The Beloved Scoundrel

Chapter 11

C HAPTER 11

Y ou could go without me,” Gregor said. He shifted restlessly in the back of the wagon. “I am delaying you. I can follow tomorrow when I have more strength.”

“You go with us,” Jordan told him. “It will take only an hour or so more to reach Cambaron.”

Gregor looked at Marianna, who was waiting on the seat of the wagon. “I think an hour means a great deal to her at this time. Though she is taking this better than I thought she would.”

“Because she hasn’t exploded and torn us to pieces? I wish she would. She’s wound too taut. She may break.” His gaze went to Marianna’s pale, strained face and then quickly shifted back to Gregor. He smiled mirthlessly. “At least you’re safe from her wrath. You’ve already been punished for your sins.”

“Not enough. It was a very great sin.”

“My sin. My responsibility. If he dies, it will be—” He broke off and then said, “But he’s not going to die.” He drew the blanket higher around Gregor. “Try not to move or you’ll start the bleeding again. Besides the inconvenience of having to take your corpse back to Kazan, I’m going to need you.”

He went around to the front of the wagon and climbed onto the seat beside Marianna.

D orothy was waiting in the courtyard as the wagon rolled through the gates.

She stepped forward. “I’m sorry about the lad,” she said to Marianna. “I’m sure Jordan will get him back.”

“You know?”

“I sent a rider with a message before we left Dalwynd to tell Dorothy the boy had been taken.” Jordan jumped down from the wagon. “I thought it would save you distress.” He lifted her down from the wagon. “God knows, there isn’t much else I can do right now.”

“You’ve probably already done quite enough,” Dorothy said grimly. “I don’t understand any of this. But if it has anything to do with that Corsican, you had no right to involve the child.”

“Do you suppose you could refrain from heaping guilt on my head and see to Gregor? The trip wasn’t easy for him.” He smiled bitterly. “And, yes, I know, that’s my fault too.”

“I’m glad you admit it.” She immediately took charge, directing servants, sending for the physician in the village. Then, taking Marianna’s arm, she whisked her toward the front door.

“I’ll be waiting in the study, Marianna,” Jordan said quietly.

She nodded but didn’t look at him as she let Dorothy lead her into the castle and up the stairs to her chamber.

“You’re as cold as a block of ice,” Dorothy said as she knelt at the hearth and stoked the flames. “Come and get warm.”

Marianna wanted to tell her that no fire could rid her of this chill, but Dorothy was being kind. She crossed the room and held her hands out to the fire.

“Why would they take the boy? Do they think Jordan will ransom him?” Dorothy asked.

“Perhaps.” She had never told Dorothy the details of her life before she came to Cambaron, and there was no use confiding in her now. She would not have understood a world so violent and alien to her own. “If you please, I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“Of course.” Dorothy moved brusquely toward the door. “Will you come down to supper?”

“No.” Jordan had said she must stay in her room in order that Nebrov’s messenger would have to come to her. He had set a watch in a room down the hall and would know who came and went.

“Then I’ll see that something’s brought up to you.” Dorothy paused at the door, hesitating. “And I wish you to know that I do not condemn you for going with Jordan to Dalwynd. Your loss of virtue was not your fault, and I shall still look on you exactly as I did before.”

“What?” Marianna raised her head and stared at her in bewilderment. Virtue? What difference did a loss of virtue make when Alex was gone? Mother of God, what did it signify if she became the whore of Babylon? All that mattered was making sure Alex was saved. Then, as she stared at Dorothy, she realized it did matter to her. She evidently considered it of great importance, or she would never have mentioned it at this time. She might loudly embrace the rights of women, but the strictures of the ton had been more deeply ingrained in her than she knew. Even though she protested and denied it, Marianna was less in her eyes than she had been before.

She had broken the rules.

“That’s all I wished to say. Now we’ll forget this unfortunate incident and go on as before.”

As the door closed behind her, Marianna stared into the flames. Dorothy was wrong; they could not go on as before. She would continue to love Dorothy for her kindness, but there would always be a barrier between them from now on.

