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  “So did he, but it seems you were in hiding from the law,” she clipped out in reproach. Her gaze flicked down to his leg, where she remembered Nick, too, had been injured that night behind the theatre.

  He noticed her glance and gave his thigh a pat. “No worries. I’ve had worse. I admit, the dashed thing smarted.

  “He aimed low; I aimed wide.”

  “And I nearly got my head blown off!”

  “Oh, come, it was an accident! You’re fine,” he informed her, though a prickly look of guilt passed behind his coal-black eyes. “Very well, I’m sorry! I’ll say it again. How many times do you want to hear it? Lord! Women.”

  Carissa stared at him, thoroughly puzzled by the man.

  Though she was certainly nervous sitting here with a man she knew to be a trained assassin and a mercenary, she kept her wits about her and tried to think what would best help Beau.

  She knew he wanted to find Nick. Perhaps she could delay him. Draw him into conversation and buy a little time until her husband came home. He should be back shortly from the interrogation. She swallowed hard, shoring up her courage. “You know, Beau thinks that you betrayed him.”

  Nick heaved a sigh. “Sorry again, but I can’t afford to care what Beauchamp thinks. It’s not his life, it’s mine.”

  “But he is your best friend, is he not?”

  Nick looked away.

  “How did he offend you that you’d turn your back on him?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I had no choice.”

  “He hasn’t given up on you, you know.”

  “Of course not. He’s Beau. He doesn’t give up on anything. Ever.”

  “You can still resolve this, you know, whatever’s wrong. I know he doesn’t think you are all bad—Lord Forrester, isn’t it?” she ventured, addressing him by his title.

  He nodded, verifying his name. “Look, Beau’s done nothing wrong, as I told him. I’m the villain here, we’re all very clear on that.”

  “Why did you betray him?”

  “Stop asking questions! I have not betrayed anyone!” he retorted, his dark eyes blazing. “I am sorry if they see it that way, but the Order does not own me!”

  She lowered her gaze. “Why don’t you stay for supper; then you can tell us both what happened and how we can help. I, for one, am very curious to hear how a baron ends up becoming a mercenary.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “He told you that?”

  She shrugged. “Well, I am his wife.”

  “Which is why I’m here.” He eyed her strangely. “You really don’t understand what this is right now, do you?”

  “Pardon?”

  He rolled his eyes. “God, you are naïve. I never thought a rake like him would go for such a dainty little miss, but—never mind. I came because I want you to deliver a message for me to our mutual friend.”

  “Tell him yourself, he’ll be home soon—”

  “Would you be quiet and let me finish a sentence?”

  “Sir, you will not hush me like a hound dog!”

  “Well, stop howling like one, then.”

  “Nobody’s howling. If you want to hear howling, believe me, I can do that—and all the menservants will come running. Is that what you prefer?”

  “Lady Beauchamp,” he corrected himself with profound politeness. “Will you please tell your husband that I came to see you? Just tell him you and I had a friendly little chat. Tell him I stopped by.”

  She furrowed her brow. “That’s the message?”

  He nodded, with a hard look in his eyes.

  “Well, that’s not a very interesting message, is it?”

  “Don’t worry,” he murmured rather coldly. “He will understand.” Lord Forrester rose from his chair and headed for the garden gate.

  Carissa stood, casting about for some other way to delay him. “So—you’re leaving, then?”

  “Quite a gift for the obvious, haven’t you?” he tossed out without looking back.

  “You’re welcome to stay! You don’t have to go! Wait, the gate’s locked! I can get the key—”

  “Don’t need it. But that was a nice try to delay me, Lady Beauchamp,” he remarked with a sly wink over his shoulder. “Just give him the message.” When he slipped out of sight behind a tall, mounded shrubbery, she picked up her skirts and hurried after him.

  Blast it, get back here, you annoying man!

  She could see why they were friends. They had a lot in common. The swagger, the wit. Aye, she thought, they were both equally maddening. “Lord Forrester! Nick!” she cried, just as he ran a few steps to leap up the side of the brick wall, hooking his hands atop it.

  She cursed under her breath as he vaulted over the top and dropped down lightly on the other side. Then he was out of sight, but she heard his running footsteps on the other side of the wall.

  Perplexed by his odd visit, she set her hands on her waist. Well! So, that’s that.

  Beau’s reaction was sure to be interesting, even if Nick’s simple message was not.

  Still, the brief visit left her uneasy. It was awfully bold of him to come here, she thought. Then again, she was learning fast that Order agents, even ex–Order agents apparently did not know the meaning of fear.

  When Beau got home, she told him right away what had happened, but she was unprepared for his reaction. Which was, in a word, rage.

  “He came here?” he thundered. “Did he hurt you? I swear to God, if he laid a finger on you—”

  “No, I’m fine!” She cowered from him slightly, for she had never seen her easygoing husband act this way before.

  “Did he harm you in any way, Carissa?”

  “No! He only startled me a little at first. He was amiable enough.” She shook her head. “It was the strangest thing! He apologized about the shooting, then congratulated us on our wedding. The main thing he wanted was for me to give you a message.”

  “What message?” Beau growled.

