Chapter Twenty-One
True to her word, Jess spent the ride to London sharing her plans, though nothing was certain except their return to London and her intention to take the bowl back to Verbonne once it was found.
Admittedly, there had been times when Derek had felt a bit superior mentally, but that notion died as she discussed the many angles and contingencies that depended on what she found around the next bend. By the time she paused long enough for him to ask a question, he was overcome by a bit of awe.
“Do you intend to take the bowl to Verbonne alone?”
She nodded. “It’s difficult enough to sneak one person onto a ship and then into a country.”
Somehow Derek had thought the danger to Jess would be over once they found the bowl, because then his part could—would—be completed. For her, though, the danger would just be beginning. She’d be in possession of the treasure itself, not just the map.
She couldn’t be allowed to face that alone. He’d purchase his own passenger ticket before he’d let that happen.
Jess continued, unaware of his newfound resolve. “How quickly do you think you could teach me about art examination?”
Derek frowned, dragging his mind back to the present. “Why?”
She sighed. “Because this is dangerous, Derek.”
“More so than I ever imagined,” he agreed, “but you aren’t getting rid of me.”
The fact that she was trying to do so stung. What about the something more they were missing? What about needing him? Had everything she’d said last night just been to placate him while they were still close enough that he could have made his way back to Lord Bradford’s?
“I know how to handle it.”
“How many people do you know who have gone up against a danger they knew how to handle and lost despite their skills and abilities? I don’t think one can go to war and not lose friends.”
She swallowed and dropped her gaze to the floor. “No, you can’t.”
“I’ll do whatever you tell me to. I’m not an idiot. I won’t stand between you and your adversary in some misbegotten idea that I can be a hero, but I will have your back.” He wanted so very much to be there for her. The more he learned of her, the more he pictured her as that woman on the rocks from The Grace of Oceans Breaking, watching the storm throw the ocean into turmoil. Lonely, desperate, but somehow still hopeful.
He didn’t want her to be alone anymore, but even if she didn’t want him, he needed her to stay safe. “If not me, take Jeffreys.”
She snorted. “And leave you alone? I don’t think so.”
“I’m not a threat to anyone.”
“Bradford, or anyone else looking for me, doesn’t know that. Anyone helping me is in danger. Physically you are the weakest link, and that is always the easiest to pull.” The sadness on her face left him wondering how many weak links she’d pulled in her days. Her gaze moved to the window. “I’ll not watch them take away anyone else I care about.”
Derek smiled at Jess’s confession of caring and then pushed his lips up into a grin because the maudlin emotion filling the carriage wasn’t one he was accustomed to getting from her, nor one with which he wanted to become overly familiar.
“Aw, Jess,” he said, hoping his teasing tone would pull her away from the heavy, dark feeling. “I didn’t know I meant that much to you.”
She groaned, but that look, the one that reminded him that a lost child still lurked inside her, fell away. In its place was an expression he thought might be a hope she was afraid to admit she held. He wanted to feed that hope.
“When this is all over and you don’t have to look over your shoulder anymore, what will you do?”
Her face went blank, invalidating his idea that picturing a worry-free, normal life would lighten her mood further. Instead, she looked like she was experiencing some sort of shock. Hadn’t she dreamt of such a day at some time? Wasn’t that the point of what she was doing?
“I don’t know.”
He searched her face for a sign that she was lying. If it was there, it was too well hidden for him to see. The very real possibility that Jess had always assumed her future didn’t extend much past the current moment stayed with him until they reached the inn, both lost in their own thoughts.
Jess was trying to be honest with Derek—really she was—but a lifetime of keeping secrets made it more than a little difficult.
Opening up to him had left her more vulnerable than she’d thought. No one in her world asked about the future. They all knew it wasn’t guaranteed. The only thing she had was the task ahead of her, so that was where she would direct her attention.
Her current task was to determine a way into the ambassador’s house. During the war, it had been watched constantly, along with the residences of a few other suspicious people. Nothing untoward had ever happened at the ambassador’s house. Nothing much happened there at all.
No one was ever allowed in.
The little inn where they’d stopped just outside of London wasn’t one of the better establishments, but it suited her purposes. In the common room, shabbily dressed animal herders shared stories and ale. Not a single one of them would have even thought to care about who was taking the upstairs rooms.
At least half of those rooms were empty, but Jess and Derek had only taken one of them, so as not to draw suspicion. Sharing a room still made Derek look a bit queasy, though, and after delivering her small trunk, he’d gone down to help Jeffreys with the horses.
Jess rummaged through the trunk, her frown growing. She’d put together a plan for tonight, but it appeared she hadn’t packed the necessary disguise. She was going to have to get it from Ryland’s.
The thought of her good friend made pain throb at the base of her skull. She hated to admit it, but he had been right. Jess needed help.
Despite her claims to Derek that she could do it all herself, with the potential pressure of Lord Bradford and the quickly encroaching deadline, it just wasn’t possible. It was time to see who was really willing to bestow those favors they’d assured her were hers for the asking over the years.
