Lord Rogue

by Tiffany Green

  “This dance is mine.”

  Her heart gave a little jolt, then Belle’s repeated lessons took over. Evie glanced up and smiled teasingly at Lord Montague. “How can that be true, my lord, when you haven’t even asked for a dance?” She kept her voice a light, sensual purr.

  He reached down and took her hand, and she had a difficult time holding it steady. His skin was cold, as though he had no pulse, and his grip was indecently tight, making a shiver race down her spine. With eyes serious and lips unsmiling, Lord Montague spoke. “It is my dance because I say it is.”

  His words forbade argument and Evie allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, although she really wanted to go find her brother and leave. There was something dangerous about Lord Montague tonight, something that warned her not to be near him. Must be her nerves, she told herself, and thought about the two Guardians who needed her help. She couldn’t let her fear get in the way. She had a job to do.

  Yet, as Montague began moving through the steps of the dance, Evie wondered how she was ever going to get through this mission. Just the thought of him kissing her and putting his hands on her body made her shudder in revulsion.

  “I am pleased to see you here tonight,” he said in her ear as he moved slowly around her.

  Evie turned her head and studied his vivid blue eyes for a moment, hoping he wasn’t suspicious of her accepting this invitation instead of the much more popular Kenbrook soiree. He had to know she and Kenbrook’s daughter Megan were best friends. In fact, Evie got the feeling Lord Montague knew quite a lot about her.

  She tilted her head shyly. “Why would you be pleased to see me, my lord?”

  He had to wait to answer until he moved around a first-season debutante who kept falling out of step. “That should be obvious, my lady.” His eyes raked up and down her body, stopping to linger at the tops of her breasts bulging up from the bodice of her emerald green gown. Most unmarried young ladies wore pale colors, but Belle would not allow it. She insisted Evie stand out to help distract people from noticing members of the Guardians who might be working nearby.

  They turned to move down a line of dancers, Lord Montague at her right. Evie gave him a sultry half-smile. “I believe I would like you to tell me what you mean.”

  The music came to an end before he had the chance to answer. Evie dipped a curtsey, knowing exactly where his eyes stayed as he bowed over her, and rose slowly, wondering how she was ever going to get any information out of this man. He was quite adept at word games and giving non-answers to questions.

  According to Belle, men could give things away when they were in the height of a lustful experience. With just a few “innocent” questions, a great deal of information could be gleaned. If that failed, taking things from their pockets without getting caught could prove useful. Belle and Jean-Claude had spent hours each day teaching this special skill. Evie had become quite the light-fingered pilferer. Picking locks had been yet another talent she’d mastered under Belle’s training, and Evie could open almost any door within one minute.

  Lord Montague took her arm to escort her back to her brother. “The garden beyond the fountain. At the bench. After your next dance,” he whispered as he bowed over her hand. Waiting for no reply, since it was really a command anyway, he walked across the room.

  Evie took Lord Henry’s arm and allowed him to lead her back to the dance floor. She knew Lord Montague’s eyes were on her the entire time she danced and prayed her nervousness didn’t show. If she missed several of the steps, no one would realize since Lord Henry kept turning the wrong direction and moving out when he should have moved in. She winced when he stomped on her right foot for the third time, which only made matters worse. Stammering out a red-faced apology, the poor fellow elbowed Sir Malcolm right in his big belly, spun around to knock down Miss Jane Goodyard, only to end the whole embarrassing debacle with stepping on the dowager Countess of Langston’s dress, ripping a good amount of lace away from the bottom hem.

  Thankfully, the musicians ended the song and Evie hobbled back to her brother. “I am stepping out for some air,” she said, not seeing Lord Montague in the room. “I will return soon.”

  Ash, studying a pretty, young blonde across the room, nodded and took a sip of his champagne. She crossed her arms, wishing her dolt of a brother would pay attention for once. Her very life might depend on it. “Lord Havenshire just grew two more heads and one of them ate Lady Crandall.” Ash merely nodded once again. Giving up, Evie turned and marched away.

