Misleading a Duke Read online

  Despite all they had been through, she giggled. “You may.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “What is in the basket?”

  Faith’s stomach growled as the scent of warm yeasty bread flowed from the bundle.

  “Have they not fed you?” Nick’s sharp question startled her.

  Resting a hand on his arm, she hoped to calm him. “This morning when they took you, but not since.”

  “I can survive without food. You must eat.” It was a command, and he crossed his arms over his chest to further emphasize his point.

  Faith removed the cloth from inside the basket and spread it out in front of them. Atop she placed a round loaf of bread hardly bigger than her fist, several slices of meat, and a wedge of cheese. She took the saved bread from her morning meal from her pocket and added that to the meal. “We will eat together, Nick, or I too shall abstain.”

  She imitated his stubborn pose and cocked her head, waiting for his response.

  Sighing, he relaxed. “Will you always challenge my authority, Faith?”

  Handing him a piece of the morning bread and a piece of cheese, she couldn’t help being amused. “Probably, Nick. If you wanted a girl who did as she was told, you wouldn’t have chosen a Wormbattle girl. The entire point is that disobedience got us sent away from home.”

  He nibbled the food. “One would have thought three years away would have cured you of those habits.”

  His teasing tones relieved her mind. It gave some proof his injuries were minor. Eating her bread as well, she said, “On the contrary, Miss Agatha teaches women to act as young ladies but to think for themselves.”

  “Good,” he said. “We shall need a great deal of cleverness to get out of this mess, Faith. Come morning, they will take me again and while I will try to stay alive for you, I cannot make any promises. You will need to find a way to escape. And”—he took a pause and stared at her with haunted eyes—“if you find a way out, you must take it and not worry about leaving me or anyone else behind.”

  “I am not leaving here without you and the servants, Nicholas Ellsworth. You can just put that out of your mind.” Her ire rose to a pitch where she had to take deep breaths to control it.

  “Do all Wallflowers have such a stubborn streak and temper?” He picked up her hand and kissed the knuckles before returning to his bread and cheese.

  “No. Mercy is level-headed and Aurora rarely gives in to her temper. I generally hide my own, but I feel these circumstances warrant some emotion.” She ate the last of the morning bread, then broke the new loaf into four pieces.

  The key in the lock froze them both.

  Joseph Fouché pushed Jane inside the cellar. “Wine!”

  Jane ran to the casks and filled a large carafe, then ran back up the steps.

  All the while, Joseph stood near the door and stared at Nick, unblinking. His eyes were black and his nose swollen, though he still managed to be smug.

  Nick faced his old friend and enemy but said nothing and made no move to stand. Perhaps the effort would have been too much, or he might have worried about consequences to Faith if he angered the spy further.

  “Enjoy your supper,” Joseph crooned mockingly as he stepped out and locked the door.

  Nick’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t imagine they’ll return tonight. We are safe for now.”

  Safe was a relative term. Faith didn’t feel safe. She’d seen some horrible things done to her friend Aurora, but she never dreamed she would be so close to the danger. The entire point of the pact she’d made with the other Wallflowers was to make sure they would all remain safe. “Nick?”

  He stopped nibbling on the bit of meat in his hand. “Yes?”

  It was important to ask the questions that haunted her. “Are we now beyond the point where you intend to keep your past exploits from me?”

  Once he’d eaten the remains of his food, he gulped down some of the ale. “I’d say we are quite far beyond that point, sweetheart. Ask your questions.”

  She liked the endearment more than she should. Even in this ridiculous situation they should behave as a lady and a gentleman. Shaking off the stupid notions ingrained in her from birth, she swallowed the last of her bread. Her stomach finally settled down. “The things being done to you by your old friends. You have done the same to others?”

  The swelling in his eyes had lessened and the barest bit of blue stared out at her. “I have beaten people to gain answers.”

  Her stomach heaved and she forced herself to accept that some things happen in war, things she wouldn’t like to hear about. “Do you think they will stop before they kill you?”

  Carefully, he wrapped the remaining food in the cloth and placed it in the basket. Then he groaned as he eased himself back to lying with his head in Faith’s lap. “No. They will either kill me because I don’t tell them or they will kill me once I do tell them. If I told them something, they might keep me alive for the purpose of gaining more information.”

  “Then tell them and stay alive.” She toyed with his hair, careful not to touch parts of his face and neck that were covered in bruises and welts. The cut over his eyes needed some salve or it might fester. The dirt and grime of the cellar would not help that situation.

  Nick hugged her thigh and settled in. “I cannot betray England for my own sake, and not even for yours.” Regret laced his words, but they were unwavering.

  “I know, but can’t you lie?” she whispered.

  He stilled. “Lie?”

  Leaning down so that her mouth was inches from his ear, she said. “Isn’t that what you spies do, you lie in the name of this country or that? Tell them a lie, but just one small lie. Make it a good one. They will want to keep you alive, thinking you have more to tell. You may want to faint as well. Aurora use to pretend to faint all the time. Radcliff didn’t enjoy beating her if he thought her unconscious already. It was an excellent way to lessen the beatings.”

