Lord Babbage cleared his throat, but wouldn’t meet Devin’s eyes. “I know you’ll no longer accept the dowry money.” His gaze flickered toward Devin, but then he glanced away again. “That was a nasty business, what with all of society believing you to be a thief. I certainly understand wanting to distance yourself from any possible stain.” He rubbed at a nonexistent spot on his lapel. “I’ve given Cecilia a wedding gift, and I hope you’ll accept it in the spirit in which it’s been given.” He abruptly reached out and took Devin’s hand, shaking it briefly and then releasing it. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to assist Lady Babbage.”
Devin shot Cecilia a puzzled look. “A wedding gift? Is there something you wanted to tell me?”
“He surprised me with it this morning. I was planning to tell you while we were on our honeymoon. It can wait, can’t it?”
Devin surveyed the room again and suppressed a sigh. “It can wait.” There were still quite a few people they needed to speak to.
Cecilia touched his arm. “Have you noticed the way M LeCompte watches Evangeline?”
“What do you mean?” Devin scanned the room until he located LeCompte.
The Frenchman still had his arm in a black sling. He stood facing Evangeline, who sat on the far side of the room, near the exit. LeCompte’s air of nonchalance was as smooth and languid as that of cat sunning itself in a window. There seemed to be nothing of note until—there it was! LeCompte fixed his gaze on Evangeline. It was only the briefest flash of interest, but something indefinable in the man quickened as he gazed at her. But then the expression disappeared as though it had never been there. If not for Cecilia’s comment, he would have doubted that he had seen anything at all.
“There. Did you see that?” Cecilia asked. “I don’t think it’s anything to be overly concerned with. At least, not yet. But if I’m not mistaken, he’s quite taken with her.”
Devin cocked an eyebrow. “You believe that M LeCompte has developed some sort of interest in your sister? She’s only fifteen.”
“Which would explain why he’s keeping his distance. But mark my words. His interest will sharpen once she turns eighteen and comes out in society.” She frowned slightly. “We’ll need to ensure that she’s launched here, not in some backwater in France. We’ll have to have her come and stay with us.”
In their tiny flat. Well, they’d make do, wouldn’t they?
Devin tucked Cecilia’s hand into the crook of his arm. He liked listening to her plan their future together. It gave him a feeling of belonging and permanence. A sense that all was right in the world.
Devin glanced across the room at LeCompte only to have the man meet his gaze. LeCompte didn’t seem at all surprised by the scrutiny. In fact, Devin had the distinct impression that he knew they’d been discussing him. A moment later, LeCompte broke away from the group he’d been standing with and crossed the room toward them.
“Félicitations pour votre mariage,” he said, congratulating them.
“Merci,” Devin said, stretching the limits of his understanding of the French language. “And may we offer our sympathies for your recent injury.”
“This?” LeCompte said, glancing at his own shoulder dismissively. “A hazard of living in London, it seems. Frenchmen aren’t nearly as violent when they find their wives are dallying with…” He trailed off, glancing significantly at Cecilia. “But perhaps that topic is one best left alone.”
Devin had heard a number of people repeating this particular story regarding how the Frenchman had been injured, and now the man confirmed his suspicions. LeCompte himself was behind the lie. He’d created a fictitious angry husband to account for the gunshot wound in his shoulder.
“I never thought I’d hear you spreading scurrilous gossip about yourself,” Cecilia commented.
“And why not?” LeCompte countered. “Who else would know the juiciest details?”
“Who indeed?” she replied.
“There is one thing I’d hoped to discuss with you,” LeCompte said, dropping his voice so that it didn’t carry, but still held an intensity of purpose.
Devin glanced around and noted that LeCompte had chosen his moment to speak with care. There was no one else within earshot.
“Perhaps it goes without saying. Even so, I’m a cautious man.” LeCompte met Devin’s gaze. “I’d appreciate it if you’d never mention my involvement in what took place.”