Dorothy is bound by the very rules she thinks she flouts.

Jordan had said those words. Jordan had known what she had never guessed. Clever Jordan.

But not clever enough to keep Nebrov from taking Alex.

She sat down in the wing chair before the fire and closed her eyes.

Let the messenger come soon, she prayed. She could not bear this waiting much longer.

A n envelope was slipped under her door a few hours later.

She heard a faint rustle and turned her head to see a white envelope cross over the threshold like a poisonous snake.

She leaped from her chair and was at the door in seconds but made no attempt to throw it open and look for the messenger. Jordan had promised he would be intercepted. Instead, Marianna ripped open the envelope and scanned the note inside before running down the stairs and into the study.

She threw the note on the desk in front of Jordan. “Here it is. It was slipped under my door. Now, let’s do something about it.”

He picked up the missive and read it. “It’s what we expected.”

Exactly what they expected, Marianna thought sickly. A death threat to Alex unless she surrendered herself to Nebrov at his estate at Pekbar before the month’s end. “We have to leave at once.”

“I’ve already sent word to ready the Seastorm, ” Jordan said. “We’ll set out in the morning for Southwick.” He rose to his feet. “Wait in your room. I’ll need to talk to you as soon as I’m done.”

“Where are you going?”

He glanced over his shoulder, and she inhaled sharply as she saw his expression. “The messenger.”

I t was after midnight when Jordan came to her room. He glanced at the cases beside the bed and said, “I see you’re ready to depart.”

She had paid little attention to gathering belongings, concentrating only on keeping herself from going mad while she waited for him. “I packed for Alex as well. He’ll need something to wear when Nebrov releases him.” When he releases him, not if. She had to keep believing they would save him. She asked, “Who was the messenger?”

“William Stoneham.”

At first she did not recognize the name. He had always been just William, the name on Alex’s lips a dozen times a day. When realization dawned, shock rippled through her. Cheerful, dapper William who had taught Alex to ride. William, whom Alex trusted only a little less than Gregor. “It couldn’t be him. He loved Alex.”

“Not as much as he loved the pounds Costain paid him to betray your brother. He told Costain where Gregor and Alex were going yesterday and that they would be unescorted.”

She shook her head to clear it. These people she had thought she knew so well, she had not really known at all. The safe cocoon of Cambaron was unraveling, leaving her feeling dazed and naked.

“He was to notify Costain’s man in Southwick when he delivered the message.” He smiled grimly. “Unfortunately, he won’t deliver the news in person. I left William’s hand intact so that he could write the note we’ll dictate, but his other extremities are sadly damaged.”

“Dictate? What do you want him to say?”

“We may have need of dividing our forces. He’ll send word that I was summoned to London and plan to come to Montavia at a later date and that only Gregor will be escorting you to Montavia.”

“Did William know anything else?”

“No.” He paused. “Marianna, we can’t let Nebrov control the terms.”

She stiffened. “What are you saying? I won’t have Nebrov angered and chance having him hurt Alex.”

“Sit down, Marianna.”

“I don’t care what games you’re playing with Napoleon. Alex is not going to be part of them.”

“I said, sit down.” He gently pushed her down onto the chair. “And listen to me. Do you think Nebrov is going to release Alex even if you give yourself in exchange?”

She had to believe it, she thought desperately.

“Shall I tell you what’s going to happen? He’ll capture you, renege on his promise to release Alex, and use him to make you give him the Jedalar. Do you want to see Alex tortured before your eyes?”

“No!” Her hands clenched the arms of the chair. “It won’t happen. I’ll give him the Jedalar.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“You can’t let—” She stared at him in horror. “You’d let him die?”

“He won’t die,” he said harshly. “Do you think I’d allow Alex to be sacrificed? I’d let you give Nebrov the Jedalar and then find a way to take it from him later, if I thought that would save Alex.” He knelt before her chair. “It wouldn’t. After Nebrov has the Jedalar, the first thing he’d do would be to destroy anyone else who has knowledge of it. He’d kill both you and Alex. Think, Marianna, you know what he is.”

