by Sophia James
‘You are a spy who quotes poetry and a man who can kill without a second thought. Who are you really, Aurelian de la Tomber, for I cannot quite fathom the truth of you.’
He turned to face her, sadness in his eyes.
‘When you picked me up off that road, the snow swirling in the cold, I had almost given up on living. I thought you were an angel then, with your red hair against white skin and a voice that was...kind.’
‘A fallen angel, perhaps.’
‘Promise me something, Violet. Promise that you will discuss anything you are not happy about, anything that worries you.’
‘I don’t like sleeping in here alone.’
‘Will you come with me to my chamber, then?’ He offered her his hand, palm up and she took it.
His bedroom through the small door was enormous, one end filled with books and maps and ancient manuscripts.
‘I had them brought over from Paris,’ he said when he saw her looking. ‘I have not had much time for reading but I mean to make some here.’
‘And the piano?’
‘It was my mother’s.’
There were paintings on the walls that showed landscapes, foreign shores with a sun in the skies a lot warmer than the one here in England. On a desk near the fireplace was a bower of candles. A gun lay at an angle next to that.
‘You expect more trouble? This is why you do not sleep?’
‘I have guards placed from one end of Compton Park to the other. If trouble comes I will know about it well before it reaches our front door.’
‘And you will deal with it?’
‘Easily.’
She laughed. ‘It must be so satisfying to believe in yourself like you do.’
‘Don’t you?’
She couldn’t answer. As a child she had lost her mother, and then her father and stepmother had not wished for her company. Lately, though, after the hard years with Harland, she had been starting to regain something of herself, an independence and bravery, but even that was difficult. ‘It’s hard to be brave when you are so afraid.’
‘And yet you stopped your carriage to pick me up?’
‘Perhaps there is an end-point in fear, then. A place where you turn back into life because there is nowhere else left to go.’
‘Or perhaps you were always a lot more courageous than you thought you were. You are shivering.’
He brought her against him, his warmth seeping through her coldness, the demons and ghosts of the past shifting from the light into the shadows. ‘Come, let us get warm again.’
Always with him there was a sort of magic in touch, a connection that startled her. She felt it now in the promise of what might come next.
The bed was an old one with embroidered hangings on each side sporting images of deer and lions and horses entwined in bowers of ivy. He had removed his boots and his breeches followed.
His skin was so much darker than her own, the contrast making her smile, though when his hand came to cup her breast she was consumed by another feeling altogether.
Breathlessness. And anticipation. Her body rose up to meet his.
* * *
She was so damn responsive, nipples hardened and her arms around his neck bringing him in. There were freckles on her chest and her arms, a smattering of darkness on skin so pale he could see the blue blood lines upon it.
Differences.
The want in him built and breached like waves inside, a need that was so foreign it made him disorientated, the cool controlled world he’d always lived in shattered into pieces and falling to his feet like snowflakes.
Drifting.
If he lost her...
His finger came up to the mark under her eye, the dark bruise lighter now.
‘Je te veux plus que je ne veux la vie elle-même.’
The words were said before he knew it and he wondered if she had any fluency in his language. He seldom spoke during lovemaking and rarely used French while in England, but Violet took away logic and replaced it with a desire that came from within and unbidden.
God, he was becoming a man he hardly recognised and she most certainly had never given him any troth of permanence. She’d refused his offer of marriage, after all, and insisted only on lust.
His mouth came down more roughly than he meant given his recent thoughts and he made himself slow down. She had been honest with him and that was all that he could ask. Now he needed to be honest, too.
He felt her breath hitch as he stroked her and understood that in lust there also lay pathways to something more. Her fingers dug into his back and he revelled in the pain of them for a slack response would allow him nothing.
Bringing her under him he came in with intent, no question in what he wanted, what they both wanted, the intimacy cleaving them as one. The past and the future disappeared as their blood beat in unison, cancelling out all that they lost when alone.
Faith, he thought, and tried to find the edge of something else, as well. Truth was there, as was relief. Relief that he should have had the luck to be found by a woman who completed him.
He broke away after their release, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling laced in shadow. He could no longer pretend that she was only a companion in the pleasures of the flesh. It seemed wrong and belittling in the face of all that was unsaid.
‘I want you more than I want life itself.’ Her voice came through the silence, a word for word translation of what he had said before.
‘You speak French?’
‘Fluently.’
He began to laugh because here was a joy he had never felt in a woman’s bed before. Gratitude and contentment and surprise.
‘When did you learn?’
‘At boarding school. My father found an institute for me that was well regarded and singularly academic. I can hold a conversation in Spanish and German, as well.’
‘That does not surprise me.’
This time the laughter was her own.
‘Why not?’
