“Isn’t that right, Mr. Simon?” Thom asked with a laugh. “And Lottie with another one on the way.”
“I didn’t know,” Robert said in dismay. “You didn’t tell me. Congratulations, Thom.”
“Yes, congratulations,” Simon said, shaking his hand again. Thom blushed.
“Well, we don’t discuss the missuses much, do we, Mr. Manderley?” Thom said. “We likes it all business.”
Robert took that as a rebuke, though he was quite sure Thom hadn’t meant it that way. Was he all business? Perhaps too much? He’d been so focused on proving to the world that he hadn’t made the wrong decision in becoming a constable. So many had seen it as a step down socially. Some of his mother’s friends had cut her and they’d stopped receiving invitations. And many within the police saw him as a dilettante playing at solving crimes and not as a dedicated officer. Robert no longer fit in either world, and so was determined to prove something to both.
“Have we seen it before, Thom?” Simon asked him, and Robert realized he meant the murders.
Thom shook his head. “No, sir. Not part of any organization we’ve dealt with previous. New crop of young’uns. And I don’t think they’s spying for the French, neither.”
“Americans?” Simon asked. Robert was taken aback. He hadn’t thought of the Americans.
“I doubt it,” Hastings said. “They’ve got their own troubles brewing. Indian troubles. Always trying to grab more territory from the surrounding colonies. It’s a terrible mess over there. They haven’t time to build a new network here, or the care to do so.”
“We’ll make a list of potentials then,” Simon said. Thom immediately pulled out a pencil and paper and made a note. Robert tamped down the jealousy surging in his breast. Thom was his assistant. Not Simon’s. At least not anymore. Time to take back control of this investigation.
“Excellent idea, Gantry. Thank you for the suggestion,” he said politely. “Good idea, Thom. Make a note of that.”
Thom stopped writing and looked between Robert and Simon, wide-eyed. Hastings looked on, clearly amused.
Gantry didn’t miss a beat. “Why don’t you tell me how you found the body—or show me—and I can tell you if I had any similar experiences? Comparing notes is always a good starting point. Has Hastings already done the same?”
“No,” Hastings said. “We hadn’t gotten that far.”
“Another excellent suggestion,” Robert grudgingly admitted. “How long did you work for Sir Barnabas? After the war, I mean?”
“Officially?” Simon asked, following Robert as he walked toward the doorway at the end of the alley. “Not at all. But I’ve unofficially helped with several missions over the years. I had no desire to put myself under Barnabas’s thumb again.”
“Hear, hear,” Hastings mumbled behind them.
“I can’t figure out what your relationship is with Sir Barnabas,” Robert said. “You and Daniel both seem to hate and admire him in equal measure, and the feelings seem to be mutual.”
He slowed down. Simon was limping. It was very subtle. More a stiffness than an actual limp. He obviously wasn’t as recovered from his adventure as he’d like people to believe. So what was he really doing here? A man would have to be insane to leave his bed half infirm to help solve a murder case that had nothing to do with him.
“Yes, a mutual admiration society,” Simon said wryly. “That’s our little triumvirate.” He sighed. “War makes strange bedfellows, that’s all.”
As Robert escorted Simon and Hastings to the first body drop location, he couldn’t help but think that murder made strange bedfellows as well.
Chapter 7
“Christy?” She startled at Robert’s voice behind her. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately. She quickly stood and turned to face him. “I wasn’t expecting you to still be awake.” He smiled and walked over to kiss the cheek she turned up to him.
“We’ve kept supper warm for you,” she said. “I didn’t want you to have to eat alone again.”
“I don’t mind. I hate to keep you from your bed.” Robert carefully avoided her gaze and she didn’t try to force him to look at her. She wished conversations between them weren’t so awkward. They’d been married for months. At what point would things get easier?
“I wasn’t tired,” she lied. “And Christian only just went to sleep.”
“I’m sorry,” Robert said, and she knew he meant it. “His teeth are still bothering him?”
