The King's Code (The Lady Spies Series #3): A Regency Historical Romance

by Samantha Saxon

  “I trust you reconciled matters with Mister McCurren.”

  “Oh, yes, we shared everything there was to share and a bit more.”

  Much more.

  “Glad to hear it.” Mister Habernathy’ s smile was full of relief. “See you tomorrow morning.”

  Juliet stilled, wanting nothing more than to curl into a ball and die on that very spot.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ~

  It was all Seamus could do to wait until the opera’s intermission before walking into the box of the Marquis Shelton, looking for Christian.

  “Good evening,” Seamus said as he parted the curtain to the marquis’s coveted box.

  Christian was already standing and Ian St. John turned around to see who had been so presumptuous as to invade their privacy.

  “Good evening, McCurren,” Christian St. John said, his grin amiable. “Might I introduce to you, Baroness Petrovna?”

  “How do you do?” Seamus bowed and the woman inclined her head, no doubt pulled forward by the weight of the enormous diamonds encircling her lovely neck.

  “Very well, thank you,” the baroness said, her accented English harsh on the ear.

  However, the lady was far from harsh on the eyes. Her strawberry-blond hair was flawless, and her face looked as though it had been painted from a man’s sensual dreams. Seamus had no doubt that the woman knew how to warm a man’s bed, but there was something decidedly cold about the Russian baroness.

  “You are acquainted with Shelton and Lady Felicity, of course.” Christian’s jovial voice warmed them all as they exchanged greetings.

  Seamus then said to Christian when the niceties were out of the way, “Might I have a word?”

  “Certainly.” Christian smiled and then looked at his older brother. “I’ll just go down and have another bottle of champagne sent up, shall I?”

  Ian agreed with a nod and they left, diving into the crush of operagoers seeking refreshment.

  “So what did you think of her?” Christian asked with wide eyes.

  “I like Lady Felicity ver—”

  “Not Felicity, you blackguard.” Christian shook his head, irritated. “The baroness?”

  “She’s stunning.”

  Christian stopped and looked directly at Seamus. “You don’t like her.”

  “I saw her for all of five seconds.”

  “And in those five seconds you have determined that you dislike her?”

  Seamus shrugged, not one to lie. “Aye.”

  “A bit cold, don’t you think?”

  “Like a Russian winter.”

  “Not her, you!” Christian sighed. “She’s fantastic in bed.”

  “I’ve no doubt that she is, Christian.”

  “You think I should get rid of the lady? My father and brother do,” he mumbled and then grabbed a passing footman and two glasses of champagne. “Would you send a bottle of your best champagne to the box of the Marquis Shelton?”

  “Right away, my lord.”

  “Now,” Christian turned and looked at Seamus. “As to your problem. What is it and how can I help?”

  Seamus looked around and then walked to an empty alcove, drawing the thick velvet curtain. “I kissed Lady Juliet today.”

  “You kissed Juliet! Are you stark raving mad?” Christian’s blue-gray eyes gleamed with irritation. “You know how hard we’ve been working to restore her reputation.”

  “I know.” Seamus closed his eyes against his guilt. “Perhaps it will ease your sensibilities to know that the lass kissed me first.”

  Christian took a step back. “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not.”

  “That little hellion.” Christian was shaking his head. “Juliet has been mad about men for as long as I’ve known her.”

  Seamus felt a sharp pain in his chest. “Really?”

  “Thank God, most men were too intimidated by the woman to go anywhere near her. But to thrill seekers like Lord Barksdale, Juliet was an irresistible challenge. Still is, no doubt.”

  “Yes, I had heard that they were . . . connected,” Seamus said, his voice brittle.

  Christian looked up. “Mind you, Barksdale fell hard once they began seeing one another. Absolutely besotted ever since and was truly crushed by the whole Harrington business.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for the bastard just yet.” Seamus smirked. “He’s since asked the lady to become his mistress.”

  “What?” Christian tightened his grip on his champagne flute and it shattered in his hand. “Damn it all!”

