Inès swallowed the sour taste in her mouth, for she’d had personal dealings with the dreaded Vaillancourt.
“I know,” Gus said with sympathy. “I see your memories, dearest. Trust me, they fade with time and peace. You will have both here. I promise you.”
Inès managed a smile, painful as it was. Her dear friend whom she had known since youth had joined with their other mutual friend, Amber, now Viscountess Ramsey, to bring her out of France. They had worked to get her out as her friend only—not as an agent. Inès knew that Gus knew she had worked for Amber as a direct report in Paris. She had helped Gus one day there, carrying a message to a prearranged meeting point. But that was all. Inès would not tell her more. Amber would not tell Gus more. And Gus would not ask for more. It was a rule that such information about each agent’s individual hierarchy was not to be shared among those in Scarlett Hawthorne’s network. However, it was common knowledge here in London and in Paris that Amber had tried to elude the evil machinations of Vaillancourt, and that she had succeeded only when the man sheloved more than life itself carried her from Vaillancourt’s house, never to return.
Inès felt an affinity in that for Amber. For Gus, too, Inès was sympathetic because Gus had been seized by Vaillancourt along with Kane. Both had escaped his wrath, fortunately.
Inès had been fortunate when she needed to escape Boulogne. She’d sent word up the chain of her command, all agents who had been recruited by and worked for Ashley, his team, and his supervisor, a woman in the City, Scarlett Hawthorne. That lady was a rich merchant, who had inherited her family’s export-import business years ago. With her contacts throughout the Continent, Miss Hawthorne ruled an espionage network that even the London government envied.
Inès had worked directly for Amber for many years. After Amber had left Paris with her new husband, Ramsey, Inès had continued in various roles for the past three. Now, here in England, she had a new venture.
She caught a breath and clutched her hands together. If she were to succeed here, she would have to stop catching herself, mid-terror.
She gazed at Gus with a sigh. “Forgive me. I do not know how to live without fear. France is such a dictatorship. Fear is a part of everyone’s life there.” Watching every person for the smallest move, the tiniest mistake that could herald her end, was a dastardly way to live. But she had. All for a good cause. Agreatcause. One she had triumphed at. She smiled to herself and killed the joy so that Gus would not think her daft.
Gus reached over and squeezed her hand. “Time, good people, and laughter are the means.” She tipped her head, a grin upon her lips. “Now that you are here, I know you will want a quiet life.”
Inès searched her friend’s large green eyes. Gus could not know what she’d been doing these past few years. Only herreport knew that. And he would never tell. Not even when her world had crashed around her and she’d had to leave Boulogne or die.
“Quiet, yes. A house of my own. A small staff so that I can host luncheons and little garden parties.”
“Perhaps a man to call your own? One with whom you can share—”
“I don’t want a man,” she said with too much haste and a bit of a lie. She’d take the man in her garden…and get her red garter ribbon back. But no. Instinct told her she might not be able to handle him. He was too assertive, too charismatic, and yes, truly, she’d had enough of male arrogance in Boulogne from military officers and in Paris from Vaillancourt. She would need a man hopefully as no more than a friend, but he would be special. Useful. “No, no, Gus. I want to be prudent, wise. What’s more, I have enough money to live on my own. I would like to pace myself, make my reputation as a Society maven.”
“I apologize, Inès. I rush you. I don’t mean to overlook what you want.”
“I know you don’t, Gus. I just need to find my own way.” She blew out a breath, her thoughts of her man in the garden alive in her mind. “I must readDebrett’s, learn all these titles and means of address. It’s frustrating, embarrassing, really, not to be able to talk to people without their names.”
Gus laughed. “I know exactly what you mean. I was the same way when Kane and I arrived. But he was my helper. I will be that for you. Did that happen tonight? Did you speak with someone whose title you did not know?”
“A tall gentleman with dark-brown hair and stunning purple eyes.”
Gus shook her head and laughed. “I’m afraid I know only my husband’s eye color. Where did you talk with him?”
“Oh, in the Carlisles’ garden.” Inès lifted her skirts to reveal bare legs, her slippers on. “I was free of so much, including my stockings, which are now somewhere in Giselle’s garden. No one else came upon us. I escaped for a respite. I imagine he did too. We conversed, and he insisted I attend his family’s ball next Friday.”
“Oh, that is Halsey. A striking fellow. An earl, so he is properly Lord Halsey. Simply Halsey to most. Evan to his friends.”
“Have you accepted his invitation for his ball?”Must I be in his presence and further lured by him? Mon Dieu, I pray not.
“Yes, for all of us. You too. I hope you don’t mind. It is the way here, with houseguests, for all in the house to attend whatever function they are invited to. Was he rude? If he was—”
“No, no. Not rude. Assertive.”
“Ah. I see your problem.”
That was what Halsey said.“Am I so transparent?”
“Of course not, Inès. But I know you and what you’ve been through.”
“Not all of it,” she countered, her hands twisting the wool of her pelisse.
“For good reason, and I do not want for you to break rules by telling me. But I do know that Vaillancourt threatened you.”
Had his men seize me and threaten to throw me into Chateau Pierrefonds’s oubliette.“I had to leave France.”
Gus reached over and squeezed both her hands. “You did. Whatever that man said or did to you, we understand why you told your runner you had to escape. But you are here now and safe.”
