“When can I come to your Gray’s Inn chambers?” Simon asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll tell my clerk to expect you.”
Simon nodded. “Until then.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Gareth saw the door to the ladies’ retiring room open and Lady Weatherby step outside. She gave him a discrete nod and stayed by the door. She knew not to approach until Gareth departed. He had confidence the voluptuous widow could easily delay Marbury long enough for Gareth to see to his second task of the evening.
Gareth glanced at the glass of champagne Simon was holding. “There are servants to fetch whatever you want,” he said.
Simon shrugged and smiled. “I needed to stretch my legs.”
And to talk to someone, Gareth thought.
Even though he wasn’t able to pursue the man Simon had been speaking with, Gareth still counted the evening a success. Simon trusted him enough to come to his chambers tomorrow and enter into a business arrangement.
Gareth’s thoughts turned to Jane alone in the private theatre box. Excitement thrummed in his veins.
Now he’d attend to his second task for the evening.
…
Jane shifted in her seat as she sat alone in the box. After Simon had excused himself to fetch her a glass of champagne, her thoughts immediately returned to the guests below. She leaned forward, scanning the seats for signs of Gareth and his lady friend.
Both chairs were empty.
Her thoughts turned cold. Had Gareth and the woman left the performance without her noticing? Were they lovers who had departed to be together?
And why did she care? To make things worse, added to her disappointment were feelings of guilt. She was here tonight as Simon’s guest. She shouldn’t be thinking of Gareth.
Footsteps sounded behind her. Jane quickly pasted a smile on her face and turned to greet Simon.
Gareth Ramsey entered the box instead.
Shock flew through her, and she jumped to her feet. “What the devil!”
“Shh.” He grasped her arm and pulled her deep into the box, behind the curtains, away from any prying eyes. He wore a dark blue coat that heightened his ruggedly handsome features. Her heart hammered foolishly as a shudder heated her body at his nearness.
She tugged on her arm. “You’re insane! This is entirely improper,” she hissed.
“No one can see or hear us.”
“My escort will return,” she protested.
“Not for a while.”
“How on earth could you know that?”
“I know,” he said, a cold edge of irony in his voice.
Gareth Ramsey was brash and infuriating. He was also a tall dark-haired devil who brought her senses to life. “You can’t keep pulling me into secluded corners at your whim.”
“You never answered my question in the park.”
Her mind faltered. “What question?”
“Why choose Simon Marbury to be your lover?”
She was caught off guard by the sudden intensity of his gaze. He’d barged into a private box and hauled her behind a curtain just to ask her that?
“It’s none of your concern. Besides, why should you care? You’re escorting a lady tonight.” Her voice sounded shrewish to her own ears.
He arched a dark eyebrow. “Jealous, are you?”
“Never. Just pointing out a fact.”
“She’s my cousin.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Your cousin? Don’t you dare treat me like a fool—”
“You are jealous.”
Narrowing her eyes, she pointed to the exit. “Get out.”
“Not without a price.”
“A price?”
“A kiss.”
She gasped. “You arrogant oaf!”
He pulled her into his arms.
As soon as he touched her, her skin sizzled and she felt an immediate and total attraction. Panic followed, welling in her throat. “We will be discovered.”
“No, we won’t.”
She looked up into his eyes. “Why do you insist upon a kiss?”
Reaching out, he trailed a finger down her cheek. “You intrigue me. I want to be your lover. Burn your list, Jane. Let me be the one.”
Her heart raced. She watched in fascinated horror as he lowered his head. His lips were soft and warm as they brushed hers. She should push him away. Instead, a blast of heat skittered along her nerves and her lips parted. He took advantage and thrust his tongue inside to explore her mouth. Her hands settled on his shoulders and his muscles flexed beneath her fingers. He groaned and pressed her closer. She gasped as her soft curves molded fully against the hard planes of his body. It felt forbidden and delicious and she wanted more. She forgot they were only hidden behind a curtain and that Simon could return at any moment. She forgot everything but the pleasure of his kiss.
His large hands ran down her sides, skimming her breasts. The pleasure was as intense as it was shocking. Then his hand cupped her breast and his thumb grazed her sensitive nipple. Shivers of delight traveled down her spine.
He would be skilled, no doubt. But she couldn’t trust him. She would never trust any man again. Every instinct in her body told her that Gareth Ramsey was dangerous. Not in a physical sense. She didn’t fear his strength and size, but there were other kinds of wounds, emotional ones, and she’d sworn never to allow herself to lose control of her emotions again.
No. An affair with Gareth Ramsey would be perilous.
Breaking the kiss, she pushed against his hard chest. “No,” she said as firmly as she could.
He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire. “Then I insist on pursuing you and changing your mind.”
Her composure was a fragile shell around her. He made her feel weak and warm and she had to put an end to these feelings once and for all.
Her chin jutted forward, and she met his eyes. “Suit yourself, Mr. Ramsey. But your efforts will lead you nowhere.”
“A challenge, Jane? I accept.”
He bowed mockingly, then turned and faded into the darkness.
…
Jane heard footsteps, but this time it was Simon who entered the box.
