Page 29 of A Lady's Past
“I have a few questions for you, Miss St. Cloud. Do you feel up to a short discussion?” Michael leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His expression was earnest, but not forceful. “I will try to make this as brief as possible.”
She folded her hands in her lap and straightened her shoulders. Resignation, bravado and a dozen other emotions crossed her sweet face. “Ask your questions.”
“What information did your father give the French?” Michael’s steely gaze was as direct as the question.
“My father didn’t have the military data the French were hoping for. They captured us with the erroneous idea that Father had been working with the British military. They had planned to get him to build them the same rockets he’d built for you. Of course, Father hadn’t built those rockets. He’d only sent the idea to the Royal Academy, where someone must have stolen the papers and given them to the French.”
“But he must have given them something, or there would have been no sense in keeping you alive.”
Jacques’s instinct was to rush to her defense, but that would be counterproductive. It was important that Michael believed her innocent. If he rushed in like a knight in shining armor, it would do nothing to show Diana’s character. Biting his tongue, he wished his friend would be a bit gentler.
She huffed. “He told them if they wanted a rocket to go farther, they would have to build a bigger rocket. They demanded he come up with a diagram for the larger rocket and then build it.”
Fire flashed in Michael’s eyes. “And did he?”
“Every month when Caron would come to see his progress, Father would explain about some trouble hindering the process. After a few months, Caron began torturing Mother and I to get Father to work harder. At the time of his death, Father had drawn up half a rocket that was aerodynamically unsound, and my mother had lost the thumb on her right hand and had her leg broken twice. I was lucky and only had a few broken ribs and bruises.”
Leaning back, Michael sighed. “I’m very sorry. When our government learns that they were wrong and left her citizens to suffer, they will be sorry as well.”
“How can you help me, Your Grace? Will you arrest Victor?”
Michael shook his head. “If I do that, there will be another just like him who will take his place. We need to expose them. I shall call on some friends who are experts in such matters. Have you heard of the Buckrose Horsemen?”
She shook her head.
“I’m not surprised. They work mostly in secret as an agency against the Terror. It was with their assistance that we managed to rescue Monsieur Laurent from his fate.”
“And you believe these Horsemen will be willing to save me from mine?”
With a shrug, Michael rose. “I cannot say, Miss St. Cloud. I will ask them and recommend that they help.”
She stood. “What shall I do in the meantime?”
“Nothing. Be cautious and send word if you notice anything unusual. I will contact you when I have the Horsemen’s response.”
“And you are sure these are not the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse come to carry me off.” She walked him to the door.
A rare full laugh fell from Michael’s lips. “I think they would be very amused by the comparison. Laurent, I’ll make my own way home.”
Jacques nodded and waited for Michael to leave.
She stood with her back to him by the door. “I thought you might have betrayed me, but I couldn’t blame you.”
“I shall never do that, Diana. I will protect you no matter the cost.” He walked to her and caressed her shoulders. It would be best to keep his distance, but was impossible to achieve. Between the gravel in her voice and the anxiety in her stoic stance, he had to touch her, ease her fears.
“You say lovely things for a man who is not the marrying kind. I don’t know what you want from me, Jacques. I only know that people who care about me end badly, and I don’t want that for you.”
Gently, he eased her around to face him. “It is too late to stop me caring for you. It might have been past that point the moment we met. But the road we are on is an uncertain one. I suggest we try to get through all of this and get you safe. After that we can worry about the rest.”
Her eyes were like the deepest, clearest pools as she stared up at him. Her dark eyelashes framed them in stark contrast. They glistened as if she might cry, but held those emotions just below the surface. “If I live, I would like to go home. That will take me out of your view, which will be best for everyone.”
The idea of her leaving him for the borderlands created a knot in his gut that would not release. He ran his hand from her shoulder up the soft skin of her neck. Her skin was pink from washing away the grime of the laboratory fire. Longing to kiss the path his fingers took, he touched her jaw and cupped her cheek. “Do not speak of leaving me, my goddess of the wood. I fear I would seek you out to the ends of the earth.”
She wrapped her hand around the back of his but did not pull his touch away from her face. “You mustn’t say such things. Our paths are not the same.”
Threading his fingers through her soft, dark hair released the smoky odor from the fire, but also her own scent that lingered beneath. The night he’d held her, that floral warmth had enveloped him and made her mark on him. “I should not say a great many things to you, Diana, but I find all I want to do is spew sonnets in your presence. You must forgive me.”
A giggle like bells in winter fell crisp and rich from her lips. If he could have bottled the sound and drank it like fine wine, he would have made himself drunk every day and longed for more. Suddenly shy, she cast her eyes down. “I should find Bertram and go back to Everton House. I need a bath and a fresh dress.”
