Unmasking the Spy

by Janet Kent

  Ian sprinted up the stairs to his bedroom and slipped the stiff black eye-mask from his table to his pocket. He let himself out the door with a self-deprecating chuckle and began the long, cold walk to Chadwick House, hoping against hope that she would be there to meet him one last time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Alicia’s trembling fingers struggled with the small, slippery patches. Frustrated, she pasted them on her face in jerky, haphazard movements then slapped on her cap and stared at her bleak reflection.

  This was the last night Rogue could come and save her. This was her last chance for love.

  Her back leapt ramrod straight in her chair as a sudden thought sprang to her mind. What if Rogue, in a misguided fit of honor, refused to take her from a man who'd already pledged himself to her? No. She wouldn't have it. She would do anything – anything! – for a chance at true love.

  One way or another, tomorrow marked the start of a different life.

  Alicia snuffed out her candle and made her way downstairs, prepared to wait for hours if need be. She pushed open the library door and her heart stuttered in her chest.

  A familiar figure cut a dashing silhouette, backlit by the waning moon as he lounged against the window. If he saw her, he didn’t move.

  With a sigh of unparalleled relief, Alicia shut the door behind her and ran to Rogue. She launched herself into his arms, enveloping him in a tight hug. His hands were hesitant at her waist and he did not return her embrace. Undaunted, Alicia pressed a line of fierce kisses against the scratchy stubble of his jaw, but when even this gained no response, she took a small step backward, squinting up at him in concern.

  “What is it?”

  Although she could not see his face, sorrow and regret dampened his voice.

  “Elizabeth,” he said. “I- I cannot.”

  Alicia’s mouth fell open and the first drops of icy fear rolled down her spine. Had he discovered her true identity and heard the vicious rumors of her alleged freedom with her favors? Had he come to formally retract the promise he had not quite pledged?

  “Rogue,” she said haltingly. “Do not say no.”

  “I’m sorry.” He turned sideways to gaze out the window, presenting her with his inscrutable profile. “I have come to tell you I shall not be pressing my suit after all.”

  “You cannot mean it,” she breathed.

  He did not turn from the window. “It is my deepest regret.”

  Near tears, she tugged at his arm, trying to make him face her. “But Rogue,” she pleaded. “I love–”

  His fingers gripped her upper arms to shake her before she realized he’d even turned. “Do not say it, sweeting. I implore you.”

  She stared at him in the darkness. All her dreams were just that – dreams. She would have sacrificed everything for him. Her social standing. Her economic security. Her reputation. Anything – just to have him as her own, to have a taste of love.

  His fingers still wrapped around her arms. Alicia reached up to push them away but halted when her palms covered his hands. He’d called her “sweeting.” All was not lost. Arms crossed over her chest, she squeezed his hands with hers.

  “I cannot hide my feelings,” she whispered. His hands trembled.

  “I’m leaving. We’ll not meet again.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Might as well be another world.”

  “Take me with you,” she begged, flinging her arms around his neck. He did not pull away.

  “I cannot,” he whispered hoarsely. “I would not. Please don’t ask it of me.”

  Pushing up with her toes, Alicia brushed his open mouth with her own. As if he couldn’t help himself, he captured her lip between his teeth then claimed her mouth in a searing kiss before pushing her away.

  “Elizabeth, no. I shouldn’t have come. I can’t stay.”

  “Then tonight is all we have,” Alicia answered, straining against him until their breath mingled moist and hot and desperate.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking. I cannot agree to… to this.”

  “Then don’t speak,” she murmured and trapped his mouth with hers, sliding her tongue along his lower lip and pressing her body against him. He was still as a statue for only a second before his arms clamped around her and the kiss turned carnal.

  He loved her. Or, if he didn’t quite yet, she’d make him love her! If necessary, she’d use that misguided sense of honor to trap him to her any way possible. She had to. She could stop at nothing. Take no chances. If giving herself to him was what it took to bind him to her, then so be it. They were destined to be together. She meant to prove it.

