My Lady, The Spy Page 19

  Simmering with frustration and anger, Rebecca glared at her future husband. “As you’ve been so good as to apprise me of your stance, my lord, allow me to make my position with equal clarity,” she spat. “I have sworn an oath to protect my country--an oath I do not take in jest. As previously discussed, I shall consider resigning the Corps once I have completed my final mission--as long as I can do so without threat to your person. You have my word, as a lady, and I intend to keep it. Be that as it may, know that I will do whatever is necessary to catch the traitor, even if it means putting myself and our future in harm’s way.”

  Dirk stood stock still, as though processing her declaration. Sensing a possible breach in his defense, she stomped his booted foot and gained her release.

  “That was a cheap shot,” he groused with a frown.

  “I doubt it left a mark.” Beyond his reach, she paused before the door, a hand on the knob, and half-turned to face him. “In any case, those are my terms. You will live with that, or you will not live with me.”

  #

  “When is the happy occasion?” Admiral Douglas rounded his desk and leaned against the edge. The Brethren of the Coast sat in a half-circle of high-back leather chairs.

  “Saturday next.” Dirk gazed at the mirror shine of his Hessians and tried not to think of his heated discussion with his bride-to-be. “An announcement will appear in tomorrow’s Times.”

  “That is awfully soon, brother mine. Are you sure about this?”

  Casting his sibling a look that would have withered many a man, Dirk could only frown at Dalton’s lopsided grin.

  “I am marrying her.”

  “And the lady is so inclined?” Blake canted his head. “She shares your enthusiasm?”

  “Of course.” Dirk braced for a lightning strike. “She wants what I want.”

  “What about her occupation? Will you allow her continued service to the Crown?” Trevor asked. “Were she my wife, I’d halt such endeavors, posthaste.”

  “Can’t believe she is a spy for the Corps.” Lance rested his chin in his hand. “Even harder to stomach the fact that you deceived us.”

  “He was under orders,” Damian, the voice of reason, explained.

  “I don’t see how she could expect to work once we are wed.” Somehow, though he hadn’t the foggiest notion how to obtain her resignation, he would persuade her to leave the Corps. “I plan to start a family as soon as possible.”

  “Doing so all by yourself?” The admiral smiled. “Or were you going to enlist Rebecca’s aid?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Dirk scoffed.

  “Do not take offense.” Admiral Douglas chuckled. “I merely suggest you consider speaking with your intended prior to the wedding. She may have other ideas for her future as your wife that do not include the immediate introduction of children. Contrary to popular male opinion, women have a mind of their own.” He rolled his eyes. “Especially our women.”

  “You can say that again,” Trevor added. “Something altogether unsettling happens when you put a ring on their finger.”

  “Aye.” Admiral Douglas compressed his lips. “And time does not improve their condition.”

  “Oh, I say.” Trevor downed a healthy gulp of brandy. “You just answered a question I had not yet summoned sufficient courage to pose, and I take issue with your response.”

  “Gentlemen, neither of you inspire confidence.”

  #

  Dirk’s own words revisited him in a mocking refrain when he entered the foyer of his home. After polite apologies for his rude behavior, he enjoyed dinner with his bride-to-be and anticipated a memorable night, but the lady had other plans. Soon, the truth of Admiral Douglas’s warning rang clear. Sitting in his study, enjoying the current conversation even less than their previous one, the singular observation undermined every argument he made with the beautiful but maddening spy.

  “The solution is simple.” Rebecca rested hands on hips. “We shall refrain from further sexual activity until such time as the traitor is apprehended.”

  “Bloody hell, you can’t be serious.”

  “Indeed I am.” She stood firm, her countenance one of insuperable determination. “I blame myself for such carelessness. I have been trained to prevent conception in the line of duty, and in my haste to share your bed I overlooked that one important detail. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

  Dirk could kick himself in the arse.

  “Rebecca, this is not about children, and you know it. The point of contention is your position as a spy and the fact that once our mission is finished, you will retire.”

  The expression on her face declared he had just grossly overstepped his bounds.