  “Here.” Seamus retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket as Christian set the jagged stem on the nearest windowsill.

  “Thank you.” Christian wrapped the handkerchief around the gash in his right hand and was looking down when he asked, “Is that why you kissed her, because she was crying about Lord Barksdale? I’ve never been able to deal with a woman’s tears either.”

  Seamus laughed. “Oh, Juliet was not crying about Robert Barksdale. She was right furious with the man.”

  “Sounds like Juliet, much more capable than most women.” Christian’s grin held a deep affection. “So, why did you kiss her then, Seamus?”

  “I don’t know, that is why I’m coming to you. Daniel has been useless, thinks my kissing Juliet Pervill is bloody amusing.”

  “You are behaving rather oddly.” Christian nodded. “But why come to me, of all people?”

  Seamus gave a frustrated sigh. “I have to see the lass tomorrow, and with the amount of lovers you’ve had, I knew that you would have run into this situation once or twice.”

  “Oh, I see.” Christian grinned. “Best thing to do when encountering an old lover is ignore it. Don’t ignore her, just pretend that nothing has happened between you and avoid the subject at all costs.”

  “That does not seem a mature way to handle the situation.”

  “I find maturity highly overvalued.” The bell rang for the start of the third act and Christian turned his head in the direction of the reverberating noise. He lifted the curtain to the alcove then stopped, looking back at Seamus. “You never did tell me why you kissed Juliet.”

  Seamus shook his head. “Proximity?”

  Christian laughed. “Good luck, Seamus. But if you do anything more than kiss Juliet Pervill, I will be forced to call you out.”

  The curtain fell and Seamus stared at the folds of the shifting chartreuse, unsure if Christian had been jesting.

  ≈

  “Stop picking at your food, Juliet.” Her mother had been ordering the same instruction for as long as she could remember.

  Juliet sat up and sighed, making her decision.

  “May I ask you both a question?” She looked at her mother and cousin, thankful that her uncle had gone out for the evening.

  “Leave us,” the countess told the six footmen posted around the dining room. When the doors had closed and they were alone, her mother stared at her. “What is it you wish to ask, Juliet?”

  “In your experience . . .” She spoke to them both as they had far more dealings with men, varied though those dealings may be, but primarily because she was desperate for an answer. “Why would a gentleman who is wealthy, handsome, experienced, and a renowned bachelor kiss an innocent young lady?”

  “Someone has kissed you?” Felicity asked, sounding as though she already knew the answer.

  “Yes.” My God, was she so easy to read? “The first time I thought he did it to ruffle my feathers, but today—”

  “The first time? Today!” The countess was appalled. “This man has kissed you twice?”

  “Well, to be fair, I kissed him today.”

  “You kissed this gentleman today?” Juliet was cut off by the force of her mother’s accusation.

  “Yes.” She felt a growing weight in the pit of her stomach when her mother’s demeanor turned flippant.

  “We are all clever women.” The countess smiled, pushing her dinner plate forward and placing her elbows on the table, her hand
s bound together in exaggerated contemplation. “Let us see if we can come up with a reason why a handsome, wealthy, experienced gentleman of the ton would welcome the favors of a woman reported to give them away.”

  Tears moistened Juliet’s eyes and she glanced at her mother. “I take your point.”

  However, Felicity was shaking her head adamantly. “No, Seamus McCurren is a true gentleman. He would never take advantage of an innocent lady.”

  Juliet looked across the table, shocked. “How did you know I was referring to Seamus?”

  “I sent him up to your sitting room. Remember?”

  “Juliet?” Her mother always knew when there was more to any given story. “You allowed this man in your sitting room?”

  She turned to face her mother. “I saw Robert Barksdale that morning, and being . . . distraught, I did not feel up to going into the Foreign Office, so Mister McCurren came to me.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard.” Her mother stared at her. “But explain to me how your discussion of matters political turned into his kissing you?”

