Unmasking the Spy

by Janet Kent

  Alicia stared at him, speechless, as the coach rolled to a stop. He snatched his greatcoat from the seat across from them and leapt to the ground.

  “Where- where are you going?” she stammered.

  “For a walk,” he replied in that cold, mocking voice. “Don’t worry – I’ll never leave you.” He gave another bark of self-deprecating laughter. “If you get out, don’t go far… we’ll be leaving again as soon as the horses have been changed.”

  He strode off, without another word, and without bothering to help her down.

  To be honest, Alicia couldn’t blame him.

  ###

  Ian’s furious walk took twice as long as the procurement of fresh horses, so his darling wife was already seated inside the coach when he hauled himself up and in. Neither spoke nor looked at the other, and the next four hours were spent in stony silence until the coach pulled up at another stop to change the horses one last time. As it was nearing eight o’clock, he invited her down from the coach to partake of what supper they could before the final leg of the trip. She agreed with alacrity. Other than that small exchange, no other words were spoken until the coach pulled up at Heatherley, sometime well after midnight.

  He led the new Mrs. Morrissey up the walk and in the door. He made the introductions to the few servants who greeted them, hyperaware of their carefully concealed surprise.

  Knowing his sisters were abed – and hardly expecting him to bring home a wife, as he hadn’t written to share the joyous tidings – he marched her up the stairs to his quarters and directly into his bedchamber. Just the thought of her long-abandoned virginity steamed his already simmering blood past the boiling point.

  What a fool he’d been to be taken in by her classic beauty and seeming innocence! He’d misjudged her character even worse than could be expected. Although she’d had the grace to blush, that very fact proclaimed she’d been free with her favors. He’d been right about her from the start. London ladies were all alike, after all – selfish, flighty, untrustworthy creatures fit for breeding and hostessing, not love and friendship.

  He’d been taken in by the performance of a consummate actress, but flaunting her careless promiscuity had been the wrong thing to do. No matter how many lovers she’d entertained in the past, he intended to make her wedding night a ravishment she’d never forget.

  “Strip.”

  “What?” she gasped, her hand flying to her throat.

  “Don’t play the innocent with me,” he commanded. “You’ve already admitted the lie to that claim. Strip.”

  She glanced around the well-lit room, backing up until her legs brushed against the foot of his massive four-poster bed.

  “Not for your husband?” he taunted, advancing on her like a lion to his prey. She gripped her upper arms and closed her eyes as though he wouldn’t be sneering at her if she couldn’t see it happen.

  With a growl, Ian snatched her up by the waist and tossed her into the center of the bed. The breath whooshed out of her lungs, but she kept her eyelids squeezed tight and her fists balled at her sides.

  Ian crawled over her, jerking her skirts up over her hips so that her most private of areas was laid bare for him to see.

  “This?” he jeered, moving his finger along her skin in an ever-shrinking circle. “This is what you give away to anyone who wants it?”

  She jumped when his finger touched the edge of her curly hairs.

  Ian pushed himself to his knees to loosen his pants just enough to spring free. “Open your eyes,” he commanded. “I want you to see what you’re getting, because this is the last time you’ll have it.”

  Alicia cracked open one eye, took one frightened look, mashed her eyelids shut again, and shook her head violently.

  “No? You can’t tell me no,” he scoffed, leaning over her and positioning himself to thrust. “I’m your husband. I own you. I own your body. I can have it whenever I like.”

  He nudged the tight, dry opening with the tip of his member and tried to decide whether he could bring himself to take his wife in anger when a single tear escaped from under her quivering lashes and traced a solemn path into her hair.

  Devil take it. He couldn’t do it.

  A growl rumbled deep in his throat and she jumped again, her whole body trembling with fear and trepidation. Ian gritted his teeth and changed position so that he lay against her side, rather than pushing at the entrance between her legs. Against his will, he leaned forward and kissed her temple where the tear had left its damp residue.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispered.