‘Because you are unlike any other female I have ever known and I mean that as a compliment. Your intellect is a part of that.’
‘Harland hated it that a woman could think.’
‘Because he could not himself?’
She was still, her eyes misty and sad. ‘I wish you had seen me then, before...’ She stopped. ‘Before I lost my way in life.’
‘Have you found it again?’
Sitting up, she kissed his mouth in a fashion that made his blood run hot.
‘I have.’
‘Good. Then fight for your truths, Violet, and don’t let anyone tell you different.’
He kissed the tip of her nose and stood. ‘Get back into bed and I will go down to find us something to eat.’
* * *
She could not remember feeling so happy in all her years. Perhaps at school she’d had some moments of things seeming easy and interesting, as if there was a whole world out there just waiting for discovery.
But now Amaryllis and the children were safe, she was in a home well-guarded and secure, and Aurelian was beside her.
She wanted time to stop right now, to freeze into this second.
She wanted him to think that she was honourable and wise and clever and all the other things she had tried her hardest to become.
I want you more than I want life itself.
How had he meant that?
Want in the sense of carnal desire or want in the way of a yearning and permanent need?
Celeste Shayborne had said something in the same vein when she had spoken to her quietly after her husband and Aurelian had needed to find something in the library.
‘The Comte is a man who has had many others depending on him in his life. He has always been a chameleon and a warrior as well as a dweller, too, in the darker places of the world, but he
needs to settle down now, to be at peace with all that he has been and done. I think you of all people will understand that for you remind me of myself.’
Violet could not in all the world imagine any similarities. Celeste Shayborne had worked in intelligence in Paris but here in England she looked to be the perfect lady. The dingy secrets of her past with Harland were nothing to be proud of but there was a second as Celeste had spoken that Violet had felt a vivid and startling connection. It was as if her shadows were known and understood.
She shook her head. Such fancy and whims were like castles in Spain.
Aurelian was back with a platter of food even as she thought this, wine was there, too, a red she did not recognise and to one side lay a small bowl of marzipan sweets.
‘From the Yuletide,’ he explained when he saw her looking.
To have a man bring her food in bed was a glorious treat and she sat up fully as he laid down a napkin under the large pottery plate.
‘I brought my chef from Paris when I came the first time and he liked the countryside here so much that he stayed.’
‘The servants are French, too, then?’
‘Only some of them.’
‘Celeste is a very proper lady.’
The laugh took her aback.
‘When she knows you better she may tell you the whole of her story. Everybody has a past, Violet, as much as they might not want to admit it.’
This was so close to what she had just been thinking that she blushed.
‘Yours is attached to the legitimacy that intelligence affords. A slate that can be wiped clean again and again by the interests of state and crown.’
‘There are always shades in such an occupation and the dark hues are more prevalent than you might think.’
‘Was it the case for you?’
‘I have killed men, Violet. Many men. Some in the name of Emperor and country but most because of the less respectable pragmatism of war. If you were to question my morality with those I worked with in Paris, there would be a variety of answers. Some flattering and others not. It would depend on how closely they knew me.’
‘Shayborne, then. What is it he would say?’
‘That he would not want me as an enemy. That ruthlessness often rules me and that the brutal and hard-hearted business of espionage has burnt into my bones as callousness. It still burns,’ he added, ‘make no mistake of that.’
‘Why do you say this?’
‘Because there is never just one answer as to a person’s motives. Once I was a man who believed that trying to do good was enough, but it wasn’t.’
‘What changed you?’
‘I told you of Veronique.’ He waited till she nodded. ‘But mostly I think it was the death of my mother. She was killed by a faction that believed the de Beaumont aristocrats were greedy sycophants who deserved a lesson. After she died I delivered them a stronger message back and it went on from there. A moment of change. A decision that led to others. All of life is like that perhaps, an action, a reaction and then a consequence. The consequence of standing up for what you believe in.’
‘And if you don’t? If you didn’t?’
‘Then find the point in your past that you did. It is surprising on reflection how many times the downfall is unchangeable and then all you can do is live with it, the shame and the loss, and hope that you have done enough for it to never happen again.’
‘Is it something you might tell others...this thing that changes you? Is that a necessary thing, do you think, to recover?’
‘No.’ He said the word almost without thought, strong and certain. ‘It is enough for you to know it and acknowledge the debt.’
Tears came into her eyes at the gift of his words and his finger softly wiped them away as they fell.
‘Tomorrow is a new day to vanquish ghosts. Count on that.’
She saw his smile and the dash of humour in his eyes and was grateful. He knew enough of shadows to dispel them before they overcame you and made you weep for all that was gone. She had never met a man before who had understood that.
The Christmas marzipan ball he popped into her mouth was delicious.
