Revolutionary Temptation

by Silvia Violet

  When he’d nearly completed his circuit of the room, he saw Mr. West leaning on a cane in the doorway to the gaming room, listening to an elderly officer prattling on.

  Eli once again made note of the way West held himself. He was a military man, Eli would swear it. So why wasn’t he owning up to it? Perhaps because he held a commission in Washington’s army rather than His Majesty’s? West appeared to do an exceptional job pretending to listen to Colonel Archer Jenkins. The man bored everyone with his stories, and yet West appeared almost eager for more.

  West looked up and caught Eli staring. Their gazes held for the span of several heartbeats. Eli couldn’t breathe. The intensity in West’s expression sent heat spiraling through him. He wanted this man like he hadn’t wanted anyone in a long time.

  “Enjoying the evening so far?”

  Eli jumped and quickly looked away from his quarry.

  “Did I startle you?” Mrs. Sullivan asked.

  “Yes, but you’re forgiven. It is my fault for being lost in thought.”

  She glanced toward West, letting Eli know she’d seen exactly where his thoughts had been. “I hope your thoughts were pleasant.”

  Again he got the sense Mrs. Sullivan knew far more than she should. “Everything about the evening has indeed been pleasant. Now that you are here, it is exquisite.”

  She laughed, a high, lilting sound. “You’re very good at this.”

  “As are you.”

  “True, but while I play the game well, I prefer to simply be honest.”

  Eli raised his brows. “What honest confession would you like to make?”

  “Several, but none of them here.” She gestured toward the doors that opened into the gardens. “Shall we?”

  “I believe it my duty to inform you that it is quite cold out, and you might take a chill.”

  “Your adherence to duty is noted, sir, but I think we are both aware that I am not so delicate as others of my sex.”

  On any other night, if a woman invited him to step outside into the deserted gardens, he’d assume she was interested in engaging in activity sure to warm them up on this cold night. Tonight, he knew better. Mrs. Sullivan had a number of lovely bedrooms upstairs and little need to protect her innocence.

  She had something to say that needed more privacy. A shiver ran over him with the certain knowledge that this evening was going to change his life, perhaps even more than when his uncle grudgingly gave him charge of the bookshop.

  “Surely you’re not afraid of the cold, sir?”

  “Certainly not.” He held out his arm for her and let her lead him into the chilly night.

  “I’ve come to believe we have a lot in common,” she said as they walked down the steps from the veranda onto the gravel path.

  “A love of fine things—clothes, food, wine. A desire to be in the center of everything?”

  She tapped his arm with her fan. “You are too much.”

  “Why thank you,” he returned.

  “And we are neither one of us what we seem.”

  Eli scoffed, stopping by a bench distant enough from the house as to ensure no one overheard. “I assure you, I am everything you think I am.”

  “You are quite forward, sir.”

  “I mean no offense.” The soft smile he bestowed on her was calculated to make him appear as innocent as he could.

  “No, you mean to flirt,” she said, lowering herself to the bench and bidding him to join her.

  “How can I resist when my companion is so beautiful, intelligent, and full of life?”

  “Could the same not be said of you, sir? Everyone was watching you in there. Though I’m not sure they understand what you truly are.”

  “An opportunist?”

  She raised her brows. “You are quick to condemn yourself.”

  “I am quick to be honest.”

  “Are you?”

  He smiled sweetly. “When it profits me to be.”

  “By admitting such a thing you hope to make me believe quite the opposite.” Her tone said she was certain of her statement.

  “You think me that cunning?”

  “I do.”

  He inclined his head her way. “I am flattered, madam.”

  “You see opportunities and you take them, but that wasn’t what I was referring to.”

  “What else is there for us until these rebels are defeated?” He was deliberately provoking her. Would she rise to the bait?

  “A chance to change everything.”

  “And here I thought you were interested in my considerable charms.”

  She laughed as she gave him a once-over. “As considerable as your charms are, I am not in search of a lover.”

  “What exactly are you searching for, then?”

  She pulled a letter from her bodice. The names of the sender and the recipient had been cut away, but he knew immediately that the handwriting was his.

  Anger flared, heating his face. “You stole my personal correspondence.”

  “Interesting. I expected you to deny it was yours.”

  “What is the point of that?” He was a man who faced things squarely, and he’d always been able to talk his way out of anything. That wasn’t going to change now.

  She handed him the letter. “I didn’t steal it; I borrowed it.”

  “And altered it.”

  “I couldn’t carry it around otherwise; too risky. But aren’t you curious why I needed proof of your…activities?”

  “To use it as blackmail against me, of course.”

  She shook her head. “No, to recruit you.”

  “Recruit me?”

  “Ah, finally. I’ve surprised you.”

  “You’re telling me you’re engaged in anonymous activities that do no credit to the king?” A nagging suspicion had remained with him, but he’d never truly thought her a rebel spy. Now West’s presence made even more sense. He was surely a rebel officer in disguise.

  She nodded. “I am.”

  “And you think…”

  “That you will assist me? Yes.”