  Heaving a sigh, for being alone with Lord Montague had come way too easy, Evie slipped outside without incident and made her way to the garden. The cold night air bit her bare skin and she shivered, crossing her arms as she headed for the bench beyond the gurgling fountain. Rows upon rows of red, pink, and white rose bushes circled the area, perfuming her way to the back of the garden.

  Evie’s steps crunched lightly on the pebbled pathway and her breath came out in misty grey plumes. Torches had been lit along the path, but ended at the fountain, so she had to step carefully into the darkness the rest of the way to the bench at the far end. The quarter moon gave little light as it slipped in and out of the silvery-black clouds above.

  Her heart pounded a bit harder with each step, and Evie wondered if she were making a huge mistake coming out here alone. Could she actually go through with this? If she had to sleep with Lord Montague to obtain the information, could she really do it?

  Jeremy entered her thoughts of a sudden, and her steps slowed. His kisses, his touch on her skin, everything about him made her ache inside. Made her want to put her arms around him and never let him go. She stopped and bowed her head in the darkness. Would she never rid him from her heart?

  Evie took a deep breath, filling her lungs with cold, dry air. She had to stop thinking of Jeremy. She had to stop agonizing over him. She had to stop loving him. They were both Guardians now, and Guardians did not have real relationships. They did not have families and children. They focused on solving cases. That was it. And there were two lives who were counting on her. Dragon and Blade. She could not fail them.

  Releasing her breath, Evie raised her head and continued along the path until the bench at the rear of the garden came into view. The white marble had a frigid, uninviting look, and she rubbed her hands on her upper arms to try and keep warm.

  “Cold?”

  His deep voice so close to her ear gave her a start. Evie turned and found Lord Montague standing less than two feet away. She never heard his steps crunch the gravel. It was eerie, like he was a specter who just materialized out of thin air. She attempted a smile. “A little cold, yes,” she admitted.

  “Here, take this,” he said, shrugging out of his coat. “Better?” he asked as he settled it around her shoulders.

  The heavy black material pooled around her feet. “Yes. Thank you, my lord,” she said, realizing they were completely alone. No one would hear them or see them. The wool suddenly felt like ice. Chills ran up and down Evie’s body as she held the coat around her and tried not to look scared out of her wits.

  She watched Lord Montague’s profile as he glanced up at the sky and wondered if Jeremy had been overreacting. Belle hadn’t acted as though Evie would be in any real danger, just emphasized the mission’s importance. Two lives were depending on tonight’s outcome. That thought made her realize something else. She had a very rare opportunity to learn what was in Lord Montague’s coat. Pretending to snuggle deeper into the material, Evie found the inner pockets.

  Lord Montague noticed the movement immediately and glanced down at her. Even in the moonlight, the blue of his eyes was piercing, as though he knew exactly what she was up to. But the fingers of her left hand grazed something cold and hard. A key. She could just make out the shape. Should she dare take it?

  He moved closer and Evie had the deuce of a time staying put. She held her breath as he settled his large hands on her shoulders and studied her.

  “Normally it takes me just a few seco
nds to learn all I need to know about someone,” he began in a low, soft tone. His eyes narrowed a fraction. “But you are different, Lady Evie.”

  Evie raised her brows, hoping she looked innocent, and prayed he wouldn’t see the guilty flush warming her cheeks and guess what she was really about. “How am I different, my lord?”

  He brushed a finger down the slope of her right cheek, indicating he did indeed notice. Then he smiled a wolf’s smile, all bared teeth and curled upper lip, as though he weren’t practiced in smiling much. “I always learn the motives behind a person’s actions, my lady. Yours is just taking me a little longer to figure out.”

  “My motives?” she asked, her heart picking up speed.

