Tempting the Scoundrel (The Seven Curses of London Book 5)

by Lana Williams

  She knew she looked her best, but she felt brittle, as though she might shatter at any moment. It had taken incredible effort to smile and act normal with the countess as they moved through the evening, and it was long from over. Enjoying the events was impossible for Sophia, but she didn’t want to ruin it for the countess. Her only hope was to focus on the moment and not think of tomorrow or the day after.

  “Very striking.” She studied the round domed building made of red brick with torches lighting the entrance.

  “Isn’t it, though? I have heard there is a terrible echo inside,” the countess whispered, as they made their way up the steps toward the entrance amidst the large crowd. “Can you imagine how disappointed the Queen must have been when she heard that?”

  “How unfortunate, especially for a concert hall.”

  “They have placed a decorative canvas awning in the roof in an attempt to improve the acoustics.” The countess pointed to the ceiling where the canvas was clearly visible.

  “Does it solve the problem?”

  “I understand it helps. The lighting is impressive. A special system was installed in the hall that lights over a thousand gas jets in less than ten seconds.”

  Sophia murmured appreciatively as the countess shared other details.

  Three levels of seating inside the rounded interior allowed everyone attending to both hear the concert and have an excellent view.

  They slowly made their way toward their seats. Luckily, the countess had her cane to assist her. This much standing and walking would no doubt tire her.

  Dalia and her sister, Letitia, her husband and two other couples were already seated. They exchanged greetings as they took their seats.

  Sophia had never attended an event like this. She enjoyed music, and, despite the sadness that weighted her heart, anticipation filled her as the musicians took their place on stage in the center of the hall.

  “Oh, dear.” The countess glanced around her seat and the floor. “I seem to have dropped my fan. I had it when we entered the hall.”

  “I will look for it,” Sophia said, rising.

  “I’ll accompany you,” Viscount Frost, one of Lettie’s friends offered. “I need a breath of fresh air.”

  His wife, Lady Julia, smiled. “Don’t be overlong, else you’ll miss the opening performance.”

  Dalia had mentioned to Sophia that the viscount didn’t care for crowds. No doubt he welcomed the excuse to escape for a few moments.

  “Thank you,” Sophia said as they walked up the aisle, already searching for the missing fan.

  “My pleasure,” the handsome viscount offered. His gaze swept the floor as well.

  The crowd had thinned considerably with most people having taken their seats. They neared the entrance before Sophia spotted the familiar fan. She bent to retrieve it when someone caught her eye.

  Rising slowly, she studied the man who lingered near the entrance. He shifted as though unsettled or anxious, tugging at his cravat as if it choked him.

  “Do you know him?” the viscount asked as he stepped nearer.

  “No.”

  “He doesn’t act as though he’s here to enjoy the music.”

  Before Sophia could reply, the man stiffened, eyes wide as his attention caught on something. She followed his gaze, her heart pounding at the sight of Elliott and Viscount Rutland rushing into the hall. The pair headed directly toward an interior door, their urgency noticeable even from this distance.

  “Isn’t that Aberland?” Frost asked. “Where are he and Rutland going?”

  “I’m not certain, but that man is following them, and he appears very unhappy at their arrival.” Another man followed as well. Without a second thought, Sophia hurried after them, certain the danger Elliott had mentioned was directly behind him.

  ~*~

  Nothing Elliott did slowed the heavy pounding of his heart. All he could think about was his grandmother and Sophia somewhere inside the concert hall. His worry made it difficult to think, to focus.

  The last thing they needed was a panicked crowd. Requesting well over a thousand people to leave the hall in an orderly and expedient manner would take time they didn’t have. The other men Gladstone had sent for would have to help with the evacuation.

  Luckily, Rutland had been to the hall before. “There’s an access door here,” he directed, opening it to reveal a set of stairs.

  Several lanterns waited at the top, no doubt left for maintenance purposes. Elliott lit one before they hurried down.

  The music rumbled below the stage as the musicians warmed up, vibrating the stone foundation. Elliott felt that vibration to his toes, the sensation worsening his simmering nerves.

  “This way,” Rutland said. “Stalls K are just there.”

  Within moments, Rutland navigated to that section of the foundation. Massive columns supported the structure. Rutland stopped abruptly before the red granite stone the Queen had laid with a golden trowel nearly four years prior.

  A dusty wooden box sat on the floor beside the column. Elliott nearly passed by, only to stop and stare. Dusty and dented, it looked like something a worker had inadvertently left behind, but it caught Elliott’s notice.

  He knelt beside it, noting recent fingerprints smudged the dust. A quick examination revealed the dust was actually talcum powder. “This could be what we’re looking for.”

  The box was approximately two feet by two feet and about a foot tall. Big enough to contain explosives. He tried to lift the lid but to no avail.

  “Locked?” Rutland knelt beside Elliott.

  “I believe so, but I don’t see a latch.”

  “This side is hinged. The opening must be on the other side,” Rutland said.

  Elliott lowered to the ground so he was at eye level with the lid. He pulled a knife from his boot and slid it carefully along the crack. A little wiggling of the blade provided a satisfying click.

