Regency Spymasters 01 - Spy Fall

by Diana Quincy

  “Aldridge.”

  It struck her hard that perhaps she’d underestimated Cosmo Dunsmore. “I’d expect nothing less.”

  “Really?” He rested his chin on her shoulder, his ebony eyes fixed on her face. “I’ve never been much use to anyone before, and you do seem frightfully skilled at what you do. Whatever it is.”

  “Then I suggest you continue with a life of useless indulgence and leave me to my task,” she retorted. “It would suit my purposes.”

  He barked a harsh laugh. “I’m certain it would. No, I think I will keep my eyes on you.” His hand traveled up her waist, brushing the sides of her breasts. “And my hands as well.”

  “Cochon.” But the word came out sounding more like an endearment than an insult. “How did you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “How did you find me in here?”

  “Not just here. I also watched you search the study.”

  “You are lying.” Shocked, she uttered the words almost reflexively. No one had ever caught her before, but intuitively she knew he told the truth. It explained why she’d felt eyes on her when she’d searched the house.

  “I most certainly am not. Let’s see if I remember correctly.” He closed his eyes for a moment, the dark fringe of his lashes casting shadows across the firm arch of his cheeks. “You began with the desk, moved to the chess table, and then made quick work of the bookshelves.” A sick feeling settled in her stomach. “Don’t look so defeated, Angel. It doesn’t become you.”

  She stiffened. “It would take more than a brandy-soaked connard to defeat me.”

  He grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

  “Tell me how you did it.”

  He rubbed his chin with the back of his bent fingers as he considered her demand. “If I do, I must ask for a boon.”

  “What sort of boon?”

  “Don’t look so alarmed.” He wrapped a loose strand of her hair around his finger, which made her scalp tingle in a pleasurable way. “Just a kiss. No, two. Three. Three kisses and I shall confess all.”

  Tilting her head in consideration, she narrowed one eye at him. “Three kisses. That is all?”

  “Yes.” Warmth filled his eyes. He brushed one finger over her lips. “One here.” His finger trailed down her chin, past her neck, and settled lightly on the exposed mound of her left breast. “One here.” He dragged his finger lightly to her right breast. “And one here.”

  A thrill whipped through her body. He was wicked. And so, apparently, was she, considering how anxious she was to feel his lips on her skin. “Very well,” she said as if it were no matter to her. “Have done with it.”

  Chuckling, he cupped her chin and tilted her face toward him. He took his time settling pliant lips against hers, fitting them to her mouth. He licked her bottom lip and she opened her lips, shamelessly willing to take him in. He moved in her mouth with deep luxurious movements, tasting her tongue, stroking the roof of her mouth and the insides of her cheeks with obvious expertise that swept her body into the sublime delight of it.

  The intimacy went on and on, long dazzling kisses and short sweet ones, until her insides were warm and fuzzy and the air had left her lungs. Her legs floated as if she were parachuting.

  He broke the kiss on a groan, his breath coming in short gulps. “You are a dangerous woman, Mari Lamarre.”

  She had one hand up against his chest and could feel his heart pounding beneath his clothes. His eyes moved to her bosom, which swelled under her bodice as she fought to catch her breath. Gripping her waist, he turned her so that she straddled him. His hand tugged at the bodice and freed her breasts. Not exactly part of their agreement, but she had no desire to protest. He watched her breasts tumble out like pale, eager kittens let loose to play. “Glorious.” Cupping them with a warm gentle touch, he considered them for a moment. “You are perfection.”

  “No doubt you have seen many.” She forced a careless tone, even though her feminine flesh frolicked under his touch, the pink tips awakening while he watched.

  His voice roughened with desire. “None like this. Soft, full, and so quick to respond.” The pads of his thumbs feathered over each engorged tip. “I do believe these are the only parts of you that are biddable.”

  Not quite. Her entire body seemed anxious to do his bidding, given the way the place between her thighs also pulsed for attention. She battled the urge to arch her back and soothe her throbbing against the jutting hardness behind the placket of his breeches. “Do get on with it,” she forced out. “I agreed to a kiss, not to be mauled and ogled.”

