“It’s been two days, sir. I suggest you pray. She’s in God’s hands now.”
Through the pain piercing her skull, Elise heard the cryptic announcement as though a thick portal stood between her and the speaker. Something smelled foul, like lard mixed with herbs. She remembered the beating. Her mind snatched at disjointed memories of Goss and his henchmen, but the images swirled together in a gruesome haze. Sharp blades of agony sliced her skull and limbs, preventing the slightest movement. Her tongue felt thick against the walls of her lacerated mouth, making it impossible for her to speak.
“There must be something else you can do. You’re supposed to be the best surgeon in the city!”
Drake’s voice penetrated the fog. She wanted to reach out, console his obvious distress, but her arms felt as though someone had bolted them to the bed.
“I can’t lose her.”
The despair in Drake’s voice broke her heart. She tried to reassure him, but the darkness beckoned, and she was too weak to fight its call.
Drake prowled the solitary confines of the bedchamber, willing Elise back to consciousness. His concern for her outweighed his feelings of anger and betrayal. After three ghastly days to ponder Prin’s disturbing revelations, he was ready to climb the walls. Exhausted by the vigil he’d kept at his wife’s bedside, he stayed close nonetheless. Leaning over her supine form, he ascertained her breathing for the hundredth time. He reached for a cloth and dipped it in cool water to wet her lips.
In his heart, he ached for her, cursed the hardships she’d braved to create a better life for herself and Prin. He admired her loyalty, a quality he’d never known in any other woman, but her role in Anthony’s death tormented him. He feared without the Lord’s help his faith in her might never recover.
Elise fought to open her eyes, but her weighted lids declined to obey. As she came to wakefulness, she listened for some indication of where she might be. A window must be open. She could hear the faint chirping of birds. The lightest of breezes brushed her sensitive cheeks, chilling her heated skin.
A dull ache pulsed through her limbs, her jaw throbbed and her head pounded. She wiggled her toes. The fingers of her right hand moved, but those of her left felt crushed. She couldn’t fathom how, but she thought it might be broken.
“Elise?”
Drake. Anxious to see him, she found the will to open her eyes. As she struggled to focus, his dear face swam into view. He looked haggard, unshaven. His brilliant golden eyes were dull. Had he lost weight? She tried to smile, but the muscles of her face were stiff and sore.
“Thank God you’re awake!” He brought her left hand to his lips, and she realized he’d been holding it all along.
“Are you well?” she asked in a reedy whisper.
“I?” He swallowed thickly and raked his fingers through his hair. Strain pinched his mouth and lined his eyes. “You’re the one who has given us all a fright.”
She licked her scabbed lower lip. “Our child?”
With great care, he lifted her head and held a glass of water to her lips. “The child lives. Just as you will.”
She heard his determination and clung to it. Using all her strength, she lifted her hand to clasp the back of his. “I... I love you.” She wanted to say more, but her eyelids grew heavy and slid shut as weariness claimed her.
Drake dismissed the guards from Josiah Smith’s door and strode into the guestroom. He found the rotund tavern owner in a clean white nightshirt, lurching about the comfortably appointed room in a state of palpable distress. The man’s head was bandaged and his round face battered, but at least he was on his feet, Drake thought bitterly. More than he could say for Elise.
Smith’s face lit with fear the moment he saw Drake. He slumped on the edge of the bed. “How is she?”
“Little you care, Smith. My wife fares far more ill than you, apparently.”
Josiah’s hands shook until he clutched the rumpled sheets on either side of him. “Will she be all right?”
Drake chose to ignore the man’s concern. He nodded. “No thanks to you and your loose lips.”
“I had no choice!”
He bit back an infuriated growl. “I’m waiting to be enlightened on that score. How much were you paid to betray the Fox?”
Josiah sighed in resignation. “You know the truth about her then?”
Drake inclined his head.
“I’d never betray Elise for coin. I had to protect my family. Robin Goss and one of his minions broke into our home. They threatened to murder my wife and child if I refused to lure Elise into their net.”
“Where is your family now?”
Josiah hedged. “I’ve been told they’re safe.”
“Ah, I assume that means you’ve talked with Prin.”
Smith’s silence was an affirmative answer. He stumbled to his feet, his face crimped by the pain of his movements. “I need to see about their welfare myself.”
“Beaufort’s men are posted outside your door and yonder window. There’s little you can do to escape.”
“I can try. Wouldn’t you do the same in my position?”
“I wouldn’t be in your position, Smith. I know how to be loyal.” Drake paused at the door. His fingers gripped the frame as he regarded Josiah with scorn. “Do you happen to remember a spy known as Hawk?”
“Aye, I remember the pompous scoundrel well. He was an arrogant fool with a hateful sense of humor. Elise was the only person with any patience for him. I believe she considered him a friend.” Josiah’s face contorted with disgust. “The greedy Judas sold her out for silver. His betrayal nearly broke her. She hasn’t been the same since he died, but if you ask me, he deserved what he got.”
