Never Wager Against Love (Kellington Book Three)

by Driscoll, Maureen

  “He quite literally fell on his own sword,” said Dumbarton triumphantly. “It’s unclear whether an enemy poisoned the sword or it was simply encrusted with enough bad humors to kill a man. Some say an enemy snuck in and killed him with it. Others say he was drunk and tripped, sustaining a wound that became putrid. There’s even a theory that a woman was involved.”

  “A woman is usually involved,” said Arthur. “At least in all the most interesting stories.”

  Dumbarton ignored the comment and continued. “There’s also a mystical theory that says only someone who is truly good at heart can wield the Larsen with impunity. He died when his sins caught up to him. But no matter how it happened, his men were so disheartened that the siege failed. Before heading home, they discarded the broadsword in Norwich because they thought it was cursed. It ended up in some feudal lord’s hands, was passed down through the generations and is now displayed in Norwich Castle at the Armory as a symbol of British supremacy.”

  “Or Viking clumsiness,” added Arthur. And this time Vanessa couldn’t help but giggle.

  “You don’t believe in mysticism, Kellington?” asked Dumbarton.

  Arthur thought briefly of Sofia and her predictions. “I believe in what I can see and touch.”

  “’There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,’” quoted Dumbarton.

  “Yes, well, Hamlet wasn’t a man I would choose to emulate.”

  Dumbarton smiled. “Be that as it may, Kellington, the sword is the villains’ first target.”

  “An armory would surely be well-guarded,” said Vanessa. “How could they expect to steal the sword from such a place?”

  “Norwich Castle is also the shire’s gaol,” replied Dumbarton, as he motioned to Sedgwick to clear the table. “There would be plenty of distractions by the very nature of the occupants. If your villains are as resourceful as you say, they might be able to take advantage of the situation to steal the sword.”

  “That seems to be a fairly big risk, considering if they’re caught they can be imprisoned on the spot,” said Arthur. “What’s the sword’s value?”

  Dumbarton considered the question. “It’s hard to say. Not only is it of great historical significance, but the jewels alone would bring a king’s ransom.”

  “That would certainly be enough to tempt Mortimer and Cassidy,” said Vanessa. “What about the rest of the papers? Do you know when you might finish with them?”

  “Your villains are a good deal smarter than the average,” said Dumbarton wistfully. “I will be successful, of course, but it may take a day or so. Perhaps Kellington should go on to Norwich, while you stay here until I get the next clue.”

  “But Lord Arthur can’t go by himself,” said Vanessa. “If anything, I should travel there and he should wait here for further developments.”

  Both Dumbarton and Arthur said “no” loudly and assuredly. It was, Vanessa observed, the first time they had agreed on anything.

  Half an hour later, Arthur and Vanessa said their farewells to Dumbarton. He’d given them the name of an inn in Norwich where he would send word as soon as he decoded the next portion of the papers. But they encountered an unexpected problem when they reached the mews. Merlin had gone lame.

  “I can’t explain it,” said the head groom, who smelled like he spent a great deal of time in stables. “Oddest thing I ever seen.”

  “He was perfectly well when we arrived yesterday,” said Arthur, as he patted his beloved horse’s withers, then bent to take a look. There were no signs of injury, other than the animal was favoring that leg.

  “Did he pick up a stone in his hoof?” asked Vanessa.

  The groom and his helper took a closer look at Vanessa, who was dressed in her lad’s clothing.

  “The lady asked you a question,” said Arthur, using the tone Lynwood favored when he was scolding Hal for his latest escapades.

  The groom dragged his eyes away from Vanessa and turned back to the horse. “No, miss. We already checked. No stones. Nothing wrong with the shoe, nor with the feed, neither. Can’t hardly figure what could’ve gone wrong with him.”