  “Impatient, are you?” His mouth curved into a sensual smile. “Very well. It’s never a good idea to keep a lady waiting.”

  Never mind that she was no lady and they both knew it. A lady wouldn’t straddle a rakehell with her breasts exposed and practically beg him to ravish her. Her thoughts snagged when he lowered his head to her left breast; his breath bathed the plump tip in a warm, humid mist. He settled his mouth over it, catching the sensitive flesh between slightly parted lips in a soft caress of a kiss—and with a fleeting touch of his tongue.

  The sensual impact jolted through her and an involuntary moan escaped her lips. Silently, she pleaded with him to take her all the way into his mouth, to use his tongue and teeth to ease the need he’d whipped up inside her. Instead, he withdrew his lips, leaving her wanting, but then he soothed her again when his lips caught her right breast in the same slightly moist, unbelievably erotic kiss. Surrendering to it, she threw her head back, offering her eager breasts up for more of his sensual teasing.

  Somewhere a door closed. It must be the entrance to Aldridge’s bedchamber. Cosmo stilled and frustration flashed in the assertive lines of his face. “Good God, I think it’s Aldridge.”

  In her rush to stand, she got tangled in her skirts and tumbled to the floor. “We have to get out of here,” she said in an urgent whisper, stuffing her breasts into her bodice. She reached for her knife and slid it back into place, secured against her thigh.

  He offered a hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come with me.”

  She tugged back at him. “Wait. You got your boon. Now you must tell me how you spied on me.”

  “I think it best to show you.” He led her to the short passageway between the dressing chamber and the main chamber. The wall was wainscoted, and Cosmo pulled one of the innocent-looking panels open to reveal an ordinary cupboard with shelves. The shelves were sparse, with very little on them save a few books and a vase. Cosmo slid one of the shelves out of its grooves, exposing a hidden door in the side of the cupboard. He pushed it open to reveal a narrow staircase. A secret passageway.

  He looked at her for her reaction, and she longed to wipe the smirk off his face. So this was how a drunken dilettante had managed to botch her investigation. Stepping inside, he held out his hand. The sound of Aldridge’s footsteps shuffling toward the dressing room prompted her into action. Taking his proffered hand, she stepped through the door with him.

  He paused to close the panel behind them, and then put the shelf to rights. Without the light from Aldridge’s chamber, they were in complete darkness. The air smelled damp and dusty. Cosmo took her hand in a firm, warm grip and led her down narrow stairs, through a passageway so cramped it barely accommodated the broadness of his shoulders.

  When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard Cosmo moving something around. A door swung open toward them. Light filtered in, and she saw they’d reached Aldridge’s study. Stepping through the passage door, she realized that a row of the bookshelves had pulled back to open like a door.

  “Misère!” She stomped across the faded Aubusson carpet. Obviously, the clerk who’d drawn the floor plans had neglected to include the most relevant information; that behind an unassuming exterior, Langtry House hid its own secrets. The clandestine passages were like silent catacombs holding the house’s mysteries.

  Cosmo closed the secret door, which clicked into place, looking deceptively innocent.
Not only was the house much more complicated than it appeared, so too was the man who stood before her with a smug expression on his too-appealing visage.

  “Don’t be such a poor sport, Angel. I see you hate to lose.”

  Anger quivered in her chest. She did abhor defeat, especially when so much was at stake. “I don’t deny it is especially lowering to be bested by a crétin who excels at drinking and rutting.”

  “Now that we’ve outlined my proficiencies, why don’t we turn our attention to yours?” The mischief in his eyes failed to mask the brooding intelligence behind them. “Exactly what are your primary accomplishments, Mademoiselle Lamarre?”

  Bristling, she turned and paced away from him. In all the searches she’d conducted in the course of her work, she’d never been detected. Until now, and by the likes of him. “I don’t know how I could have missed it.” She spoke more to herself than to him. “I checked the walls.”

