Page 62 of Lord Carlisle's Enticing Lure
Faucon left within the next few minutes. He’d come, gone, satisfied himself that Giselle was the captive he wanted, but gave no other news.
Chapter Twenty
“Iknow thiscottage.” Halsey reined in his horse.
“I had a man here last year,” said Kane. “We watched this cottage for months. Discovered nothing and no one.”
“I’ve been here, too. Four years ago,” Clive added as he gazed at the black-tiled structure with the old, thatched roof. “One of my agents told me about two Frenchmen wandering the beach. It came to nothing. We did not find them.”
Today, Halsey had been the one to take the four of them to this cottage on the beach west of Hastings. His two agents, Halsey told them, had spotted new activity here three weeks ago—and so they had continued to spy on the five people who had moved in.
Mallard and Watkins were the names of Halsey’s agents, and they knew Hastings like the backs of their hands. Halsey said he had hired the two men three years ago to report any odd happenings in the town. The two, forty if a day, were well known in Hastings. William Mallard owned the largest tavern on the west side. Jim Watkins was one of two blacksmiths in town. His cousin owned the other smithy.
Odds were that all who came to Hastings were known to these two. Even the smugglers who ran ashore could not hide from them. Mallard could tell when his competition took in wine from France or spirits from Holland. The pub keeper offered his smuggled wares with a bravado that set Mallard’s teeth on edge. Mallard and Watkinsespecially appreciated the way Lord Halsey paid them, too.
The door and shutters still held the ruby paint Clive recalled, even though the wood was chipped and battered from the salty wind and rain. “My father brought me here when I was perhaps…twelve? Fourteen? There is a small clearing of trees to the east.”
“No windows here on this side,” Langley noted. “How many to the other sides, Clive?”
“Only to the front. To the back is a door. A peephole too. A small window sits almost to the roofline so anyone inside cannot see out unless they stand on a chair.”
Langley grunted. “Here’s hoping they don’t think to use it.”
Clive snorted. “Or they are all short!”
Kane laughed.
Halsey tipped his head toward the road behind them. “I’ll ride back and tell our coachman to wait for a signal from one of us to advance.”
“He needs to get off the road,” Clive added.
Inside were four rifles and four more pistols. Kane had insisted on extra weapons. The others had agreed they were warranted.
“You worry others will come?” Halsey asked. “I agree. I’ll tell him.” And off he went back the way the four of them had come.
When he returned, Clive nodded toward the cottage. “Let’s take up positions to the east, back, front, and here. Wait until dark and reconvene.”
“Hopefully we have a cloudy night.” Langley said.
“Ten fifteen?” Clive took out his pistol from his holster and glanced at each of his friends.
*
In the greatroom, the three men and La Mère played cards. Drinking, too, since supper, they were boisterous. Having finished washing and drying the dishes, Giselle and Suzette readied for bed.
Giselle noticed that Suzette was tired of tying and untying her to take her outside. Giselle began to ask to go more often. That—along with her promise to the girl not to run—meant Suzette was more willing to remove the rope to both Giselle’s hands.
A small victory, but a good one. Giselle still could not access her reticule and the precious weapon she’d concealed there. But her release from her bonds even for a little while inspired hope. She just needed the right moment, the right advantage, to run.
She tired of this endless captivity. Two days had passed since Faucon had come and gone. She was weary of the monotony. Her gown was gone, along with the coins she’d sewn into the hem. Her reticule she’d not had access to. It sat, as it had from their arrival, on a stool by the front door. Untouched by anyone. If she could only get to it, if Suzette would not see her grab it, even with her hands bound, she would find good use for her handy little stiletto.
Suzette called to Franchot to get his assistance to untie Giselle’s hands and bind one hand to her own. This was how they went out the back door of the cottage a few times each day to relieve themselves. Franchot always tied a double knot very tightly, leaving marks on Giselle’s wrists. Running away, escaping her ties, was not a possibility. Suzette was young and kind to Giselle, but was not inclined to run away with her, nor to cut her free and let her run alone.
But tonight, as Giselle and the girl relieved themselves amid the cover of the forest, Giselle heard the snap of twigs caused by other living creatures. Upon a quick survey of the foliage around her, she noted a set of odd colors, shadowed in the moonlight. She saw not just verdant summer green of shrubs and undergrowth. Not just browns and beiges of tree limbs and bushes. Not just blacks of rotting plants. But a flash of a human hand. The wink of an eye. A sharp gray eye that focused on her and blinked twice.
Clive.
She breathed deeply. He had come. He’d found her, and she hopedto God he came with help.
