by Imogene Nix
Finally, the evening drew to a close and they headed back to the house she and her sister were renting.
Jacinthe had waited up and opened the door. Isabelle, clearly exhausted, bade them goodnight then left them alone in the parlor.
“Major...”
“Aeddan. Say it. Aeddan.” His words were like a drug, and she gave in.
“Aeddan...” Her stomach knotted. “I... Would you like a drink of something?” A sense of desperation filled her. Here is a man who could teach me of pleasure, but would he? Or will he fall back on his scruples and deny me the experience? Perhaps she radiated some hint of her thoughts, because he frowned.
“No. Not tonight. Tomorrow is the Rollington’s Ball. You will attend?”
He gazed at her, eyes lazy yet holding an awareness that sent shivers down her spine. She was fascinated at the play of emotions in his eyes.
“We intend to be there.”
He smiled, and her breath caught once more.
“Excellent. Now I will bid you goodnight, Elspeth.” He stepped forward, slid his arms around her waist, and tugged.
She fell against him as his lips touched hers. The kiss redolent with sizzling intensity. The wild conflagration grew between them, burning hot. He devoured with lips and tongue. Drawing her deeper into the web he wove... Sensual. Erotic. His arms held her close so that every inch of their bodies touched. Even through the layers of fabric a zing arced between them.
Hunger filled her, warming the pit of her belly, and she tingled. All over. Hints of forbidden pleasure warmed and swelled.
When Aeddan pulled away, she panted and heat scorched her skin. “Aeddan...” She couldn’t help the question that rose.
“Not tonight. Soon.” Then, with a bow, he turned and left her standing there, watching his unhurried retreat.
Chapter 7
Grundy popped his head around the door. “Major? There’s a boy, come with a message from his lordship.”
Aeddan had been looking at the same reports for an hour, calculating the information contained within them. Gathering the intelligence that would let him prove that there was a mole within the government ranks.
“Who is it?”
“Don’t know ’im, Major. Reckon he’s new.” Grundy obviously wasn’t sure though; it was clear in the doubtful tone of his voice.
“Right. I’ll come out then.” He rose, pushing back from the table and stretching. He hadn’t yet found anything untoward in the notes he’d been reading. Perhaps this was what he needed?
A young boy, probably around ten, waited in the cool foyer, his white kurtah impeccably clean. “Sahib? I bring a note from Lord Lytton. He says to hand it to you alone.” He spoke with the rapid-fire lilt Aeddan had grown used to in India.
He took the note, broke the seal, and scanned it.
It would seem that Miss Forster has taken the eye of the mole. They have arranged for an escort, including Major Albemarle and Colonel Fortescue and their men, to accompany her. You will need to move quickly to offset this. RBL
“Albermarle and Fortescue.” He muttered to himself, but Grundy’s eyes narrowed at his words.
“What? Major?”
“We must go out. Prepare a carriage immediately.” He turned back to the boy. “Come with me.”
Quick strides saw him in his office, and he opened the drawer of his desk, reached for a piece of parchment and his pen. Sure strokes marked the paper as he scratched out his response.
I will attend Miss Forster immediately and ensure that she does not accept their offer of escort. Will report later. AF
“Give this to his lordship. No one else,” he instructed.
He didn’t know why Albemarle and Fortescue might be focusing on Miss Forster, but the primal urge to protect her had risen. The emotion was unfamiliar, yet not unsettling.
He had no time to ponder it as the boy hurried out the door, berry brown fingers curled around the shilling Aeddan had given him. As soon as the boy was gone he strode out of his office, taking the steps to the sleeping areas two at a time.
Once within his room he headed for the wardrobe and snatched up his coat, uncaring of the items that were knocked from the stand. He shrugged into it and headed back downstairs and out the door.
Grundy was just pulling the carriage around as he exited the house. “Good thing you were planning on going out soon, Major. Siraj was already preparing the carriage and horses.”
