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Authors: Jo Goodman

Let Me Be The One (53 page)

BOOK: Let Me Be The One
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North remained stoic, his cobalt blue eyes flat and unrevealing. "May I call upon you tomorrow?" he asked. "You will allow there is a great deal to comprehend here."

Battenburn's assent was gracious. "Certainly. I hope you will understand that if there had been a less dramatic way to present you with these facts, Lady Battenburn and I would have done so. We could not know how willing you would be to hear us out. It seemed offering you the evidence was our best hope." He made a slight bow, his features set just shy of sympathetic. "I am sorry, Northam." Sparing no glance for Elizabeth, the baron took his leave.

Muted strains of music and distant laughter could briefly be heard when Battenburn opened the door to the hallway. When he closed it behind him, there was only silence.

Elizabeth looked at North. He returned her gaze. Neither of them spoke, afraid that even a whisper would give them away. Elizabeth's ivory satin gown rustled softly as she gave in to the need to sit down. North pressed four fingers to his brow and massaged it, the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes.

"We will bid our host good evening," North said finally.

Elizabeth nodded. She wanted to be away from this place also. "Allow me a moment to compose myself." A small apologetic smile surfaced. "I am afraid I shall be sick."

* * *

Inside the carriage, Elizabeth removed her turban and shook out her hair. She idly fingered the jeweled brooch that held the ostrich plume in place. The tip of the feather tickled her chin as North stepped inside and the door was closed firmly in his wake. He sat beside her, his caped greatcoat brushing her shoulders.

The carriage rolled forward, setting them both back against the soft leather cushions. Tossing his hat onto the opposite seat, North turned a little toward Elizabeth. Her dark lashes created a pale shadow just below her eyes. She appeared to be studying the brooch under her fingers, but North doubted her thoughts had moved beyond the encounter with Battenburn.

He lifted the feathered turban from between her hands and let it fall beside his hat. Cupping the curve of Elizabeth's cheek as she raised her face, North lowered his head. His lips touched hers, lightly at first, then a second time that lingered with more heat. When he broke the kiss, he did not draw back. "You cannot know how much I wished you elsewhere this evening," he said. "If there had been any other way..."

"I know." Her lips brushed his. "I was never afraid of him. Only that you might come to believe him." She searched North's features for some sign that that was true. "I could almost believe him myself."

"He was very convincing." North touched his forehead to Elizabeth's. "But then, so were you." Seeing Elizabeth's confusion, he chuckled. "It's difficult to know whether to be flattered, isn't it? But I did mean it that way. You were splendid." He leaned back and took one of her gloved hands in his, lacing his fingers in hers. "You are splendid."

She flushed, averting her eyes from his darkening ones. "We still do not know that it's worked."

North wondered how he would ever reconcile this vision of a shy and reticent Elizabeth with the woman who had once stared at him so boldly and called herself a whore. He would plant an apple orchard at Hampton Cross, he thought, and practice contemplation under every one of those trees. If he were no closer to understanding her at the end of his life than he was now, it would still have been a worthy pursuit.

"North?" She glanced at him, frowning. "Did you not hear me? We still do not know if it worked."

He swallowed his smile. "We will know soon enough. I am assuming that you found no documents among the jewelry cases."

"None. You are certain they were placed there?"

"The colonel gave the task to West. He has never not done what was expected of him. The jewelry was there as he promised it would be."

She nodded. "How is it that West was able to engage the ambassador's assistance?"

"I believe it was the colonel who applied the pressure. The ambassador has his reasons for not wanting to appear uncooperative. West's part in it was to make certain there was no detail left unattended. Since you found nothing except the jewelry we can safely assume Battenburn had already lifted the documents before you arrived."

"He was not in the library when I got there, North, yet he was there when you came in. When could he have done it? And where did he come from? I heard no one enter until you did. East was in the gallery with Lady Sophia and would not have let the baron pass without a warning to me. If he came from the hallway as you did, why didn't I know it?"

"Because he didn't enter that way," North said."At least not immediately before I did. I would say that he actually entered the room a little earlier in the evening, took the documents, and waited in the ambassador's very private library until you let him out."

"Let him out? But I—" She stopped because it suddenly became clear. "Oh. How clever of him. When I sprung the shelves from my side he slipped out after I went in. Do you know, I thought I heard something just as I was opening that door, but it did not occur to me to look inside for the source of the sound." She sighed. "How annoying. Then he was standing there in front of us with all those stolen documents on his person and neither one of us could be certain of the fact of it."

North shrugged. He had considered much the same thing. "It would have been a risk to confront him. He might have hidden them again. They might have been anywhere in the library. It is better to wait and see what he does with the information. I cannot imagine we shall have to wait long."

Elizabeth's relief was evident. "I am glad for that. I do not think I should be very good at waiting, North."

Now that the trap had been laid, North knew his own patience would be tested. "One of the things I learned in the army is that it helps to keep oneself occupied."

Elizabeth's eyes expressed her doubts, but she offered gamely, "I have started a new embroidery piece."

"Very industrious. I used to polish my buttons and my boots."

"You have Brill to do that for you now."

"I had Brill to do it for me then. There were times, though, when it was a thing better done myself." He rubbed his chin with his knuckles while he regarded her."It seems that at present we should engage in something that will occupy us both."

"Cards?"

One of North's brows lifted. "You are carrying cards?"

"Now? Well, no. But when we arrive home we can play a few hands of whist. It is a certainty I shall not be able to sleep."

North looked for some sign that Elizabeth was not in earnest and could find none. "Perhaps I am not being clear. The activity should offer mutual pleasure."

"I thought you enjoyed whist."

"Elizabeth."

She blinked up at him, her smile perfectly innocent.

