A Regency Duo

by Carole Mortimer

  Eliza rounded the maple bannister at the back of the hall and headed down the flight of narrow wood stairs.

  His bootheels thumped against the creaking steps, but the combination of cookie aroma and that damn violet perfume unique to Eliza, couldn’t keep him away if he wanted to. He’d squish himself between the sides of two colliding ships if need be to follow her. Which really was not his way.

  And certainly not good for his covert work.

  Which was why it was imperative for him to get the woman out of his system. He’d set up a trust for Little Charlie and then be on his way, never to return to Haven House again.

  Then he’d be able to inform Kit he’d found out nothing on the place, and then settle on a clear head and go catch his killer.

  His gaze lowered to Eliza’s arse. Her gown might not be form fitting, but it did drape nicely about her body and that was enough to give him an absolute perfect view of her absolute perfectly shaped bottom.

  “Do you eat buns or cookies, Freddie? I honestly can’t remember which of the two you preferred.”

  Buns, definitely buns. The sort that were well rounded, fit nicely in his hands and were warm from the slap of his palm.

  “Freddie?” At the bottom of the stairs, Eliza stopped abruptly and spun around.

  Dear God, but he nearly crashed into her. What the fuck was he doing fantasizing about the woman’s arse? “Buns.” Shite. Buns were going to get him into trouble. “No. That’s not right. Cookies. I prefer cookies.”

  “Well, I have both. Nice, hot sticky buns and soft, melt-in-your-mouth butter mound cookies. You can have both.” She pivoted and went for the ovens.

  The last thing he needed was to be eating sicky buns and meltable mounds. Kit really should have just let him go to Ari’s last night, then he wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

  He glanced around the large, fairly modern kitchen. It had all the latest contraptions, even the same servants bell system they had in place at the palace, but minus the finely painted walls. Eliza’s kitchen appeared worn, as if it was used for a large family and perhaps had consisted of slightly second-hand pots and the like. Come to think of it, the hall above did have spots of chipped, peeling paint. The whole house probably needed a refurbishing. God help him, but he was thinking like the queen now. And recalling his mother, while in the presence of a woman he’d love to toss over the table and drive hard until they were both spent, was so not a normal thing. He cleared his throat. “Do you often give the staff days off, leaving you here alone?”

  Eliza set the batch of steaming cookies on the table. “No.”

  “Then why today?”

  She glanced over to him, her towel-wrapped hand still gripping the cookie tray. “You ask a lot of questions for a friend who tossed me away. Really, Freddie, just because I saved your life in the alley, doesn’t mean you suddenly have to care about mine again.”

  He cringed. He hated that she thought he’d totally dismissed her. He removed his gloves and shoved them into his waistcoat pocket. “I had reasons for doing what I did.”

  “I’m sure you did.” Reaching for a chipped white china plate and piling it with an assortment of treats that included those damn sticky buns and cookies, Eliza cocked her head to the side, a single chocolate brown, loose curl escaping her otherwise neatly coiled bun. “But really, it doesn’t matter anymore, I’ve gotten over you. Now, about this business of Charlie’s future.” She leaned forward as she pushed the stacked dish his way.

  Her words went straight to his heart. How could she get over him after all they’d been through together? He hadn’t forgotten her.

  Freddie went for a cookie, the far safer treat than the sticky bun, and winced.

  Torture anew flared in his chest.

  Eliza’s eyes went wide. “Are you all right?”

  He nodded. But couldn’t get a word out with the pain pulsing as it was.

  Getting in a good breath, he found his voice again. “The injury from the other night just happened to aggravate an old war wound.”

  “When did you go to war?”

  Oh, shite, again. He’d just revealed his deepest secret. Damn Eliza, but she always had that magical ability to put him at ease, bring out his calmer self. Save for when he was thinking about taking her to his bed, which was quite often, even back then. And that meant she was as dangerous as they came. But there was no going back now, at least not where his war revelation was concerned. “I left two weeks after we last saw each other. And though I did want you to know, I thought writing was not appropriate at the time due to the way I ended things, and due to Countavia’s precarious position trapped between England and France. Letters didn’t always make it through and writing before I left wasn’t doable for other reasons.” He couldn’t tell her about the covert operation he and his brothers were working on. “And please, keep this just between us as I haven’t even told my father I was on the Continent. Same for Kit or any of my other brothers, though Edward does know.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.” Eliza bit her bottom lip as if she were contemplating going to war herself.

  What he’d give to know what went on inside that enchanting head of hers.

  Taking a second go at the cookies, Freddie got in a full bite this time, crumbs falling down his waistcoat front.

  “I am curious, how much are you willing to help Little Charlie?”

  Much to his mouth’s protest, he put down the cookie he’d been eating. “I’d like to secure his future—specifically his education and then set him up to be a gentleman. If you don’t mind.”

  “I’d be delighted to accept on his behalf. But I should warn you, things are a bit difficult at the moment and if you want to do this for the boy, then I advise you set it up within the week.”

  This could not be good. “Are you in some sort of trouble, Lizzie?”

  “I thought we agreed it was Lady Eliza to you.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Lizzie. That was two years ago, and I am sorry. Truly.”

