At the Earl's Convenience

by Maggi Andersen

  She gasped

  He nodded. “I thought so.”

  Selina leaned forward. “Is he my husband’s friend or not, Mr. Scovell? You must tell me.”

  He drummed his fingers on the desk. “Do what they say, Lady Halcrow. Put the article in the newspaper. When Lord Halcrow appears, I’ll have men there to deal with whoever else shows up.”

  Selina looked the man in the eye. “And if Devereux’s in some kind of trouble, I will have presented him to you on a platter.”

  Scovell looked annoyingly unflappable. “You have my word as a gentleman that Lord Halcrow is not a French spy. No harm will come to him at our hands.”

  Was he telling the truth? She stared into eyes, which, infuriatingly, revealed nothing. “Then why is my husband in hiding?”

  He folded his arms. “It has been said that Wellington treats his men’s lives as no more than mice in an air pump.”

  She scowled. “You’re very good at saying absolutely nothing of relevance, Mr. Scovell.”

  That brought a brief smile to his craggy face. “We need our man to come home and can find no way to contact him. If you don’t do this, with us onside, Lady Halcrow, someone else might attempt it. And they may not have the earl’s safety at heart.”

  Selina rubbed her forehead. “I see I’ll have to trust you. I’ll agree to place the piece in The Times, but I want your assurance that my husband will be made safe.”

  “This may gather more spies in its net, Lady Halcrow, which is assuredly good for England.”

  “That is not a very reassuring answer.”

  He shrugged. “This is not a very reassuring business we’re in.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  In the flickering light of a silver branch of candles, Selina worked late into the night, her discarded efforts screwed up and scattered around her on the floor. She dipped the pen into the inkwell again. She knew so little of Devereux, and they had never been intimate. What could she write that only he and she knew? Then his words came back to her. I’d like to unwrap you like a present… She remembered the fierce, hot look in his eyes, and the blood hummed in her veins. Could she be so bold? It was, without doubt, the one thing he would believe came from her.

  She blushed as she wrote the simple statement: Dear D, your present is here in London and awaits your unwrapping. You know where to find it.

  The next morning, Selina traveled in a hackney with Sarah to The Times editorial office in Printing House Square in Blackfriars. She filled out the form herself to ensure it would appear in the Friday edition, as she’d been instructed.

  She returned to George Scovell on Thursday and told him what she’d done. She was profoundly relieved when, apart from a glimmer of a smile tugging his lips, he failed to ask her what the words meant. He instructed her on what to expect and that she was on no account to leave the house at any time during the night.

  By Friday morning, beyond a cup of strong tea, Selina couldn’t take a bite of breakfast. She could think of nothing but her words appearing in The Times. The butler had brought the newspaper to her, but it remained in front of her until she’d summoned up enough courage to open it. Finally, with shaky hands, she turned the pages. And there it was. Her embarrassing request in black and white. Her cheeks flamed. Would Devereux see it? Pemberton and Scovell seemed confident he would. Scovell had told her the newspaper was routinely used for communications such as this. What would Devereux make of it? Might it draw him further into danger? A part of her began to hope that he wasn’t in London but away somewhere safe. That he would never see it.

  As she must continue to act as normally as possible, she met Amelia for tea at Mivart’s Hotel in Brooke Street in the afternoon.

  The waiter served them afternoon tea while Amelia chatted about a musicale she’d attended the previous evening, which she’d greatly enjoyed. As she rattled on, her intense gaze rested on Selina.

  When Selina offered nothing to the conversation, Amelia’s exuberance died away. She nibbled on seed cake. “When do you expect the earl to return?”

  “I’m not sure of his plans. I do miss him. We must have you and Lord Rowntree to dinner when they are both in London,” Selina said. “What business has taken Lord Rowntree from you?”

  Amelia’s gaze darted away. “He has interests in the north.”

  “Perhaps we’ll have a hunt ball at Halcrow Hall,” Selina mused. “Has Lord Rowntree ever been there?”

