Surrender (30 page)

A stunned silence greeted her words. Julianne stood up, eyes flashing. “You are wrong.”

Evelyn shook her head miserably. “I wish I was wrong but I know what I heard.”

“I cannot believe you think him a French spy!” Julianne cried.

Evelyn finally stood up, as well. Was she now alienating her friend and hostess? “No one is sorrier than I am! I know what I heard. Jack is selling out this country to our enemies! I begged him to deny it. He did deny it—but so poorly, as a genuine denial was impossible to make!”

“No, he is not a French spy. He would never do such a thing.” Julianne’s eyes flashed, but she was pale. “You do not know Jack the way that I do. He appears to be a French spy, but appearances are only that! I cannot believe that you love him as you say you do, but you do not trust him.”

Evelyn hugged herself. Hadn’t Jack asked her to have faith? “I pray you are right.”

“I am right. My brother is a patriot,” Julianne said. “And one day, you will realize it.” She walked to the door and opened it, then turned, found a bell and rang it. “You must be tired. Gerard will show you to your room.”

* * *

A
NOTHER
NIGHT
,
ANOTHER
inn, another clandestine meeting, Jack thought grimly, pausing on the threshold of a dark, crowded public room. It was raining, and as he shook the rain from his broad shoulders, he gazed through the smoke and shadows at the crowd.

He saw no one unusual—just ordinary farmers and tradesmen, busy imbibing rum and ale, smoking tobacco and playing cards. The conversation was loud and raucous.

Lucas stood up, gesturing, in a dark corner of the room. Jack nodded and pushed his way through the men seated at the tables, now raking the rain from his damp hair.

Lucas remained standing, looking terribly elegant and out of place in his dark brown velvet jacket and white lace shirt. Warlock was seated, and because this corner of the room did not receive any illumination from either the unlit tapers on the table or the central fireplace, and he was clad entirely in black, he could barely be distinguished.

Lucas threw his arm around him briefly. “You are late.” There was a question in his eyes.

Jack winced—his injuries still hurt. “There was a British frigate leaving Dover. I had to lie low until she passed.”

“Are you hurt?”

Lucas never missed a trick, Jack thought. He parted the neckline of his shirt and lowered it, revealing the top of the bandages he continued to wear. Without the support, his ribs hurt more. Then he took his own seat, his back to the crowd. Normally he would not sit so indifferently, but he knew he could trust the spymaster and his brother to watch out for British soldiers and French spies. And with his back to the crowd, he could not be recognized.

Finally, with some tension arising, he met Warlock’s dark, burning gaze.

“What happened?” Warlock asked almost casually.

“I was given a warning by LeClerc,” Jack said, smiling as if indifferent. He shrugged. “I was told to make certain my loyalties are not compromised.”

Lucas’s expression tightened as he poured Jack a glass of red wine. “
Are
you compromised?”

Jack now stared at Warlock. “For some odd reason, they have decided to become suspicious of me.” He had no intention of involving Evelyn any more than he had already. Warlock did not need to know that she was his lover, or that the British had sought him out at her home. But he would want an explanation, and Jack had devised one.

Almost an entire week had passed since he had last seen her—and told her that they could not continue any association. By now, she was at Julianne’s, surely. And there, she would be safe from the repercussions of the war games he played.

His heart ached as he thought of her. He doubted he would ever forget the last time they had made love—or her eyes and expression when he had said that this was goodbye. He despised himself for so recklessly putting her directly in the path of danger. He could not believe he had been so selfish. But then, he had not cared so much about her when they had first met—desire was not affection.

Warlock’s dark gaze was intent. “I cannot have you under suspicion, not now. You must prove your loyalty to them, within the next few weeks.”

“I beg to differ!” Lucas shot back with anger. “So it is acceptable if he is under suspicion after Quiberon Bay?”

“I hardly said such a thing.” Warlock was calm. “So why don’t we begin with the facts? Something—or someone—must have caused LeClerc to doubt your integrity.”

Jack took a sip of the wine, which was too sweet, too weak bodied and inadequate. Warlock would eventually hear that Evelyn was at Julianne’s, but Jack would make certain he believed Lucas responsible for that. In fact, he did not trust Warlock, not as far as Evelyn was concerned. Warlock would always put Britain first, above anyone and everyone. He might help protect her at first, but in the end, he would not think twice about sacrificing her if he had to.