Unable to tolerate another moment in the colonial’s company, Drake turned to leave. “I suggest you rest and rebuild your strength, sir. As weak as you are, you’ll offer no sport when they hang you.”
A fortnight later, Elise sipped her hot tea in contemplative silence. Prin had warned her that Drake knew about her previous life as the Fox. Though he hadn’t mentioned it yet, she was convinced he despised her. Before he’d quit visiting her a week ago, the accusation in his eyes had been enough to make her tremble.
With a sigh, she ran her palm over the slight mound of her belly, thanking the Lord for His mercy toward her child. After the beating she’d endured, she knew how fortunate she was the baby lived.
Turning to face the window, she fortified herself with a breath of crisp autumn air. Since the night of her clash with Goss, she’d regained her strength bit by bit, but this morning was the first she’d felt recovered enough to confront her husband.
Her chamber door opened. Prin entered the room carrying a fresh set of candles to replace the spent ones beside the bed. She grinned. “Except for that sad frown, you’re lookin’ mighty fine this mornin’, Lisie. Them yellow bruises are still faint round your eyes and along your jaw, but at least you don’t look like a kicked raccoon anymore.”
Elise cast off her doldrums and offered a smile for her sister’s sake. “That’s good to hear. I think I’ll be healed before the week is out.”
“I doubt it,” Prin said matter-of-factly. “Sit forward and let me plump your pillows.”
She did as Prin bid, grimacing when her movement shot a twinge of pain through her ribs. “Where is Drake?”
“Probably in that study of his downstairs. He don’t come out much.”
“What do you suppose he’s doing in there?”
“Broodin’, I expect.” Prin shrugged. “He holed himself up the afternoon he talked to Josiah. Didn’t come out for ’bout a week. Now, at least, he sometimes goes ridin’ on one of them fine horses of his.”
Tears misted her eyes at how much he must be hurting. Please, Lord, don’t let this mess cause him to turn his back on You again.
“I wonder what he and Josiah discussed?” she said.
Prin shrugged. “I’m not sure. That same day I was told not to speak to Josiah anymore. I’m not even allowed to take him his food. Frau Einholt does that now. By the way, you best be careful what you say to that one. She acts like she don’t understand much English, but more than once I caught her with her ear to a door.”
Elise made a mental note to be careful around the housekeeper, then steered the conversation back to the Smiths. “Josiah must be distraught about Tabby and the baby.” She bore her friend no ill will for his part in handing her over to Goss. With his wife and child’s life at stake, Josiah had had little choice but to protect them. She was convinced no other inducement could have enticed him to betray her. “I know you said Kane found them and saw them to her parents’ home, but Josiah must be anxious.”
“I imagine so. He’s got to be frettin’ the British plan to hang him, too.”
Elise raised her hand to her throat. “I must say I’ve been concerned about that same fate myself.”
“Oh, bosh.” Prin rubbed her lower back, her stomach protruding now that she was further along in her pregnancy. “That husband of yours might have a temper a bull would envy, but he isn’t gonna let anything happen to you.”
“I’m not so sure.” Elise tipped her head against the pillows. She closed her eyes for a moment, her head throbbing with tension. “I’m a traitor in my husband’s eyes. What if he decides he can’t abide that fact?”
“He’ll forgive you.” Prin sat beside her on the bed and brushed the hair from Elise’s brow. “I never saw a man care for his wife so much.”
“You don’t know him like I do. Both his first wife and former fiancée betrayed him, but he gifted me with his trust anyway.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Now that he knows the truth, I’m sure it’s killed all his love for me.”
Later that afternoon, Elise was supposed to be napping, but she couldn’t sleep. Instead, she left her bed, pulled on a robe and went in search of Drake. Itching with nerves, but weak from weeks of little activity, she made slow progress down the stairs. She was gasping for breath against the smooth, wooden banister when the door of Drake’s study swung open. He entered the central hall.
“Elise!” He ran to her. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“I need to speak with you.” She clutched at the soft material of his shirt, basking in his strength. She’d missed him desperately. It felt so good to have him hold her.
“Why didn’t you wait until I came to you?” He cradled her in his arms and started back up the stairs.
“Now that you know about my past as a spy, I thought you might never come again.”
Hearing the hurt in her voice, Drake winced. He watched over her every night while she slept, but she had no way of knowing about his nocturnal visits. “I see Prin has told you of our conversation.”
“Yes,” she whispered. Her soft hair brushed his throat and her lavender scent tugged at his senses.
“Then perhaps you can understand why I have no wish to speak with you at present.”
“I know you’re angry,” she said in a small voice. “You must feel betrayed. But have my worst fears come true? Have I lost your love forever?”