She remembered the codes she needed to write the messages, but she wasn’t sure exactly what she was asking for or how to send them. If she gave them to Ryland to deliver, he would consider himself fully involved and try to take over everything. She didn’t want that. Nor did she want someone helping her out of fear of the duke or the reputation he’d gained as a spy.
The table in the room was rickety, and the single chair was less than comfortable, but it was functional and, honestly, more than she’d expected to find at such a simple inn. She prepared a quill, smoothed out a piece of paper, and waited for the right words to come.
A knock sounded at the door, and Jess gave it a quick glance before picking up the quill, determined to write something. “Enter.”
The latch lifted and the door swung open to reveal Derek, wearing a dark frown. “Doesn’t it make sense to lock a door when one is expecting imminent danger?”
She shrugged, not about to tell him she’d left it unlocked in case he ran into trouble downstairs and needed to make a hasty retreat. “Danger doesn’t often bother to knock.”
“No, I don’t suppose it does.” He eased the door closed until a very proper three-inch gap remained.
Jess grinned. “Danger does, however, like to eavesdrop.”
His frown hardened, but he closed the door and reset the latch. The way he fidgeted and shifted his weight from foot to foot made it obvious he didn’t quite know what to do when closed in a room with her and not sleeping.
“Relax,” Jess murmured before blowing on the note she’d written. She’d settled for a basic request and a meeting time. That gave her a day or so to determine the details of what she needed to ask. “Imagine it’s a really large carriage.”
He glanced about the room. “I suppose one could fathom the idea of a bedchamber on wheels. I rather wonder that no one has thought of it. Not this large, of course, but doable.” He paused. “I suppose that’s really what the Romani wagons are, aren’t they?”
Jess shook her head, but she couldn’t help smiling as he paced the room, rambling about the possible contents of a tiny home on wheels.
“I’ve seen the exterior in paintings, of course, but never the interior. Very private people.” He frowned. “I wonder if they allow unmarried men and women to ride in them alone.”
“Derek,” Jess interrupted, trying not to laugh. “We’ve taken the room as a married couple. No one is going to think anything.”
He stumbled about the room as if looking for somewhere to sit. His options were limited to the bed and the floor, but she’d let him make that choice on his own.
The reminder of their pretend marriage had sent her thoughts skittering back to Derek’s question of what she intended to do after she was restored to her brother.
Would he expect her to marry? To live alongside him and create a new idea of normal? Marriage was something she’d never planned to experience, but what if it became a possibility? What would her future husband think of all the men she’d pretended to be married to for the sake of safety and disguise?
She snorted at herself as she laid out a second sheet of paper. Pretend marriages would probably be the easiest part of her past to explain.
Derek finally elected to perch himself on the edge of the bed, sitting with his back straight and feet flat on the floor. She opened her mouth to ask his opinion on what a man would think of her past but snapped it shut just as quickly.
The lines of communication were more open between them, but there was no need to bleed her thoughts all over him. Particularly when she wasn’t sure what to even call them. She was feeling emotions she hadn’t experienced in years—if ever. Derek had been more of an asset than she’d anticipated. He didn’t deserve her pulling him into another awkward moment that was unessential for survival or the success of their goal.
“What are you doing?” Derek asked, saving her from the mawkish road her mind had been crawling down.
Jess held up a folded message. “Calling in a few favors. It’s time to admit that I—we—need a bit of help.” She took a deep breath. “What sort of assistance would be most useful?” she asked Derek, surprising him into gaping a bit.
He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “I suppose that depends on what abilities your friends have.”
Friends probably wasn’t the right term for some of the people she was contacting, but she didn’t correct him. He offered logical and useful thoughts that would never have occurred to her. If those ideas were delivered with a few extraneous words and a miniature history lesson, well, that was what came from talking to Derek.
Finally, she threw her quill down and stretched her cramped hand as she finished her final words.
“Three requests,” she said, holding up the missives. “Now I just have to hope no one sees me traipsing about London to deliver them.”
Derek shoved his hair off his forehead. “Why don’t you use the Penny Post? Even if someone sees you drop a letter there, they won’t know where it goes. The letters will be delivered by evening.”
Jess started to protest and then stopped. What could possibly be more reasonable and hidden than using a system already in place to do exactly what she needed? Even if someone had followed her to London, they would have no time to finagle a way to intercept the post.
“That’s . . . a good idea,” she said slowly.
Derek grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Truly?”
“Yes,” she said with an answering grin. His enthusiasm was infectious, and she grabbed onto the rare moment of giddy discovery.
They ate a light meal, and then Jess took the letters to the Penny Post before strolling around aimlessly enough to make sure no one was following her.
Then she had Jeffreys drive her to Ryland’s house to retrieve what she needed for that night’s plan. Even though she’d slipped away and left Derek back at the inn, he stayed in her mind the entire time.
She could protect him, could go about her evening plans without returning to the inn to collect him. He would be angry, but he would also be safe. Was she willing to hurt him with yet another betrayal to save his life?