She did know and had a terrible fear that Jordan was speaking the truth. Mama had told her often enough that power usually bred dishonor. It was only desperation that had led her to ignore that knowledge.

He didn’t speak for a moment, letting his words sink in. “Our only chance is to find a way to catch him off guard and take Alex away from him. To do that, I’m going to need your help.” He paused. “You’re going to have to give me the Jedalar.”

“I knew it would come to that,” she said bitterly. “It’s what you always wanted, wasn’t it? What a wonderful opportunity.”

He flinched. “Yes, it’s what I wanted, what I have to have. But I won’t let you be hurt by it. Trust me, Marianna.”

“I don’t trust you. Why should I?” She met his gaze. “You would have kept me in a cage. You let that monster take Alex.”

“Then don’t trust me. Just do what’s best for Alex.”

“That’s my intention.” She wearily leaned back in the chair. She had no choice. He was right, the Jedalar could be the key to freeing Alex. She had to run the risk.

Forgive me, Mama.

But her mother would never have wanted her to endanger Alex. She would have done what she had to do to save her family and tried to salvage what she could later.

“Very well.” She sat upright in the chair. “We’ll find a way to trick Nebrov by offering him what he wants. But it may not be as simple as you imagine. What do you know of the Jedalar?”

A little of the tension left him. “I know that a good many years ago Czar Paul of Russia decided that Moscow should have a means to repel invaders who laid siege to the city. He was rumored to be none too sane and loved to dress up in military uniforms and play soldier, and this was to be his finest act of military genius. He ordered a tunnel built from some point in the heart of Moscow to a point several miles beyond the perimeter so that his forces could circle around behind any besieging enemy and surprise them. The tunnel was built in great secrecy; the workers were blindfolded when they entered and left the tunnel. After the tunnel was finished, the czar became obsessed with keeping his secret safe. He realized that not only could his army attack a besieging force, but an invading army could enter Moscow and take it without a battle. He was terrified someone would discover the plans that showed the location and map of the tunnel, so he devised a means to disguise the map in a place no one would think to look. He commissioned the fashioning of a magnificent stained-glass window for one of his palaces. He had heard of a great craftsman Anton Pogani who was working on a church in Montavia and sent for him to do the work.”

“The Window to Heaven,” Marianna said.

Jordan nodded. “Pogani and his wife agreed to come to Moscow to do the czar’s bidding. When they arrived, they found that not only was the window to be a work of art, but the glass was to be laid in such a way that it would furnish a secret map of the tunnel. An intricate task, but Pogani accomplished it.”

“Grandmama accomplished it,” she corrected.

“But no one knew it wasn’t her husband who did the work. The czar was greatly pleased. He burned the plans and map of the tunnels and made arrangements for the immediate installation of the window in his palace.” He paused. “And ordered the execution of Anton Pogani and his wife since they knew the secret and could not be permitted to live. They must have been warned, because they fled Moscow that night and took the Window to Heaven with them.”

“They weren’t warned,” Marianna said. “They knew after they’d been in Moscow only a short time that the czar would never let them leave Russia alive.”

“How?”

“The workers who built the tunnel,” she whispered. Even now the horror of the act made her ill. “When they were no longer needed, the czar had them murdered. Seven hundred and sixty-seven human beings.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Grandmama couldn’t let him reap the benefit of those murders,” she said fiercely. “So she took his precious tunnel away from him. She knew as long as she had the Jedalar that he would feel threatened, that he would never be able to draw a safe breath.”

Jordan nodded. “But they didn’t return directly to Montavia. Anton was wounded in the escape, and they had to find a haven until he could recover. Kazan borders Russia, and they went there instead. They threw themselves on the mercy of the ravin and asked sanctuary. Kazan would not become involved in a dispute with Russia, but the ravin agreed to hide them until Anton could travel.”

“And tried to steal the Window to Heaven while they were about it,” she said sardonically.