  The moon slipped into a cloud, covering his face in shadow. She could just make out his eyes in the darkness. Glittering and even more menacing than in full light. “I didn’t think you would come out here alone,” he said, leaning so far down, his warm breath fanned across her cheeks. “Might ruin your reputation.”

  Evie’s mind raced. How on earth was she supposed to answer that? This wasn’t at all going as she had expected. Things were spinning beyond her control, which was something Belle often warned her about. Evie had to steer the conversation away from his control and back to hers. But she also knew she needed to keep him from being suspicious of her. In that instant, a thought came to her. It just happened to be the truth. “In case you are unaware, my lord, my reputation is already ruined.”

  The cloud eased past the moon and Evie was surprised to find Lord Montague hovering just inches above her lips. “Ah, yes, your broken betrothal,” he said with a touch of amusement.

  Evie didn’t want to think about Jeremy, but he crashed into her thoughts all the same. She didn’t have to feign sadness or pain at remembering the last six years. It was always there, would always be there.

  Lord Montague’s face swam before her, and Evie realized tears had formed in her eyes. She blinked and the fat hot drops slid down her cheeks to drip off her chin. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold on her shoulders and stared down hard at her for half a minute.

  “So, that’s what this is about,” he said softly, almost to himself.

  Evie sniffed and dashed the tears away with her hand. “What?”

  His wolf smile came back slowly. “Just how far are you willing to go to make Fielding jealous?”

  Her first thought was to deny the accusation completely. Make Jeremy jealous? How ridiculous was that? Then she thought better of it. What other explanation could she give? What would Lord Montague accept in its place? She was good and stuck with his assumption, although she really didn’t want to bring Jeremy into this case with her. It seemed the harder she fought to keep that man away, the more he slipped back into her life. Her frustration level had just risen up to the moon.

  With a defeated sigh, she bowed her head. “You found me out, Lord Montague. That is exactly what I’m trying to do.”

  He slipped a hand under her chin and raised her head. “You didn’t answer my question, my lady. How far are you willing to go?”

  Evie knew exactly what he was asking. This was her moment, her chance to fulfill her mission. She just didn’t think it would be so difficult to say the words. “I will do what I have to,” she whispered, feeling those blasted tears forming once again.

  “Good,” he said and lowered his head.

  His kiss was brutal and demanding. He pressed her body to his as he forced his tongue into her mouth. Evie hated every second of the assault. These kisses were all about claiming and conquering. Jeremy’s kisses were so different; they were about bringing pleasure and making her yearn for something more.

  But Evie had a mission to fulfill. She had to help the Guardians.

  Evie cleared her mind and recalled her kissing lessons. She relaxed against Lord Montague and heard his groan of satisfaction. Just as she was about to kiss him back, he broke off and turned toward the path. “Who is there?”

  A dark form moved in front of a tall hawthorn bush to their left. “Sorry, Lord Montague. I must have a word.”

  Evie pulled away with a gasp and placed a hand over her mouth. They had been caught kissing! But it was Lord Montague’s chilling glare at the fellow well hidden in the shadows that made her forget her embarrassment and take a step back.

  “You had better have a good reason for this interruption.”

  “I do, my lord.”

  Evie tried to focus on the man but couldn’t make out any distinguishing feature. She didn’t recognize his voice, either. The only thing she could tell about him was he sounded like a young man.

  Lord Montague glanced down at her, anger still glistening in his eyes. “I will return in a few minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Evie gave a nod and watched him walk over to the other man. She wished she could make out their conversation, but could only hear low whispers. If she stepped closer, Lord Montague would surely notice and become suspicious. The information looked important, though. Lord Montague listened intently and went stiff as the young man whispered something and motioned with one of his hands toward the mansion. Then an order was given and the young man rushed away to obey. Evie watched him, hoping to catch some glimpse, but he stayed in the shadows of the hedge before disappearing through an opening several yards away. Then Lord Montague turned around and walked back to her.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders. “As much as I hate to, my lady, I must go.”