  “He has never mentioned visiting,” Amelia said with a sliver of unreadable emotion in her cool eyes.

  “I thought it likely they’d spend holidays together. Which college at Cambridge did Lord Rowntree reside in?”

  “I’m sure he told me.” Amelia shrugged. “I confess I wasn’t much interested.”

  “I do look forward to meeting a friend of my husband’s.” Selina lowered her teacup to the saucer. “Where were you married?”

  Amelia’s eyes narrowed. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Goodness, is that the time? I must go. I have another engagement.” She stood and held out her hand. “It was delightful to see you again, Lady Halcrow.”

  “We must do this again soon,” Selina said, noting the formal address.

  “Ah, yes. We must make it soon.” Amelia gathered up her gloves and reticule and hurried from the hotel.

  The hackney put Selina down in Park Lane. She searched the street for a sign the house was watched, but could find nothing unusual. Surely not the flower seller, the street sweeper down on the corner, the old peddler hawking wares, or the governess ushering her charges into the park.

  Verbal fencing with Amelia had been draining. Selina’s shoulders sagged as she entered the house. The stress of the previous weeks had begun to take its toll. How fitting was Shakespeare: When sorrows come, they come not single spies but in battalions.

  She toyed with her dinner and claimed she was accustomed to country hours, retiring early to bed with no intention of sleeping. She must stay alert for any sign but closed her eyes for a moment to rest them.

  Something woke her. Silvery moonlight rimmed the curtains. She lifted her head, fearing the full moon could prove deadly for Giles. His given name had popped unprompted into her head. Devereux had become Giles to her and would remain so, forever. A stealthy shadow crossed the room. She opened her mouth, but before she could utter a word, a hand clamped down and silenced her.

  The mattress dipped when he settled on the bed beside her.

  Her heart fluttered in her chest like a caged bird’s. She sucked in air as though it was her last breath. And maybe it was.

  She considered biting the hand if it wasn’t Giles. Then she detected the scent of musk. “You wished to see me, my lady?”

  She trembled and shook her head, attempting to peel his fingers away from her mouth.

  “You promise to be quiet?”

  When she nodded, he removed his hand. “Surely you didn’t come through the window?” she whispered. “We are two stories above the road.”

  “The roof of the neighboring house is quite handy.”

  “You jumped across?”

  “Shush.” Rising, he opened the curtains, and moonlight brightened the room. He struggled out of his coat and reefed off his cravat.

  She longed to see his dear face. “Unless you close them, I can’t light a candle.”

  “That’s not wise, Selina. The house will be watched.”

  “I know, I.…”

  “You set me up?” His voice had a steely edge.

  “I did not. Mr. Scovell is behind this.”

  “When did you speak to the spymaster?”

  “Scovell is the spymaster? I went to consult him. This is not exactly his idea, but he needs to see you urgently.”

  “Does he indeed?” he said, his tone ironic. He released a long, audible breath. “Have you missed me?”

  “Of course,” she said in a choked voice.

  “Despite all I’ve done to you?”

  “I believe you had good reason.” Sh
e would question the manner of it, however. But now was not the time. All her thoughts were superfluous but one. She wanted his arms around her, and more… She didn’t know precisely what it was she wanted, but she was shuddering with desire.

  “I’ve given you little reason to trust me.” His breath was warm against her ear.

  “That’s true. You haven’t.”

  His laugh was low, throaty, and made her tremble. Would she ever be able to win an argument? The man was so annoyingly magnetic. She wanted answers to her questions, but having him so close was like an opiate. Her brain couldn’t focus. Desire mixed with blind fear. She wanted to push him away and tell him to run and draw him back against her at the same time. She trembled and stroked his hair, remembering the intimacy of cutting it.

  “You never cease to amaze me, Selina. I chose you because you were imperturbable and smart. I thought you’d make the perfect wife for someone in my situation. You’ve been all that, sweetheart, but so much more. You’ve been my lifesaver in a stormy sea.”

