“I should like to have a bath, Sedgwick,” he said, as he surveyed the room. It was small, but surprisingly well furnished. In addition to the tester bed with green velvet hangings, the Aubusson carpet and ormolu clock were of the quality seen in the finest homes in Mayfair. To find them in the lesser guest room of a university professor was unusual.
After promising that a bath would be sent up, but being rather vague on exactly when that would occur, Sedgwick took his leave. Arthur unpacked his satchel and did what he could to make his clothing presentable. He’d never enlisted the services of a valet, in part because as one who made most of his blunt from gaming, he never knew how flush he’d be from one month to another. He’d become quite adept at looking after his clothes himself, or, in a pinch, paying Ned’s man Rigg when he needed something out of the ordinary. But, as he looked at his muddy boots, he realized there was merit in being dependably wealthy, even if he probably couldn’t attain a fortune on his own.
If he wanted more security than his inheritance provided, he could marry for money. Being the third son of a duke might not appeal to some marriage-minded mamas, but there were plenty of fathers who’d earned their fortunes in trade who were looking to buy into the peerage. He only hoped that his future wife had even a modicum of the personality, looks and intelligence of the captivating Vanessa.
The water did finally arrive and wasn’t as cold as he’d predicted, though it was none too warm, either. He’d already laid out his clothes for dinner, so he had time for a leisurely soak. The copper tub proved more of a match for someone of Vanessa’s height than his. That was a thought worth dwelling on: Vanessa, naked, lying in the tub. In desperate need of someone to wash her back, her front, her other bits. As he folded himself into the tub, with limbs hanging over the edge, he thought about soaping up Vanessa while worshipping every inch of her.
His fantasy was getting particularly good when the door opened and Vanessa entered, as if summoned by his wayward thoughts. Except in his fantasy, she had a sultry, wanton look in her eyes, rather than the no-nonsense, let’s-go-hunt-some-villains expression that was there now. When she realized he was in the tub, she blushed delightfully then averted her eyes, but only after a quick peek.
Arthur took some satisfaction in that. While she was strictly off limits for the time being, he still wanted her to find him attractive. Especially since he wanted her so very much.
“Pray forgive my sudden entrance,” she said to the wall opposite his tub. “I should’ve knocked, but I just thought of something and need your counsel.”
“No apology necessary,” he said, as he purposely splashed water to get her attention. He thought she almost turned around. “You hereby have permission to enter my bed chamber at any time, day or night.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” she said primly, as she tugged at the oversized gown she was wearing.
“Did you bring that gown with you?” asked Arthur.
“No. Professor Dumbarton was kind enough to lend it to me while my clothes are being laundered. It belongs to his sister.”
“She’s a rather large woman,” said Arthur.
“So it would appear. The reason I barged in on you is that I just thought of something.”
“I’m all ears. Well, almost.”
She continued on, ignoring the innuendo. “How did Mortimer and Portia know the chest was at Riverton Farms?”
Arthur reluctantly turned his thoughts to their mission. “I don’t know. How did you know it was?”
“I was sent there by the Home Office. My superior, Lord Willingham, had received a tip and I was sent to investigate.”
Arthur thought about that. “Perhaps whoever alerted Willingham also told Mortimer and Cassidy.”
“But for what purpose? Why alert the authorities and the villains who want to steal it?”
Arthur watched the emotions play across her face. “Do you think there’s a mole in the Home Office?”
“I wouldn’t like to think so, but I cannot ignore the possibility. If there is, it would make one thing clear…”
“That Mortimer and Cassidy went to London when they realized the papers were fake.”
“Yes!” She was so excited she turned toward him, apparently forgetting his state of undress. But it was obvious the moment she registered it. Her gaze drank him in. From his broad, muscled shoulders, to his defined chest with a smattering of hair. The flat male nipples, the definition of his stomach which led downward to what was just barely visible through the water.