  “I’m not sure.” Lady Pervill raised a brow and Juliet confessed, “Well, perhaps I was a bit more open in my admiration of Mister McCurren’s academic abilities than perhaps I should have—”

  “How could you allow a gentleman into your cousin’s room?” Her mother was staring at Felicity, who paled with the weight of responsibility. “You know how much she enjoys them.”

  “I don’t ‘enjoy’ men.” Juliet was indignant.

  “I am speaking of enjoying them intellectually, not physically, although it sounds as if you are venturing quite willingly into that carnal realm.”

  “I . . . Mister McCurren wanted to discuss matters at the Foreign Office so I thought it best, given their positions, that they were given some privacy.” Felicity turned to Juliet, begging forgiveness. “I never would have left you alone with Mister McCurren if I for one moment thought you were in any danger.”

  “I wasn’t in any danger. He barely kissed me,” she lied.

  “Oh.” Felicity’s eyes went wide. “I thought . . . Well, with his cravat—”

  “His cravat?” The countess kept Felicity on point.

  “Mister McCurren must have . . .” Felicity blushed. “Retied it upstairs as it was different than when he arrived.”

  Juliet dropped her head in her hands, unable to picture a more shameful scenario.

  “Well.” The countess held up a glass of wine. “I think we’ve just discovered why a wealthy, handsome bachelor of the ton would continue to kiss a ruined young lady. A lady we have all been trying so desperately to bring back into favor.”

  “Oh, I don’t think Mister McCurren would speak of Juliet’s lapse with anyone,” Felicity assured her aunt.

  “You didn’t think the man would kiss an innocent girl either.”

  Come to think of it, his kissing her was not very gentlemanly. Even if she wanted him to, he should never have done it.

  What if he did mention their encounter to someone? Juliet’s heart sped up. Not that Seamus would intentionally try to ruin all the work her friends had done to restore her reputation.

  Oh, God.

  “I just . . .” Felicity was still shaking her head, “I just don’t believe Seamus McCurren would take advantage of Juliet.”

  “The question, Felicity dear”—her mother took a sip of sherry—“is whether you believe Juliet would take advantage of him.”

  ≈

  “May I speak with Mister McCurren, please?” Juliet smiled prettily at the impressive butler.

  “I’m afraid Mister McCurren has retired for the evening.” The man’s demeanor was pleasant and he clearly did not expect his announcement to be challenged.

  “Well, resurrect him,” Juliet said, pushing past the flustered man.

  “I . . . I’m afraid that that is not possible.” The butler made the mistake of glancing at the first door on his left. “Mister McCurren is unavailable.”

  “Really?” Frantic, Juliet walked to the tall mahogany doors and knocked loudly. “Mister McCurren, you will remember me, Lady Juliet Pervill? I very much need to speak with you and fear that I am making your butler very distressed.”

  Seamus yanked open the door and smiled caustically. “You do seem to have that effect on people, Lady Juliet.”

  McCurren ushered her into his study and only then did she see that he was in his dressing gown. He really had retired? Rather earlier than she would have thought.

  “Do you recall coming to my home Monday last?” Juliet asked, cutting to the chase.

  “Yes, I seem to recall a thing or two about that visit.” Seamus poured himself a brandy, his broad back to her.

  “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

  “Tell anyone what?”

  “That you kissed me?” Juliet held her breath, waiting for him to answer.

  “I’m surprised you remember.” He smiled charmingly. “You were a bit . . . indisposed at the time. Brandy?”

  She blushed and tried to sound convincing when she asked, “Was I?”

  “Yes. Scotch, if I recall your preferred poison.” He lifted his snifter to his lips.

  “Felicity knows.”

  “Knows what?” He shrugged. “That you kissed me in your bedchamber?”

  “You kissed me!”

  “So you do remember?” He leaned forward as if imparting some great secret. “I was beginning to think I was losing my touch.”

  Oh, how Juliet wished to tell him that he was, but even she was not that convincing.

  “Felicity noted that you left her home sporting a different style of cravat than when you had arrived. What I would like to know is if anyone else is aware of . . . our encounter.”