  Nick pressed up with his arms on either side of her legs and his face an inch from hers. “I hate that you know this much about such things, Faith. However, this is a rather brilliant idea.”

  He kissed her hard on the mouth. “Ouch! Lord you taste good, but that hurt more than I’d like our kisses to.” He touched his swollen lips.

  “Perhaps more gently then,” she said, and rubbed her lip along his.

  Nibbling her top then her bottom lip, he sighed against her and their breath mingled. “Will you marry me, Faith?”

  Her pulse drummed so loudly in her ears, she’d almost missed the question. “Perhaps you should ask me again when this is all over. By then you will be in a more advantageous position and your desires may have changed.”

  Returning to her lap, he pressed his head against her. Despite his size, he fit with her like two halves long separated and been made to lie in comfort. If they had been on a summer picnic and found a nice tree to rest under, it would have been perfection. “I know what I want, Faith. I knew a long time ago. However, as it is possible my past rearing its ugly head might have hampered any hope of your liking me, you are wise to wait and see if I survive the next few days, before you commit.”

  “That is not what I meant.”

  He continued in the same kind, warm tone. “Besides, whatever is left of me if I do live might not be at all appealing to any lady. You deserve a whole man, and I may not be worth a shilling by the end.”

  Leaning back, she closed her eyes and kept her fingers running through his hair. “Whenever you think you can take no more, you must promise me you will remember three things, Nick.”

  “Your hand feels so nice.” He relaxed against her by degrees. “What three things, sweetheart?”

  “Lie about some bit of English politics, faint, and I will grant you favors if you will live through this.”

  He rolled so he could look up at her. “Just to be clear, you want
me to lie and fake losing consciousness?”

  “Yes,” she said, running her fingers along his stubble-covered jaw.

  “Are you lying regarding the last?” The blue of his eyes peeking through his swollen lids glowed in the flickering light.

  “I will never lie to you again, Nick.” She kissed his mouth but took care not to hurt him. “Now sleep.”

  He took her hand and kissed it before rolling onto his side and relaxing. “I have quite a lot to live for, it would seem.”

  A smile tugged at her lips as she let exhaustion lull her to sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Nick woke in time to light another candle before the light went out and left them in total darkness. He positioned Faith on her side and bundled his coat under her head.

  He crouched a few feet away and watched her sleep.

  Sore, he knew he’d gotten off easily the day before. Joseph and Jean-Claude would not be as kind when they came for him again. His only hope was that Charles wasn’t entirely comfortable with torture. However, he needed Charles to keep the other members of the household safe.

  If he died before he could secure Faith’s safety, he would have failed his life. The notion sent a shudder through him. Even after lying two nights in a cellar and caring for him, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It was unbearable to think of harm coming to her because of the choices he’d made for his life.

  No. He would find a way to get her and the three servants to safety. It might well be the last thing he did, but he would find a way.

  Faith stretched like a cat and opened her eyes. “You kept the candle lit.”

  “It was a near thing, but I woke in time.” He remained where he was. He didn’t want whoever came to collect him to see his affection for Faith.

  She sat up. “Thank you. I cannot bear the darkness.”

  “How will you ever forgive me?” He sat in the center of the floor and crossed his legs. His heart ached with regret.

  “This is not your fault, Nick. There is nothing to forgive.” She took the cloth from the basket and nibbled some bread before offering the rest to him.

  He obliged her without getting too close. “It is all my fault.”

  “Just remember the three things I told you. We shall discuss anything else when we are all safe.”

  It was impossible for anyone to be so forgiving. “Tell me about your childhood.”

  “Why in the world would you want to hear about that?” She scoffed and finished the meager food.

  “I want to know how you became so fierce. You look like a lamb, but inside there is a lioness waiting to pounce.” Nick adored both the gentle and ferocious sides of Faith.

  She smiled and tried to calm her wild curls.

  Her joy died as the key turned in the lock.

  Jane ran in first. She placed a basket of food by Faith and gathered the empty basket. “I wanted to bring you a blanket, but it was not permitted, my lady.”

  “I’m fine, Jane. Thank you.”

  Charles frowned in the doorway. He surveyed Faith and Nick. “Come, Nicholas. Your reprieve is over.”

  Faith glowered at Charles. “Sir, is there nothing you can do? This treatment is ungentlemanly.”

  With only the slightest edge of regret in his eyes, Charles nodded. “It is that, my lady. Nothing about war becomes a gentleman.”

  “We are not at war here in this house.” Faith’s voice rang with indignation and valor.

  Charles shrugged. “On this point, we must disagree.”

  Before Faith went too far with whatever words stirred in her pretty head, Nick walked to the door and preceded Charles up the steps.

  At the top of the steps, Jane scurried toward the servants’ stairs while Charles directed him toward an office at the back of Parvus. Before they reached the door, Charles said, “She is quite a woman, Nicholas.”

  Nick shrugged.

  “Are you in love with her?”

  The question might have been innocent and born out of genuine curiosity and even care, but Nick couldn’t risk that there was another agenda. “I know nothing of love, Charles. Do you?”

