Jenna Petersen - [Lady Spies]

by Seduction Is Forever

  She cocked her head. “Why not just inform him of the danger? Allow him to protect himself?”

  Meredith was the one who answered. “I did a good amount of research on the man when I was first assigned the case. Apparently, Westfield loves the thrill of danger. He takes risks like they are a game to him. We fear if we share this information, he might take it as a challenge.”

  Emily nodded. She could understand Westfield’s feelings completely. She, herself, loved danger…or she had before she was attacked. She had courted it every day, taking the most dangerous and physically challenging cases their group was offered.

  Only she had been trained to handle the consequences and Westfield had not. In a flash, he could find himself overwhelmed by what had once been a lark to him.

  “Who is threatening him and why?”

  Ana was the one who shrugged now. “That’s the other part of our problem. We just don’t know. That will be something you’ll have to determine.”

  Charlie met her gaze squarely. “What do you think, Emily? Is this a case you would be interested in pursuing?”

  She hesitated. These kinds of investigations, ones that didn’t involve protection of King and Country, normally didn’t appeal to her. She didn’t want to play nursemaid to an undoubtedly spoiled rake who liked to put himself in harm’s way as a diversion. But if she refused the assignment, she might not have another chance to reenter the field for months. Doing this, protecting this man and uncovering the source of the threats against him, could prove to Charlie and Lady M that she was ready for real work again.

  If nothing else, it was a way to occupy her spinning mind.

  She nodded. “Of course I’ll take the case.”

  Charlie got to his feet with a smile. “Very good. Tomorrow night Westfield’s mother is holding a ball. I shall arrange for you to be invited. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with Meredith and Ana to go over the facts of the case and ready yourself. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact me for further details.”

  Charlie nodded to them all and headed for the door, but before he could leave, Emily said, “Charlie?”

  He turned back and she met his eyes. They were filled with kindness, concern for her, and the caring of a father. Her heart ached seeing those things. Certainly her real family had never shown her such tender emotions. That was why the Society was so important to her. Why she could not lose it. She crossed the room to him and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as she hugged him.

  When she pulled back, he smiled at her, surprised by the gesture and clearly moved by it as well. Then he shook off the reaction.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said, his voice a little gruffer than usual.

  As he shut the door behind him, Emily faced her two best friends. For the first time in months, she was about to start on a new case.

  And she had never been so thrilled and so terrified all at once.

  “What are you complaining about? It’s a case!”

  Grant Ashbury glared at his younger brother Benjamin. That look had reduced grown men to blubbering masses in interrogation, but his brother appeared less than impressed.

  “I’m going to be a damned nursemaid to some…some—she’s a society widow, for God’s sake.” Grant paced across his parlor to the fire, put a foot up on the dark stone hearth, and stared at the flames. “You can’t actually expect me to be excited about following her around ballrooms and attending blasted teas so I can watch her chat about the weather with her empty-headed friends.”

  Ben stifled a laugh, but not before Grant caught it from the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry, Grant, but Lady Allington has never seemed the kind to chat about the weather.”

  Grant shrugged one shoulder. That was true. Emily Redgrave had been out of Society since she took ill last summer, but he didn’t recall her as the flighty lady he was now describing. The few times he’d met her, he had been struck not only by her uncommon beauty, but the spark of intelligent awareness and sensuality in her eyes.

  Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to look after her like he was a governess. He was a spy, for God’s sake. There were certainly more pressing matters to attend to what with one war in France and another in the Americas.

  But he wasn’t considered fit for duties related to those matters.

  “I am being punished with this assignment,” he said through clenched teeth. “And you know it.”

  Ben sighed, but Grant could see by his brother’s expression that he agreed. He could also tell that Ben wasn’t angered like he was. His brother was relieved.

  “I realize this isn’t the kind of case that excites you.” Ben strummed his fingers along the curved dark-green chair arm in that nervous way he always did when he wanted to tell Grant something he wouldn’t like. “But it might be the best thing for you.”

  “Now you sound like those War Department officers,” Grant snapped. He strode to the bar that matched the cherrywood desk beside it and splashed a generous helping of whiskey into a tumbler. “Bastards.”

  “Those bastards may have a point.”

  Grant swigged the drink in one gulp, but he refused to meet his brother’s concerned stare.

  Ben pushed to his feet. “Look, Grant, I realize you want to be back in the field, but ever since—”

  Grant cut him off with a glare. “Don’t say it.”

  Ben pursed his lips in annoyance. “Ever since the incident, you haven’t been the same. Why not take this opportunity you’re being offered? You can come back into the field slowly, carefully, yet still prove yourself to those in charge. If you complete this mission successfully, it might open up a whole new world to you.”

  Grant stared at the empty tumbler silently. His brother was right. Hell, even his superiors at the War Department were right. He wasn’t the same lately. He was more driven. He didn’t care about risks anymore. He just wanted to work. Not feel, not think…just work. But damned if he didn’t still resent this assignment.

  “So why does Lady Allington need your protection?” Ben asked.

