Seducing the Spy (36 page)

He recovered quickly, however. "Perhaps I should give you a medal, but how to honor you when the deed is a secret of national security? The Chimera's death will get back to Napoleon eventually, but we would like him to believe we had time to squeeze a few secrets from the bastard."

Alicia clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, no." She put her hand down but her eyes spoke volumes. "I should have—I shouldn't have killed him! I should have realized that you would have questions for him—oh, dear—"

He stared at her quizzically. "Lady Alicia, are you apologizing for not dragging back a living spy—the most dangerous and deadly spy in the history of England, mind you—to deposit at my feet the way a hardworking tabby cat might bring me a mouse?"

She frowned. "Er—yes?" She wrinkled her nose. "That doesn't sound quite right, does it?"

George's laughter threatened to wake Forsythe. Alicia smiled, but inside she only wished that the journey was over. The sooner she could pack up Millie and Garrett and leave London, the sooner she could be sure she would never see Stanton again.

Carlton House was lovely of course, being the royal residence, and George's staff was impeccably kind and attentive. Garrett was in heaven and Millie, who George had already transported back for Alicia, was in ecstasy. Alicia was served, pampered and visited by George's own personal physician.

A letter arrived from Alberta announcing her grand passion for Lord Farrington and her upcoming marriage to him. Antonia wrote as well, a stiff but pleasant letter that contained neither blame nor apology. Their parents were well, Father would soon be hitting Farrington up for a loan, etc.

All was well. Her wound was healing beautifully. Everything that had gone wrong five years ago was being made right. Alicia ought to have been happy.

Unfortunately, her heart seemed to have been left in Sussex, for she surely could feel no sign of it now. She went through the next few days in a numbed state of obedient indifference. On the night of George's party for her, Alicia allowed Garrett to dress her and let him and Millie argue for ten minutes on the best way to do her hair before she thought to intervene.

She walked into the party feeling as if she were watching from a distance: George and his current mistress, a large, bosomy woman who welcomed Alicia with a large, bosomy hug, sat her between them at dinner. Alicia was distantly conscious of the honor and behaved herself beautifully—for what did it matter if the gentleman across from her was an idiot, or that his companion was catty and unkind? Alicia simply had no claws left in her spirit nor interest left in her heart. She smiled, she nodded, she made perfectly pointless conversation.

Such irony, that when she had left Stanton behind, she had become the perfect doll-like Marchioness after all.

After the meal was served, the Prince Regent cleared his throat.

"I have in my possession a letter, written by a gentleman to the lady of his heart. He has asked me to read it to her, in public, so that all might know how he cares for her."

"To Lady Alicia—"

Alicia blinked. Oh, no. It wasn't one of those fawning swains from Cross's party, was it? How absurd. She sighed, prepared to listen with a non-committal half-smile and make polite noises after. Then she could excuse herself from this painful farce on the grounds of her "illness."

George continued.

"To Lady Alicia,

"From your first letter, I was captivated by your quick mind and your ready wit. From our first meeting, I was haunted by your lovely eyes and your subtle grace. From the first day, hour, moment—I have been bombarded with firsts. The first time I heard you laugh. The first time I made you weep. The first taste of your lips. The first caress of your skin. The first warming of a heart held too long in the cold and the dark.

"I did not understand, for I had lived too long alone. Where there was generosity, I saw recklessness. Where there was trust, I saw manipulation. Where there was love, I looked for lies.

"So I took the gold of the sun into my hand and treated it as brass.

"Rightfully so, you took it back from me… and took it away."

Alicia could hear the beat of her own heart thudding in her ears, almost drowning out the words of a woman seated near her.

"That's so beautiful," the woman sighed. "So passionate!"

George went on reading.

"I thought I was done, an accomplished man in control of his surroundings. But I was cold, so cold that I was ice inside.

"You burn so fiercely it alarmed me, unnerved me, unmanned me. I feared that when I melted in your flame there would be nothing left—yet I could not stay away. As helpless as a moth who dies by the candle, I could not stop my circling of you.

"Too late I learn that I should not have tried. You have forged someone new with your fire, someone who might just be able to survive and flourish in close proximity to the molten core of you.

"I want more from you than I have any right to, but you will fare better without me than with me, so I will not ask. I only wish to tell you that you have left me changed. The world will not know me, so far am I from the man I was. The world will benefit, I believe, and I will ever be indebted to you for teaching the ice to thaw.

"I wish you always the joyous summer you deserve and blame you not for fleeing the stark winter you saw in me.

"Goodbye.

