by Connie Mason
Reed snapped to attention. “Has something happened to Fleur?”
“Not yet, but I received a frantic message from Peter Weldon. He says it’s time to pull Fleur out, that if we wait any longer it will be too late.”
“When do I leave?” Reed asked, gritting his teeth to stem his frustration. He’d wanted Fleur safely out of France for weeks.
“I’m of the opinion that we shouldn’t delay. Can you be ready to sail on tonight’s tide? Captain Skilling’s ship is provisioned and waiting in London Pool.”
“I’ll be ready as soon as I return home and dress in something more appropriate than the fancy duds I’m wearing. Any other instructions?”
“Captain Skilling has all the details you need to know. Weldon’s message was terse, but his urgency was unmistakable. If Fleur Fontaine’s undercover work for us has been exposed, she needs to get out as fast as possible.”
Reed gave a jerky nod. “I’ll bring her back—you can depend on it.”
The interview over, Reed made straight for his townhouse. Updike met him at the door. “I expect to be gone for a few days, Updike. I’ll be leaving directly.”
Updike nodded and followed Reed to his chamber. “I’ll pack your bag immediately.”
“A few necessities are all I need.”
Updike’s eyebrows shot up. “As you say. Am I to accompany you?”
“No, this is . . . I can’t discuss this with you or anyone else.”
Updike frowned. “Not another assignment, my lord. I thought you were finished with all that.”
Reed began pulling clothes from his wardrobe. “It’s not what you think.”
“May I inquire what you’re looking for in your wardrobe?”
“I’m searching for something nondescript to wear aboard ship. And boots, Updike. Those old ones in the back of my wardrobe will do.”
While Updike rummaged around for the clothing Reed wanted, Reed opened the chest at the foot of his bed and retrieved a variety of weapons, including a pair of dueling pistols, a wicked-looking dagger and a sword.
“My word,” Updike said with a gasp. “I hope you don’t intend to use those weapons.”
“Only if necessary, Updike, only if necessary. Have you found something for me to wear?”
Updike handed Reed a pair of black breeches, a white linen shirt and a black jacket. When he brought forth a snowy white cravat, Reed waved it aside. “I’m not going to a fancy ball.”
Reed shoved his feet into his boots, strapped on his sword and began thrusting the remaining weapons beneath the belt. Before he left, he tossed a black cloak over his shoulders.
Updike shuddered. “You look like a proper pirate, my lord. Dare I hope you’ll be careful?”
“I don’t expect danger at this point, but I want to be ready should it arrive. Take care of things while I’m gone, Updike.”
“You can depend upon me, sir. Be careful,” he called as Reed strode out the door.
Captain Skilling was waiting when Reed arrived aboard his ship. He greeted Reed warmly and led him into his cabin to talk strategy while waiting for the tide to turn.
“Brandy?” Skilling asked as he shut the door behind them.
“I would appreciate it,” Reed answered.
“Take a seat while I fetch our drinks. I could use something bracing myself.”
Reed flopped into a chair, his mind occupied with thoughts of Fleur, wondering what kind of situation she had gotten herself into. Skilling handed Reed a goblet half filled with brandy and pulled a chair up to a desk covered with maps. Reed sipped thoughtfully as he waited for Skilling to speak.
“What did Porter tell you?” Skilling asked.
“Just the basics,” Reed answered. “He said you’d provide the details.”
Skilling nodded. “There’s not much to tell. We’re to set you ashore on the narrow strip of beach close to the cottage and put out to sea until the following night. Then we’ll sail into the cove where we picked you up before and wait offshore for your signal. If you fail to appear, I’ll take the ship to the alternate rendezvous site. If you don’t signal us to send the rowboat for you at either rendezvous site after two consecutive nights, our orders are to return to England. The cliff near the cottage is steep; do you think you can manage? I doubt there is a path. If I set you ashore in the cove where the road is more accessible, you’d have a long walk to the cottage.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way up. And I’ll bring Fleur to the rendezvous if I have to drag her all the way.”
Skilling grinned. “I’m sure you will.”
Reed took a hefty slug of brandy. “No matter what happens, I’m not leaving France without Fleur.”
Before Skilling could reply, there came a knock on the door. “Come,” Skilling called.
The first mate entered. “The tide is turning, Captain.”
“Make preparations to get underway,” Skilling ordered. “I’ll take the wheel myself.”
The first mate took his leave. “We’ll talk later,” Skilling said. “I’m needed on deck.”
“I’ll join you,” Reed replied, rising. Though the captain’s roomy cabin in no way resembled the tiny windowless cabins below deck, Reed would rather be out in the open.
Darkness hovered on the horizon as the ship left its berth and sailed down the Thames. Once into the channel, the schooner scudded before the wind at a fast clip. Reed found a place on an overturned barrel, dozing intermittently as Skilling guided the ship through the channel.
As daylight chased away the night, Reed rose and stretched. Skilling turned the wheel over to his first mate and invited Reed to breakfast with him. Reed followed Skilling into his cabin. Soon after, the cabin boy arrived with a breakfast of eggs, ham, bread and ale. It seemed the schooner was well provisioned for the short voyage.