  “It wasn’t much,” she said with a shrug. “He just wanted me to tell you he was here.”

  “Did he, indeed,” he said in an icy tone. He let out a curse under his breath and walked away in seething fury. “Son of a bitch.”

  She furrowed her brow, bewildered. “Am I missing something?”

  He looked askance at her.

  “Tell me!” she insisted.

  He scowled. “He was threatening you, Carissa.”

  “What? No! Surely you are mistaken—”

  “No mistake. He did not make his meaning obvious, for he did not want to scare you. I’m glad to see he has at least that much decency left, not to go frightening a woman. No,” he said, “the message was for me.”

  “I don’t understand, what does it mean?”

  He looked at her grimly. She could see he did not want to tell her.

  “Please! If this concerns me somehow—”

  “It was a warning,” he ground out. “If you really want to know, he was making the point that he can get to you anytime.”

  Her eyes widened while Beau resumed pacing, nigh shaking with rage.

  Oh, dear. She suddenly felt faint. Well, when he put it that way . . . Gulp. This was, after all, a man who had already shot her. “You really think he’d try to—kill me?”

  “Hard to say. The Nick I know would never harm a woman. I hope to God he’s bluffing. But these days, who the hell knows?” He shook his head in brooding fury. “He must be in some damned pile of trouble because he is certainly not acting like himself.”

  “But w-why would he want to harm me?” she exclaimed, trembling and still shaken by this news. “What did I ever do—?”

  “Darling, all you did was marry me. That was your only mistake,” he muttered. “This has got nothing to do with you. This is a strike at me. Because I haven’t done as he asked and called off my people. In fact, I’ve put even more pressure on him through watchers and informants since our last little chat. Must have rattled his cage a bit. Still! To come near my wife? I’ll have his bloody head for
this!”

  Beau seemed ready to break the skull off anyone who got too close to him at that moment. The man was literally growling to himself.

  “You’re scaring me,” she mumbled, intimidated by his wrath.

  He cast her a baleful glance, then closed his eyes and rubbed his brow, visibly striving for calm. Hands on hips, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry.” When he opened his eyes again, he had managed to soften his expression. He looked at her with eyes full of regret as he shook his head. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to protect you. Bloody politicians kept me an hour longer than I thought! But you must know, whatever happens, I will keep you safe. You have my most solemn word on that.”

  “I know you will, husband.” She nodded, approaching him with caution. “And really, no harm done so far. I’m fine.”

  He drew her into his arms and held her for a moment. She could feel his big body still bristling with fierce, protective rage as he sheltered her in his embrace.

  “Normally, I’d send you off at this point to that estate where the other ladies are being guarded round the clock. But Nick’s an Order agent. He knows the location of all our safe houses.” He kissed her forehead as he brooded on the matter. “No,” he murmured at length. “I think right now the safest place for you is next to me. And if he comes near you again, I’m going to blow his head off.”

  “Shouldn’t we seek some answers first? We need to figure out what’s going on with him.”

  “You’re right. Information. Vickers!” he suddenly bellowed.

  The butler hurried in. “Yes, milord?”

  “Ready our things. We’re going to France,” he clipped out.

  “France?” Carissa cried, pulling back from his embrace. “What are you talking about?”

  “We’re going to get to the bottom of this. I have a few days before I’m due back before the committee. I should have just enough time to get to Paris and back, but we’re going to have to move quickly. You’re right. We need information. I have no idea what’s going on with Nick, but I know someone who will. I need to speak to Madame Angelique.”

  “Who’s that?” she breathed.

  “The conniving harpy who corrupted him, I wager. Have your maid pack a bag for you as well. Run along now. There’s no time to lose.” He nodded toward the staircase, his eyes flinty. “We sail with the tide.”

  Chapter 16

  Hours later, their Channel crossing was under way on a sleek schooner owned by the Order. A fine, strong wind propelled them onward toward the Continent.

  Overhead, the black skies were thick with stars, while the moon silvered the rolling waves.

  Carissa came abovedeck to find Beau standing at the rails, nose into the wind, in profile to her as he faced the rocking seas, a cool, focused intensity hardening his chiseled features.

  The high breeze tossed his hair back from his face and rippled through his long, dark greatcoat. Moonlight gleamed on his black boots and the various weapons strapped to his tall, sculpted body.

  He looked formidable and deadly, and yet, still, every inch the gentleman. Gazing at him, she knew he could handle whatever his enemies threw at him.

  And she could not believe he was hers.

  Feeling her presence, perhaps her desire for him radiating to engulf him, he turned from the sea, and when he saw her, he held out his hand to her to come to him.

  Carissa steadied herself. It made her a little nervous to go so close to the edge, but she could not resist.

  Venturing out across the slippery, seesawing deck, she joined him at the rails. He gathered her close and put her in front of him so she had a better view of the crashing waves and their plumes of foam.

  Keeping his arm around her waist, he let his big, warm body block her a bit from the wind. As he held her, she could feel the restless energy thrumming through him with all that was going on. Her own thoughts were a bit more primal. She leaned her head against him, wondering if it was wrong to want him so much every time they touched.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured in her ear.

