by Aston, Alexa
Burke thrust deeply and she cried out, her nails digging into his back. Immediately, he stilled. He tore his lips from hers. She thought she read an accusation in his eye. The pain that had ripped her apart had vanished as quickly as it had come, while that burning throb demanded action. Instinctively, her hips rose. He frowned and she thrust against him again. She worried that she was doing something terribly wrong and was about to ask him when he met her as she attempted to move again.
Something delicious occurred.
They both repeated their actions and soon began a slow dance of temptation. Burke continued kissing her deeply, one hand tangled in her hair, the other slipping between them. He pushed his finger between them, teasing the nub as before. The pace of their dance increased, becoming frantic, as Burke thrust into her and Gemma met him each time. Sensations built within her as they both flew out of control. Her moans became cries and she called his name, over and over.
Then the wave crested again within her and she laughed as pleasure washed over her.
Burke withdrew and something warm touched her belly. His weight came off her and he slipped from the bed. She looked down and saw something white and creamy against her skin. He retrieved a handkerchief and wiped it from her, carefully wadding it up and setting it on the nightstand.
His face was solemn as he lay on his side, draping a leg over her, heat still radiating from him. He pushed her hair back and stared at her a long moment.
“You were a virgin. That’s why it hurt.”
She bit her lip. “I didn’t know you’d be able to tell that.”
He gave her an odd look. “I broke through your maidenhead, Gemma.”
She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t exactly know what this is. My mother passed away when I was very young. I’ve had no one tell me anything.”
His hand fisted in her hair. “Not even your husband?”
Gemma winced. “No. Rob and I didn’t talk about it.”
Burke shook his head in disbelief, relaxing his hold on her. “How can this be? I spent months in The Don’s company. In close quarters. I never had an inkling of an aversion to women.”
“No, Rob didn’t find women repugnant. If anything, he enjoyed being around them because he wasn’t in competition for them. He just didn’t want to be with a woman . . . in that way.”
“I don’t see how he could hide something like that. Why I never suspected a thing.”
“He learned to do so very early,” she said quietly. “He knew British society saw it as unnatural. That if caught in flagrante delicto that he would hang. Once, he spoke of moving to France, where they had changed their laws and it was no longer a crime.” Gemma sighed. “Rob worked extra hard to succeed at masculine tasks. He rode well and was a terrific shot. He boxed regularly through university. I don’t think anyone, other than me, ever knew his truth.”
Burke looked at her thoughtfully. “Did he ever kiss you?”
“No. It was never like that between us.”
“Yet you married him.”
Anger simmered within her. “I had to. My father was going to marry me off.”
Burke frowned. “To the very ancient Lord Willows. You told me that before.”
“Yes. I begged Rob to marry me to prevent that from happening. We were the best of friends. We understood one another. Marrying Rob gave me my freedom. I could escape my father’s house and not be forced into a marriage I didn’t want.”
He smoothed her hair and then stroked her cheek. “What would have happened if he’d come home from war?”
“We would have been happy. We got along so well. We would have entertained. Then he could go see his . . . friends.”
“And you? What of children?”
She shrugged. “Not every woman has them.”
“Did you ever kiss another man?”
“No,” she admitted. “Not until you.”
A satisfied smile curved his beautiful mouth.
“You don’t have to smile so annoyingly.”
His brows rose. “I annoy you?”
“Sometimes,” she teased.
“When don’t I annoy you?” he asked seductively.
“When you kiss me. When you touch me.”
His thumb brushed against her lower lip. “Then I suppose I’ll need to do either of those soon.”
“Both,” she suggested.
“You drive a hard bargain, Gemma Covington. It’s a good thing kissing and touching you are my two favorite things in the world.”
With that, Burke made love to her again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gemma stood in a group at the Phillips’ ball, giving up on trying to follow the conversation around her. Every thought returned to yesterday, when Burke had made love to her twice. The second time had been even better than the first. He’d been passionate yet tender toward her and she discovered having her maidenhead breached meant no more pain during the act itself. He’d spilled his seed outside her body again, explaining to her that’s the way a baby was made. She felt foolish, being her age and not knowing of such matters.
He’d dressed without a word and then kissed her goodbye, no more declarations of love coming from him. She knew he must concentrate on the mission ahead but could only be grateful for what had passed between them. That was the only reason she’d kept silent regarding her feelings for him.
At tonight’s ball, word had spread rapidly of Sir Paxton Morris’ death earlier today from a heart attack. It was said Lady Morris was in deep mourning for her beloved husband and had already taken his body back to their country estate for burial. She would remain there the rest of the Season. Gossips wondered who would replace Sir Paxton in the War Office and Gemma cringed hearing her father’s name bandied about. She had little to no contact with him and had no idea he’d risen so high within the organization in order to be considered Sir Paxton’s replacement.
