by Aston, Alexa
“I think I will leave now and position myself near Selina Crawford’s house.”
“I thought you said the meeting wasn’t until midnight.”
“Then I’ll be early,” he said curtly. “I wish to see who enters and if I can identify them. I will see you at breakfast,” he said, his voice low. “Good night, Lady Covington.”
With that, Burke rose and quickly left the room.
Gemma smiled to herself.
He was jealous.
Good.
*
Burke stormed from the Lawrey townhouse, cursing under his breath.
He’d behaved like a jealous, lovestruck schoolboy over the attention Viscount Redmond had paid to Gemma. He’d never felt a smidgeon of envy as another man spoke to a woman.
Until now.
In truth, Redmond was much more the kind of man Gemma should be interested in. He had looks and wore his wealth as easily as he did his tailored clothing. He was friendly and would be kind to her. They already had a shared past, Robert Smythe being the link between them. The three must have been close at one time since the viscount addressed Gemma by her Christian name and she did the same to him.
It didn’t matter if Redmond was more suitable for her, though. Burke wanted her. Less than a day had passed since he’d kissed her and brought pleasure to her—and his every thought was consumed by her.
Gemma was his. Period.
He would just have to let her know.
He’d thought tonight would be the night he took her to bed but his desire for her would have to wait. Learning of tonight’s clandestine meeting at Selina Crawford’s residence might be vital to their mission of learning who the traitor in the War Office was. Besides, Burke knew Gemma would need to be nudged. Courted. She would never willingly leap into his bed blindly. Robert Smythe stood between them. Burke would have to assure her and assuage any doubts or fears she might possess.
And then he would make her his.
He reached his carriage and motioned for Jones to come down from the driver’s seat. They stepped away from the vehicle so the footman couldn’t hear their conversation.
“There’s to be a meeting tonight at Mrs. Crawford’s. Lord Hampton has held one other with several unknown men in attendance,” he told the crown agent. “Drive past once so we can scout and see where we can both stand and have a decent view of the front entryway. Then park around the corner a block or so down.”
Jones nodded and assumed his position behind the horses while Burke climbed into the carriage. They drove for a quarter-hour before approaching the courtesan’s current place of residence. Jones slowed the vehicle slightly and Burke noted a few places where they could lurk in the shadows and see who came to attend Hampton’s late night meeting.
The coach turned the corner and came to a halt. He got out as Jones told the footman to sit in the driver’s seat and keep a watch, then the two men started down the street together. They agreed upon where each would stand.
“I want not only the number but who is in attendance. We know Hampton will be there. A servant I spoke with earlier told me Viscount Carpenter had also come.”
Jones nodded. “I know Carpenter by sight. You don’t know who the others will be?”
“No. The girl said only one other late meeting had been called and then Hampton went upstairs to frolic with Mrs. Crawford. I assume he’ll do the same tonight so we won’t need to wait for him to come out. Watch for my signal when those who attend start to leave. Get the carriage and bring it to the corner. I may want us to follow one of the departing guests.”
Jones grunted his assent and the pair moved down the block, each taking up a position across the street on opposite ends of the house.
Hampton was the first to arrive in his carriage, with Carpenter in tow. Burke supposed the vehicle would convey Carpenter back to his home and then return and wait for the earl to appear.
A typical London drizzle began and fog rolled in, limiting his vision. Another twenty minutes passed and a hansom cab trotted to a stop. Burke strained to see who disembarked. The man was tall and painfully thin, with an awkward gait, as if he had a slight limp. His hat sank low on his brow, keeping his hair hidden. He quickly gained admittance to the house. Burke hoped he could better see the man’s face as he came out but he thought from his tall, ungainly frame and walk that he could pick him out. He would start watching the members of White’s to see if the man held membership there.
The clock struck midnight when a plain black carriage stopped in front of the Crawford abode. A footman assisted a large man from it, a massive black umbrella in his hand. The servant held it over his master. Between the footman and the umbrella, the man’s face was totally obstructed. Burke only had the impression of the man who sought entrance to the meeting.