  She shrugged.

  He fumed. “Are you Charlie’s guardian, are you not?”

  She hesitated.

  “Lizzie?”

  “I am in charge of the tot…in a roundabout way.”

  He pinched the bride of his nose. His scandalous influences obviously had rubbed off on the woman. “You say that in a rather dubious manner.”

  “It’s a complicated situation.”

  Having been in enough complicated messes himself, he knew exactly what Eliza meant. The woman was doing something that could land her sweet arse in serious trouble.

  And he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight until he knew precisely what she was up to.

  Eliza wrung the towel in her hands several times before balling the cotton cloth and tossing it onto the table. “Please don’t ask me what I do here, just know Little Charlie could really use all the help he can get. And if you are still of mind to be his benefactor, then please do so and set up the legalities immediately.”

  “Where is the infant now?” He was not going to let her land her arse in the constable’s jail.

  “He’s safe. As are all the others.”

  All the others? “How many children do you care for in total?”

  “Seven. Three boys and four girls. I normally don’t take in more than five at a time, but over the past few months two additional children, Charlie being the last one, needed our aid.”

  “And where are they today?”

  Her shoulders drooped. “I’ve sent them away. But…to a good home owned by a very wealthy and very caring and very upstanding member of society. They will be well tended to and eventually, placed in permanent homes.”

  He didn’t like the sound of this.

  Freddie stepped around the table. “Why did you need to send them away?”

  Eliza backed up an inch, her small, blue silk slippers shuffling across the white marble floor. He hadn’t noticed how worn the shoes were before now. “It’s complicated,” she said
.

  “How so?” He closed the gap between them.

  Eliza widened it again. She braced her hands behind her back. “Archie is kicking up a bit of a fuss as of late. He doesn’t care for the work I do.”

  “And is your brother in the right?” He continued his pursuit of her, step by step, matching her every gain with one of his own, the click of his walking stick sounding every time he pushed forward.

  He successfully backed Eliza against the wall.

  She bit out a little ‘Oh’.

  Placing his right hand above her shoulder, his fingers braced the cold stone wall behind her. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Legally…maybe. Maybe not.”

  She stared him in the eye, little hellion that she was. Hadn’t she realized she was at a disadvantage at the moment? Never had he encountered a female so determined, so…fearless as his Eliza.

  His. God, but that was a dangerous thought.

  “I need time to figure out my rights.” She dipped her head.

  He rested his cane against the wall and reached for her chin, brought his hand to her soft alabaster skin and lifted her head to meet his gaze once more. “How can I help?”

  ***

  Never in her life had she expected Freddie to make that statement. “What do you mean by that, exactly?”

  He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ll give whatever you need.”

  The scent of sandalwood filled the air. Freddie always did smell good, especially in bed where his sheets gave off the perfume of exotic spices that made her contemplate taking part in all sorts of hot, tempting sins. She knew he wasn’t good for her. Not by a mile. And yet she wanted him.

  “I can save Haven House, refurbish it, help you legally find proper homes for the children, even take care of the guardianship papers.”

  He certainly could back up his words, that was a given. Even as Countavia’s youngest prince, Freddie still wielded immense power. But with his fine gray frock coat, silver embroidered waistcoat and black wool trousers and matching boots, he also wielded power over her. And she didn’t know which side of Freddie she was caving to at the moment. The help offering prince, or the sin offering one? “I’ll need to think about it.”

  Freddie stepped back. “How can you turn me down when you’re in trouble?”

  She couldn’t tell him Archie had thrown her out of Littlefield Hall the night she’d snuck out of the palace. Her brother was furious at her late arrival home and in a fit of anger to counter his own, she’d blurted out the fact that she’d spent the night with Freddie. Telling her secret to Archie had been the worst mistake of her life, to date. She didn’t need to make another. “Making a quick decision is what landed me in this mess in the first place.”

  Freddie leaned forward, brought his lips to within a hairsbreadth of hers. Then he kissed her.

  And she hadn’t pulled away. Not a single inch. Instead, she opened for him, allowed his tongue to enter and explore her mouth, flavor her taste buds with the faint trace of cookie.

  She couldn’t let him get the best of her. Not again. She had too much at stake now—the children, Haven House, Archie and the family name. The list was endless. She slipped away, breaking their kiss. “I’m sorry, but I really do need to think about this.”

  “I might not be able to return, Lizzie.”

  “How come?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “And yet you kissed me.”

  Freddie lifted his head and stared up at the ceiling. “I know this is going to be hard to do, but you just have to trust me, Lizzie.”

  “Like last time? As in this is the best for me?”

  He brought his gaze back to face hers.

  She’d be a fool to turn down Freddie’s bargain. Who knew if one would ever come again? “Can you settle things in a week?”

  “What has your brother threatened you with?”

  “I never said he threatened me.”

  “You didn’t have to. I know from experience there are people in this world who do not always agree, for various reasons, with righteous acts. They simply aren’t capable of seeing the good in some things.”

  Freddie certainly had Archie figured out all right. “I can’t discuss it.”

  “Then I’m afraid I can’t help.” Freddie walked back to the table and plucked his coat from the surface.

