“No. Armand was still alive when we got back from Binic. Critically injured from the explosion, but he lasted long enough to tell me that the Lamballe gang had you. I thought you were their prisoner, but the stable boy explained that you had gone after them.”
She put her hand over her face and began to sob. “I waited for him to come out of the château. I thought he was already dead. How could I fail him like that? I should have stayed and tried to help.”
“There was nothing anyone could have done to save him. Your uncle was barely alive when I found him. He lasted only long enough to tell me that you had gone.”
He was about to make mention of what else Armand had said, but Jodoc marched through the door at that moment. The look on his face was one of great displeasure. Evangeline stepped away from Gus.
“What happened to your horse?” Jodoc’s question was directed at Evangeline, and she visibly flinched.
“He threw a shoe last night while I was on the road. As soon as I realized he had gone lame, I dismounted and walked.”
Jodoc tutted. “That horse has been ridden hard. There is dry sweat matted in his mane. Why would you do that to such a fine animal?”
Tears slowly snaked down her face, and Gus sensed she was barely holding her emotions under control. Whatever had transpired the previous evening had left her traumatized and frightened.
“How about I come and give Gobain a full rub down? I can then help you to replace the shoe,” offered Gus. He could appreciate Jodoc’s anger. Under normal circumstances, he too would take someone to task over mistreating an animal, but in this particular case his main concerns lay with Evangeline.
I need to know what happened to her after the explosion at the château.
Jodoc grumbled something under his breath, then headed for the door. “I’ll go and check to see what shoes I have in the stables. I take it from both Evangeline’s state and that of the horse, we can’t risk taking the horse to the local blacksmith.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
With their host gone, Gus pulled Evangeline back into his arms. He placed a reassuring kiss on her forehead. “It’s alright. You are safe. Now come, sit, and tell me what happened yesterday after you left the château. I spent the best part of the afternoon and early evening looking for you.”
Chapter Eighteen
Finding Gus at Jodoc’s home had come as quite a shock to Evangeline. She hadn’t expected to see him again, so had not put any thought into what she might say if she did.
She had pressed Gobain to gallop long past the point where she knew she should have pulled him up, but fear had driven her on. If one of Vincent’s men had caught up with her in the dark, there was every chance they would have shot her on sight.
Resuming her seat at the kitchen table, she studiously avoided Gus’s gaze as he pulled up a chair and sat next to her. The time would likely come when she would have to tell him of the events at Sainte-Anne; that time was not now. “How did you end up here?” she asked.
Sir Stephen Moore and George Hawkins were usually the ones to venture inland and deal with the local inhabitants, with Gus remaining either at the château or on his yacht. She hadn’t known that he even knew Jodoc.
Gus brushed his hand over hers. “I got lost looking for you. It was a complete piece of good fortune that I happened upon Jodoc on the road late yesterday. I thought he might be an associate of Marec’s and was ready to shoot him. That’s when he pulled out Stephen’s calling card.”
Jodoc had been working with her and Armand smuggling brandy and other goods across the channel to England for a number of years. He was one of only a handful of men she and her late uncle had ever fully trusted.
“You didn’t answer my question,” said Gus.
What am I going to tell him? He will think me mad.
“I chased after the Lamballe gang, but then I realized it was only me against all of them. It would be rash and stupid to go seeking revenge.”
Liar.
Gus gave an audible sigh of relief. “I am so glad you decided not to go after them. They didn’t destroy the château—Armand did.”
Evangeline froze. Had she heard right?
“He told me just before he died. Said he would rather blow it up than let Marec and his villains take it.”
A wave of nausea washed over her. Evangeline thought she might throw up. She had exacted fiery revenge when it had been Armand who had destroyed their home.
No. That cannot be true. If it is then . . . Oh dear.
Denial was her only refuge. The truth far too ugly to confront. “That doesn’t make sense. Vincent was the one who brought the lit torch into the house, not my uncle. Perhaps Armand was so badly injured that his mind was muddled. He was saying things that were clearly wrong,” she replied.