  “They are solid.” His manner was not unkind. “The walls are specially designed so the cavity behind them will not sound hollow.”

  “I should have been more thorough.” She wanted to kick herself. A coastal house in an area overrun with smugglers was bound to have hidden cupboards and undetected rooms.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Angel. Whoever designed the secret passageways here at Langtry had a particular zest for intrigue.” He took a seat, easing that long body into a comfortable chair by the fire. “Almost every chamber is accessible by a secret cupboard, false floor, or hidden door.”

  She stilled, her scalp tingling as the implications of that bit of information settled in. “Including my chamber.”

  His lazy smile widened. “Indeed.”

  “You spied on me?” She flushed at the thought that he might have watched when she’d thought she was alone, when she undressed or bathed, or indulged in the most intimate of behaviors alone in bed at night.

  “An interesting choice of words. But, no,” he said softly. “I am not that much of a scoundrel.” His face changed, sharpened, as though something on her face gave her thoughts away. “Although I’m beginning to regret my gentlemanly inclinations.”

  She swallowed. Hard. “I suppose I should be grateful you are not a complete cochon.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” His resonant voice wrapped around her. “Perhaps, one day, you will want me to watch.”

  Desire sluiced through her. “Perhaps.” Not wanting to see his reaction, she turned abruptly and marched to the door, intent on leaving him before she allowed something to happen that she would regret. Pausing at the door, her back still to him, she said, “Will you ask us to leave Langtry now?”

  “Are your brothers part of this?”

  “No,” she said, lying.

  “You’re welcome to stay. I believe in keeping my enemies close. I fully intend to find out what you are after. Whatever it is, I won’t allow you to do injury to Aldridge. I’ll protect my father at all costs.” With those cool, implacable words, he threw down the gauntlet. “No matter whom I have to destroy in the process.”

  The full realization of just how badly she’d underestimated Cosmo Dunsmore settled deep and heavy within her. Behind that ironic lightness lurked a darkly clever man of startling perceptiveness.

  For the first time in her career, she’d lost complete control of the game. But, then again, this evening had demonstrated that it was entirely possible she’d never really had it in hand to begin with.

  Chapter Eight

  The following morning, Cosmo appeared at breakfast to find his father alone at the table, engrossed in the latest newspaper from town.

  Aldridge glanced up. “You’re awake early.”

  “Unfortunately,” he said, going to the sideboard to fill his plate. Someone needed to keep an eye on the parachutist. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  His eyes on the paper, Aldridge sipped his coffee. “You’ve been staying close to home of late.”

  Cosmo sat at the table, motioning for Toby to bring him some coffee. “Dorset doesn’t offer the diversions of the capital.”

  “No indeed.” Putting the paper down, Aldridge perched his elbows on the table and fisted his hands under his chin. “I thought perhaps the presence of the Lamarre family might be attracting your interest.”

  Cosmo dug into his breakfast. Mari certainly attracted his attention. Kissing her, holding her soft warmth in his arms last evening, had shaken him to the core. The paradox of that abundant feminine flesh wrapped in Mari’s fierce, flinty exterior entranced him. In the same breath, he silently cursed himself for his idiocy. He could have no tender feelings for the parachutist; he needed to remember she was the enemy. He must speak to Will to decide how to proceed from here. “I’m surprised both Will and Miss Lamarre are still abed.”

  “You are the only slugabed this morning, Cosmo. Will and Miss Lamarre have long since breakfasted.”

  Cosmo put his fork down. “Indeed?”

  “Yes, they engaged in quite an animated discussion,” Aldridge said. “He expressed an interest in seeing how her parachute frame is constructed.”

  Good old Will. He likely had hopes of collecting more information on Mari before reporting back to his superiors at the Home Office. Cosmo rose from the table. “If you will excuse me.” Will needed to be made aware of the events last night, in particular that Mari now knew Cosmo suspected her of pernicious intentions. “I think I’ll join them, especially as Will intends to depart this morning.”