  “That’s not fair.” It was a bold move, but what did she have to lose?

  “I think my offer is more than fair.”

  She walked up to him. “Of course your offer of help is most gracious, but I’m talking about your refusal of that aid just because I can’t tell you everything. It doesn’t seem fair you can keep secrets when I can’t.”

  His mouth quirked. “You’re a minx, Eliza. A true, spitfire of a hellion minx. But touché. You have me there and I have no shame in admitting it.” He returned his coat to the table. “What do you suggest?”

  “Either we divulge all to each other, or leave some things unsaid. For now.”

  “Unsaid.”

  She could accept that. “Agreed.”

  “Good. Then I will have my solicitor draw up Charlie’s trust. I’ll need information from you, so I’d appreciate it if the man can meet with you tomorrow or the next day. Whatever works best for you.”

  At present, no time worked best for her. Archie could return at any hour, but even if he did, the presence of a solicitor just might scare him a bit. Or in the least make him think she wasn’t going to go down easy, as he didn’t need to know why the solicitor was here. “Tomorrow will be fine. Thank you.”

  Freddie stepped into a beam of sunlight as he glanced around the kitchen, appearing to survey the room. His hair glistened like fine obsidian—black and enticing.

  Her fingers itched.

  What are you thinking, Lizzie?

  “Oh, bugger off!”

  “Excuse me?”

  Sweet Jesus, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She ignored her shocking comment…and Freddie’s as well for that matter. “Why are you sizing up my kitchen?”

  “I think the house needs a bit of refurbishing.”

  “I can’t afford it.”

  “I can.”

  Lying to him, or rather not coming clean about how her life was going to change in a week thanks to her pending marriage, might not have been the wisest of moves. “Let’s just concentrate on Charlie first. Then we can talk about Haven House.”

  Freddie grabbed his coat. “As you wish, Eliza.”

  “What if I need to reach you? How can I contact you? I’m sure I can’t just show up at the palace.”

  He hesitated, licked his lips and swallowed.

  Maybe putting her trust in the hands of a man who’d tossed away once, wasn’t the best thing to do. But his offer was darn enticing.

  “If you absolutely must reach me…and please know I am not disappearing…at least not permanently…I am coming back, but my life and my work are complicated at best at present…you can send a written correspondence to Montgrieve House, Fifty King’s Lane, North Landon. Put it to the attention of the Countess of Montgrieve, and I will receive it.”

  “Is she your mistress?”

  Freddie choked. “That’s quite forward, don’t you think?”

  “Not really. I should know my new business partner, don’t you think?”

  Freddie laughed. “Very well said, Eliza. No, Arianna is not my mistress, but rather a very, very dear friend who will help with anything. You can trust her to keep our business venture to herself. Of that, you have my word.”

  This Arianna sounded like someone she needed to know.

  And she planned to do exactly that as soon as Freddie took his leave.

  Chapter 5

  Freddie cautiously lowered himself onto the yellow and gold striped settee in Ari’s private drawing room, then leaned back and stretched his legs. A throb of pain slammed his ribs, but nothing he couldn’t stomach.

  A whiff of exotic orcha
rd lifted from the pillow at his side. “You really have outdone yourself with this place, Ari. I can’t believe how you’ve managed to pull it off.”

  “I’ve had some help.” She winked at him, then shuffled across the room to the liquor-stocked sideboy. The threads embellishing her pink gown sparkled like liquid silver in the salon’s candlelight.

  No one would suspect this establishment was the Crown’s greatest means of compiling espionage secrets. “How are things truly proceeding at Montgrieve House?”

  Ari shrugged. “Other than those last two French infiltrators we uncovered, it’s been fairly quiet. But that is expected since I lost three girls in the last four months due to the fact they each found love with returning war heroes. And who can blame their husbands? No man would want their wife acting as a makeshift courtesan, even for the sake of king and country. And no woman would want to continue such a masquerade once she made a permanent match.”

  He had to agree. He for one certainly would not want his wife traipsing about an establishment such as Montgrieve House. Of course he hadn’t had a wife, but if he had, he wouldn’t want her associated with an establishment such as this one. “Are you planning on hiring new recruits?”

  Ari nodded, a bright thrill lighting up her azure blue eyes. “I am. In fact, I have a young woman arriving this evening. Perhaps you would care to sit in on the interview?”

  He hadn’t ever interfered with Arianna’s end of the operation, that was always Kit’s realm. “I suppose it can’t hurt, me being there, though I would have thought my brother would prefer to oversee that bit of the business.”

  Shock coveted Arianna’s delicate features. “Kit? Do an interview? God no. He’s never questioned my choices or told me how to run Montgrieve House. Then again, the brothel was my idea. But even so, he’s trusted me without question, since day one.”

  The revelation hadn’t surprised Freddie. For the last twenty-one years Kit had taken Ari under his wings, turned the then ten-year-old girl into what she had become today—a beautiful and proper thirty-one-year old princess. Well, princess save for the actual title. But it also cost the woman a hell of a lot, including a life of her own. And probably the role of becoming a mother. She’d given up her youngest years to serve Countavia.