Arthur watched her growing arousal. She was very aware of him as a man. And not the flustered way that a virgin would be. It was an intriguing thought.
Then she remembered herself and turned away once again.
“I should leave you to your bath,” she said quickly.
“Please do not do so on my account. I’m enjoying the conversation immensely. You must forgive my rag manners for not rising when you entered. I can do that right now, if you…”
“No!”
Her panic brought a smile to his face. He could almost feel sorry for her, if he weren’t so painfully aroused himself.
“We can talk about this at dinner,” she said, as she hastened toward the door.
“If you wish,” said Arthur.
She departed quickly and he swore he heard her running down the hall. He laid his head back on the rim of the tub. The rapidly cooling water was exactly what he needed.
* * *
Dinner was an odd affair, Arthur concluded some time later. The food was excellent, courtesy of Dumbarton’s French cook. On the rare occasions at university when Arthur had dined at a professor’s home, the fare had been only a step or two better than what was served to students. But, somehow, Dumbarton was living quite well.
“Would you like more wine, Kellington?” asked Dumbarton. “I’m particularly fond of this vintage. It comes from a quaint little vineyard in the Bordeaux region of France.”
A beleaguered Sedgwick was at Arthur’s elbow, already beginning to pour. Arthur nodded at the butler, who simply grunted in reply. “Have you travelled extensively in France?” Arthur asked Dumbarton. If they were looking for a mole, perhaps they had already found him.
“Travel is both a necessity and an interest of mine,” replied the professor, who was slightly foxed from his excellent wine. “Whenever possible, I like to explore the world, which has become much easier now that the wars are over. And, of course, I can get funding for my trips, seeing as how I’m one of the university’s most acclaimed professors.”
“Professor Dumbarton has published several articles which have received praise from around the world,” said Vanessa, as she smiled at the annoying man.
“Have you done much travelling, Kellington?” asked Dumbarton.
“Not yet. Although it’s certainly a dream of mine.”
“Well, what’s keeping you?” asked Dumbarton, as he motioned for more wine. “It’s not like you have a career or a wife and children to hold you back. And I’m sure Lynwood keeps that family of yours in line. What’s to stop you from travelling the globe?”
Arthur took a sip of wine, unable to provide an answer. What was keeping him from his dreams of travel? While he didn’t have unlimited funds, he did have enough to spend an extended period of time travelling the continent. And, if he was careful with his spending, he could go to the Americas or even the Orient. He’d grown up with such dreams. What was keeping him in England?
Then he turned and looked at the bewitching woman across the table from him. Perhaps he’d always known he had unfinished business. Once he knew she was safe, he would be free to live his life as he wished.
Dumbarton cleared his throat. “I suppose it’s time we got down to business, isn’t it? Kellington, make yourself at home with my wine or a glass of port. Vanessa and I shall retire to the study.”
“While I thank you for your kind hospitality,” said Arthur smoothly, as he helped Vanessa rise from her seat before Dumbarton cou
ld do it, “I should like to join you.”
“Splendid,” said Dumbarton, looking anything but pleased. “It shall be interesting to watch an untutored mind at work.”
Vanessa quickly interjected. “Professor Dumbarton, while Lord Arthur may be new to the world of ciphers and code breaking, I can assure you he has a first-rate mind.”
Arthur was absurdly pleased by the compliment. He offered his arm to her then escorted her to Dumbarton’s study.
The room was comfortably furnished with leather chairs similar to those at White’s, as well as a sideboard that was well stocked with the finest port and brandy. A bookcase contained souvenirs of Dumbarton’s travels, including pen and ink drawings of plants native to the Amazon, as well as what appeared to be a shrunken skull.
“Just one of my former students,” said Dumbarton, who then chuckled at his own jest. He motioned for Vanessa and Arthur to be seated. “While you two were freshening up, I took the liberty of reviewing the papers.” He indicated the documents that were laid out on a table in front of them. “You were right, my dear. Without the code in the chest, we cannot be assured that we are interpreting them correctly. You said the messenger was French?”
