our only chance is to find a way to catch him off guard and take Alex away from him. To do that, I’m going to need your help.” He paused. “You’re going to have to give me the Jedalar.”

“I knew it would come to that,” she said bitterly. “It’s what you always wanted, wasn’t it? What a wonderful opportunity.”

He flinched. “Yes, it’s what I wanted, what I have to have. But I won’t let you be hurt by it. Trust me, Marianna.”