He said nothing as he stalked across the second-story landing and into the bedchamber. The tight grip he’d maintained on his temper began to unravel.
“What do you expect of me?” he demanded, placing her gently on the bed. “You played me for a fool.” He turned his back on her. “You deceived me without conscience, but all of that fails to compare with—”
“What?” she cried. “Tell me, Drake. Tell me all the crimes you think I’ve committed. If you ever loved me, give me a chance to explain. Allow me to set right the wrongs between us.”
If he’d ever loved her? Was she insane? Loving her was a malady, and he had no cure. He berated himself for his weakness. His need for her was part of the war raging within him. Anger twisted him in knots. He shouldn’t love her, but he did with an intensity that bordered on madness.
He turned to find her sitting on the edge of the bed. Her lovely hair wreathed her face and fell in thick tendrils over her narrow shoulders and down her back. He should loathe the sight of her. His pride should prevent him from having the smallest thing to do with her. As it was, her beauty stung. Her faded bruises shone like badges of her deception. She was a traitor to England and all he held dear. But that wasn’t the worst of her sins. “Do you remember the Hawk?”
She blinked in confusion, then paled. “Hawk? What do you know of him?”
“I know it all, Fox. Including something you do not. His real name was Lord Anthony Amberly. He was my brother.”
“Your brother...?” The blood drained from her face by slow degrees. She shook her head in silent, shocked denial. Her hand slipped over her mouth as though she might be sick. Tears welled in her bright green eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “No. It can’t be!”
Thinking she might faint and topple off the mattress, he lunged forward in an involuntary bid to catch her. She scrambled to her feet and dodged his reach. He saw her grimace and judged her injuries protested the speed of her escape.
Icy cold swept through him. His hands clenched into fists. “You’re the killer I’ve been hunting these many months.”
“I didn’t kill him! I promise I didn’t.” Her face was wild, filled with the fear of a trapped animal. “You must believe me. He tried to hand me over to the enemy. I had no choice but to fight for my life. We struggled for his weapon. He fired the pistol, not I. It was an accident. I never meant for him to end up dead.”
Her confession touched him at his core. He could see the truth reflected in her face, but his pride fought the yearning of his heart. “So you say. Next you’ll try to convince me you had no knowledge of my station when we wed. Tell me the truth if you’re able. Did you marry me to work your wiles and spy on me?”
“I did know you were a duke, but I married you because I love you.”
He wanted to believe her, but he’d be a fool if he did. “And Prin’s fate had nothing to do with it, I suppose?”
Trembling, she grasped the bedpost for support. “By marrying you, it’s true, I assured her freedom sooner, but nothing could have forced me to pledge my life to you if not for love.”
“Surely you don’t expect me to believe—” Her pallor concerned him. “Sit down, Elise.”
“No.” She shook her head. Perspiration beaded her upper lip. “I want you to hear me out.”
“I can listen while you’re sitting down.” He moved with such speed he had her cornered before she could flee. He pressed her onto the feather mattress and covered her with a quilt. “I admire your determination, but you’ve the babe to consider. He’s the only good left in this charade of a marriage.”
She flinched as if he’d smacked her. The saner part of him regretted the cut, but under the circumstances it would have rung hollow to apologize.
Elise squared her shoulders and schooled her delicate features. Her chin quivered. “If you truly believe our union is a sham, then all is lost. How can I make you see the truth when your mind is already set against me?”
What could she say to ease the battle that raged within him? He should set her aside, end their marriage in whatever way possible. To choose her would be an insult to his brother’s memory, yet an unthinkable, unforgivable part of him burned toward Anthony for putting her in harm’s way all those months ago. He cleared his tight throat. “Indeed, what is left to say? Perhaps farewell is our only option.”
Shattered, Elise watched him storm from the chamber. Without considering the consequences, she ignored her protesting muscles and followed after him. He’d traversed most of the stairs by the time she crossed the landing and grasped the mahogany rail. “Drake, wait! You can’t be serious. We have much to say, and none of it includes goodbye.”
Spine rigid, he continued his exodus without a backward glance. Desperate, she ran down the steps, nearly tripping on the hem of her dressing gown. “Drake, please come back. I love you.”
To her relief, he halted before entering his study. He faced her. In her eyes, he’d never looked more like a duke. Cold and intimidating, his frigid manner belied the heat burning in his eyes.
“Don’t say those words to me again,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Why? You say you want the truth.” She refused to let him push her away. “Drake, please. Hear me out.”
Remembering the guards at Josiah’s door upstairs, she pursued Drake into his study, where the faint scent of leather provoked her already throbbing head. He slammed the door behind her. “You deceived me about Anthony.”
“No! I had no knowledge of Hawk’s relationship to you until you told me minutes ago. I didn’t kill him,” she repeated, eager to reach him now that he might listen. “Even so, I’ve agonized over his death.”
