Page 46 of A Night of Forever
The ribald comments came thick and fast then.
Hadley shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”
Nor did Arend. It was damnably embarrassing. “I’d just sent her back inside her house when someone walloped me on the back of my skull. The next thing I knew I was in the mine.”
Christian turned to Hadley, his tone troubled. “I was just telling Arend about Isobel’s and Sealey’s abduction, and of our rescue of him. Isobel was not in the house when we freed him. Neither was Dufort. I then received a letter from Lieutenant Colbert saying he had rescued Isobel from Dufort, and that she swore Arend was in a mine near Durham.”
“Another lie from her sweet lips,” Arend muttered.
Christian ignored his comment. “Thankfully, Colbert sent his men to investigate. Of course they didn’t find anything. He didn’t tell Isobel the truth because he did not wish to upset her. As soon as I knew Arend was safe, I wrote to Colbert asking him to take Isobel back to London, and to say nothing about Arend’s rescue. If she is in league with Victoria, I don’t want either of them to know Arend has escaped.”
Hadley slumped back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. “I don’t see what Isobel gains by saying Arend’s in Durham when he isn’t. She might have been misled too.”
Sebastian snorted. “She sent Colbert’s men—and us—searching for Arend in the wrong place. It could have been a distraction so Victoria had time to escape.”
“I don’t know,” Hadley said slowly. “Colbert said Dufort had treated her very roughly. She had a black eye and he had to stitch her cheek together.”
“He hurt her?” Arend felt a violent desire to rip Dufort limb from limb. “The bastard.” And he had to admit the truth. “She did show me a map of a mine in Durham. Perhaps shehasbeen used as a distraction without knowing it.”
All the men sat there drinking silently, gazing into the fire.
Finally, Christian stretched, and sighed. “Isobel is the least of our problems,” he said. “She’s with Colbert, and he can keep an eye on her. I did suggest he be wary and watch her closely while they are traveling back to London, which should take a few days. Victoria needs to be our priority.”
Hadley nodded at Christian. “Agreed. As Simon reminded me, a woman on such a vendetta never gives up. If she runs, it’s because she plans to live to fight another day.”
Arend frowned. “What the hell happened, Hadley? You had her in custody.”
“Yes. I did.” Hadley’s jaw tightened and he looked as though he wanted to punch something. “And the damned woman dragged me over half the country. I thought she was waiting for something, probably rescue, so I decided to stay at an inn outside of town to avoid crowds. She was being a tiresome witch, and I was down to my last messenger pigeon, and I lost my temper. Said that if we didn’t rendezvous with Isobel soon I was going to drag her back to London because Arend was obviously dead.”
“Thank you.” Arend inclined his head in a mocking salute. “I can’t tell you how I appreciate your faith in my inventiveness.”
Hadley scowled. “Well, how the devil was I supposed to know you were safe and well and enjoying the charms of the local farmer’s daughter?”
Sebastian kicked the table leg, making Hadley’s glass jump. “Argue later. What did Victoria say when you threatened to return to London?”
Hadley’s cheekbones turned red. “She told me to stop whining like a spoiled child. That after what she endured at our fathers’ hands, a few days of waiting were nothing.”
Arend wanted to shout the woman’s words down, but in all conscience he couldn’t. What their fathers had done was indefensible—although it didn’t excuse Victoria’s actions toward their families.
“Then,” Hadley said into an uncomfortable silence, “I tied her to the bedposts as I had every other night, and left Martin on guard. And while I was walking, and smoking a cheroot, and feeling sorry for myself, Dufort entered the inn, slit Martin’s throat, knocked Simon unconscious, and made off with her.”
Hadley scrubbed a palm over his face. “God. Poor Martin. The bastard didn’t have to kill him.”
Some people enjoyed the kill. Victoria was one of them, so it wasn’t surprising that Dufort was the same.
Arend grabbed the bottle of brandy on the table between them and poured Hadley a generous measure. Hadley nodded his thanks and took a solid swallow.
“And then?” Christian said.
“And then I sent the damned pigeon telling you to meet me here, and waited for Simon to regain consciousness. He’s the one who told me it was Dufort. He’s also the one who said Victoria wouldn’t give up no matter how long it took. We’ll never be safe as long as she’s alive. Nor will our families. And he’s right.” Hadley took another drink. “Then I came here.”
“Were there any clues as to the direction she took, Hadley?” Philip said.
“Yes,” Hadley said. “But after that damned crisscrossing trail she took me on, I can tell you clues mean nothing. She could have backtracked and gone north instead of south. Simon talked of shipping schedules to America, Africa, or, indeed, Australia, but my bet is on France.”
France. Arend suddenly saw Victoria’s plan. He stopped for a couple of moments, his glass frozen halfway to his mouth, and then he lowered his arm and placed the glass on the wooden tabletop with a solid click.
“Of course,” he said. “She’ll head back to Paris. She knows that city intimately, unlike London. And she’s likely to still have friends there. She could hide for years, disguising herself once again, until a later date when she’s ready to attack. All the other locations are too far to keep a watch on us or to strike at us at will.”
