Never Wager Against Love (Kellington Book Three)

by Driscoll, Maureen

  “I am sure my real name does not signify.”

  Arthur grinned. “As much as I hate to argue with a lady, I must say it signifies very much to me.”

  She hesitated for a moment then said “Anne.”

  “I should have been more specific. Your real name, if you please. And before telling me Anne is your real name, I must remind you that I spend a great deal of time at card tables assessing whether the players around me are telling the truth. Just now, you were not.”

  The man was beyond vexing. “At the risk of offending your rather oversized…”

  “I see my reputation does precede me,” Arthur interrupted, with a naughty grin.

  “…opinion of yourself,” she continued, ignoring his risqué comment as best she could. “I must point out that you just spent several days at a house party with two criminals and an agent for the Home Office and didn’t suspect a thing.”

  Arthur couldn’t hide the smile that unwillingly showed itself. “Let’s just say I was distracted by your beauty, wit and charm – only two of which are currently in evidence. Lest you not take my meaning, I shall tell you your beauty, as always, is on display and allow you to guess whether wit or charm is temporarily at sea. Your name, please.”

  She hesitated one moment more then relented. “Vanessa Gans. Now, I must once again insist that you switch horses with me then trot on back from whence you came.”

  “My dear Miss Gans, I rarely trot and almost never obey orders. Tell me, what harm can there be in my accompanying you?”

  “It will be a dangerous mission.” She knew that to be true on more than one level.

  “All the more reason to have someone else along. I may look like a pampered lordling, but in my family physical activity was encouraged as I was growing up. And as an adult by age, if not always behavior, I ride, fence and frequent Gentleman Jim’s boxing salon. I am also accounted to be the best shot in my family, which is more impressive than you might think, given how competitive Lynwood and Lizzie are, and the fact that Ned worked as a spy during the war. I will be an asset to you, Miss Gans, despite my birthright.”

  Vanessa had to admit there was merit in allowing him to accompany her. While she worked most of her missions alone, she’d rarely been in such a dangerous position before and never so far from the reinforcements of London. She was going up against two experienced criminals. Even if Arthur did nothing more than scout, he’d be of assistance. As for her unwanted attraction to him, she’d just have to keep her distance. She also suspected that while he was probably up to the task physically, he likely didn’t have the mindset to see the mission through to its conclusion. Work such as hers often meant days of tedium. There would be no balls or evenings spent enjoying the attractions of the demimonde, and she had the feeling he normally didn’t spend much time away from such pursuits. Furthermore, a man like him was used to luxury. The cold reality of sleeping in flea-bitten inns, eating cold food and riding for days on end would likely put an end to his assistance.

  But, hopefully, I’ll get that kiss I’ve been longing for in the meantime. She banished that unwanted thought then turned to him. “All right,” she said grudgingly. “You may come along, but I am in charge of this mission and you must do whatever I tell you, for both our sakes.”

  “My mind is intrigued by the mere notion of following your every order,” he said as he gave her one of his most charming smiles. “Shall we set out?”

  “Merlin isn’t of a mind to travel, my lord.”

  “It’s Arthur, and he’ll do just fine.”

  With that, Arthur moved his horse into a canter and Merlin quite obediently followed. “I take it we’re on the trail of the Marleys?”

  “Their real names are Frederick Mortimer and Portia Cassidy. The trail has grown cold, but I have a better idea of where to go.”

  “I look forward to catching up to them,” said Arthur. “Wherever they may be.”

  * * *

  Cheapside, London

  Portia Cassidy hurled the small chest across the room, where it hit the wall with a resounding thud.

  “Careful, love,” drawled Frederick Mortimer. “Wouldn’t want to risk losing a very lucrative reward by destroying that chest.”

  Portia looked around the shabby sitting room of their safe house. As promised, the home was in a neighborhood known for its discretion. Very few, if any, peers resided in that part of town. It was a needed precaution for their contact who couldn’t be seen with them at any cost. In order to limit Portia and Frederick’s exposure to the outside world, the house had been stocked with everything they might need as they waited for further instructions. The servants were well-paid for their discretion and efficiently performed their duties while only rarely appearing. Yet, despite the adequacies of the arrangement, Portia continued to pace, her displeasure at being cooped up very much in evidence. In contrast, Frederick lounged in a chair by the fire, sipping a glass of port.

  “How can you be so blasted calm?” she asked. “That bitch gave us fake papers. And without the real ones, the chest is useless.”

  After stealing the chest from the Riverton house party, they’d discovered important papers were missing from it. When they’d kidnapped Lord Arthur and ransomed him for them, Vanessa had handed over the documents. But the ones she’d given them had been forged. They’d been told by the person who hired them that the papers were in code which could only be deciphered with the chest. But after poring over the documents since reaching the safe house, they’d discovered they’d been tricked.

  “The chest may be useless with these papers,” said Frederick. “But it will prove invaluable when we recover the real ones. And don’t forget….without the chest, Vanessa won’t be able to make sense of the documents. We haven’t seen the last of her, pet. Nor her of us.”

  “We should’ve taken her hostage then killed her when we had the chance,” Portia said, to test his reaction. “No one else would’ve thought to forge those papers.”

