Finessing the Contessa

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Finessing the Contessa Page 8

by Wendy Soliman


  “Something like that,” Lord Robert said, still looking completely unruffled.

  “This is a remarkable chess set, Lord Billingham,” Electra remarked. “But unfortunately that didn’t help me much.”

  “Rob beat you, did he? Don’t worry, my dear, he beats most people. Even me, on occasion.”

  “It was a close-run thing,” Lord Robert said.

  It was no such thing but she appreciated his gallantry.

  “You’ll get your opportunity for revenge soon enough.” Lord Billingham turned to leave the room. “I was sent to tell you that the fireworks are about to start, if you’re interested.”

  Wrong, Lord Billingham. For me the sparks ignited the moment I stepped into this room with Lord Robert.

  “Shall we?” Lord Robert rose fluidly to his feet and proffered his hand, which she had no choice but to take. “We can watch the display from the privacy of the terrace here, if you’d prefer.”

  “Thank you, yes.”

  Electra walked beside him towards the open door, wondering when he planned to claim his prize. She chanced a glance at his profile but could gain no clues from his demeanour. As always, he appeared perfectly relaxed, which was a great deal more than could be said for her. Damn him to hell and back, he’d already defeated her on the chessboard but was still playing with her. She felt out of her depth, and if she didn’t need to get close to him quite so badly she would make her excuses and flee.

  She absolutely would.

  But she did need to get close to him. She needed to do so very urgently. Her plans to slip into his room this evening had been scuppered when he stood guard over her and didn’t let her out of his sight. Time was running out and she needed to act. Lord Robert acted as though he might be attracted to her, although he was good at hiding his true feelings. But why else would he suggest watching the fireworks privately from this location?

  Perhaps she could play on that attraction, persuade him that any suspicions he harboured about her motives were misplaced. She was a widow and so entering into a flirtation with Lord Robert and winning his trust wouldn’t be frowned upon, would it? They’d already spent a long period of time alone in this room. Presumably others besides Lord Billingham had noticed.

  She didn’t enter into casual flirtations and had never been remotely tempted to do so. Still, desperate times called for inventive solutions and she had no other choice available to her. If she eased Lord Robert’s mind about her true purpose in coming here, then obtaining the report ought to be comparatively easy.

  “The display is about to start, I think.” His voice snapped her out of her reverie. A colourful scatter of shooting sparks lit up the sky.

  “Ah, so it is.” Electra stood a little closer to him, ensuring that her breast rubbed against his upper arm. He must have noticed—her breasts were difficult to ignore—but he didn’t react. Lord, he was going to make her work for this.

  “Are you cold, signora?” he asked in a concerned tone when she leaned a little closer. “Can I fetch you a shawl?”

  “Thank you, but I’m not in the least cold.”

  “Then you must be wondering when I intend to claim my prize.”

  The arrogance of the man! “Not in the least. I was merely watching the display. And as to your prize, if you don’t have the stomach for it, I will gladly release you.”

  His body tensed but it was too dark for her to read his expression. “Oh no you won’t! I fully intend to claim my kiss, but not quite yet.”

  Then when, damn you! “Your timing is of no...oh, molto bello!” She stared at the sky, smiling with delight as the shower of diverse colours heralding the finale exploded above their heads.

  But when Electra glanced at him, his gaze was fastened not on the display, but on her profile. Emboldened, she reached up and brushed the tips of her fingers across his lips.

  “Come,” he said brusquely. “We ought to rejoin the others.”

  Chapter Eight

  As soon as they returned to the drawing room, Rob and the contessa parted company. He stood aside as she was swallowed up by a gaggle of guests, hoping their inconsequential chatter would afford her the opportunity to regain her composure. He’d embarrassed her by rebuffing her advances.

  He’d stretched his duty to Hal to the limit by offering her ample opportunities to at least hint at her true motivation. She hadn’t done so and Rob knew little more about his beautiful adversary now than he had before they played their games in Charles’s library. Damn it, wanting her not to be spying of her own volition wasn’t the same as proving she was being coerced.

  If he managed to absolve her from blame, only then would he pursue the contessa in earnest. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before he got to the truth. If he was wrong about her and she was involved in espionage because she chose to be, then he’d get over his disappointment.

  Somehow.

  “The papers are still there,” Bowker said when Rob returned to his room.

  “They would be because she didn’t get an opportunity to slip away.”

  “What happened then?”

  “A change of plan.” Rob shrugged out of his coat and threw it aside. “I want to be here when she comes for the papers. I need to know why she’s doing this.”

  “That ain’t what you agreed with the marquess.”

  “The marquess isn’t here.”

  Bowker smothered an oath. “Okay then, what’s the new plan?”

  “Spread word below stairs that you and I will be away from Roker Park tomorrow morning. Make sure the contessa’s maid hears you.”

  “Where are we supposed to be going?”

  “To visit my good friend Bravistock on the other side of the village. He happens to be abroad but I doubt anyone here will be aware of that.”