“Of course,” Devin replied. “Evangeline already conveyed as much to us.”
“And I appreciate that, but there’s more. I’m asking you never to reveal anything I shared with you that evening. Tell no one about my other purpose in being here. I assure you that in keeping my secret, you won’t be compromising your loyalty to your queen.”
Devin nodded slowly. “All right. I can promise not to mention what I know of you in casual conversation. But if I’m ever questioned by the authorities, I won’t lie for you.”
LeCompte gave a curt nod. “Nor would I ask you to.”
13 - Wedding Night
By the time they were finally able to contemplate climbing into a bed, it was late. They’d taken the train to a port where they could catch a steamship that took them across the channel to France. Once they’d arrived it was very late, and they’d boarded a train that would bring them into Paris by morning.
That meant they’d spend their wedding night in a sleeping car on the train in a private room called a couchette.
When Cecilia first entered the train car, she was relieved to notice that the couchette included a small private lavatory. She’d been wondering about that.
Two bench seats faced each other. “Is that where we sleep?” she asked.
“In a manner of speaking. The attendant will stop by to open them up and convert them into beds.”
“Beds?” She looked at them dubiously. “They don’t look very comfortable.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Cecilia finally gave in to her weariness, let out a sigh, and sat heavily on one of the bench seats.
“You sound exhausted.” He set her small travel case in the lavatory and then joined her on the bench seat.
“It’s been a long day.” He was so close that she immediately gave in to the urge to lean her head against his shoulder. “It seems odd to think that when I return to London, my family will be gone.”
“We’ll visit them.” The low rumble of his voice was reassuring.
“I know. I think it only takes a couple of days to get to Cannes from London. We could spend a few weeks visiting them each summer.”
“It would be nice to leave the city.”
Cecilia thought about the gift her father had given them. If Devin accepted it, then perhaps they wouldn’t be in the city at all.
A knock came at the same moment that a Frenchman said, “Porter,” through the closed door.
“Entrez,” Devin replied. He glanced at Cecilia. “He’s come to make up our beds. It will be crowded in here. Let’s step into the hall.”
She nodded, rose to her feet, and followed Devin into the corridor.
When she walked back into that room, there’d be a bed. She swallowed. She could do this. Of course she could. Didn’t every other married woman on earth do it? And besides, she’d be with Devin.
The porter made quick work of his task and was soon back in the hallway. When Cecilia stepped back into the couchette, the benches were gone. The porter had pulled them into the center of the room so that the seats met in the middle. The seat backs had become part of the flat surface of the bed, making an enormous sleep surface that touched both walls. A number of tempting soft pillows rested beneath the couchette’s shuttered window, and a crisp white duvet covered the bed. Two stacks of neatly folded towels were in the lavatory.
“I suppose it’s time to retire,” she said.
Devin latched the door behind them, making sure that it was locked. “Would you like me to help with your corset?”
Cecilia blushed. “Thank you.”<
br />
She turned her back to Devin, suddenly embarrassed as she unbuttoned the bodice of her traveling dress. She shrugged out of it and then loosened the buttons holding her skirts in place.
She felt Devin’s hands as he tugged at the laces of her corset. It was a relief to have them undone. He tugged at them until the strings were loose enough to allow her to undo the metal clasps in the front.
Cecilia turned to enter the tiny lavatory and suddenly realized that her wide skirts would entirely fill the small space leaving her little room to move about. Blushing, she took a step backward, undid the laces of her petticoats and hoops, and allowed them, and her skirts, to fall to the floor.
She couldn’t bear to look at Devin as she scampered into the lavatory, so she kept her back to him. She hated having him see her in her bloomers and corset. But then she lifted her chin. After all, he’d seen her bare legs when she’d ridden Kenning’s horse. Why should she worry about having him see her bloomers? As she turned to close the door, she glanced back over her shoulder. Devin stared at her, looking for all the world as though someone had just hit him in the head with a fire poker.
