It also brought him to his senses. He wanted her, desperately, but now was neither the time nor the place. Her maid was a tyrannical watchdog by all accounts, and Bowker would be hard-pressed to keep her occupied for much longer. Besides, he had yet to confirm her story. With patent reluctance, he broke the kiss and removed his hands from her rear.
“Debt paid in full,” she said, her eyes as hazy as her voice.
Rob chuckled. “For now.”
“When shall we leave for Denby?”
“Tuesday morning.”
“Why wait for so long?”
“I don’t know about you, but I have a yen for a decent game of chess. Besides, it would be impolite to leave any sooner when Charles has gone to so much trouble to get so many good players here.”
“Yes, but my brother?”
“Will come to no harm as long as you appear to be cooperating. Get word to Maynard now and meet him before dinner. I’ll be there to ensure your safety.”
“Oh no, he mustn’t see you. If he even suspects—”
“He won’t see me, but you can’t meet him alone.” And I also want to listen to your discourse. It might help me to decide if I believe you.
“You are not my guardian, my lord.”
“You’re quite wrong about that. You’re now my responsibility.”
She blinked. “Why?”
Did she really need to ask? “Because I choose to make you so.”
“All right. I’ll meet Maynard tonight, we’ll play chess all day tomorrow, and then I’ll arrange a carriage to take me to your brother’s estate.”
“That won’t be necessary. You’ll travel with me.”
“Your chaise only has room for two.”
“Bowker and your maid can follow behind. I’ll arrange transportation for them.”
“Ought we to travel alone? People will notice.”
“Absolutely we should. We’re playing a part, remember. Maynard will be watching and we must make him believe we’re enamoured with one another.”
She had recovered some of her colour and flashed such a wicked smile that Rob was obliged to suppress a groan. It appeared that she was now more than ready to play him at his own game.
A game that had absolutely nothing to do with chess.
“I’ve been told I’m a fine actress, my lord.”
He caught a stray curl and tucked it behind her ear. “What is it you’re not telling me?” He examined her face closely and frowned. “Is there something else?”
“Why would you ask me such a thing?” she asked after a telling pause.
“You’re chattering, and you don’t strike me as the type to fill silences with unnecessary words, unless they’re a cover for something else.”
“I don’t know what you think you see, but—”
A discreet knock sounded at the door. Rob moved away from the contessa, who resumed her seat. Damn Bowker’s timing. The shadow hadn’t completely lifted from her eyes. He was sure there was something else on her mind, and the opportunity to probe was now lost to him.
“Come in.”
Bowker poked his head round the door, looking thoroughly out of sorts. “Sorry to interrupt, my lord, but the contessa’s maid, she’s—”
“Anxious to know if I’m in one piece, I dare say. Perhaps I should reassure her.” She stood and turned towards Rob. “Thank you.” She paused, her eyes lingering on his face for a moment longer than was strictly necessary. “For everything.”
Before he could respond, she turned and left the room.
* * *
“I have no idea what made him change his mind.” Electra faced Maynard, doing all she could to look as baffled as she sounded. “It’s not as though I can ask, is it?”
“I don’t like it.” Maynard frowned. “You hadn’t better be trying to cut a sham on me. You know what will happen if you are.”
“Wait until tomorrow if you doubt my word. Mr. Turner won’t arrive. Just be thankful I’ve gained Lord Robert’s trust sufficiently for him to tell me why he has to leave.”
“Wonder how you managed that?” He chuckled crudely, raking her body with his eyes. “That husband of yours never did appreciate you. Now had it been me—”
She sent him a withering look. “It would never have been you.”
“Just remember who you’re dealing with.” His voice developed a hard edge. “If I decide I’ve earned myself a little bonus, no one will be the wiser. And you’d do anything for the sake of your little brother, wouldn’t you, contessa? He’s your weakness and we all know it.”
Electra suppressed a shudder. “I have accepted an invitation to the marquess’s estate.”
Maynard glowered at her, his expression calculating. “Then why didn’t you say so at once?”
“You didn’t give me a chance.” Electra spoke begrudgingly. “I’ll be there when Mr. Turner arrives and will do my best to acquire the information you require.”
“Just see that you do.”
“I have one condition of my own.”
“I already told you, you can’t—”
“I wish to see Vincenzo again.”
“It isn’t possible. Not here.”
Electra’s heart seized. Why wasn’t it possible? She refused to think the worst. Maynard wasn’t that big a fool. She chose instead to believe that Maynard wouldn’t risk bringing Vincenzo to the grounds of Roker Park for fear that he might kick up a fuss and get himself noticed. A disturbance on a busy street such as the one they’d met on in London would have gone unnoticed, but on a private estate with grounds manned by an army of inquisitive gardeners it would be a very different matter.
“Then I wish to see him in Denby.”
“Impossible!”
“If I don’t, then I shall assume he’s no longer alive. In which case, there’s no reason for me to help you.”