* * *
The letter came the next day ordering Aurelian to present himself in London. He was to bring Lady Addington with him.
The signature was that of Douglas Cummings and Lian knew enough of legal summons to also know it could not be ignored. But he had other plans entirely and the rider who had brought the missive had not placed it in his hands personally.
He did not want to take Violet to London where she would be in more danger. Cummings and Antoinette Herbert were his prime suspects but he was certain there were others, as well, and he needed to find out who else was there alongside them.
When he told Violet of his plans, her reaction was not at all the one he imagined.
‘I want to go with you, Aurelian. I won’t stay here by myself so if you do not agree to take me I will come anyway.’
‘You’ve been hurt once by these people and Compton Park is a safe haven. If you would prefer, you could stay with Shay and Celeste at Luxford.’
‘I spent six years being told what to do by Harland and before that I was the property of my father but I am free now and the bravery that you spoke of last night is a precious gift I never want to lose hold of again. If you take me with you I won’t be sitting here and worrying and I promise to do everything you ask.’
‘It may not be easy, Violet. I don’t intend to just walk into their lair and give myself up.’
‘I didn’t think you would.’
‘Mountford may not be the man we imagine him, either.’
‘But if I can talk to him and tell him all that has happened to me he might think twice.’
‘What was his relationship with your mother?’
‘He loved her and when she asked him to be my godfather he was happy for the duty. I saw many of Harland’s associates personally over the time he was tampering with the gold so I might be able to identify them, as well.’
‘You didn’t know any of the ones who kidnapped you.’
‘Please, Aurelian. Please let me come.’
He looked at her and saw in her eyes the hope that might save her. Save them. If only he could keep her alive.
When she smiled he knew he was in trouble and when she crossed the room and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him hard on the mouth he knew he was in even more.
They left Sussex in the very early morning of the next day and with as little fanfare as they could manage. The first carriage had gone on ahead last evening with Eli Tucker and two of the guards.
It was a strategic decision. If anyone was watching Compton Park then they could split the opposition before they reached London. Lian had asked Shay if they could use the Luxford town house even as the others went on to Portman Square.
Keep them guessing was a mantra he had employed from the first but he knew he had to flush out all those who were responsible for Violet’s kidnapping and he did not mean to do it kindly.
They would pay for their mistakes. A part of him hoped Mountford was not involved as he owed a debt to the man after his warning about Violet’s being in danger in the park.
He had organised to have a groom sit with the driver as well as the safety of another guard at the back. There were two shotguns and a pistol within reach inside the carriage. It never paid to be underprepared.
Violet looked tense and worried as they finally met the main road which at this time of the day was a busy one and for that Aurelian was grateful. Anyone meaning to waylay them would probably think twice with all the onlookers, though their daring at Lackington’s had rattled him.
Shay was travelling up to give his thoughts to the commission and for that extra weapon in his armoury Aurelian was glad. Celeste had come to see him, too, quietly impressing upon him the im
portance of protecting Violet.
‘She is scared, Aurelian, and lonely but she is also brave. If you know what is good for you, you will not let her slip through your fingers and any woman should have the benefit of doubt in refusing a marriage proposal once.’
‘You are an unlikely champion for Violet, Celeste.’
‘I think she has as many demons as I had before I married Summer but she needs to understand that a good man can heal a chequered past. Did she kill the husband?’
‘No, but she is protecting the one who did.’
‘For a good reason?’
He swallowed and answered curtly, ‘A very good one.’
‘Harland Addington had few friends from what I have heard of him and more than enough enemies.’
‘And...’
‘She was in exile up on the Addington estate for years it seems and when she arrived in London last year there were many who were more than keen to court her. She made it very plain that she was not interested in finding a husband again.’
‘Once bitten, twice shy?’
‘The stir she created was most abhorrent to her. She did not encourage a single suitor until you.’
He laughed. ‘What is it you are saying, Celeste?’
‘Ask her to marry you again, Aurelian, but this time mention the word love.’
‘How do you know I didn’t last time?’
‘Because if you had I think she would have accepted you.’
Chapter Eleven
Charles Mountford arrived at the Luxford town house the evening they did and he looked flustered and worried. Aurelian had sent him a note asking for a meeting.
‘Thank you for coming so promptly. I appreciate it.’
‘You left a mess at the tavern on the northern road, de Beaumont. Six men dead and another who could identify you when asked. Cummings is livid and wants your head.’
‘My head and Violet’s, it seems. But what he does not realise is we have evidence that he is a part of the plot to hide the lost French gold. He was an accomplice of Viscount Addington and I think a woman called Antoinette Herbert is still blackmailing him into doing her dirty work. I am almost certain others are involved, as well.’