Reed returned to the deck after breakfast and remained there despite a fine misting of rain and fog. Though he took his meals with the captain, Reed chose to wrap himself in his cloak and sleep on deck with the sailors. The wind was with them. They left the channel and turned south along the French coast, reaching their destination without encountering any French ships well after dark on the third day. The weather had cleared, though the moon was obscured by wispy clouds.
Captain Skilling ordered the sails furled and the anchor dropped. Reed prepared to leave the ship, waiting impatiently for the rowboat to be lowered.
“We’ll be waiting for your signal tomorrow night,” Skilling advised. “Just wave a lantern back and forth, and we’ll launch the rowboat to pick you up. God go with you, Hunthurst.”
Reed clapped Skilling’s shoulder, then clambered down the ladder and into the rocking rowboat. The two sailors accompanying him shoved off and rowed toward the dark crescent of beach.
The moment the rowboat hit the beach, Reed jumped into the surf and waded ashore. The rowboat shoved off and soon disappeared into the darkness.
Reed searched the cliff rising above him, looking for the easiest way to scale it. After careful inspection he decided there was no easy way. He grabbed hold of the nearest tree root and started climbing, inch by careful inch. Loose sand caused him to lose his footing a time or two, but after stopping several times to catch his breath, he finally pulled himself over the crest.
Reed took a few minutes to rest and get his bearings before setting off. He knew exactly where he was. It was but a short walk to the lane that led to the cottage. He almost missed it in the inky darkness but recognized the hedge that lined both sides of the way and started down the rutted road. He had nearly reached the cottage when he heard a noise and drew his pistol. A man stepped out from a break in the hedge.
“Who goes there?”
Reed recognized the voice. “Antoine, is that you? I’ve come to take the countess to safety.”
Antoine approached Reed and stared into his face. “Andre didn’t tell us you would be the one to come for the countess. Thank God you arrived, monsieur.”
“What are you do
ing out here?”
“I just relieved Gaston; he’s sleeping in the stables. We take turns patrolling since the countess’s last visit to Devil’s Chateau. If soldiers approach, we can hear their horses before they arrive. A few minutes’ warning is all the countess and Lisette need to hide in the hole beneath the ground.”
Though Reed was boiling inside, he swallowed his rage and asked as calmly as possible, “Why in God’s name would Fleur return to Devil’s Chateau when she knew the consequences? I warned her before I left about her reckless behavior.”
“She returned one last time because of you, monsieur.”
“Me?” Reed gasped.
“Oui, monsieur. She knew how you hated to leave Doctor Leclair behind and wanted to free him for you.”
“She took Leclair from the prison?”
“Oui, monsieur. He is still here and occupies your old chamber.”
“Is he well?”
“He was in better condition than you were when we carried you out.”
Reed glanced at the dark outline of the cottage. “I suppose everyone is sleeping, so I won’t bother him. It’s best that I make my presence known in the morning. Is the front door unlatched? I can sleep on the sofa in the parlor for what’s left of the night. Meanwhile, prepare for a hasty departure. We are to meet the ship in the cove tomorrow night after dark.”
“We will be ready, monsieur. The front door has been left unlatched in case Antoine or I need to enter quickly. I will continue to keep watch while you and the others sleep.”
Reed headed toward the cottage. Nothing stirred, not even a breeze. An eerie silence hung in the air, raising the hackles on his neck. He glanced back at Antoine. Nothing seemed amiss, so he climbed the steps to the front door and turned the doorknob. It opened with only one tiny squeak.
Reed heard nothing, saw nothing as he felt his way to the parlor. He knew the layout of the cottage by heart and had no difficulty finding his destination. A chill slithered down his spine. The fire had died, taking its warmth with it. Removing a flint from a pouch in his pocket, he felt around for a candle, found one and struck a light to its wick.
Sighing wearily, Reed slumped down on the sofa and stared into the cold hearth. The thought that Fleur was asleep just down the hall warmed him. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since he had left the cottage all those weeks ago. She was everything to admire: passion and courage, temptation and desire, beauty and determination. Reed had to force himself not to tiptoe into her chamber, climb into her bed and make love to her.
Fear settled in Reed’s chest. Despite Antoine’s assurance, he couldn’t help worrying about Fleur’s safety. Anything could happen between now and tomorrow night. Reed removed his weapons, placed them near at hand and blew out the candle. He lay back and closed his eyes, hoping for a couple hours of much needed sleep. He had just started to doze when a light flared before his closed eyelids. His eyes snapped open and he found himself staring down the barrel of a pistol.
Fleur.
His gaze slowly rose to meet hers. As if spellbound, Fleur gazed back at him. Reed pushed the pistol aside. A smile in his voice, he said, “Be careful with that; it might go off.”
Fleur gasped and released her grip on the pistol. “Reed! What are you doing here?”
Reed rose, took the pistol and candle from her hands, and set them on a side table. “Do you think I’d let anyone else come for you?”
A tremor ran through her. “How did you know?”