“Yes.” She bit her lip, not sure what to say next. “Teething. Still.”
“Yes.” Robert checked his pocket watch. “It’s late.” He put his watch away. “I don’t mind if you wish to go to bed.”
“No.” He looked surprised by her vehemence. “I mean, I’m fine. Come, I’ll get your supper.”
“I’m sure the maid or the cook could take care of it,” he said.
She bit back an irritated retort and took a deep breath before responding. “I sent them to bed. I can get it. It’s no trouble. Would you like to eat in the dining room?”
“The kitchen is fine,” he said, following her.
They didn’t speak again until Robert had a supper of roast pork and potatoes in front of him. She poured him a glass of ale and herself a cup of tea, and joined him at the kitchen table. “How was your day?” she asked, trying to make conversation.
“Good, thank you,” he said politely, wiping the corner of his mouth. “I’m working with a gentleman from the Home Office on a case of joint interest to our two departments. A Mr. Hastings. You might remember him from the situation last year. One of Sir Barnabas’s men.” He slowly cut a piece of pork. “Mr. Gantry stopped by and offered to help with the case as well,” he said, not looking at her.
Christy had barely been paying attention until he mentioned Simon. She choked on her tea. “What?” she asked after she stopped coughing. By now Robert was looking at her and she knew she was giving herself away with a painful blush.
“I said Mr. Gantry was helping with the case,” Robert said, sitting back in his chair, his supper apparently forgotten. “He has a great deal of experience with this type of thing.”
“He does?” Christy felt like an idiot, but all she could muster were inane questions as she tried to digest the fact that her former lover was now working closely with her husband.
“He, too, used to work for Sir Barnabas,” he reminded her. “According to Daniel and Harry, he might still be working for him,” he added. “There is some speculation that he blew up the pirate’s compound in Africa as part of a mission for Sir Barnabas.”
“But I thought he was doing Sir Barnabas a personal favor when he was abducted,” Christy interjected. “It wasn’t official Home Office business.”
“That’s what I was told as well, but since it is Sir Barnabas James and Daniel, who knows what the truth is? You know as well as I that they both lie as easily as they draw breath. It is the nature of their calling.”
“How can you say that about Daniel?” she demanded, offended on his behalf. “He is one of your oldest and dearest friends.”
“That is true,” Robert said, picking up his knife, “but I am not blind to his faults. I love him in spite of them.”
“And if Simon is working for Sir Barnabas, what does that matter?” she asked, crossing her arms. “The Home Office is a respectable department of the British government, is it not?”
“Indeed it is,” Robert said. He wasn’t looking at her again. “If Mr. Gantry is working for them, that is his business. I can only speak to what I know of Sir Barnabas’s reputation and what I have personally seen of his behavior, both in his position and in his personal life, mostly concerning Daniel and Mr. Gantry. He is not a man to be trusted, and I’m afraid that is most likely true of the men who work for him.”
“I think you are wrong,” Christy said firmly. She could see that her words shocked Robert. He was used to the quiet, mousey Christy who was a delicate flower afraid of her own shadow. Well, in this matter she w
ould show her true colors. She couldn’t sit here and let him disparage Simon in such a manner.
“From what I know of Mr. Gantry, he is a man of impeccable honor and courage, and if he is working for Sir Barnabas then he has good reason to do so. If he is helping you to solve your case, whatever it is, then he must be doing so for altruistic reasons and none other, I am sure. But as for Sir Barnabas, I am sure you are right,” she added to assuage his pride, as most men needed some sort of salve when told they were wrong.
“I’m sure you know better than I,” he said, “as you are better acquainted with Mr. Gantry.” Since he wasn’t looking at her she didn’t know how to take his comment. Did he know what had happened between them? Did he suspect how intimate they had been? That she still desired Simon?
She bit her lip. When would she learn to keep her mouth closed? What a fool she was, to jeopardize her marriage to a good man who had saved her over a man who had not wanted her.
