TemptedByHisKiss (25 page)

Abruptly, Everett grew quiet and turned his head in her direction. Angling deeper into the shadows, she pressed her fist tighter against her lips and tried not to so much as breathe. Whispering a silent prayer in her head, she beseeched whatever god might be listening not to let Everett see her through the crack in the door.

After a long moment he relaxed and glanced away, focusing his attention once more on the note in his hand. “Excellent work,” he pronounced as he slipped the paper into the inner breast pocket of his coat.

“I am glad you approve,” the stranger replied in a low, silky voice, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “I dare remain no longer. Unless there is something else of an urgent nature, I shall be going.”

His words ought to have been her cue to flee, to turn and hurry on soundless feet back to the safety and shelter of the crowded ballroom. Instead, some instinct held her in place, her body motionless as she huddled on the other side of the door.

She tensed when the stranger strode forward to leave. But instead of moving in her direction, he advanced toward a pair of French doors on the far side of the room. As he passed her vantage point, she tried to get a glimpse of his features, but his profile proved indistinguishable in the dimly lit room. She was left with nothing more than a general impression of a moderately tall man with dark hair and a medium build. He could have been almost anyone.

A light June breeze blew the sheer curtains inside as he opened the doors. Without stopping to glance back, he stepped over the threshold and was gone.

Everett, remaining in the room, shut and locked the doors behind him. Then he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew the note he’d been given. Opening it, he took a moment to study the contents. Striding to the fireplace, he paused before the barely smoldering ashes in the hearth, crushed the paper in his fist and tossed it into the grate with a flick of his wrist.

Knowing she dare not wait a second longer, Meg ran. Halfway down the hall, she saw a partially open door to her left that she hadn’t previously noticed. Without giving herself a second to think, she darted toward it and dashed inside, immediately swallowed by the room’s shielding darkness. Slipping even deeper into the shadows, she waited, her heartbeat drumming so loudly in her ears she feared Everett would surely hear it as he passed.

Then his footsteps sounded, echoing ever so softly against the marble tiles. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to make a peep, a tight, asphyxiating sensation forming in her throat, as though an invisible hand were cutting off her air.

His footfalls grew closer, then drew even with the room. Biting the inside of her lip, she waited to see if they would stop and turn to come inside. But instead his footsteps continued on down the hallway, their sound diminishing.

Meg sagged with relief, the chemise under her stays damp with perspiration. She stood in the darkness for a full five minutes more, not completely trusting that he was gone. Only then did she inch toward the door. Peering around with a cautious eye, she scanned the hallway and found it empty and silent again. Moving out into the corridor, she started in the direction of the ballroom, then suddenly stopped.

The note, she thought. What was written in that note?

Whatever it was, Everett had obviously committed the message to memory, since he’d thrown the missive into the fireplace. It was probably ash by now, but what if it wasn’t? There had barely been a fire in the grate. Was it possible enough of the message remained that she could retrieve it? Or a portion of it, at least?

Worrying the tip of a fingernail between her teeth, she considered her options and knew she could not let the opportunity pass.
I’ve come this far, I might as well see it through.
Spinning on the balls of her feet, she raced toward the room at the end of the hall.

The hour was just past two when Cade pressed the latch that controlled the hidden panel leading to Meg’s bedchamber. Easing open the false door, he moved into the room, the flame of his candle flickering as he closed the panel behind him.

Usually she waited for him in the darkness, but to
night she had not extinguished her bedside candle. Nor was she in bed. Instead she sat near the fireplace in a wing chair, the same one in which he himself had sat on the night he first visited her here. How long ago that all seemed now.

He crossed to the night table and set down his candlestick. Turning back, he noticed the pensive expression on her face. “Why are you not already abed?” he questioned in a soft voice.

“I’m not tired.”

“Even more reason for you to be in bed.” He held out a hand. “Come, and I’ll see if I can help wear you out a bit.”

She said nothing and did not smile, nor did she make an effort to do as he suggested.

“What is it?” he asked, his arm dropping to his side.

“Nothing, I…actually there is something, but…”

“But what?”

She rubbed a palm over her rose-hued dressing gown, then looked up and met his gaze. “Promise you will not get angry.”

His brows furrowed. “And why would I have cause to be angry?”

“Just promise and I shall tell you.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Meg—”

“Promise. And swear you won’t yell, either. I do not want the whole house descending upon us.”

“I am always careful about that. Though I must point out, the same cannot always be said of you.”

A pretty wash of color spread over her cheeks. “Nevertheless,” she continued, “I would have your word as a gentleman.”

