To Catch A Fallen Spy (Brethren of the Coast Book 8) Page 3

  In vain, Ross sought a rejoinder, something resolute to make his position clear, but logic and reasoning failed him. So delicate in her gown of soft blue, which complimented her ivory flesh, an exemplar of indefinable perfection, like a porcelain doll, with her thick gold curls piled high atop her head, he ached to lock Elaine away so no one could ever hurt her.

  “Sir, is there something you need to tell me about this assignment?” Miles asked, shock investing his usually placid countenance.

  “No, there is not.” Glancing at Elaine, Ross pinned her with his stare and shook his head, even as he lied. “Guard Lady Elaine, as I ordered, and I will supervise the investigation of Harris’s murder.”

  “Ah, it is worse than I expected, yet I am not surprised, as Brethren women strike a lethal blow when they fix their sights on an unwitting target.” With a mischievous grin, Jason adjusted Ross’s cravat and then chucked his shoulder. “Then again, I am not so sure you are unwitting.” With a mock salute, Collingwood clicked his heels. “But I am for my cozy home, my delectable wife, and my adorable sons and daughter, all of which I owe to my bride, and thus I take my leave.”

  Absent the comedic captain, tension built in the study, stifling any hope for reprieve or escape, and Ross realized he needed to confront the marquess, to eliminate any doubt, regarding a relationship with Elaine. “Raynesford, you have my word as a knight in His Majesty’s service, there is nothing between your cousin and I.”

  “And have I your promise that you will not enact any such enterprise?” Lance queried with palpable skepticism.

  The blatant challenge to Ross’s honor stung like a bee, but he held his tongue and his temper, as he locked eyes with Elaine and fought the urge to console her. Instead, he dipped his chin. “Know that you have it.”

  With that, Ross strode from the room, without so much as a polite farewell to Elaine.

  to catch a fallen spy

  chapter two

  Lingering on the landing, Elaine spied on Agent Barrett, as he sat in the foyer, oblivious to the fact that he frustrated her grand plans. With brown hair, blue eyes, and chiseled cheekbones, the spy manifested a striking opponent, and under different circumstances she might have considered him a friend. But the uninformed guard had no idea of the obstacle he presented, and while she detested causing him embarrassment, she had to depart without his knowledge.

  So she tiptoed through the gallery, hugging the walls like a thief in the night, and stole along the maze of hallways, dodging and darting to evade interloping servants, until she reached the back stairs. A quick jaunt across the morning room brought her to the terrace doors, and she fled the house via the gardens.

  A carriage would have garnered too much attention, so she skipped through the mews and into the alley. Fearing Sir Ross may have posted additional men at the front of the residence, she ran in the opposite direction, to N. Audley Street, to make good her escape. Just as she reached the sidewalk, a large figure emerged from the shadows.

  “I knew I could not surrender you into Barrett’s custody.” With arms folded and a stern expression, Sir Ross blocked her path. “Lady Elaine, you know very well you cannot venture forth without an escort.”

  “What do you care?” Not for a minute would she yield, as she mirrored his stance. “Am I under arrest? Have I committed a crime?” She tapped her foot in an impatient rhythm. “No? Then get out of my way.”

  In a flash, she ducked, sidestepped the estimable male specimen, and smiled as he gave vent to a string of invective in her wake.

  “I forbid you to traipse about town sans chaperone.” In his haste, he tripped on the uneven pavement. “Elaine, you will stop this instant.”

  “It is Lady Elaine to you, sir. Fret not, however, as I do not traipse.” Of course, in light of his demand, she only picked up her pace. “And you should be grateful I deign to acknowledge your presence, after you humiliated me last night, or did you forget? ‘Raynesford, you have my word as a knight in His Majesty’s service, there is nothing between your cousin and I.’ Trust me, I will not soon fail to recall your lie, and it was a falsehood.”

  “I am sorry about that, but it was necessary.” To her surprise, Ross caught her by the elbow and drew her to a halt. “Why did Lance believe I made an offer for your hand?”