  Aldridge regarded him with surprise. “So soon? I thought he intended to stay on for a few days.” His last remarks were punctuated by a string of light coughs.

  Cosmo frowned. His father’s ailment seemed to have lasted far longer than it should have. “Can’t Dr. Hodges give you something for that cough?”

  Aldridge waved the concern away with a hand. “It’s merely a chest cold. One of the disadvantages of growing older is that one cannot shake off such nuisances as easily as before.” He picked up the newspaper and returned his attention to it, effectively pronouncing the issue closed.

  Seeing he would make no ground where his father’s health was concerned, Cosmo went to find Will and Mari. The M brothers were outside the barn, inspecting the white silk parachute spread over the ground.

  Maxim hailed him first, and Cosmo inquired as to what they were doing.

  “We must look it over very carefully to assure there is no hole or other breach before we take it up.”

  “Are you ascending today?”

  Maxim shook his head. “Tomorrow. Mari hasn’t finished repairing her frame.”

  The thought of watching Mari plunge from the heavens scraped his lungs like shards of ice. “Speaking of the parachutist, where is she?”

  Marcel shot him a sharp look. “What do you want with her?” he asked with an upward jerk of his chin.

  “My friend, Mr. Naismith, is with her,” he said in a nonchalant fashion. “I wish to join them.”

  Cutting him a skeptical look, Marcel motioned toward the barn with a tip of his head and went back to his work without another word.

  Heading to the barn, Cosmo decided the problem with the elder of Mari’s two siblings was that he was entirely too perceptive. Marcel understood full well what Cosmo wanted from Mari. Unfortunately, debauching every inch of her luscious body was an intent no brother would tolerate.

  He entered the barn to find Mari standing next to her parachute, answering Will’s polite questions about the contraption.

  “Taking a look at Miss Lamarre’s frame, Will?”

  They turned toward him in unison. “Cosmo,” Will said. “I’m pleased you’ve arisen before I take my leave.”

  His eyes met Mari’s. After last night, a new knowledge pulsed between them. Crossing her arms over her breasts—which he’d had bare and overflowing in his hands and mouth just a few hours ago—she said, “This is very early in the day for Monsieur Dunsmore.”

  He yawned on cue. “I can’t perceive why anyone would willingly rise at thi
s ungodly hour.”

  “Miss Lamarre tells me she intends to make a practice jump on the morrow,” Will said. “I shall be very sorry to miss it.”

  “Perhaps you’ll be able to attend our exhibition in London,” Mari said.

  “Where will it occur?”

  “I shall make the parachute descent at the parade ground of the St. George’s Volunteers near Grosvenor Square. Do you know it?”

  After a few more minutes of polite conversation, Will took his leave of Mari and paused outside to bid farewell to her brothers before continuing to the stables to retrieve his mount.

  Cosmo walked alongside him. “Did you learn anything?”

  “I’m no expert in these matters, Cosmo, but hopefully your information will soon be in the hands of people who are.”

  “I’d hate to see her hurt.”

  Pausing to study him, Will pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Miss Lamarre?”

  “One of unrequited, unfulfilled lust,” Cosmo said, knowing that was a half truth. He could hardly admit that a smile from the woman had the power to render him weak in the knees. Once they reached the barn, Will called for the groom to bring his mount. Turning to Cosmo, he said, “Do you have hopes in that direction?”

  Cosmo exhaled. “How could I? If the woman is a spy, she could very well be out to destroy Aldridge. I caught her searching his bedchamber last night.”

  Will’s eyes widened. “No! Did she see you?”

  “Oh, yes. I told her I knew she was up to no good, and assured her I would do whatever it takes to stop her from hurting Aldridge.”

  Will turned to thank the groom who brought his horse. Climbing into the saddle, he paused to look down at Cosmo. “What about the brothers?”

  “She claims they are not a part of her scheme. But you can’t believe a word that comes out of that lovely mouth.”

  “Were you able to ascertain what she might be looking for?”

  “No, but I did inform her that I fully intend to find out. I am not entirely without resources.”