by Tamara Gill
Edward tsked. “I think you’re spending too much time on this business of hunting Thomas’s killer. Between the work you’ve done tracking Countavia’s anti-monarchists, and now this, you’re worn out.”
“I don’t need your thoughts on the matter, thank you.” What he didn’t need was Kitty’s total confiscation of his sanity.
He ran his palms over the thighs of his gray trousers. “I might have agreed to Catherine filling the position on my team, but I need you as well.”
“What can I do?”
“Take another look into what Thomas was dealing with when he was killed. Maybe there’s something in his diaries or other notes. He never gave me the last report he was supposed to turn in.”
“I’ll find out what I can.” Edward claimed the chair next to Alex. “Are you coming to the celebration tomorrow night? Father said just this morning that he is looking forward to Weatherback’s marking its one-hundredth year of having remained female-free. Of course Mother didn’t share Father’s sentiments. She boldly commented that men will forever be boys and that if we can take such great pleasure in so small a feat, then that alone described the lack of intelligence among our sex.”
Alex laughed. “Mother is right.”
“Of course she’s right. But I had no intention of telling her. I’m looking forward to the party as Father said he is lending the club Boticelli’s never documented portrait of King Jean-Luc, painted in Florence in 1475. I have begged him to show me that portrait for at least the last ten years, but he’s refused. Insisted it must only come out on the rarest of occasions in order to continue to preserve it.” Edward relaxed. “So, will you be joining us?”
“It depends. If I can talk Kitty out of becoming a member of my team, early enough, then I’ll be here.”
Edward’s lips curled upward. “Choose a vulgar act and she’ll cave in a matter of minutes.”
He wasn’t certain his Catherine was that feeble. “And how do you know this?” He rolled his head to his right to stare at Eddie.
“I may not have a mistress at the moment, but when I had, and I cared to spend the night in the hells rather than in her bed, I suggested the most lewd act I could think of and it solved the problem on the instant.”
Alex chuckled. “That’s cruel. Not to mention beyond crude.”
“True, but it worked. Of course it also did lose me my last mistress, so perhaps you shouldn’t drudge up the darkest thought you can think of.” He paused. “The darn woman wouldn’t even let me explain. I was willing to come clean once I realized my mistake, but the damage had already been done. She even dared to compare me to that disgusting de Sade.”
Now that he found seriously funny. “You are no Sade. You didn’t even have your first mistress until you were the old age of…”
A footman tapped Alex on the shoulder.
He turned away from Edward and glanced up at the man, the young pup’s face looking white as a ghost. “Yes?”
“Forgive me, Your Royal Highness, but you have a guest who insists on seeing you.”
“Who?”
“No name has been given, sir.”
“Well, see the man up.”
The footman fidgeted, twisted his hands one over the other.
“Good God, what has you in such tatters?”
The footman didn’t answer.
Edward huffed. “Mayhap it is the Devil finally coming to collect us.”
Alex shot him a glare, then looked back to the poor servant who by now had a brow dotted with beads of sweat.
The man continued. “I fear your guest barged in. Pushed the door right open and completely crossed the threshold. I tried with all my might to stop the incident once I realized my error, but I was no match for your guest.”
The footman made no sense whatsoever. “I’m sure there must be more to this story, but I for one am lost.” Alex rose and turned around.
And instantly froze.
“So here you are,” Kitty said, crossing the room, her petite feet donning a pair of Hessians that made the hem of her gown swish as she shuffled over the Aubusson carpet acting as if she had every right to frolic at Weatherback’s. “This is the third club I’ve searched tonight.”
His reputation was sure to be ruined by morning.
“Aww…Christ,” Edward said. “There goes my chance at viewing Boticelli’s Jean-Luc.”
“What are you doing here?” Alex asked, his mind as muddled as a pool of deepest silt.
“Looking for you.”
“We’ve established that, Catherine. But why?”
Kitty pulled out the pocket watch dangling from the fob clasped on the ribbon at her waist. She clicked it open. “It’s half-past one, Your Royal Highness. You’re an hour and a half late for picking me up for my training.”
***
The gods of sleep obviously had no mercy on him, letting him doze off for so long. Alex turned to the hyperventilating footman. “Have my carriage brought round. Immediately.”
The man hurried from the room.
Alex reached for Kitty’s arm and quickly ushered her out of the salon, through the hallway, down the flight of stairs, across the front door’s threshold and out onto the street where he promptly remembered holding his breath could kill him.
He sucked in a deep gulp of night’s cool air.
“You didn’t bid Edward goodnight,” Kitty said.
“Trust me, I’m certain he’ll understand. Even welcome my haste of an exit.”
“Did you two argue?”
“No.”
“Did Edward do something to upset you?” Kitty gave up the most innocent look ever.
Damn him to hell. The little minx truly hadn’t realized her sin.
“No,” he said. “My brother did not do something to upset me.” But you did. Which was a statement he most certainly could not blurt out without risking upsetting Kitty. And upsetting Kitty would probably only prompt the woman to go back into the club and apologize, or heaven forbid, protest the fact that women were not allowed at Weatherback’s. His fellow rogues were going to be mightily pissed once word got out that thanks to him, Weatherback’s ages-old tradition had been completely trampled upon tonight.
