“Tomorrow.”
Hearing Phyllis coming up behind him, he merely nodded. When his mother drained her fresh glass dry, he excused himself to look for Evie. His mother wouldn’t bother him for the rest of the evening now that she got what she wanted.
After searching several minutes, he found Ghost, sans costume, near the French doors leading outside and walked to him. “Find her?” he asked softly.
“She’s out there,” Ghost moved his head slightly toward the gardens, “beyond the fountain.”
Jeremy started to move past, but Ghost stopped him. “She isn’t alone.”
Turning to his friend, he narrowed his eyes. But he already knew the answer to his question. She was with Montague. Swearing inwardly, Jeremy dashed through the doors and moved quickly through the garden, keeping to the outer edge of the hawthorn hedges. He didn’t use the path since the pebbles would announce his arrival, nor did he want to be seen in the torch light.
His heart hammered away as he neared the back of the garden and hunched down into a gap in the hedge to spy on the two figures standing way too close together. And then the bastard was actually kissing Evie. Jeremy went wild with rage. He started to jump up and storm in their direction, but Ghost pulled him back down by the arm. “Don’t be daft,” Ghost hissed in his ear, “you will endanger her.”
That brought him back to his senses. Jeremy didn’t want to put Evie in any danger. But, God, how could he just stay put and watch that man touch Evie in such an obscene manner? The bastard had better not try to have his way with her. He would certainly put a stop to that.
“Listen,” Ghost said so softly, Jeremy nearly missed it. Then he heard it. The sound of someone sneaking up toward Montague and Evie.
The soft steps neared and Jeremy held his breath, wondering if he and Ghost had been found out. Perhaps Montague had assigned someone to watch the area. Jeremy balled his hand into a fist, ready to take the man out if he got any closer.
Montague straightened and turned his head. “Who is there?”
The man stopped near the gap in the hedge and Jeremy could just make out the back of the man’s boot about a yard to his right. “Sorry, Lord Montague. I must have a word.”
Evie’s gasp brought Jeremy’s head up. He watched her put a hand over her mouth and take a step back.
“You had better have a good reason for this interruption,” Montague growled.
“I do, my lord.”
Montague spoke something softly to Evie, then he turned and walked right up to the man. “What is your news?”
Jeremy held perfectly still and listened to every whispered word.
“Fielding. I found him. He is here.”
“Here? Are you certain?”
“Yes, my lord. Saw him arrive with my own eyes.”
Montague glanced over his shoulder at Evie, then back to the man. “Have any idea why he came?”
“None. He had accepted Kenbrook’s invitation, so he shouldn’t even be here.”
Jeremy pursed his lips, not liking the thought that Montague was having him followed. What did the man suspect? Surely, not his connection with the Guardians. From now on, he’d take even greater precautions to conceal his involvement with the organization.
“Stay with him and report your findings to me in the morning while he’s still abed. And don’t lose him again.”
“Yes, my lord,” Montague’s man said and dashed back toward the mansion.
Jeremy could just make out a tall outline in the darkness, nothing more. He turned to Ghost and nodded toward the man. Ghost melted back into the shadows without making a sound and followed after.
Turning back to Montague, Jeremy found the bastard once again drawing Evie into his arms for a kiss. He clenched his teeth and glanced away. Watching made him sick. When he heard Montague’s footsteps on the path, he took a deep breath and waited until the man was a good distance away and safely out of earshot. Then he hopped up out of his hiding place and crept to the rear of the bench.
Evie was looking at something in her hand. Jeremy came up behind her and glanced over her shoulder. She was holding what looked like an old cell door key. He stopped inches from her back and folded his arms. “What in the hell do you think you are doing, Evie? And where did you get that key?”
She spun around so fast, Jeremy had to reach out to steady her. The key clattered over the pebbles between their feet. “Oh, it’s you!” Evie paused to take a deep breath. “You frightened me to death. Don’t ever do that again.”