After his supper, Robert was clearly surprised when Christy followed him into their bedchamber and stood there expectantly. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No.” She could feel herself blushing. She’d never initiated intimacies with Robert before, not since their first kiss anyway. But after her defense of Simon, she felt she ought to do something to belay any suspicions Robert may have.
And of course, even thinking in such a manner made her feel guilty and tarnished. She’d felt like that ever since Robert had offered for her, because she’d wanted Simon instead. Robert had never done anything to make her feel less than cherished, like a lady and a wife should be. But she knew the truth. He deserved so much better than she. The least she could do was perform the one thing she appeared to be good at. At least two other men had found her so, anyway.
“I can help you undress,” she offered. She frowned. She didn’t care for how quiet and unsure she sounded. She cleared her throat. “Let me help you,” she said firmly. She took a step toward him, but stopped when Robert took a hasty step back.
“Why?” he asked warily.
“You don’t want me to?” She was disappointed, of course. She’d foolishly thought Robert was the one man she wouldn’t have to convince to take her to bed, being her husband and all. Her first lover and Simon had both needed a bit of cajoling. She sighed. At least she had experience in that area, too.
It wasn’t as if she and Robert had never had relations. He’d come to her room every third Tuesday of the month since they’d married. He’d awkwardly told her the first time that he didn’t want to inconvenience her with his needs or cause her undue distress. She hadn’t said a word because as far as she knew this was normal behavior for ladies and gentlemen who were married. She must be the abnormal one with her almost constant desire to have a man between her thighs. She was a wanton disgrace, which, really, she’d known all along and was sure Robert suspected. On the other hand, she’d heard ladies talking behind their fans about men’s baser urges and their inability to turn away a willing woman. She just needed to make Robert understand she was willing.
“It’s not that,” Robert explained hastily. “It’s just, you’ve never offered before. You don’t need to help me, I don’t mind. You must be exhausted.”
“I don’t want to go to bed,” Christy told him. “I mean, I do. I want to go to bed.”
“Then go to bed.” He sounded exasperated. “I have no desire to detain you.”
“No desire at all?” she asked a little desperately, not sure exactly how to let him know what she wanted without using crass language which both Simon and the coachman had enjoyed but she rather thought would shock Robert insensible.
Robert pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve had a very long day, Christy,” he said. Was that a note of desperation in his voice as well? “Go to bed and I’ll see to myself.”
She started to turn away but stopped, lecturing herself all the while to straighten her backbone and show a little gumption, as Daniel was always telling her as it concerned Robert.
“No.” Robert closed his eyes tightly. “I want to help you undress. So that we can…” She hesitated. “So that we can go to bed. Together.” She realized she was wringing her hands and immediately dropped them to her sides.
Robert’s eyes opened wide as he stared at her in astonishment. “Together?” he asked. “As in, together?”
“Yes.” She didn’t lower her head or look away, exactly. But she didn’t meet his eyes, either, staring slightly over his head at the door lintel. She’d recently had the wood painted a very pleasant shade of robin’s egg blue. She liked it very much. Robert said she had an eye for color. He liked everything she did.
That thought gave her the courage to meet his eyes. She did bite her lip while doing so, but she couldn’t help it.
“Christy,” he said gravely. She didn’t like the sound of that. “You needn’t do anything you don’t want to. I’m not upset with you, you mustn’t think that.” He walked over and took her gently by the shoulders and kissed her forehead. “I meant what I said. I’ll never inconvenience you with my needs. That also means you don’t need to try to please me in that way if it doesn’t please you.”
“What if it does please me?” she asked, the question bursting out of her despite her misgivings. “Sometimes…well, a month is a very long time to wait to be…to be close to you. Like that.”
Robert looked a little flummoxed. “I…well, I never thought that you would feel that way. I mean, I know that you had bad experiences with men in the past, and I didn’t want to make you feel the way they did.” He grimaced and shook his head as he stepped back away from her again. “I’m sorry. I never meant to bring up your past like that. It was uncalled for. Forget I said that.”
