by Amelia Grey
With all the aplomb she could muster considering how fast her heart was beating, Susannah wove her way through the crowd on the first floor and found Mrs. Princeton.
A servant passed by with a tray of champagne, and Susannah took a glass, deciding she needed something to fortify her for what she was about to do. As she lifted the glass to her lips and took her first sip, she saw Race walk through the door. Suddenly, her stomach felt as if it had a hundred butterflies in it and all of them were trying to get out. Just the sight of him filled her with sweet longing.
Her breasts tightened as she remembered how his lips had moved so effortlessly over hers, how gentle his hands had been, and how wonderful she and Race had made each other feel. Though she saw his gaze searching the room, it didn’t appear he’d seen her. She quickly turned away from him. She didn’t need to have her mind on him. She had allowed him to distract her for the last time.
Susannah gave the glass of champagne to Mrs. Princeton and said, “I’m ready to begin my search. I must go down to the ground floor, but you stay up here and keep your sights on Captain Spyglass.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Mrs. Princeton looked stiff, and her bottom lip quivered. Susannah exhaled heavily. “You don’t have to go speak to him. Just watch him, follow him, and if you see him heading below stairs, faint or start screaming.”
“That won’t be difficult to do, Your Grace.”
Susannah gave her a warm smile and patted her upper arm as she walked past her and whispered, “Thank you for your bravery.”
As inconspicuously as possible, she made her way to the ground floor, where a servant stood by the front door ready to greet new arrivals or get wraps for those departing. She pretended to be looking at a painting until she saw him turn his back, and then she quickly rounded the corner out of his sight. A runner of fine Turkish carpet muffled Susannah’s steps as she tiptoed down the dimly lit corridor on the ground floor. The darkened passageway seemed to stretch forever toward the three doors at the end. One of them had to be the master of the house’s bedchamber.
Her heart pumped wildly with fear and with hope. If only fate would smile on her and she could find the pearls in a velvet pouch in the first drawer she opened. A constant roar of near panic filled her ears, but she forced herself to remain calm and collected as she tried the knob on each door. Only two of the doors were locked. The one room that wasn’t had been filled floor to ceiling with furniture from the upper rooms.
She pulled the key ring out of her clothing and counted five keys on it.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to try the door in the center first. She put first one and then another key into the keyhole and tried them until only one key was left. She put it in and turned, but it didn’t unlock the door either.
Were none of the servant’s keys to this door?
As she moved on to the other door, tension and fear had her fingers numb and she began to doubt herself. Why had she agreed to come to London on this ill-fated mission? What had made her think she could get the pearls legally, let alone by theft? She should be in her own home at Chapel Gate, leading her quiet life, playing her music, reading poetry. But if she had never come to London, she would have never met Race. She wouldn’t have felt alive for the first time in years. She wouldn’t have fallen in love. Unbidden, memories of his kisses, his touch, his… No, she had to push those thoughts aside. He would not distract her again.
Maybe she’d just been in too big a hurry. With shaky hands, she started trying the keys again.
Click.
Was that the lock? She pulled the key out, turned the knob, pushed the door open just a crack, and listened. No sound came from inside the room. She looked behind her again. The corridor was empty. She opened the door a little farther so that she could stick her head inside for a quick peek. Her gaze scanned the handsomely appointed room that appeared to be Captain Spyglass’s bedchamber.
Only one light burned in the room, a small oil lamp on a dressing table. A tall, turned-spindle bed stood against the far wall. The draperies and coverlet were the creamy color of aged pearls. They were trimmed with gold cord and bullion fringe. Her gaze darted around the luxurious room. Glowing embers smoldered in the fireplace on the back wall.
“What the devil are you doing?”
Startled, Susannah jumped and dropped the key ring onto the carpeted floor of the corridor with a loud thud that seemed to reverberate through the whole house.
Her cheeks flamed with heat. “Oh, by the saints in heaven, Race, you frightened the life out of me,” she whispered.
“Obviously not,” he said, bending to pick up the keys. “You seem to still be breathing.”
She frowned. “No thanks to you. What are you doing here?”
“Following you.” He held up the keys. “How did you get these?”
“By making a poor servant girl spill a tray of glasses, and no, I am not proud of myself for doing that but I am pleased. I’ve found Captain Spyglass’s bedchamber, and now I intend to look for the pearls.”
Race reached behind her and pulled the door quietly closed.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Once again, I’m saving you from a fate worse than death. Spyglass is not the kind of man you can cross, Susannah. He may look innocent enough, but I assure you if he caught you in his bedchamber you would find out just how dangerous he really is.”
“Give me back those keys and go away. I don’t need you to help me find the necklace.”
His gaze swept over hers. “Why didn’t you listen to me? I told you I have an expert who is doing just that. I can’t believe you would put yourself in this kind of danger all for a few strands of pearls.”
“I am not concerned about myself,” she insisted. “Have you never listened to anything I have said?”
