Page 89 of Wicked Designs
“Your lost lamb is there as you suspected. I met her.Elle est très jolie! You did not tell me that,Monsieur.”
“Does it matter?” Blankenship snorted rudely.
“Pour moi, of course. Essex is too attached to her. He watches her every move.”
Blankenship’s voice lowered. “Is she unspoiled?”
Evangeline chuckled. “No,Monsieur. I believe HisGrace has long since plucked the fruit of that vine. She is helplessly in love with him.”
“Her love doesn’t matter to me. One does not need that in a mistress.”
Lucien’s mouth twisted into a snarl, and Ashton’s fists clenched, but both mastered their tempers.
“Very well. Here is a bonus payment, as agreed, Miss Mirabeau. I will handle the matter from here.” Blankenship paced away out of sight.
Evangeline met Ashton’s gaze and gave him the barest hint of acknowledgement before speaking again.
“You should know,MonsieurBlankenship, I convinced the lamb to leave. I told her that if she did not return to London, you would kill Godric and his friends.”
“Why the devil did you do that? The last thing I need is for them to be warned.”
“I only wished to save you the trouble of retrieving her by force as you had planned.” Her voice was all sincerity, but Ashton knew better than to take that tone at face value. She was speaking too loudly for the words to be meant only for Blankenship.
“You know nothing of my plans. Still you may have saved me some effort if she obeys.” Blankenship hummed, as though pleased, with a cruel note along his throat.
“I have no doubt she will,Monsieur. None at all.”
When the conversation’s volume decreased, the pair crossed the street, hailing a carriage back to Lucien’s townhouse.
“We have to get back to Godric immediately,” Lucien said.
“I agree. Emily will make another run for it, and I suspect this time she might manage to succeed. Godric won’t stand for another attempt. He’ll be furious.”
“I know, and I’d prefer we get there before he punishes her.”
Ashton glanced at him, then away. “You think he’d harm her?”
“Strike her? No, but his temper… We all know how hard he fights it. I worry about what he’ll say to her. She doesn’t know him like we do. Words can strike deeper than any blow, and he’ll say things he doesn’t mean to protect his heart.”
“Don’t we all?”
Lucien pulled a pistol out from the inside of his jacket.
“Same old Lucien,” Ashton said under his breath.
Lucien grinned. “Old habits die hard.”
Ashton laughed. Old habits indeed…
“Do you think we’ll get back in time to stop Emily?”
Ashton bowed his head. “For now I’m more worried about Blankenship’s men, whoever they are, and what he intends to do with them.” He watched Lucien check the pistol. “Before long we might all need to carry one, old friend. I’ve never been a religious man, but I believe now is the time to pray.”
Emily spenther last hours collecting her few possessions into the small cloth bag that Libba left under her bed. Tucked away were her butterfly comb and brush, her night rail, and a spare set of clothes to change into once she could remove Libba’s uniform. The trickiest part would be Penelope. She couldn’t leave the puppy behind. Libba would fetch the dog and bring her out to the cart. Soon she would be Emily’s only companion.
Libba returned and helped Emily into the extra maid gown. Emily tucked her small bag of possessions in her arms while Libba fixed the white cap over her hair. If she kept her head down, she might yet escape.
Libba peeked out the door, then waved to Emily that the halls were clear. There was no sign of anyone; the upper manor hall was quiet. She walked briskly, head bent to the floor, her ears pricked for the slightest noise.