  Alicia’s fingers tangled in the back of Rogue’s hair as she clutched his collar and refused to end the kiss, for fear he might refuse her unspoken offering.

  His hands fumbled at the back of her nightdress. When she felt the first draft of cold air against her naked skin, she allowed herself a grin of triumph. Her plan was working! Soon, Rogue would be her husband. Tonight, she would marry him in her heart.

  The rough pads of his fingers skated down her naked back, sending a shiver of excitement in their wake. He cupped her derrière with both hands and lifted her to him. Her legs wrapped around his waist of their own volition and he turned to place her on the cushioned window seat without breaking the heat of their kiss.

  Even with the dim light of the moon to her back, the stiff black mask obscured his eyes, but she could feel the proof of his desire in the hard ridge pulsing against the juncture of her thighs. A small shudder trembled down her spine and her nipples hardened in response.

  With one hand on her lower back, keeping her pressed against his arousal, his other hand slid up her shoulder to stroke her cheek before pushing the thin cloth of her nightdress from her chest. He freed both swollen breasts, his caressing palm alternating between them, cupping and squeezing and teasing.

  A swirl of heat began between her thighs and spread throughout her body. Everywhere he touched, her skin seemed to tighten and respond, and whenever his artful hands moved elsewhere, she ached for their return.

  His head dipped to her chest, foregoing kisses to capture one straining nipple between gentle teeth. Alicia gasped and arched her back, the involuntary response affording him even greater access. He cupped her breasts with both hands, smothering his face between them and pressing his lips to the valley between. The rough skin of his unshaved cheeks taunted her nipples further, making Alicia writhe against him in exquisite agony.

  He ran his hands down her sides and up her trembling legs, pushing her nightdress up to her waist. With one last lick to each erect nipple, he dropped to his knees and settled his face between her thighs before her muddled mind had a moment to imagine what he might be planning to do.

  The first swipe of his tongue against her moist skin nearly caused Alicia to scream, and she gripped his hair with her hands, unsure if she should force him up or trap him to her. His fingers found their way back to her breasts, kneading and pinching and rubbing, and Alicia couldn’t hear herself think over the sound of her own panting breaths.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t stand the sweet torture a moment longer, an explosion of pure sensation wracked her body. Her toes twitched, her legs contracted against his head, and her breath caught her lungs in short, convulsive gasps.

  Before the spasms had completely ceased, Rogue sprang to his feet and had his pantaloons unfastened within seconds. Something long and hard and thick bobbed against her trembling thighs and the tip pressed against the still-sensitive skin between. He thrust inside with one quick movement, his hand clapped across her mouth to drown her startled scream as he punctured her last trace of innocence.

  Alicia felt stretched, filled, claimed. Stimulated. His hand reached down to where their bodies joined, and before she could do more than grip his arms to hold on, the heady sensation returned, this time ripping through them both.

  Contented, she sagged against him, barely noticing as he carefully withdrew, r
etied his pantaloons and laced her nightdress back around her shoulders. He was incredible. Wonderful. Hers.

  She opened her mouth to spill out her whole sad story, beginning with the truth of her name and ending with the damnable scandal, but he silenced her with a kiss. She broke away after a long moment, blissfully happy and determined to tell him how much he meant to her.

  “Oh, Rogue,” she began in a dreamy voice. “When we marry–”

  He recoiled, horror evident in both his posture and his voice.

  “What?” he choked out, running an agitated hand through his hair. “I told you I couldn’t. Elizabeth, this was good-bye.”

  A blade of devastating truth sliced through her soul as Alicia realized how wrong she’d been. “Rogue,” she begged, both her voice and heart breaking. She reached out in a desperate bid to cling to him, but he sprang back, holding up the palms of his hands.