His eyes searched her face, and softly he said, “I have heard everything you have said to me. I will find the pearls, Susannah.”
“I don’t want your help,” she said indignantly. “As you can see, I’m making progress on my own. You have said you would look at my documents, but I don’t trust you to turn the pearls over to me. If you find them, you will keep them.”
Voices sounded from just around the corner behind them. A chill flew up Susannah’s spine, and she felt as if her heart jumped into her throat.
Race pulled Susannah to his chest.
“Which key locks the door?”
Susannah looked down at the keys. They all looked alike. “I’m not sure.”
“Bloody hell,” Race mumbled.
The voices drew nearer.
“Let me do the talking, and you had better kiss me like you mean it.”
There was no fear of that not happening as Race’s mouth came down on hers in a demand so great it took Susannah’s breath. She felt his hand working feverishly, trying keys in the lock as his lips roved over hers. Forgetting that danger was mere seconds away, Susannah surrendered completely to the power Race had over her. Their lips were ravenous, exploring with no thought of parting as their breaths mixed, their bodies pressed.
“See here, what are you doing? Come away from there.”
Race broke the kiss, and Susannah heard a click. The door was locked. Race dropped the key ring into his coat pocket.
“Did you hear me? I said move away,” the man demanded again.
Susannah and Race jerked apart as a tall, thin man with black hair walked toward them.
Race cleared his throat and pushed Susannah behind him, shielding her as much as possible. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and pulled on the tail of his coat.
“Sorry, we were just strolling down the corridor. No harm in that, is there?”
As the man advanced, Race moved them away from the three doors at the end of the corridor and continued to protect Susannah as much as possible from the perturbed
man’s view.
While keeping his eyes on Race and Susannah backing up, he tried the two doors and made sure they were locked.
“Move away from here to have your tryst. This is a private area of the house.”
“Thank you,” Race said. “That is exactly what we will do.”
Race took hold of her elbow and whispered, “Where in the house did you make the maid spill the glasses?”
“What could that possibly matter?”
“I want to put the keys on the floor in that area. When she finds them missing, that will be the first place she goes looking for them, and I intend that she find them.”
Susannah told him where she had pilfered the keys.
“Get your wrap. I’ll find Mrs. Princeton and send her down to you. Go home.”
She gasped. “I will not. How dare you start ordering me around?”
His hand tightened on her elbow. “I do not want you here if there is any fallout from the missing keys. Go home and leave your door unlocked for me. I will come to you tonight.”
“No.” Her voice remained firm, and her eyes held steady on his. “It will not be unlocked. You will be wasting your time to come to my door.”
His brownish-green gaze swept up and down her face. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.” He turned and hurried up the stairs.
Seventeen
My Grandson Alexander,
Lord Chesterfield’s wit never ceased to amaze me. Read these words to see why: “Every excellency, and every virtue, has its kindred vice or weakness, and if carried beyond certain bounds sinks into the one or the other. Vice in its true light is so deformed that it shocks us at first sight and would hardly ever seduce us if it did not, at first, wear the mask of some virtue.”
Your loving Grandmother,
Lady Elder
Race downed the last of the brandy in his glass and stared at the back of Susannah’s house from his book room window. He had waited and watched for over an hour as all the lights in the house had gone out except the one that came from Susannah’s room. She had told him not to come. After their passionate kiss in Captain Spyglass’s home, how could he not? He was consumed with yearning, and he wanted to make love to her. He wanted to feel her warm and responsive body beneath him. He craved more of her, and the only thing that separated them was two gardens.
After he had watched Susannah and Mrs. Princeton leave Spyglass’s party, he had hurriedly stashed the maid’s keys in a corner of the corridor on the first floor where Susannah had swiped them. He hoped no one would ever be the wiser about what really happened to the keys.
It knotted his stomach to think how close Susannah had come to getting caught in Spyglass’s bedchamber by that butler, guard, or whatever the hell he was. Race didn’t even want to think about what might have happened to her if he hadn’t seen her walking down the stairs and decided to follow her. She was too bold and audacious for her own good.
Race was impressed with her courage and her determination, but she was playing a risky game that involved people far less scrupulous than she could imagine. From all Race had heard, and despite Spyglass being welcomed to parties by people in Polite Society, he would not be forgiving if anyone tried to rob him. Just the thought of her being found snooping in Spyglass’s bedchamber sent fear skittering through Race’s chest and down his spine.
He untied his neckcloth and threw it on top of his desk and then discarded his collar, too. Had Susannah meant it when she told him not to come to her door? Even though she had looked and sounded like she meant it, she was not indifferent to him. Proof of that lay in how quickly passion flared between them during that brief embrace in the corridor. Just thinking about that aroused him.
Without further thought, Race strode out of the house and tromped through his garden. He found the hole in the yew he’d cut. He had forgotten how long it had been since he had cut it, and already it was growing back together. Mrs. Frost had told him the gardener had almost collapsed into a fit when he saw what some prankster had done to his perfectly trimmed hedge.
