Page 39 of Mistress of Sins

Hope was everything he had taken from her seven years ago. Whatever became of him, he had to do right by her this time. The kitchen door banged open inside the house, and he nodded to her.

“Do not let them shoot me, Liam.” In a louder voice Jennet called out, “Oh, please, someone, help me.”

Her cry drew the agents out through the door a moment later. As soon as Jean-Pierre barreled out the vicar swung the firewood like a cricket bat at his knee. The impact made bone crunch and buckled the man’s leg, sending him sliding across the ground. He choked on the dirt filling his face, but could not rise.

As the second agent saw him go down he turned toward Greystone and brandished a long blade. He pointed Jennet’s pistol down and shot him in the foot, toppling him with a howl. A boot to the jaw knocked him out cold.

The third man stopped on the threshold, staring at his comrades and then the vicar, who stood ready with the firewood. His jaw tightened.

“You should know that this man is the Raven,” Jennet told him in French, and nodded at Jeffrey Branwen. “Surrender to him immediately, or I daresay he will impale you where you stand.”

Greystone almost laughed out loud as the vicar took a step forward and smiled with all of his teeth.

“I have seen him do such a thing to another, my friend,” Greystone told the agent, and made a gesture toward his own buttocks. “It is perhaps the worst way to die that I know.”

The Frenchman stared wide-eyed at him, and dropped the blade. Gingerly he dropped to his knees and held up his hands in surrender.

Jeffrey kicked away the blade and surveyed all three men with visible satisfaction. “I do believe I came to the right house tonight.”

* * *

Jennet knew the vicar wanted her to accompany him to the magistrate’s house. With three French agents now tied up and stowed in his carriage, and a very narrow driver’s perch, there was no room for her to ride along. They also couldn’t risk leaving any of the agents behind at Dredthorne Hall.

“Baron Greystone will take me home,” she said to the vicar, knowing it was the kindest of lies. “I will be safe with him.”

“Very well, if you are certain.” Jeffrey took hold of her hands. “You are truly a remarkable young woman, and your mother should be very proud of what you did here. And I promise you, I will never breathe a word to her about any of it.”

“For which you will have my eternal gratitude, Mr. Branwen. God speed.” She squeezed his hands, and then stood by the lions guarding the gate and watched as he drove off.

The short walk back to Dredthorne Hall gave Jennet some time to prepare herself for what she suspected was coming. At the entry Greystone stood waiting beside two horses. Catherine, who had been gagged and securely tied across the saddle of one horse, glowered at her. She turned her back on her former friend and regarded the man about to climb onto the second mount.

He was leaving her behind again, only this time she knew why.

“You saved my life tonight,” Greystone said as she removed and handed him the coat in which she’d hidden his book. He removed his own cloak, and wrapped it around her. “More importantly, you saved countless lives by helping me capture Catherine Tully and her men, and keeping the cipher out of their hands. I do not know how to thank you, Jenny.”

“You are going back to France.” Somehow she wasn’t surprised when he nodded. “I think I knew you would. It is a time of war, and you are soldier, like my father.”

“If you are…” He stopped and turned his face away from her, as if he needed to collect himself. “If you discover that you are increasing, please write to my mother, and tell her it is my child. She will not welcome the news that I am responsible, but I believe she will help you.”

“What I do if I am pregnant is not your concern. Look at me, please.” When he did she walked up to him, until she was close enough to touch him, until he could feel her breath on his face. “You think that you are abandoning me again. I tell you now that you cannot. I have loved you since the first time I saw you in church. That quiet girl with the braids dreamed of meeting you again someday, so she might have the chance to become better acquainted with you. She wrote your name in her diary, over and over, next to her own. Mrs. Jennet Gerard, wife of Mr. William Gerard. You were my every hope of happiness.”

“Do not do this, Jennet,” he muttered.

“I have already. I saved myself for you, Liam. I always will, and whatever you choose to do, you will never truly leave me. For you will always be in my heart.” She stepped back. “Good-bye, my love.”

Jennet stood and watched him mount his horse, and then gazed at his back as he rode down the drive with Catherine in tow. Only when he had disappeared from sight did she wrap herself more securely in his cloak, and turn to regard the old house.

All of the windows had gone dark now, but they reflected the full moon as if it were dozens of lamps glowing just inside the panes. The aura of menace she had sensed before had faded now, leaving behind an old, somewhat neglected house built in a time when all things French had been admired and celebrated. Perhaps someday they would be again, and someone would properly restore the place to its former glory.

Had she managed to break the curse? Jennet would never know for sure, but she had the feeling that saving the man she loved and then letting him go would have earned the approval of even the most vengeful spirit. It was what they had not been able to do as the mistresses of Dredthorne Hall.

“Perhaps you should do the same,” she told the old house Hall before she started down the drive toward the road.

The walk to Reed Park on foot took most of an hour. Mrs. Holloway, who was waiting up in her nightdress and robe, unlocked the door and let her inside.

“Mrs. Reed took Barton’s horse and rode it to the parsonage,” the housekeeper told her, and related the details.

The thought of her terrified, panicking mother having the courage to go for help in the middle of the night made Jennet sigh. It also meant that as soon as Jeffrey returned home he would have to bring Margaret back to hers. The poor vicar wouldn’t get much sleep tonight.