“Nor you.”
A grin burst on his lips that shewould even think he could be sorry. “Oh, Elizabeth. This will be myfinest memory for years to come.” With that he reached forwards andplaced his lips against hers.
When he pulled away, she looked up athim. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it after a moment. Hewould love to know what she was about to say, but perhaps it wasbetter this way. They couldn’t have any emotional ties betweenthem. She knew that as well as he.
Elizabeth was the first to movetowards the door. “Shall we?”
“I suppose so.”
She stopped at the basin in the room,splashed water on her face, and turned to him. “Better?”
John smoothed down her hair and combeda few tangles out with his fingers. “For someone who has traveledin the hold of a ship, you look lovely.”
“I am sure I look a mess,but thank you.”
They emerged onto the deck and turnedtowards the dock. Along the road was a large carriage, the crest ofWhitton on its side. How did Danby know when she was arriving? Orthat she would arrive at this port?
The door opened, and out steppedMartin Renard. He was the man responsible for putting John inTuileries all those years ago, and Elizabeth too. John stopped hisapproach. Renard! That was Lisette’s last name.
“Uncle Martin,” Elizabethcried and hurried forwards.
John stifled a groan. Not only had heseduced and made love to the granddaughter of Danby and the cousinof a one-time good friend, but also the niece of his superior. Heshould just remain on this ship and have it take him back toFrance. He was almost certain he would fare better with Napoleon’sMinistry of Police than the three men in England.
But as much as he wanted to, Johnwould not run away. He slowly followed Elizabeth to heruncle.
“Your father wrote thatDanby expected you home. I took a chance that this would be theport you came through.” He turned to John. “It is good to see you,John. I assume things are well.”
Renard was clearly unaware of thesituation. Before John and Elizabeth separated to return to theirfamilies, the man needed to be informed of everything.
“Actually they aren’t.Elizabeth and I cannot return to Paris.”
The man’s pleasant mood disappeared.“Let’s go somewhere where we can speak in private. I’ve taken aroom at the Master’s Inn.” He turned to assist Elizabeth into thecarriage. “Do you not have any luggage?”
She shrugged. “We left in ahurry.”
“I’ll have Polly obtainclothing for you while we meet. You can’t return to Danby Castledressed like that. Your grandfather will have Jean Pierre shot onthe spot.”
For more reasons than youcan imagine.
The next morning dawned crisp andclear. Elizabeth put on the first new dress she had worn in years.How Polly, her new maid, had managed to find so much clothing onsuch short notice was a miracle. She wished she could look forwardsto her return, but the moment she stepped into the carriage sheknew she would never see John again.
It was for the best, she remindedherself, but she would have loved to have just one more night withhim. She would have taken it last night, had her uncle not been inthe same inn. Instead, they spent the evening going over the eventsin Paris while her uncle sent dispatches to London, Germany, andcities within France. They didn’t know how far the damage hadstretched, but they needed to warn whom they could. It was in theearly hours of the morning when they finally parted. Even then, shehadn’t gotten a moment alone with John because her uncle insistedon escorting her to her room.
Now the time had come and she hopedshe managed her goodbye without tears.
He waited for her beside the carriage.Polly was already seated. “Renard left early to return to London.He will not continue with you to Yorkshire.”
“I assumed asmuch.”
“Will you be all right? Isit really safe for two women to travel alone?”
Elizabeth bit back a smile. She wouldlove to beg him to be her escort, but there were already fourguards with the carriage, at her grandfather’s insistence, wheneverany of the daughters or granddaughters traveled without husbands orfamily.
He opened the door to the carriagebefore lifting her hand to his lips. “It was a pleasure workingwith you, Lisette,” he whispered before he turned her hand over andplaced his lips against the pulse at her wrist.
“You are a wicked man, JeanPierre.”
He straightened, grinned, and winked.“I can be very wicked, Mademoiselle.” With a flourish, he bowed.“Until we meet again.”
Elizabeth nodded. She could not speakdue to the lump in her throat. Tears blurred her vision, and shehastily retreated into the carriage. The door closed behind her,and she knew that this was the last she would see of Jean PierreBouvier or John Phillip Trent. Or course, one day she may meet Johnin society. But if she did, she would have to pretend they did notknow one another.
John watched the scenery outside thecarriage window but really saw nothing. In a few hours, he would behome. He hadn’t been to the Abbey in five years and wasn’t surewhat he would find. Did his father still hate him? Were he and hismother still alive? They must be. Even if there was nocommunication, he would have been advised of the death of either ofhis parents, or any family member, for that matter.
As much as he looked forwards toseeing his brothers and sister, enthusiasm lacked. Instead his mindwas on Elizabeth and her family reunion. If all went well, sheshould arrive there tomorrow, a day before the imposed deadline.What would Danby say to her lack of a husband? What excuse wouldshe invent?
John punched the seat beside him. Heshould have never let her go off on her own. Danby would go muchharder on her without him there, and Elizabeth couldn’t even tellher grandfather the truth. To do so would ruin an opportunity forher to continue working for England, and Danby would have her insome fancy dress and on the marriage mart before she could blink aneye.
Then what? She would be married off tosome dandy who couldn’t begin to appreciate her. And how would sheexplain her lack of