“Good. You’re with me, Grundy.”
His man looked a little surprised, but nodded and took up the reins. “Very good, Major.”
Aeddan climbed in. “We need to see Miss Forster.”
Grundy cast him a surprised glance but wisely kept his own counsel as they made their way down the drive. The traffic on the roads was bustling. Carts and cattle swarmed while people wandered backward and forward in front of the carriages.
Slowly, they moved forward, heading in the direction of the north end of the town. His fingers tapped out a wild tattoo until in the distance he spied the façade of Miss Forster and her sister’s house. In front stood two carriages. One belonged to Lady Manton. The other he knew well too, and he swore. Fortescue was already here.
The conveyance came to a halt, and Aeddan sprang to the ground. “Wait for me.”
He could feel the weight of Grundy’s gaze as he made his way to the front door. It opened at his knock. Young Jacinthe smiled at him as she allowed him entrance before closing the door on the heated afternoon sun.
“Come this way, Major.”
He followed her to the small sitting room, where Lady Manton, in her most elegant day gown, sat on the chaise lounge with Miss Isabelle. Miss Forster—Elspeth—captured his attention, looking ravishing in a pale green dress that picked up the tones of her eyes.
“Major Fitzsimmons, Miss Forster.”
He bowed low at Jacinthe’s words and entered the room, taking in the tableau in an encompassing glance. Fortescue and Albemarle stood off to the side, as Elspeth was serving tea.
“Why, Major! It’s so good to see you today.” Elspeth’s eyes flashed as she smiled her welcome to him alone. She lowered the china pot to the tiny table before her. “Jacinthe? I’ll have a cup for the major, please.”
The young girl hurried out of the room and Aeddan bowed to her ladyship, who smiled and inclined her head regally in his direction.
“Major, it is good to see you again.” Isabelle glowed quietly before Lady Manton engaged her in conversation once more.
He narrowed his gaze on Albemarle and Fortescue who accepted their tea and moved back against the wall, talking quietly among themselves.
“Miss Forster, I have come to enquire if you would be willing to allow me to escort you to the silk markets later this week?”
She smiled at him. “I would very much enjoy that.”
He noted from the corner of his eye as Fortescue frowned. He’d need to push carefully now, so it didn’t tip his hand.
“Of course, I’m also aware that you wished to visit the areas of silk production. I had thought perhaps Baharampur? It would take some time, but...” He waited a beat as the two men straightened.
“Excuse me, Major. That’s not the done thing! How will you arrange for a chaperone for Miss Forster when you’re a single man?” Fortescue’s spirited defense made him want to smile.
“Oh, that’s already taken care of. Well, Miss Forster? Will you join me?”
She looked at him, no doubt questioning his sanity after his arguments with her aboard the Zephyr.
“Indeed, sir. I would certainly appreciate your escort.” She looked as if she had more to say, but Lady Manton indicated her wish to leave by rising. Elspeth and Isabelle and himself followed suit as was expected in polite company.
“Now I must leave you, my dear. Think on what I have spoken to you about today. Miss Isabelle, I am pleased you are recovered. Fortescue and Albemarle, I believe you have a parade soon? You may escort me out.” As Lady Manton passed by Aeddan, she pl
aced her hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Take great care of her. The sharks have already begun circling.”
Then the woman bustled from the room, followed by the two men Aeddan knew were unhappy at the turn of events they couldn’t control.
Elspeth took her seat again as the door shut with a near silent click. “Well then. What day would be suitable to you?” She turned toward him, and the smile on her face stole his breath. Her eyes twinkled, and the pink of her cheeks was more than just becoming.
Jacinthe cracked open the doors. “Excuse me, Miss Forster, but could Miss Isabelle join me? The seamstress is here.”
Aeddan made to rise, but Isabelle stood and granted him a sweet grin.
“No, you stay, Major. I have some gowns that required extra fittings.” With a nod she was through the door.