  “Because I told him I would marry you, if you would have me.” No, she neither flinched nor cowered in the face of her embarrassment, given his rejection. “But you assured my cousin that you want me not, in no unmistakable terms, and I heard you. Now let me assure you, Sir Ross, that never again will I encroach upon your delicate, male sensibilities.”

  Wrenching free, she rushed into the intersection, just missing a traveling coach. In public, she enjoyed a measure of security, as her pursuer would not risk garnering attention, so she trod forth with relentless determination. As she turned left onto Park Lane, she moved faster, but Ross appeared at her side, just as she knew he would.

  “Please, Elaine, I never meant to hurt you.” At his admission, she remained stoic, but on the inside she screamed. “While I am deeply honored you would consider me a fit candidate for a husband, I could never meet your expectations, and I would not jeopardize our friendship for anything in the world.”

  “Is that what we are—friends?” Did he really think he could fool her with such nonsense? “We waltzed in the twilight in the Chatham’s orangery, from the balcony at Almack’s we spied on the Richmonds during the Season, and I have spent the better part of my social circuit in your company, unreservedly, loitering in various dark spaces no young lady of character would inhabit. Perhaps that was nothing to you, but it was something to me.”

  “Nothing can come of it, and I should have put a stop to such inappropriate behavior a long time ago, but I treasure your companionship.” At the entrance stairs of the elegant mansion belonging to the earl and countess of Woverton, Ross skipped ahead of her to knock on the door. “I am sorry if I caused you any pain, as I would sooner severe an arm or a leg than injure you. But I am damaged in ways you cannot begin to imagine, and I would never burden you with my curse.”

  Harkening a comparison with Lance’s brandy, Ross’s amber gaze beckoned and tugged at her heart, and she longed to touch him, but she would delay. And while a query danced at the tip of her tongue, she feigned disinterest in his ominous warning.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Elaine and Sir Ross.” Ware bowed. “Do come inside.”

  “Hello, Ware.” She doffed her scarf, gloves, and hat. “Are the ladies assembled for their customary tea and scones?”

  “Indeed, they are gathered in the back parlor.” The always-proper butler smiled. “Permit me to announce your arrival.” Ware paused. “And is his lordship expecting you, Sir Ross?”

  “Sir Ross is with me, as he would act as my keeper, despite my objection.” Elaine lifted her chin in a show of defiance. “He may wait here, if he must, while I visit my sisters.”

  “But I should search the premises, Lady Elaine.” Ross frowned.

  “Do you anticipate a villain lurking under their skirts?” She humphed. “I will not have you frightening my family, and I refuse to have my life dictated to me by a criminal, so you will defer to my wishes, else I will have you removed.” And then Elaine strolled into the hall, sparing nary a backward glance at her would-be husband. Yet, beneath the bravado, she suffered as she had never suffered. The cold, gnawing grip of despair clutched her by the throat, and she fought encroaching tears, but she vowed not to cry.

  In the posh but welcoming chamber, the Brethren wives lounged, trading gossip as they sipped tea and nibbled on various sweets. The shock investing their collective countenances inspired a giggle of nervous agitation, and Elaine rubbed the back of her neck, as Ware exited.

  “Elaine?” Cara stood “What are you doing here? And is Agent Barrett with you?”

  “Am I not permitted to join your daily ritual?” A plush ottoman offered an excellent perch, and she pushed it close to the table. “As for Agent Barre
tt, he remains at Raynesford house, to my knowledge.”

  “But you cannot wander about, alone, as it is dangerous.” Rebecca sat upright. “Cara was just telling us of the developments that occurred after the ball, and I am so sorry.”

  “Then you know Lance forbade me from making future overtures to Sir Ross, as my cousin refuses to consider what I want.” The horrible disagreement flooded her memory, and Elaine swallowed hard. “Thus I am not to see Ross, in any capacity.”

  “My dear, it may seem difficult to understand, at present, but it is for the best.” Shifting, Rebecca wiped her brow. “Ross struggles with a dark history, which he has hinted at but never divulged. Yet I suspect he harbors terrible secrets, the sum of which may have destroyed any possibility for a normal life. Such is the risk associated with a career in espionage, as I know too well.”

