If he returns.
Oh, mercy! That explained their looks of pity. Neither of them believed Gabriel would survive.
***
Gabriel and Ian spurred their horses to a gallop as they approached the White Stag Inn shortly after midnight, eager to be out of the unrelenting cold that was accompanied by a driving rain. The inn, located inland about a day’s ride north of London, was on the well-traveled road between Luton and Peterborough. Gabriel had taken the detour north as a precaution, on the chance they had been followed. At daybreak, they would continue north, then swing sharply eastward and ride hard toward the seaport of Harwich, where he was to board a ship waiting to sail him to France.
Two lanterns burned brightly above the inn’s entrance, a welcoming beacon in the night. The proprietor, familiar with Ian, heard their approach and rushed out to greet the riders. “Come in, Yer Grace! And yer friend be most welcome!” he said, smiling at Gabriel. “Leave yer horses in me son’s capable hands. He’ll take excellent care of them fine beasts. Ye must be hungry and thirsty. Will ye be wanting... er, the usual female attentions?”
“No,” Gabriel said, receiving a surprised look from Ian. “That is, not for me. His Grace will speak for himself.”
Ian shot him a questioning glance and nodded thoughtfully, seeming to understand this was not the time to tease him about Daisy. Their jovial banter would be saved for the next society ball, if he lived to attend another ball. To his surprise, Ian also refused the offer of a girl to warm his bed.
“What do you think?” Ian asked later, once they had finished their meal of smoked quail and roasted potatoes, and washed it down with some excellent dark ale. “Did you notice anyone behind us?”
“No. Seems our plan is on course.” He quickly scanned the common room, giving it a final look, but no one had come in after them and the travelers already present seemed harmless enough.
“Then it’s off to Harwich in the morning.” Ian glanced at one of the pretty serving maids and sighed. “Too bad I’ve decided to follow your example and become a monk. She would have given me a soft ride tonight to take the edge off the hard ride awaiting us in the morning.”
Realizing the duke would not ask for her, the girl went off with another traveler, giggling as the gentleman tossed her a shiny coin and led her upstairs.
Gabriel poured himself another ale and one for Ian. The two of them sat in companionable silence watching the fire flicker in the hearth and listening to the rain fall on the thatch roof in muffled splatters. Wind howled in the distance, but the inn was well built and protected against unwanted drafts.
“Well, are you going to say something or must I?” Ian asked, finally breaking the silence. “Go ahead. We’re alone now. Everyone, including the proprietor, has retired for the evening.”
Gabriel glanced around. In truth, he’d been too lost in thoughts of Daisy to notice.
“Get it out of your system before you sail, Gabriel. I don’t want that seething anger of yours to jeopardize the mission. Once you’re in France, your only goal, your only concern, must be to destroy the French supply lines. Shall I help you along?” He shifted in his chair and leaned forward. “Old Malinor’s a bastard.”
Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “We’ve known that all along. He’s always been a bastard.”
“So’s his son.”
“He’s even worse than the father.” Gabriel gripped his mug of ale so tightly the handle threatened to break. “The conniving whelp, what does he want with Daisy? He doesn’t love her.” He slammed his fist on the table. “He can’t love her.”
“It doesn’t matter. She refused him, married you instead. Hell, I still can’t believe it. You, married. I suppose our sacred pact is shot to pieces.”
“No broken hearts, no grieving widows,” Gabriel said quietly. “That’s the worst part of this assignment, knowing I’ll soon make her a widow.” He didn’t bother to hide the pain in his eyes as he met Ian’s gaze. “I’ll need you and Graelem to look after Daisy for me. I don’t trust those Malinors. Auguste wants something from her, or wants to hurt me... or her... or both of us. Hell. She’ll be vulnerable. He’ll try to use it to his advantage.”
Ian shook his head. “I wouldn’t worry about Daisy. The little baggage has such faith in you, such love for you. She’ll cut him to ribbons if he tries anything.”
It was quite something that she loved him, felt so good to have her stand by him even as false rumors of his character spread. He’d felt empty for so long, he’d forgotten that feelings such as pride, happiness, or respect still existed. “She is something special,” he said with a light grin, “even if she did almost destroy our mission.”