She smiled to herself as she closed the door.
Poor man.
She quickly washed her face and hands, brushed her teeth, and changed into the chemise from her traveling bag. She also removed all the pins from her hair and brushed it out. She braided it neatly into a side plait that hung down the front of her shoulder and brushed the top of her breast.
Just before she opened the door, she remembered the small vial of perfume her mother had given her. She opened it now and dabbed a bit behind each ear and between her breasts. The spicy scent filled her nostrils. She hoped she hadn’t used too much.
This was it. Time to face her husband.
When she finally stepped back into the couchette, she found that Devin had removed his jacket and shoes. He now wore only his white shirt and trousers. His dark hair stood on end, as though he’d been raking his fingers through it, and his full lips looked pensive.
In defiance of all logic, knowing he was rattled settled her nerves.
“I’ll only be a moment,” he said, and slipped past her to enter the lavatory without meeting her gaze.
That made things easier. She lifted her chemise and crawled into the bed, finding it awkward to enter it from the foot rather than the side. She tugged down the covers that she was perched upon, thankful that Devin wasn’t watching her as she clumsily yanked the sheets out from under her knees. Finally, she climbed under the duvet, propped the pillows behind her, snuggled beneath the covers, and waited for Devin.
When he stepped from the lavatory he was shirtless, and his chest gleamed with water. His face was damp, too. In fact, it appeared that he had shaved.
Is that what men did? Shave at bedtime? How curious.
She’d never before stopped to consider it, but she was certain that Father’s valet shaved him in the morning. She’d enjoy learning more of these quirks and details about her husband.
Devin seemed tense at first, but as soon as he saw her in bed, his shoulders relaxed as the tension eased from them.
This was the first time she’d ever seen him bare-chested, and she liked what she saw. He had a triangle of hair below his neck that trailed down to a line that disappeared beneath the waistband of his drawers.
As he placed one knee on the foot of the bed, he reminded her of a prowling cat creeping up on its prey. The thought made her shiver in anticipation. His muscles shifted beneath his skin as he moved. Her own muscles weren’t so well defined, and this novel play of skin and sinew transfixed her.
In the dim light of the couchette, she noticed that his pupils were dilated, like dark pools of midnight rimmed in a shadowy blue. A slow, sensual smile curved his full lips, and Cecilia’s heart beat harder in her chest.
“Are you nervous?” he asked in a soft voice.
“A little. Perhaps if you were to kiss me…”
In a swift movement, he was over her, pinning her in place under the duvet as he knelt above her. He braced a hand on either side of her head and leaned down, claiming her mouth with his.
His cheeks were cool and damp against hers. And quite smooth. He smelled spicy and clean. She parted her lips to taste him and their tongues touched, sending an electrifying jolt all the way to her toes. She wanted to lift her hands to touch him, but they, too, were pinned beneath the duvet.
He must have felt her struggle to move, because he shifted his knees back, releasing her hands. She quickly pulled them free and then wrapped them around Devin’s shoulders, pulling him closer. His skin was hot beneath her touch. If felt like velvet, and she slid her fingers over the rounded muscles and into the sculpted grooves of his upper arm, reveling in the feel of him.
He let her hold him there for a moment, but then pulled back again. He grabbed the edge of the duvet and peeled it back, uncovering her down to her bare toes. Her chemise had ridden up to her hips when she’d crawled beneath the covers, and now he gazed down at her body like a starving man gazing upon a banquet.
Tremors of excitement shot through her. Being wanted by this man was intoxicating.
He rolled to one side, lowering himself onto the bed so that he was stretched out next to her.
“I won’t rush this,” he said, his voice sounding husky. “I want you to enjoy tonight.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand as he gazed into her eyes. “There’s so much I want to do with you. So much pleasure I want to share.”
Pleasure?
“Do you know what will happen? Has anyone…”
Cecilia blushed as she nodded. “Of course, I had an idea already, but Mother explained things rather well.”
