by Lauren Smith
“Thank you.” Linley feigned interest in the silver spoons a moment longer before he spoke. “I should return to Lord Lonsdale.”
He left the footman and headed back up the stairs into the main hall. Now that he’d delivered his report he could pursue his next objective.
Linley came to the room where Lady Melbourne was residing with Lennox. The chamber would be empty, he hoped. Just before he touched the knob, the door opened and a little girl scrambled out, her face red and her little giggles undeniably sweet.
“Shoo! You shouldn’t be in there!” Linley chastised, but he couldn’t help but laugh as he watched the giggling child race down the corridor. Once Linley was assured that no one else was in the hall, he turned the latch and slipped inside. Lennox’s bedroom was large and masculine, yet the tastes were clearly refined, like Lonsdale’s.
A small dresser drew Linley’s attention. He rifled through the drawers, finding dresses, undergarments and other items which belonged to Lady Melbourne, but no evidence of what he’d been charged to find—an object that could decode messages. It had been so important that Daniel Sheffield had broken the code of silence to contact her, albeit indirectly.
Tom had been told they’d searched Lady Melbourne’s residence and turned up nothing. Therefore, it stood to reason that she had brought it with her, and Tom was in the best position to find out.
As he searched the last drawer of a small table beside the bed, his fingers brushed something cool and circular. He clutched it and raised it up in the light. A pocket watch. Sheffield had said the cipher would resemble a watch, but inside it would have symbols and letters rather than a watch face. He popped the lid open.
Linley’s heart sank. No decoder, just a common pocket watch. He dropped it back into the drawer and faced the room, trying to decide what else to search.
Digging around the bedding and through Lennox’s clothes, Linley huffed in disappointment. He checked every place he could think of but found nothing. Curses! Waverly would be furious. The thought made him feel faint. A sound outside the door made him jump.
Darting behind the door, which had started to open, he held his breath. A chambermaid entered, carrying a bucket and a cloth sling with firewood logs. While her back was to him, Linley ducked around the open door and out into the corridor again. He would have to try again tomorrow.
He trotted up the main stairs and headed for his master’s chambers. Lonsdale was inside, facing the fire in his room, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the flames. He rolled a glass of brandy between his palms and didn’t turn around as Linley approached.
“There you are, lad. I’m having the worst fit of the blue devils. I don’t suppose you’d care to go a round or two with me in Ashton’s leisure room?”
“Boxing?” Linley clarified.
“Yes, what do you think? I’ve been idle for too long and need to be occupied.” Charles turned around in his seat, hope shining in his eyes.
Linley found himself nodding. He always preferred to have Charles happy and smiling when he could manage it. It kept him from asking questions.
“Excellent. Let me show you the way.” Charles finished his brandy and set it on the mantle before heading to the door. He seemed as comfortable in Lennox’s townhouse as in his own.
“Do you know where it is, my lord?” Linley asked.
“Oh, I’ve been coming here since I was eighteen. Often we in the League would gather at one member’s house while on holiday. Saved us from having dreadful relations trying to marry us off over and over. But those days seem to be coming to an end.”
Charles led Linley on a tour through the elegant, sunny halls. Linley was so rarely able to appreciate beauty. Even when he seemed to be relaxed, his mind was on his mission, wary of potential threats. But now he could steal glimpses of how the rich and titled lived.
An ache formed deep in his chest as he thought back to his life before his master, when he’d been a child in a happy household, his mother a lady’s maid to a beloved countess. Life had been full of joy then. Every room was filled with light and laughter. And then it was gone.
Lennox House reminded him of those happier times. The servants were welcoming, and with the tenant farm children running about, it was full of the sounds of love and family. It was nice to have the little scamps underfoot.
The ache in his chest grew for little Katherine, his baby sister he’d left back in London at Charles’s home. It was hard to leave her for so long, even if she was well cared for. In some ways, Katherine was all he had left of his life before.
Charles stopped in front of an open room. There was a space for fencing and equipment hanging on the wall. There was also a boxing ring on the floor outlined in white paint on the wood. Charles stopped by the ring and removed his waistcoat and hung it on a peg by the fencing foils. He rolled up his sleeves, exposing his tanned, muscled forearms.
“Well, come on, lad. Take that cap off and let’s go.”
Linley held the cap tight to his head. “I’ll keep it on if it’s the same to you, my lord.” Then he rolled up his sleeves and stepped into the ring.
“I’ll only end up knocking it off.”
“I’m hoping you’ll go easy on me, my lord.”
Charles raised his bare fists. “Put up your paws and let me see your form.”
Linley curled his fingers into fists and lifted them up awkwardly.
Charles dropped his hands and walked up to Linley with a critical eye. Linley held his breath as the other man raised his hands higher.
“Like this.” Charles seemed to be satisfied, and then he walked backward, putting distance between them before he raised his own hands.
“Should I throw a punch?” Linley offered.
With a nod, Charles waited for him to move.
Studying his master’s body, Linley looked for points of weakness. He’d spent more than a year learning how to fight from a master. He could see Charles’s brandy had weakened his stance, and one elbow hung lower than the other. With just a shift to the right he could cut through Charles’s guard without his master even being aware of it before Linley had him on the ground and pinned.
