Checkmate, My Lord

chapter Twenty-two


Catherine rubbed the growing ache in her stomach. It was stronger now, verging on nausea. At first, she thought the unpleasant sensation was nothing more than nerves. After all, a country mother could only handle so much deceit, death, and threat before falling victim to such feminine frailty. But she was not experiencing a bout of anxiety. No, these symptoms were darker, graver. They bespoke foreboding and danger. Death. The warning flashed through her mind, sharp and clear.

She buried her nose in the thin layer of linen covering Sebastian’s chest and inhaled. His familiar scent, his silent strength, and his willingness to just hold her for the last hour had done nothing to assuage the dread crawling in her stomach. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I must return home.” Unfolding her body, she rose from his lap. “I cannot shake this feeling that something is wrong.”

The moment she had arrived, she’d conveyed her conversation with Silas to Sebastian. Although disturbed by the news, he had not been surprised by her gaoler’s revelations.

Sebastian pushed out of the cushioned high-back chair to stand beside her. “I have men watching over your family.” He slid a large, warm hand around the side of her neck, his thumb smoothed across her cheek.

The last time I experienced this kind of unrelenting anxiety,” she said, “I found Sophie stuck in a tree with a feral dog prowling beneath.”

His other hand came up to frame her face and then he kissed her. A long, slow, achingly tender kiss. A kiss that wove soft fingers of longing into the midst of her fear.

Lifting his head, he said, “Then it is a sensation not to be ignored.” He moved away and began tucking in the tail of his shirtsleeves.

What are you doing?”

Coming with you.”

I thought we were to carry on as before—at least for another day or two.”

He grasped her hand and towed her from his bedchamber. “It’s always best not to draw undue attention, that is true. However, your gaolers cannot fault me for seeing you home.”

Fifteen minutes later, they guided their horses down the path connecting their two properties. With unerring accuracy, Sebastian guided them along the same route she’d taken since the onset of their affaire. He even selected the narrow deer path she preferred, rather than forging down the wider track that skimmed along the edge of a thirty-foot ridge. In the daytime, she enjoyed the view such a path provided. At night, she liked something a little more stable. “Have you been following me home?”

What gave you that impression?”

Did the man never provide a direct answer? “Your familiarity with a route others would pass by without notice.”

I might have ventured along this path a time or two.”

She narrowed her eyes on his back. “Still don’t trust me with your secrets, my lord?”

He threw her a heavy-lidded glance over his shoulder. “The same could be said of you.”

What do you mean?” she asked. “I have told you every detail of Cochran’s plan—at least, what I know of it.”

He whipped his big, black horse about, making Gypsy toss her head in annoyance. “I’m not speaking of Cochran’s plan.” His blue-gray eyes caressed her features with a thoroughness that left her breathless and exposed.

She lowered her gaze to Gypsy’s mane, afraid he saw too much. “Pray enlighten me, sir.”

Silence reigned through the dense woodland for several uncomfortable seconds. Then he said, “Some secrets are best left unrevealed, don’t you think? Enlightenment can sometimes complicate an uncomplicated situation.”

He definitely saw too much. The back of her throat ached with unshed tears. Had she really allowed herself to hope? To think that their time together had burrowed beneath his skin and taken hold, as it had hers? Stupid, stupid, lonely widow.

Wise as always, my lord.” She squared her shoulders and then met his gaze. “Perhaps we should carry on.”

He hesitated but a moment before turning toward Winter’s Hollow again. If Sebastian’s pace was somewhat faster than before, Catherine dared not remark upon it. One reminder of their agreement in a five-minute time span was more than enough.

They spent the rest of their journey in contemplative silence, a circumstance both painful and welcome. Once they reached the edge of her garden, they dismounted and tied off the horses. Grasping her hand, he led her along the garden wall, pausing several times to listen. Then he circled around to the east side of the manor. All the while, his gaze never stopped moving, never stopped searching. The closer he maneuvered them to their destination, the more focused he became.

Rather than continuing on to the front entrance, he stopped at the corner, pressing them up against the rough stone of the manor. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

He squeezed her hand in warning and then peered around the corner. When he shifted back, his gaze sought hers. “Do you trust me?”

The planes of his face appeared cast in granite and his beautiful eyes had transformed into spheres of ice. She nodded, afraid to speak.

He lifted their clasped hands and kissed the tips of her fingers. “You mentioned once that Silas greets you in the hall each night.”

Yes.”

You must find out if he’s there.”

Where will you be?”

My men are not at their posts,” he said in a calm voice. “I must try to locate them.”

Her heart bashed against the cage of her chest. The dread she’d been carrying intensified to a crushing degree. Sophie. She pushed away from the stone wall. Sebastian dragged her back and placed his index finger over her protesting lips.

Then he directed his gaze to the curtain of darkness. In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “Raven, to me.”

Catherine’s eyes widened when a short-haired woman wearing exotic, silken breeches emerged from the shadows.

The young woman stopped beside them. “Chief. Mrs. Ashcroft.”