“You expect me to believe you suffered over the death of an enemy?”
“We were friends of a sort,” she hurried to explain. “He was a spy much longer than I, the first agent I was ever sent to meet. Everyone trusted him. Over time I felt I could trust him, too.”
“Yet you never allowed him to view your face.”
His sarcasm stung. “I needed to protect the fact that the Fox was a woman. I don’t know why Hawk wore a mask, only that he did. Perhaps he meant to conceal his identity as a lord.”
“Perhaps,” Drake conceded coldly. “Espionage is a shameful business.”
His steely condemnation hit her with dizzying force. Her fingers clenched the back of a green leather chair for support. She cleared her throat, frantic to cross the chasm widening between them. “I learned he had a lively, sometimes hateful sense of humor. More than once he played at turning me over to the redcoats. That night he threatened the same. At first, I thought he must be up to his usual tricks.”
Drake looked away. “That sounds like Anthony. Always enjoying a prank only he would find amusing.”
“I realized he meant serious business when he placed a pistol to my head.”
“What? I don’t believe you!” His gaze flashed to her face. “He put a pistol to your head? He could not have known you were a woman.”
“He learned within minutes, but cared not a whit.”
Drake clawed his fingers through his hair in a gesture that betrayed his anguish. She’d never imagined such a decisive man could look so torn.
Shaking with trepidation, she rounded the chair and took a hesitant step closer. “After I came to lov...after I agreed to wed you, I didn’t know how to tell you of my previous life. Truthfully, I didn’t want to. I convinced myself there was no need. Prin and Kane were free. I had you—everything I dreamed of. Even leaving America was not too high a price to pay for the life I longed to share with you. I reasoned the war would be over soon one way or the other, and none of what I’d done would matter in the end.”
“You planned never to tell me.” It wasn’t a question. “What other secrets have you concealed?”
“None, I promise. I don’t know how to convince you, but consider what you would have done if I had told you. I believe you would have sent me to the gallows. In fact, were I not carrying your child, I think you would see me there now.”
He stepped closer. A muscle ticked in his jaw. Waves of tension emanated from him, encircling her. His eyes were hard as flint. “It’s what you deserve. You’ve no remorse for your spying. My duty to my family and country require I turn you in.”
She blanched, but held her ground. “And our child? What will you tell him? That you had his mother hanged moments after he was born?”
He swung away, but not before Elise saw a glimpse of his inner torment. His pain stretched between them and pierced her own heart.
Outside, shouting erupted, giving them both a start. Elise looked toward the open window. She saw nothing except magnolia trees swaying in the cool breeze. A door slammed at the back of the house, pounding footsteps echoed along the central hall.
Drake whipped open the study’s door to find Kane sprinting up the stairs. “Miss Lisie! It’s over,” he shouted. “It’s over.”
“What’s all the clamoring about, man? What’s over?” Drake demanded.
Kane stumbled to a halt.
Elise looked past the foyer’s chandelier to see one of Josiah’s guards come into view on the upstairs landing. Kane spun on the step to face Drake. “The war, suh! Everyone’s hollerin’ it’s all over. The Patriots has won.”
“Blimey! You must be mad!” the soldier exclaimed.
Elise’s heart stopped in an instant of joy. She schooled her features to belie her excitement and sent up a prayer of silent gratitude. “How do you know, Kane? Where did you hear the news?”
As Kane’s dark gaze darted from Elise to each of the two Englishmen, and back to her again, his enthusiasm waned. “I jus’ come from the wharf, ma’am. News arrived by ship this mornin’. The British done surrendered at Yorktown, up Virginia way. General Washin’ton got ’em all tied up by land and the French fleet cut ’em off by sea. They had no where else to go.”
“When?” Drake asked in transparent disbelief.
“From what I heard, las’ week, suh.”
“The entire Southern army?”
Kane gave a quick nod. “That’s what everybody’s sayin’.”
Drake groaned. Elise’s gaze flew to the guard upstairs. He’d paled a shade lighter than his pristine white breeches.
“Lieutenant, I’m off to Captain Beaufort’s. Reposition your men,” Drake ordered. “If pandemonium breaks out in the city, I want my wife well-protected.”
The young soldier jumped to do Drake’s bidding. Kane had disappeared in the confusion. Elise guessed he’d gone to find Prin.
At the door, Drake gathered his tricorn and cape from the rack. He raised his eyes to meet Elise’s in a moment of heartrending silence. What could she say to soothe him? He believed the worst about her. And if Kane’s report were true, England, the greatest power in the world, had lost the jewel in its crown to a ragtag force of upstart colonials.
With no words to ease Drake’s heart or his pride, she stayed rooted to the spot, pleading silently for him to come to her.
He turned away. With haste, he took his leave, shutting the door between them on a note of haunting finality.