  Arthur surveyed their surroundings in the light of day. The stable wasn’t as clean as it could be, but the building itself was well maintained. The two lads didn’t appear to be hiding anything and it was possible that Merlin had simply injured himself in unfamiliar surroundings. There was nothing to suggest foul play, but Arthur’s nerves were wound tighter than he realized. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off. A quick examination of the horse he’d borrowed from Riverton revealed him to be in excellent condition.

  “It looks like I shall have to continue on with Riverton’s horse alone,” said Vanessa.

  “It looks like nothing of the sort,” said Arthur, as he walked through the mews taking stock. “Does Professor Dumbarton have a carriage?”

  “Aye,” said the groom. “He just bought a fine one a fortnight ago.”

  “Excellent,” said Arthur. “We shall take the carriage, along with his coachman and a groom. We shall leave poor Merlin here for the time being and I will notify Riverton Farms to pick up their horse. I trust nothing will happen to either animal in the meantime.”

  The threat in Arthur’s voice was unmistakable. Both the groom and the other stable lad assured Arthur that they would take very good care of both animals. They also roused the coachman and readied the carriage in record time.

  Vanessa changed into the one dress she’d packed, while Arthur informed Dumbarton they would be borrowing his carriage. The older man seemed reluctant to part with it, but Arthur assured him that when word of this kindness reached Lynwood, he would be quite appreciative. Then he added that Lynwood would be even more pleased if Dumbarton lent Arthur a pistol. Dumbarton asked whether that gratitude might include a recommendation for a knighthood and Arthur promised to write his brother straight away.

  Arthur penned a note to Riverton, then wrote one to Lynwood. Neither mentioned a knighthood.

  * * *

  They made good time in Dumbarton’s well-sprung carriage. As Arthur sat across the carriage from Vanessa, he studied her very expressive face. Unlike the ladies of the ton who made serene expressions an art form, Vanessa’s face was almost constantly in motion. She had a habit of worrying her lower lip when she was deep in thought. When she was studying him, which she did with unsettling frequency, her brows danced from a light frown to surprise to something that appeared to be disapproval.

  Which bothered Arthur more than he cared to admit.

  “Does Dumbarton come from money?” Arthur asked. Something was a little off about the professor and he wanted to know more about the man who could influence Vanessa’s future.

  There went one of the eyebrows, cocked in surprise. “I don’t know. We’ve never really discussed our families. Most of our conversations are about cases, although he has expressed an interest in taking me to the continent to familiarize me with the most recent encryption techniques.”

  Arthur’s own eyebrows took a sharp descent into a frown as he imagined Dumbarton’s real reasons for wanting to spirit her away. The very thought made Arthur long to plant him a facer. Vanessa wasn’t a lady, but Dumbarton had no business taking advantage of her. Not that Arthur’s future plans were any more innocent. But he was a gentleman who knew the value of discretion. She might not be well-born, but he’d treat her well. She’d have no reason to regret their liaison.

  “You have an odd look on your face,” said Vanessa, as she studied him once more. “Almost like you’re plotting something. Are you?”

  “Of course not,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t notice the burgeoning erection that had been plaguing him for most of their time in the carriage. “I was just thinking about how we should proceed once we get to Norwich.”

  “So was I. It will be rather late when we arrive, so I believe we should secure a room at the inn Dumbarton directed us to, let the innkeeper know we’ll be
expecting a message, then…” She stopped abruptly as she realized where his eyes had strayed. “Stop looking at my…” She waved her hand in the direction of her bodice.

  “At your what?” asked Arthur innocently.

  She pulled her cloak over her. “This is why I should’ve remained dressed as a lad. To avoid attention such as this.”

  “I hate to disillusion you, sweeting…”

  “I wager you don’t.”

  “Be that as it may, dressing in breeches doesn’t let you blend into the surroundings as you like to think. Unless those surroundings are the most vivid fantasies of a red-blooded male. While your gown hints at certain parts of your anatomy, your breeches leave little to the imagination. Especially when you have such a nicely curved bottom.”

  “I shall thank you not to speak of my bottom,” she said in her most quelling tones, even as her heart began to race.