  Another tear slid from her lashes and he brushed it away with a feathery kiss. A sob hitched in her throat. She opened her mouth to take a ragged breath and he took the opportunity to claim it with his own.

  At first, she didn’t respond. He slid his hand across the bodice of her carriage dress and squeezed the breast beneath. She still made no effort to return his kisses, but her eyelids twitched and her breathing became shallow.

  He peppered trails of kisses across her face and down her neck. Her breasts swelled beneath his hands and her hard little nipples scraped against his palms.

  Propping himself up on one elbow, Ian slid his hand down past the fabric bunched at her waist to the curls below. This time, moisture greeted his fingertips. Her thighs trembled at his touch, but when he slid one finger into her moist heat, she gasped and her tongue found his.

  Ian needed no more invitation.

  Without stopping his gentle torture, he slid in below his finger. Kissing and thrusting and stroking, his boots scratched against the blanket and her clenched fists found their way to his hair, forcing his mouth to hers.

  The moment after she shattered, he found his own release. He collapsed on top of her and lay there for several minutes, panting from exertion and listening to the rapid beating of her heart.

  Lethargic relaxation settled through him and he rolled to one side. He wondered how shocked his household would be to find them there in the morning, sleeping fully clothed in the bed. He tucked himself back into his pantaloons and turned to his wife. Another tear ran down her cheek and she had not yet opened her eyes.

  Feeling guilty for some reason he couldn’t quite name, Ian sat up and tugged her skirts back down over her legs. He got to his feet and rung the bell for someone to bring the new Mrs. Morrissey her trousseau and other personal items. He didn’t move her since he planned to bed down elsewhere for the night.

  He doubted he’d get much sleep anyway.

  ###

  Even before she opened her eyes to the spacious, warm-hued bedchamber, Alicia knew she wasn’t in Chadwick House. The carriage ride to Heatherley had been awful – she certainly hadn’t handled the explanation of her non-virginity well – but every emotional second of last night’s consummation was etched into her brain.

  She’d let him do it. Worse, she’d encouraged him.

  Granted, he was her husband, but her husband was no Rogue. How could she love one man and make love to another? Alicia grimaced into her pillow and faced an unflattering truth. Perhaps she wasn’t in love with Rogue. Perhaps what she’d felt for him was passion, coupled with the overwhelming desire for adventure and romance.

  Alicia swallowed. Perhaps she had been in love with the idea of Rogue, but not the man himself. After all, what did she know about him? He had a sick sister and cut a dashing figure when dressed in black. Hardly an auspicious start for a lifelong commitment.

  No doubt what he felt for her was lust, not love. He didn’t even know her true name. Oh, why had she been so determined to give her virginity for a dream?

  Sighing at her stupidity, Alicia rolled over and sat up in the big bed. She might have had a better beginning with her new husband if she’d bothered thinking of him first. Although unromantic, Ian was never malicious, snide, spiteful or cruel. In short, not a bad person. She should have been dancing in her excitement to escape Louis with such a respectable sort.

  He hadn’t even forced her attentions last
night, when it would have been within his rights to do so. Despite how angry she’d made him, he had cared for her feelings and wanted to make her enjoy the encounter as much as possible.

  At the least, she ought to return the favor and try to make their marriage as tolerable as possible.

  He’d said he never planned to touch her again. She wasn’t sure she could live without passion, now that she knew its intoxicating power. But in order to coax him back to her bed, she would first have to inveigle her way into his heart. His respect, if not his love, was a prize to win at all costs.

  The first step would be to find him. She couldn’t commit herself to his lifelong happiness from the bedroom. Alicia tugged the bellpull and walked across the carpeted floor to the window. She pushed aside one of the thick gold curtains and took in her first view of the lawns at Heatherley.

  Heavenly!

  The lush grass stretched to the horizon. Birds alighted from treetops and a large blue lake shone in the morning sun. A stable next to a well-worn track proclaimed the popularity of horseback riding. Cultivated rows of green behind trim hedges indicated a large, well-kept garden. What a beautiful home!