  “I will retire? And who decided my future for me? You? Lucien?” With shoulders squared, she gave vent to an unladylike groan. “I will not be dictated to by you or my brother. You have no right.”

  “I have every right.” In a valiant attempt at intimidation, he stood toe-to-toe with his unutterably stubborn woman, his nose mere inches from hers. “As your husband, your welfare is my responsibility. I will not have you skulking in dark corners, ferreting out villains. I will not allow you to continue your mock seductions. Do you truly believe that I shall sit idly, mothering our children, while you chase information to further the King’s war effort?”

  “No. I thought we would share the upbringing of our young. I understand you will be called upon to transport members of the Corps.” Her brow a mass of furrows, she tapped a finger to her chin in an impatient rhythm, and what little confidence he had went up in smoke. “Tell me, my lord, in what capacity do you serve His Majesty? You were commissioned to the Royal Navy, you still accept orders from the Crown, and yet you wear no uniform. You work in concert with the Corps, but you are not an agent.”

  The world teetered on edge, and Dirk feared he might swoon.

  “Perhaps you should have a seat.” He shuffled his feet and prayed for calm. “There is something I need to discuss with you.”

  “All right.” In high dudgeon, she claimed his desk chair and folded her arms before her, as if she were the Queen of England. “I’m listening.”

  “I am not what you think I am,” Dirk began. Spilling his secrets, one at a time, he revealed the existence of the notorious band of Nautionnier Knights known as the Brethren of the Coast. How their ancestors descended from the Templar mariners, the warriors of the Crusades.

  After King Philip the Fair of France conspired with Pope Clement V to ban the Templars, the mariners escaped persecution, torture, and certain death by fleeing to England. Granted asylum by Edward II, the Order of the Brethren of the Coast was formed to serve the King and his successors.

  In silence, Rebecca gazed at the solid gold badge of the ancient order. Fashioned in the shape of an eight-point wind-star, the compass of ancient seafarers, a large, blue diamond twinkled at the center, with the Latin phrase Nulli Secundus inscribed beneath.

  “Second to None?” Her brows rose in question.

  “Our motto,” Dirk explained. “Our way of life.”

  “To be the best?” She placed the noble insignia on his desk.

  “Aye.” He nodded once. “To give all in service to the Crown.” Wave upon wave of emotion crossed her lovely face. “Becca, what are you thinking?”

  “Hypocrite.” Without warning, she jumped to her feet, knocking the chair to the floor. “You are a knight of the Crown, and I am a spy. Where is the difference? We both take great risks in the war effort. How dare you insist I retire the Corps.”

  “Darling, it is not the same.” He leaned forward and rested his palms on the blotter. “It is my responsibility to protect and defend our family.” Gauging her demeanor, her incessantly tapping foot, and her compressed lips, Dirk realized he had erred again. He was in trouble--big trouble.

  “Is that so?” Her searing tone could melt butter. “And as your wife, just what do you expect of me?”

  In the interest of self-preservation, Dirk retrea
ted and strategized his next move. The spy with sad eyes was not likely to fall prey to heavy-handed tactics, so he considered his target and chose his words carefully.

  “My dearest Rebecca, I ask you to be my partner, the mother of our children, and the guardian of our home in my absence. As your husband, I commit myself to you, encompassing all sorrows and joys, all hardships and triumphs. It is a promise made in love, kept in faith, and lived in hope.”

  At that point, the angry secret agent yielded as the gently bred lady emerged, rounded the desk, and flew into his arms. “I am sorry we quarreled.”

  With a heavy sigh he held her close. “I have been waiting my whole life for you to step aboard my ship.”

  “Dirk, I know you are worried, but I swear I will be careful.” She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “As a knight of the realm, you must understand my obligation to the Crown.”

  Dirk frowned. “I do not want to, but I do.”

  “Then there will be no more arguments, and we will cease our physical relationship until we have captured the traitor.”