  Seamus raised his left brow at her decidedly accusing tone. “Ask me politely and perhaps I’ll tell you.”

  “Perhaps?” Juliet cast him a withering glare. “I am attempting to rebuild my reputation!”

  “Then, my dear Juliet, I suggest you refrain from kissing men in your bedchamber.” His golden eyes met hers, void of remorse.

  “You kissed me!” She was furious.

  “And you liked it well enough to remove my cravat.”

  As Seamus continued to stare at her, she remembered just how much.

  “As you’ve said”—she blinked—“I was ‘indisposed.’”

  “After yesterday’s lapse . . .” He smiled. “I’m beginning to wonder if you had taken a single sip.”

  “Well, I had. Loads, in fact,” she lied.

  He sipped his brandy. “And yesterday?”

  “The excitement of discovery.” She shrugged the kiss off. “Like you kissing me for my books. My God, it’s boiling in here,” she said, desperate to change the subject and he let her.

  “I’m afraid I was not expecting company.”

  Juliet glanced at his silk dressing gown and his partially exposed chest.

  “Yes, I can see that. So, if you will just tell me if you told anyone of our . . .” Juliet looked away from his perceptive gaze. “Lapse, then I shall be on my way and you can get back to . . .” Lounging in your study nude. “Reading.”

  Seamus grinned, both of them knowing this was as close as she had ever come to a man in his altogether. For all she knew, he had a widow waiting in the next room, eager to take Seamus to bed.

  “You’re just angry that Felicity found out about your . . .lapse.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” she protested, knowing that this man was anything but. “Have you told anyone that you took advantage of me?”

  Seamus burst into laughter and then walked to his chair, sitting as she followed. “I took about as much advantage of you in your home as I did yesterday.”

  She gasped and would have defended herself, but all thoughts vanished when Seamus’s silk robe slid a good four inches away from his right thigh as he set his feet atop the black ottoman.

  Juliet stared, never having seen a man’s bare leg, so long and powerful, so utterly beautiful
. . . and hairy. But for some inexplicable reason that was rather nice, too.

  Wait, he was saying something.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, having no clue what they had been discussing. Her mind entirely focused on the thought of running her hands down his muscular thigh, wondering what the dark hair would feel like against her skin, her body.

  “We both know that you wanted to kiss me yesterday.” He finished his brandy and she watched the cords of masculine muscle surrounding his neck as he swallowed.

  “Do stop messing about, Seamus,” she said, less forcefully then she had hoped. “Did you tell anyone about our . . .” she conceded as he rose. “Indiscretion?”

  “You mean, about our indiscretions?” he said, looking down at her with that amused grin that turned her brain to mush.

  “Stop it, Seamus.”

  “Stop what?” He shrugged, drawing her attention to his beautiful broad shoulders.

  Juliet closed her eyes and the heat in the room became oppressive as she felt him standing mere inches in front of her, around her.

  Seamus repeated his stipulation.

  “Ask me nicely.” His voice fell over her like a silken sheet.

  She was becoming light-headed, and in the interest of self-preservation, Juliet acquiesced to his demand.

  “Very well. Please,” she breathed, “tell me if anyone else . . .” She tilted her head back and looked him in the eye. “Knows that I . . .”

  “Kissed me,” he whispered, his head bent, his breath on her lips.

  “Yes,” she hoped she said before standing on her tiptoes and kissing him again.

  Juliet placed her hand on his bare chest as he pulled her flush against his powerful body.

  With half of her mind on the moist heat of his mouth, she allowed the other half to explore his exceptional body. Her hands slid around his ribs and then descended down the silk covering his muscular back. The subtle curve of his taut backside was irresistible, and Juliet could not help giving him a squeeze as she pulled him closer.

  He moaned and it was then that Juliet felt his hardening length against her belly. Her nipples tightened to sensitive peaks and the feel of his heavy chest moving against her breasts was wonderful. She closed her eyes as they continued to kiss and she felt her passion gathering momentum between her thighs.