Chapter Seven #2
“He…” Allan choked on the implied lie. “I checked the temperature and the pulse regularly, and they both improved quite quickly. Black continued sleeping on one side. I saw no danger, so I let you sleep.”
Both Baldwin and Cornelius, the brothers who knew Allan best, studied him with narrowed eyes. Or perhaps it was just Allan’s conscience that assumed suspicion where none existed.
Why did he not simply announce Black’s deception? Then, if Black denied it, they could strip his shirt off and settle the issue once and for all.
But something in him baulked at that solution, and he kept Black’s secret then, and when she—he—came back downstairs now fully dressed.
Oh bother. He decided he would just refer to her as a she, instead of a he, for what was the use—at least in his private musings—of pretending she was a man when he, at least, knew she was not?
Baldwin glared at Allan. “Are you going to question this interloper? Or shall I?”
Allan waved a hand, inviting him to take the lead, and Baldwin began the questioning.
“Explain yourself, Black. Where have you been and how did you get out?”
“I spent Christmas with my sister, my nephew, and my daughter,” said Black. Not a response that Allan expected, and Baldwin, too, appeared nonplussed.
“I swapped the bowls,” Black added. “You drugged me the first night, and the bowls were the only way it could have been done. Just to be certain, I switched the mug set out for me for a clean one, as well. On the second night, I followed you to the Golden Adonis, but on Christmas Eve, I went home, to see my family.”
“Or to collude with our enemy,” Cornelius growled.
Black ignored the hostility in that remark.
“Your enemy is my enemy,” she said, calmly.
“I have been trying to find evidence to convict the Marquess of Teign of at least some of his crimes. When he advertised for an investigator, I thought it a chance to enter his home with a license to poke around.” She shrugged.
“I did not expect to be shut in a tower with his sons.”
She sounded sincere, but then, she was a practiced liar. Allan didn’t know what to believe. “Having discovered you would not have the freedom of the house, you came back,” he pointed out. “Why?
“To make common cause with you, if I can, and to help with your escape,” Black said. “Escape is the plan, is it not?”
The brothers exchanged glances, and Baldwin swore, and lunged toward Black, reaching for him—whether to shake him or strangle him, Allan didn’t know. He put out a hand to stop his brother and addressed Black. “Explain how you came to that conclusion.”
“Some of it, various ones of you have told me, some I have overheard, some I have deduced. You have been trapped in this tower by your love for one another. The marquess never lets you all out at the same time. If any of you disobey his orders, the others are hostages to be beaten or otherwise abused at his command.” Black raised her brows. “Am I correct so far?”
Allan nodded, while others murmured affirmatives.
Black continued. “You are all working at the Golden Adonis. I deduce you are saving your wages, for you eat leftovers from the club and have few luxuries here in the tower. Saving for what? The rest is largely deduction. The first duty of a prisoner of war is to escape. In your case, the escape of one is a risk to the others, so you must all escape at the same time. It follows that you are saving to escape.”
“We should kill him now,” Baldwin said. “Who knows what he has told the marquess?”
Black didn’t flinch. She calmly said, “That would be a mistake, Lord Baldwin. I propose an alliance. You want an escape. I want the marquess’s complete defeat, and with it, your freedom.”
At that moment, the bell rang to announce a visitor in the antechamber. It proved to be Farnham the steward, one of the marquess’s worst henchmen, come for Black. Allan felt so strong an urge to protect her that he nearly punched the man, and damn the consequences.
Black, however, seemed unafraid as she said to Farnham, “I have nothing to report yet, and the two weeks of the contract are not up. I am happy to come and tell the marquess that I know nothing, if you are more concerned about giving him that message than about wasting his time.”
Farnham gaped at her while he considered the marquess’s likely reactions, and then came down on the side of caution. “Stop gabbing and come along,” he growled, grabbing her arm.
“I am coming, Mr. Farnham,” she told him, with an amused smile. “No need to rumple my coat.” She shook him off, and strode toward the door. The brute was so surprised he allowed it.
Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists helped Allan not to make a futile effort to stop the steward.
Futile, because all it would get him was the invasion of an armed force of bully boys, ready to beat all his brothers for Allan’s transgression.
But it was hard to see her blithely strolling away into the lion’s mouth.
She is the enemy, he told himself. But his heart didn’t believe it.
He paced the floor until Baldwin asked him what on earth was wrong. “If Black is beaten by his lordship, what is that to us?” he asked.
“Hardly fair, Baldwin,” Frank objected. “Black has been as honest with us as he can. We’re the ones who have been lying. He says he wants to help us, and I believe him.”
“That’s because you don’t have a false bone in your body, Frank,” said Cornelius. “Black certainly has charm. I’ll give him that. But charm is not to be trusted. Allan’s wife was charming. His lordship can be charming.”
“Yes, yes,” said Allan. “And your wife was charming. And true to the core. And so duplicitous that she was able to escape even his lordship without leaving a clue to her whereabouts.”
Cornelius snorted. “That was the plan,” he pointed out.
“Precisely.” Couldn’t Cornelius see the point? One should never underestimate a woman. Of course, Cornelius didn’t know that Black was a woman, so Allan couldn’t blame him for not understanding what Allan meant.
He realized he had begun to pace again. Throwing himself down into his chair, he picked up the book that happened to be on the table next to him and opened it at random.
He could feel his brothers’ stares, and waited for them to go about their own activities.
It didn’t happen. After several minutes he looked up and found them all staring at him.
“What?” he demanded.
“That is my copy of Chess Analyzed,” Frank said. “Since when do you read chess books?”
“You keep beating me,” Allan said. “I need to improve my game.”
“You will learn more if you turn the book right side up,” commented Baldwin.
Damn it.
At that moment, the bell rang from the antechamber. Isaac was nearest the stairs, and was bounding up them two at a time to check the peephole before the sound had died. “It’s Black,” he called down after a moment. “He’s on his own.”
Allan wasn’t closest to the door, but he reached it before Donald drew back the bolts, turned the key, and opened it. Black swaggered in, all in one piece. The relief made Allan furious, and when he left Donald resecuring the door and caught up with Black, his fury surged and found a focus.
One side of her face was swollen and bruised, and her lip was cut, obviously from a blow. The marquess would pay for this. One day. It was not the worst thing he had done by any means, but it was going on the list.
As for Black… “Baldwin, Cornelius, we’re taking Black out with us tonight. Black, it’s time for you to go home.”
“What?” Black glared at him, her eyes sparking fire. “I’m not leaving. I have not finished what I came here to do.”
“Woman, you are already hurt. Who knows what he’ll do to you next?
What if he orders you stripped for a beating?
He’ll discover your secret.” He stamped a foot for emphasis, forcing the desperate words out through gritted teeth.
“I cannot lose another person under my protection. I will not, Black.” He growled.
“Aaargh. What is it? Miss Black? Mrs. Black?” An alarming thought occurred to him. “Is there a Mr. Black?