  “Then I shall just think of it.” Arthur closed his eyes and rested his head back on the leather.

  “Stop that!”

  He opened his eyes and his lips curved into his familiar crooked smile. “Only on one condition.”

  “This is hardly a matter to be negotiated.”

  “Oh, but you’re wrong. Negotiation is at the heart of all human interaction, especially the fun ones. Here are my terms: You give me one kiss. Only one, mind you. I wouldn’t want you to get carried away and take advantage of me. If you give me one kiss, I shall cease picturing you in your breeches and think instead of the kiss.”

  “I would rather you’d think of a way for us to carry out our mission in Norwich.”

  “I’m leaving that to your superior mind.”

  That stopped her from replying. But only for a moment. “Do you really think I have a superior mind?”

  His answer was immediate and straightforward. “Absolutely. It is quite impressive.”

  Vanessa was inordinately pleased with the compliment. “I must say, I did not think you would be attracted to my mind.”

  “What part of you did you think I would admire?”

  “I choose not to answer that. And, yes, I will do it.”

  “You’re going to have to be more specific,” said Arthur, “lest I get my hopes up too high.”

  “I will give you one kiss. Only one.”

  “Excellent, will you come over here or shall I join you?”

  “Neither,” said Vanessa, as she set her cloak aside. “We shall meet in the middle, as all good negotiators do.”

  She angled her knees to one side, then leaned forward. Arthur looked for a moment like he’d prefer to hold out for more opportune circumstances, but then he angled his knees to the side and leaned forward to meet her. Just as his lips were about to touch hers, he said “Don’t think of us as negotiators.”

  “I thought you said negotiation was at the heart of all human interaction.”

  “You’ll soon learn that I spout a great deal of nonsense.”

  “I have already deduced that,” she said, then laughed at his look of mock outrage. “How shall I think of us?” she asked, as her breath tickled his lips.

  “Partners,” he said as he gently brought his lips down onto hers.

  It was meant to be the lightest of kisses, just to pique her interest. It was still Arthur’s intention to distance himself from her. Never mind that his resolve never lasted longer than a few moments in her presence. This was light flirtation, nothing more. And it was a simple, rather sweet kiss. Lips touched, time slowed, then they pulled away.

  It was the kiss after that which sent a jolt through both of them. Just as he was about to lean back in his seat, she reached out and gently placed her hands on his shoulders. It may even have been an involuntary reflex. But once he felt that touch, it was if they’d been pushed together by a force greater than either of them. He returned to her lips and this time he kissed the seam until she opened. His tongue mated with hers. He explored the sweet warmth of her mouth. He drew her closer to him until they were on the edge of their seats. His right hand curved around her waist, as his left found its way to her beautiful hair. She wore it in a low chignon and he luxuriated in the feel of softest silk.

  Her hands were far from idle. One was now at the nape of his neck and the fingertips of the other were resting lightly on his leg. It took all the control Arthur possessed to resist pulling her hand up to his cock. The light pressure was torturing him, but their first time shouldn’t be in a carriage. Ideally, it should be in his large, comfortable bed in Kellington Manor in the country. He could never take a mistress there, of course. But it was the proper setting for a wife. And he and Vanessa would make the most of it. He longed to take her standing up on the balcony in the moonlight, then go for a swim in the lake afterward. Vanessa would enjoy the estate. Lizzie was already fond of her and perhaps they could all go for hikes together.

  Arthur abruptly broke the kiss. How had he ended up fantasizing about family hikes with Vanessa? Something was seriously off kilter with his thinking. Perhaps his long bout of celibacy had damaged his brain. God knew it left the rest of him aching. Which would also explain why two kisses had him out of breath and hard as the blasted Larsen broadsword.

  One look at Vanessa proved she’d reacted just as strongly as he had. Her pupils were enlarged and most of her hair had escaped its bun to curl gracefully about her neck. For one long, glorious moment she looked like she was about to kiss him again, when suddenly she straightened and an almost comical look of horror overtook her. She removed her hand from his hair and pulled her fingers back from his legs as if a meat cleaver were about to strike them.