A muscled tightened in his jaw. What was this all
about? he wondered with a sudden uncomfortable tug in his gut. “Very well. You have my word that I will not yell. I will also do my utmost to curb any anger that may arise. Now, what is it?”

“This,” she said. Reaching into her pocket, she drew out a heavily creased piece of writing paper, faint whorls of brown and black along the edges and center as if the vellum had been partially burned.

He stared for a long moment. “A note? Why would I yell at you over a note?”

Her gaze fell, the fingers of her free hand pleating and unpleating the silken skirt of her dressing gown. “Because it’s not just any note. It…”

“Yes?” he drawled encouragingly.

“It was meant for Lord Everett, but he threw it in the fireplace, so I plucked it out.”

“You did what!” he bellowed.

“You said you wouldn’t yell.”

He fisted his hands at his sides and wished that he’d never made such an idiotic promise. Drawing a deep, calming breath, he forced himself to speak in a quiet, modulated tone. “What do you mean the note was for Lord Everett?”

“He had a secret rendezvous with one of his spy contacts tonight where he received this missive.”

A vein throbbed in his temple as he strove for control. “And how would you know that?”

“Because I followed him and eavesdropped on the conversation.”

“You did what!”

She sent him a reproving look. “You’re yelling again, and in case you don’t realize it, you are starting to repeat yourself.”

His hands opened and closed at his sides. Careful to keep his voice lowered, he asked his next question in deliberate tones. “Just so I am certain I understand, you trailed Everett out of the ballroom—”

“No, not out of it,” she interrupted. “I was already in the corridor downstairs from the ballroom, enjoying a quiet moment to myself, when he entered the hallway. I saw him disappear into one of the unoccupied rooms at the far end of the house and knew immediately that he was up to no good.”

“That blackguard is never up to anything good, a fact of which you are fully aware.” He thrust his hands into his robe pockets and paced a few steps. “Why did you not go back to the ballroom? Why did you not come and find me?”

Tiny lines puckered the usually smooth surface of her forehead. “There wasn’t time to find you. As for the other, well, I could not stand aside and let whatever he was up to go unobserved.”

“You certainly could have, and
should
have. You promised me you would have nothing more to do with the man.”

“And I have not,” she defended, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “Well, except once when he approached me at the opera—”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. “He sought you out?”

“Yes, one evening a few weeks ago, when you were not in attendance. I told him I wanted nothing more to do with him, and he has abided by my wishes. I have not spoken so much as a word to the man since that night.”

“Why did you not tell me this sooner?”

“For the same reason I wish I did not feel compelled to tell you about tonight, since I knew how you would react. But there is this note, and I thought it vital that I pass along what I learned.”

“And what is that exactly?” he bit out, doing his best not to raise his voice. “Did Everett see you?”

“Of course not.”

“How can you be sure?”

An expression of affront crossed her face. “I took great care not to get caught.”

“But you might have been seen anyway. Do you know the kind of risk you took? Did you even stop to think what might have occurred if he’d found you listening in on him?”

A faint shudder ran through her. “Of course I did. But it all worked out fine and he and the man he met have no idea I saw them.”

Cade paced again and raked his fingers through his hair, wanting to rail at her for putting herself in such terrible jeopardy. He wanted to drag her to her feet and give her a long hard shake, scare her enough that she would never, ever consider doing something so foolhardy ever again. They’d been through this once before, and he’d thought the matter resolved. Apparently, he was mistaken.

Not trusting himself within two feet of her at the moment, he walked over to the bed and sat down. “So who was this other man?” he asked in a strangely flat tone.

Tension eased visibly from her shoulders now that it seemed he would no longer upbraid her for her actions. “I don’t know. He stayed in the shadows the whole time, so I could not see his face. He sounded English, though, and of the nobility.”

“And the note? How did you obtain it?”

“Oh, well, all the details aren’t necessary, but after Everett threw it in the fireplace and returned to the ball, I went back to the room.”

His lips firmed. “Naturally.”

“We’re lucky the note wasn’t destroyed, considering it was lying in the grate. But the coals had burned so low there wasn’t enough heat to ignite the paper…well, not much,” she added, holding up the partially seared slip of vellum.

He repressed the urge to show his teeth. “And what does the note say?”

“Here,” she said, rising and coming forward. “Maybe you should read it for yourself.”

Pausing for a moment, he leaned forward to accept it. The sorely abused piece of paper crackled softly between his fingers as he unfolded it along one crease.

A dark, looping signature was affixed at the bottom, the scrawl completely indecipherable.

“It’s not much,” she said, “but I thought it might be important. A meeting place perhaps.”