After that, no others arrived. The rain came down in sheets now, chilling him. He longed for a roaring fire and a hot bath and a very warm, very naked Gemma waiting for him in his bed.
He muttered a low curse and pushed that thought from his head. He needed to stay sharp. Daydreaming of ways to enjoy Gemma and her lush curves couldn’t take precedence over tonight’s mission.
Three-quarters of an hour later, the door swung open. Burke signaled to Jones to return and bring around the carriage. The agent disappeared from view after only a few feet along the pavement.
Because the fog lingered, Burke decided to be bold and crossed the street for a better view. He spied Carpenter coming out with the gaunt man. This time, he got a good look at the man’s face and knew he’d be able to recognize him if they met up. The pair went to Hampton’s carriage and boarded it.
Only the plain black coach remained. Anticipation grew within Burke. The front door opened again and the footman, who’d returned to the vehicle, raced back up. He raised the umbrella and escorted his master to the carriage, once again blocking Burke’s view of the man’s face. Frustrated, Burke began walking quickly down the sidewalk. Half a minute later, the carriage passed him and then he ran the remaining way to his own.
“Follow that carriage,” Burke called to Jones as he climbed up beside him.
The driver snapped his wrists and the horses sprang into action.
“Shouldn’t you be inside the coach, Mr. Nicholson?”
“Normally, I’d agree but the fog’s so thick I doubt anyone will spy me up here. And I don’t want to lose sight of our mystery man. Were you able to glimpse his face?”
“No. Only Carpenter’s and the profile of the skinny fellow.”
“I got a quick glance at him as he left. I can identify him—just as soon as I know where to look. Oh, the skinny one rode away with Carpenter in Hampton’s carriage. Try to chat up one of Carpenter’s servants tomorrow to see if you can learn his name.”
“What will you be doing?” Jones asked, turning the corner a distance after the mystery carriage.
“I’ll return and follow the cook and servant girl to market again. I’ve a crown to give the girl and will see if she heard anything while serving them. I doubt they would be indiscreet before her but you never know.”
“If they were drinking, loose lips might have occurred,” Jones noted.
“They were in there less than an hour,” Burke countered. “But I suppose they could have been drinking before they arrived. Something tells me they weren’t. I would have noticed it in their gaits.”
He squinted, trying to see the vehicle in front of them, and said, “Close the gap.”
“You don’t want your carriage noted. Your horses do stand out in a crowd.”
“See Smith tomorrow. Tell him we need a plain hansom cab at our disposal. You can drive me around in it during our after-hour jaunts.”
“All right.”
“Hurry,” Burke urged. “They’re pulling too far away. We’ll lose them.”
Suddenly, another carriage came from the left, turning in front of them and swerving. It came to a halt so they had to, as well.
“Get around it if you can,”
Burke called as he jumped to the ground and took off, racing after the man they followed.
He ran a good three blocks but the fog had swallowed up the vehicle. It could have turned down any of the numerous side streets or outrun him. Burke walked back to his own carriage, which was just now being able to maneuver around the careless one that had pulled out in front of them.
“Lost them,” he said to Jones before he climbed into the compartment and sprawled on the seat.
Burke ran through his day tomorrow. Following the girl to the market was of chief importance. Then he wanted to try to meet with Hampton’s and Melton’s former mistresses if he could find out Elise’s last name. If he could, he would also seek out Melton’s new mistress, Anne Carraway. He also thought about calling on Hampton’s daughter, to see if she had anything of interest to share with him regarding her father. He was reluctant to do that, however. Having been discovered in the earl’s study while embracing another woman, calling on said earl’s daughter might not be wise. Instead, he decided to seek the chit out at tomorrow night’s ball. Somewhere in-between all of that, he needed to stop by White’s and look for the man whose face he’d seen.