Every liar knew that telling a part of the truth deflected suspicion. So did every spy. “I helped a French émigré retrieve valuables from her home in France. The task required of me was too easy, the compensation too great, for me not to undertake it. As it turns out, LeClerc discovered the association. He did not believe I was simply being well paid to help a beautiful damsel in distress. He has chosen to think I was on some secret mission. And unfortunately for me, I was taken by surprise and then warned, and I have the battered ribs to prove it.”

Warlock regarded him, as did Lucas. It was his brother who said, “Had you not slept with her, you might not have raised doubt in LeClerc’s mind!”

Jack smirked. “Well, as I said, she was beautiful—and the compensation was simply too great to refuse.”

Warlock drummed his fingers on the table. “Stay away from her. You should not be associated with a French émigré now.”

“I believe I have learned my lesson.” But he thought of Evelyn, and his heart ached, making it hard to maintain a smug facade.

Lucas was staring, as if he knew the story was just that, and incomplete. But then, his brother knew him better than anyone. “I have never liked this double game for you. I like it even less now.” He turned to Warlock. “Jack is under suspicion, and the timing could not be worse. We should reverse places. I can take over Jack’s intrigues, and no one will think anything of it, as I am his brother. Jack can return to his life as a smuggler outwitting the revenue men.”

Warlock’s dark brows lifted. “I cannot simply switch you and Jack and you know it—even if I were inclined to do so, which I am not. Jack has been brilliant slipping in and out of France as he does, and his ship thus far has never been beaten in battle, or defeated in a race.”

Jack stared at them both. He had been supporting Cadoudal for almost an entire year now. Their relationship had become a personal one. No one knew as well as he did how desperate the rebels were for arms and supplies, how they lived in constant hiding, on the run, when they were not engaging the French troops. No one knew as he did how deeply they hated the republicans, and how determined they were to liberate the Loire Valley—even if it meant death.

“I don’t know if I could turn my back on the rebels now, even if Warlock ordered me to,” he said to Lucas. And he thought of Evelyn again, who had been left widowed, without any means, and who had been, until recently, living alone at Roselynd. She needed a protector and a champion, but that could not be him.

Warlock looked pleased. “Do not let anyone else hear you speak like such a patriot.”

Lucas shook his head. He said to Warlock, “How will Jack survive his perfidy if all goes well?” Then he glanced hard at Jack. “A date has been set.”

Jack tensed, surprised. A date for the invasion of Quiberon Bay, led by the Comte D’Hervilly, had been chosen. This game was now rapidly being played—and would soon have winners and losers. He had never doubted his ability to survive these war games until now. But he had to consider how he would be one of those to triumph—and survive. Now he understood why his brother was so concerned about him. One misstep and he would be uncovered....

Warlock ignored the question. He said, “Cadoudal must meet our force on June 25 with his entire army.”

They would be on land on the peninsula on June 25. “I need details—he will want them,” Jack said swiftly. And in spite of the reservations he had so recently begun to have, excitement began. The invasion had been a year in the planning! Finally, it would come!

“D’Hervilly will command thirty-five hundred troops—two-thirds of them are French prisoners of war. The naval squadron will disembark from Plymouth on June 23. There will be three warships and six supply ships, with enough supplies for forty thousand troops.” Warlock had been leaning forward, and speaking in a near whisper. Now, he sat back, appearing savagely satisfied.

Jack’s pulse was racing. Cadoudal would be thrilled to hear this news! Finally, they could drive General Hoche and the rest of the French army from the Loire Valley!

But so much luck was involved in an operation like this one. Other French spies might discover what Warlock had just relayed; the squadron could be espied approaching France, warning the enemy of the impending invasion; Cadoudal might be thwarted in his efforts to join the invading forces....

His heart thrummed. An entire year of secret meetings, debates and planning had gone into the invasion of Quiberon Bay. He intended to be a part of the liberation of Le Loire. Evelyn needed a hero, but he could not be that hero, not now and probably not ever.

He should not feel dismayed—he should be pleased. His life was the sea—his life was danger. Now his life was the war. He had never wanted anything else or anything more.

