Выбрать главу

December 12

The Swan Inn, Winchester

Del was woken from a slumber every bit as restless as he’d predicted by Cobby rattling the bedcur-tains.

“It’s morning, believe it or not. Gray as the grave, and equally cold. Whatever passes for sun these days it’s not up yet, but there’s two gentlemen downstairs waiting to see you-Torrington and Crowhurst.”

Del grunted. He pushed back the covers and rose, stretched, suppressing a shiver at the chill in the air. “Tell them I’ll be down directly.”

“Aye, sir.”

Del washed, quickly shaved, then dressed in the clothes Cobby had left warming by the fire. A quick glance out of the window showed a drear landscape bathed in pearl-gray light. No snow had yet fallen, and it wasn’t raining. Good enough weather for traveling.

Downstairs, he passed Cobby in the foyer.

“In the parlor, they are. Thought I’d get breakfast served, seeing you were on your way.”

With a nod, Del strolled on, opened the parlor door, and walked in to find two large gentlemen enthusiastically addressing plates piled with ham and sausages. Both looked up, smiled, and rose as he approached.

Both must have been in the Guards at some point-there was a certain set to their shoulders, a similarity in their long, tall frames.

The dark-haired, black-eyed one held out his hand with a smiling nod. “Delborough, I take it. I’m Torrington.”

Del shook hands.

“Gervase Tregarth.” The second man, with amber eyes and curly brown hair, likewise offered his hand. “Also known as Crowhurst.”

Del smiled. “Call me Del.” He took a seat facing them, his gaze lowering to the platters. “I haven’t had a real English breakfast in over seven years. Is it any good?”

“Excellent.” Torrington picked up his fork. “Very good ham. I’m Tony, by the way-Tony Blake.”

“Blake.” Del helped himself to the ham and three sausages. “There was a Blake behind enemy lines after Corunna.”

“That was me. Old days long gone. Not much call for those sort of larks these days, not for any of us.”

“Which,” Gervase said, reaching for the coffeepot, “is why you’ll find us all very grateful for this chance to get back into some action, no matter how briefly. Civilian life has its challenges, but they aren’t quite the same.”

Just those few exchanges put Del entirely at ease; men like these he understood, because they thought like him.

“We heard,” Tony said around a mouthful of ham, “that you had a spot of bother at the Dolphin.”

“Indeed-it seems the Black Cobra is aware I’m here, and ready, even eager, to engage.”

“Excellent.” Gervase grinned. “Reassuring to know the action’s already underway.”

“So,” Del said, “what word do you have from Wolverstone?”

“Who,” Tony informed him, “is likewise grateful, but, as usual, is keeping his cards exceedingly close to his chest. We’re to head into London, and spend a few days making noise and seeing what cult forces we can draw out. Royce has left the timing to us, but once we feel we’ve done all we can in the capital, we’re to head to Cambridgeshire, to a house called Somersham Place.”

“I know it,” Del said. “Devil Cynster’s home.”

“Where,” Gervase said, “Cynster will be waiting with a crew of other Cynsters. The idea is to lure the Black Cobra to strike at you while there-no reason the cult would know how many ex-Guardsmen are in the house.”

Del chewed, nodded. “So it’ll be an ambush of sorts.”

“Exactly.” Tony refilled his coffee cup, and sat back.

Del arched a brow at them both. “Do you know if any of the others have reached England?”

Tony shook his head.

“I sent word last night to Royce that you’d landed,” Gervase said, “and that we’ll proceed as planned. As far as we’ve heard, you’re the first home.”

Del hesitated, then said, “About proceeding as planned, we have a slight complication-an unexpected addition to our group.” He told them of Miss Deliah Duncannon, and briefly explained why he hadn’t been able to leave her behind.

Tony winced. “Last thing we need, to have to act as nursemaid to a sweet young thing all the way through London and into Cambridgeshire.”

“At least we’ll be able to hand her over to the Cynster ladies once there,” Gervase said.

Del tried to imagine Deliah Duncannon being “handed over.” Or nursemaided. Couldn’t.

He was searching for words with which to correct their misapprehension that Deliah was “a sweet young thing” when Tony continued, “Still, I suppose it’ll just be a matter of leaving her with her maid and your people, well out of the action.” Setting down his empty cup, Tony reached for the coffeepot. “As we should get on the road in the next hour or so, I daresay the first step is to send a message up to this Miss Duncannon’s maid to get her mistress awake.”

“Miss Duncannon is already awake.”

The frosty words brought them to their feet as the door-which Del now realized hadn’t shut properly behind him-swung fully open to admit Deliah, ready for the day in a gray carriage dress, and transparently unimpressed.

Just how long she’d been standing outside the door was impossible to guess.

Del quickly made the introductions, which she acknowledged with a haughty air. Both Tony and Gervase bowed over her hand, endeavoring to appear cheery and charming. Del held a chair for her, while the others recommended the ham and sausages, which she waved away as a maid bustled in with fresh toast and a teapot.

“Thank you.” Deliah smiled at the maid, claimed a slice of toast, then fixed her eyes on Del’s guilty friends. “So how far do you plan to travel today?”

She’d addressed the question to Tony. He looked to Del, but she refused to follow his gaze and continued to look at him inquiringly…as she’d hoped, he felt compelled to answer.

“We should reach London late this afternoon.”

She nodded. “And then into Cambridgeshire.” When they exchanged quick glances, she added, “In time. A few days, maybe more?”

They didn’t correct her, so she nodded again, supposition confirmed. She nibbled her toast, then poured her tea and took a sip, all the while noting the telltale signs of their uncertainty over what to say to her, letting it grow. She set down her cup. “About this mission-what are the relevant details?”

All three shifted. The other two looked at Del, and didn’t look back at her. Eventually, Del said, “Our…commander, for want of a better term, isn’t one to encourage the unnecessary sharing of information.”

She raised her brows. “Indeed? And does this commander know of my existence-that I’ve unwittingly been drawn into his scheme?”

“No.”

“Then he can’t have made any decision against informing me of its details.”

Del met her limpid green gaze, held it. The others were leaving the question of her continued ignorance up to him. If she’d been a man, he would have told her and enlisted her aid. But she wasn’t a man-very definitely wasn’t-and every instinct he possessed came down firmly on the side of leaving her ignorance uninformed, unrelieved. “Be that as it may, there’s no reason for you to…”

Her tight smile was a warning. “Bother my pretty little head about it?”

Brazen, he nodded. “Something like that.” He wasn’t going to be intimidated into surrendering his position.

She held his gaze-again he had the impression they were standing toe-to-toe, certainly will-to-will, and once again found it inexplicably arousing-then she transferred her gaze to Tony. “As it appears we’ll be spending a number of days in London, where are you intending to stay?”

The sudden shift in attack caught Tony unprepared. “Ah…” He glanced at Gervase, then briefly at Del before saying, “We had thought to put up at our private club, but now…”