A Code of the Heart (The Code Breakers Series Book 3) (17 page)

In the last ten hours, her entire life had been altered. She was now Derrick’s fiancée. Her stomach quivered at Derrick’s passionate promises during this afternoon’s sensual interlude. Derrick vowed to dance with her at the Foster’s ball. He wanted to erase all memories of any other man’s dance. He wanted her to remember only him and the way he held and looked at her. Her heart fluttered at his possessiveness.

She bent to douse the candles on her desk. She reverently touched the statue of the Etruscan muse, Minerva. Her father had given it to her on her eighteenth birthday. Minerva was the muse of wisdom and art. Her father had always supported her interests, unlike her brothers.

It was time to get ready for the evening. She and Gwyneth, all part of Derrick and Ash’s planning to keep them out of harm’s way, were to have dinner tonight at Lord Foster’s estate before the ball. Lord Foster was an old family friend. After the day’s harrowing events, she would’ve preferred to have the escort of her father and her brothers tonight. But her father had returned to the country for estate business, and Jack and Parker were dining at their clubs.

She heard someone approaching in the hall. Probably Betsy to harangue her to get ready, but it seemed too early for Betsy to return.

“Betsy?” Amelia turned toward the door when it creaked open.

“Elodie?” Amelia stood shocked to see the young girl. Had the plan to follow the seamstress failed?

The young girl bobbed a quick curtsy. “Miss, I’m sorry to bother you, but your butler said I could come back. He recognized me from my other deliveries.”

The young girl’s hand shook holding the wrapped package.

“Did you bring me fabric?” Amelia’s mind spun with the possibilities of what Elodie’s appearance could mean.

“No, Miss. I pretended to have fabric. I needed to talk with you. Something terrible…” Elodie’s voice broke into a sob. “Some men are following me and I didn’t know where to go.”

Amelia rushed over to the young girl who remained at the door. Amelia took her arm. “Come and sit down. You’re shaking.”

“I’m sorry to be a bother, but I don’t know what to do.”

Amelia guided her to the settee. “You can tell me.”

“You’ve always been so kind.” The girl hugged the package to her chest. Tears flowed down her cheeks.

“It’s going to be all right.” Amelia tried to sound comforting, knowing what awaited Elodie.

Elodie shook her head. “Nothing can be right again.”

Amelia sat next to the girl. “I know about your father.”

The girl’s tear-streaked eyes widened. “You know?”

“That your father makes you take the fashion dolls for him to remove the diamonds.”

“I didn’t want to do it. Madame has been so good to me. But my father…with his drinking.” Her voice trembled. “He wasn’t like this when mama was alive. But ever since she died.”

“Did you bring the doll I sent to the shop today?” Amelia pointed to the bundle Elodie still held tight against her chest.

Elodie shook her head. “The doll is still at the shop. My father took the diamonds and left.”

Amelia squeezed her hand. “What has happened?”

“My father has disappeared. And there are men following me.”

“How do you know your father disappeared? He might have stopped off at a tavern.”

“He always comes home for luncheon to see to my sisters while I’m at work in the shop. He never forgets the little ones.”

This was good news. It must mean that Derrick and Ash had captured him.

Amelia didn’t have any reassurances for the girl about her father’s future. “Did the men follow you here?”

“No, I’d never lead them to your house, Miss.”

“Do you know who these men are?”

“I’ve never seen them before, but there were two of them. I slipped through into the baker’s shop and then went out the back door. I know the back alleys better than anyone.”

Amelia didn’t know which of Derrick and Ash’s subordinates were in charge of watching Elodie, but there would be hell to pay for their blunder.

Amelia patted the girl’s hand. “Elodie, you’re safe now.”

Their strategy appeared to be successful—Derrick had captured Elodie’s father and, hopefully, the English traitor selling the Navy’s secrets. And Elodie was safe.

Amelia took a deep breath. She didn’t realized how tense she had been. Amelia was about to tell the girl that she would help her when the outside French door opened.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Helene in a dark riding dress with a hood, with her hand on her hip, walked into the studio.

Elodie jumped up. “Madame. Men were following me.”

Helene swept her hand in a vicious gesture. “Silence.”

“Helene?” Amelia stood. A terrible realization spread through her with revolting speed.

