Deception in Emeralds (Ransomed Jewels Book 4) Page 3

  Barnaby said nothing, though he continued to wonder at the secrecy. This was Will’s home—a well-appointed country cottage suited to a well-looked-after tenant farmer. One cook’s helper and one stable hand were the only apparent staff. Hardly a place to fear clandestine conversations being overheard.

  “Are you sure this is the best way to handle this?” Barnaby asked when he reached the carriage.

  “Yes, Linscott. It’s the best—and only—way.” Will was waiting beside the carriage and opened the door for Barnaby to step up. He took the first step, looked inside, then stopped.

  “Come in, Barnaby,” Millicent invited.

  He entered the carriage and sat down opposite her. The change in her appearance was remarkable. He shook his head as he took in everything about her.

  She was dressed as regally as if she were visiting the Queen—not traveling a few miles to call on a neighboring estate. Her light-blue-and-white brocade gown was of the latest fashion and accented her hourglass figure to perfection—although the bodice was cut far lower than Barnaby considered appropriate. Low enough to more than hint at the hidden treasures nestled beneath the sheer lace bertha that lay across her breast.

  Now he understood the clothes they’d laid out for him this morning. He’d asked for something dark, rough. Perhaps a stable hand’s clothing. Instead, he was outfitted like a country squire.

  The morning sun drew out the red in her wheat-colored hair, which was done up in a most flattering style, with tiny blue wildflowers woven between the riot of curls that hung down her back.

  Her jewelry was simple, yet elegant—a string of glimmering pearls around her neck and matching earbobs that hung from her delicate lobes. She was a vision. So beautiful that the sight of her stole his breath.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked as the carriage door closed. The carriage shifted as two people—presumably Will and Sophie—climbed atop.

  “I’m accompanying you on your mission.”

  “No,” he answered as he reached to knock on the roof of the carriage. He wanted Will to stop. He wanted her to get out. He didn’t want Millicent anyplace near Radburn or this mission. They were both too dangerous.

  “Save your efforts,” she said when he pounded on the frame above him. “Will won’t stop. Lord Radburn is expecting me. I am an integral part of the plan.”

  “No. This is too dangerous. I can handle this alone. I won’t require your help.”

  “Those are the same arguments I used with McCormick. He didn’t listen to me any more than I will listen to you.”

  He paused, and a questioning frown creased his forehead. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you think I wanted another person’s help? I told McCormick I could handle this alone, but he wouldn’t allow it. He said this mission was too important to risk failure. He said I either allowed you to accompany me, or he’d pull me from the mission.”

  “And destroying Radburn is that important to you?”

  She smiled, but her smile didn’t radiate happiness. Far from it.

  “Yes. It’s that important,” she answered.

  “And you know that you might die?”

  A bitter laugh escaped her. “I am already dead, Mr. Linscott. Radburn saw to that long ago.”

  A dozen questions invaded his mind. As if she’d read them on his face, she spoke.

  “We don’t have all that much time before we arrive. Perhaps we’d best use that time to discuss our plan.”

  Barnaby was angry. “You’re bloody right it’s time. If I hadn’t been so . . . so out of sorts from the laudanum, I would have seen . . . would have seen your prevarication—your clever evasion every time I asked a probing question. I would have had my own plan honed and in place. I—You kept me in the dark on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “Of course I did. Do you think I didn’t know that once you discovered I was a part of the plan, you would have wasted valuable time arguing that I shouldn’t come?”

  “You’re damn right I would have.”

  Didn’t she know that he might not succeed if her presence compromised his ability to take the necessary risks? And if he didn’t succeed, would either of them get out alive?

  “Who are you, really? Why is Radburn’s death so important to you?”

  “Very well,” she said, settling back into the seat. “It’s best you know my story. I truly am Lady Millicent Chandler. I’m the eldest daughter of the late Earl of Renfrew. I first met the Earl of Radburn when I was but fourteen years old. He was barely twenty years old and had just inherited the title, along with Westview Park. As you’ll recall from the map Will gave you, Radburn also possesses the estates on the north and the east. The only land he doesn’t own is to the south of Westview Park. That is owned—”

  “By you,” he finished for her.

  She sighed. “Yes, by me. My father left Cliffside to me when he died.”

  “And Radburn wants it.”

  “Yes, he wants it. Enough to marry me to get it.”

  “And you’re willing to pretend you might marry him?”

  She turned her head to look out the window. “I am marrying him.” Her voice turned hard. “At the end of the month.”

  Barnaby fumed. A fête, Will had told him. It was a fête they were supposed to be attending. Not a wedding. It was just supposed to be a party. “Bloody hell! Bloody blasted hell!”

  He raked a hand through his hair and fought for something to say that would force her to change her mind.

  “Do you love him?”

  Her gaze returned to focus on him. The expression in her eyes was cold. Bitter.

  “I could never love him.”

  “Does he love you?”

  Surprise showed on her face. “Radburn is incapable of love. He wants to possess me. He wants me because until now I have refused every offer he’s made.”

  “But now—?”

  It only took a moment for Barnaby to answer his own question. “You can’t be serious. Surely you know you can’t go through with—”

  “I intend to do whatever it takes to destroy Radburn.”