  “No. No. No,” he stammered, glancing around the room as if he hoped a hole would burst forth and swallow him whole. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize – oh, Elizabeth. Don’t you know how I feel for you? Don’t you know I’d marry you if only I could? This was supposed to be good-bye. I never even meant to kiss you. You’re just so damn irresistible, and I couldn’t bear to leave you – oh, God. I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.”

  And on these words, he spun around and ran from the room, leaving her to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart, straighten her blood-stained nightdress, and confine herself to a living hell, knowing first thing in the morning, before God and her father, she’d be pledging herself to a perfectly nice man – no longer a virgin.

  ###

  No man ever stood at the altar feeling guiltier than he. Just when Ian thought he couldn’t have mucked up his life any more than it already was, he’d had to have one last look at Elizabeth. How arrogant to think he’d waltz in and out of her life unscathed. How stupid to think she’d let him. He deserved the torture his conscience now inflicted upon him for his reckless night of desperate lovemaking – but Elizabeth did not. There was no sense wishing he’d made love to her on their marriage bed instead of a window seat. He hadn’t.

  He was the worst kind of cad and sure to burn in hell, God save him.

  And Alicia – poor Alicia! – looked just as miserable. She didn’t want to marry any more than he did, but here she was, putting on a brave face and forcing herself to go through with it. She looked young. Beautiful. Stoic.

  Ian considered his new wife as they rushed through a farce of a wedding breakfast before changing clothes and bundling into his waiting coach. She deserved a chance at happiness. He would have to put all thoughts of Elizabeth behind him and concentrate on Alicia.

  She sat ramrod straight, encased in an emerald green carriage dress and staring silently out the window as they rolled out of London. When they rolled over a large rut in the road, she winced and changed position a little, but continued to gaze outside, saying nothing.

  He would have to break the silence himself.

  “Heatherley is very nice,” he offered, hating the halting sound to his voice. “I hope you won’t mind the country. I miss it very much.”

  At first, he was afraid she would not respond, but after a long moment she turned her head and met his eyes. “I’m sure I will like it above all else,” she said.

  Ian hesitated, unsure whether or not she was placating him.

  “If something disagrees with you there,” he said after a minute, “be sure to let me know. I want you to be comfortable.”

  She nodded and then cocked her head to peer at him with curiosity. “What do you miss the most about Heatherley?”

  “My horse,” he answered with an irreverent grin, pleased to find he’d startled a smile out of her.

  “What’s his name?”

  Ian blinked. For some reason, he hadn’t anticipated that question. “His name,” he answered with a small cough, “is Pegabus.”

  “Pegabus?” she asked doubtfully. “Is that like… Pegasus?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. Pegasus would be a stupid name. Quite unmanly. His name is Pegabus. After the famous Greek, er, warrior. You know, in myths.”

  Alicia raised her eyebrows, clearly convinced he was bamming her, but turned her gaze back to the window with a smile in her eyes.

  Ian grimaced. Why hadn’t she asked what sort of horse he was, or what color, or how long he’d had him? Just add “lying through his teeth” to his ever-growing list of faults.

  Or perhaps there really was a mythological figure named Pegabus. Who knew? Pegabus the Mighty Warrior. It might have happened. Ian glared out his window. It wasn’t his fault Pegasus was such a stupid name. He should never have allowed Carlotta to name the beast. It wasn’t even a Pegasus. It was a horse. And he was an idiot, if the best he could come up with was “Pegabus.”

  Besides, she was bound to learn the truth about Pegasus – and any other stories his delightful sisters decided to tell – as soon as she arrived at Heatherley.

  ###

  As she watched the miles stretch past her window, Alicia tried her best to relax. She couldn’t help but feel she was en route to her execution. At the very least, some harsh judgment was due her once Ian learned his new bride wasn’t the innocent he expected. She’d even considered telling him before the ceremony in order to give him one last chance to cry off, but in a guilt-laden mire of self-loathing, she could not make herself do it. Where would she have gone? Her life would have been more ruined than it already was.