  Her return to sanity was, from Arthur’s perspective, wise yet rather insulting. He knew why he had to keep his distance from her, but he wasn’t used to women shrinking from him. He hoped he’d never have to become accustomed to it.

  “That cannot happen again,” she said rather breathlessly.

  “Of course not,” said Arthur, hoping it would happen again soon.

  “You should stay over there on your own side of the carriage. I will remain here and work on our plan of what needs to be done in Norkiss…Norwich!”

  Arthur couldn’t hide his answering smile.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Vanessa had never visited Norwich. As an agent with the Home Office, it was her responsibility to acquaint herself with England’s geography and relevant history. But she’d traveled very little and spent most of her time in London. She was surprised to discover that Norwich bore much more resemblance to London’s population and pace than the quiet country villages they’d been passing. It was a city of mills and industry. While it could never compare to London in sophistication and would certainly never be a ton favorite, the wealth and affluence of it was impressive, even if the town as a whole was in decline.

  Dumbarton’s luxurious carriage didn’t attract too much attention as Arthur and Vanessa rumbled into town. They drew to a halt in front of the Majestic Inn. As Arthur helped Vanessa out of the carriage, he whispered “Follow my lead.”

  Follow his lead, indeed, thought Vanessa as they walked toward the inn. He wasn’t the agent, she was. But a part of her was curious to see how well he’d handle himself. She was more impressed with him so far on the journey than she would’ve predicted, although she certainly wouldn’t tell him that. He’d coped with their night under the stars quite well and he’d even allowed Dumbarton to be dismissive of him, despite Arthur’s obvious intelligence. As for the way he kissed... She blinked. Nothing good would be achieved by thinking about that kiss. Even though it had been sublime. A kiss beyond all kisses.

  She blinked again. She really, truly needed to stop thinking about that kiss.

  Especially since she was suddenly aware of Arthur talking to the innkeeper with his rather proprietary hand at her back. “You see,” the smooth charmer said to the man and his wife, “I’d originally planned on a trip to the continent. But nothing else would do but a trip to beautiful Norwich, according to Mrs. Rennard, my lovely wife.
”

  Mrs. Rennard? He was using her alias against her? And wife? At those words the formerly wary innkeeper’s wife grinned at her. And she became aware of Arthur turning to her with that insufferable, crooked grin of his.

  “Darling,” he said. “Don’t you believe this inn will be perfect for our needs?”

  The inn looked too expensive by half, which was very much not what they needed. She wondered what Dumbarton had been about to suggest such a place. She hated depending on Arthur’s largesse, but she was fast running out of funds. Against her better judgment, she told the innkeeper and his wife that it was a lovely establishment and she looked forward to their stay.

  The innkeeper, who’d no doubt seen the fine carriage and assessed their financial worth accordingly, bowed and scraped and promised all sorts of private parlors and delicious fare and heated bathwater. All of that sounded heavenly to Vanessa, even if she hated to think of the cost. As she walked up the stairs to their room which looked out onto the back garden, she tried to come up with a suitable punishment for Arthur’s highhandedness. But all she could think about was spending a night with him in the same room. If anyone would be punished, surely it would be her, having to endure that temptation.

  When the innkeeper had finally bowed himself out and the two of them were alone, Arthur explained himself. “After arriving in that gaudy carriage, I wanted to ensure we’d attract the least amount of attention as possible. Norwich is big, but word does travel. Nothing is more boring to gossips than a happily married couple. I find them rather nauseating myself.” Arthur loosened his cravat. “The good innkeeper and his wife, not to mention the ostler and any onlookers, wanted to see if we were lovers from London come to Norwich for an assignation. Now that they think we’re here on our honeymoon, they’ll go back to gossiping about shop girls and clerks, or whatever it is they gossip about here.”

  “I guess you did put some thought into it,” grumbled Vanessa, a frown creasing her forehead.