  She made a low sound of assent; the continuous swirl of the waves mesmerized her.

  “Are you all right after that unpleasantness today?” he whispered at her ear. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted, caressing his arm to let him know that an Order wife would not be so easily intimidated. “What about you?” She shook her head. “This must be really hard for you. Having a friend turn on you like that.”

  He fell silent, brooding. Eventually, he shrugged. “At least it’s better than thinking they were dead. That was my worst fear before Nick finally showed up that night outside the theatre. But I can tell you one thing. I certainly wasn’t expecting something like this.”

  “Poor man,” she said, nestling against him. “You’ve been carrying so much on your shoulders. And such a hurtful thing, too. A friend whose help you thought you could count on—but he only made your problems worse.”

  “Yes, well,” he whispered ruefully, “I have a new friend now.” He kissed her on the cheek.

  She smiled, still gazing forward at the passionate, poetic crashings of the water though she was acutely aware of his body against hers.

  “You smell good,” he remarked as he nestled his face in her blowing hair.

  They stood in silence as he pondered his situation a little more. “I guess it’s mainly Trevor that I’m worried about. Lord Trevor Montgomery,” he explained, “the third man on our team. That’s how the Order divides us up, you see. Three-man teams that usually act independently but sometimes coalesce into a larger squad for bigger missions.”

  “Oh.”

  “Nick is holding Trevor as his hostage to try to preclude the usual punishment for his defection.”

  “What’s that?”

  He paused. “A bullet.”

  She turned to him and paled. “They’ll kill him?” Then she drew in her breath. “They’re not going to make you do it, are they? He’s your friend!”

  He shook his head. “After today, him coming after you like that, I don’t think there’s any friendship left.”

  “Don’t give up, Beau.” Her heart ached for him. She moved closer and hugged him. “Don’t write him off yet, especially not because of me. I wasn’t even that scared! He seemed like a good enough fellow. There might turn out to be a perfectly good explanation for all this.”

  “Then why wouldn’t he tell me that before?”

  “Maybe he’s trying to keep you out of it.”

  He considered this. “When I offered to help him, he did reply that he fights his own battles.”

  “You see? I wish you didn’t have to go through this. But try not to decide too firmly about him until we have the facts. Sometimes, when people do the wrong thing, they have a good reason. Maybe whatever it is with Nick, it’s not as bad as it seems.”

  He rested his jaw against her head. “You’re a very sweet person, do you know that? I’m glad I married you.”

  “As am I!” She smiled at him. He kissed her on the head. “I’m also glad that you let me come with you,” she informed him. “I’ve never been to France before, you know.”

  “Well, we won’t be there long. I’ll take you back some other time for a proper holiday, when all of this is over.”

  “I’d like that.” She looked up at him while some crewman called out the hour, eleven, and a few of them made some adjustments to the sails.

  The night voyage was risky, but the captain knew the route well; Beau had wanted the cover of darkness for their arrival. The war was over, but after twenty years of blood, the peasants throughout the French countryside were not always quite welcoming, Beau said, to Englishmen traveling alone. Arriving before sunrise would mean fewer eyes to watch and report to whomever on their movements.

  “So, where are we going, anyway?”

  “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying in the carriage.”

  “Oh, do I have
to?”

  “Yes, you do, my snooping lady.”

  “Why?” she protested.

  “Three reasons.” He tightened his arms around her waist, resting his jaw against her hair. The winds buffeted them both. “It’s dangerous. It’s full of unsavory characters, and it’s not the sort of place that a man wants the mother of his future children exposed to.”

  His answer left her even more intrigued, but she was sensible enough to accept his firm command on this. “Well, who is this woman you mentioned, then? You can tell me that, can’t you?”

  “Hmm. Madame Angelique. She’s long been a contact of the Order.”

  Carissa glanced at him in surprise. “Is she a spy, too?”

  “Angelique is many things. Mostly a survivor. When the French Revolution broke out, she was the toast of the demimonde. The sixteen-year-old mistress of some duke who went to the guillotine. But she somehow survived the Red Terror. Must’ve charmed the right men as the winds shifted. Now she owns a grand casino on the outskirts of Paris, part brothel, part gaming hell. She’s grown rich and quite powerful, in an underworld sort of way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She can get you anything you’d want to buy.”

  “Indeed?”

  “She deals in everything from secrets to weapons to, er, various types of pleasure for sale. She’s a sort of banker, too, for loans that need to be kept off the books. Conniving harpy,” he growled. “I’d wager anything it was she who helped Nick hatch this brainchild of hiring out his skills as a mercenary. He’s already had particular dealings with her in the past.”

  “What sort of dealings?”

  “I’m not sure you want to know. Well, it’s not the sort of thing a man discusses with his wife!”

  “Well, now!” She turned to him with a mischievous grin. “If the wife happens to be a lady of information, then the husband would be cruel to keep it from her.”

  “You are too much,” he muttered.

  “Tell me,” she commanded with an arch look.

  “Very well.” He cleared his throat a bit in reluctance. “As far as I know, Angelique took a bit of a fancy to Nick. She . . . likes Order agents.”