"Yours forever, Alicia, my love,

"Wyndham"

Alicia couldn't breathe for the emotions flooding her. All numbness had disappeared in the storm. She was furious that Stanton would let her be so miserable for so long. She was elated that he would make so free with his feelings in public. She was suddenly, irrepressibly filled with such magnificent hope that she hardly dared move for fear that she would wake from this dream.

She carefully laid her napkin on her plate. "Where is he, your highness? He's here, somewhere, I know it."

"I can't imagine why you would think so," George said smoothly.

Alicia turned her head to gaze at him, raising a brow. "Your highness, I don't care what Stanton did to you that you must avenge yourself thus. I want to know where he is. I think you'll recall that it does not go well with you if you refuse me."

George leaned away slightly. "Ah… he's in the music room, just through that door." He pointed obligingly, the other hand casually protecting his left cheek.

"Thank you, your highness." She stood, pushing back her chair. "I cannot stay," she called to all present. "My lover is waiting for me. Carry on with your dessert!"

She ran around the table, skidding slightly in her silk slippers. Fortunately, the door to the music room was unlocked, for she would not have allowed such a measly thing as a royal latch on a royal door to stop her headlong rush.

Stanton was there, tall and delicious and hers forever. He'd obviously been pacing worriedly, the dear. As if she could ever deny him!

He whirled at her bombastic entrance and scarcely opened his arms in time to catch her. They toppled back onto a royal settee, then rolled to the royal carpet together.

Finally, she had him just where she wanted him, trapped beneath her while she covered his face with kisses.

"I'm not—all those things—you said," she whispered between kisses.

"Of course not." He took her face between his large hands and stopped her for a moment. "You're more."

She shook her head. "You're a fool to think so."

He smiled slowly. "I think perhaps I am—for you."

She blinked back the burning in her eyes. "Don't make me cry when I'm so bloody happy."

He brought her down for a long, deep kiss that left her knees weak and various other parts humming with glee. "I love you," he told her, whispering the words into her hair. "If you'll let me up, I'll propose properly."

Alicia shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. Anything you have to say can be said perfectly well on your back."

He laughed out loud, in that easy, open way she'd heard so rarely and loved so much. She closed her eyes and simply listened, feeling the deep rumble in his chest throughout her entire body. He truly was happy.

"Very well, then," he said with a grin. "I love you. I want to marry you. I want you to be precisely who you are at every moment of every day, and if anyone in Society, the government or the Church of England doesn't like it, they should feel perfectly free to jump in the Thames."

Alicia smiled. "Your terms are acceptable. Now here are mine. I love you. I want to marry you. I want you to be precisely who you are at every moment of every day… except once in a while, can we wear costumes to bed? I've always fancied you as a highwayman in black."

A slow, hot smile lighted his face. With one quick motion, he rolled her over to lay heavily, deliciously upon her. "Stand and deliver," he growled.

She twined her arms around his neck, pushing her fingers deep into his thick hair. "Of course, lord highwayman—but don't you think we ought to close the door first?"

«
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Alicia hopped on one foot while Stanton hurriedly did up her gown. "Blast it!" she muttered. "Where did I throw that other slipper?"

"My weskit was on the chandelier, so there's no telling." Stanton found it under the dressing table, along with his cravat. He frowned at his limp linen. "I'm going to have to call for Herbert."

Alicia snatched the slipper and donned it, then bent to fix her hair in the mirror. "But if he comes, then Garrett will too, and Garrett will never let me go out without a complete redressing and coifing and we're late as it is! Antonia will never forgive me if we aren't on time to meet her new fiancé!"

Wyndham waved his useless cravat. "But I don't actually know how to tie these things."

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Are you quite serious?"

He shrugged. "It never seemed necessary."

She turned and planted her hands on her hips. "Well, if you hadn't kissed my neck that way—"

He mocked her stance. "Well, if you hadn't filled out your bodice that way—" His eyes darkened as he looked at her now. "You're still doing it."

She crossed her arms and inhaled. "Doing what?"

His jaw worked. "Come here."

She took a step backward. "Make me."

She only had a moment to giggle wildly before he caught her. Dinner at Sutherland House would have to wait.

Outside the room, Dobbins paused at the door with a tray. Another servant came down the hall and saw him hesitating.

"At it again, are they? The honeymoon's been over for months!"

Dobbins nodded. "He ain't human."

"He never has been." The other man shook his head in admiration. "Lucky bastard."

Dobbins sighed and turned back to the kitchen. He'd best be ready with another tray. Her ladyship could be downright frightening when she didn't get her tea.