“What about the other letter?” Daisy asked.
“That one’s for Gabriel. One of Prinny’s men will carry it to him.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Christ, everything’s happening so fast. I don’t know if he’ll reach the ship in time.”
“Rose can go to the palace, but give me that other note. I’ll saddle Brutus and intercept Gabriel before he sails. As I said, Amos will escort me.”
Graelem’s eyes rounded in horror. “Are you mad? Yes, of course you are. You’re a Farthingale. Even so, you can’t go.”
“He’s my husband and I have no intention of becoming his widow.” She wasn’t going to let Graelem win this battle. “As you said, there’s no time to lose. I’m the best rider and Brutus is the fastest horse. Come on, Graelem. We’re wasting precious time. Where is Gabriel and what shall I tell him?” Graelem had already sealed the letters.
“I must be mad. He’ll string me up by my... never mind. Oh, hell.” He grabbed her hand and clasped it in his. “He must not sail to Boulogne. Napoleon’s men know he’s coming and have been told the name of the ship. They’ll shoot him on sight. Probably blow up his ship as soon as it tucks into one of the nearby smugglers’ coves. He must find himself another vessel. The one we chartered is no longer safe.”
Despite his pain, Graelem smiled at her. “You never believed Gabriel was a coward, willing to abandon all to pursue his own pleasures while England stood on the precipice of war. You may as well know all of it now. You’re his wife, after all. Prinny sent him on a raiding mission to France. His orders are to slow Napoleon’s progress and give Wellington as much time as possible to muster our forces and coordinate with our Continental allies. It’s damn dangerous, but he’s been doing similar work for years and has managed to stay alive even under impossible conditions. I know my cousin well, and he won’t let anything get in the way of his coming home to you.”
She nodded, hoping Graelem truly did know him as well as he thought, but she couldn’t dwell on their hasty marriage or any regrets Gabriel might have over it. “What do Lord Malinor and his son stand to gain by harming Gabriel?”
“We were having difficulty outsmarting the French lately, and Gabriel was beginning to suspect that someone close to the Crown was betraying our plans. Lord Malinor is in Prinny’s inner circle. I have no doubt now that he and his son must have been feeding Napoleon’s agents sensitive information.”
Daisy’s mind was whirling in confusion. “Why would they do such a thing?”
Graelem sighed. “Arrogance. Desire for power. Who knows what Napoleon promised them? Likely control of England once we were conquered by the French.”
“Why did Auguste ask for my hand in marriage? How in heaven do I fit in with their diabolical plans?”
Graelem shrugged. “Perhaps he thought you knew more about Gabriel’s mission than you let on, or he was simply trying to rile Gabriel into making a mistake.” He grabbed Daisy’s hand before she took off to save her husband. “Once you deliver the warning, get back here before your family realizes you’re missing. Gabriel ought to be in Harwich by now. He’s to sail on a vessel called The Golden Fleece, set to leave for France shortly after first light.”
Laurel let out a scream and Graelem’s thoughts were no longer on his cousin. No matter, Daisy knew what she had to do. Find Gabriel. Hand him the note and tell him to wait in Harwich for further instructions. She made a quick calculation in her head and realized it would indeed be close, but Brutus would make it if they left immediately.
She ran to the guest quarters she’d taken over during her stay and hastily changed into the rough, homespun trousers and jacket she wore when taking Brutus for his morning run, allowing her to ride astride the beast. She braided her hair and tucked it securely under her cap before running to the stable. Rose would have roused the head groom by now and ordered him to saddle Brutus and a mount for Amos.
Although riding with Amos would slow her down, she knew it was too dangerous for her to ride alone. Indeed, she would have only the moonlight and an occasional torchlight to guide her path and couldn’t risk injuring Brutus over the uneven terrain. Once the first rays of sunlight peeked over the hills, she’d give Brutus free rein and let the stallion fly.
She took the snorting beast from the sleepy groomsman with a muttered thanks.
“Young Amos is saddling Defiance, a good horse, but nowhere near as fast as Brutus. I’ll help the lad out, if ye’ll excuse me, Miss Daisy.”