The Price of Pleasure (41 page)

Reed worked at his desk another hour, then asked Hughes to serve luncheon in his study on a tray. He didn’t want anyone bothering him while he went over his plans for this evening’s rendezvous. He wanted to be prepared for a trap should that be Dempsey’s intention.

Tonight would either prove or disprove whether Dempsey was a traitor to the Crown. If he were the guilty party, the reason for the attempts upon Reed’s life became clear. Dempsey knew Reed was tracking a traitor and that the trail might eventually lead to him. But who was his partner? That part presented a mystery. While either Dubois or Barbeau could be French spies, that didn’t necessarily mean they had a reason to want him dead. He was no longer a threat to France. The puzzle wouldn’t fall into place until he had all the pieces.

Fleur paced the drawing room, angry that Reed had forbidden her to go with him. She squared her shoulders. He left her no alternative. Just because he didn’t want her involved didn’t mean she had to obey him. She summoned Updike and Gordon, filling them in on Reed’s plans, aware that of all his employees they were the two he trusted most.

“Gordon and I will attend to his lordship’s safety,” Up-dike said firmly. “You can trust us, my lady. Give us his lordship’s direction.”

“I will give it to you before we leave. Reed insisted upon doing this alone; that’s why I’m enlisting your help without his knowledge. I don’t trust the men he’s dealing with.”

“The traitor, you mean,” Updike sniffed. “I am quite aware that his lordship was betrayed in France. Gordon, here, knows what’s what. Don’t worry, we’ll arm ourselves and be on hand should his lordship need us.”

“Thank you, I knew you’d want to help. I think we should arrive at the rendezvous before his lordship. We can park the carriage nearby and see what develops.”

“If you’ll pardon my saying, my lady, you won’t be accompanying us,” Updike maintained. “I don’t believe his lordship will walk into a trap unprepared. He’ll have a plan in mind; you can depend on it.”

“A plan that doesn’t include me,” Fleur argued. “Either I go with you or no one goes. Only I know where Reed is to meet Mr. Dempsey.”

Updike eyed her narrowly. “His lordship doesn’t want you involved with good reason.”

Frustration gripped Fleur. “Do you want to help or not? I’m fully prepared to go it alone. I can handle a pistol as well as any man.”

Gordon and Updike exchanged speaking glances. “Very well,” Updike agreed. “What time do you wish to leave?”

“Nine o’clock. That will give us a head start on Reed. Bring a weapon if you have one.”

The men nodded and departed. Lisette joined her a short time later, her face set in determined lines.

“Mortimer told me about your plans. You’re not going. Let the men handle this.”

“I have to do this, Lisette. Don’t try to stop me. Reed’s life may be in danger.”

“Very well, if you insist on this folly, I’m going with you.”

“No, Lisette, you’re staying here. Involving too many people is not a good idea.”

“Do not do this,
ma petite,
” Lisette begged. “I’m sure Lord Reed can handle things on his own. He will be angry if you interfere.”

“I’ll have to take that chance, Lisette. I love Reed too much to let him walk into danger alone.” She held up her hand when Lisette opened her mouth to argue the point.

“That’s enough, Lisette. My mind is quite made up.”

The day passed too slowly for Fleur’s peace of mind. Eight o’clock came and went, then eight-thirty. Updike and Gordon left to collect their arms and prepare the carriage. Fleur slipped her own pistol into her pocket, donned her cloak and bonnet, and waited in the foyer.

Moments later, Fleur heard a pounding on the door. Since the butler and footman were in the carriage house, she answered the summons herself. Surprise scarcely described what she felt when she saw Duvall standing on the doorstep. He was highly distraught and appeared nervous.

“Monsieur Duvall, what brings you here at this time of night?”

“Lady Fontaine, forgive me for intruding, but a terrible thing has happened.”

The blood froze in Fleur’s veins. What terrible thing brought Duvall here in such a state? “What is it, Monsieur Duvall? How can I help you?”

“It’s my cousin, Hunthurst.”

