Page 81 of Wicked Designs
“What?” How could Evangeline know about Blankenship?
Evangeline hesitated, and the first hint of genuine emotion trespassed across her features. “I will be honest with you, I believe it would suit us both better.MonsieurBlankenship came to my residence. He told me of your abduction. I sensed right away he was… I forget the word…” A tiny crinkle furrowed her brow.
“Mad?” Emily supplied.
“Oui. Mad as Robespierre. He paid me to come here and provide information on you. He has more power than you would expect. Consequences do not matter to him, only getting what he wants. But then you know this.”
“Yes,” Emily admitted.
“What you do not know is that he’s hired men to retrieve you. Mercenaries, I am told. They are the lowest, vilest of men. Men who would happily murder Godric and his friends if they tried to protect you.”
Emily felt the blood drain from her face. “How do you know this?”
“MonsieurBlankenship boasted of his scheme. I do not wish to see bloodshed. It is vile and even I do not want to see Godric or his companions harmed. Youmustleave this place and convinceMonsieurBlankenship you have left, or I am certain he will harm Godric and the others.” Evangeline plucked at one of her white silk sleeves but the woman’s hands trembled slightly. She was telling the truth.
“He… No… I can’t leave, even if I wanted to,” Emily said, more to herself than Evangeline. She knew that, between her love of Godric and his own iron hand over her freedom, she could never leave. It would be impossible.
“It is not an easy decision, I understand. You are a pawn in other men’s games. Although I am loath to admit it, at the moment, I am as well. Pawns are always sacrificed. It is not fair, but that is our lot,n’est pas? If you do not go, Godric will die.”
Evangeline was right. Godric would only get himself killed trying to protect her. What choice did she have? She was a pawn.
“The thing about pawns,” Emily said, almost to herself, “is if they reach the other end of the board, they become a queen.”
A smile flitted across Evangeline’s lips. “You play chess.Très bien.MonsieurBlankenship expects you to come to him at once, and though it is not my place to say, I think you should not go to him. I wish you gone from Godric’s life, but I do not wish you to fall into the hands of a madman. Find someone to take you in. You are a beautiful girl, and I believe you are no fool. You canfind a protector.” Again, she paused, as though lost in memories. “It is how I survived. I am still crossing the board, as it were.”
Emily wasn’t sure how to react. She was taking advice from Godric’s former mistress and finding she reluctantly admired the woman. “Th…thank you, Miss Mirabeau.”
Evangeline nodded and left her alone.
Emily couldn’t let Godric or the others get hurt, which meant she would have to leave immediately. But she needed to find Jonathan Helprin first. Jonathan was driving the cart to Blackbriar for supplies, that much she knew. Jonathan’s open friendliness with Godric’s friends was improper, even rebellious after a fashion. It was that hint of rebellion she was pinning her hopes on. If she could convince Jonathan to help her escape, for Godric’s sake she might have a chance.
She turned and ran straight into Godric’s butler.
“Simkins!”
He bowed and stepped back. “A thousand pardons, Miss Parr. I did not expect anyone to leave the drawing room so early.”
“Don’t apologize, Simkins! The fault is mine. Could you please tell me where Mr. Helprin is?”
The butler’s white brows winged upward in surprise. “His Grace’s valet?”
Emily nodded. “Yes.”
“I believe he is in the servants’ quarters.” He seemed suspicious. “Has he incurred your displeasure?”
“No. I merely wished to see him briefly.” If Simkinsdidn’t trust her, her plan for escape would unravel in a matter of minutes.
“Well then, good night, Miss Parr.” Simkins smiled, bowed, then slipped into the drawing room, leaving her alone in the hall.
Emily dashed towards the servants’ stairs. After getting directions from a footman, she found Jonathan’s room and flung open the door. He sat on the edge of his bed. His white lawn shirt was half unbuttoned, and in his lap rested one of Godric’s fine hessian boots, which he was presently polishing.
He glanced up in surprise. His green eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of her alone. For a second Emily regretted the decision to come to him for help. She hadn’t forgotten the way he’d tossed her over his shoulder and carted her off to Godric when she’d crawled out the study window.
He set down the boot and stood. “You should not be alone, Miss Parr. I am obliged to return you to His Grace.”
“No, wait! I need to speak with you…” She started strong, but her tone became uncertain. Her heart skipped a beat as Jonathan advanced towards her. Had she made a mistake in thinking she could trust him, that she could persuade him to help her?
“With me? What would a proper young lady have to say to a valet?” He gave that same devastating half-smile Godric often flashed at her. He moved one arm around her body to swing the bedroom door shut behind her. She was trapped now, in more ways than one. Drawing a deep breath, she forced herself to remember that thisman cared for Godric and it was that loyalty which she hoped would save Godric’s life.