“What did you expect?” Jordan shrugged. “Kazan sits on the doorstep of a giant. It’s only practical to try to discover how to fell him if necessary.” He continued, “But your grandparents fled again, this time to Talenka, and sold the Window to Heaven to the church. To steal the Window from the church would have caused a great deal of trouble with the papacy. Since Kazan wanted the Jedalar only as a safeguard anyway, the ravin decided not to make a move as long as there was no danger of it being used against her country.” He paused. “And when the czar had the great kindness to be murdered, it lessened the threat enormously. I suppose your grandmother was very grateful to be safe at last.”

“She knew we’d never be safe, that we’d need a weapon. That’s why she made Mama memorize the exact design of the Jedalar. And why my mother made me do the same thing.”

“It wasn’t a weapon,” he said harshly. “It was a trap. She had no right to make you guardians of a secret that dangerous. She should have smashed the blasted window herself.”

“But then you and Napoleon and Nebrov would have nothing to claw and fight over.” She smiled bitterly. “And when the Window was smashed, they still came after us. Mama would have been killed, even if she had known nothing. They kept asking her over and over where she had hidden the design on which the window was based.” She tapped her temple. “The design is here and only here. Yes, it was a trap, but without it we would have had nothing with which to fight. Besides, she had good reason for running the risk.”

“The treasure room in the tunnel?”

She was prepared for the question. Her mother had said they would undoubtedly know about it. “What treasure room?”

“There were rumors the czar created a room in the tunnel to store his treasures. Did your grandmother hope to go back and compensate herself for the Window to Heaven?”

“Why should I tell you? You don’t need to know. I shall tell you nothing that’s not necessary.”

“Not even to save Alex?”

“We will save Alex, but I’ll give you only what I must.”

His gaze narrowed on her face. “You accused me of risking Alex. Don’t do the same thing, Marianna.”

“How dare you?” Her eyes blazed. “I would never put him at risk. I had to stand by while Mama died protecting Alex and me. Do you think I’ll let her die for nothing? I love Alex. I don’t know why I’m even talking to you. I doubt if you even know what love means.”

“Perhaps not.” He smiled with effort. “I admit I’ve not had extensive experience with that particular emotion.” He rose to his feet. “If it’s not revealing too much to such a callous barbarian, will you tell me how long it will take you to make another Window to Heaven? Nebrov can’t expect you to produce a work of the same quality as the one in Talenka overnight but—”

“It’s already done.”

He went still. “I beg your pardon?”

“As soon as I felt I had the necessary skill and precision to complete it, I made the Jedalar. Did you think all I was doing for the past three years was taking dancing lessons and waiting for time to pass?”

“There was also the small matter of creating the dome for the ballroom.” To her surprise there was a hint of pride in his smile. “I suppose I should have guessed you would never give up. You’re far too determined.”

“So are you, and so is Nebrov. I had to make sure I had something with which to bargain if Alex or I were ever in danger.”

“And, of course, you couldn’t trust me.”

“I could trust no one. Particularly you.”

“Just how did you manage to create a window of that scope and size without any of us knowing about it?”

“Grandmama made sure that everyone assumed the Jedalar was spread out throughout the window’s twenty-three panels, but that wasn’t true. The map occupied only one panel that was three feet long and two feet wide. A panel that size can be easily enough hidden.”

“Where?”

She hesitated. Silence on the subject of the Jedalar had been ingrained in her since childhood, and it was a habit she found difficult to break. “It’s in the stable storeroom among the panels I discarded.”

He gave a low whistle. “Very clever. According to Gregor, you discarded such a large quantity that it became commonplace for you to banish your work to the storeroom. How many panels are out there?”

“Over thirty.” She added, “And we’re going to take them all to Montavia.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because then neither you nor Nebrov will know which is the Jedalar,” she said, “until I choose to tell you.”

“I’d be deeply grateful if you would not link us together verbally. Even though you clearly do it in your mind.”