It was not the way a gentleman would fight, of course, but he hadn’t been trained to fight like a gentleman. He’d been trained to survive.
“Don’t dawdle, lad. Show me your moves.” Charles danced a step closer, gently feigning a throw with one hand.
Linley analyzed the way he moved, graceful as a waltz. Linley would not get past Charles’s defenses by fighting fair. Knowing this, Linley sidestepped, and the instant his opponent mirrored him, he shot forward and landed a blow to Charles’s shoulder. It was a glancing blow, not intended to hurt.
Charles’s gray eyes lit up with delight. “Well done. Again.”
It was a ritual. Charles was banishing the demons that so often tried to drown him. The nightmares he suffered were beginning to haunt Linley too. More than once, he’d woken to the sound of half-strangled screams, and he’d find his master thrashing about in the sheets, unable to wake.
The memories of those long nights spurred Linley to move faster, strike harder. Whatever was causing Charles grief built a fury inside Linley that he could not understand.
He was meant to betray this good man someday, lead him like a lamb to slaughter the day his master commanded it. He’d made peace with that fact. And yet he hated that this man was hurting in such a silent and lonely way. He deserved better than the fate that would someday come to him.
A light punch to Linley’s chest sent him stumbling back.
The blow had caught him off guard, and though it only stung a little, he reacted with instinct. He swept Charles’s leg, knocking the man off his feet. He hit the floor with a thud and a groan.
Ha! Linley grinned, then winced. That had been foolish. He should never have used such a move. The art of combat could be as distinctive as a signature, he’d been told, and if Charles suspected that this had been more than just luck…
“What the devil?” Charles growled as he got up and lunged for Linley. He had no choice but to take the blow to avoid suspicion. Suddenly the world was spinning and he landed on his back with a crash. Charles rolled on top of him, pinning him down.
The shock of the impact sent a hundred buried memories through Linley.
Pain. So much pain. Hands on his throat. His true master taking everything from him. His world destroyed, but a new one offered. At a price. A guttural scream ripped from his throat and stars dotted his vision.
“Tom! Shake it off, lad, you’re fine!” Charles’s voice barely cut through Linley’s terror, but at least he could breathe now.
Sweet, blessed air.
He sucked it greedily into his lungs, and his vision cleared. He was back in the leisure room with Charles.
“Are you all right? You scared the bloody hell out of me, Tom.” Charles’s face was carved with lines of worry, and he crouched beside Linley.
“I’m sorry…my lord,” he whispered. His voice was too hoarse for anything else.
Charles placed one hand on Linley’s shoulder. “I thought you were ready for some more of the rough tactics when you took out my leg like that.”
“Just something I saw once. Never tried it before.”
“I’m sorry. It was my fault for assuming. I keep forgetting that your last master had a rough hand. I am sorry, Tom.”
“I promise to do better, my lord.”
Charles simply stared at him for a long moment. “Don’t get so serious on me, lad. It’s just a bit of sport. Never apologize or make such a vow again. Whatever that man did to you was wrong. You didn’t deserve it, and you must never believe that ever again. Do you understand?”
Linley’s throat tightened and his eyes burned with treacherous tears.
“Ah, don’t cry, lad.”
Linley scrambled to his feet and raced out of the leisure room. He was relieved when Charles did not come after him. He ducked into a darkened room down the hall and shut the door, leaning back against it as he regained his breath and his wits.
He missed Charles’s townhouse and he missed Katherine. Katherine was in good hands, but it didn’t make Linley miss her any less.
She was why he was doing all this. His master would take her away if Linley didn’t do as he was told. For now it was information. But someday, when the time was right, he would have to deliver Charles to him. To Hugo.
God save me for my treachery…
*****
Claire fussed over Rosalind’s hair before dinner and laid out a dark purple silk gown with a plunging neckline that would no doubt draw Ashton’s attention. Rosalind tugged the bodice up and raised a brow at Claire.
“You did tell me to pack lightly, Your Ladyship.”
“I did, but I did not mean to pack the gowns with the least amount of cloth to them. It will attract the eyes of every man in the room.”
Her maid chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with displaying a lady’s bosom in a fine gown.”
“I quite agree.” Ashton’s voice made Rosalind and Claire both jump.
He stood in the doorway, those blue eyes more alive than she’d ever seen them before. Rosalind looked away, still embarrassed by how much of herself she’d revealed this afternoon in the bath. He’d used intimacy to break down her walls and make her share the darker parts of her heart. She felt…perhaps not betrayed, but exposed at the very least.
“Claire, would you mind giving us a minute?” Her maid bowed, backing away as Ashton walked over to Rosalind by the dressing table. He reached out for a loose curl of her hair and wound it around her finger. Rosalind’s breath caught as she looked up into his face.
“I thought, given how the last few days have been, that things between us deserved some…” He continued to play with the lock of her hair, but the expression on his face had become oddly bashful.
“Some what?”
A red tint suffused Ashton’s cheeks. Rosalind’s lips curved into a smile. What could possibly make the baron bashful?
“I swear, if you laugh, I shan’t mention it again.”
