My Lady, My Spy (Secrets and Seduction Book 4) (22 page)

He bent to gather the puddle of Josephine’s pantaloons from the floor and raise them to her waist. Just before he pulled them over her hips, he paused, staring at her round, perfect bottom. He pressed a kiss just above the base of her spine and then pulled her pantaloons up the rest of the way. He made quick work of re-tying the drawstring.

He pulled down her hoop skirt, letting the fabric fall to her feet in a soft swoosh of satin.

She braced her hands against the desk and pressed herself upright. She turned to face him. Not a hair was out of place. She looked perfect. Untouched. The only telltale signs of what had just taken place were her slightly swollen lips and her dazed, satiated expression. One he was certain was reflected on his face.

A bemused smile spread across her lips. “Mr. Woolsy, I believe this upcoming year will be a most pleasant one.”

“I plan to make it so pleasant you’ll never want to be parted from me.”

The corners of her mouth turned up even more. “I have the same plan in mind for you. Finding precisely the right motivation can work wonders when it comes to making a change in one’s life.”

He moved closer, pressing his entire length against her as he took her hands and held them straight down to their sides. As he brushed his thumb against the gemstone that now rested on her finger, he locked gazes with her. “You’re my motivation. Mind, soul, and body.”

Then he wrapped her in his embrace for one last long, lingering kiss. She was soft and pliant as he pulled away from her. “A year from tonight, then?”

She blinked at him. “Hmm?”

He brushed the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “You’ll give me your decision a year from tonight?”

She let out a soft, satisfied sigh. “One year. I promise.”

“One year,” he repeated. And not a day longer.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

One year later

The notes of the waltz ended, and the dancers took their time as they slowly strolled off the ballroom floor. Since the orchestra was taking a brief break, there was no need for them to hurry.

Josephine smoothed her hands down the front of her satin gown. It was the soft, fresh green of an English forest on a spring day. She’d given up wearing her signature blue color months ago, and she didn’t miss it. If she ever wanted to catch a glimpse of it, all she had to do was look into Frederick’s eyes. Those gorgeous, celadon-blue eyes that made her heart sing.

She was never far from his side, even here in Constantinople.

The British Embassy was crowded tonight. She glanced around, seeking out Frederick. Her gaze paused as a broad-shouldered man in black evening wear turned. She recognized him even before he faced her. The flash of his blue eyes sent a flutter of awareness through her. He was her home. Her center. Her everything.

The past year had been an exciting one, filled with new experiences and new locales. Although Frederick was usually in London, she now accompanied him on all his missions. She’d finally had the opportunity to begin filling her curio cabinet with little mementos from their travels. The memory tied to each item was priceless. She loved waking up in the morning and peering at her ever-growing collection.

Frederick had proved true to his word. He’d worked every day to be truthful with her. He’d had a few problems with backsliding at first, but he’d kept trying. They’d both kept trying.

And they’d improved.

As he became more truthful, she was able to rely on him. To trust him.

Theirs was the relationship she’d always dreamed of. And to think she’d nearly abandoned it too soon.

“Lady Harrington,” a man said as he approached her. “I received a letter from Mr. Beasley at the British Museum informing me you were passing through Constantinople on your way to Lycia. I’m delighted to welcome you.”

Josephine took in the tall, slim, anemic-looking academic. “What a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Rahim. I recall meeting you last year at the British Museum.”

“Ah, yes. And how is Mr. Beasley?”

“He’s quite well. He’s busy working on the Nereid monument. I’ve been looking forward to this trip for months. I find it impossible to resist visiting the site in Lycia where Mr. Fellows uncovered the monument. For a researcher, there’s nothing better than direct, firsthand knowledge.”

“I envy you,” he replied. “I doubt my constitution would countenance such an arduous trip. But you’re a vision of health. Just remember to wear sturdy shoes. Don’t risk twisting an ankle.” He gave a small shudder. “Or blisters. Blisters can be quite troublesome.”

“Sturdy shoes. Thank you for your excellent advice, Mr. Rahim. I’ll be sure to follow it.” She glanced away to hide the mirth in her eyes and caught sight of Frederick moving toward them.

“I hear there’s even more to your trip than a visit to examine some old ruins,” Mr. Rahim commented.

Josephine tensed as a flutter of apprehension ran through her. Could he know about their mission? Surely not. That didn’t make sense. She relaxed and gave him a teasing smile. “Really? I hope the rumors aren’t scandalous. I’d hate to have my reputation in tatters.”

The man chortled. “Perish the thought. No, I’m referring to your research. Rumor has it you believe you’ve discovered some enormous secret regarding the tomb and are here to confirm it.”

Josephine frowned in surprise. “Mr. Rahim. You astound me. I wasn’t aware my research was common knowledge.”

“Oh, oh, my,” Mr. Rahim sputtered, looking enormously flustered, “I do beg your pardon. I hope I haven’t offended you.”

“Certainly not. I’m flattered you’ve been following my work so closely.” But this served as a warning she’d need to guard her research more carefully in the future. It would be horrifying if some other researcher swooped in and wrote her paper before she could.

Mr. Rahim glanced over her shoulder, and Josephine was surprised to discover that his already too-pale skin could turn even whiter. “I— Your— Please forgive me, but is your fiancé as understanding as you are?”

Josephine turned as Frederick arrived and rested his palm on her waist, just above the swell of her hoop skirts. She loved that possessive gesture. It made her feel as though she belonged here. That they belonged together. It also sent a shiver of awareness through her.

“Frederick, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Azize Rahim. He’s a researcher I met last year in London. He mentioned he’d heard I was coming to Constantinople.”