  Grant shrugged. “Apparently there have been some credible threats against her. Her late husband was a man of some importance, but also a man of dangerous appetites. He was killed in a duel over a married woman, if you recall.”

  Ben nodded. “Yes. The entire incident was very public, it was quite an uproar at the time.”

  “It’s possible someone who was angry at her late husband could be targeting Lady Allington. Though I don’t know why they would wait so many years to do so. But that is what I am to find out. And I’m not to let the lady know of the danger to her.”

  With a cock of his head, his brother stared at him. “Why not?”

  “She’s been ill. Apparently there is some concern about how she would take the news.”

  He shrugged. Keeping the investigation a secret from Lady Allington was fine with him. He could keep a distance from the woman, then. Not be bombarded with foolish questions and fears about monsters in the closet that would only distract him from the real threat.

  “Make the best of it,” his brother advised. “You never know where it may lead.”

  He nodded. “Yes. You’re right, of course. I’ve already made arrangements for Mother to invite Lady Allington to her ball tomorrow.”

  Ben nodded as he pulled a pocket watch from his vest and checked it. “Speaking of which, I should go over there and see her. I’m sure she has some last-minute orders to give me.”

  Grant laughed and for the first time since he’d received his assignment, he felt lighter. He could always depend on Benjamin for that. “Ah, Mother. More precise than any general.” His brother smiled as he gave a wave and left Grant alone. He walked over to the window and stared out into the crisp, cold night. Protecting Emily Redgrave wasn’t exactly the kind of case he lived for, but if it gave him a chance to prove himself, he would do it.

  If it gave him a chance to block out his demons, he would do anythi
ng.

  Chapter 2

  Grant was just keeping himself from yawning. It was only years of practiced control of everything he did and said and felt that allowed him to do it. Dear God, but he hated a ball. And he loved his mother, but her gatherings were the worst.

  He scanned the crowded ballroom with a sigh. The marble floor had been scoured to a high shine. The French doors that lined the north wall and led to the wide terrace were cracked to let a little cool air into the stifling room. And all around, a sea of perfectly coifed, painfully perfumed, and obscenely rich ladies and gentleman laughed and talked.

  Lady Westfield always drew a crush. She was popular, well liked, and powerful, though she’d never been one to hold that power over anyone’s head. Invariably, her parties were long and overly hot, not to mention always filled with more women than men. That part wasn’t accidental. She had been after Grant and his younger brother Ben to marry for years now, and packed her gatherings with eligible young ladies in the obvious hope that one of them would catch either of her sons’ attention. So far, her hopes had been unfulfilled.

  For Ben’s part, Grant often thought his brother avoided marriage if only to tease their mother. He delighted in playfully tormenting her and had from the time he was a child.

  But for Grant, it was different. His mother could never know the truth about the danger he was constantly in. That his duties to the King were the reason he would not marry, or at least not marry now.

  Grant continued to let his gaze flit from one pretty, boring face to the next. There was still plenty of time to pick some nameless beauty who was just like any other nameless beauty and settle down to produce a few heirs to his title. In another decade or so…after he was finished with his duties in the War Department, perhaps when he was ready to take a job training other spies or overseeing assignments—then he would take a wife.

  But not before. Because until he was no longer active, he was a threat to anyone close to him, anyone important to him. He had learned that lesson in Intelligence the hard way. He wouldn’t repeat that mistake again.

  “Grant?”

  He thrust away the powerful anger that suddenly shook him and turned. His mother stood at his elbow, staring up at him. Her striking silver-streaked hair was bound up in a complicated style on the crown of her head. The silver accents in her blue gown matched the color almost exactly. She was still one of the loveliest women in Society and her beauty was only matched by her wit and intellect.

  Grant, like all his younger siblings, adored her. But the expression on her face was one he dreaded more than anything he’d ever encountered on a case.

  Motherly concern.

  “I’m sorry,” he said with a forced smile she would see right through. “I must have been woolgathering.”

  “Yes, you were.” She slipped a hand through the crook of his elbow and squeezed gently. “I believe I said your name three times. You seem very distant tonight. Is there anything you’d like to discuss? Something troubling you?”

  He shook his head. “Of course not. I am the epitome of health and well-being.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Grant—”

  He looked down at her. “Mother, I am very well, I promise you.”

  She didn’t look convinced, but before she could start in on a lecture, her gaze slipped away from his face toward the doorway in the distance and her eyes lit up. Grant knew what she saw even before he turned to look.

  Emily Redgrave had arrived.

  “Oh look, there is Lady Allington!” his mother gushed, confirming his intuition.

  Grant pivoted in the direction his mother was motioning. As he had expected, Emily was there, standing just inside the ballroom entryway. Despite himself, he caught his breath.

  He had first met Emily over six years ago, introduced to her at a stuffy dinner party that had dragged on for hours. They had been seated across from one another and though they hadn’t spoken directly to each other much over the wide table, he had been enchanted. How could one not be by her sparkling wit and quiet sensuality?