  She turned her head again to watch the passing countryside beyond the window. She didn’t speak again for several moments, then turned to face Barnaby.

  “The wedding will take place at the end of the month. If everything goes as planned, you will have discovered where the explosives are located and destroyed his stockpile of ammunition by then.”

  “What about you?”

  “My role will be to make sure that when the explosives are detonated, Radburn is a fatality of the explosion.”

  “Are you willing to be a casualty of the explosion?”

  “If I cannot find a way to escape, yes.”

  There was a lethal calmness in her expression. “Barnaby, you must know that the Crown cannot be implicated in any way. It must appear to be a falling out among thieves. Nothing more.”

  “With you as their innocent victim, no doubt.”

  Millicent paled.

  “What did Radburn do to make you hate him so?”

  She slowly turned to face him. Her eyes narrowed, widened, then locked on to his. “He killed everyone I loved. My father, mother, brother, and young sister. He took away everything that was important to me. Everything!” Her eyes flashed, her teeth clenched, and her chin tilted to a flirtatious angle that gave a staggering contrast to her icy words.

  “And he will die.”

  Chapter 4

  Millicent is the Earl of Radburn’s fiancée.

  The plan was rather brilliant. Even Barnaby had to admit that it was. They would enter Radburn’s manor house as invited guests. That would provide them access to Radburn’s home and his grounds without drawing undue attention to their coming and going.

  Barnaby was to play the role of Millicent’s cousin. As her only living relative, he was to walk her down the aisle at her wedding. He was to give her away to a man who was an enemy to Britain, and who was responsible for her family’s
deaths.

  She’d have to have ice in her veins to pull it off.

  The idea of Millicent being Radburn’s fiancée gnawed in the pit of Barnaby’s stomach with unmerciful intensity. He wasn’t sure if Millicent would actually go through with her marriage to Radburn if Barnaby required more time to find the explosives. The determined glare in her eyes when she spoke of Radburn told him that she would, but he didn’t want to find out.

  He clenched his hands and vowed that he would find the ammunition stronghold and destroy it before Millicent said “I do.” He couldn’t bear the thought of a man like Radburn making Millicent his wife.

  “Remember,” she said as they pulled closer to Westview Park. “You were injured in the war. Your injuries have affected your nerves. You sometimes suffer from sleeplessness and are known to walk in your sleep. Those maladies might become a convenient excuse if ever we need one.”

  Barnaby nodded.

  “Your name is Reginald Compton, although I call you Reggie. Our mothers were sisters, both daughters of Baron Listnet from East Sussex.”

  “Is that much true of your mother?”

  “Yes. The closer we stay to the truth, the less chance there will be of making errors that will alert Radburn.”

  Barnaby listened while Millicent related several other details that might come up during their stay. When she finished, he reached over and clutched her hand. “It’s not too late to change your mind, Millicent. We can turn around. I can accomplish this mission on my own. I’ll destroy the explosives and handle Radburn.”

  A sad smile lifted the corners of her lips as she placed her free hand atop his and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “I know you think to protect me, and I’m touched by that. Truly I am. But we have a greater chance of accomplishing our goal if we work together. You know that we do.”

  Barnaby didn’t like it, but she was right. They had a much better chance of success together. Except he wasn’t sure he could stand to watch the Earl of Radburn touch her as though he owned her. Or look at her in anticipation of the day her body would be his to do with as he pleased.

  The carriage stopped, and an army of footmen came to help them alight. Barnaby tried to imagine what his first impression of Radburn would be. He prepared to hide whatever negative emotions he felt—especially his dislike. He couldn’t afford to begin this mission with an underlying hostility between them.

  Barnaby stepped to the ground, then turned to assist Millicent. There was a smile on her face that was contrasted by the guarded look in her eyes. She clasped her fingers around his and descended. If one didn’t know, one would believe that she was eager to be there. That she looked forward to her marriage at the end of the month. The smile on her face made her act believable, and if not for the viselike grip of her fingers around his, Barnaby wouldn’t have known any different.

  He patted her hand, then looped her arm through the bend of his elbow and turned to take in the mansion before them.

  The stone structure was magnificent. It was as massive as any grand country home Barnaby had visited. It stood stately and proud amid the rolling hills and lush valleys of the English countryside. The perfect setting of peace and tranquility.

  With a shared nod, they began their mission.

  They’d only taken one step toward the entrance when a man exited the house to greet them. He was large in stature and wore finely tailored clothes that fit him to perfection. He was an admirable figure of a man, and as handsome as Millicent had described him. Barnaby knew at first glance that this was the infamous Earl of Radburn.

  “My darling,” he said, descending the four curving steps that led from the portico to the cobblestone ground.

  Millicent dropped her arm from Barnaby’s and rushed forward. “My lord.”

  Radburn reached for her hands and held them, then brought them to his lips. “How was your journey?”

  “Brief,” she said. “And uneventful.”

  “I’m glad you have arrived.” He placed his arm around her waist and brought her close to him.

  “Here,” Millicent said, turning to include Barnaby. “Allow me to introduce my cousin, Reginald Compton. Reggie, Marcus Sharpe, Earl of Radburn.”