“I’m going to be busy for the next few days, however, I have no further commitments after Thursday next. Does that suit you?” he asked Elspeth. “As to the other visit to Baharumpur, I will arrange for a chaperone for you. Also the guards that will be necessary for our safety.”
“Yes, that suits me well. I need to make arrangements for things while I’m gone. Then there is the packing of clothing and making arrangements for Isabelle. You will let me know when you’re ready?”
Elspeth was unlike any other woman of his experience. No one could call her a ditherer.
“Indeed I shall. Excellent.” He stood. He should leave, but he suddenly hungered to stay longer.
Elspeth watched him, worrying her full lower lip with her teeth. “Aeddan, I...” She blushed a deep red.
He frowned, wondering what concerned her now. She rose, her hands now fluttering like tiny butterflies, and she straightened the skirt of her gown.
“What’s wrong, Elspeth?”
She glanced in his direction, and he saw the hunger in her eyes. The innocent fire he recognized in her gaze teased his senses. Without conscious thought, he closed the distance between them. Aeddan was almost there when his mind questioned his action, and he stopped.
Now he watched her. Waited, his heart thudding in his chest wildly. What would she do?
She smiled shyly and took the last step, right up to him. He opened his arms, and she slid her fingers around his waist.
He bent his head, inhaling the subtle scent of roses, watching her eyes darken, until his lips met hers. Mouths ground against each other as the hunger exploded deep in his belly. He grasped her waist, tugging her more firmly against him, and he felt hesitant, shy fingers curl into his hair.
She tasted sweet. Hot and intoxicating. He gloried in the sensations, the scents, and the taste. She mewled in her throat, and he wanted to roar his triumph. She was his, surely?
Behind him came a sound, tugging him from the cloud of arousal he’d given into. “Uh, excuse me...”
Jacinthe. Damn! Would there never be time or privacy with this woman?
Elspeth pulled away from his embrace, panic and embarrassment leaving pink streaks over her cheeks, her eyes wide, and the look was like a punch in the gut. She turned away, her skirts swirling, as her hands moved over her hair.
“Jacinthe?”
“Uh, Miss Isabelle asked me to let you know the seamstress is ready for you.”
Elspeth turned back. Her eyes still glittered with the final vestiges of excitement, but the pink was fading.
Time to leave. For now anyway.
He straightened. “I will bid you good day then, Miss Forster.”
He bowed deeply, watching her, telling her with his eyes that they would continue this exploration of the senses. He knew the second she understood. It was clear in the way her eyes widened. Then her face settled into a serene smile.
“Good day, Major.”
With that, he turned and left the room.
Chapter 8
Elspeth’s stomach quivered. She had tried and discarded four gowns before finally settling on the bronzed silk. It was almost severe in cut, the only adornment a decorative sweep of tiny pearls sewed to the bodice.
Tonight she felt different, as if there was some momentous event about to take place. She gripped her fan of ivory and silk and tugged the wrap more firmly around her. Aeddan’s note had instructed that they wait for him.
The scent of jasmine filled the air, and she wandered to the window, chancing a look outdoors.
“He’ll be here soon enough, my love. Will you not sit down beside me? I feel positively slothful watching you pace back and forth.” Isabelle’s voice rang like a bell, and Elspeth turned to look at her.
“I...” How could she explain to Isabelle that she was about to take a leap into the unknown? To follow through on the daring plan they’d hatched months ago in the drawing room? “Aeddan... He’s...”
Isabelle’s eyes widened. “Has he... Has he asked you?” Her voice was little more than a squeak, and Elspeth cringed.
“Not in so many words.” She turned back as the sound of hooves and wheels on cobbles filled the air. “He’s here.” Elspeth remained looking out, ending any further discussion with her sister on the subject.
Aeddan entered the room. His dark attire accentuated the breadth of his shoulders. He bowed to both of them. “Ladies. You both look quite ravishing.”