  “And yet you recovered with Dirk’s love,” Elaine asserted.

  “May I offer you a refreshment?” Sabrina smiled and scooted to the edge of the chaise. “Cook made lemon tarts.”

  “No, thank you.” Toying with the lace edge of her sleeve, Elaine peered at Caroline, Alex, Lenore, and Daphne. “Sisters, since Caroline returned to our shores with Trevor, in tow, we have strategized to bring our men to the altar, and now I require your assistance.”

  “So you are serious in your quest to win Sir Ross?” Rebecca inclined her head. “We cannot persuade you otherwise?”

  “Most assuredly not.” A wave of emotions comprised of equal parts of fear, uncertainty, and overwhelming excitement threatened to swamp her campaign, just when she threw down the gauntlet and enlisted her most skilled allies. “Sisters, I want to know what it is like to be so tired in the morning, after a night of unbridled passion, that I cannot rise to break my fast with the family.” A great ripple and stir commenced, as the brides fidgeted in unison. “I want to sneak away from the crowd in the ton’s fashionable homes and make love in their libraries, studies, and orangeries.”

  Sabrina gasped. “Upon my word.”

  “You were paying attention.” Averting her stare, Caroline pressed a hand to her throat. “And Trevor harbors a particular fondness for orangeries, which predates our nuptials.”

  “And I do not believe, for one instant, that Blake stumbled on the carpets in the Howard’s morning room, when he knocked over the pedestal and broke that Ming vase, as Her Grace’s coif was decidedly mussed, and the back of her gown was noticeably wrinkled, thereafter,” Elaine said to Lenore, who blushed. “Then there was our Christmas celebration on Portsea Island, where I was exhausted after several sleepless hours, given the surfeit of exclamations coming from the chamber across the hall. And how was it?” She tapped her chin. “Ah, I recall it well. ‘Oh, Jason. Oh, captain of my heart. Take me. Spank me, again. Yes, yes, yes.’ At one point, I removed to the daybed in the children’s playroom to get some rest, but a symphony of another sort drove me from there, too. ‘Harder, Dalton, my love. Faster. Promise you will never stop.’ Daphne’s shouts of euphoria mingled with a horrid pounding on the wall, and I swear the ruckus gave me megrims.”

  “My apologies.” Alex sniffed, as a chorus of giggles erupted. “But everyone knows my husband possesses a most lusty appetite, and I love him for it.”

  “As hostess, you have my sincerest regrets.” With a countenance of shock, Daphne blinked. “When next we convene at Courtenay Hall, I shall check that you are placed in more tranquil accommodations to ensure privacy for all parties.”

  “But you misunderstand.” Elaine took a moment to address each of her friends. “Mine are not the complaints of a disgruntled or incidental spectator. Rather, I make observations, which I envy. Do you not see, I want that same fiery, unpredictable relationship with Ross?”

  “So I comprehend.” Clasping her hands in her lap, Rebecca compressed her lips. “And while none of us would refuse your request for reinforcement, our quarry must exhibit some interest for any endeavor to prove successful.”

  “Which is why I had been prepared to cede the fight before it ever commenced, last night, given Ross’s rejection. In fact, that is what led me to seek your counsel.” To Elaine’s chagrin, his repudiation still stung. “But my aspirations changed when he confronted me in the alley and insisted on escorting me, today.”

  “What?” Cara flinched. “But Lance said you were not to—”

  “Wait just a minute.” Rebecca stood. “Ross is here?”

  “Indeed.” Elaine nodded. “He sits in the foyer, doing his best to convince me of his indifference.”

  “Shh.” The former spy held up a finger. With the grace and stealth of a veteran agent provocateur, Rebecca slipped into the passage. In minutes, she returned and closed the door. “Oh, my pretty friends, Elaine is right.”

  “What should we do?” inquired Cara. “As Lance issued an edict, in no debatable terms, that I am not allowed to entertain any notions of pairing Elaine with Sir Ross. And neither am I to provide any support in said endeavors.”

  “So you will honor his commands.” With a smirk, Rebecca lifted her chin. “Cara shall distract her husband, as would any dutiful wife, while the rest of us circle our prey.”