  Her throat tightened on tears. She hadn’t expected such a ringing endorsement from him, and even though it wasn’t a declaration of love, it would do. If only…

  His finger stroked down her cheek. “What’s this? You’re crying?”

  Had she been a pawn in his fate? “Is Lord Pemberton a loyal friend?”

  “Pem? I believe so.”

  “He and some other friends suspect you spy for the French.”

  “They are not alone in that view.”

  “They still want to help you.”

  “Do they indeed? I confess to being skeptical. Even if my name is cleared, spying isn’t seen as an honorable profession. My reputation as an officer and a gentleman has been dragged through the mud.”

  “You should go.” She pushed against his rock-hard arm. “They will have seen the piece in the paper and know you’re here. Let Scovell’s men deal with them.”

  He took her hand and enveloped it in his big, warm one. “I’ll be gone before daybreak.”

  “Daybreak? You can stay that long?”

  “ We are safe for a few hours.”

  Unconvinced, she shivered, as ice ran down her spine. “I need to understand.”

  “I shall tell you as much as I can, in due course. But not now.” With a soft groan, his mouth slid over hers, silencing her. Her hands roamed down his back to draw up his shirt, urgently seeking his warm, smooth skin.

  Giles teased her lips apart. His tender assault of the cavern of her mouth was incredibly arousing. His hand cradled her head as her tongue danced with his and she abandoned herself to the whirl of sensation.

  His powerful body settled half over hers, his hardness pressing at the apex of her legs through his breeches, as an aching tension built. “I wish I had more time. Hours, months, years to enjoy you and to teach you all the wonders of lovemaking,” he whispered.

  “I’ll insist on it when we return home,” she said, her voice catching in her throat, willing herself to believe it. She took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his, as if to prove it true.

  He dragged his mouth from hers and stroked up her ribcage, to tweak a nipple through the thin cloth of her nightgown, producing a shuddering ecstasy. Warmth pooled between her thighs.

  “You smell so sweet, Selina, and your body so warm and soft.” He bunched her nightgown up to her thighs. “Shall I unwrap my present first before I’m driven mad with desire?”

  She caught her breath. “Yes, Giles, yes.”

  “Damn, I wish I could see you more clearly. You’re so lovely.” He cupped her breasts in his hands and thumbed the nipples.

  Her senses spun and she could hardly speak for the pleasure of it. “Men think I’m too tall.”

  “More fools they. Must be blind.” His hand moved gently over her thigh.

  She tried to search his face for reassurance, but it was too dark to make out his expression. “Giles—”

  “Hush. No more questions. Why does this thing have so many buttons?” Giles pulled apart the front of her nightgown with an impatient snap of his strong wrist. “I’ll buy you new ones, not so demure.” His voice was an impatient growl. “Not that you’ll have much need of them.” He buried his face between the valley of her breasts then took a nipple in his mouth. She threw back her head with a moan, abandoning herself to the caress of his tongue. The breathless sense of urgency grew almost unbearable. She gripped his shirt. “I want you inside me.”

  “I want it too, sweetheart.” He brushed over her mound through her nightgown then grasped the hem, drawing the linen up to her waist. His fingers found that sensitive spot and stoked the fire burning inside her. A finger slipped inside her moist heat.

  Selena gasped. “Oh dear heaven!”

  Giles rolled away and stood. He discarded clothes as she waited, frustrated at not being able to clearly see him.

  “I can’t stay as long as I’d like. Forgive me.” His laugh was tight with raw need. “I did warn you that you were getting a poor bargain with me.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  With one swift motion, Giles stripped off her nightgown. He lay beside her again, and she ran her hands over his body, as if wanting to know all of him. She took his manhood in her hands.

  “So hot, silky and hard,” she murmured.

  With a groan, he pushed her back, his mouth claiming hers in a fierce kiss, his tongue tracing the honeyed sweetness of her mouth.

  “There’s so much I want us to share, sweetheart,” he said when he drew away. “But much of it will have to wait.”

  Trying to control his rampant desire, he kissed his way down over her soft curves almost as if he was committing her to memory. He slid his tongue over the seam of her sex and, with feathery strokes, toyed with that little kernel of flesh within her folds.