“Perhaps.” Folding it in half again, he tucked the note into his pocket. He decided not to tell her that Steybridge Lodge was a bankrupted estate that had recently been sold on the auction block to an anonymous bidder. Could the new owner be Everett, or did it now belong to someone else entirely? Some other spy? Some new traitor?

“Sunday is tomorrow,” she continued. “Could it mean midnight tomorrow? Or rather today, since it’s morning already.”

“I am not sure yet what it means, and you are done speculating on such matters.”

“But Cade—”

‘ “But Cade’ nothing. I gave you my word, now I want yours. You will not engage in any further attempts to eavesdrop or spy on Everett or anyone else with whom he might meet. And in the future, if he so much as looks at you, you are to find me immediately and stick by my side like a burr.”

“A burr, hmm? That might prove a bit too close for comfort.”

He yanked her against him, one arm locking behind her legs as she stood between his spread thighs. “This isn’t funny, Meg. You could have been hurt. Your promise, please.”

She sobered instantly. “You’re right and you have my word. I will never trail Everett again.” Reaching up, she brushed her fingers through his hair. “Actually, it was a rather frightening experience.”

“As well it should have been.” Inhaling, he worked to throw off the worst of his anger. “It’s late. We should go to bed.”

“Yes, we should.” Sliding her hand over his cheek, she caressed him. “Are you still in the mood to wear me out a bit?”

Blood rushed straight to his loins, his arousal springing instantly to life—aching and urgent. Any further conversation about the note and her retrieval of it could wait until later, he decided. Pressing his face against her breasts, he breathed in her sweet, feminine warmth.
Wanting more, he clasped her buttocks in his palms and kneaded her pliant flesh. Then, without giving her any warning, he leaned backward across the bed and toppled her across him.

As they fell she cried out, bouncing against his erection, which was pressed to her stomach like a steel rod. “I guess you are still in the mood,” she murmured, shimmying against him.

Capturing her mouth with his, he proceeded to show her exactly how much.

C
ade drew her aside the next morning after breakfast, delaying her departure until everyone else had left. A nod to the servants had them shuffling out and closing the door behind them.

“I wanted you to know not to expect me tonight,” he told her in a quiet voice. “So do not wait up.”

Meg turned and set a hand on his sleeve. “You’re going after him, then?”

“I am going to see if there is anything to the message you foolishly risked life and limb to retrieve. There’s a very great chance Sunday midnight is another Sunday midnight. It could also be a code for something else entirely.”

She felt lines form across the bridge of her nose. “Do you believe it’s a code?”

He caught her hand and pressed it flat against his chest. “Whatever it is, don’t worry. I shall return by morning. You’ll barely know I was away.”

“Away where? I assume you are familiar with the location in the note?”

He grew silent for a long minute, as if deciding whether to respond. “I’ve never been to Steybridge Lodge, but the property is in Kent. And that is all I plan to say on the subject.”

Realizing there was no use attempting to pry further, she moved on to another concern. “Are the duke or any of your brothers going with you?”

“No,” he said, releasing her hand to take a step away. “Nor is there need for them to bother. I plan to do nothing more than a simple reconnoiter, then I will be on the road back to London once more.”

So he is going alone, she realized, her stomach churning with anxiety. Suddenly she found herself awash in regret, wishing she’d never taken the note out of the fireplace or shown it to Cade. With typical male arrogance, he assumed he could do everything himself. But what if he could not? What if he were wrong?

“Perhaps you ought to—”

“Let me handle this, Meg,” he interrupted. “I only told you about my plans because I knew you would fret and do something potentially foolish.”

“I take umbrage at that characterization, my lord. I may act rashly on occasion, but I am never foolish.”

He smiled. “I intended no insult, only a dose of well-deserved caution.” Abruptly, he sobered. “Speaking of which, I want your promise you will go to the party tonight with Mama and Mallory, dance and enjoy yourself, as usual, and then come straight home. Is that fully understood?”

“Completely,” she agreed.

Of course, just because she went to the party didn’t mean she had to remain the entire time. Nor did his requirements stipulate that she stay home once she returned for the evening. Possibilities raced through her mind, though at the moment she didn’t know which of them she might act upon, if any. Striving not to let her thoughts show, she gave him what she hoped was a concerned yet compliant smile.

Cade pinned her with an assessing look that made her wonder if he knew she wasn’t nearly as acquiescent as she seemed. But then he nodded in apparent satisfaction and seemed to dismiss his qualms.

After a glance at the closed breakfast room door, he drew her into his arms and gave her a slow kiss. “I will say good-night to you now, since we will most likely both be too busy today to do more than share hellos in passing. I shall see you tomorrow morning, or earlier should I return in time.”

