“Excellent work, John.” Wakeford came up beside them just as Dartois was heaved out of the river by two of his men. They dumped the Frenchman, a great sodden mess of clothes and limbs, on the side of the quay.
“He’s hit his head on something,” said one of the men, examining Dartois’ scalp and then placing an ear above the unconscious man’s mouth. “But he’s breathing.”
As if on cue, Dartois wrenched upwards, coughing up water and rolling over onto his side.
“Lord Dartois, you’re under arrest by order of the King for acts against the Crown,” Wakeford said, coming to stand over the man who shot him a venomous look.
Suddenly, Dartois, who had appeared such an ominous and unknowable figure, was now merely a man. Soaking wet and caught out on St Saviour’s dock.
Avers felt Emilie move within his arms and immediately loosened his grip. Her head came up from where it had been resting against his chest and she pulled herself free so she was standing beside him. But Avers did not wholly relinquish his grip from around her waist—not when Dartois was conscious and so nearby.
“Here, Wakeford,” Avers said, spying the leather portfolio on the ground and bending to pick it up. “I believe this is what Mademoiselle Cadeaux was retrieving for you when she was kidnapped against her will.” He handed the packet to his friend.
Wakeford looked between Avers and Emilie, his stare hard upon them both, as he took the portfolio. He examined the papers and then, satisfied they were those that had been stolen, he looked up again, with a relieved smile on his face.
“A nice tidy story we have then, John. Take him away,” he commanded the men standing over Dartois. They hauled the man to his feet and dragged him off down the quay to a waiting carriage.
Wakeford turned back to shake Avers warmly by the hand. “I owe you my reputation and my career after all you have risked on my behalf. And you, Mademoiselle—” He turned to bow towards Emilie. “I thank you for the service you have done for my country. I see now that my friend Avers was not remiss in putting his faith in you. A lady who would risk her life for others is a woman worthy of his affection.”
Avers’ fingers tightened around Emilie’s waist at the overtness of Wakeford’s words. He glanced down and saw her colouring.
“Now,” Wakeford continued, oblivious to this response to his words, “if you will excuse me—we must run down that ship and try to find out the identity of who Dartois was planning to sell the papers to.” He nodded to Avers and bowed towards Emilie. “I trust you will see the lady safely home?”
“You have my word,” Avers replied.
Wakeford departed, following the trail of water left by Dartois visible in the lantern light, and the couple watched after him in a sudden stillness after such a burst of excitement.
“Let me see you,” Avers said now they were alone, aside from the servant who stood a little way off waiting for them. Avers coaxed her gently around to stand before him and reached up, hands cupping her cheeks, running over her shoulders and down her arms. “Are you hurt at all? You’re trembling. Are you cold?”
“N-no,” she stammered, teeth chattering. “It’s not th-the cold.”
“The shock,” Avers said with a nod, his eyes staring deeply into hers. “You are safe now, I promise. Dartois will not hurt you anymore.”
She nodded dumbly, but when she felt a little movement in her skirts, she came to life. Remembering Lutin, she bent to pick him up and hold him against her.
“Your little protector.” Avers smiled. “I knew you would want to see Lutin as soon as you could. Now come, I must get you out of this night air. If you will allow me, I wish to escort you to my aunt’s house. You’ll be safe there and we can decide where you will go after that.”
He saw a flash of anxiety come into her eyes again and hastened to reassure her. “Have no fear, you will be protected with my aunt. Trust me, no one would dare cross her. You will understand when you meet her.”
“What?” Her fine brows puckered. “No, I cannot stay with your aunt. I could not put her in such a position.”
It was the most she had spoken since her ordeal so Avers didn’t want to argue with her despite the strong feelings urging him to do so. He opted for a more gentle approach.
“Nonsense. My aunt will be delighted at such drama crossing her threshold. You have no idea how she lives for just such intrigue. Oh, do not fear. We will not tell her about your—”
“That is exactly why I cannot go there,” Emilie argued, and suddenly the fear and the shock all disappeared, revealing the vehement, strong, independent woman that had both intrigued and frustrated him for weeks in Paris.
“You,” said Avers forcefully, all jollity gone from his voice, “are a woman of worth. My aunt will be honoured to host you, and I will not leave you alone until you agree to accompany me.”
“And who am I accompanying?” Emilie asked, looking from the small bundle of fur in her arms up into his eyes.
He felt a stab of guilt.
“John, Lord Avers, third son of my father, with very few prospects, and friend of Wakeford, whose absent cousin I bear a striking resemblance to.”
“His Grace, the Duke of Tremaine?” Emilie asked.
“Exactly so.”
Avers watched her dark-haired head bob as she took in the truth.
“So, you played a part in order to help your friend?”
“I did.” Avers did not try to defend his actions. He had spun a tale for her to believe and now the truth was out. “Please, let me take you to my aunt,” he said, the gentle tone unfamiliar in his usually sardonic mouth.
A pucker appeared between her brows as she looked at Lutin’s fluffy little head in her arms and then down the dock towards a dark city.
“I have nowhere else to go.” Her voice was so small Avers felt an absurdly strong desire to pull her back into his arms and squeeze her tightly against him again.
“Come with me.”
She finally took his offered hand and they turned from the site of her salvation and walked towards his waiting carriage. He had persuaded her to stay with his aunt. The latter would derive immense pleasure from the arrangement, he was certain. He must ensure he kept Emilie safe from his aunt’s sharp judgements and sharper tongue.
That would settle Emilie for the immediate future, but the longer-term was another matter. Avers’ next task would be to persuade Emilie how much he cared about her.
CHAPTER FORTY