Fleur’s hand flew to her mouth. “Dear God, has something happened to Reed?”

“I went to Hunthurst Manor tonight to fetch some things Lady Helen left behind during her move. Hughes let me in. Hunthurst appeared on the gallery and leaned over the railing to see who had called.
Mon Dieu,
I do not know how something so tragic could have happened.”

If Duvall didn’t get to the point soon, Fleur feared she would throttle him. “Tell me,
monsieur
, and leave nothing out.”

Duvall wrung his hands. “As Hunthurst leaned over the railing, I heard a crack, and suddenly the railing gave way. Hunthurst plunged to the floor below.”

“No!” Fleur cried.

“The entire household is in a dither,” Duvall continued. “A physician was summoned and Hunthurst was carried up to his chamber. I followed, of course, willing to do anything I could to help. He was bleeding profusely from his head and seemed quite out of it. When I heard him mutter your name, I knew you’d want to be with him.”

“Oh, yes,” Fleur exclaimed. “I’ll go to him as soon as the carriage is brought around.”

“There’s no time to waste,” Duvall said. “My carriage and driver await us at the curb.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Fleur cried as she fled out the door past Duvall. Duvall hurried after her. He helped her into the carriage, climbed in after her and shut the door.

Fleur was so worried about Reed that she failed to notice the direction in which the coach was traveling. Five minutes later, at precisely nine o’clock, Updike and Gordon parked the carriage in front of the townhouse and waited for Fleur to appear. When she did not, Updike went to fetch her. After a thorough search of the house, it was determined that Fleur was nowhere to be found.

Updike made the decision to find Reed and tell him about Fleur’s sudden disappearance. When he arrived at the mansion, he learned that Reed had already left on some mysterious mission and that none of the house servants knew where he had gone. Since Updike had no idea where or how to contact Reed, he returned to the townhouse in a state of abject terror. Lisette would have his head for this; he dared not think what his lordship would do.

At precisely ten o’clock, Reed stepped out of his carriage and glanced about, looking for signs of a trap. He saw nothing to rouse his suspicion, except for an unmarked vehicle parked across the street in front of another saloon much like the Crow’s Nest. The Crow’s Nest itself was as disreputable as any saloon Reed had ever seen.

“You know what you have to do,” Reed said in an aside to John and Bates. The men immediately melted into the dark shadows.

Reed checked his pistol, made sure his sword was in position for quick withdrawal and walked into the saloon. Reed spotted Dempsey sitting at a table in the common room teeming with boisterous, tipsy customers. Reed stood just inside the door, getting the lay of the land, so to speak.

He found it strange that Dempsey was alone when he’d promised to bring the informant with him.

Aware of potential danger, Reed remained alert, his gaze darting about for signs of covert movement. No one appeared to be paying attention to him. When Dempsey motioned him over, Reed approached his table.

“Sit down, Hunthurst,” Dempsey invited.

“You’re alone,” Reed growled as he pulled out a chair and lowered himself into it.

“Our informer is not a trusting soul. He’s waiting in the alley behind the saloon for us. He fears the traitor might learn of our meeting and seek his death.”

“You’re mad if you think I’m going out in the alley with you. That’s a perfect setup for a trap. If you don’t produce the man, I’m leaving.”

Dempsey stared at him, clearly agitated. “Very well, Hunthurst, you’ve forced my hand.”

“Which hand is that, Dempsey? Is it the one where you reveal your identity as a traitor to the Crown? You’re the one who betrayed me, admit it. Did you think you were above suspicion?”

Clearly Reed’s words shocked Dempsey. “You suspected me? What did I do to rouse your suspicion?”

“It was a combination of many things. Lord Porter refused to believe one of his own men could turn traitor, but I am not so naïve. You’re despicable, Dempsey. Why did you do it?”

“Money, of course, is there any other reason? The French paid well for information, and I had access to secrets others did not. I knew the names of every spy working in Paris and throughout France.”

“Bastard,” Reed hissed. “Justice will be served. There is no informer, is there? You’ve set a trap and expected me to walk into it. It won’t work, Dempsey. I’m one step ahead of you.”