“Until tomorrow. Promise you’ll be careful,” she said.

“I wouldn’t think of being anything else.”

Contrary to what he’d implied to Meg, Cade knew he wouldn’t be without an ally at Steybridge Lodge. Although he’d made no effort to contact the man, given the lack of time, he knew Thelonious Ferrick would find his way there. After all, Ferrick’s task was to follow Everett, and Cade trusted that’s exactly what he would do.

He supposed he could have remained in London and let Ferrick report on what he discovered. But now that Everett was finally coming out into the open again, Cade wanted to be there to take advantage. He also wanted to
find out who Everett was meeting and, if possible, what secrets were being passed between them.

He’d been honest when he told Meg that he planned no more than a simple reconnoiter—at least for now. But if matters turned in his favor tonight, he was prepared to act. With any luck, perhaps he would catch not one, but two spies in the act. Then again, if the note proved to be nothing more than an interesting tease and Everett failed to appear, Cade knew he would find himself alone in the Kentish countryside with a long, dark ride home. Either way, he decided, the journey was worth a few hours of his time.

Late that afternoon, while the other ladies were having a lie-down before rising to dress for dinner and that night’s ball, Meg decided to go outside to the mews. Before leaving the house, she checked with one of the servants to make sure Cade was absent, since she was all too aware—after one of her midnight conversations with him—that his bedchamber possessed an excellent view of the stable yard. One of the horses whickered a soft greeting as she moved into the stable’s shaded interior, the air ripe with the scent of hay and horseflesh. Not long after her entrance, her usual groom approached, giving his cap a respectful tug.

“Hallo, miss.”

“Good afternoon, Brown. And how are you?”

“I’m well, miss, and thank you for asking. Can I be helpin’ ye with some’at?” he inquired, giving her a curious look, since she didn’t generally venture out to the stables at that time of day.

“Actually, you can. I was wondering if you could tell me if Lord Cade has ordered his carriage for tonight?”

He took off his cap to scratch his head before setting it back in place. “I wouldn’t rightly know, since his lordship usually deals directly with the head groom. But I do remember hearing some mention about havin’ his curricle made ready for the evening.”

“Was a particular time discussed?”

Brown arched a shaggy brow. “’Round ten, I think I heard.”

She smiled. “Thank you. Now, I have a bit of a favor.”

The man shuffled a foot, looking uncomfortable. “Favor, miss? An wot would that be?”

“Nothing much. I am just wondering if you could see to it that my mare is saddled and ready by, say…half past nine tonight?”

“Well certainly, miss.”

“And I would like you to leave her in her stall. I shall come get her when I am ready.” Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a gold guinea—as much money as she knew the man likely earned in a fortnight. “You won’t say anything about my request, will you? Most especially not to Lord Cade.”

His eyes strayed to the coin. After a moment’s hesitation, he scooped it out of her palm and into his own pocket. “No, miss. Don’t know nothin’ about such things. Following his lordship, is ye?” he added with a wink.

“Perhaps.”

“Aye, well, the horse’ll be ready by nine. They’ll miss me at cards in the tack room if I saddle ’er any later.”

“Nine it is, then.”

Leaving the party early proved far easier than Meg had anticipated. Drawing the duchess and Mallory aside
not long after their arrival, she explained that she had a dreadful headache and wished to go home.

“You do look rather pale,” Mallory remarked.

Do I? Meg wondered. If her cheeks were markedly pale, she could only assume it was the result of the nerves that had been gnawing at her all afternoon and evening.

“I hope you are not coming down with a summer cold or some such,” Ava added, laying a motherly hand across Meg’s forehead. “No fever at least.”

“Oh, I do not think it is anything serious,” Meg said. “Just another of my megrims that shall pass soon enough.”

Mallory nodded. “We shall go home, then—”

“Oh no, I would feel even more dreadful knowing I had ruined the evening for you both. You must stay and enjoy yourselves. I shall take the coach home, then have it sent back for you.”

Another minute’s persuasion was needed before she was able to convince them to remain at the party, but finally the deed was managed. She also convinced them that they did not need to look in on her upon their return.

“It will be late when you arrive,” she declared, “and I plan to go straight to bed. I am sure all I require is a sound night’s sleep. I shall see both of you in the morning.”

With everything settled, she soon found herself inside the family coach traveling back to Clybourne House.

Once there, she had to playact for her maid as well, allowing Amy to assist her out of her evening gown and into night attire. With the minutes ticking past at an alarming rate, Meg hurried the girl out, then stripped
off her clothes to don one of her old black day dresses and her most serviceable pair of boots.