  “I can see that she cares for you.”

  “She is a slip of a girl who tricked me into coming here for the purpose of trapping a duke into marriage. I should have left immediately, but planned to toy with her for a few days. In hindsight, I should have followed my first instinct and left as soon as weather permitted.” It was a simple thing for Nick to lie to Charles. His pledge to stay honest applied only to Faith. Any other aspiration to be truthful would have to wait for better times, at least where his old friends were concerned.

  Charles laughed. “I should have known better than to think your cold heart could be captured.”

  “Indeed,” Nick lied.

  Inside, Joseph and Jean-Claude sat on the only two cushioned chairs in the sparsely decorated office. The bookshelves were bare and there was no desk. Since Geb only used the castle for hunting or as a getaway from the city, a proper work space hadn’t been important.

  Joseph turned, his grin pure evil. His nose was less swollen than the night before, but his eyes were both ringed black underneath. “I see you survived the night. Your injuries do not trouble you much?”

  Touching the bruise under his eye, Nick smiled. “It will take more than this to break me, Joseph. You should know that.”

  “Ah, but we thought perhaps the young lady would persuade you to a more sensible path.” Joseph got up and strode to the center of the room. His stare might have been enough to break a lesser man.

  The hair on the back of Nick’s neck stood up. If they made threats to Faith, he didn’t know how he would protect her. The best he could do was pretend she meant nothing and hope that would keep her safe. If Joseph or Jean-Claude knew his true feelings, they would use that information to destroy him, and Faith would suffer for it.

  Charles pushed Nick forward. “The girl is insignificant. She means nothing and has no information. She is some kind of pawn in the game between Nicholas and the Egyptian, Arafa.”

  Always listening, Jean-Claude finally stood and joined them in the center of the room. “Perhaps, but that is a matter for later. Right now, I want to know where the English army plans to move in the next month.”

  It wasn’t easy to hide his relief at the focus moving back to him. Nick felt like a hound dog surrounded by hungry wolves, but that was far better than Faith’s life being in jeopardy. “What makes you think I have any contact with Drake, since I am no longer working for the Crown?”

  A horrible laugh gurgled from deep in Joseph’s chest. “No one leaves the service. You must think us imbeciles to believe such nonsense.” His thick French accent rang with derision.

  “I am a duke, Joseph. It is not as if my titles came from frolicking to the whims of a king or emperor. My father was the duke before me, and his father, for seven generations. The Crown can command me, but I am not without power. I left the service at the behest of His Royal Majesty. I do not hear from Francis Drake on the comings and goings of the troops as I once did. Do you know nothing of English nobility? Oh, but of course, you wouldn’t.” Nick knew it was foolish to bait them by deprecating their bestowed titles, but the further their thoughts were from Faith, the better.

  Jean-Claude stepped up until he was inches from Nick and slapped his face hard enough to spin Nick’s head. “Be mindful of that tongue, lest I cut it out of your filthy English mouth.”

  Nick’s hand fisted of its own accord, but he held back striking the powerful spy. He might kill Nick on the spot and then take his anger out on Faith. Keeping her safe and making sure she and the servants got away unharmed, was the only thing that mattered. Nick held his fist and his tongue in check, but kept his gaze fixed. Faith’s plan was sounding better, but it was too soon to give anything away. This would take time, and time w
as what he needed. Help might arrive, if Nick could hold out long enough without dying.

  Joseph ended the staring duel, with a hand on Jean-Claude’s shoulder. “Strap him down, and we shall see if his caustic tongue is of any use to us before you cut it out.”

  The center of the room was empty, save for four ropes looped at the ends. Each one was secured to a spike beaten in to a corner.

  Jean-Claude knocked Nick to the stone floor, with a hard swipe to the leg.

  Nick went down with a thud and pain stunned his knee, which hit first. He fought briefly against the three men binding his legs and arms but soon found himself facedown on the stone, his arms wide above his head and his legs spread; he likely looked like a prostrate version of da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man.

  Someone grabbed the back of his blouse and tore it down the back.

  “Is this necessary?” Charles asked. He never could stand the sight of blood.

  “I want the locations and movements of George’s army.” Joseph’s voice was almost as sweet as it was deadly. “If Nicholas would give them to me now, he could spare himself this agony.”

  Charles knelt on the floor and put his face down to meet Nick’s gaze. “Nicholas, be reasonable. Tell us what we ask and your death will be quick and painless. I will even guarantee the safety of the girl.”

  It was better to remain silent than to risk giving away some bit of his soul where Faith was concerned. Nick closed his eyes.

  “Do not say I didn’t try to be merciful,” Charles said.

  Jean-Claude laughed. “I’m glad he is as stubborn as ever. It will give me great joy to rip the information from him one lash stroke at a time.”

  “Do not kill him before we have what we need, Jean-Claude. I will be very unhappy if he dies too quickly.” A chair scraped the stone when Joseph sat.

  Nick observed Charles’s feet as he rounded the room to watch the spectacle with Joseph.