Dempsey smirked. “Are you? We’ll see about that.” He rose. Reed pushed back his chair and gained his feet.

“There’s something outside I wish to show you.”

“Is this another trick, Dempsey? You may as well give yourself up, for I won’t fall for your lies.”

A grin lifted the corners of Dempsey’s mouth. “Will you not? How fond are you of your fiancée?”

Reed’s right hand shifted to his pocket, where he’d placed his pistol. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Dempsey warned. “My partner has orders to kill Lady Fontaine if anything happens to me.”

“I don’t believe you. Fleur is tucked away in her bed, where she belongs.”

“I beg to differ. My partner has her in his carriage, all nicely trussed and gagged. You did notice another carriage parked across the street when you arrived, did you not?”

“Even you wouldn’t stoop so low as to drag a woman into this.”

“Would I not? The Black Widow has a price on her head in France. I stand to collect a hefty reward for her capture or death.”

Reed went cold. Was Dempsey telling the truth? Did he have Fleur? “Hurt Fleur and you’re a dead man.” His voice was low and deadly.

“Why did you betray me? Why do you want my death when I am no longer a threat to Napoleon?”

“Your death is not as important to me as it is to my partner.”

Reed went still, his hand hovering near his sword. “Your partner? Name the bastard.”

“Come with me and find out.”

Reed was torn. If his enemies had Fleur, he couldn’t afford to take chances. He would have to go along with Dempsey. Thank God he’d had the foresight to bring men along with enough sense to follow his orders.

“Very well, I’ll play your game.”

“This is no game, Hunthurst, this is very real.”

Bound and gagged like a Christmas turkey, Fleur cursed herself for an idiot. How had she allowed herself to be tricked by Duvall? Like an irrational fool, she had believed him when he’d said Reed had been hurt, and to make matters worse, she hadn’t paid attention to where he was taking her. It wasn’t until she became aware that the ride to Hunthurst Manor was taking too long that she realized she had fallen for the oldest trick in the world.

When she had confronted Duvall, he reacted quickly. Before she could gather her strength to struggle, he’d pulled a rope from beneath the seat and bound her arms and legs. When she opened her mouth to scream, he had stuffed a rag into it.

Fleur knew where Duvall had taken her. When she smelled the stench of the Thames, she realized they were somewhere in the vicinity of the docks, probably near the Crow’s Nest. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why she had been abducted. Dempsey had set a trap for Reed, and she was the bait. Furthermore, Dempsey and Duvall were in cahoots. Dempsey was a traitor and Duvall a French spy. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Because her inclination had been to place Dubois in the role of spy and to ignore Duvall as an annoying but harmless hanger-on.

“It shouldn’t be long now,” Duvall said. “We’ll soon have Hunthurst right where we want him.”

Fleur tried to speak, but the gag cut off her words.

“I planned all this, you know,” Duvall bragged. “Finally I’ll get what’s coming to me. And you, Madame Black Widow, will get what you deserve. Your rescue of Hunthurst undid all my careful planning to end his miserable life.

“I even helped his brother to his final reward, did you know that?”

Horror-stricken, Fleur stared at Duvall in disbelief. Duvall was a monster—no, worse than a monster. Did Reed know what he was walking into? She prayed he wouldn’t fall into the trap Duvall and Dempsey had set for him.

Reed kept his wits about him as he followed Dempsey out the door and into the dank, dark night. From the corner of his eye he saw John and Bates edging out from the shadows. With a shake of his head, he indicated that they should remain hidden. He had to think of Fleur above all else. He had to know if she was in danger before summoning help.

Dempsey prodded Reed toward the carriage that had been parked across the street but was now parked in front of Reed’s own conveyance.

“Turn over your sword and whatever else you’re carrying,” Dempsey ordered. He held out his hand. “Knowing you, you have a concealed weapon somewhere on your person.”

“Why should I? Show me proof that Fleur is inside the carriage as you claim and I might consider it.”