Elspeth accepted his proffered arm.
“If you’re ready then?”
Isabelle rose and looked at her with an I-want-to-know-more-later look and preceded them to the hallway.
Elspeth made to move, but for an instant, Aeddan held her back. His gaze was smoldering. “Your sister is ravishing, but you are breathtaking, Elspeth.”
The words left her a shivering mass of nerves.
Aeddan led her to the door and assisted her into the carriage, his hand resting just longer than propriety allowed on the curve of her waist. Elspeth didn’t know if Isabelle had noticed that or not.
The ride was quick, and as they arrived strains of music echoed. If not for the humidity, she was sure she could have been back in England.
On Aeddan’s arm she entered the ballroom. Men in a mixture of uniforms and black suits paraded and danced with women dressed in an array of finery. The crystal chandeliers sparkled as laughter, chatter, and music filled the air.
Aeddan dipped his head to hers. “Grant me your first dance,” he said, then introduced her to his friends.
Isabelle had already found a group of young women who engaged her in conversation, and she waved them on with a searching look at Elspeth.
A waltz struck up, and Aeddan excused them from their current set of acquaintances with a, “My dance, I believe.”
“Major, should we be dancing this? I’m not sure...”
His arms already encircled her, pulling her into the seething mass of bodies. As they came together on the dancefloor a shiver betrayed her inner turmoil.
“There is nothing fast in waltzing. It is now widely accepted, even in London.”
Elspeth gave a small nod to show her understanding while her body trembled with the desire she’d been fighting since their first meeting. She was so close to him she could feel the warmth and strength of his body. He guided her smoothly across the polished floor with skill and agility. He didn’t speak, but the touch of his fingers caressed her bared skin at her wrist, above the silk of her glove that had slid down.
As the music drew to a close she chanced to look at him. His eyes were slumberous.
“Come with me,” he requested quietly.
There was an unspoken invitation to passion that she now understood. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Elspeth took a shallow, unsteady breath and nodded. She would go with him. Accept the licking flames of passion she spied burning in his careful gaze. But even as she took his arm she was aware that her sister was watching.
They walked slowly out of the room, onto the terrace, heavily scented with jasmine and honeysuckle, the sounds of the ball behind them. She was sure they’d stop there, but he urged her further to the end of the veranda and
to a dimly lit hallway.
“Where are we going?” She could barely speak, and swallowed.
“The library,” he said. “I acquired the key earlier today from the colonel.”
She looked away. He’d planned it all. Was it the right thing to do? She was both exhilarated and frightened at the step she was taking. She followed him through the open veranda door, deep carpeting muffling the sound of their footsteps.
Together they walked down the corridor, past closed doors. He stopped her. “If we take this step, there can be no turning back, Elspeth. I want you. You want me. Yes?”
Her stomach quivered. Last chance, Elspeth, she told herself. “I do.”
“Then will you let me show you a world of pleasure?” Even in the half-light, she detected need on his face. The way it tightened and turned into a visage of granite. “I won’t make you any promises that I can’t—”
She raised her hand, resting her fingertips against his lips. “I don’t want any.”
“Then come with me.” Aeddan took her by the hand, leading her into the darkened room.
“But what if someone—”
He stilled her words with a small shake of his head as he moved one arm up, so his finger slid over the flesh of her lips. She quivered with anticipation. “No one will know we are here.”
He pulled his finger away, sliding it gently against her skin and down her chin. The flesh twitched below his teasing caress.
“Aeddan...”
He cupped her chin, raising it to his face. “This is for us.”
He moved slowly, his gaze devouring while flickers of heat lapped at her skin, her breathing shallow. A thud and footsteps joined giggles in the hallway beyond, and her eyes flickered to the side, as if expecting someone to enter and find them.
“Shh... The door is locked.” The whisper of his breath swept across her, sweet with the wine he had drunk earlier, and deep in the pit of her belly, the heat she’d tried to ignore swelled.