“That is what I was told,” said Vanessa. “Although we believe his contact may be English.”
The documents were a series of letters and numbers, carefully printed on several pages of expensive paper stock. While occasionally the letters spelled out words in English, there were just as many instances of French, German and Spanish.
“They remind me of puzzle books I had when I was a child,” said Arthur. “While seemingly incomprehensible now, the solution was usually fairly straightforward once you found which letters represented common consonants and vowels.”
Dumbarton chuckled condescendingly. “I can assure you this is slightly more complicated than a puzzle book, Kellington. I shouldn’t try to work it out if I were you. Wouldn’t want to strain your brain too much.”
Arthur picked up one of the sheets of paper. “I believe the code shifts from page to page.”
“What do you mean?” asked Vanessa.
“On this first page, the number eight is used alone in the frequency that would indicate it stands for the letter ‘A.’ But by the third page, the letter ‘Z’ is used that way and by….” He shuffled through the pages. “….by the end, it appears the number seven does the same thing.”
“That’s not the number seven,” said Vanessa, as she leaned over to examine it. “It’s the continental number one. It’s not used often, but I’ve seen it in passing enough to know.” She leafed through the pages, a slight frown on her face. “Something is odd.”
“Yes, well,” said Dumbarton, as he took the pages out of her hands, “I’d say the entire business is odd. How someone expected the papers to survive in a trunk buried in a lake is beyond me. It’s a good thing you got there when you did or all might have been lost. As it is, no good will come from amateurs...” Here he looked directly at Arthur. “...pawing the evidence. Best leave the decoding to the expert.”
“Of course,” said Vanessa, who still looked distracted.
“I do not believe it will take me long to decipher them,” continued Dumbarton. “Perhaps just a few hours tonight. I don’t know if you’ve heard, Lord Arthur, but I am well known as the premiere code breaker in the empire. I’m told a knighthood may be in the offing.”
“In that case, we shall leave you to it,” said Arthur. He stood and held his hand out to Vanessa. “May I escort you to your room Miss Gans?”
“Vanessa is perfectly welcome to stay, Kellington.”
Dumbarton looked to Arthur as if his plans for the evening weren’t confined to only working on the papers. “It is up to Miss Gans, of course,” said Arthur. “But we’ve had two very long days of travel and I’m sure she knows a good night’s rest is in the best interest of her mission. Don’t you, Miss Gans? We wouldn’t want to fall behind schedule.”
Vanessa looked at him with some suspicion, but rose and let him tuck her hand into his arm.
Arthur wasted no time in leaving the study with her, calling over his shoulder to Dumbarton as he did so, “Do be so good as to send up that port you mentioned. It shall do very well for a nightcap.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Vanessa awoke from a mostly sleepless night. She was surprised it hadn’t been more restful. The bed was almost as luxurious as the one she’d had at Riverton Farms, and they both were infinitely nicer than her cot at home. She’d had an excellent dinner and was that much closer to solving the puzzle which would lead her to Mortimer and Cassidy. Yet, she’d taken forever to fall asleep, then spent most of the night tossing and turning.
The cause of her unrest was in a room down the hall. She knew it was unlikely that he was taking yet another bath. But her mind couldn’t seem to get him out of the tub. That wasn’t quite true. Her mind had encountered few difficulties in imagining him lounging in bed, with his glorious chest bared for her to see. She was certain he’d never bother with a nightshirt. She was equally sure that the maids in his home probably fought for the honor of lighting the fire in his room each morning, just for the chance to see that broad expanse of chest or anything else they might be lucky enough to get a peek of.
She’d only had a quick glimpse the evening before of the rest of him. Just the thought of what she’d seen made the room considerably warmer. The water had surely distorted the size of his manhood. Water magnified body parts. It was a proven fact. It had to be a proven fact, because if it wasn’t, then who could possibly accommodate such a…force of nature.