First and foremost, though, was his breakfast meeting with Gemma.
The best part of every day.
Chapter Fourteen
Gemma listened to Burke as he provided details regarding his and Jones’ night outside Selina Crawford’s house. Lord Hampton and Lord Carpenter were there as Burke had expected. Two other men had arrived, one whom Burke had seen clearly and the other a shadow hidden by his servant and a large umbrella. She heard the frustration in Burke’s voice as he described chasing after the black coach as it escaped into the fog.
“Don’t fret,” she told him. “You learned quite a bit from your source. You know it’s the second time Lord Hampton has used Mrs. Crawford’s house for a meeting he obviously didn’t want to hold elsewhere. That Viscount Carpenter is somehow involved. You have a good description of the third man you seek. And I’m sure you’ll follow up and talk with the maid today to see if she heard anything of value.”
“She’s worried about losing her position,” he said. “I tried to convince her she wasn’t doing anything against her employer but she’s a bit skittish.”
“If she finds herself out of work, send her to me,” Gemma said. “Joanie could use some help. It would merely be another misfit who joined my staff.”
His brows arched. “Misfits?”
“Yes. None of my three employees previously held a position similar to the ones they do in my household. They’re a rather odd lot that I helped remove from some difficult situations. They are learning, though, and are extremely loyal to me.”
“I feel Bosley wants to shoot me every time he opens the door. And he towers over me by several inches. He’s a bit intimidating,” Burke admitted.
“Mr. Bosley is a pussycat,” Gemma said. “He was very unhappy and now he is quite satisfied with his work for me. He is a bit protective, though.”
“Are you going to work on your new cipher today?”
“Not until later. I’m to take the young Lady Covington to a modiste.”
“I noticed her gown last night was woefully inadequate.”
Gemma crinkled her nose. He would be the type of man to notice what every woman wore. He looked like a rogue. He acted like a rogue.
He certainly kissed like a rogue.
The thought of his kiss caused her to warm and she slathered more marmalade on her toast point before taking a healthy bite of it.
Burke told her he needed to leave. He’d provided a list of the places and people he wanted to see during the day and she knew he would have a busy day.
“Then I will see you at the Parkers’ ball tonight,” she told him.
“Save a waltz for me.”
Gemma cocked her head. “I might,” she said coquettishly.
“Don’t go flirting with me,” he warned, a teasing look in his eye.
“I don’t need to flirt with you,” she said airily. “It’s other men I need to practice on. Especially if I’m to get any kind of information from them.”
Burke had risen and he stepped toward her. His large hand went around the nape of her neck. His thumb stroked her throat, sending a shiver through her.
“Be careful, Gemma,” he said, his brow creasing in concern. “You don’t want to court danger. I’d be happier if you just listened to conversations and helped me conduct the occasional search. Which won’t be necessary tonight since Lord Parker is squeaky clean.”
“I will always be careful,” she said. “I don’t want to wind up like Rob.”
Her words made him flinch and his hand fell away. She felt awful having caused him pain but he nodded brusquely and left the room before she could apologize.
An hour later, the Earl of Covington’s carriage arrived and Gemma allowed the footman to hand her up. Lady Covington sat looking both nervous and excited.
“Could I call you Gemma?” she asked the moment Gemma settled herself on the seat across from the countess. “I mean . . . we are family, in a way, with our husbands being cousins and all. And both of us being Lady Covington is a bit confusing. And you’re so confident and graceful. I want to be you. Maybe we could be as sisters?”
“I would be happy for you to address me as Gemma,” she said, though at twenty-four, she felt old enough to be this girl’s mother, her life experiences adding to her age.
“You must call me Aggie. And Sidney must be Sidney. He is dining with Lord Lawrey at White’s today. I’m so happy you introduced us to the Lawreys.”
“They are a lovely couple. I’m sure you and your husband will make many friends during the Season.”