  Eli had come to the city to improve his finances and make a name for himself, well aware that he could never truly succeed in that with the British in charge. He’d forever be seen as a backward colonist. The king’s army had no respect for Americans. Anyone could see that by their dreadful treatment of innocent civilians.

  “I’m no hero,” Eli protested.

  “I’m not looking for one. You deal in books, in information, and…in other less legitimate affairs. I need someone with your connections.”

  “Just how involved in these anonymous activities are you?” Was this a game to her or something more?

  “Deeply.” They rose, and she took his arm. “I’m chilled. Let’s continue our walk.”

  He raised a brow when she moved close. They were nearly touching. “I thought you were interested in my information?”

  “I am, but so are others. I must protect our privacy. It wouldn’t do for someone to begin to question our association.”

  “You want anyone who sees us to assume we’re lovers.”

  “Are you worried about your virtue?”

  He laughed. “My virtue, if it ever existed, is long gone.”

  “You shock me, sir.”

  He scoffed. “What happened to your love of honesty?”

  “We’re going to work perfectly together.”

  “You, me, and Mr. West?”

  She smiled, clearly pleased that he already knew the man’s true purpose. “Captain West, if we’re being honest.”

  “An officer.” He should never have doubted his instincts.

  She nodded.

  “In the continental army.” He lowered his voice so much he wasn’t sure she heard him, but she nodded again.

  “Yes, and thankfully it appears I’ll have little need to teach you how to be observant.”

  “So you’re the leader of a…”

  “Band of spies if you prefer to dramatize it,” she said.
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br />   He gave her a wicked grin. “Why not? We might as well make this as fun as it can be.”

  “Oh, you and Jack will get along nicely.”

  “Jack, is it?”

  “And you must call me Constance. We must trust each other as intimates.”

  “And how did you meet Captain West?”

  She turned to him and narrowed her eyes. “Jealous?”

  He laid a hand over his heart. “You wound me, madam. I’m curious. And skeptical.”

  “Skeptical is good, but he came to me directly from the general.”

  “Washington himself?”

  “Yes.”

  He would never have guessed Constance was acquainted with Washington. “Is the general a personal friend?”

  “His wife is. From when I was a girl and played with her daughter.”

  “And he trusts you?”

  “Yes, but you do not.”

  Clearly she was just as observant as Eli was. “I don’t trust anyone.”

  “It’s easier that way, but we must have some level of trust if we are to complete our mission.”

  “You have other connections in this intelligence game?”

  She nodded. “I do, but it’s best if we are not all aware of each other for now.”

  “Rivington is one of them. You knew about him before you found my letter.”

  She smiled. “I can see I’ll have to work hard to stay ahead of you.”

  “I saw you there.”

  She patted his arm. “I know. I watched you after I left.”

  She was good at this. “Touché.”

  “As amusing as this is, attempting to outdo one another is no way to work together.”

  He inclined his head, studying her expression in the moonlight. She appeared to be in earnest. “No, you are right. It won’t do at all.”

  “Will you join us?”

  He was already working for the rebel cause, but this venture seemed far more significant than anonymous essays. He wouldn’t let fear stop him, though. It never had. “Yes.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jack stood near the doors to the gardens, watching Constance and Ashfield approach. The torches Constance had placed on the veranda to illuminate the winter evening gave enough light for him to make out Ashfield’s fluid movements. His flashy ensemble gleamed in the flickering light. The tailoring was perfection itself. His coat hugged his lithe body, and Jack could only imagine how perfect his ass must look in his tight breeches.

  No. He had to stop thinking of Ashfield that way. It would not do for him to associate with the man beyond the contact essential to carrying out their unpleasant business.

  Ashfield smiled at Constance as they approached the doors, and Jack’s breath caught. No one should look that good, like a golden god of the ancients. Even if he wanted to risk a liaison, Ashfield could have any man or woman he chose. Despite the way he’d behaved at his shop, Jack was far too plain, too sedate, to attract a man like Ashfield.

  Remember the way he looked at you earlier?

  Ashfield’s gaze had said Jack was a rich dessert and Ashfield wanted to devour him.

  No. Jack laughed at himself. What nonsense. Ashfield was simply sizing him up, studying him the way Constance had taught Jack to do. He would wager Ashfield was a natural at such observations. Constance had said she believed she and Ashfield were very alike.

  Ashfield—not Jack—was the perfect spy. Jack should go back to the Morristown encampment and let Ashfield and Constance take care of things in the city.

  Ashfield held the door open for Constance to enter the ballroom. As soon as they reached him, Constance laid a hand on Jack’s arm. “I was going to seek you out. How fortunate that I do not have to struggle through this crowd to find you.”

  Jack bowed. “I’m at your service.”

  “And I am ever grateful. I think this is an excellent time for you and Mr. Ashfield to become better acquainted. Why don’t you retire to the small parlor on the second floor? The one where we’ve taken tea together.”

  Apparently ‘taking tea’ was a euphemism for spying lessons. “Won’t you join us?” Jack asked, not liking the notion of being alone with Ashfield.

  “I’m afraid I cannot. I have promised a number of dances to the officers I’ve befriended. As hostess I could hardly abandon my guests.”