It had been a long time since she’d experienced any sort of lovemaking and her education had been cursory at best. But she knew enough to imagine Arthur Kellington was a man who would excel in the bed chamber. And she cursed herself for wanting first-hand confirmation of it.
She put on her newly cleaned lad’s clothing and went downstairs to break her fast. Discussing the mission with Dumbarton would clear her mind of her attraction to Arthur.
Unfortunately, she found the subject of her thoughts already at breakfast before her. He and Dumbarton were poring over maps. The older man was excited, which meant he’d cracked the cipher.
“Good morning, my dear,” said Dumbarton, as he moved to kiss her hand, but was thwarted when Arthur stepped between them on his way to refill his plate at the sideboard.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a late riser,” said Arthur, as he tried to decide between bacon and sausage, then helped himself to both.
“I’m not,” said Vanessa crossly. How like the man to be where she didn’t want him. “But I thought lords such as yourself rarely rose before noon.”
“There are no other lords like myself. And you will be pleased to know that Dumbarton has solved the first piece of the puzzle.”
“It’s true,” said the professor, as he directed Sedgwick to seat Vanessa next to him. “Your cipher, my dear, would’ve been quite impossible for anyone other than I. But, of course, it was not much of a challenge for me. Would you care to know how I broke the code? I will, of course, use layman’s terms so you can understand.”
“Thank you professor,” she said as she took a sip of coffee. “But now that we know what the papers say, I believe we should be on our way as soon as possible. Please be assured I’m certain it was most clever of you.”
Arthur choked on his coffee at her artful evasion, which no doubt saved them not only time, but boredom.
Dumbarton looked to be rather put out at being robbed of the opportunity to flaunt his intelligence yet again. But he pulled himself together enough to tell them his conclusion. “While I have only decoded the first part of the papers….”
“And not all of them?” asked Arthur, who then shook his head and quietly tsked. He also put some of his food on Vanessa’s empty plate.
Dumbarton visibly bristled. “The cipher changed at that point in the papers.”
“So it was just as Miss Gans said last
night?” asked Arthur, who noticed she was trying not to smile.
“Be that as it may,” said Dumbarton, “it appears that the first part of the papers do not name an English contact, if there even is one. Instead, it tells your Mortimer and Cassidy to steal an item of great worth. Presumably, they will then take it to the person who hired them.”
Vanessa looked her surprise. “But why go to all that trouble? Whoever is behind this could have told them in a much easier way.”
“Normally, I would agree with you, but in this instance, the item they are being asked to steal is of incalculable worth and great significance. The consequences for both the thieves and the contact would be severe if word got out.”
“What’s the target?” asked Arthur.
“The Larsen broadsword, which is housed in the Norwich Castle Armory. If you’ll permit me, I shall give you the background from an academic’s perspective. Norwich was a popular landing point for Vikings who were, as history teaches us, quite bloodthirsty warriors. They conquered England and much of northern Europe and some think they even went so far as the coast of North America.
“One of the reasons they fought so well, besides their innate criminal tendencies – Scandinavians are quite nasty creatures – was their weaponry. Their broadswords were crafted by artisans who knew how to kill efficiently. They were so good at their craft that entire myths were built around their weaponry, such as the legend of Thor’s Hammer. In this case, there was a Viking leader named Horvath Larsen, who was said to have conquered the local coastal defenses almost single-handedly. He did it with a broadsword of such acclaim that to just catch sight of it was enough to instill fear in any serfs they encountered. The hilt was inlaid with jewels taken from castles they pillaged along the way. Larsen was said to be invincible. He marched on London and likely would’ve conquered it, had it not been for his own unexpected death.”
“How did he die?” asked Vanessa.
“By being lectured to death,” muttered Arthur into his coffee. He felt an answering kick under the table from Vanessa.
Never Wager Against Love (Kellington Book Three) Page 5