Beyond a Doubt - By Felicia Rogers Page 0,38
life and death.
Somewhere in this room there had to be information on who to report to if Joshua perished.
Lucy continued to search for the information she needed. She removed portraits from the walls, overturned furniture, and pulled coverings to the side to search the stuffing. The dirt from plants she scooped out into containers. Surely Father had created a hiding spot in this room. With persistence, the place would be found.
She rapped the walls with her knuckles. Pain shot through her hands and up her arm. Around the room, from floor to ceiling, she worked. She crawled toward the door, stopping as her eyes spied the thick legs of someone familiar. Bryce.
She lifted her head, her gaze slowly taking in the figure before her. The expression upon his face showed confusion and genuine concern. Lucy ignored him and continued her hunt.
When every surface had been tapped and touched, Lucy sat in a chair behind the desk. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She held her fist to the air and shook it. Why was this happening? Mission after mission successfully completed, until now.
Without Joshua, her link to the underground died. Without the code’s key, she couldn’t decipher the message. Without a contact list, she couldn’t pass the message along to the next person in line. What was she to do? The entire situation was a hopeless mess.
****
Words poured forth from Lucy’s mouth in an incoherent babble. Lucy looked like a little lost child sitting in the ransacked study, a mound of papers surrounding her, portraits lying upon the floor, and dirt engrained in the rugs.
Bryce approached her with a slow, reserved gait. It wouldn’t do to startle the lass and send her away. Each step he made was carefully placed. Unsure of the importance of the articles scattered about the room, he didn’t wish to risk ruining any of it.
When Bryce reached her side, he squatted next to her. He expected the babbling wild-eyed girl to continue, but instead she stopped talking and threw herself into his open arms.
“What am I going to do?” she cried.
He massaged the upper part of her back and shoulders. He remained silent, uncertain as to what she wanted or needed.
A steady flow of tears soaked his tunic. He tried to follow the meaning of her one-sided conversation, but it was impossible. Messages, shadows, missing papers; none of it made sense to him. Hopefully when Lucy calmed down, a more rational conversation could ensue.
After about ten minutes, Lucy leaned back, wiped the tears from her face, cleared her throat, and stood. “I’m sorry.”
Bryce waited patiently for more explanation, but was disappointed when she said nothing more. He watched in confusion as Lucy resumed her search. Finally she stopped, stood in the middle of the room, and screamed. The sound echoed off the walls and reverberated along his spine.
Bryce rushed to her side. Worry gnawed at his gut. What could have caused such a change in her demeanor? “Lucy, what is wrong with ye?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she replied.
“Try me.”
Lucy rounded on him. A fierce glint lit her eye as she pushed him into a corner. “I’m a spy, an undercover agent for the Huguenots in France. I work to help them keep their property and lives intact. Tonight I watched my contact die. A dagger consigned him to an early grave.
“Now I have a secret message I can’t decode, nor do I know who to pass it along to. All I do know is, if this message is late in its arrival, someone will likely perish.”
Out of breath, Lucy’s chest rose and fell as she circled him. Bryce’s mind filled with every piece of information Lucy spewed upon him. What did it all mean?
A question formed on his lips but was interrupted by a knock. Bryce and Lucy turned their heads at the same time. Before either one of them could move, they heard the squeak of an opening door.
“You forgot your pie.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Hours later, after Winnie and Winifred’s departure, Bryce continued to process all the startling information. Lucy Bard was really Lucille Lombard. In one afternoon she had gone from unlikely socialite to spy.
From what he gathered, her father Louis had been the original spy, and this had gotten him killed. His dying wish had been for Lucy to deliver one important message. But once involved, Lucy had felt obligated to continue. The cause needed her.
Besides, the acts required of her were quite simple. She visited well-to-do Scottish families.