Jeremy reached down and scooped up the key.
Evie held out her hand, palm up. “Give that back.” She wiggled her fingers. “Now, please.”
He shook his head. “I want some answers first.” He slipped the key into his inner pocket.
She crossed her arms with a sigh and frowned up at him. Evie looked beautiful in the moonlight with her alabaster skin glowing and her dark eyes shooting sparks at him. He itched to pull her into his arms and spend all night kissing her. God, just thinking of her kisses sent sparks through his body and made his cock twitch with need.
“Well?” she demanded. “What are your questions?”
“What are you doing out here alone with Montague?” He nearly spat the man’s name out.
Evie hitched a brow. “My job.”
“Blast it to hell, woman, you mean to go through with this? After all I said?” Jeremy began pacing. “Of all the stubborn, obstinate—”
“I really do not have time for this, Jeremy. Please return my key so I can get back to the party.” Once again, she held out her hand. “Ash has surely noticed how long I’ve been gone by now.”
He stopped to tower over her, hoping a little intimidation would get him some answers. “Where did you get the key?”
“I found it.”
The lie was written all over her face. Jeremy swore again. She would never make it through this assignment and cursed Belle and Elder for doing this to her. Jeremy pulled her into his arms, realizing how cold she felt. “I cannot let them do this to you,” he whispered and grazed his lips across her temple. She smelled delicious. Lavender and vanilla. He pressed more kisses to her temple, then down to her cheek.
Evie raised her head and Jeremy couldn’t stop himself from settling his lips over hers. She melted against him and kissed him back. Something strange stirred within him when she raised her arms and wound them around his neck. Her cool fingers raked through his hair and he moaned low in his throat as the sensation sent sensual jolts to gather between his legs. She pressed herself closer and deepened the kiss, making his balls clench. God, he wanted her. He wanted her more than he wanted anyone in his life.
His hand reached up and he grazed the cool, soft skin at her neck, feeling her strong pulse tap against his fingertips, then down to the swell of her breast. Her nipple hardened instantly through the fabric. How he wanted to draw it into his mouth as he filled her body with his. He wanted to taste her and torture her with kisses on those special sensitive places that made women sob in pleasure. He wanted to make love to her all night. Every night.
That thought jarred him back to reality. Jeremy ended the kiss and leaned back, watching her eyelids flutter open. She remained disoriented for several seconds, her eyes full of passion, her parted lips glistening from his kisses. Evie was even more beautiful in that moment than ever before. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered.
Terrified of the answer, he stepped away, then turned around and marched back to the mansion. The brisk air helped to clear his head and he was back under control before spying Ghost waiting for him near a rose bush several feet away.
“Who was he? Where did he go?”
Ghost nodded toward the mansion. “In there looking for you. He’s one of Montague’s lackeys who likes to dress up as a gentleman. Name’s Bartholomew Morris.”
Jeremy nodded. Hearing footsteps on the path, he moved deeper into the shadows to let Evie walk by without noticing him. His eyes followed her every move. She paus
ed before the French doors and glanced down at something in her hand. With a cocky little half-smile, she dropped the thing into her drawstring purse and went into the mansion.
“Son of a bitch…” Jeremy growled, checking his inner coat pocket and finding it empty. So that’s how she’d gotten the key away from Montague. Jeremy had to admire her skill. He didn’t have to like it, but he did admire it.
And he wouldn’t underestimate her again.
Evie was still rattled by that kiss. Jeremy’s, not Montague’s. The kisses from Montague were as appealing as kissing her brother’s horse. Actually, she would prefer the horse. But Jeremy’s kisses. Evie gulped back a large swallow of champagne, hoping her cheeks weren’t showing the fire burning in them. Now those kisses, she felt in very private places. In fact, she still throbbed there.
She held the champagne glass to her lips and glanced around the room. Jeremy had somehow sneaked back in without her noticing and was leading the beautiful Miss Josephine Whitechapel toward the dance floor. He was flirting outrageously, as was typical, making Josephine turn a bright shade of pink.