“Then you know that the first time some women have pain?”
She swallowed and nodded again. “But Mother says it passes quickly.”
“So I’ve been told.”
That must mean he’d never been with a virgin. That was good to know.
“I want to be honest with you. I’ve been with other women.”
She flushed more deeply, keenly aware of a rising sense of jealousy. “I’d surmised as much. I trust that it won’t happen again.” She met his eyes, wanting to see him when he responded.
“Never.” His resolute expression left no doubt in her mind that he meant what he said. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
He lowered his head and kissed her again, but then his lips trailed along the edge of her mouth and down the length of her neck. When he came to the top of her chemise, he tugged on it, pulling it down as far as the stiff cotton fabric would go. He was able to bare the top of her breast, but nothing more.
“You smell so good,” he murmured. He inhaled deeply, apparently savoring her scent.
The cotton fabric proved to be no real barrier to him. His kisses continued down the outside of her chemise until he reached her nipple. He paused there, rubbing his mouth back and forth across the nub until it tightened and stood erect. He opened his mouth, encircling the bud through the fabric. His hot, wet tongue dampened the cotton as he sucked and tugged on it. His other hand slid up and began teasing her other breast until both nipples were erect.
Devin let out a groan and then slid his hand down her side. When he touched the bare skin of her thigh, she tensed.
He paused the movement of his hand and returned to nuzzling her breast. He blew gently against her damp nipple, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. Her breathing quickened under his onslaught, and it was a moment before she realized that his hand had slipped beneath her chemise and was traveling up her waist.
He stopped and leaned up on one arm, pulling her up with him so that she was sitting in bed. Then he shifted his weight, grabbed her chemise with both hands, and pulled it up and over her head. It all happened so quickly that she automatically complied, lifting her hands above her head and allowing him to undress her.
He gazed at her for a moment and then press
ed her back against the pillows. This time, as he lowered his head to her breasts, he pressed them together, deepening her cleavage as he grazed her nipples with his rough thumbs. He straddled her and then lowered his head to her breasts, burying his face between them. He turned to one side to kiss one, and then the other. “They’re both so perfect. It seems a shame to neglect one in favor of the other.”
A moment later, he let out a deep sigh as he released her breasts and then began trailing kisses downward, toward her navel. He paused there, licking and kissing it as well. She was surprised by the intense jolt of passion that shot from her navel to somewhere deep within her.
He didn't stop there for long. His lips moved back up to her breasts, but his hands continued to slide down her body, touching and caressing. All Cecilia could do was writhe on the bed. She clutched at the sheets, needing something to grab hold of. Something to dig her nails into. It was either the sheets or Devin’s shoulders, and even in her state of passionate delirium, she was able to prevent herself from drawing blood.
As his exploring hands reached the triangle of hair between her legs, he paused. He shifted his leg and nudged his knee between hers, urging them apart. She acquiesced, and the weight of his hips pressing against hers felt right in a deeply satisfying way. It was then that she realized he still wore his drawers. Even so, she could feel his erection pressing against her, his arousal apparent.
His hand slipped between her legs, and when he touched the soft flesh hidden there, she jumped in surprise.
“It’s fine,” he said in a low soothing tone. “Just relax.”
She clenched fistfuls of the sheets again, squeezing her eyes shut. Strange, tingling sensations suffused her as his fingers slid against her tender flesh, and she realized that it was now slick with something.
“You’re wet for me already,” he said. By his tone, she knew this was a good thing, so she relaxed. His finger slid inside her opening, and he moaned as he entered her. Then he slid it back out and rubbed his slickened fingers around the outside of the opening, moving up to where the intricate folds hid a nub. But now that nub felt almost electric under his touch. She jumped as he gently caressed it, every nerve in her body responding to the amazing new sensation. Cecilia let out a gasp and then groaned.
It Takes a Spy...: A Secrets and Seduction book Page 12