  “I presume you’ll be seen entering the carriage, and I’ll drop you off again near the gatehouse.”

  “We’ll tool round the village and re-enter the estate by the back road. No one will see us return to this chamber if we use the back stairs. Then I shall be here to receive the contessa when she comes calling.”

  Bowker chuckled. “That ought to be interesting.”

  “I suspect that someone’s manipulating her—”

  “And if you’re wrong? If she’s doing this because she wants to?”

  Rob flexed his jaw. “Then she will feel the full force of the law.”

  “Sure about that? It ain’t just her looks that’s got you convinced she’s innocent? Not all spies are ugly as sin, you know.”

  “Looks, Bowker?” Rob chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head. “I can’t say as I’ve noticed her appearance.”

  Bowker pulled a doomed face. “No, of course you haven’t.”

  * * *

  “Ah, they’re away.”

  Electra felt considerable satisfaction as she observed Lord Robert climb into Lord Billingham’s curricle, take the ribbons from his man and drive away. She’d spent a sleepless night alternating between hot embarrassment and abject desperation. The embarrassment surfaced whenever she thought about Lord Robert’s rejection. She’d been absolutely convinced he was attracted to her. How could she have got it so wrong? She scowled—she’d behaved no better than the young ladies who plagued his every step, even if she did have a very good reason to emulate their example. He must have understood what she was offering, although he couldn’t possibly know why, could he?

  Her uncertainty on that point had added to her restless state. Desperation surfaced because she’d been unable to think of any way to get her hands on the report before Turner’s arrival the following day. Lord Robert’s sudden decision to visit a friend—probably so he could avoid an embarrassing repeat of her attentions—was nothing short of a godsend. An opportunity she couldn’t afford to ignore, no matter what o
bjections her conscience chose to put up.

  “You’d best let me come with you, m’lady,” Luci said. “Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”

  “No, I need you to stand guard. If you let me know when the servants have tidied his room and attended to his fire, then I’ll conduct my search. If anyone should approach while I’m in the room, you must somehow prevent them from entering, or at the very least give me warning so I have time to hide.”

  “It wouldn’t do to be discovered in a gentleman’s chamber.” Luci pursed her lips as she stated the obvious. “Especially one who’s as full of himself as Lord Robert.”

  “You don’t like him?” It shouldn’t matter to Electra one way or the other what her maid thought of him, but somehow it did.

  “I’ve never spoken to him. He just seems, well...very self-assured.”

  Electra shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s rich, titled, handsome and, unlike me, free to do whatever he pleases.”

  “And dangerous. That’s more important than any of his other characteristics.”

  “He represents no danger to me.” Electra spoke with more confidence than she felt. If she said it often enough, she might actually start to believe it. “He doesn’t know what I really want from him.”

  Electra squirmed beneath Luci’s discerning gaze. She might be able to gull the entire world if she put her mind to it, but Luci knew her too well to be deceived. Luci watched her like a hawk and would have recognised her attraction to Lord Robert before she herself was even aware of it. Even so, she wasn’t prepared to articulate her tangled feelings, mainly because she didn’t know what to make of them herself.

  For something to do, Electra settled in the window embrasure with her embroidery on her lap, but didn’t lift the needle. She stared out of the window, barely seeing the beautiful gardens or the elegant guests strolling the length of the manicured lawns. It felt as though time stood still as she remained in her position and forced her mind to go blank. She’d wasted far too many hours thinking about Lord Robert, and mentally recited Greek poetry instead. It was a subject guaranteed to dull her senses and very possibly send her to sleep.

  An hour eventually ticked past. Her nerves stretched to breaking point, Electra gratefully abandoned Plato and put aside her neglected embroidery when Luci returned to inform her the coast was clear.

  “Come along, Luci.” Electra stood and shook out her skirts. “Let’s get this over and done with.”

  Lord Robert and Electra had been given decent-sized rooms in the main part of the house. That was both convenient and awkward. It was convenient because it gave her a legitimate reason to be in that part of the house if she chanced upon another guest, but awkward since there were more servants scurrying about attending to the best chambers. Electra and Luci observed Lord Robert’s door for several minutes from the safety of an alcove until they saw no more comings or goings to concern them. The servants had obviously attended to their duties and moved on.

  “Right, Luci. Remain here and keep a close watch. Talk very loudly if anyone should approach the room.”

  “Be as quick as you can, m’lady. I hate to think of you putting yourself in unnecessary danger.”

  The only sort of danger she was likely to encounter came with thick, curling blond hair, a lithe, athletic body and an ironic, not entirely civilized light in his penetrating hazel eyes. Fortunately, even someone as accomplished as Lord Robert couldn’t contrive to be in two places at once. She was safe from him, for the time being, at least.