Gemma excused herself and went to the retiring room and decided the ball had lost all appeal to her. She thought to leave until she saw Lord Hampton and Lord Melton exiting the ballroom. She followed them at a distance to the Philipps’ conservatory and slipped in after them. Moonlight lit the hothouse and she huddled in the shadows, hoping to hear something that might be useful to Burke. She knew he was deeply involved with the turncoats now, having supposedly committed murder for the group. Now they had their hooks in him. She wondered what else they might ask of him.
The pair had stopped close to where she crouched and she held her breath as she eavesdropped on their conversation.
“Obviously, he came through for us,” Lord Hampton said. “I think his value is great.”
“I’m not sure I trust him,” Lord Melton said. “There is something unnerving about him, looking at me with that one eye.”
Hampton chuckled. “Nicholson losing his eye was the best thing that could’ve happened to him because it brought him to us. At tonight’s meeting, I want to task him with another killing.”
“Who?” Melton asked pointedly.
The other man laughed. “It’s time we up our game and kill the prime minister.”
Melton sucked in a quick breath. “Spencer Perceval? You think to give that task to Nicholson?”
“I do. Either he’ll accomplish it or he won’t. We’ll see.”
“One of Carpenter’s men intercepted a note from Lady Morris to Nicholson,” Melton said. “It confirmed that her husband was dead and alluded to something between her and our new friend.”
“See?” Hampton said.
“The prime minister is different,” pointed out Melton. “Nicholson had access to Morris through his wife.”
A long pause occurred and Gemma prayed she hadn’t been discovered, fearful of what they would do to her.
Then Hampton said, “It doesn’t have to be an accident. He doesn’t have to find someone close to Perceval to seduce. If he’s truly willing to die for our cause, he will act in public. In fact, I’ll insist upon it.”
“And if he isn’
t?” countered Melton. “What if he turns us down tonight?”
“Then we will eliminate him at once. If he’s caught, he’ll hang for Perceval’s assassination. If he’s lucky enough to escape notice, I’ll have Brandon deal with him so there’ll be no loose ends.”
“You are a sly one, Hampton.”
“I am,” the earl confirmed.
Gemma shivered at the words, knowing Burke was a dead man, no matter what. He couldn’t assassinate a public figure and even if some great pretense happened to make it seem as if he did, these rebels to the crown would murder him, regardless.
She heard their footsteps recede and knew she had to get to Burke. She had to warn him.
She had to save the man she loved.
*
Burke sat in the library, going through what he would tell the others tonight. It was imperative that he learn the mystery man’s identity. The agents who followed the traitors after Burke left their company after the last meeting had been thwarted by a clever plan. All five conspirators piled into the plain, unmarked carriage awaiting them outside Mrs. Crawford’s place and took off for Hyde Park. The agents surrounding the house tried to follow on foot and those stationed in hansom cabs nearby went after the carriage as planned.
When the carriage reached the park, however, it would have been too obvious it was being followed with the grounds deserted in the wee hours of the morning. Because of that, the hansom cabs were abandoned and those agents tried to keep up on foot. Only one managed to be fast enough to reach the middle of the park, where four of the men spilled from the vehicle, all going different ways, as the mystery man sped away.
Smith told Burke it was up to him to discover the man’s identity. They couldn’t close in on the group and arrest anyone until they knew the name of every party involved. As far as Sir Paxton went, he had been taken from his residence in a pine box at noon, his grieving widow following after, her hand stroking the wood. The coffin had been loaded into a wagon and Lady Morris into a carriage by crown agents. Once outside London, Lady Morris continued to their country estate, with a brief stop. Sir Paxton was let out of his box on the grounds where Burke had taught Gemma how to shoot a pistol and then the wagon continued on, following Lady Morris.
Sir Paxton now waited at the estate and would give the word when to close in for arrests. It all depended upon Burke, though. He had to come through.
A knock sounded at the door and his butler entered.
“A message delivered for you, Mr. Nicholson.” The servant passed the parchment to Burke.
“Thank you.’
He waited for the butler to leave before he opened it. Scanning the contents, he saw that tonight’s meeting place had been changed from Selina Crawford’s place to Burke’s own townhouse. He held the note to a nearby candle flame until it was no more and then left the room. Finding his butler, Burke said, “I’m expecting several guests for a meeting. Bring them directly to the library without announcing them. Is that understood?”
“Of course, Mr. Nicholson.”
Burke returned to the library. Since the clock now struck half-past eleven, he had no way to get word to anyone that the Crawford place would yield no meeting.
He was on his own.
He longed to think of his encounter with Gemma yesterday. It stunned him when he discovered she was a virgin, yet it pleased him he had been her first. He’d spent the entire day exhilarated after leaving her. She had been everything he could hope for—and much, much more—which made it all the more bittersweet that he could never have her for good.
The door to the library opened and shock rippled through him when Gemma entered. Burke rose and met her, his hands clasping hers, which were cold to the touch.
“What are you doing here? You have to leave at once. My meeting was moved from Mrs. Crawford’s to here. I only learned of the change moments ago. They can’t find you here.”