  Of course, nothing had come of it. She was married then and he was only just beginning his life with the War Department. He had pushed away the attraction he felt for her that night, dismissed it. Over the years, he had sometimes felt it return, fluttering in the back of his mind, when he saw her at parties or balls.

  But he ignored it, just as he ignored any attraction he felt to every ‘“suitable” woman, because of the dangerous life he led. Even then, he had known what kind of damage the life he’d chosen to live could do. He only wished he’d kept every woman at arm’s length. If he had…

  No, he couldn’t think of that. He had this case to consider and he was no longer able to pretend Emily wasn’t nearby. So he took a good, long look.

  And the attraction roared to life, as though he’d never muted it at all.

  She was, quite possibly, the most beautiful woman he’d ever set eyes on in his life.

  Her blond hair caught the light like waves of spun gold. Those bright blue eyes watched everything and everyone like she was on the hunt. She had lost a little weight since he last saw her, which made sense after her long illness. Where she had been more athletic before, she was now slender…almost fragile.

  He had the strangest, strongest urge to protect her. Of course, that was likely because of his case. She was reportedly in danger, after all. Of course he would want to ensure her safety. That was his assignment.

  It was his other reaction to Emily that was more unwanted.

  Desire. Potent and powerful. Guttural and purely visceral. He wanted to walk across that room, back Emily into a dark corner, and press his body against hers until there was no space between them. He wanted to fill himself with the scent of her hair. Taste her skin until he was drunk on its flavor.

  All those thoughts rushed through his head, strange and gripping reactions that made his knees quake like some green boy. Thankfully, those thoughts were interrupted when his mother spoke again.

  “You asked for her to be invited especially, didn’t you?”

  Grant shook away the sudden desire Emily inspired before he met his mother’s eyes. “Don’t start your matchmaking, Mama. I didn’t ask for Lady Allington to be invited in order for you to throw me into her arms or vice versa.”

  Though the idea was not entirely unpleasant, despite the fact that such an encounter was doomed to be brief.

  His mother’s lips tilted in a smile. “I would do no such thing, Grant!” Then she placed a hand on his back and gave him a shove toward Emily. “But since you invited her, you should go say hello. Before Andrew Horne reaches her first.”

  Grant shot his gaze to the left to see Andrew Horne, a well-known rake, eyeing Emily with undeniable interest in his eyes. Grant clenched his fists. If Horne got hold of her, Grant would have no chance to speak to her all night. And he needed to do that in order to feel out the situation. Get to know the woman in order to uncover more about the kind of man who would stalk her.

  “Excuse me, Mother,” he said, giving her a brief glance. “I shall see you later, I’m sure.”

  He heard her murmur some kind of reply, but he was already off into the crowd, his focus now entirely on his case. Entirely on Emily as he weaved around party guests and past servants with their trays.

  She looked up as he moved ever closer, her stare focusing on him as if she had sensed he was coming to her. For a brief moment, her expression changed. Her face flashed an emotion he didn’t recognize, yet it seemed familiar. But then it was gone, replaced by a bland yet friendly smile as he drew up beside her.

  “Good evening, Lady Allington,” he said with a short bow. “I’m so pleased you could join us this evening. My mother was otherwise engaged, and I was sent to welcome you.”

  Emily’s lips parted in a wider smile, but Grant was still struck by something…odd. Like she was holding back. Not in the coquettish way of some women, but something more. Something deeper.

  Why, he couldn’t g
uess. Certainly, they shared no relationship where she would feel the need to keep secrets from him.

  At least, no relationship she was aware of.

  “Thank you, Lord Westfield, I appreciate your kindness. And I look forward to saying hello to your mother to thank her for the invitation.”

  Despite her polite words, her entire demeanor was still false. Grant tilted his head. Damn, he wished he’d paid closer attention to Emily in the past, rather than trying to pretend she didn’t exist. Then he would know if she’d always kept herself at such a distance, or if it was a new habit.

  “This is the first event you have attended since your illness, isn’t it?” Grant asked.

  Emily’s eyes widened and another flash of powerful emotion passed over her face and then was gone. “Yes,” she said softly, a slight break to her voice. “That is—”

  She didn’t finish the sentence, instead something over Grant’s shoulder seemed to catch her attention. Her eyes narrowed. He glanced behind him to find Andrew Horne and one of his cronies still advancing toward them.

  “Damn,” she breathed. “This is going to sound presumptuous and terrible, but I just don’t care. Dance with me. Now.”

  Grant drew back, staring at her in disbelief. Few women were so utterly forward. “I—I beg your pardon?”

  She met his stare with a hard one of her own. “Please. Dance with me.”

  Grant shrugged. And here he thought he would be forced to work around the subject of getting closer to Emily. Instead, she was practically launching herself into his arms.

  And he found that idea was appealing, for more reasons than just those related to his case.

  Grant’s hand cupped hers, and Emily couldn’t help but stare. His skin was at least a shade darker and his hand dwarfed hers as he enveloped it in warmth. Again, her mind revolted against the idea that this man, of all men, needed her protection.