  Electra’s heart thumped against her ribcage and her hand shook as she turned the door handle and slipped into the room. It was much the same as hers, with a sitting area and adjoining bedroom. She moved swiftly into the bedroom first, suspecting the papers wouldn’t be anywhere as obvious as the desk in the sitting room. The aroma of sandalwood soap that lingered in the air reminded her so vividly of the room’s occupant that her heart stopped thumping and lurched instead. She glanced at the meticulously tidy bed, trying to imagine him occupying it, wondering if he’d slept any better than she had.

  He probably went to bed and straight to sleep. Unlike me, he had nothing to keep him awake.

  Electra turned in a circle, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Well, what else had she expected? He would hardly have left the papers in open view. Anything he had left lying about would have been tidied away by Lord Billingham’s efficient servants.

  “Concentrate,” she muttered. “Where would he have put it?”

  She searched his clothing with meticulous care, putting everything back exactly as she’d found it. She discovered nothing other than that his coats were made by Weston’s and that his hats came from Locks. No big surprises there.

  With a frustrated sigh she entered the sitting room and approached the desk. As she did so, something out of place caused her to stand stock-still, her heart beating erratically. Yea gods, someone was in the room! The tip of a booted foot was evident in front of a winged chair that faced the window and, now that she thought about it, she could hear the sound of someone’s breathing other than her own. She didn’t need its owner to turn round for her to know whom the boot belonged to.

  Even so, Lord Robert did turn and merely raised an enquiring brow.

  All the fight drained out of her and she found it almost impossible to remain standing, so violently were her knees shaking. “You were expecting me?” she asked in a defeated tone.

  He stood and crossed the room to join her, all lithe muscle and graceful coordination, but said nothing. The silence was worse condemnation than the disappointment in his eye. She half expected him to make some flippant comment about her desperation to pay her debt for losing at chess. Instead he maintained a silence that sucked the atmosphere dry, accounting for her inability to get enough air into her lungs when he paused just in front of her, watching her with unnerving stillness.

  “You weren’t supposed to be here.” Electra gulped, wondering how she could have said something quite so inane at such a time, and fell silent again.

  “To answer your original question, yes, I was expecting you, which is why I made it so easy for you.” His candid appraisal was unsettling. She would like him to look upon her with admiration, or at the very least, with respect. Instead his glance was scathing, as though he considered her to be a common thief. “Have the goodness to explain how I can be of service to you, signora.”

  His clipped, impersonal tone was her undoing and Electra fell into the nearest chair. Close to tears of defeat, she somehow managed to hold them back.

  “There’s nothing you can do for me, Lord Robert,” she said with a heavy sigh.

  He crouched in front of her, his severe expression giving way to one of mild concern.

  “Tell me about it.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “If you’re here against your will, then I’ll do all I can to help you.”

  “No one can help me.”

  “That’s rather insulting.”

  She lifted her head and was almost overwhelmed by the sharp intensity of his gaze. “How did you know?”

  “That you wish to steal a report from me?”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  “Suffice it to say that I guessed. Your nationality, the sensitive nature of the report relating directly to your country’s future...” He shrugged. “Once I accepted that you didn’t visit my room in that inn merely to be kissed, I concluded there had to be another reason.” He pinioned her with a smouldering look. “The reason was obvious. It’s the why that I fail to comprehend.”

  “You said it yourself.” She laced her fingers together and addressed the comment to her feet. “I’m a patriot.”

  “I’m sure you are, but patriotism isn’t your reason for trying to steal that report.” He paused, presumably to give her the opportunity to
speak, but she couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make matters worse. “Someone forced you into it?”

  She gasped. “What makes you say that?”

  “Am I right?”

  “Yes,” she said slowly, “but I can’t tell you why.”

  Lord Robert stood, walked across the room and leaned one elbow on the mantelpiece. When he turned to face her, she could have sworn he looked relieved.

  “I had hoped you would trust me enough to volunteer that information before now,” he said. “I created ample opportunities for you to do so.”

  “I’m sorry, but I simply can’t risk telling anyone.”

  “It seems to me that you have little choice. You won’t acquire that report and presumably have reason to fear whoever controls you as a consequence.”

  He said nothing more, giving her time to dwell upon his words. He was right, of course. She had more to fear from Maynard than she did from Lord Robert. Considerably more.

  “It’s a long story,” she said. “My maid’s in the corridor and will be getting anxious.”

  “No she isn’t.”

  Her head shot up. “What do you mean? What have you done with Luci?”

  “Don’t worry, she’s perfectly safe.”

  His reassuring smile filled her with regret for what might have been. She’d disgusted him by working against his government and yet he still seemed willing to help her. Even so, any hopes she’d entertained of winning his admiration were now consigned to history. Lord Robert was a patriotic Englishman and would never condone what she’d tried to do, even if he knew the real reason for her actions.

  “Your maid’s in the kitchen drinking tea with my man,” he said.

  Electra flashed a brief smile. “You laid your trap well.”

  “You could have saved me the trouble if you’d followed up on the openings I offered you last night and trusted me.”

  “Yes, I suppose I could have.” She acknowledged the mild rebuke with an inclination of her head. “But since my husband died, life has taught me to trust few people.”

 

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