  “I hope there isn’t anything wrong.”

  “Nothing that can’t be corrected.” He leaned down and gave her a hard, but thankfully brief, kiss. “Expect to hear from me soon,” he whispered, removed his coat from her shoulders, then headed back toward the mansion. His steps were barely audible on the white pebbled path.

  Evie watched until he disappeared completely from view, then she lifted her left arm and slowly opened her hand. The moon broke free from another cloud and she could just make out an old iron key in the center of her palm.

  “What in the hell are doing, Evie? And where did you get that key?”

  Chapter 8

  Jeremy stopped at the top of the steps and scanned the crowd for signs of Evie. He didn’t find her and was just about to heave a sigh of relief when he spotted her brother dancing with Crandall’s youngest daughter, Lady Sarah. He glanced about for Montague and his pulse quickened when the man was nowhere to be found. Montague had to be there. His coach was waiting in the drive.

  The caller announced Jeremy and a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. All heads swiveled up, then chatter broke out as he began descending the steps. Jeremy knew there would be talk about why he attended the Crandall gala and not Kenbrook’s as expected. Ignoring the batting eyes and sultry looks from the ladies, he gave a secret inner smile. Doing the unexpected was much more fun than being predictable.

  As the crowd circled in around him, Jeremy accepted a champagne glass from a servant and watched Lady Crandall wedge her way in to be the first to greet him as was customary for the host. “Lord Fielding, we are honored by your arrival,” she said, unable to hide her surprise and great pleasure as she dipped into a rather dramatic curtsey.

  Jeremy hadn’t accepted the invitation, but he knew it didn’t matter. Crandall just got the biggest social boost ever with his attendance. “Thank you, my lady, for inviting me,” he said and accepted her hand. Kissing Lady Crandall’s knuckles made her giggle and Jeremy had to put up with five full minutes of her prattle. He couldn’t get away without promising a dance, though, and turned away to look for Ghost, who was supposed to have already arrived.

  “Jeremy, I am shocked to say the least.”

  Hiding his grimace, Jeremy turned to see his sister and mother both charging in his direction. Blast it to hell, he didn’t have time for this. He needed to find Evie. He plastered on a smile and greeted them both with cheek kisses. “Hello Mother. Phyllis.”

  His mother rapped him on the shoulder with her silver and ivory fan. “Yo
u promised me a visit. Where have you been?”

  Drunk again, Jeremy thought, and gave her a bright smile. “I will come next Wednesday afternoon.”

  She was shaking her blonde head before he finished, stumbled, then righted herself. “Tomorrow for dinner. No, wait, I have plans for dinner.” Lifting her glass to her lips, she discovered it empty and turned to Phyllis. “Be a good daughter, will you, and get me a fresh drink? Thank you, dearest.”

  Once Phyllis had disappeared into the crowd, his mother pulled him to a more private part of the room. Her breath reeked of gin. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Phyllis, not in her delicate state, but…”

  Jeremy gave her a few more seconds to flounder for the right words. He knew exactly what she wanted. It’s what she always wanted. With a sigh, he folded his arms. “How much?”

  She tapped her fan in her palm, her bleary gaze skidding away. “Two thousand.”

  Jeremy leaned down. Surely, he hadn’t heard correctly. “Two thousand, you say?”

  Licking her lips, she nodded. Her eyes still wouldn’t meet his. And for good reason. The woman was costing him a bloody fortune. “Mother, your gambling debts are out of control,” he said softly.

  “I know, I know. And I will stop.” She glanced up, her hazel green eyes pleading. “Soon, I promise.”

  He blew out a sigh, having heard the same promise many times before. Except, in the last several months, she grew more reckless, stubbornly remaining at the gambling table until she had overextended her credit, passed out, or both. Yet, be damned if he knew what to do about it. “When do you need it?”