North shook his head. "You cannot be so obtuse."

"I assure you I can, though it pains me to say so."

He leaned toward her so that his lips brushed her ear. She had a more difficult time pretending she wasn't moved when his warm breath ruffled a silky tendril of hair. North whispered his intentions in no uncertain terms.

Elizabeth's eyes widened a fraction. "You can do that?"

"I am hoping you will help me."

Her expression was doubtful, though she had to work to keep it that way. "Are you certain you would not rather play cards?"

In response, North simply hauled her into his arms. "You delight in giving me the very devil of a time. No, I do not care to hear your opinion. Kiss me, Elizabeth."

She did. Her arms slipped around his neck and she laid her mouth across his, nudging his lips open with one sweet pass of her tongue. She swallowed the soft groan he could not quite hold back. Her fingers threaded in his sunshine hair. She tugged on the ends and felt him shiver in her embrace. "Was that a frisson?" she whispered against his mouth.

North drew back and let her see his smile.

Elizabeth's delicious shiver was not entirely feigned. "Ah. All that from a mere smile. Can you teach me?"

"Not bloody likely. It must be used responsibly."

Laughing, she launched herself onto his lap and kissed him again. He unbuttoned her pelisse while she opened his greatcoat. Their mouths locked, their fingers remained busy working the buttons and fasteners and strings that frustrated their need for a more intimate joining. Elizabeth straddled North's lap, lifting herself up just enough to allow him to raise her gown. He ran his palm along her silk stocking from ankle to just above her knee. Higher than that he was met with her silky skin. Her gown rustled as it was bunched around her hips. Her breath fell softly on his jaw and neck. Behind his back she stripped off her gloves. She kissed him just below the ear and bit his lobe when he settled her back. His satin breeches were smooth and cool on her bare thighs.

Almost without conscious thought, she rubbed against him until cool became warm and warm became a flash point.

"I want to see your breasts," he said.

The centers of Elizabeth's eyes were already dark and wide. Something about North's tone made them go darker and wider. "If you think to find more pearls, my lord, you are sadly out of it there."

That she could manage to be so serious and saucy at once made North want to plunge himself into her. He settled for pulling her more tightly against him and frustrating her with the erection straining his breeches. "Your breasts," he said again, this time fairly growling the words.

Elizabeth's breasts actually swelled against the bodice of her gown. She moaned a little as his fingers tugged on the neckline. She had to help him, and in the end she was eager to do so. Her breasts ached to be touched.

"Pearls," he said, brushing her nipples with the pads of his thumbs. "So you are a thief, my lady."

"Fool."

"For you." He urged her upward until these pearls were presented to his mouth. He took one in, sucking, laving, drawing on it so hotly that she gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders. "Oh, North... Brendan." Her breath came quickly. The cool air inside the carriage swirled around her, but North's touch made it of no account. On either side of his legs her thighs tried to squeeze together. She began to ride his solid frame.

North palmed her buttocks and felt her wriggle when he wanted to hold her still. She was fluid in his hands, lifting, rocking, sliding against him. He caught her other breast. He rolled the tender tip between his teeth and lips. She cried out this time, something between a laugh and a sob, incoherent, unintelligible, and primal. It communicated everything she felt and desired and needed in that moment. North understood perfectly.

They both fumbled with the front of his breeches, cursing the slippery satin and their own clumsy fingers. Her hand glided along his engorged penis, stroking the underside just before she rose up and guided him inside her. Their breath mingled, hot and humid. He kissed the corner of her mouth until she moved and took him fully, first with her lips slanting across his, then with her body sinking deeply onto him.

His fingers pressed against her bottom, lifting her, supporting her, helping her find just the right rhythm. She was tight around him, wet and slippery, her muscles contracting as she rose as if she did not quite want to release him. It was sweet torture. He would have told her how the colonel manipulated the French ambassador, how he managed to make the Prince Regent leave the ball early, and why the ambassador's daughter wore the emeralds instead of the pearls if she had but asked. She didn't, though, so these small secrets remained untold.

"You're smiling," she said, kissing the faint dimple at the corner of his mouth. "Why are you smiling?"

"Madam," North said dryly, "you have me to the hilt. Need you ask?"

She settled more firmly against him, wriggling just a bit to make him seize her bottom tightly. The carriage bounced and her eyes widened as he seemed to touch her womb. "Now I have you to the hilt," she said softly.

"Indeed. Shall you have your wicked way?" He was both agreeable and hopeful.

Elizabeth pressed her brow against his. "Do you know what sort of books the ambassador keeps in his private library?"

"Elizabeth," he said, "we shall be home soon."

"I have never seen the like before."

"Then it was not filled with Gothic novels."

Her small laugh was cut off abruptly as he moved under her. One of his hands left the curve of her bottom to trail slowly around her hip and dip between her thighs. Elizabeth's lashes fluttered closed and her lips parted. She was a moment collecting herself. "Not Gothic novels," she said in a rush.

"You must have been sorely disappointed." His index finger began to rub lightly against the fleshy hood of her clitoris. A strangled sound came from the back of her throat. "My lady?"

"Oh, please, Northam. We will be home soon. Have pity."

He did, of course, as much for his own sake as hers. North's mouth caught hers, his tongue sweeping deeply, drawing on hers as he let her hips move again. When she broke the kiss he feasted on her neck. Her tender breasts, warm and achingly full, rubbed against the gold threads in his waistcoat.

The well-sprung carriage was not proof against the rock and sway of their bodies. The clatter of the wheels on the icy cobblestones was lost to them. Elizabeth reared back, thrusting her hips forward, and Northam set his heels hard against the opposite bench. She came noisily, and a moment later so did he.

BOOK: Let Me Be The One
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