  It hadn’t helped that Ian had stood before the altar looking healthy and handsome and just as wretched as she felt. How horrible to have to take a wife because of honor. Alicia twisted in her seat as the coach rumbled over another patch of uneven ground. She wouldn’t be so uncomfortable today if she’d shown a bit more honor herself last night. She’d let her blind love for Rogue outweigh all other considerations, without a single thought to Ian Morrissey.

  She was a heartless wench, it seemed. Well, no more. It wasn’t Ian’s fault she’d already fallen in love before she met him. Although her heart was bruised and sore, she owed him nothing less than her loyalty, and the respect to give their marriage an honest try. What else did he have to look forward to?

  Unbidden, the memory of her father’s illegible scratch-marks came to mind. Alicia narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She’d been too overwrought to study the final numbers when she signed the marriage contract, but a dowry like that would be enough to interest any man in her hand. She cast Ian a sidelong glance. Perhaps the supposed “compromise” had been a contrived affair, and she’d fallen right into the hands of the sort of money-grubbing bounder she’d hoped to avoid.

  Alicia sniffed. If that was the case, he deserved what he got. She’d lost her innocence in more ways than one, and she wasn’t going to fall victim to just another handsome face. She’d been blind not to realize he was bound to be far more attracted to the Chadwick fortune than to her. Just the thought of what an unmitigated fool she’d been over the past few weeks was enough to send Alicia into an ill-concealed fit of rage.

  “I hope you’re happy with yourself,” she seethed, and felt vindicated in her suspicions when a guilt-ridden expression of pure panic crossed his face before he schooled his features into a bland mask.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “My dowry!” she cried, throwing her palms up in a furious gesture of impotent anger.

  “Your what?”

  “I know you married me for my money, so there’s no sense playing games with words. You wanted it and now you have it, so I hope you’re happy.”

  “Was I also after your title, then?”

  “It passes to my son, not you. I suppose I can at least be glad of that.”

  “I see,” he said, his tone moderated and cold. “Look around you, Alicia. Are we in a mail coach?”

  “Humph. I imagine you’ll be improving the number and quality of everything you own, now that you have
a large chunk of my father’s money at your control.”

  “And I imagine that you,” he answered, staring at her without blinking, “are nothing but a shallow, spoiled, ignorant brat who has never once held a single thought for anyone else in her silly little head. I don’t care a button for what you might or might not imagine. To the devil with what you think.”

  Alicia gasped and crossed her arms tightly. “Well, you get what you pay for,” she muttered. “And nothing less than you deserve.”

  “I didn’t pay for you, Alicia.”

  “Precisely,” she snapped and turned the back of her head to him in order to stare out the window.

  “And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” she murmured.

  Lightning fast, his hand shot out and gripped her chin so hard she was sure there would be bruising. He forced her face toward his and asked in an icy tone, “Shall I assume my blushing bride has earned her lightskirt reputation?”

  A hot stain of color flooded Alicia’s face, but she glared at him without speaking.

  “I see,” he continued, with a pointed acknowledgement of her fiery blush. “And were you intimate with your ridiculous pustule of a fiancé before you had the misfortune to become compromised with one such as me?”

  Alicia flicked a glance out the window and swallowed hard before giving a quick, convulsive nod.

  Something flashed in his eyes and he pushed her from him in a quick, disgusted thrust. “You’re lying,” he said in that horrible, calm voice.

  Although Alicia shook her head, she felt the telltale heat cover her entire face.

  “How many men has it been?” he mocked. “A dozen? A hundred? Do you even recall?”

  “The number doesn’t matter and won’t change,” Alicia ground out between clenched teeth, hot tears of rage stinging her eyes. “I plan to keep my vows, distasteful as the task may be.”

  “So I am distasteful,” he said with a harsh, mirthless chuckle. “Fear not, wife. I will consummate this marriage, as is my right and my duty, but I will never touch you again. I have no wish to consign my unborn children to the questionable influence of having a mother like you.”