Alex’s carriage pulled to a stop in front of him.
A footman opened the door and stood to the side so Kitty could climb into the cab.
The club’s manager came up from behind Alex. “Forgive, Your Royal Highness,” the man said, “but the Board of Weatherback’s requests you do not return. Ever.”
Kitty promptly turned around, one hand on the carriage door, the other gripping its roof. “I do say, sir. Are you aware that this is not just any Countavian prince, but Prince Alexander, King Bertram’s own son?”
Alex cringed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get in the carriage, Catherine.”
“I most certainly will not.” Kitty bounded back down the two steps and planted her boot-covered feet firmly on the sidewalk. She stepped right up to the manager. “I demand to know your name, sir.”
“Dirksbee. As in the Duke of Dirksbee.”
“Well, Your Grace, if the Board of Weatherback’s has blackballed His Royal Highness—a feat I find quite impossible since it has only been mere moments since our haste retreat—no man can cast a vote that quick—to never return, then perhaps said board members should tell him in person.”
“Catherine….”
Kitty ignored him. “What offense has Prince Alexander committed? The man is the most decent human being I have ever encountered. I cannot believe he would even have it in him to do something as to insult your hoity-toity board.”
The duke remained calm. “Forgive me, Miss….”
“Culpepper,” Kitty answered.
“I assure you, Miss Culpepper, His Royal Highness has committed no offense. You have.”
Kitty quirked one blond eyebrow. “How so?”
“You, Miss Culpepper, are the first woman ever to invade Weatherback’s.”
“I find tha
t hard to believe. I’m sure any number of wives or mistresses have at one time or another come looking for their significant other at your establishment.”
“They have indeed,” the manager said. “But none have ever been so wicked as to cross its threshold.”
“Well,” Kitty said, a tad bit flustered based on the deepening pink hue overtaking her lovely cheeks. “Even so. I do not see why my sins should be carried by His Royal Highness. Now you march right back inside your dratted waste of a club and tell its equally dratted waste of a board that His Royal Highness most certainly is not blackballed.”
“I’m afraid it does not work that way, Miss Culpepper.” The manager tipped his hat, then turned around and headed back up the club’s walkway.
“We really should get on,” Alex said, motioning his hand toward the carriage.
“I’m not leaving until your membership is reinstated.”
“There are other clubs. Weatherback’s isn’t the only establishment I frequent.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Please, Kitty, I’ve had enough for one night. I don’t have it in me to fight about this. I’m exhausted as it is.”
With a bit of a huff, and with what Alex was certain was a mumbled curse rolling off her bold tongue, Kitty straightened her back, turned around and climbed into the carriage.
Thank goodness the ride to Kisswyck Abbey would give him an hour’s peace.
Chapter Six
Fifteen minutes of riding in silence was enough to drive even the primmest and most proper of ladies into the harrowing depths of lunacy. For Kitty, it was akin to the earth opening and her falling into Hell.
She snapped Thomas’s pocket watch closed.
Had enough my arse.
Alex may very well desire the peace and quiet of a silent woman tonight, but if the man expected her to keep mum the whole ride to God-knows-where, he was about to be sorely displeased.
Starting this very instant.
“That insulant Dirksbee deserved a tongue lashing,” she said, her gaze focused on the changing landscape as the carriage rolled out of the city.
A slight snore greeted her words.
She glanced across at Alex who was fast asleep.
How could he doze off now when he was on verge of getting the best assassin his team had ever had?
Well, maybe she wasn’t the best, but she wasn’t totally useless with a blade. Combine that with whatever training Alex was about to give her, and in a few days’ time, she would be the best his team had.
She checked the dagger in the leather scabbard at her side. Thomas had taught her to be quick with a blade, hammering into her head that one should never hesitate to act when faced with danger. She imagined Thomas’s training will help her in tracking down his killer.
A second snore, louder than the first, interrupted her thoughts.
Apparently, her prince really had had enough for one night, which was not what she cared to realize as the thought only served to send her soul spiraling into guilt.
She frowned.
One way or another, she was going to make the miserable Dirksbee see things her way and reinstate Alex at the club. Or better yet, maybe it was time for the duke to be blackballed.
Kitty smiled to herself.
She may be of the fairer sex, but thanks to Thomas’s respectable place in society, she was more than merely just an acquaintance of the wives and mothers of Weatherback’s board members. The majority of those women were members of her own club—the nagging gossip keepers of Landon. And if there was one thing most men could not tolerate, it was a nagging wife or mother. Of course being stuck in a carriage at the moment would delay her little scheme. But once Thomas’s killer was found, she’d turn her focus to that frightfully despicable club and set its men straight. Weatherback’s didn’t know what was coming.
Banning women for a century.
Poppycock.
The carriage turned, forcing Kitty to sway slightly to one side.