Helene gave a wicked laugh. The harsh hate-thickened sound pierced the silence. “I’m sure you’re more than surprised.”

The stylish woman flicked her hand and then turned to lock the French doors.

“Elodie, lock the outer door.” Helene’s voice was awful and ugly.

Elodie stared at her superior, not comprehending her intent, but with a wave of the pistol and a glare, the girl did as she was bid.

“You’re the French spy?” Amelia remained incredulous. Her mind was assimilating the obvious facts, but she couldn’t grasp them.

Helene lowered her hood. Her dark hair was stylishly wound in coronet braids. She looked the part of any fashionable lady making her afternoon visits, not the mastermind of the French spies, or even the modiste she’d known for years.

“Poor Amelia. You never suspected.”

“You’re going to laugh, but I was trying to protect you.”

“You
are
going to protect me.” Helene swept her maroon skirt to the side, as she strode closer.

“You were my friend.” Amelia stared at the woman she thought she had known. The betrayal was bitter and bewildering.

For a second the look in Helene’s eyes could’ve been hatred or pity. “Unfortunately, I’ve no sentiment for friendship. As I’ve told you, my life is about survival.”

“I don’t understand,” Amelia said.

“You’ll be my bargaining chip. I’m sure your good friend Lord Rathbourne will not let his wife’s best friend be killed.”

Amelia’s heart punched against her chest in loud thuds. “You would kill me?”

“Unfortunately, there are always sacrifices when you’re fighting a war.”

“But why now?”

“Maurice has been captured.”

Elodie gasped. “Papa? No.” her last word trailed into whimpering sobs.

“And it won’t be long before he’ll confess. They will tell him they’ll imprison his daughters and he’ll give me up.”

Fear lodged into her throat. Amelia tried to back away, but her legs were against the settee. “If you leave now, you can escape. No one knows you’re involved.”

“And how long before they’ll be searching for me at every port. Your life for my safe passage to France.” Helene gave another bitter laugh.

Elodie’s sobbing made the tension in the room unbearable. Amelia needed to keep Helene’s focus on herself. She didn’t trust Helene not to retaliate against Elodie.

“But your work, your shop. Won’t you miss it?”

“Miss bowing and groveling to the English? Do you know how tired I am of pretending those British bitches have beauty and taste?”

“You’ll return to France after all you suffered there? Or were those stories more of your lies?”

“Napoleon’s France has been transformed with the end of the aristocrats. Before Napoleon, we were nothing better than slaves, barely able to eke out a living.”

“I realize I never knew you. I thought we shared a love of fashion and art.”

“I did like you. You were different. You never treated me as less, but survival gets down to you or me, and I’m not ready to die.”

Amelia had never misjudged anyone this badly. Helene was acting as if abducting and killing her friend was normal behavior.

“Time to move. Need to move forward.” Helene pulled out a small pistol from beneath her pelisse.

Suddenly Amelia could barely hear above the roaring pulse pounding in her ears. She would die without ever loving Derrick, without bearing his children. She refused to be intimidated by a madwoman.

“They’ll never allow you to escape.”

“My dear, you underestimate your influence. Now get over here and start writing a note to Lord Rathbourne.”

Terror hit Amelia square in the back of her neck and down her spine. She stood paralyzed.

“Elodie, stop that wailing!” Helene pointed the gun at the young girl. “Sit down and shut up.”

Terror-stricken, Elodie sat on the settee. The sound of her gulping, attempting to stifle any sounds, was pitiful.

Amelia walked to her desk. Helene followed her. “You’ll direct them that once I’m safely aboard the
Faucon,
they’ll find a note at the
Ship’s Aground
, instructing them of your whereabouts. Warn them that if they interfere with my passage, they’ll never find you alive.”

Gross and ugly rage stormed through Amelia. She searched her desk for something to use as a weapon. If she could surprise Helene, she might be able to knock the pistol out of her hand. Surprise was Amelia’s only advantage.

Someone pounded on the door. A man’s voice—Derrick—shouted, “Amelia!”

Helene turned toward the interruption, giving Amelia the chance to act. She lifted the statue of Minerva and with skills honed on the cricket field, she swung the statue like a bat and hit Helene on the arm, knocking the gun out of her hand as it discharged into the wall. Helene turned on Amelia; rage mottled her face as she grabbed Amelia by the neck.