He carried two glasses of champagne and offered her one. “I apologize for the delay. I met an acquaintance in the lobby.” Simon’s voice was odd, but her disposition was too shaky to care.
Jane raised the glass and took a long sip to calm her nerves. Goodness! Her breathing was still ragged, her thoughts a tumble of confused emotions. Her body still thrummed with the pleasure of Gareth’s kiss. Gareth’s touch.
The remainder of the performance was long and torturous for Jane. The most dramatic parts of the play—when Hamlet killed his uncle and then died himself—held little interest for her. She kept sneaking looks at Gareth below with the woman whom he claimed to be his cousin. Jane watched the pair to see if they were romantically involved, but saw nothing to indicate they were lovers.
Was Gareth lying to her? Did he truly find her intriguing? Did he really want to be her lover? Or had she just become a conquest because she’d refused him?
It didn’t matter either way. Nothing must happen between them. She feared the way her pulse leapt with excitement whenever he was near. Feared what those emotions could make her do. She never wanted to fall under a man’s spell again.
At last the lengthy Shakespearean tragedy was over. Simon escorted her outside the theatre to his waiting carriage. Thankfully, there was no sign of Gareth Ramsey or the chestnut haired woman. A footman lowered the step and she climbed inside. Simon settled beside her on the padded bench.
“Thank you for a lovely evening,” she said.
“It was just the beginning. I have more outings planned.”
“Why agree to take me?”
“It’s no secret I find you attractive…and quite interesting.”
He spoke of her as if she were an oddity, a rare challenge to a man of his standing.
His gaze lowered to her mouth. “I’d like to
kiss you.”
She couldn’t help but find it ironic that for more than two years, no man had looked upon her with interest or had wanted to kiss her.
Now two men sought to kiss her in one night.
As Simon gazed down at her expectantly, Jane forced herself to relax. This was what she wanted, she told herself. A kiss. And it would be wonderfully passionate.
So much so that she’d forget all about Gareth Ramsey and the insane attraction she felt for the dominant, overbearing man.
Simon lowered his mouth to hers. The pressure of his lips was pleasant, similar to the first time Charles had kissed her. The scent of his cologne was a bit cloying, unlike the clean shaving soap and fresh outdoors scent of another. She pushed the intrusive thoughts aside. Leaning into Simon, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
At her touch, Simon moaned, pulled her closer, and the kiss changed. His tongue penetrated her mouth, his teeth mashed against hers, and for a startling moment she feared she wouldn’t be able to breathe. Blessedly, he lifted his head, but her relief was short lived as he licked the column of her throat, leaving a slick path on her skin.
To her dismay, Simon’s kisses were nothing like the pleasure she’d experienced in Gareth Ramsey’s arms. And Simon’s wiry build felt nothing like Gareth’s broad, muscular chest. There had been no mistaking the rush of desire she’d felt in Gareth’s embrace. It reminded her of the passion she’d heard about in the ladies’ retiring room and from her gossiping servants.
She placed her hand against Simon’s chest. His heart was pounding, his breathing ragged.
The carriage stopped in front of her town house. Simon’s face was in half shadow from the carriage lamp.
“I have not made a mistake about you, my lady. You are almost ready.”
Her brow creased. Ready for what? Was he referring to an illicit liaison?
“It’s quite late. I fear I’m tired tonight,” she found herself saying.
A dark flicker crossed his face as he bent to kiss her gloved hand, and she feared she had insulted him, but when he raised his head, the smooth smile was back in place. “I understand.”
She was grateful he didn’t press for more intimacy tonight. She needed to go inside and calm her racing thoughts. And her confusion.
“I want you to meet my friends. We are going to Vauxhall Gardens later this week. Will you accompany me?” he said.
She was surprised by the request. It seemed he wasn’t put off by her refusal to invite him inside her home.
Simon stared at her, waiting for her answer.
“Of course. I’d be delighted to accompany you.” If her smile was slightly strained, he didn’t notice.
Chapter Eight
Gareth met Daniel Forster early the next morning at the foot of the stairs outside St. Bartholomew’s hospital.
“I received your note,” Gareth said.
Together they started up the stone steps leading into the building. “There’s a patient who can provide useful information for the mission,” Daniel said.
As soon as they entered, the odors of sweat and vomit mingled with the strong scent of turpentine assailed them. One of Gareth’s earlier missions had required him to visit injured soldiers fortunate enough to make it back to London after surviving Waterloo. He’d enjoyed talking with the soldiers, but at the same time he’d come to dread the hospital.
They made him feel as if he were suffocating, the walls containing every sort of human suffering. The scene never changed, only the faces of the doctors and the nurses. The grieving families often huddled in corners, trying desperately not to give up hope.
They walked down a long hallway and passed a doctor with thick spectacles who was clutching a black bag. Nurses rushed to and from rooms.
“How are you progressing with Marbury?” Daniel asked.
“I’ve told him I have a client who wishes to invest in his company, but remain anonymous. Someone who’s interested in turning a quick profit, no questions asked. Marbury insisted on going to the Seven Sins to discuss details. He was more amicable afterwards, but he still has not committed.”
Daniel eyed him. “That seedy brothel?”