“When can you meet with Cadoudal?” Warlock asked.

“I will set it up for some time in the next week,” Jack said. His mind raced. He usually used a network of couriers to arrange meetings like this. Now he realized it was too dangerous. He would go to France directly, and use his own resources to contact Cadoudal, even if it meant he would have to drift about the Brittany coast for several days, hiding from both the British and French navies, until contact could be made. The fewer people who knew about this meeting, the better.

“We need to feed LeClerc misinformation,” Warlock said, interrupting his racing thoughts. “Give him a date in July for the invasion—also tell him we will land at St Malo.”

“You will be dead by the time July comes,” Lucas said harshly.

Jack looked at him. “I have no intention of dying in July—or at any other time.” But now alarm began.

If he betrayed LeClerc as he had been instructed to do, the Frenchman would seek vengeance upon Evelyn and her daughter.

“He will have his every suspicion confirmed,” Lucas said, his gray eyes flashing. He turned to Warlock. “You cannot mean to sacrifice my brother to your cause, not after all I have done for you!”

“Why would I wish to sacrifice one of my best agents?” Warlock was bemused. “Jack can talk a good game. No one is as swaggering or has as much bravado. I have every confidence in him. He will talk his way out of a noose if he has to. However, after the invasion, Jack can remain in Britain for a few months, even a year, if need be, until any danger has passed.”

Jack did not hear Warlock. LeClerc would know he had been used and betrayed, and no amount of talking or hiding would convince him otherwise. And LeClerc had threatened Evelyn.

But the liberation of the Loire Valley was at stake—as were the lives of thousands of British and French émigré troops.

Jack realized both men were staring at him. Was he wearing a ghastly expression? “You may have confidence in my powers of persuasion, but I am going to have to kill LeClerc,” he said very softly. He could think of no other solution—no other way to protect Evelyn and Aimee. If he fed LeClerc such misinformation now, LeClerc would have to die.

Lucas started, his eyes wide. Then they narrowed—and now Jack knew he was entirely suspicious of him. “LeClerc hardly operates alone.”

“He is a great conduit to the French Republicans for us,” Warlock said, hard. “Killing him is a last resort, Jack, and you cannot do so before we triumph in Brittany.”

Jack quickly smiled but all he could think of was that by midnight of June 25, he would be uncovered, and Evelyn would be in danger. “Fine. It is a last resort.” He realized he was sweating now. “I will tell him the invasion is set for St Malo, on July 15.”

“And LeClerc will know before midnight on the twenty-fifth that he has been betrayed,” Lucas said.

Jack kept smiling. “Probably…unless I have played a very good game.”

Lucas’s gaze was narrow and hard with continued suspicion.

“I will find a tidbit for you to toss to LeClerc soon, to convince him of your loyalty now.” Warlock stood, clearly about to leave. “By the way, why did Captain Barrow think to find you at Roselynd—the home of the deceased Comte D’Orsay?”

Jack froze inwardly; outwardly, he reached for his glass of wine. “I don’t know. But as you know, I am a good friend of Robert Faraday. His widow is Robert’s niece.”

Warlock smiled congenially. “I have heard she is a stunner.” He nodded and left.

Jack began to sip his wine but Lucas seized his wrist, causing the glass to tilt and the wine to spill all over the table. “I would like a dose of the truth,” Lucas snapped.

Jack shook the wine from his hand and faced his brother grimly. “Evelyn is in danger.”

Lucas’s eyes widened. “Evelyn? Are you speaking of the widow D’Orsay?”

He trusted his brother completely—with his life, with her life. “I have sent her to Julianne’s. And I have a letter for Dom, if you do not mind.” He reached into his interior pocket and handed the folded parchment to Lucas. It was sealed with wax.

Lucas moved his chair closer. “What the hell is going on?”

Jack did not hesitate. “I did not take a Frenchwoman to France. I took Evelyn. Unfortunately, I was foolish enough—and selfish enough—to bring her to Looe Island. She stumbled across a meeting I had with LeClerc and he happens to know her well, from when she lived in Paris. She is the reason LeClerc suspects me now, and he has threatened her and her daughter. If he is betrayed, he will seek vengeance upon them, and he made himself very clear.” He clenched his fists. “That is why I am going to have to kill him, sooner, not later.”