Amelia, instinctively, brought up her knee for a direct kick to the woman’s stomach as she wrestled the woman’s hands away from her throat.

Helene gasped in pain and grabbed her abdomen in agony.

Elodie rushed to unlock the door while Amelia fought with Helene. Derrick and Talley, both with pistols drawn, came rushing in.

“Amelia!” Derrick shouted.

Talley grabbed Helene by the arms pulling her away from Amelia, then he leveled his pistol at her.

Stunned by the sudden release, Amelia stared at Derrick, unable to grasp that the crisis was over. He pulled her into his arms. “My God, she had you.”

She could feel the terror in his taut body in the way he held her too tight. Amelia’s pounding heart matched Derrick’s in the same rapid, breathless way. Her knees were still shaky; she was so glad for Derrick’s arms.

Derrick didn’t let go of Amelia. With open disgust, he spoke to Talley, “Get that vermin out of here. Take her to the Abchurch.”

At that moment, two more armed men burst into the room. Talley handed Helene over to one of the muscular men. As they left, Helene kept her back straight and her neck regal as if she were being escorted to the opera or a soirée.

“Keep your gun on her,” Talley said to the young man.

Talley pointed with his head toward Elodie. “What about her?”

“You’re Elodie Bargeron?” Derrick asked.

Elodie stood, terrified. Her face was grey, her dark eyes wide with terror. She feebly nodded her head.

Turning to Talley, Derrick said, “Take her to Abchurch for questioning.”

Amelia tried to pull out of Derrick’s arms to reassure Elodie. He resisted and squeezed tighter. “I’m not letting you go.”

Amelia looked into his wildly dilated eyes. She realized he needed to hold her as badly as she needed to be surrounded by his strength.

“Elodie, these men will not hurt you. They need to ask you questions about your father.”

Tears trickled down the young girl’s face. Amelia wanted to comfort her, but Derrick was not about to comply.

“But my sisters, Miss. Who will take care of them?”

“I will have your sisters brought here to my house. And when you’re done answering the questions, the men will bring you here to reunite with them. You and your sisters will be safe.”

Elodie nodded her head. “Thank you, Miss.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Brinsley wrapped Amelia in his arms and held her hard against him. He couldn’t tell who was shaking more. Her slight body was trembling and cold against him. His heart punched against his chest as if in danger of breaking through.

Despite many treacherous missions, he had never endured danger with a precious loved one. He struggled to gain control of his quaking body and raw feelings.

“I’m glad you arrived when you did,” she said against his chest. She tried for a flippant tone, but he could hear the quiver in her voice.

Brinsley shuddered in helpless rage. He tightened his hold, shielding her with his body. He was never going to let her go. The sound of the gunshot echoing behind a locked door before he could break it down would always be seared into his brain. He’d never forget the overpowering helplessness and the accompanying terror. “I was almost too late.”

“Your entrance was the perfect distraction I needed to hit the gun out of her hand.”

All the muscles in his body bunched rigid and he tried to suck air into his lungs. He couldn’t allow himself to think of how close he’d come to losing her. She was inexperienced and had no idea how violently a desperate person might act. He didn’t want her ever to experience the evil he had seen. And he didn’t want to destroy her confidence that she could have defended herself against a gun-wielding spy. It was his fault that she had been forced into this lethal situation.

His thoughts were getting darker and gloomier with all the possible ways today could’ve become a deadly disaster.

She snuggled closer to him as if she could read his morbid thoughts. “You’re so warm, and I’m so cold.”

“You’re in shock.” He kept her locked to his body, trying to absorb her distress.

“Yes, I do feel a bit wobbly.” Her voice and smile were shaky.

He kissed her temple, then her cheek. “Come and sit down.”

Holding her close, he led her to the settee. Once there, he carefully set her down, his hands smoothing, touching everywhere. His fingers lightly brushed her neck. “Did she hurt you?”

“No, she didn’t want to hurt me. She wanted to use me as a bargaining chip to escape England.”

He cursed under his breath. How did he allow himself to be blinded by Amelia’s faith in her friend? How had he become so complacent as to accept the information that the French spy was a man? He should’ve been more diligent.