Race bent down and with some difficulty managed to crawl through the hole. He was careful not to scratch his face this time. He wanted no more lewd remarks from Morgan.
The night was bright with a large moon and more stars in the sky than he could remember seeing in a long time. He breathed in the fresh, cool air and thought only of getting to Susannah. He hastened his steps and quietly took the outside stairs two at a time until he reached the landing on the first floor.
The moon was in just the right angle to glisten its beams on the door. Race smiled and reached for the knob in anticipation. He turned it as he pushed on the door with his other hand. The knob didn’t move and neither did the door.
Not wanting to believe what seemed to be the obvious, he added more pressure and turned the knob again. The door was bolted from the inside and it wasn’t going to budge.
For a moment, Race just stood there and stared at the door. His heart beat erratically. He had been so sure she would unlock the door for him that it momentarily stunned him that she hadn’t.
Trying to gather his tattered wits and bruised ego, Race blew out a disappointed breath and then moistened his lips. Was it possible she hadn’t felt all that he had during their one night together? He laughed quietly to himself. No, that he would not believe. She had wanted him as desperately as he had wanted her. She had not been faking her pleasure. He was sure of that.
Perhaps he had destroyed any soft feelings she had for him when he accused her of stealing the pearls. She had been furious with him, and at the time he’d been too blinded to see the truth. He had misjudged her, barged into her house like a wild boar, and worse, he hadn’t really apologized to her for either of those things yet. No wonder she kept the door bolted against him. A note scribbled on a piece of foolscap didn’t constitute an apology.
Race ran both hands through his hair in frustration at his own loutish behavior. She should have slapped him that morning or thrown her hairbrush at his head. Maybe that would have knocked some sense into him, since he seemed to have taken leave of it.
Thinking on it now, he didn’t know how he could possibly have thought she could have betrayed him so soon after she had completely yielded her body to him. What madness had sent him over the edge of reason into insanity?
Love?
No.
Yes.
He raked a palm through his hair once again. Was what he felt for Susannah love? It must be. But how had it snuck up on him?
“Bloody hell and damnation, too!” he whispered softly into the darkness.
If it was love, what was he going to do about it? Falling in love wasn’t anything he’d planned for his near future.
He had fallen hard for her the moment he laid eyes on her. He could no longer deny that to himself or anyone else.
He had always expected, had always wanted to one day fall madly in love, but he’d always thought it would be with a young and untouched lady like Blake’s wife Henrietta. It had never crossed his mind that he would fall in love with a beautiful, self-assured, and fascinating widow his own age. Susannah was a lady who was more than his equal in intelligence, courage, and title. She had not only turned his world upside down, but she had set his world on fire, too.
He had absolutely no desire for the silly young ladies making their debuts into Society. He wanted Susannah. He didn’t understand it but felt as if he’d been waiting for her his entire life.
It was odd, but he didn’t care that she had been married or what her husband may or may not have made her feel when she was in his bed. He didn’t even care if she’d had other lovers. All that mattered to him was that Susannah be his. And he wanted her with him for the rest of his life.
But had he realized that too late? Had he lost her forever because of his own foolish behavior?
Race squeezed his eyes s
hut and shook his head for a moment. He took in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He could win her back. He was certain about that. Obviously not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, but he would woo her back to him. If he had to, he would move heaven and earth to do it.
Set with determination, Race turned away from the door, but before his foot hit the first step down he heard a soft click behind him, and he stopped.
Was that sound the bolt on the door?
He did hear it, didn’t he?
Race spun and stared at the door as his heart hammered in his chest. The moon still shone brightly on the knob. It wasn’t moving. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Had he only heard night sounds of crickets, frogs, or something else? Was what he heard just the creak of an old house settling on its foundation? His gaze remained frozen on the door, and he listened but heard nothing more.
Race suddenly relaxed and laughed softly to himself again. Could he have wanted her to unbolt the door so desperately that he imagined she had? But then hadn’t he imagined himself wrapped in Susannah’s glorious arms, in her warm bed, many times over the past few days?
Could he leave her house without trying the knob one more time?
No, he couldn’t.
Race quietly retraced his steps to the door and then hesitated. Did he want to feel such heart-wrenching rejection again should his senses be playing tricks on him?
Still…
He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Slowly his arm snaked out toward the knob, but his fist remained closed. If the door was still bolted, what would he do?
Break the door down?
No.
He would take his time and woo her.
He was not without charm when he chose to use it. And he would use it. He would make such a romantic assault on her, she would be begging him to come back to her bed.
His hand opened and then closed around the cold knob. He turned his wrist, and the knob moved. He laid his open palm on the door and pushed slowly. The door opened, creaking slightly. His legs went weak. He swallowed a gulping groan, and he fell against the doorjamb, breathing heavily.