“You’ve changed.” Maynard screwed up his eyes and peered at her suspiciously. “What’s different about you?”
“What do you care?”
“No, tell me—”
“Just make sure Vincenzo’s in Denby when I get there. If I see him, only then will you get your report.” She took considerable satisfaction in turning on her heel and walking away from Maynard. She rounded a corner, shaking with delayed reaction, and felt the comfort of a large hand coming to rest on the small of her back.
“Well done, cara mia.” Lord Robert removed his hand and offered her his arm. “That must have been difficult.”
“I despise that man,” Electra said violently. “I despise everything about him, and the people he works for.”
“Shush, it’ll be all right.”
“No,” she said bleakly. “Nothing will ever be completely right ever again.”
“Whatever do you mean? I wasn’t close enough to hear much of what he said to you.” Lord Robert scowled. “Did he threaten you in any way? Did he hurt you? As God is my witness, if he laid so much as one finger on you—”
“No, nothing like that. It’s all so unpleasant, that’s all. How can I ever go home after this and feel completely safe?”
“Don’t distress yourself.” Lord Robert’s voice was diffident, as though he wanted to believe her but was still reserving judgement. Well, if Maynard brought Vincenzo to Denby then he would know she was speaking the truth. Lord Robert knowing she wasn’t a naturally bad person was very important to her. “You’re no longer fighting Maynard alone.”
She lifted her face to his, probably looking as confused as she felt. “I still don’t know what I’ve done to deserve your support.”
“We Forsters don’t like to see injustice go unavenged.”
Chapter Ten
Rob and Charles stood to one side of the drawing room.
“I’m sorry if leaving and taking the contessa with me ruins your plans but there’s no help for it, I’m afraid. Duty calls and Hal won’t be best pleased if I don’t toe the family line.”
“You realise, I suppose, that you’ve set Sophia’s mind racing with all sorts of possibilities,” Charles drawled. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly innocent reason for your spiriting the contessa away, but Sophia prefers to draw her own conclusions.”
Rob remained perfectly composed. “Far be it for me to ruin her pleasure.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what’s really going on?”
Rob shrugged an apology. “I would if I could.”
“If Hal’s behind it all then I suppose it’s some great secret of state.”
“So he’d have me believe.”
As he chatted with Charles, Rob kept a weather eye on the contessa, who was conversing with guests on the other side of the room. She was wearing bright yellow this evening, making it seem as though she’d brought the sunshine inside with her. Italian designs differed from British fashions in subtle ways. Wider sleeves, the heavy use of brocade and fuller skirts set her apart from the other ladies. So did her flair and the poise with which she carried off her individual style. Rob could have watched her all night.
There was a recklessness about her this evening that suited her mood to the colour of her gown. She barely acknowledged his presence but Rob suspected the relief she felt at having shared her secrets with a sympathetic listener was the reason for the difference in her.
If she had actually shared them all. Rob suspected that she was still holding something back and still couldn’t decide if what she actually had told him was the truth. He wanted to believe her. She’d seemed sincere but one or two aspects of her account concerned him. Why would the kidnappers risk letting her see her brother in a public place where they could have no proper control over his reactions there? The explanation of the dagger being held to Falzone’s side sounded farfetched. More fundamentally still, why would Gravina go to such lengths to see the contents of Hal’s report? Whoever gained early intelligence of his proposals would steal a march on his competitors and make a deal of money as a consequence. But to resort to kidnapping, coercion, chasing across the country in a half-baked attempt to steal the report and risk being exposed...Rob shook his head.
Why take such a huge risk?
“Since you’ve wrecked our chess confrontation by leaving early,” Charles said, recalling Rob’s attention to their conversation, “my wife has taken pity on me and amended her plans for this evening.”
“I wouldn’t have her inconvenienced.”
“Fortunately for you she has a romantic disposition.”
Rob shot his friend a forbidding glare but Charles merely laughed.
“There are five chess players here, and after dinner Sophia will excuse us so we can play one another without interruption.”
“Our absence will make a dent in Sophia’s numbers.”
“Her desire to see you romantically entangled and my eagerness to pit my wits against the contessa override such considerations, apparently.” Charles permitted his amusement to show, presumably because Rob was again scowling. “Having a matchmaker for a wife can sometimes work to one’s advantage.”
“Your desire to play against the contessa, I can well understand. But I would advise Sophia against reading too much into my business with that lady.”
“You tell her that, if you dare.” Charles indulged in a theatrical shudder. “I don’t have the courage.”
Before Rob could formulate a response, dinner was announced. Rob stood back, watching another man escort the contessa in. It was better that way. He couldn’t allow the gravitational pull he felt towards her to influence his actions until he was sure she was an innocent bishop’s pawn in a dangerous game of winner take all.
The gentlemen didn’t linger over their port. When the chess players entered Charles’s study they found the contessa already there, reading the titles of some of the books lining the walls. She glanced at them all, but Rob was the sole beneficiary of her dazzling smile and he returned it, powerless to help himself. When Rob found the strength to look away from her, he was confronted by Charles’s sardonic smile.