  “My lord,” Barnaby greeted.

  “Mr. Compton.”

  The greeting was cordial enough, but Barnaby noticed a dark discernment in his eyes, and sensed displeasure. As if Radburn had expected to have Millicent all to himself and objected to the prospect of competition for her attention.

  Millicent either didn’t notice or chose to ignore the jealous overtone. She smiled at Barnaby and held out her hand to reach for his. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to convince Reggie to come so early. Since the war, he doesn’t leave his home often. But when I told him how important it was to me that the two of you become friends, he finally agreed.”

  “Then I am indebted to you, Mr. Compton. I’m afraid I would have had to come after you myself had I known Millicent so desperately wanted you here. As you will soon realize, I find it impossible to deny Millicent anything.”

  Millicent lowered her gaze in false modesty. But there was still no joy in her eyes.

  “Come,” Radburn said, leading the way into the house. “I know you are anxious to get settled, but I called for tea and sandwiches when I saw you arrive. You may enjoy refreshments while the staff unpack your trunks.”

  Barnaby followed as Radburn escorted Millicent to a beautiful drawing room. The salon was spacious and magnificently decorated.

  The butler and several maids stood ready to pour tea and serve plates with small sandwiches. After the three of them were seated and the servants had been dismissed, Radburn sat back in his chair and shifted his gaze to Millicent.

  Barnaby had struggled to label the look on Radburn’s face when he first saw Millicent. Now it struck him that it was the same expression he saw on the faces of museum-goers when they looked upon a collection of priceless treasures—a mix of awe and admiration.

  That is how Radburn looked at Millicent. As if she were a most priceless treasure. And he owned her.

  “I have to admit to being selfish,” Radburn said, after taking a sip of tea. He shifted his possessive gaze to Millicent. “I wanted to spend a few moments alone with you now that you’ve finally arrived, which is why I asked for tea to be served.” He gave an inclusive nod in Barnaby’s direction. “And this affords me the opportunity to get to know your cousin.”

  “I’m afraid there’s not much to get to know,” Barnaby said, intending to steer the conversation away from himself. Millicent, however, had other plans.

  “That’s not true, Reggie. There’s much that’s interesting about you.”

  “Really?” Radburn questioned.

  Millicent gave Barnaby a look that said, trust me. But he wasn’t sure. He didn’t like to step into the unknown. He’d learned from experience that doing so could be disastrous.

  “Yes,” she continued. “Reggie has taken over one of his father’s estates and made it quite successful.”

  Barnaby shot Millicent a look he hoped indicated the full extent of his panic. He was competent in several areas, such as how to follow a trail that had long since gone cold. Or how to decipher many foreign military codes. Or how to hit a target from fifty paces. But he knew absolutely nothing about farming.

  “I’m afraid you have me at a definite disadvantage, Mr. Compton. I have never taken an interest in farming. Thankfully, I have excellent stewards who take care of my various estates.”

  “But you wouldn’t mind if Reggie toured your land while he’s here, would you, my lord? Since the war, he prefers to be out of doors rather than confined inside.”

  “Of course not,” Radburn answered, although the narrowing of his eyes told Barnaby that he’d rather Barnaby stayed indoors where someone could keep an eye on him. “My stables are available to you whenever you wish, as well as any of the horses. If you need someone to go with you, you have only to ask.” He played the gracious host well, but
the way he gripped and regripped the arms of his chair spoke a world of contradiction.

  “Thank you, Lord Radburn,” Barnaby answered. “I appreciate your hospitality.”

  “Not at all.” He turned to Millicent. “Now, my love. Have you decided what you’d like Cook to serve for our wedding breakfast? You said you’d have the menu made out when you arrived. Cook is . . .”

  Barnaby pretended interest in their conversation, but his mind was traveling in a dozen different directions. Millicent had afforded him the perfect opportunity and excuse to travel over Radburn’s estate and perhaps discover where Radburn kept the stash of ammunition.

  He didn’t want to admit it, but so far Millicent made one hell of a spy. She worked things to their advantage. She appeared calm and collected, apparently unfazed by the idea that if Radburn discovered their true motives, they would both be dead.

  Barnaby’s thoughts came to a sudden halt. At least, he would be dead. But Millicent could pay a much higher price. Radburn may not kill her, but he could certainly make her pay for her deception. Her life would be a living hell. That thought turned his blood to ice.

  “Aren’t you, Reggie?” he heard her ask.

  Barnaby turned his attention back to the conversation. “Forgive me, Millie. I got lost somewhere between the glazed ham and roasted duck for your wedding breakfast. What were you asking?”

  Millicent gave him an endearing smile. “I asked if you were ready to go to your room. I, at least, would like to rest a bit before dinner.”

  Barnaby rose to his feet. “Yes, I would like that, too.”

  Barnaby held out his hand to help Millicent to her feet, but Radburn stepped forward and placed his hand in front of Millicent. The intent was obvious and the effect immediate. He wanted Barnaby to know his place. Even a close relative didn’t take precedence over his lordship—particularly when it came to someone to whom he had clearly laid claim.