She did link them together. She had no choice. Jordan was the enemy. Even if he helped her save Alex, he would still try to take the Jedalar from her. She did not know if it could be done, but she must try to save both the Jedalar and Alex.

At the moment it seemed an impossible task. All the anger that had kept her functioning was draining out of her at an alarming rate, and she was so exhausted she could barely sit upright.

“Go to bed,” he said roughly. “You can’t go on like this.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He moved behind her, and his hands cupped the back of her neck.

She stiffened.

“Relax.” He started to massage the tense muscles of her nape. “It’s not as if I haven’t ever done this for you after you’ve worked all day.”

She had a sudden vision of herself sitting at his feet before the fire, his hands moving on her with possession and strength until she had been dazed with contentment. Dazed and dazzled with everything he had done to her during those days at Dalwynd.

His thumbs probed gently. “It loosens the—”

“Don’t touch me.”

He kept kneading her nape. “It’s easing you, blast it.”

“Don’t touch me!”

His hands fell away, and he stepped back. “Do you think I’m trying to seduce you?” he asked quietly as he moved around the chair to stand in front of her. “I’m not a fool, Marianna. You were in need, and I was only trying to help.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“But you may need to accept it before this is over. Doing battle with me over trivialities will sap both our strength and may get in the way of saving Alex.” He stared directly into her eyes. “No matter how much you dislike me at the moment, I believe you know I keep my word. Until Alex is returned to you, I will make no attempt to take anything from you but your cooperation.” He smiled crookedly. “However, after my guilt is expiated, I promise nothing. You know my morals are sadly unstable.” He turned and moved toward the door. “We’ll be leaving before dawn for Southwick. I’d appreciate it if you’d try to get some rest. It would be a great bother having to pick you up off the road if you fainted from exhaustion.”

I t was still dark when Marianna reached the courtyard the next morning. Torches burned bright in their sconces before the front door. Servants bustled to and fro preparing for the departure, and Dorothy was overseeing their efforts.

“This is most undignified.” Gregor shrugged off the help of a solicitous footman and climbed awkwardly into a wagon drawn before the door. He grimaced as he settled himself on the pallet. “I told Jordan I was strong enough to ride, but he insisted I be coddled like an infant.”

Marianna could see why he had made the decision. Gregor’s face was drawn and bloodless in the merciless light. “Are you sure you’re well enough to make the sea journey?”

“What is there to do on a ship but rest? By the time we reach Kazan, I shall be strong as a bull.”

“Kazan? We’re going to Montavia.”

“Jordan has decided we should sail directly to Kazan and negotiate with Nebrov from a position of strength.”

She could see little advantage in such a move. “How kind of him to inform me. Where is Jordan?”

Gregor nodded toward another wagon by the stable. “He is seeing to the crating of your panels.” He chuckled. “What a clever little dove you are proving to be. I never guessed what you were doing.”

“It’s not clever to do what you have to do.” She saw Jordan coming out of the stable and strode across the courtyard toward him. She asked him, “You’ve packed all of them?”

“I’d hardly leave one behind when it might be the Jedalar.”

“But I’d wager you examined every panel very carefully before you had it crated.”

He smiled. “Of course. I even measured them. Every one of them is three feet by two feet. Some of them looked a bit more intricate than others, but I could tell nothing. Any one of them could be the Jedalar. I had the crates marked with a description of the contents to save time when you decide to retrieve it.”

“That will be helpful.” She changed the subject. “Why are we going to Kazan? Gregor says you wish to negotiate from a position of strength, but I don’t want Nebrov to think we’re offering him resistance.”

“Nebrov won’t destroy his weapon just because he perceives it to be threatened. Besides, we may need help after we get the boy away. According to Janus, Nebrov’s power has been growing in Montavia. It would be safer to take Alex to Kazan.”

After they got him away.

Jordan sounded so matter-of-fact that she felt a surge of hope. She could tell herself that all would go well and Alex would be safe, but it was difficult to make herself believe it.

Jordan’s brows lifted. “Satisfied?”