After setting aside her empty glass, Evie made her way closer to the dance floor, shamelessly hoping to hear what Jeremy was saying to the girl. She really had to quit torturing herself like this, but she just couldn’t help it.
Seeing her brother talking with a group of his friends nearby, she walked up to him. “Ash, you haven’t danced with me once tonight.”
“Next song, Eve, promise,” he answered and dove back into the conversation about some boring old fox hunt.
Giving his back a good frown, for she was already thinking of ways to repay him, she turned and scanned the crowd at her right. Seeing the familiar face of someone she hadn’t yet danced with tonight, she walked in his direction. “Lord Bentwood, hello.”
Lord Bentwood, or Ghost to the Guardians, smiled down at her. “Lady Evie, how nice to see you again.” His deep brown eyes were almost black and twinkled when he smiled. “Are you enjoying the party?”
“I am, indeed, my lord. You?”
“It certainly has been an enlightening evening,” he answered and took a sip of his champagne.
Evie immediately homed in on his words. So, he and Jeremy have learned something. She cut her eyes to the dance floor and found the scoundrel whispering something to Josephine, making the girl turn even redder and stumble through several steps of the dance. Typical.
“I was hoping for a dance,” she said, turning to smile up at Ghost.
He chuckled, then set his drink aside. “Absolutely, my lady, I would be delighted to accept.”
Ghost led her to the dance floor at the exact moment they would step beside Jeremy and Josephine. Evie pretended not to notice them and kept her attention fixed on her handsome partner. The Earl of Bentwood was actually quite dashing with dark brown hair and eyes, a sculptured face with much the same look as the marble Hector statue she spotted at the museum. The man also had a keen wit. He was about two inches shorter than Jeremy, but had a larger build. Evie didn’t have to guess why he became a member of the Guardians. His beloved wife, Anna, had died about five years ago during childbirth. Like her, he probably needed the distraction from the pain of losing a great love. He also had a married brother to inherit the earldom, who had four sons of his own at last count.
Evie strained to hear what Jeremy was prattling on about. Unfortunately, she could only make out a few words, followed by Josephine’s irritating giggles. Did the rogue have to flirt with every female in the building?
The answer to her question came swift and nearly knocked the air out of her lungs. Yes, he did. In order to gather information for the various Guardian assignments, Rogue had to be persuasive. Evie had always known Jeremy to be a charmer, so this must be his way of extracting information. He and Belle were the same, then. But in order to hide the identity of his true target and not arouse suspicion, Jeremy had to flirt with all the ladies.
Evie studied Jeremy’s profile. This is all an act, isn’t it Jeremy?
“You seem lost in thought, my lady.”
Evie turned to Lord Bentwood and gave an embarrassed little smile. “Sorry, my mind wandered.”
His gaze flickered toward Jeremy and his lips spread into a wide smile. “So, I see.”
Before Evie had the chance to respond, a couple bumped right into them.
“Oh, do pardon me, my lady,” the tall man said, and surreptitiously placed a small piece of paper right into her palm. Then he collected his dance partner and continued around her and Ghost.
Evie’s hand folded around the paper, wondering about the contents. She would have to find out after the dance.
“Did he just hand you something?” Ghost whispered as he twirled her to the right.
“I don’t think that—”
“That was Montague’s man, Morris,” he continued in the barest of whispers into her ear.
Evie knew it would look like he was flirting with her, so she smiled and even produced one of Josephine’s horrible giggles. “That’s what I thought you’d say, my lord,” she purred.
The song ended before Lord Bentwood could respond and he stayed close to her as they walked toward the refreshment table. As he reached for two glasses of champagne, Evie had the chance to read the note. Her blood turned to ice as she read the slanted, slashing letters.
Lady E,
Replacing me already? This would not please me at all, my dear. You can make it up to me by accepting an invitation I shall send to your home tomorrow. I will not take no for an answer.