They arrived at the modiste. Gemma had sent a note to her first thing this morning, and Madame Bertrand had sent a quick reply just before the carriage arrived. Gemma was thankful she had, else she wouldn’t have known where to take Aggie this morning.
Entering the shop, the Frenchwoman came and kissed Gemma’s cheeks.
“And who is this little sprite?” she asked.
“This is the Countess of Covington,” Gemma replied, noting the slight arch in the shop owner’s brows as the woman surmised exactly who the stranger was. “She and the earl are participating in their first Season. She must have some of your creations, Madame, since nothing from her Lincolnshire home holds a candle to your work.”
With that, Gemma recommended colors she thought might suit Aggie and Madame Bertrand showed them both various bolts of material. Gemma approved several and the modiste recommended a few other choices, as well.
“Come to the dressing room with me, Lady Covington. My assistant and I will measure you. I suppose you need undergarments as well?”
Aggie looked to Gemma and she nodded.
“Yes, Madame,” Aggie said meekly, and the two women left.
Gemma stood to wander the shop and realized someone else was present—and looking at her with undisguised interest.
The woman was close to thirty and possessed flawless skin. Her brown hair was a rich, vibrant color and her figure stunning. Gemma had never seen her at any ton event and wondered why.
“You are Lady Covington,” the woman said with self-assurance. “The dowager countess.”
“Yes, but you have me at a disadvantage. Have we met? If so, I cannot recall our meeting.”
Amusement flickered across her face. “No. We haven’t met. We wouldn’t.” She paused and looked at Gemma with a sly look that made her uncomfortable. “I am Mrs. Crawford. Mrs. Selina Crawford. Lord Hampton told me how he stumbled upon your passionate encounter with Mr. Nicholson.”
Gemma felt her cheeks heat but held her head high, her dignity intact. “I hadn’t known the earl to be a gossip.”
The courtesan chuckled. “Oh, there are many things you wouldn’t know about Hampton. He is a man of . . . unusual tastes. Don’t worry, Lady Covington. He wouldn’t share what he’d seen with his wife. They rarely speak. He ju
st found the situation amusing.”
“And shared it with you.”
Her eyes gleamed. “Yes. With me. You see, we are quite close.”
She stared back at the woman, not showing she felt intimidated by her. “I’ve heard you’re now Lord Hampton’s paramour. And Lord Melton’s before. No, wait. That was Elise. I heard Melton gifted her with an emerald necklace. I suppose you hope Lord Hampton will be as generous when your time is done.”
Gemma tossed out the name to get a rise from this woman but also to see if she could find a surname for Elise.
Mrs. Crawford sniffed. “Elise Martin cannot hold a candle to me.” She studied Gemma. “You, though, could be quite successful in my profession. Should you ever consider trying it.”
“Why would I? As the widow of an earl, I have enough money so as not to depend upon any man. And I can take a lover anytime I wish. I don’t have to depend upon his generosity—as women such as you do.”
“Touché, my lady. You’re quick with your tongue. I’m sure you know how to please a man in bed with it.”
Gemma felt a hot blush spilling across her cheeks.
“I’ve heard Mr. Nicholson is quite handsome, even with only one eye. If you tire of him, send him my way.”
With that, Selina Crawford left the shop.
*
Gemma rode with Sidney and Aggie to the Parkers’ ball. After they’d gone through the receiving line, she led them about the ballroom, introducing them to several people. Already, she was growing fond of the young pair and saw others were taken with their sweetness. She left them with the Lawreys and made her way to visit with others, even speaking to William briefly. He’d come for tea this afternoon and they’d enjoyed an hour reminiscing about the old days with Rob. She promised him the supper dance.
As she stood with two friends, she saw Burke approaching and her heart skipped a beat. He looked distinguished in his black evening clothes, his ever-present eyepatch lending him that roguish aura that made him look slightly dangerous. No, more than slightly. Gemma knew from being alone with him just how risky it could be.