“I’m confused,” Christy said. “You don’t want to because of my past? Because I’ve been with other men? Or because you think I don’t want to be with other men now? Ever again?” Which couldn’t be further from the truth. Oh, how could two people be married and not know anything about one another? What a bother this business was. They knew less about one another now than they did when they got married, it seemed.
“I thought you might have a distaste for it now,” Robert said. “I didn’t want to force anything on you.”
“Oh, Robert,” she said, laying her hand on his heart and smiling up at him sadly. “I suppose if I were a lady that would be true. But the truth is, I enjoy it. I probably shouldn’t admit that, but it’s true. The physical act between a man and a woman pleases me. I like it. With you.” And she did. If it wasn’t the thrilling, passionate encounters she’d had with Simon, what of it? Robert was tender and kind and passionate in his own way. Perhaps he’d be more so now that he knew she wasn’t disgusted by his baser nature.
Her nerves stretched taut as she waited for Robert to respond. He stared at her for what seemed endless minutes, his face unreadable, which in itself was unusual enough to make her nervous. Normally he had a very expressive face and she practically knew what he was going to say before he said it. Perhaps Robert had been showing her someone else as well, someone not true to his real self and this unreadable stranger was the man she’d married. The thought both frightened and intrigued her.
“I don’t know what to do,” he finally confessed, his brow wrinkling. “I want to take you at your word. Believe me, Christy, I do. Fervently. But I fear taking advantage of your gentle nature and your eagerness to please.” He held up a hand to stop her before she could respond. “I know you feel you have something to prove to me, though God knows why.” He reached out and took both her hands in his, bridging the gap between them. “You are a lady, Christy, and have always been so to me. If I have ever done anything to make you feel otherwise, I am truly sorry and deserve your spite and rancor, not this gift you are attempting to bestow upon a most undeserving husband.”
Christy squeezed his hands and laughed. “On the contrary, you have always treated me like a lady and a cherished wife, my dear. That is why I wish to treat you as a ch
erished husband. Now, come to bed with your wife. I’ll not take no for an answer.”
Without waiting for him to find another reason to reject her, she stepped close to him and reached for his cravat. He grabbed her hands to stop her, but she met his gaze with her determined one and he gave in, letting go and giving her free rein by tipping his chin up. A thrill of victory coursed through her veins. She’d won.
Christy slowly unwrapped her prize. Robert was very fit for a gentleman, she supposed due to his livelihood as a constable. He’d told her once he sparred with other policemen in the boxing ring, and he had played cricket and gone riding and hunting with Daniel and Harry when he’d come to visit them in Scotland while they’d been waiting on the divorce. He’d always been the sporting type, which pleased her. She enjoyed his muscular frame. Many gentlemen grew soft with age, and she wouldn’t mind when that happened to Robert, but she knew he wouldn’t grow fat. He simply wouldn’t allow himself to do so. He hadn’t the temperament or the disposition for it.
She smoothed her hand down his arm after she helped him off with his jacket, the linen of his shirt warm from the firm, strong arm beneath it. She hurriedly laid his coat aside and reached for the buttons of his waistcoat, eager to divest him of the rest of his clothes before he remembered to extinguish the candles. He always came to her in the dark. She supposed it was another effort not to offend her delicate sensibilities. If only she had the courage to tell him she her sensibilities were lusty rather than delicate. But that was perhaps not what a husband wanted to hear about his wife.
When Christy began to tug the tails of his shirt from his breeches, Robert put a firm hand on hers, stopping her. “Let me do the rest,” he told her. “You go and undress, and I shall meet you in your room.”
Christy tried to hide her disappointment. She’d been enjoying the spontaneity of their encounter, but Robert always preferred to plan ahead, whether it was marital intimacies or a Sunday carriage ride in the park. Since this was for him, she would acquiesce.
Mission to Love Page 5