“I had to come,” she said, desperation clearly written on her lovely features. “They’re going to kill you, Burke.”
His insides went cold. “When? Tonight? How do you know?”
“I overheard a conversation between Lord Hampton and Lord Melton less than an hour ago.”
“You don’t think they meant for you to overhear it?” he accused. “Just as I’ve tried to feed them false information, they may be trying to do the same, especially if they don’t trust me.”
“No,” she assured him. “They met in the Philipps’ conservatory tonight. I followed them.”
“Why would you risk doing so? If they discovered you . . .” His voice trailed off, the thought of harm coming to Gemma too difficult to voice.
“I did it because I was worried about you, Burke. And because . . . I love you.”
He knew she had—and yet she’d never spoken the words aloud, not even when they’d made love. He kissed her, knowing it might be the last one they ever shared.
Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and again asked, “When?”
“Tonight, they will order you to assassinate Prime Minister Perceval.”
“What?” Her words chilled him. Pulling off the hoax of Morris’ death had been difficult enough. Trying to orchestrate the pretend death of Britain’s prime minister would be impossible.
“They want to up the ante. I supposed they think the prime minister’s death, coupled with Sir Paxton’s, will throw the government into chaos. Who knows if they’ll try to kill anyone else? It wouldn’t surprise me if they targeted the Prince of Wales—or even King George next.”
“How do you know they want me dead?”
“They said they will order you to murder Perceval and that it need not look like an accident. They prefer it occurs in public. If you are true to their cause, you won’t mind sacrificing yourself for it. If you’re caught, they know you’ll hang for the crime. If by any means you escape detection, they consider you a loose end and will eliminate you, all the same.”
“And if refuse to do it?”
She looked at him sadly. “You’ll be marked for instant death.”
He cupped her cheek. “Thank you for coming, Gemma. For telling me. For putting yourself at risk.”
He kissed her again, slow and sweet, wishing things could be different. That he could build a life with this woman. He had to get her out, though. Now. Before the traitors arrived.
Burke broke the kiss and glanced to the door, which was opening. Melton and Brandon entered the room and both men tensed immediately.
Melton said, “What is she doing here?”
He gave the earl his most charming smile. “Lady Covington and I had our own private meeting this evening. I wasn’t aware of the change in venue until a few moments ago when I read your note. She’s leaving now.” He looked at Gemma, who appeared wide-eyed and innocent.
“You will come to me tomorrow night, won’t you, Burke?” She slid her nail seductively along his chest.
“I’ll see what I can do, Gemma,” he said, noncommittally.
“But Burke, you promised,” she whined, sounding very believable.
“I may be going out of town but you know I will come to you when I can.”
Giving him a pretty pout, she said, “Oh, all right.”
“My driver will take you home. I’ll escort you to him.”
Burke pushed them past Melton and saw Hampton and Carpenter had entered the room during their conversation.
Hampton frowned deeply.
As they reached the earl, Burke said, “Don’t look at me in such judgment, Hampton. Not when you always have a mistress or two about.”
“Get your sidepiece out of here now,” Hampton demanded.
He and Gemma reached the door just as it opened again. The final guest had arrived. Gemma’s fingers tightened painfully on his arm.
“What is she doing here?” the mystery man demanded, rage seething from him.
“I’m leaving after a wonderfully long lovemaking session with my latest lover, Father. Why are you here?”
Chapt
er Twenty-Six
Gemma’s heart pounded fiercely as her father stared at her wordlessly. She held her head high but wilted within. Never had she been betrayed in such a horrible manner before. And it wasn’t the fact that her father had turned Judas against his own country.
It was that Burke had known Sir William Barton was a part of the rebels—and he’d kept it from her.
She thought back to Burke arriving at her doorstep yesterday with words of love on his treacherous lips. He didn’t love her. He came to use her. To see if she knew anything of her father’s activities with this group of traitors. If he truly loved her, he would have been honest and told her of her father’s involvement. Instead, he’d pretended to care for her. Taken her virginity. He must have realized he would get nothing useful out of her since she hadn’t spoken after their encounter. And here she’d risked her life to come to him. Warn him that his life was in danger.
Now, her life was on the line instead. Her father was a hard man. He wouldn’t take kindly to finding his daughter here in the midst of rebellion.
“Why is she here, Nicholson?” her father asked again, ignoring Gemma as he looked to Burke.
“Gemma and I have been keeping company off and on,” Burke said casually. “As she said, we were together tonight. I only learned our meeting would occur here a few minutes ago, after our bed sport.” He stopped to cup her cheek and she saw the warning in his eye. “Be a good girl now. My driver will take you home,” he said dismissively.
“No,” Sir William said.
She still had hold of Burke’s arm and could feel him tense beneath her fingers.
“Why not?” he asked easily. “It’s not as if we have need of her. Go on, Gemma,” Burke urged, steel in his voice.