  He held Rutland’s gaze for a long moment then returned his attention to the lid. “Are you ready?”

  Rutland licked his lips. “As ready as I will ever be. Is field work always this nerve-wracking?”

  “Rarely.” Elliott returned his knife to its sheath then used both hands to slowly raise the lid. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he held when nothing happened.

  A tattered piece of canvas hid the contents. Moving slowly, Elliott lifted the cloth. He had only seen explosives one other time, in Paris. This one was similar. The sticks of dynamite were wired to a small clock. The relentless ticking was audible even over the music being played above them.

  “I’m guessing that when the alarm rings, the fuse will light, causing the dynamite to explode,” Elliott said.

  “They must expect these casks of liquid paraffin to explode as well.”

  Elliott glanced over his shoulder to where Rutland stood next to several wooden casks of the fuel. “Then we had better make certain we diffuse this. More barrels may be placed throughout the building.”

  “Halt.”

  The deep voice with its distinct accent caught Elliott’s attention. A man stepped out of the shadows into the lantern light. The pistol he held caused Elliott’s mouth to go dry. “Popov. Surprised to see we’ve discovered your ridiculous plan?”

  “Not so ridiculous when there is nothing but rubble standing in place of this despicable hall.”

  Another man joined Popov, bigger and broader, with a nasty grin on his face.

  Elliott glanced at Rutland, hoping the man knew how to fight. From the surprise on the viscount’s face, he hadn’t expected this.

  Movement in the shadows behind the Russians drew Elliott’s gaze. The face he briefly glimpsed before the darkness hid her set his heart racing.

  Sophia.

  No. Not after the sacrifice he’d made. The idea of her and his grandmother nearby had been difficult enough. But to see her in the middle of this terrible situation was unbearable.

  If anything happened to her...

  He swallowed ba
ck the thought. He refused to allow that, especially not when he’d ended things between them so badly, hurt her so terribly.

  More than anything in this world, he realized how much he wanted the chance to tell her he loved her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sophia watched from the shadows with her heart in her throat as the anxious man, his cohort beside him, pointed a pistol at Elliott.

  She didn’t pretend to understand what was happening, what these men wanted, or what Elliott and Rutland were doing down here. She only knew the gun could end Elliott’s life.

  Elliott slowly stood when she wanted to scream at him to take cover. She knew he’d seen her and was no doubt angry with her for following him once again. In this moment, she didn’t care, nor did she care that he didn’t have any feelings for her. She only wanted him out of danger.

  But how?

  Frost bent close from where he stood behind her, his whisper barely audible. “I’ll take the one with the pistol. You distract the other.”

  Distract? Her mind went blank at the request. Perhaps that was for the best. If she thought this through, she’d be paralyzed by fear.

  That would never do. Not with Elliott’s life at risk.

  She stepped forward and looped her arm around the second man’s arm, taking him by surprise. “Lovely hall, isn’t it?”

  The large man stared at her in surprise then struggled to free his arm, but she held tight and stomped on his foot.

  Her efforts were small but provided the distraction Frost requested. Frost hit Popov’s hand before he could react to her presence, knocking the pistol to the ground, then struck Popov in the stomach. Elliott rushed forward to drive his fist into the larger man’s jaw, and Sophia shifted out of the way.

  Rutland scrambled forward to retrieve the gun, while Elliott pinned the other man to the floor.

  Sophia’s breath stopped as she saw the contents of the box beside the column. “What on earth?”

  “You’ll never determine how to stop it,” Popov declared as he struggled to extract himself from Frost’s tight grip.

  “What’s going on down here?”

  Sophia spun to see Captain Hawke, Lettie’s husband, enter the circle of light.

  “When you took so long to return, I came to see if something was amiss. Apparently, I was right.” Hawke raised a brow at Elliott.

  “You could say that. Can you three take charge of these men so I can try to diffuse the explosive?” He rose as he spoke, leaving the large man in Hawke’s capable hands. He squeezed Sophia’s hand as he passed by before kneeling before the box.

  Sophia stared in shock at this new side of Elliott. Would she ever know him in full? She didn’t understand what was happening, or how he had the knowledge or skills to deal with any part of the situation.

  “You cannot stop this.” Popov chuckled, an unpleasant sound that sent shivers down Sophia’s back.

  “If I remember correctly from the explosive you left in Paris, the trick is to disengage the fuse.”

  Popov sobered as Elliott pulled out his knife once again. The intensity of his expression as he worked had Sophia watching closely, holding her breath. The tension in the room made the music playing above sound harsh and grating.

  At last, Elliott sat back on his heels, returned his knife to its hiding place, and dusted off his hands. “That should do it.”

  Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief, except for the two strangers. At Rutland’s direction, he, Frost, and Hawke escorted the criminals upstairs. One of Elliott’s associates came and retrieved the box, removing it from the building for safety, leaving Elliott and Sophia alone for a moment.

  As the swell of the music above quieted, Sophia braced herself, filled with uncertainty now that she and Elliott were alone. His expression told her nothing.