  “Giles….” She stopped protesting and grabbing his hair, and fell back with a moan.

  He grasped her knees, easing them apart, and settled on top of her. With a careful gradual slide, he pushed into her slick wetness, silencing her cry with his kiss. He paused to allow her body to accept to his invasion. “Shall I go on?”

  “Oh don’t stop now, Giles.”

  He retreated and pushed in again, deeper into her core. The deep sense of connection was profoundly moving. He saw it was for Selina too and his heart thudded. Moonlight picked out the tears gathered in her eyes. He kissed them away from her cheek. “Am I hurting you?”

  “No, it’s…you’re…incredible.”

  “It will be, next time.”

  While he wanted to make love to her for hours, he knew he couldn’t. With a groan, he increased his pace and drove harder as she drew her legs up around his hips. Selina’s rhythm matched his, and she raised her hips to meet each thrust. He wanted to make this moment special for her, aware that it might be their only time together. Her breathy mews of pleasure thrilled him. The first time was seldom good for a woman, especially tonight with the pall of danger hanging over him.

  ****

  With a soft moan, Selina surrendered herself to Giles’ masterful seduction. Her hands roamed the satiny skin of his back, the corded muscles of his forearms, and the flexing of his powerful buttocks, as he pushed inside her. Foolishly, she felt a moment’s reassurance at his strength, as if that would protect him from what he must face when he went out into the night. But she was being carried away, and her thoughts disappeared at the desperate need to reach an incomprehensive goal. Their panting breaths mingled, and when his fingers found that needy nub again, he sparked a rush of sensation. She cried out, and a surge of pleasure engulfed her in drugging waves.

  Giles groaned and stilled. “I hope no one heard that,” he said with a soft laugh. “They will be wondering what you are up to, my lady.”

  She laughed softly in the lethargy of spent passion and put her hand to his cheek. “I expect they’ll think I’m dreaming.” She wondered for a moment if she was.

  As their breaths slowed, he pulled the covers over them
. The fire had guttered hours ago, and the night air had begun to chill the sweat on their bodies.

  “I can’t stay much longer, but there’s time enough to tell you a story.”

  Despite the nagging fear, which had never left her, here in his arms, she felt sleepy and replete.

  “After the Battle of Badajoz, I had no stomach for the army anymore,” he began. “I lost so many of my closest comrades in that battle. It came home to me after that that, if I died before I had an heir, the Halcrow lineage would die with me. I thought it meant more to my father, but after he was gone and I was in danger of losing it all, I realized how much a part of that past I am. The history of our family lies within Halcrow Hall. We aristocrats live on borrowed time, Selina. Whether England goes the way of France one day, or if it does not, our way of life will inevitably change. But until that day comes, I couldn’t let the Hall crumble into a ruin.”

  He sighed. “Father disapproved of my joining the Hussars. Because I wasn’t the favored son, I did it anyway, perhaps to spite him.” He paused. “No. Not just that. I must confess I harbored misplaced boyish dreams of heroism.”

  “Which you have achieved,” Selina whispered.

  “There’s a Latin saying, Horace, I think it is, which describes my predicament: Delirant reges, plectuntur Achivi. Kings make mistakes, and the Greeks are punished.” He ran his hand through his hair. “If Wellington makes a miscalculation, it is his men who must carry the consequences.” He sighed. “History will judge me, Selina; I have no stomach for it.”

  He stroked her breast, rekindling the fire within her. She could never get enough of him. She forced herself to concentrate on his words.

  “When I was forced by my circumstances to marry an heiress, I believed myself too cynical for love. You’ve changed that.” He nuzzled her cheek. “Your courage, your loyalty, your faith in me, made me want to be worthy of you,” he said huskily. “I wasn’t very nice, was I, when I was sick? And you cared for me so unselfishly. I was bitter that I’d failed at the first hurdle. I’d let you down when I was whisked off to France without warning. But there was urgent work to do.”