  She was still smiling out the window when a maid appeared to help her dress, and Alicia tripped down the steps in her eagerness to explore the grounds outside. First, she found four women, exiting the breakfast-room with equal expressions of surprise.

  Alicia stumbled to a stop and stared back.

  Any fear that he kept a harem of houris disappeared the moment she realized they were female versions of Ian. They were dark-haired and beautiful, and seemed to be near Alicia’s age. The tallest one wore an exquisite morning dress, her black hair piled in high fashion atop her head as though she just stepped from a fashion plate. The shorter, fidgety one to the left crossed her arms and looked Alicia up and down. The skinny one to the right brought an ivory fan from out of nowhere and began cooling her face.

  The softer, rounder girl in the back bounced twice on her toes before elbowing her way through them and peering up at Alicia with avid curiosity.

  “Who’re you?”

  “I… I’m Alicia Ki- Morrissey,” she stammered.

  The girl clapped her hands together in delight. “Then it’s true! Famous!” She turned to give the other women a quick glare before bestowing another beatific smile on Alicia. “I may be the youngest, but I haven’t forgotten my manners. We’re Ian’s sisters, of course. I’m Carlotta, and this–” she pointed at the slender one fanning herself, “is Poppy, the eldest. This–” she gestured at the one with the extravagant curls, “is Julia, the second-eldest, and this–” with a wave at the frowning beauty to her left, “is Mavis.”

  Sisters? Four of them? And he hadn’t said a word!

  “Charmed,” Alicia managed after taking in a shaky breath, hoping her shock wasn’t evident on her face. Her wish was not granted.

  “What!” exclaimed Carlotta, chortling behind clasped hands. “That rascal didn’t mention the most charming inhabitants of Heatherley?”

  “He did say something about his horse,” Alicia blurted, and blushed at her outburst.

  “Oh, of course,” replied Carlotta, as if no further explanations were necessary. “He’s no doubt off with Pegasus now, the bounder.”

  “Pegasus?” Alicia repeated, trying not to laugh. She’d thought something was fishy about Pegabus, the mighty Greek warrior.

  “That’s his horse. I named him myself. Come, come, you must be hungry! We just finished, but of course we’ll sit with you while you eat. We’re your new sisters, after all! And this morning, Cook made my favorite jam. You’ll have to try it. Oh, and tell us all about yourself! We’re dying to hear everything. How did you meet? Was it love at first sight? When Poppy told him to bring home a bride, we never imagined he’d really do so – he’s never listened to us before. What a lark!”

  Alicia allowed herself to be led to the table and her plate piled with food. Carlotta kept up a steady patter of prattle and questions while she ate, never seeming to mind that Alicia was quite incapable of answering. The rest of the sisters didn’t try to squeeze in a single word edgewise until Alicia had nodded at a footman to take her empty plate away.

  “Hush now, Carlotta,” said the beauty Alicia remembered as Julia. “Give her a chance to speak. No doubt she has questions of her own.”

  With a hesitant smile, Alicia tried to think of an intelligent question. Her mind drew a blank. “In becoming mistress of this house,” she said finally, “I didn’t expect to be usurping anyone else’s position. If your roles have changed for the worse because of me, please let me know.”

  “Aren’t you sweet,” answered Poppy, laying her fan against her chest. “I should hope I’m glad to have you. I didn’t want to be mistress here forever. We all hope to find husbands of our own.”

  “Oh! Of course. I only meant–”

  “She knows what you meant,” interrupted Carlotta with a roll of her eyes. “She’s being dramatic. Besides, we’ve only been ‘mistresses’ of Heatherley for a little over a year. We were just surprised to find Ian had taken a wife and not told us. Shocked, really. We’d sort of imagined ourselves to be present for the wedding, whenever he got around to having one. And to hear it from the staff is bad form at its worst. Someone needs to teach him a thing or two about good manners. Where is he?”