  “What about our wedding night?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “You are no stranger to sacrifice.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The sun shone brilliantly on a crisp, clear morning, heralding Rebecca’s wedding day. As she strolled down the grand staircase of the stately home, it dawned on her that when next she entered the residence, she would be its mistress.

  In the past, when she had dreamed of the momentous occasion, she imagined taking vows with no doubts or hesitation. Of course, her fanciful visions had never included a traitor and the Counterintelligence Corps. Nagging trepidation lingered, and she sighed. Would Dirk ever acknowledge that he was marrying L’araignee, as well as Lady Rebecca Wentworth?

  “Ready to face the enemy?” Dalton cast her lopsided grin.

  “I beg your pardon?” She blinked and almost tripped.

  “Not too late to run.” He snickered. “After all, my brother has the personality of a tabletop--a very dull tabletop, at that.”

  “You, sir, are incorrigible.”

  “And correct.” The younger Randolph clucked his tongue. “Or do you take issue with my assessment, dear sister-to-be?”

  “Indeed, I do.” Against her better judgment, she accepted his escort. “As I find your brother rather...stimulating.”

  “Stimulating?” Chuckling, he handed her over the threshold. “Are we discussing the same person?”

  “It might surprise you to discover that Dirk is infinitely fascinating.” With a giggle, Rebecca stepped into the carriage, eased to the bench, and checked the folds of her Alençon lace gown. In a flash, salacious images danced in her head. Lusty male grunts and groans filled her ears, strong hands skimmed her thighs, and then there was that naughty tongue--

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “What?” She snapped to attention.

  “His high and mighty of Wainsbrough has weighed anchor in your harbor.” Dalton shook his head. “And he hasn’t yet spoken the vows.”

  “Now see here.”

  “Oh, don’t bother denying it. If there is one thing I know, it is the look of a well-pleasured woman. The charming flush in your cheeks betrays you, my dear.”

  “If you breathe one word, so help me, I will not be responsible for my actions.”

  “Just what do you intend to do?” With hearty guffaws, Dalton grasped the edge of his seat and leaned forward. “Spank me?”

  “You, sir, are without shame.” Rebecca crossed her arms and humphed. “I am marrying your brother.”

  “And that matters?”

  “It does to me.”

  “Why?” He adjusted his cravat.

  “Because I love him,” she blurted before she realized what she had said. Silence fell heavy between them, as the carriage gently rocked. In that very moment, it dawned on her that she’d spoken the unvarnished truth. “You have my word as a lady, I love Dirk.”

  “I am happy to hear it.” All trace of levity vanished from his expression. “Because I do not want to see the old man hurt.”

  “You have my solemn promise, I would give my life for him.”

  “I believe you would.” Dalton pounded twice on the ceiling of the carriage and shouted, “To the church.”

  A few minutes later, they arrived in Hanover Square, where a small crowd gathered on the steps of St. George’s, and she waved to cheering children until she ventured beyond the Corinthian columns. Waiting just inside, Lucien stood tall in full military dress.

  “I was not sure you would make it.” She ran into his welcoming embrace.

  “Captain Collingwood kept his promise, but my leave is only for today.” To Dalton, Lucien said, “You had better hurry. Your brother will wear through the carpet if he paces much longer.”

  “On my way.” The younger Randolph clicked his heels and saluted. “Good luck.”

  Rebecca considered Lucien’s presence a harbinger of glad tidings, so she took her place at his side with no regrets, save one. “I wish mother and father were here.”

  “I would wager they do too, as do I. Shall we?” Lucien led her to the double-door entrance of the nave. Just then, the pipe organ signaled the start of the show. “They are playing your tune, sister.”

  The crowd rose to their feet as she walked the aisle. Before her, Dirk smiled, and she responded in kind, because, for the first time in years, she had hope. Hope for a future she had never planned, but a life filled with possibilities that she desperately wanted.

  With their hands clasped, her captain pledged, “From this day forward, my heart will be your shelter, and my arms will be your home.”

  With a surprisingly thorough kiss, Dirk sealed their union and left Rebecca’s senses reeling. When her new husband hugged her, she whispered, “My lord, I want you.”