Yours, M
It was certainly from Montague! She wondered what sort of invitation he would be sending. Folding the note, she slipped it into her wrist bag and accepted the glass of champagne Ghost handed to her with a smile. She felt eyes on her and tried to ignore the unsettling feeling of being watched.
“Everything all right, Lady Evie?” Lord Bentwood asked softly as he lifted his drink to his lips.
She knew he wanted to know about the note. She also knew Montague was watching her and couldn’t let him see the uneasiness she was starting to feel.
Relaxing her tense shoulders, Evie smiled up to Ghost. “Everything is wonderful.” She lowered her voice. “It’s all going as planned.” She took a sip of champagne, concentrating on the cool, crisp bubbles sliding down her throat instead of the contents of that note. “I promised the next dance to my brother.” She set her drink down. “Thank you for the twirl around the room, Lord Bentwood.”
“My pleasure, Lady Evie,” he said with a slight bow.
Evie curtsied and sauntered back to her brother, wishing all of the sudden they could just go home. Something wasn’t right anymore. It was the oddest thing, like the whole atmosphere in the room had just shifted and turned darker. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and goosebumps rose on her arms. Glancing about to try and locate the source of her sudden eerie feeling, Evie clashed gazes with vivid blue eyes staring right at her from across the dance floor. Montague stood unsmiling and unmoving, and the amount of fury in his gaze made her stumble back a step.
With a gasp, Evie spun around and ploughed right into someone’s chest. His arms went around her to steady her. “Easy, pet,” he whispered into her ear.
Evie closed her eyes. Jeremy.
Chapter 9
Jeremy was still furious with Montague into the next day. He pushed aside his full breakfast plate and lifted his coffee cup as his anger continued to boil. The way the man had frightened Evie last night, Jeremy shook his head. Her face had gone white and her eyes were filled with terror when she saw how enraged Montague had become at her dancing with Ghost. Clearly the deranged man had already marked Evie as his property and was making it clear to others to keep away.
“Something bothering you, my lord?”
Forgetting all about Myran in the room, Jeremy jerked his head up. “Ah, just some estate business.” He cleared his throat. “You did a fine job on my clock. It kept the correct time all nigh
t.”
Myran’s fair cheeks filled with color. He gave a shrug. “It was nothing.” He shoveled another pile of food into his mouth, then waved his empty fork up and down while chewing until he swallowed the bite. “Mr. Bentley mentioned that a few things needed to be fixed. The piano bench, a table leg in the dining room, and some old music box that belonged to your grandmother.”
Jeremy drained his coffee. “By all means, fix whatever you like.” He rose from his seat. “Now, please excuse me while I get some work done in my study.” He waved Myran back into his chair. “Stay and finish your breakfast. Have a third plate,” he said with a grin. For such a thin young man, Myran ate like a horse.
“Thank you, my lord,” Myran said and dove into the fresh pile of buttered eggs on his plate.
Jeremy had just left the breakfast room when Bentley stopped him. “My lord, a message has been delivered.” The butler handed him the note and lowered his voice. “Red owl seal.”
“Thank you, Bentley,” Jeremy said, knowing it was from the Guardians. He walked into his study and read the note.
Meeting. Noon.
There was no signature, nothing whatever to identify the person who wrote the words, but Jeremy knew Elder’s handwriting. He threw the scrap of paper into the fireplace, where the low burning flames grabbed hold of one corner and quickly spread over the note until a wavy charcoal square remained on top of the pile of red-orange coals.
Jeremy turned toward the door, then remembered something he was supposed to do today. He halted, his shoulders going tense. “Damn,” he whispered, glancing at the clock. Nearly eleven. Then an idea surfaced and he smiled. It could work.
Pulling the brass filigree key from his pocket, he turned to his desk and opened the locked drawer. Taking out a stack of pound notes, he quickly locked the drawer and set the block of money into a small leather valise and left the study.
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