“It’s Marbury’s favorite. I stayed downstairs and gambled.” Gareth had never visited the brothel in the past and hadn’t given it much thought. Even if Daniel succeeded in arresting the proprietor and shutting down the place, another establishment would open soon after. What bothered him the most was that Jane intended to make Simon her lover. She had no idea Simon frequented such a sordid place.
“Do you think Marbury will take the bait?” Daniel said.
“I do. I’m meeting him tomorrow in my chambers to finalize a deal.”
“Good.” They turned a corner and stopped in front of a door. “This is it,” Daniel said.
They entered a long room with half a dozen beds. The patient in the first bed caught Gareth’s attention. The man was young, no more than twenty years, with a head of straw-colored hair. Gareth’s gaze immediately went to a bandaged stump, what had once been the man’s right leg.
“Good morning, Private Stevens,” Daniel said.
The soldier turned to the doorway where Gareth and Daniel stood. Cuts and bruises marred his face. One eye was swollen shut.
Daniel motioned to Gareth. “This is Mr. Ramsey. We have a few more questions for you.”
Stevens nodded at Daniel. “I’ll do the best I can, Lord Clayborne.”
Gareth’s jaw set as he approached the bedside. The man was too young to suffer the loss of his leg. Gareth had known men who had died from the same injury. Stevens was lucky to be close to London at the time of the accident. If he had been on the battlefield, he would surely have perished from loss of blood.
“You’ve told me your story, but please tell it again for Mr. Ramsey,” Daniel said.
The soldier’s good eye turned to Gareth. “We were training, sir. My company received four new cannons. My superior ordered us to fire them during our routine drills. I loaded the cannon and the explosives just like we were trained. I lit the fuse and there was a loud explosion. I remember being hurled through the air and the shock of it…the shock of something tearing into my leg. I hit the ground and then it all went black. I don’t remember anything else. Until I woke from the pain. The unbearable pain.” He choked as his eyes traveled to the stump.
“You mentioned four new cannons. Did the others malfunction on their users?” Gareth asked.
“No. Ours was the last to be fired. The others functioned properly,” Stevens said.
“Do you remember the make of the cannon you used?” Daniel asked.
“They were all Marbury cannons, my lord.”
“Thank you, private. I know this is difficult for you,” Daniel said.
Stevens stared at them with his good eye. “We were training. I never even made it to battle.”
“I promise you that we’re going to investigate the faulty cannon,” Daniel said.
“But how will I work, my lord? I married Bessie just before the accident. She’s expecting our first babe,” the soldier’s voice cracked.
Gareth’s gut clenched. Simon Marbury would pay for ruining this young man’s life.
Gareth reached out to clasp the private’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I need a secretary at my Gray’s Inn chambers and I promise that you will always find work. Think only of your recovery for now.”
Daniel and Gareth left the hospital.
“Not all Marbury cannons are defective,” Daniel said. “One out of four was inferior to that specific regiment. Simon Marbury is bribing the military inspectors and possibly their superiors, and we can’t arrest him until we identify everyone involved. If Marbury is questioned before then, he’ll undoubtedly argue that since all his cannons passed inspection, the failure must not be from a manufacturing defect.”
Gareth nodded. “I have an appointment to meet with Simon tomorrow. Marbury has weaknesses, and I plan to exploit them to learn the truth.”
> …
At precisely two o’clock the following afternoon, Simon Marbury entered Gareth’s Gray’s Inn chambers.
“Please sit,” Gareth said, motioning to a chair before his mahogany desk. He rose and went to a sideboard in the corner of his office, poured two glasses of whiskey, and handed one to Simon.
Sipping the alcohol, Simon surveyed Gareth’s chambers and noted the large desk, the stack of litigation documents with polished stone paperweights on a side Pembroke table, and the brass scales of justice on the mantle.
“I never thought I’d be in need of a barrister. My solicitor handles all my legal business,” Simon said.
“Thankfully you do not need my legal services. Consider me a liaison between my client and you,” Gareth said.
Simon turned away from the mantle. “I admit this is a first for me. I have always met my business investors face-to-face.”
“As I said before, my client prefers to remain anonymous. He feels his initial investment of twenty thousand pounds is sufficient for you to trust him.”
The Home Office had provided the money. Daniel understood it would take a considerable amount of blunt to entice Marbury to conduct business with an unknown partner. Simon needed the money. It was Gareth’s job to coax him into accepting it.
“My investor is smart and influential. He approached me and said there was no shrewder business owner than Simon Marbury.”
Simon eyes shone bright. “He isn’t wrong.”
Gareth had years of experience to hone his skills of persuasion. He had swayed and won over Old Bailey judges and juries as well as his own clients. Just as Gareth suspected, a little praise and vanity stroking put Simon at ease.
“There is one condition. My client wants to be certain that all your cannons will make it past military inspection.”
A smug grin spread across Simon’s face. “It’s not a problem. I’ve devised a way.”
Gareth studied Simon. “How?”
“Your client wishes to remain anonymous and I wish to keep my secrets. That being said, you can reassure him that the cannons will pass inspection,” said Simon.
At the Spy's Pleasure Page 7