She bit her lip and nodded.
He let go of her hair and slipped his hand into the pocket of his waistcoat. What he retrieved surprised her. Dangling from his fingers on a fine gold chain was a trio of amethysts spaced a few inches apart and set in gold.
“I thought, although it feels strange to do so, that I should make a romantic gesture of sorts. Show you my committed interest in our match.” He held the necklace out for her to get a closer look.
It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The necklace reminded her of one her mother once had long ago, one that she used to wear to balls. The gesture was impossibly sweet, and as a sign of commitment it sent her heart skittering. The delighted whirl of her thoughts came to a crashing halt, however. Was he trying to buy her affection?
Rosalind stared at the gift, then him. The earnestness on his face fed the well of hope that had begun to grow within her. She would not have thought him capable of a romantic gesture like that, ever. Yet here he was, holding out a part of his life to her, with hope in those bewitching eyes of his. It was such a beautiful necklace, and it would look exquisite on any woman.
He cleared his throat. “The stones represent the past, present and future. Very few valuables survived the year my father destroyed our family fortunes. This was one of them. We hid it away, saving it for Joanna, but tonight she told me she’d much rather have it go to you. I wanted to give you something that was part of me, not part of our business dealings.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted desperately to believe he cared about her and their life together, but she wasn’t sure it was wise to believe he was capable of that.
“Well, do you accept it? I…haven’t ever given jewelry to a woman before. I confess I’m rather nervous.” He chuckled, but she saw the vulnerability in his eyes.
“Not even your mistresses?” She couldn’t resist teasing him.
A wry smile curved his lips. “No. They were happy enough with rewards of flowers. Something befitting a temporary relationship.”
Rosalind laughed. “Ah yes, the infamous Lennox technique—leave only pleasant memories behind. Even I have heard of that.” But this had shown there was another side to him, one he hid from the entire world. A man of passions and desires that lay beneath that cool exterior. When he took her into his arms, she could taste that hunger for life upon his lips and feel it in the heat of his hands, held at bay through discipline and perhaps even fear.
“I suppose Emily has spilled all my secrets during one of your afternoon teas?”
“Certainly not. She sang only your praises. But other women do talk. And you are quite a topic of discussion for some of them.”
His lips thinned in irritation. “I readily admit I’m not a natural wooer. I know what is expected of me, of course, but those are mere formalities. True wooing should come from somewhere more genuine, and in that regard my instincts are sorely lacking. But I have every intent to woo you as you should be.”
“Well, in that case, I might let you.” She stared at the necklace again and then reached for it. He lifted it out of her immediate reach.
“Allow me the honor.”
Smiling, Rosalind turned her back to him and sat patiently, though her heart was hammering against her ribs.
Ashton laid the necklace against her throat and fastened the clasp. She touched the stones, and his hand covered hers.
“Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
His lips curved. “I’m sure you have lots of jewelry.”
“True. But none that holds such importance,” she assured him. “When my mother died, I wasn’t allowed to keep anything of hers. My father sold everything, even her clothes.” She admitted this painfully, each word hurting as she let herself remember the past. “Henry bought me a few jewels, but I never wished for him to spend money on them and asked him to stop. I had convinced myself I did not deserve them.�
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Ashton frowned. “You deserve whatever joys the world chooses to give you, as well as those you make for yourself.”
“His greatest gift to me was helping me see that.”
Ashton moved to sit beside her on the bench in front of his dressing table and cupped her face in his hands.
“This will be a new beginning for us, a chance to start over, as partners, not rivals.”
He dipped his head and slanted his mouth over hers, the kiss full of tenderness and passion that left her muddleheaded. She could have kissed him like that forever, slow, sensual, and yet infinitely sweet as they explored each other.
When they finally parted, both were breathing a little heavily, and Rosalind’s body ached for more of what that kiss had promised. Ashton continued to gaze almost dreamily at her mouth. It felt so wonderful to be the center of his focus and his hunger.
“Every time I kiss you I think it cannot be better than the last one, yet every time you surprise me.” His soft words stirred heated longings inside her, not just for lovemaking but for other lost wishes as well.
She stared up into his eyes and bravely opened her heart. “When I was a young girl, I used to dream about this, a man who would say what you just said.” She could feel the tears burning in her eyes, but they were happy tears. “Mayhap the dream is not as lost as I had feared.”
Ashton cupped her chin and nodded. “Nor is mine.”
She wondered what Ashton’s dream was, but she was afraid he would not tell her. Maybe someday he will tell me all that lies in his heart.
Perhaps their marriage wouldn’t be a disaster after all.
“Ashton?” she asked.
“Hmm?” His hand had moved to her neck and was gently stroking down her throat in a feathery caress.
“I don’t suppose you’d let me invite my brothers to the wedding?” She was only teasing, but Ashton seemed to consider it seriously.
“If you wish. Are you in contact with them?”
She shook her head. “Not since I left Scotland. Brock knew once I left I had to stay out of my father’s sight and mind. Even if I married, my father might still wish to harm me or drag me back home. He is a wretched man. He never wanted me around, but he never wanted me to be free of him, either. To him, I was his property.”