Chapter 10
As far as foolish plans went, theirs was as foolish as it got. What else would you call luring a dangerous and murderous spy out of the shadows with an inexperienced lady as bait? The presence of four men hiding throughout the docks, who were not entirely inexperienced but not spies either (at least not confirmed ones) should have reassured Belle, but her hands still shook. And in the midst of this danger hovered the knowledge of what she was yet to face.
Edgar De Roux.
In the flesh.
At least now she was strong, more brave, more determined. Not at all the young insipid miss he’d tricked years ago. That is what Belle told herself as she stood shivering in the cold.
As matter of fact, she stood only a few feet away from where the mongrel had left her for dead. It had seemed fitting to set up a meeting here, classical even. On the other hand, she hated this place. The smell brought memories to the surface that she’d rather forget altogether.
It was too dark to see whether there was still a stain imprinted into the ground, but she doubted there was. Time had a way of eroding shallow surfaces, deeming the details insignificant. Meaningless. But then, why should the earth stay scarred from her horror when it was carved forever into her being?
Which brought to mind the men’s comical expressions when Belle confessed she may have remembered a way to get in touch with a spy that did not wish his whereabouts known. Their shocked faces still managed to make her lips twitch.
As it were, all she had to do was post an ad in the local paper, written in code, of course—exactly as Edgar had taught her how to do. It had seemed fun, adventurous even, back then. How naïve she’d been!
There always existed the distinct possibility that he would not react to her ad or even watch out for it, but Belle knew better. He’d be expecting it. Only, they weren’t the only players on the board this time. Somehow, she’d amassed valuable champions. Whether it was for the Crown or for her was irrelevant. She had guardians—something she did not have back then.
Of course, he may recognize this to be a trap. In fact, Belle had a terrible suspicion that he would. Why else meet him here, in such a secluded place, alone? She only hoped the four men were well hidden in their vantage points.
The plan, on the other hand, was quite simple. She would lure him out in the open. One of the men would take him out. In fact, there wasn’t much to the plan other than that. Lure him out, take him out. The end. Belle did not much care for that plan. They could just as well miss him and hit her.
Faith, Belle. Have a little faith.
She once again glanced at the spot where she’d lain in unspeakable pain. That was about all she recalled from that night—the pain. Not even her cousins knew about what happened. Not even her brothers. And while she remained saddened by their abandonment, she did not hold it against them.
The soft thud of footsteps hitting the ground alerted her to someone approaching.
Her spine stiffened. Swiveling her head to the left, Belle’s breath caught as she watched Edgar emerge from the darkness like an avenging angel.
Fear clogged her throat.
Did he have to be so beautiful? No murderous spy should look so good while being so bad.
Where was James?
Why did he not act?
Did they wish for the despicable man to throw her over his shoulder before they intervened?
A low, soft chuckle reached her ears and memories assailed her at the sound. His lips pressing against hers. Promises of love. Anger. Pain. Betrayal.
He halted a few feet away, his eyes roaming over her with malice and something else. He took in the slight twitch of her hand, her rigid stance and the determined set of her jaw. This was a man she’d thought she loved once. Now, only a scar remained, forever reminding her of him.
She returned his stare, her eyes noting his calm demeanor, casual stance and the triumphant glint in his eyes. He seemed unconcerned that this might be a trap.
Their eyes locked.
“I’m surprisedma belle, that you would choose this particular spot to meet.”
She cringed at the endearment.
My beauty.
“It seemed fitting, do you not agree?”
And you could never resist coming back to this spot.
