Page 73 of His Wicked Secret
He did not like it. Avery was a skilled and cunning man. Using him this way was a waste of talent. And Audrey… There was a woman who only wished to serve her country, yet she was being used as nothing more than a distraction. Sacrifice was sometimes necessary, it was true, but this lacked honor or decency. Still, he would obey.
There were a dozen men talking and playing cards. They appeared to be on break from patrol. He addressed the officer who had the most polished appearance and the highest-ranking uniform. “Monsieur, are you the captain?”
The man stood and faced him. “I am. What can I do for you?” the captain asked.
Daniel steeled himself for what he had to do next. For the first time in his life, he and his master did not see eye to eye.
“My name is Victor Dubois. I was at the port when a ship came in. I believe there are English spies in Calais. I thought you would wish to know.”
The room, once full of boisterous men enjoying wine and cards, was suddenly deathly quiet.
“Spies?” The captain repeated the word softly.
“Yes.” Daniel watched the captain reach for his sword, which lay on the table he’d been sitting at when Daniel came in.
“Just how do you know they are here?”
“I saw them arrive on an English ship.”
“And that happens frequently, no? Calais is a trade port. Many English come to visit.” The captain’s shrewd eyes fixed on Daniel. One of his subordinates spoke up.
“Are you the Victor Dubois who frequents Boulogne-sur-Mer?”
Daniel almost smiled. He’d hoped his reputation would be recognized. “The same. Have we met?”
The soldier turned to his commander. “Sir, I’ve heard of Mr. Dubois. Before I was transferred here, he provided the guards in Boulogne-sur-Mer with accurate information on smugglers. I would hear him out.”
Daniel fidgeted, but in a way that conveyed excitement. He was the giddy humble citizen who was about to save his country, no doubt hoping there’d be a free drink in it for him.
“Very well,” said the captain. “Who are these people? And do you have any proof to back up your claims?”
“There is a man and a woman. I overheard them speaking strange things. Not tourist talk, you see? I wanted to be sure, so I stole these from the man’s valise.” Daniel held a pair of letters, forged of course, written in English, but he’d kept the language simple enough for a French gendarme to understand. The captain took the letters and read them. The key here was not to outright confess their intentions, but to be incredibly suspicious in nature.
“Mon Dieu,” the captain muttered. As Daniel expected, the captain had the ability to read most of the English in the letters. “What did you hear them speak of?”
“Of revolutionaries and meeting in Paris. It washowthey said it, you see?”
The captain nodded his understanding. Then he put the letters into his coat pocket.
“Men, ready your weapons. We must investigate this at once.” He turned back to Daniel. “Where can we find them?”
“At an inn called the White Lily on the edge of town.”
“I know the one.” He waved to the soldiers. “Sargent Bisset, round up any stragglers and have them in formation at once. Prepare to march.”
“Yes, Captain.” Bisset, the tall, serious-looking man who had vouched for him, nodded and headed for the sleeping quarters, calling the soldiers to get moving. Daniel watched them muster, frowning as they startled a little boy who was begging for coins, sending the lad fleeing down the street with their jeers chasing him.
Daniel watched them march off. He buried the guilt of his betrayal deep, along with a hundred other regrets, and then mounted his horse.
I did my best to warn you, Russell. Whatever happens this night is out of my hands.
Daniel dug his heels into the flanks of the horse. He would ride all night to put as much distance between him and Calais as he could. He couldn’t wash the blood of the innocent and brave Miss Sheridan off his hands, but at least he wouldn’t hear her screams when the soldiers captured her.
God help her. God help them both.
* * *
Jonathan slippedinside the taproom of the little French inn and glanced about. There were several people still dining, and he took a table by the fire. Close by, he noticed a couple gazing longingly into each other’s eyes. A rather tall woman and a very short man. Jonathan tried to hide his smile from them, because they might mistake it for mockery. In truth, he found their open affection charming. He’d never been one to appreciate the intimacy couples displayed before, either subtle or overt, but now that he and Audrey were so close to having their own happiness, he was delighted at seeing others with the same fortune.
