Page 52 of Drowned in the Pleasure of a Devilish Baron
Thank you for your letter, and for following the unconventional means to get it to me. You have no idea what a comfort it is to hear from you, and to know that I have you and your husband on my side.I need your help with something. Can you find out what you can about a Broderick Davis, Earl of Ashton? It is very important, and the sooner you can give me the information, the better.
She paused before completing the letter, her pencil hovering uncertainly above the page. Should she tell Juliet why she wanted to know?
I appreciate this, and you. You are the friend of a lifetime.
Yours,Sarah.
Better not to tell her why she wanted to know. Even if it were foolish, she hoped for Felix not to find out. Not quite yet. Should things become direr, she would want him to know so that he could help her stop it from happening.
I want Felix to be my last resort. I will not be the lady in distress, always running to him to fix my problems. I will do what I can on my own, so that he knows my love for him in my actions, not only my words.
This decided, she squared her shoulders and folded the note into a tight, interlocking fold, slipping it into an inner pocket of the gown she would wear tomorrow.
Tucking the note into the pouch in the stables would be easy. Waiting for a response was sure to be much harder.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The next day was the same for Felix. He forgot about the letter until the evening, but when he went into the drawing room and saw the stack of mail on the table, ready for him to open, there was a new folded letter on top. This one, too, did not have familiar writing. He ripped it open at once and began to read.
Felix Andrews
We know what you are doing. We will destroy you if we have to. Do not make the mistake of not believing us.
If anything, this most recent missive only left him feeling more confused. He had no enemies that he knew of. Why was he suddenly receiving these messages? What was he doing that had led to this? He could think of nothing at all.
He shook his head, dislodging the thoughts buzzing like angry bees.
Tomorrow is too important a day for me to be caught up in these juvenile letters! I do not have the time or mind for this!
He shoved the letter in the drawer of the end table, slamming it shut a touch harder than he had meant to.
The next morning, he was out of bed before the sun rose, preparing for the day ahead. It was a critically important day. The vines were arriving from France, and if they were not planted just right, the massive expense put into them would be wasted.
Thoughts of the letter rose in his mind, but he shoved them away as hard as he had shoved the drawer containing the letter last night. He had to focus on the day ahead. If this venture was not a success, it spelled the end of his future life with Sarah.
Following a quick breakfast, he was out in the fields just as the sun was beginning to rise. For now, they were empty. The dew strung across the tilled land like shining diamonds, the fresh scent of the earth as good a smell as anything he had ever experienced.
He nodded to himself as he walked up and down the rows laid perfectly straight across his hills. Everything was prepared, the weather was perfect. All there was for him to do now was to wait for the vines to arrive.
It was still an hour yet before the large, trundling carriages appeared down his drive, an army of men riding alongside as if they were escorting the king himself. Felix met Monsieur Dubois at the head, who looked clearer-eyed than he had ever seen him.
“You are a gentleman, Sir Felix,” Dubois said as he hopped nimbly down from the carriage. “You know you can just wait in your home and I will tell you the work has been done correctly?”
Felix flushed, but did not turn away. “I know, but I would like to see it done. This is too important for me to not be involved at all.”
Dubois smiled, and for the first time since they had met Felix felt he had gained the man’s approval. “Very well.”
“And where’s your flask today? Do you need me to run a maid for some?”
Dubois shook his head. “Not today, monsieur. Today is too important. I need a clear head, and a quick hand.”
Felix fell back to allow the workers to unload the vines. Each was painstakingly wrapped in a black sheer cloth, tied off at the top with twine. Dubois darted through each, as quick and all-seeing as a cat, shouting and directing and lending a hand where needed.
“One at a time!” he shouted, loud enough that likely even Sarah could hear all the way from her home. “No more than one!”
One small, thin man tottered dangerously on the edge of the carriage, looking as if he might fall backward off of it, one of the precious vines in hand. Felix ran forward and placed a firm hand on the small of his back, setting him upright.
“WATCH!” Dubois came at a run and proceeded to tear into the poor man in rapid fire French, gesturing at Felix, who was unsure if he had helped or not, and was reluctant to ask.
