Mistress of Sins (Dredthorne Hall #3) - Hazel Hunter Page 0,63

holding out the tea.

The treat lured Margaret to her favorite spot by the hearth, where she sat and nibbled while Jennet related the least alarming news from the village. That included the long-awaited engagement of Prudence Hardiwick.

“Lady Hardiwick must be none too pleased that her daughter has accepted Peter Mason,” Margaret said. “His means are quite modest, and he looks after his widowed sister.”

“Her ladyship told me herself while I was in the haberdasher’s shop.” Jennet had felt pleased to hear it as well, for it proved Prudence had taken her reading to heart. “She seems more relieved than annoyed, and plans an early spring wedding.”

“As naughty as Prudence can be? I should obtain a special license and have them to the church by week’s end.” Her mother dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “Oh, these cakes are delightful. You always know how to cheer me, my dear.”

That she did, Jennet thought, feeling a little depressed now. She had nothing to regret, of course, and felt quite capable of managing anything after surviving that night at Dredthorne Hall. In the weeks to come she would learn if there would be a child, and if so she and Margaret would act on the plans they had made. Doubtless they could find a pleasant cottage in a small Scottish town where she could spend her confinement. Having her mother with her would be a great comfort when the baby came.

“I think I will take a turn out of doors before it grows too cold,” Jennet said, refilling her mother’s tea cup before she rose. “I will return in half an hour.”

“Please stay to the gardens, where I can see you,” Margaret asked, and then grimaced. “I know I am being ridiculous again, but it comforts me to keep you in my sight.”

“You have always kept me safe, Mama.” Jennet bent to kiss her mother’s brow. “There is nothing silly about that.”

Outside clouds blanketed the November skies, and the bite of the breeze made Jennet wrap her cloak more tightly around her. She walked out from the terrace to where she might sit by the fountain. But she stopped in her tracks when she saw the man who waited there, his wind-swept hair now gleaming black, with only a few strands of silver. He regarded her with his hooded green eyes, beneath which lay the dark smudges left by what she assumed had been several sleepless nights.

Good, then he had suffered as much as she, Jennet thought, and not gone to France. Perhaps she was the love of his life, then. He was certainly hers.

“You stole my cloak,” Greystone said as he watched her approach.

She glanced down at herself. “You traded it for a coat before you rode off with Catherine to London. It is now my cloak.”

“I have come for you,” he told her. “Not the damned cloak.”

“Whatever for?” Her gaze went to his hands, in which he held a small ring box, and she skittered backward. “Oh, no. Not again. We have already done this once, sir, and it ended very badly for me. Go back to France. You seem much happier when you are killing people.”

Greystone gave her an exasperated look. “My superiors have let it slip that Pickering was the Raven. Guillame Girard, the merchant, has died in France. I am to return to a private life as a gentleman. You are my wife now in everything but name. For God’s sake, Jenny, put me out of my misery and marry me.”

Jennet knew there was more to it than that, and sat down beside him. “You still have secrets. I can see them in your eyes.”

“I came to tell you the last of them,” Greystone said. “And then I meant to propose.”

“You’ve done one,” she said. “Now the other.”

“My father was the Raven,” he said, and looked out at the horizon. “He created Guillame Girard and served the crown as an assassin for many years. It was why he was away from home so often, but not even my mother knew. Seven years ago, Father began to have pains in his chest and difficulty breathing. The doctors told him that his heart and lungs were failing, and he could no longer exert himself as he had. That was when he told me the truth, because he needed me to be the Raven.”

A terrible certainty filled her. “Your father asked you to take his place.”

He nodded. “You remember that we looked enough alike to be twin brothers. My grandmother was half French, and my mother saw to it that I could speak the language like a native. Father’s spymaster and his people trained me to do the rest.”

She gripped the edge of the fountain’s basin. “You could not refuse him?”

“Father made it clear what would happen if Guillame Girard suddenly disappeared without explanation,” he admitted. “Every agent who had worked with him would have been arrested and interrogated. Bonaparte’s Minister of Police is a merciless brute. Most would have been tortured to death, leaving destitute their wives and children.”

“You really had no choice.” Jennet shuddered. “If you had explained this to me seven years ago, I would have called off the wedding.” And she would have waited for him, not that she would tell him that.

Greystone took hold of her hand. “I first learned of my father’s work as an assassin on the day before we were to be married. He told me that I would have to leave for France by the week’s end. I could not marry you, or even tell you why I had to go. Father insisted that everyone believe that I had changed my mind and run.”

Jennet could not imagine the torment he must have felt. “Have you told the baroness the truth?”

“I did before I came here, but only because we were both in London.” He rubbed his thumb across her palm. “She is traveling to Gerard Lodge today.”

Jennet looked down as she felt him slip a ring onto her finger. A square-cut diamond twinkled up at her. “You are very quick, my lord. I have not yet given you my answer.”

“I may have given you my child,” Greystone told her very sternly. “If not, I will try very hard to remedy that every night henceforth.” He touched her cheek. “Come to Scotland with me now, Jenny. We can be married by the morning, and return to Renwick as we should always have been: husband and wife.”

“Well, I do like your mother and Gerard Lodge.” She studied her new ring. “You are a very wealthy peer of the realm. Should anyone threaten me, you would prove an adequate bodyguard. Rose Abernathy will be absolutely livid. Hmm.”

“I will make an offer for Dredthorne Hall, if you wish.” He chuckled as she swatted him. “It is the place where we fell in love again.”

“I hated you,” Jennet confessed. “I cursed you, and burned all of your notes and cards and the flowers I had pressed. I never spoke your name, and tried every day to forget you. And I never stopped loving you. Not for a moment.”

He brought her hand to his lips. “Nor I you.”

Jennet heard the door to the terrace opening, and looked up to see Margaret rushing straight for them.

“All is well, Mama,” she said quickly as she and Greystone got to their feet. “Ah, you remember Liam?”

“I know precisely who he is. Well, sir, you have considerable nerve to show your face on my property.” Margaret stopped in front of them and stared at Jennet’s hand. “Just a moment. William, did you put that ring on my daughter’s finger?”

“I did, ma’am.” Greystone bowed, but as he came back up the older woman balled up her fist and punched him in the nose.

Jennet’s jaw dropped. “Mama.”

Margaret shook her hand. “You have my blessing, sir. Please, do stay and dine with us. We should begin planning the wedding at once.” She smiled at him. “And if you leave my daughter standing alone in a church again, or in any way disgrace her or our family name, I will hunt you down and shoot you dead myself.”

Greystone bowed again, and then watched as her mother marched back into the house. “I think we are not eloping, Jenny,” he said as he put his arm around her.

“I daresay.” She leaned against him. “She still has Father’s pistols.”