  “And I shall enact a battle to end all battles, as I will win my reluctant knight.” For the first time in her life, Elaine enjoyed a taste of the power her brash relations wielded with regularity, and she coveted precious hope. The unknown loomed on the horizon, but her odds had just improved, thus she waved her fist in the air. “I wish to define myself, as opposed to permitting society to do it for me. So Brethren wives rally.”

  #

  The second hand of the double-faced calendar watch, which belonged to his father, marked the passage of time, as Ross studied the colorful enamel pastoral and the elegant repoussé case embedded with seed pearls. With the matching gold key, he wound the clock spring to maintain accuracy of the treasured keepsake. The gentle, repetitive tick of the mechanism always offered comfort as he often focused on the rhythm during moments of crisis. But naught soothed his unrest as he re-pocketed the heirloom, stood, rounded his desk, and strolled to the window.

  The streets of London teemed with various equipages rushing in all directions, as citizens went about their business, oblivious to the criminals lurking in the shadows just waiting to pounce when opportunity struck. It was the unknown that kept him awake, wondering when Elaine might next confront danger, and he struggled with the urge to lock her away, where he could protect her.

  “I beg your pardon, Sir Ross.” Winston, Ross’s secretary, cleared his throat. “You have an unscheduled visitor.”

  “Who is it?” Ross turned and peered over his shoulder, just as Lance Prescott shoved aside Winston. “Never mind.” He braced for the confrontation. “Please, close the door.”

  “Yes, sir.” The secretary cast a wary glance at the obviously angry noble and exited.

  “Lord Raynesford, to what do I owe the honor of your company?” Ross remained collected, as if he did not comprehend what brought the marquess to the offices of the Counterintelligence Corps.

  “Dispense with the pleasantries and the innocent act, Ross.” Adopting an aggressive stance, Lance folded his arms. “You know precisely what brings me here, thus I need not waste my breath explaining myself.”

  “What would you have me do?” How could Lance be so blind? Did he not see the connection Ross shared with Elaine? “Your cousin is a strong, willful woman, and she is adept at hiding in plain sight. Despite our attempts to guard her, I suspected she would evade Agent Barrett at the first opportunity, and I was right.”

  “So you lied when you gave me your word you would not pursue Elaine.” To Ross’s surprise, Lance bared his teeth. “Honor demands I call you out, and nothing would give me greater satisfaction than an appointment at dawn, on Paddington Green.”

  “What stops you?” The last thing Ross wanted was to duel Elaine’s relation, but apparently Lance opted to ignore the gravity of the situation. “As I am more than willing to accommodate you, i
f necessary, given I will do anything to protect Lady Elaine.”

  “Do not tempt me, Ross, as even I have limits.” Lance shook his head. “But it would destroy Elaine, and my wife would never forgive me.”

  “Presuming you survive the encounter.” No, Ross could not resist baiting the estimable marquess. “So where does that leave us?”

  “Trying to form a compromise.” The aristocrat arched a brow. “One that positions you far from my charge, as I will not have you put her at greater risk.”

  “Believe me, I would never hurt her.” The mere thought of the petite woman in distress inspired intense rage. “Not that I am interested, but for the sake of clarity in our negotiations, why do you consider me a threat to Lady Elaine?”

  “Rebecca.”

  In the blink of an eye, Ross journeyed to the past, to a seaside estate along the coast of Portsmouth. A nude body, bearing the ugly marks of torture and a vicious manacle fastened about the neck, attached to a heavy chain and anchored by an iron pike, listed in the incoming tide.

  “That was a low blow.” Ross shook free from the morbid reverie. “Might I point out that Lady Elaine is no spy, and I would go to my grave before I let Waddlington near her.”

  “Do you really think that matters?” With a sigh, Lance speared his fingers through his hair and stomped to the window. “Varringdale knew not of Rebecca’s alternate persona, L’araignee, by which she served the Crown, yet he kidnapped, abused, and all but executed her. To this day, the horrors she endured haunt me, as I can never erase from my mind the shameful condition in which we found her. Can you imagine Elaine thus treated, given her gentle disposition?”