  Frederick simply raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his drink. “Making our escape was hard enough. It would’ve been close to impossible if Kellington had been screaming for our blood. You saw them together. The man was halfway to being in love with her.”

  “And she was more than halfway to feeling the same about him.”

  There it was, thought Portia with grim satisfaction. Just the slightest hesitation before Frederick raised his glass again. He thought he could hide his feelings, but he couldn’t shield them from her. Never from her.

  “There’s nothing more we can do tonight,” she said, as she turned away from him and slowly began walking toward the door, her hips swaying from side to side. “Why don’t we retire and start anew in the morning?” She reached the door, then turned to him over her shoulder. “After all, there’s nothing to be done about Vanessa Gans tonight.”

  She left the room.

  Frederick sat deep in thought for a moment, then finished his drink and followed her. There was nothing more to be done about Vanessa Gans for the moment. But a reckoning would most surely come.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Throughout his life, Arthur had spent a great deal of time thinking about the Romany woman’s prediction for him, but never so much as in the week since he’d met Vanessa. While he normally wouldn’t put too much faith in Sofia’s claim to be able to predict the future, he had to admit she’d come rather close to the mark with Ned. Just as foreseen, he had gone overseas and faced a great deal of danger through his work with the Foreign Office. And with Jane, Ned had found the love of his life. While thus far, none of Lizzie’s predictions had come to pass, he had no doubt that if any woman would one day speak before Parliament, it would be his sister.

  Although he shuddered to think just what it was she would say.

  However, Sofia had been completely off the mark about Hal. He couldn’t imagine his youngest brother telling anyone to avoid alcohol, unless it was to win some kind of wager with his friends. Or, perhaps, if he’d been
knocked insensible about the head. But even then the concept was rather far-fetched.

  As for Liam’s future that the course of true love wouldn’t run smoothly, well, that was akin to predicting a great ball of fire would rise in the east to begin each day then set in the west. When did love ever run smoothly? It was one of the reasons Arthur had spent so much time avoiding it. That, and the feeling he had that the woman he loved would one day be lost to a villain’s bullet.

  Until he’d met Vanessa, he’d never really had to worry about it other than as an abstract concept. But now he’d met a female who affected him like no other woman he’d ever met. And since her work continually exposed her to danger, it made sense that she might be in a situation where she’d be shot. The very thought of it made his stomach clench. It didn’t mean he was in love with her. He’d be similarly upset at the thought of any person of his acquaintance being shot.

  Wouldn’t he?

  If Sofia’s prediction was true and the woman he loved would be shot, perhaps Vanessa would be spared if he didn’t fall in love with her. Of course, the best way to ensure that would be for him to leave now and never look back. But he couldn’t bear the thought of her riding into danger unprotected. It would be ungentlemanly to abandon her, no matter how much she claimed she wanted him to leave. He’d stay, but he’d safeguard his emotions.

  He looked at the woman who’d been riding beside him for the past two hours. She had a light coating of dust on her and a smudge of grime on her nose. While she’d rather ruthlessly re-tucked her hair under her hat, some of the vibrant red tendrils had escaped and were curling about her neck. She was enchanting. Arthur halted his wayward thoughts and forced himself to think about the task at hand. “Where exactly are we going?”

  “To consult with someone who might know how to decipher the papers.”

  “The real ones from the chest?”

  She nodded and a bit of sunlight made her hair gleam. Arthur tried to ignore the effect.

  He didn’t succeed.

  “I should be quite upset with you,” he said gruffly. “Mortimer and Cassidy were holding me hostage. If they’d known you’d given them a fake copy of the papers, they could’ve killed me.”

  “I considered that,” she said as she stroked Merlin’s neck. “But the chance of it occurring was quite small. Had they discovered the deception, they wouldn’t have dared to kill you because they still needed leverage to get me to give them the real documents.”

  Arthur stared at her stroking hand, then blinked in a futile attempt to get the images the motion conjured out of his head. “But there was still a chance it could have happened.”

  She looked just the slightest bit sheepish. “Yes, I realize that. But you should know how glad I am that you were released relatively unharmed. Although I feel compelled to say that if you’d listened to me and left the entire business alone, you never would’ve been placed in harm’s way in the first place.”

  “That’s one of the poorest apologies I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  “That’s because I wasn’t apologizing,” she said with one last pat for Merlin’s neck. “And if you are to accompany me, we must get something straight. I will be the only one to take any risks from here on out. You must stay safely away from any action that occurs.”

  “That is completely unacceptable,” said Arthur more forcefully than he’d intended. “I will not let you put yourself at risk, sweeting.”

  “That is entirely beyond your control, Lord Arthur, and I would prefer that you keep your endearments to yourself. Come, I want to go a few more miles before nightfall.” Then she kicked Merlin into a gallop and for once the animal obeyed.

  * * *

  Shortly before sunset, Vanessa surveyed their surroundings. The last village they’d passed was at least five miles behind them. They wouldn’t reach another until well after dark. There was a hill to one side of them and forest on the other. Both offered adequate cover from the road, but the hill seemed to also have some protection from the elements.