She wondered where Alex was taking her. Secrecy was imperative to covert missions, of that she agreed, but keeping her in the dark over the location of her training when Alex hadn’t even bothered blindfolding her or pulling the shades down on the carriage windows, was ridiculous.
Maybe he thought the darkness alone would shield her from learning the route to his secret locale. But the moon was bright tonight. Its glow blanketing the trees and vast fields with a brilliant hue of silver.
Kitty marveled at the moonlit scenery as Alex’s carriage ventured out of Landon and into the countryside. It wasn’t often that she’d had the opportunity to travel at night. Even when Thomas was alive, despite him having shared a large part of his dangerous world with her, she hadn’t been allowed long trips after sundown.
She leaned her head against the window’s frame.
Across the carriage, Alex remained asleep, his long legs looking most uncomfortably squished in the small space allotted them. The tips of his boots nudged her feet.
Kitty hiked up her gown, freed her calves to part and accommodate her prince’s muscular limbs.
A rush of exhilaration claimed her nerves.
Licking her lips, the sudden urge to stand and settle herself in Alex’s lap overwhelmed Kitty’s better sense.
She didn’t care that the thought was improper. Nor did it disturb her that the need to act on the want was a craving so deep, she knew it would not ease until satisfaction had been met.
She stared at Alex. A mix of shadow and light silhouetted his features as a moonbeam cut across the carriage’s interior.
A flick of light bounced off the silver buttons of his coat.
She liked ogling the man. From his bulging biceps that his garments did nothing to conceal, to his broad chest that she wanted nothing more than to free from its restrictive coverings, to the Adam’s apple at his throat that now lay exposed thanks the slightly askew cravat that graced his neck.
Her breath caught.
Devil be damned.
She inched forward, scooted her arse to the seat’s edge.
The steady rhythm of turning carriage wheels kissed her ears.
Leaning toward Alex, Kitty sucked in a deep breath, a mix of lemon and spice filling her lungs.
A soft moan escaped her prince’s slightly parted lips.
Her tongue craved to taste those lips. In fact, she craved to taste all of Alex, from his mouth to his muscled chest, right down to the bulge between his legs that his gray trousers failed to hide.
Just an inch more and she’d sate her longing.
The carriage jolted.
Kitty flew forward, landed swiftly on top of her strong prince.
Alex didn’t say a word.
Nor did he offer a groan as she’d imagined a common man startled from sleep would.
But Alex was no commoner.
Her magnificent prince merely wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. So close, his lips brushed hers as his tongue invaded her mouth.
She saw no reason to deny Alex. In truth, refusing him a kiss now seemed silly considering her most private parts were fully exposed to his lap, her gown having lifted to her waist in the carriage’s sudden jerk.
Alex slid his hand down Kitty’s back.
She moaned.
The heat from her prince’s bulky arms seeped into her skin and set her nerves afire.
A slight little whine escaped her mouth.
Without so much as a single word, Alex obliged Kitty further by drawing his hand over her thigh’s bare flesh.
She doubted she could take much more.
Then her Alex did the unthinkable and deftly stroked her nether lips.
She quivered.
He inched his fingers deeper into her secretive parts.
She spread her legs wider, scooted herself closer to Alexander’s wicked hand.
His fingers sought her most vulnerable spot.
Kitty lifted her lips from Alexander’s mouth, breaking their kiss. She star
ed into his deep brown eyes.
He didn’t move.
Nor did he push her away.
Instead, Alex continued his wicked assault upon her clit. First with soft strokes, then with a firmer touch. The whole while he kept his gaze locked on hers.
Kitty reached for the fall on Alex’s trousers and undid the top button.
Alex quickly stopped her. “This isn’t right, Catherine.” Holding her firmly, he straightened his back against the seat and then pulled her gown over her legs.
Her shoulders slouched. “I don’t see why we should wait. Not when it’s a given that we will marry.”
“I don’t want our first time to be in a carriage,” he said.
Kitty slid off Alex and returned to her side of the cab. “You’re a wicked man to leave me in this state, Your Royal Highness.”
Alex leaned forward, a sly grin covering his lips. “And what state might that be?”
“Hot and bothered.” She gazed out the window. “Maybe you do deserve to be blackballed from that dratted club.”
“I like when you’re all fired up, Kitty.”
“I’m sure you do. But I don’t care for it one bit.”
“Tell me, Miss Hot and Bothered, how do you even know about being blackballed from a club?” He pushed her gown back up to her waist.
A shiver of pleasure heated her spine. “Thomas told me how the men cast votes with white and black balls and should one black ball fall into the pot, then the club member whom they are voting on becomes an outcast.”
Alex smirked. “I’m starting to see that you have been exposed far more to a man’s world than has the average woman.” He inched his fingers up her thigh.
Kitty spread her legs. “Is that a problem?”
“Not in all instances, no.”
She scooted her bottom forward. “And in this instance is it a problem?”
He flicked his finger over her clit. “That depends.”
“On what?”
He kept up his heated assault on her nub. “On whether you’re fully prepared to become a full-fledged member of my team.”