  To wit he nuzzled her and responded, “My lady wife, at this moment, I could make love to you as fifty men.”

  “Then perhaps we should forgo our agreement, just for tonight.”

  “I like the way you think.”

  #

  Because their wedding was the first of the Season, the crème de la crème of the ton turned out in force for the reception. One by one, luxurious carriages, each bearing a coat of arms unique to its occupant, stopped at the entryway. Ere long, the ballroom at Randolph House filled to capacity.

  A sea of impressive gems shimmered in the sunlight filtering through the long windows. Elegantly dressed ladies wore gowns representing every color of the rainbow, while dapper dandies and ravishing rakes circled their feminine prey in a rousing game of cat and mouse.

  The Brethren dined, danced, cut the cake, and downed bottle after bottle of champagne. They toasted and roasted the handsome couple, all in good fun, of course. Soon, the various guests disappeared, leaving only the odd extended family Rebecca inherited with marriage to Dirk.

  “Bring on the brandy, cheap bastard.” Blake slapped her husband on the back. “It is time for the real celebration.”

  “The real celebration?” A flurry of activity commenced, as the Nautionnier Knights shuffled furniture in various directions. “Gentlemen, just what are you about?”

  “Patience is a virtue.” Lance resituated a chair.

  “And what happened to Dirk and Trevor?” Caroline rubbed the small of her back and sat on the sofa.

  “They were in the foyer,” Sabrina explained. “No doubt they will join us shortly.”

  “Join us for--what?” Rebecca could glean no hint as to what lay in store for her.

  “Your initiation.” Blake winked. “You do not faint at the sight of blood, do you?”

  “Has anyone seen the dagger,” Dalton chimed.

  “What?” Rebecca swallowed hard. “Am I to be skewered?”

  “Darling, he is joking.” Dirk slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her temple.

  “Indeed.” Trevor offered Caroline a glass of milk and said to Rebecca, “You are getting off easy. They made me walk the
plank.”

  “Given that you kidnapped my sister, you are no one to complain.” Blake glared at Trevor and snorted. “Be grateful you maintain the ability to father children.”

  “Now I resent that, Blake, really I do.”

  “Gentlemen, I believe it is all blood under the bridge. And tonight is about our new sister, not long-resolved injuries.” Damian held a worn, leather-bound book, bearing Latin script. “Gather round, everyone.”

  “Let us be done with it.” Lance swaggered near. “Because the happy couple has a marriage to consummate.”

  “Hear, hear.” Dalton tossed his lucky coin. “Tails. How appropriate, as it is high time my brother caught some--”

  “That is quite enough.” Dirk chucked his younger sibling’s shoulder.

  “Are they always like this?” Rebecca asked Caroline.

  “Worse,” the countess replied. “Especially when we are all present and accounted for.”

  “Are we ready?” Blake tugged at the lace trim of his sleeves and adjusted his cravat.

  Damian cleared his throat. “My brother knights and estimable sisters, we gather to welcome another member to our family, as we would not repeat the error we made with our most recent entrant.”

  Lance cast Trevor a side-glance and nudged him, and the Earl of Lockwood grinned. The unspoken regard and playful banter Rebecca found unutterably endearing, as it reminded her of Lucien, and she wished her own brother were in attendance. But Lucien had already returned to the Intrepid.

  “Gentlemen, settle down.” Damian rolled his eyes. “Where was I? Ah, yes. Love, honor, and devotion were the beginning of our Order. Bonds of kinship and friendship all-important. We uphold these principles embrace for embrace, desire for desire, for one, for all. For King and Country we stand, for love and comradeship we live.”

  “How lovely.” As happy tears beckoned, Rebecca smiled. “I do not know what to say.”

  “That is the ancient oath first pledged to our ancestors.” Damian closed the volume and clutched it to his chest. “It is the same we declared on a moonlit night as children, and a vow we now pledge to you.” He knelt before her, took her hand in his, and kissed her wedding band. “On my honor, I am at your service, my lady.”