“No, I won’t be satisfied until Alex is free. But we will go to Kazan.”

“I’m glad you agree.” He inclined his head mockingly. “We should have the last of the crates loaded within a few minutes. Be ready to start.”

“I’m almost ready. I’ve only to say my farewells to Dorothy.”

“I’ve already bid her good-bye,” Jordan added dryly. “And was nearly frozen by her disapproval. She seems to think I’ve arranged Alex’s abduction just to lure you farther into my wicked web and—” He stopped, his gaze narrowing on her face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He shook his head, studying her expression. He said slowly, “It’s Dorothy. What did she say to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What did she say?”

She shrugged. “That she forgives me my lack of virtue.”

“Christ.”

She smiled with effort. “I’m sure she considers herself very generous to a woman who is ruined in the eyes of all respectable people.”

He gave a low curse. “She hurt you.”

“She couldn’t help it. She didn’t even realize the hurt was there. She thought she was being kind.” She turned away from him. “I’ll be ready to leave in a few minutes.” She suddenly thought of something and asked over her shoulder, “What favor did you do for her?”

“Favor?”

“When I first met Dorothy, she told me you had once done her a great service.”

“It was nothing of particular note.” When she stood waiting, he shrugged and said, “No one would publish her books. I bribed McArthy and Son to do it.”

“I see.” She felt his gaze on her back as she crossed the courtyard to the steps where Dorothy now stood. Poor Dorothy, her finest triumph had been provided by one of the oppressive males she condemned.

“I will go with you, if you wish,” Dorothy said gruffly. “It’s not seemly for you to travel with Jordan in this fashion.”

Even now, when Dorothy considered her ruined, she was still striving to put things right. Marianna felt a flicker of warmth mix with the sadness. She could not condemn Dorothy for not being all that she wanted her to be; she must accept her for what she was. “Montavia is not like England. You would not understand it. You will be happier here.” She gave her a quick hug. “Good-bye, Dorothy, thank you for all your kindness to me.”

“You will find the boy,” Dorothy said brusquely. “And you’ll be back at Cambaron by summer.”

Marianna merely smiled, then turned and went down the steps to the wagon where Jordan was now waiting.

Without looking at Dorothy, he lifted Marianna onto the seat and then climbed up himself.

“Wave farewell to her,” Marianna said in a low voice.

“The devil I will.”

“She has a great fondness for you. She will be hurt if you’re cold to her.”

He shot her a look. “And what about your hurt?”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles.” Then she demanded, “Wave farewell to her.”

“Obstinate woman.” The faintest smile curved his lips. He lifted his hand in Dorothy’s general direction and then snapped the reins to put the horses in motion.

As the two wagons rolled out of the gates of Cambaron, Marianna glanced over her shoulder at the castle. Lord, how frightened she had been the first time she had caught sight of those four towers. Three years of her life had been spent within those stone walls. It was strange to think that she would never see them again. No matter what the outcome of this journey, she and Alex would not return to Cambaron. She felt an instant of poignant regret and then firmly dismissed it. Cambaron had never really been her home, and she must remember what Grandmama had always told her.

“What are you thinking?”

She looked around to see Jordan observing her.

She was not about to tell him she never intended to return to the castle. Yet Jordan was a part of Cambaron, and she had a sudden desire to share this leavetaking with him. She said haltingly, “Grandmama often had to travel from place to place in order to do her work, and at first she was very unhappy. She would just start to love a place and feel comfortable, and she would have to give it up and leave again. Then she suddenly realized that she wasn’t really giving up anything, because with every window, every panel she had created, she had left a part of herself behind. She said ‘Leave your mark, Marianna, and no one can ever take anything away from you.’”

“She sounds like a very wise woman.”

“Very wise.”

She again looked back over her shoulder at the castle that had sheltered six hundred years of power and privilege. Generations of nobility had come and gone; even royalty had cast their tall shadows in those halls. Yet she would defy any of them to claim they had brought more to this place than she had.

She whispered, “By God, I’ve left my mark on you, Cambaron.”