Did you see any signs of them?” he asked the newcomer.

No, sir.”

Without conscious thought, Catherine leaned into Sebastian’s body. The scar curving around the woman’s left cheek triggered a vague memory, but her mind wanted to focus on nothing but getting to Sophie and her mother. “Sebastian, please—”

Catherine,” he said. “This is my former ward, Cora. She will accompany you inside while I check on things out here. You may trust her as you trust me.”

Everything came together in a flash of images. The maid serving oysters, the servants she didn’t recognize at her daughter’s party, the heart-wrenching note scribed by Cora-belle. The Nexus had come.

To Cora, he said, “One of her gaolers might be awaiting you just inside. Dispose of him if you must; however, your mission is to locate the child and grandmother.”

Yes, sir.”

If I do not return in ten minutes, go to Helsford and get the women to safety. Understood?”

The younger woman’s lips compressed, but she nodded her agreement.

Sebastian’s thumb swiped over the ridges of Catherine’s knuckles before nudging her out of the shadows. “Go.”

But—”

Go, Cat,” he said again. “Listen to Cora.”

Come, Mrs. Ashcroft,” Cora said in a gentle, yet firm voice. “Let us make sure your family is well.”

The landscape of Catherine’s world shifted and tilted in so many directions and with such velocity that she found herself following a stranger, who wore a contraption around her midsection housing an assortment of lethal weaponry, without complaint. Accustomed to making her own decisions, she would have found her current dilemma laughable if it wasn’t all so terrifying.

Before rounding the corner, Catherine glanced back to find Sebastian’s luminescent eyes on her. The situation was reminiscent of their time in the woods while searching for Meghan McCarthy. A shiver tracked down her spine.

Drawing in a deep breath, she followed Raven into God-knew-what.

***

The moment Catherine disappeared from view, Sebastian forced his clenched fist open, releasing some of the tension of his decision to part ways with her. With Danforth and Helsford in the village, it was left to him to secure their perimeter. After Cora’s recent encounter with the French, he did not worry about her ability to protect Catherine. She was as capable as any of his male agents, though he would have preferred not to have involved her, especially so soon after the difficulties of her last mission.

He found Jack and Bingham behind the gardener’s shed—bound, gagged, and unconscious. After a bit of shaking, Jack came to and staggered to his feet. However, nothing Sebastian did roused the older Bingham.

Jack,” Sebastian said. “Can you make your way to the village? Helsford and Danforth are there.”

The young Irishman ran a hand around the back of his neck, angling his head this way and that. “Aye, m’lord.” He stared down at his comrade. “What of old Bingham?”

He received a bad knock to the head. For now, he’s safe.”

Jack ripped off his coat and placed it beneath the older man’s head.

What happened?”

Can’t say, m’lord. One minute I was walking toward Bingham to see if he had any news, and the next, I was waking up to you rattling my head.”

Frustration coiled through Sebastian. “How long ago were you attacked?”

What’s the time?”

Half past ten.”

Not more than twenty minutes ago.”

Sebastian stilled, his gaze seeking the high angles of the manor’s roof. “Bring Danforth and Helsford now.” He didn’t wait for Jack’s acknowledgment before turning toward the house.

Toward Catherine’s terror-filled scream.

***

Later, Catherine would not recall her flight from the ground floor to the third-floor nursery. Silas’s absence at the door combined with Sebastian’s missing men confirmed the sensations she’d been battling all evening. Sophie was in danger. And Catherine had not been here to protect her baby girl.

Somewhere along the way their panicked flight roused her mother, who was now trailing in their wake. Once they reached the nursery’s closed door, Cora motioned for Catherine and her mother to move aside. The agent drew a wicked knife from the intriguing sash around her middle. She turned the handle and stepped back, using her fingertips to slowly open the door.

Cora’s gaze met Catherine’s across the short distance and she raised a staying finger. Catherine nodded and held her breath as the agent slipped into the too-silent room. She had no intention of lingering in the corridor while the other woman put her life in danger. After three full seconds, she inched her body around the open doorway until she found herself facing Castle Dragonthorpe. Her mother’s shoulder bumped into hers.

The two of them stood side by side, shaking with fear but determined to save their girl, the one who brought sunshine into their lives each and every day.

Castle Dragonthorpe yawned before them, occupying half the common room. The other half consisted of a school desk, a small bookcase, and an assortment of more feminine toys littering the floor. Two doors framed the common room, the right one an entrance to her daughter’s bedchamber and the left one spilling into the nurse’s small chamber, which was currently occupied by Sophie’s faux governess.

Cora was nowhere in sight.

Foregoing the nurse’s chamber, Catherine veered right, her mother at her heels.

Mrs. Ashcroft,” Cora yelled from Sophie’s room. “Come quickly.”

Blood fired through her veins. Catherine barreled across the short distance and skidded to a halt inside her daughter’s bedchamber. “What?”

An answer was unnecessary, for the pool of blood at her daughter’s bedside said it all. Terror gurgled up into the back of her throat, and Catherine released it in one long never-ending breath.