  “No, I would not ask that of you,” Jack said. He glanced at Ashfield. The damn man smirked at him.

  “I promise to be on my best behavior, even without Mrs. Sullivan acting as chaperone.”

  “I never suggested—” Jack stopped himself, realizing how snappish he sounded.

  “Mr. West is used to retiring much earlier, having lived in the country,” Constance said. “You’ll have to forgive him if he’s not at his best.”

  “Already forgiven,” Ashfield said, his voice as smooth as ever. “Lead on, sir.”

  Jack turned and made for the stairs. He was being terribly rude, and Ashfield didn’t deserve that. But the knowing look he was giving Jack was both infuriating and damnably attractive. The difficulty of moving through crowds with his leg paining him and growing weaker the longer he exerted himself did nothing to improve his mood.

  Eli followed close on his heels. “How is your leg? Would you like some assistance?”

  “I can manage perfectly well—” As he said the words, a man jostled him, and his knee buckled. Eli caught his arm and helped him stand.

  “Thank you.” Eli didn’t relinquish his hold, and Jack decided accepting Eli’s assistance was better than falling on his face, though he remained conscious of who might be watching. There was, of course, no reason for anyone to find fault in Eli assisting an injured man, humiliating as the need for such was. Yet he felt as if everyone knew his body’s reaction to Eli’s proximity. Was it as obvious as he feared that he’d like to drag Ashfield to a bedroom and sodomize him soundly?

  Would he ever be able to relax enough with this beguiling man to work with him? Perhaps if they simply—

  No. Images of what had happened to Dominic, Jack’s first lover, swirled in his mind, filled with death, blood, and sick fear. He would have to keep as much distance between himself and Ashfield as possible.

  They entered the private parlor, and Ashfield closed and secured the door. Jack took a seat and was thankful when Ashfield positioned himself far enough away that Jack couldn’t give in to the intense temptation to touch Ashfield’s golden hair and find out if its silkiness was truth or illusion.

  Ashfield crossed his legs as if deliberately showing off their perfection. “Constance tells me you are, in fact, Captain West, and Washington himself sent you here.”

  Jack nodded. “She tells the truth.”

  “So what need have you of me?”

  Oh, so many, and not a one of them decent. How did Ashfield make his voice so sensuous? He would sound so good in bed, dirty words on those too-pink lips. “I…”

  “You don’t trust me, do you?”

  If only that was all he was thinking. “Constance does.”

  “And that’s enough for you?”

  “I only met her a few days ago myself. At this moment, I’m not sure what I believe,” Jack said as he ran a hand through his hair.

  The band holding his ponytail slid off, and Ashfield reached out and caught the piece of leather as it fell. Their hands brushed when Jack reached for it. Ashfield’s skin was warm despite the chill night. Warm but not as soft as it would be if he were the man of wealth and privilege he pretended to be. He’d actually worked to get where he was.

  Jack smiled, knowing Constance would be proud of his careful observation.

  “Surprised I can be polite?” Ashfield asked.

  He wasn’t sure “polite” was the correct term. Flirtatious? Forward? Provoking? Yes. “Constance has been teaching me to observe more, to see the things other people don’t say outright.”

  “And observing me amuses you?” Ashfield’s smile had lethal power.

  “Perhaps it does.�
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  “I’d rather it impressed you.”

  “Oh, you’ve certainly made an impression.” Ashfield looked positively delighted. Why was he encouraging the man?

  “Tell me about yourself,” Ashfield said.

  “All you need to know is that I’m gathering information while the army is encamped for the winter.” Jack kept his voice low. With so many people in the house, he wasn’t comfortable discussing his activities, especially considering how many of the men were officers. However, there wasn’t anywhere more private they could go.

  Your bedroom.

  No, absolutely not. It would never do to have Ashfield there.

  “That may be all I need to know, but I’d like to know more. You intrigue me.”

  “There’s nothing mysterious about me,” Jack said, massaging his leg as the muscles seized up. “I was a farmer. Now I’m a soldier. I was injured, shot in the leg by the enemy. I’m here because I can’t do training drills right now.”

  “And you find spying beneath you?”

  He looked up. Once his eyes met Ashfield’s, he couldn’t look away. The man saw too much, Jack was sure of that. He wasn’t going to be able to hide from him.

  “You’re angry at your physical restrictions and think your mission ungentlemanly. You don’t like the city, and you don’t like men like me.”

  “Men like you?”

  Ashfield smiled. “Men who openly long for money and power. Men who are…unrestrained.”

  “I do not know you well enough to form an opinion of you, Mr. Ashfield.”

  “I must insist you take me up on the offer to use my Christian name. Considering how intimate we are going to be. Keeping to formality is absurd when we are trusting each other with treasonous secrets and perhaps our very lives.”

  “You’re right, of course.”

  Eli nodded, looking quite smug. Jack had to clarify.

  “I did not mean to imply that I had a low opinion of you, merely that we are going to have to put our trust in each other.”

  Eli brushed the comment away with a flick of his hand. “I took no offense. I hope to change your mind, about the city, and perhaps other things.”

  “I’m never going to truly approve of spying, but I’ve accepted that it’s necessary.”