A last-minute flash of inspiration had her tucking her pillows underneath the coverlet in the shape of what she hoped would resemble her sleeping body should one of the ladies decide to check on her after all. Then, after snuffing out her bedside candle, it was time to go.

Until she stood out in the hallway, however, she hadn’t considered that she might have the terrible misfortune of encountering Cade on his way to his carriage. In fact, she was hurrying down a back staircase that led to the mews when she heard his voice echoing somewhere above her in the house. Hurrying faster, she somehow succeeded in making her way to the stable and into the stall with her mare—which she found saddled and ready, exactly as promised—without discovery.

Minutes later she heard Cade speaking again, this time with one of the grooms as he climbed into his curricle. Knowing she dare not wait more than a minute after his departure, for fear of losing him after he reached the first tollgate out of the city, she led her horse from the stall, mounted at the stable block, and set off.

A few minutes before midnight, Cade parked his curricle along a secluded lane about a half mile away from Steybridge Lodge. Leaving his horse happily munching on a feed bag, he set off through an area of woodland, which an earlier survey of the property had shown would be his best means of accessing the estate without notice. He was careful to keep his footsteps silent against the loamy ground, glad he had his cane to assist not only in crossing the uneven terrain, but also to aid in his potential defense.

He’d had the new cane especially commissioned a few weeks ago, its hollow interior housing a sword blade honed to a lethal sharpness. Not that he anticipated having to use it, but one never knew.

The moon was high and full, crickets chirping out a rhythmic tune in the warm night air. As he drew within sight of the property, he noticed a sense of abandonment and disuse, despite the single light that shined within the house. With the possible exception of a caretaker, the place looked as though it was still not lived in, despite its new owner. A perfect location, he mused, for a clandestine meeting between traitors.

He chose a sheltered spot with an excellent view of the lodge and prepared to wait and watch. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty. There was no movement anywhere, no indication that anyone else was around. Maybe the time and day in the note had been erroneous. Perhaps there was no scheduled rendezvous here, after all.

He was about to turn away when a feeling crept over him that made his gut tighten and the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up. As he watched, a fresh source of light flared abruptly on the drive leading to the house. A man, obviously a servant, moved into view with a lantern held high before him. Behind him came another man, the stride of the second both arrogant and familiar.

Everett!

Cade’s hand tightened on his cane, ready to draw his weapon and fight. Yet a glance behind him showed he was still alone, no enemy at his back. Scowling, he watched as Everett stopped, the other man’s boots
crunching against the gravel as he turned to face the woods.

“I know you’re out there, Byron,” Everett called. “I’ve been waiting all evening for you to arrive.”

Cade said nothing. Does he truly know I’m here or is he only guessing? he wondered.

“You’ve chosen a good spot there in the woods,” Everett continued. “It’s the one I would have picked had I been in your shoes.”

Where is Ferrick? Cade wondered. Was the other man there, listening as well? If they could only locate each other, the two of them could work to take down Everett. Assuming they could justify taking him down, since it appeared Everett was not meeting a contact tonight, after all. At least not one Cade had seen.

“Tsk, tsk,”
Everett said in a taunting voice. “You really should be more cooperative, you know, considering I have something you may want returned.”

Something I want? What could that be?
His senses warned him that Everett was attempting to lead him into a trap, but perhaps the scoundrel was only goading him for his own twisted purposes.

“Not curious then, hmm?” Everett remarked in a conversational tone. “I’m sure there are those who would be very disappointed to hear of your indifference. Your man, for instance.”

Damn
.
Ferrick.

“That’s right. I found him skulking around about an hour since. He’s a wily bastard, and strong. He put up a good fight, but it didn’t do him any good in the end.”

Cade leaned against a tree at his side and pressed his fist hard against the rough bark.

“He isn’t dead, if that’s what you’re wondering. Though he may be by morning, considering the crack he took to his skull. He certainly won’t be rushing to your aid, or his own, anytime soon.”

Cade knew he could try going after Ferrick, but chances were good he would only get himself caught in the process. His best option, he decided, was to go back to the city for his brothers, then return for Ferrick. With any luck, they wouldn’t be too late to save the man—assuming Everett didn’t kill him in the meantime.

Everett sighed loudly. “You really are tedious, do you know that, Byron? Do you not want to know what else I have? I’m sure you’ll regret passing up the chance to see.”

The squirming sensation returned, writhing in his belly like a nest of vipers.
Other than Ferrick, what could the blackguard possibly have that would lure me out?

Everett moved then, dragging another person out into the glow cast by the lantern. It was a woman, her black skirts swinging as she nearly stumbled, her pale blond hair gleaming like moonlight.