  “This should do for tonight,” she said, as she walked Merlin toward the gentle slope of the hill.

  “Do for what?” asked Arthur.

  “To sleep. Kellingtons do sleep, don’t they?”

  “We are known for taking full advantage of a bed. We also, from time to time, sleep. Why are you taking Merlin up that hill?”

  “It’s where we’re going to spend the night. And by ‘we,’ I mean your horse and me.” “Is there an inn up there?” asked Arthur dubiously.

  “Of course not. But there appears to be some flat ground just above that rise, which should afford excellent cover. I don’t think we’re being followed, but one can never be too careful when sleeping out of doors.”

  “I imagine that would be so, but surely there must be an inn if we press on. Or we could go back to the one we passed an hour ago.”

  Vanessa made an indistinct noise, which sounded suspiciously like a snort. “I do not have the time to go backward, sir. You, of course, are free to sleep wherever you wish.”

  “Why Miss Gans, I thought you’d never ask.”

  Vanessa hoped the growing dusk hid the flush which immediately flooded her face. “That was not an invitation to indiscretion, as you very well know. I only meant that if you are incapable of spending the night under the stars, you may go back to the inn. However, I will not wait for you in the morning.”

  “But I was not concerned for my own comfort,” said Arthur, biting back a smile at her obvious attempt to make him quit.

  “I assure you that I require no such coddling,” she said, as she very pointedly dismounted by herself.

  “Quite. But I was worried about my horse. Poor Merlin has grown quite accustomed to a well-appointed stable. Clean hay, fresh water. It sounds quite inviting, now that I think of it. What I wouldn’t give for a bed of hay.” What he wouldn’t give to lie next to her in it. Arthur dismounted then began unsaddling his horse. The area in which they’d chosen to spend the night was a patch of flat grass halfway up the hill, which was sheltered from the wind. “If we sleep here, what shall we eat for dinner?”

  “I will be eating a bit of cheese, some bread and an apple. I don’t know what your meal will consist of.” Then, as the silence lengthened between them, she added “Don’t tell me you didn’t bring anything.”

  Arthur hated looking like a fool in front of her, but if he had any hopes of eating, he had to confess. “I already ate what little I brought. Had I known we’d be pressing on this far I might’ve packed more. But I’m not in the habit of providing my own meals. That’s what cooks are for. And inns. And civilization.”

  “I suppose I can share my meal with you tonight,” she said rather grudgingly, as she tied Merlin’s reins to a tree. She reached to take off his saddle, but Arthur was there first. As his fingers grazed hers, she jumped back as if stung.

  “Please, allow me,” he said with a grin. “Think of it as earning my share of the meal you had the foresight to pack. And to think that all I have to do for half a chunk of cheese and some dried-out bread is to curry both our horses.”

  “Perhaps this will dissuade you from continuing on the journey.”

  “What kind of man would I be if I let a little work and starvation take me from your side?” asked Arthur, as he saw to the animals. “Do you only have the one apple? Our horses deserve the treat, even if I do not.”

  “I brought food for the horses,” said Vanessa, as she cut an apple in two and handed one half to Arthur. “They are most deserving, after all.”

  “And I am not?”

  “I did not say that, my lord.”

  “Nor did you deny it, Miss Gans. At least if I am to be found wanting it is in favor of two warriors such as these.”

  Arthur watched Vanessa feed the apple to Merlin with one hand as she stroked his neck with the other. Normally unfriendly to anyone other than Arthur, Merlin was quite literally eating out of her hand and nudging her gently with his head. Arthur was of
a mind to tell his animal to stop being so fresh when he remembered he needed to keep his distance from the delectable Vanessa.

  With that in mind, Arthur scouted the best place to sleep for the night, preferably far from temptation. It had been many a year since he’d slept out of doors as a child, and even then it had been on a soft bed roll and within walking distance of the manor. If he recalled correctly, the meal had been served by footmen. On a table. With proper linens and china. He wasn’t looking forward to sleeping on the ground, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Vanessa. He did have some pride, even if it was being steadfastly eroded.

  She approached him carrying her saddlebag. “Where is your blanket?” she asked.

  “In the comfort of a well-tended house.”

  “You cannot tell me you came on the journey this ill-prepared.”

  “Guilty as charged,” said Arthur. “When I discovered you had gone – after promising to wait for me, I might add – I was more concerned about your welfare than I was about the contents of my saddlebag. In hindsight, I now believe an extra ten minutes of preparation might have been in order, particularly since you have proven yourself so capable, although not particularly good at keeping your word. But even if I had taken the extra time to pack carefully, I confess I probably would not have thought to bring a blanket because I had not anticipated sleeping under the stars.”

  “Then perhaps you’ll be turning back?” she asked sweetly.

  If only he could. But not only would he have to stay to protect her, he was determined to make the best of the situation, if only because she was so set on proving he was naught but a pampered aristocrat. “On the contrary, now that I’ve grown used to the idea, I’m quite looking forward to a night out of doors, breathing the fresh country air. Perhaps I shall make sleeping outside a habit when I return to London and bring it into fashion.”