  “I’m sorry I followed you again when you told me never to do so. But when I saw that terrible man follow you down here, I had no choice.”

  He didn’t reply, only gathered her in his arms and held tight, as though he’d never let her go. She didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Tears filled her eyes as the warmth of his embrace sank in. She hugged him as well, grateful for the moment.

  He eased back, the emotion in the depths of his glittering jade green eyes making her breath catch. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I’m sorry for the terrible things I said to you. They were all lies. I have no mistress. I didn’t mean any of it. Pushing you out of my life was the only way I could think of to keep you safe.”

  Relief filled Sophia at his words. “None of it was true?” As what he said sank in, hope sparked deep inside her.

  “I only said those things to protect you, to force you out of my life. After everything you saw this evening, I realize I can no longer hide the truth from you. I would ask that you hold this in confidence. Keeping my secret is the only way I know to protect those for whom I care.”

  Though a hundred questions came to mind, she held her silence, waiting, holding tight to the idea that he cared for her.

  “My position with British Intelligence has taken enough of my life. I intend to give my resignation to Prime Minister Gladstone before the week’s end.”

  Sophia frowned. “Intelligence.” Her mind reeled with the information. “Does that mean you are not truly a...” She hated to say it.

  “Scoundrel?” He laughed as he drew a finger along the ringlet trailing over her shoulder, causing her to shiver. “Much of my reputation served as a cover for my work.”

  “Much but not all.” Sophia smiled, her heart singing.

  Elliott sobered, his gaze dropping to her lips. “Sophia, this is a terrible time and place but I cannot wait a moment longer.” He took her gloved hands in his and met her gaze. “I love you. I will never let you go, not ever again.”

  The sweet declaration had Sophia blinking back tears once again. “I love you, too, Elliott. More than I can say. More than I ever imagined possible.”

  ~*~

  Elliott waited in the foyer of his home, pacing the small area as impatience burned within him.

  Ten days had passed since the terrible night at the concert hall. Ten long days as Sophia had went to stay with the Fairchilds at Elliott’s insistence so he might court her properly. He’d advised the prime minister he would no longer be working for the Intelligence Office. Gladstone had attempted to change his mind, but Elliott remained firm.

  He had a new focus now, and it didn’t involve playing the rogue or gathering intelligence. While he felt he walked on shaky ground without either of those identities, he was determined to forge a new path with Sophia at his side.

  His grandmother was delighted at the change in circumstances and insisted that had been her plan all along after meeting Sophia. She’d had no doubt that her new “companion” would be the perfect match for Elliott.

  Like any good grandson, he’d thanked her for her meddling from the bottom of his heart.

  Guests would arrive any minute for the party Sophia and his grandmother had spent so much time planning. The countess insisted Sophia dress for the event here, in case any last minute preparations were needed.

  Elliott hoped for a moment alone with Sophia, but if she and her grandmother didn’t come down soon, that moment would be lost.

  As he turned to pace in the opposite direction, movement from above caught his eye.

  His breath whooshed from his lungs at the sight of Sophia descending the stairs. The pale rose silk gown fit her perfectly, emphasizing her slim curves. A trail of pearls swirled along the front, echoed by a pearl pin in her dark curls.

  Her hazel eyes caught his and didn’t let go until she placed her gloved hand in his.

  “Sophia. You are beautiful.”

  She smiled. “I feel like a princess this evening. When your grandmother selected this gown for me, I thought it too ornate, but she was right. I love it.” Her gaze swept over his black and white attire. “You look so elegant.”

  He bowed over her han
d then drew her close. “I wanted a moment alone with you. Before the guests arrive.”

  “Oh?”

  Steeling his nerves had become an easy task over the years, but tonight, he couldn’t push them back. His stomach trembled with them, he couldn’t catch his breath, and the words he needed eluded him.

  All because of the woman before him.

  With his heart in his throat, he went down on one knee. “Sophia, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She gasped in response, eyes wide as she stared at him in shocked delight. Her beautiful eyes glittered with tears as joy lit her face. “Elliott!”

  He rose, her hand still in his as he kissed her long and deep in an attempt to show her just how much she meant to him.

  Then he eased back to look into her eyes. “I don’t think you’ve answered,” he said, his nerves threatening to return.

  “Yes! Oh, yes. I love you more than I can say.” She tugged her hand free to lift on her toes and wrap her arms around his neck, kissing him until his passion urged him to take her back upstairs.

  “Well now,” the countess interrupted as she descended toward them. “I assume this means someone has something to tell me?”

  Elliott shared a smile with Sophia before reaching for his grandmother’s hand. “Indeed, we do. Sophia has just agreed to become my wife.”

  “That is excellent news.” His grandmother beamed at both of them. “Especially since this is an engagement party. I feared I had the timing wrong after all. Wait until you see the cake Cook baked to celebrate.”

  Elliott shook his head at her. “You are incorrigible.”

  “I do believe your grandfather said that once or twice as well.” She gave Sophia a hug. “Welcome to the family, my dear. I couldn’t be more pleased.”