She glanced up at Frederick, and understanding flashed between them. The excuse they’d given for their visit to Anatolia had been picked up and spread about. That would make tonight’s mission much easier.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Rahim. Lady Harrington frequently discusses both her research and that of her colleagues with me. She’s mentioned your work in Lycia.”

The man’s face flushed slightly, adding needed color to those pale cheeks. “It’s been too long since I’ve been able to go there. My health— well, I’ve suffered a decline. I’ve been following Lady Harrington’s work with great interest. I’m looking forward to reading all about her new discoveries and theories after she visits Lycia. I believe she’s the only woman who is currently undertaking such investigations.”

“Surely not,” Josephine protested. “In fact, I read something recently by Mrs. Westport. She provided fascinating insight into the daily habits of the population living in the region back in 640.”

“Really? I must have missed that. I’ll look into it.”

“You should. Her work is excellent.”

The orchestra’s violinist began playing a few lilting notes, and after a measure, the rest of the orchestra joined in. She loved this particular waltz, and she couldn’t help but smile in anticipation.

“I hope you’ll excuse us, Mr. Rahim,” Frederick said, “but Josephine promised this waltz to me.”

“But of course,” he said, gesturing them toward the dance floor.

Frederick swept her into his arms and they began twirling around the ballroom.

Josephine tipped her head back for a moment, allowing the glittering chandeliers and bright fabrics of the women’s gowns to create a kaleidoscope of color as she spun about. When she refocused her gaze on Frederick’s blue eyes, she was delighted by the love she saw in them. She melted inside.

Tonight. This was the night. They both knew it. She licked her lips. They still had a mission to complete. Waiting to give him his answer until after they were done felt like tempting fate, and she was never one to court bad luck during a mission. Waiting felt unlucky. She could feel it deep in her core. She’d tell him now. Right here on the ballroom floor.

His eyes glittered under the embassy’s chandeliers. “You’re glorious tonight. Did I mention that earlier?”

“No,” she said, grinning, “but I believe you mentioned the word ‘intoxicating’ when you interrupted me as I was dressing for the evening. You nearly disrupted our timetable with your mischief.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “I live to be mischievous with you. You’re my undoing, my dear. I’ve learned to anticipate your impact on me and plan for it.”

She nearly lost her composure. “Do you mean to say you included bedding me in your schedule for tonight?” She scowled in mock severity. “Does that mean I’m becoming too predictable?”

“Predictably intoxicating? That’s a good thing.” He tightened his arm about her waist, pulling her closer for a moment. “Too bad we have a schedule to keep. I’d love nothing more than to pull you into one of those alcoves and make love to you until you’re trembling under my kisses.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “You wouldn’t.”

Frederick leaned closer, murmuring in her ear. “I would, if not for the fact that we have a tight schedule tonight.” The warmth of his breath brushing against her ear sent a shiver down her spine.

She exhaled shakily. “Just like every night when we’re on a mission. You always plan things to the last second.”

“Can I help it that I’m a stickler for details?”

“I wouldn’t have you any other way. It’s gotten us out of a difficult situation more times than I like to recall.”

He cocked his head to one side as he gazed into her eyes. “Speaking of being a stickler for details, do you happen to remember what day it is today?”

She couldn’t hold back her smile. She’d been waiting for this moment. “How could I not? Isn’t that why you arranged everything so we’d be here tonight? Constantinople is decidedly romantic.”

He grinned back at her. “I wanted to make certain you were in the right frame of mind.”

She grinned at that. “You’re sweet. Thoughtful. Devious.”

“You know me well.” His grin might seem quick and relaxed, but she could see through it. He was nervous. “Does that mean you’ll give me the answer I want?” he asked.

That mischievous and perverse streak in her tempted her to draw out this moment. To keep him on tenterhooks. But as she looked into his hopeful eyes, she simply couldn’t do it to him. He’d been waiting patiently for her answer for a year, just as she’d demanded.

“Yes.”

His arm tightened around her. “Which question are you answering? The one from just now, or the one from a year ago?”

“Both.”

He suddenly stopped their twirling movement across the dance floor, letting the other couples swirl past him. Then he picked her up and swung her around in his arms before pulling her close and kissing her soundly.

The other people on the dance floor seemed startled. Various expressions crossed the faces around them: surprise, shock, displeasure, even satisfaction.

Before Josephine could react, Frederick took her hand and hurried her off the dance floor and toward a side door.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked as he continued to pull her down the hallway. He glanced from side to side, as though he was searching for something.

They turned a corner and Frederick stopped in front of a pair of arched wooden doors. “Here,” he said.

Before she could react, he pulled both doors wide and stepped into the small room.

He held one hand out to her, inviting her to join him, and the other hand gestured in a broad sweep across the room. “Your wedding, Lady Harrington.”

Her hand flew to cover her mouth. She let out a gasp of surprise even as she reached out to clutch at Frederick’s outstretched hand. Her mind swirled. She gripped his fingers tightly, holding on to that single piece of firm, solid reality in this swirling world.

She stood at the entrance of a small chapel. The soft glow of flickering candles illuminated the aisle and the man standing at the altar. The pastor.

She turned her gaze on Frederick. “You arranged all this? For me?”

“For us. I don’t want to wait even one minute longer to marry you.”

She took one step closer to him, then another. Then, they were standing shoulder to shoulder. She stood there for a moment, not moving. She absorbed the perfection of the moment, overwhelmed by it all.

Frederick tilted his head close to hers and murmured in her ear. “Is this what you want?”

Her breath hitched in her throat. She couldn’t speak, so instead she gave a sharp, definitive nod.