“Ah, contessa,” Charles said. “Our apologies for keeping you waiting.”
“You didn’t, Lord Billingham. It’s simply that I’m eager to get started.”
“Then let’s not waste any more precious time.” He turned to include the rest of the gentlemen in their conversation. “Since we’re an uneven number, I suggest we each play one another once, with strict time limits, naturally. One of us will be obliged to sit out for each round.”
Several voices confirmed that Charles’s suggestion was satisfactory. Rob sat across from his male opponent, a man he’d never lost to before. That situation almost changed since he was unable to concentrate. The aroma of gardenias, the rustle of the contessa’s gown whenever she moved, the sound of her low voice when she spoke to her opponent—all those factors combined to distract him.
An air of expectancy hovered between them, even though they were on opposite sides of the room and had scarce exchanged a dozen words in private for the entire evening. Even though Rob was doing his damnedest to keep her at arm’s length.
“Well done, Forster,” his opponent said when Rob narrowly scraped a win that should have been far more definitive. “I almost had you there. That wing gambit of yours saved the day.”
“I was lucky,” he replied, shaking the man’s outstretched hand.
Rob’s gaze roved towards the contessa’s table. Her game had just concluded and she had won. She acknowledged his glance with a cool inclination of her beautiful head, setting her curls dancing, but didn’t speak to him.
Rob played Charles next. He would need to be at his very best to win but given his distracted state, his expectations weren’t high. Charles was a more proficient player than Rob but the gap had narrowed over the past year and normally Rob relished the opportunity to play against him. Tonight his concentration was shot to pieces and Charles came out an easy winner.
“Well played,” Rob said, shaking Charles’s hand.
“Other things on your mind?” Charles asked in an undertone, his glance sliding towards the contessa.
“Matters of state.”
“Ah, is that what they’re calling it this week?”
Rob frowned at Charles as he moved on to play the contessa. It was Rob’s turn to sit out. He situated himself in view of their table, but not so close that he would distract either of them. The contessa appeared to be in control of herself and fought an intelligent battle. Charles only managed to beat her at the last moment before time ran out.
“Congratulations, Lord Billingham,” she said.
“You played a tight game, contessa. You almost had me there.”
“Hardly, but I appreciate the compliment.”
Rob was in action again. He forced himself to concentrate and won his next game with comparative ease. For some reason, which probably had little to do with coincidence, Charles had arranged it so that the contessa would be his final opponent. Each of them had won all their games, with the exception of those played against Charles. Charles had completed his schedule and settled back to watch both tables, an indolent smile on his lips. Rob wanted to tell him that he was quite wrong, that he, Rob, hadn’t—couldn’t—fix his interest on the contessa.
But that didn’t alter the fact that she was the most interesting woman he’d met in many a long day. Had things been different—if he didn’t still harbour misgivings about her—then Charles’s suspicions wouldn’t be far off the mark. Rob was finding it difficult to fight against the attraction he felt towards Electra Falzone. Damn it, he even felt pangs of jealousy when other men held her attention for too long.
“Shall we
make it more interesting, Lord Robert?”
“What do you have in mind, ma’am?”
There was a devilish light in her eye when she met his gaze. “What would you suggest?”
Charles, who overheard her, was inflicted with a bout of coughing.
“Perhaps the same terms as previously?”
She was asking him for another kiss? “You ought to know that I never do the same thing in the same way twice in succession.”
“If you have an alternative suggestion, I’m ready to hear it. But don’t imagine I’m foolish enough to enter into a wager without first knowing its particulars.”
He leaned a fraction closer to her. “Do you never yearn to be impulsive?”
“Only those with the freedom to make their own choices can afford to be impulsive.”
He met her gaze. “And you cannot?”
“You know I can’t,” she replied softly.
She was flirting with him and he was encouraging her. Damn it, this wouldn’t do. “Go with your instincts and have faith in your ability as a player,” he said, tearing his gaze away from her face. “It’s safe to relax your guard in this room.”
She shook her head, the candlelight flickering across her face casting it in light and then shadow. “I’m not sure I know how to.”
Rob laughed. “I hesitate to disagree with a lady, but—”
“However, since I intend to win our game, I have nothing to fear.”
“If you’re afraid of losing, it will sharpen your wits.”
She sent him a scorching look. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Then you’re being exceedingly foolish. It doesn’t do to ever underestimate one’s opponent. However, I’ll oblige you by sticking to the terms of our original wager, if that makes you happy.”
“Thank you.”
“I hate to interrupt,” Charles said, “but the clock’s ticking.”
“Your move, m’lady.”
Rob leaned back in his chair as the contessa moved a pawn and stopped her clock. The Sicilian defence again? He countered her move, already sensing a trap. She darted frequent glances his way as they moved their pieces in taut silence. She was up to something, something that was immediately obvious to Charles if his amused smile was anything to go by.
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