  ###

  Ian returned his horse to the stable and trudged toward the house, not quite as refreshed as he’d hoped after such a long ride. He’d had a chance to do some soul-searching, trying to decide how he felt about entering into an unwanted marriage to save the reputation of a girl who’d already given her virginity away. He was disappointed, yes, but not quite as disillusioned as he first imagined himself to be. After all, theirs was not a love match, and she had made him no promises.

  Now that he’d had the opportunity to ponder the situation with some distance between them, he also had to admit that her blush when she told him the bad news and her inability to meet his eyes were probably because she’d been embarrassed – not because she’d been with legions of men.

  He had no doubt been both unreasonable and unfair. Chances were strong that her first lover had been her fiancé, repulsive though he may be. If she thought she was going to marry him, perhaps she’d considered her virginity less of an issue. Should an Interesting Condition have ensued, theirs wouldn’t have been the first eight-month baby accepted by the ton. If he judged her by those standards instead of his own, she would not seem lacking. She had done nothing else to earn anything but his begrudging respect.

  Besides, men didn’t come to their marriages virgins. Lord knew he hadn’t.

  And she’d stated her intent to be faithful to him, even before he’d made that stupid pledge never to touch her again. He’d been so mired in misery over losing Elizabeth that he hadn’t seen the beautiful bride in front of his face.

  If he were to continue being honest with himself, he and Elizabeth had not yet fallen in love. Wasn’t that why he’d planned an extended visit, for them to discover whether they would suit? There had been no commitment. Although she clearly matched him passion for passion, she had been an innocent until that last night. Ian grimaced. He’d had no business making love to her. He’d just been so caught up in the moment that – no. No excuses. He was not to forgive himself so easily. Not when he had a wife, whom he should concentrate on making the center of his life.

  Until their interminable coach ride to Heatherley, he and Alicia had shared a burgeoning friendship, based on mutual respect and a sense of camaraderie. Was that not as good a foundation for love as any? If he tried to fill her days with happiness and her nights with passion, might they not develop a relationship nearly as idyllic as the one his parents had shared?

  Didn’t he owe himself the attempt?

  Ian pushed open the side door and let himself in, surprised to discover two of his sisters waiting for him. Mavis, as usual, had her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. Julia was adjusti
ng her towering curls in a gilded hand mirror, which she shoved into a pocket as soon as she saw him come in the door.

  “Ladies,” Ian said with a bow. No doubt they were out of sorts with him. He’d left the house before they’d awakened because he couldn’t think of a single explanation for his hasty marriage and hadn’t relished a confrontation. Time, it seemed, had run out.

  “So,” Mavis bit out, grinding her fists into her hips. “Got a new wife, do you?”

  Closing the door behind him, Ian tried to think of a quelling response, but the best he could come up with was a simple, “Yes.”

  “Might you have told us?” Julia asked with a delicate sniff.

  “I meant to. It happened quickly.”

  “No doubt,” muttered Mavis. “You’ve been gone but two weeks.”

  “One can only assume…” began Julia, allowing her voice to trail off.

  He sighed. He would have to tell the truth. “She didn’t trap herself to me, if that’s what you think. At least, not on purpose. We did get ourselves in a bit of a bind, but it was completely my fault. There was actually someone else who wanted to marry her.”

  “Oh!” Julia exclaimed, startled.

  Mavis relaxed her arms. “What happened?”

  “We were at a party. Her would-be fiancé upset her, so I took her into an empty room to give her a chance to vent her frustration in private.”

  “Like you do for us,” Julia said with a nod.

  “That was stupid,” Mavis added with a patronizing expression. “She isn’t one of us.”

  “She is now,” Ian corrected, giving her a sharp look when she scowled at him.

  “What about Poppy?” asked Julia.

  “What about her? She was the one who wanted me to bring home a bride.”

  “Don’t be obtuse. We all wanted you to marry. We just didn’t expect you to spring it on us. Poppy went to bed the mistress of Heatherley and she awoke a plain nobody.”

  “She’s neither plain nor a nobody. Alicia will need help, and I’m sure she will continue to rely on Poppy until such time as Poppy finds her own husband. And… I agree. It wasn’t very well done of me to arrive without notice.”