“Porter told me you were in danger and that it was time for you to leave.”
Fleur stared at Reed as if he were an apparition. “I never expected to see you again.”
“Are you sorry?”
“Sorry? No, how could I be?
“It was foolish and dangerous of you to return to Devil’s Chateau,” Reed scolded. “You tempted fate one time too many.”
“I intended to leave after rescuing Doctor Leclair. I knew how much he helped you and wanted to get him out of there for you. And I succeeded.”
“While I appreciate what you did for the good doctor, placing yourself in danger was foolish.”
As if in defiance of his words, Reed’s arms went around her, pulling her against his hard body. His lips came down on hers. Fleur felt as if she were sliding into an inferno, one she had never expected to feel again. His heat enveloped her thinly clad body; passion soared between them. It had always been like this with Reed, tense and volatile.
Reed’s hands slid through her hair, loosening her braid and sending a shiny mass of black curls tumbling over her shoulders. He plunged his fingers through the silken strands, holding her head steady while he plundered her mouth. Fleur flung her arms around his neck, clinging to him fiercely, returning his kiss with every ounce of fervor she possessed.
Fleur broke off the kiss. “Not here.” Grasping his hand, she led him down the dark hallway to her bedchamber. Once inside, they began tugging haphazardly at their clothes, turning and twisting in a dance of uninhibited desire.
He watched her with heavy-lidded eyes as she unbuttoned his jacket and pulled it down his arms. Reed drew off her dressing gown and tugged at the ribbon closing the neckline of her nightgown. It slid down her arms; she shrugged and it slid down her hips to puddle around her feet.
Fleur waited impatiently while Reed finished undressing. By the light from the dying fire, she studied his nude form.
“You’ve gained weight,” she said, eyeing him with an assessing look.
“I’m nearly back to where I was before my imprisonment.”
Reaching out, she ran her hand along the muscles of his upper body, enjoying the feel of his lightly furred chest. “I imagined how you would look once you regained your health and strength, and now I know. You’re magnificent.”
He looked into her eyes then, and Fleur saw desire flare in their silver depths, burning hotter than any fire. She shivered, unable to look away.
“I have lain awake thinking about making love to you every night since I left France. I’ve missed you, Fleur.”
Fleur’s breath hitched, then came out in a long sigh. “I’ve missed you too.”
Slowly he slid his hands down her arms, his eyes lingering caressingly on her breasts. His fingers followed the direction of his eyes, lightly brushing over the lush curves. “You’re more beautiful than I remembered.”
Her nipples tightened in response, growing harder with each touch, each clever movement of his fingers. It seemed like forever since she had felt Reed’s hands upon her. When he cupped her breasts in his hands, his thumbs stroking over her nipples, her body thrummed with pleasure.
Bending down, he kissed the tender curve of each breast, and then his mouth found her nipple, suckling her, arousing her until her knees trembled. As his mouth moved from nipple to nipple, she wanted it to go on forever, but she wanted him inside her more. She wanted everything, all of him at once, easing the ache inside her that his departure had left.
As if aware of her need, he eased a hand between her legs, separating and caressing. She moaned, moving against him in response. “Take me to bed,” she gasped against his ear.
His reply was to scoop her into his arms and carry her to the bed. He lowered her onto the mattress and followed her down, his body covering hers. At the touch of his flesh, she arched up, pressing her hips against his. She felt his rigid sex throbbing against her stomach. She opened her legs and invited him inside.
“Not yet,” Reed said as he scooted down her body, his mouth poised over the wet heat between her thighs. Then he lowered his head and tasted her.
A moan ripped through her, turning her core to molten fire. Hunger for this man gathered hot and deep inside her, then shot like a lightning bolt through her body. She wound her fingers in his hair, holding him against her as she writhed beneath the wet lash of his tongue. She gave herself up to his passionate onslaught, surrendering willingly, eagerly to the power and strength of his body and her own desire.
“Reed!” His n
ame was torn from her throat as he thrust his tongue inside her. When his thumb found the swollen bud above her cleft, she exploded. He crawled upward immediately, covering her mouth with his to catch and muffle her cries.
Fleur tasted herself on his tongue, mingled with his own special taste and scent. She climaxed again and again, until she had nothing more to give. Or so she thought until Reed lifted her knees, spread them and thrust his throbbing sex into her quivering center. Her muscles clenched around him.
Reed was so hard he ached. When he finally entered her, his relief was so immense he nearly ended it then and there. But he held on, determined to bring Fleur to the pinnacle again before he allowed himself the release he craved. He hadn’t had a woman since Fleur; hadn’t wanted one. But now she was beneath him and he wanted the pleasure to go on and on.
But as with all things, it had to end. He held on long enough to feel her fingers dig into his back, hear her call out his name as she reached that wondrous place where only lovers dwelt. And then he joined her, soaring to the skies as he emptied himself inside her.
Bloody hell, how could he have lived this long without truly understanding how deeply the bond of mutual desire could affect him? Or was it more than desire he felt for Fleur? He pushed aside the answer as he collapsed beside her, the air forced from his lungs in breathless gasps.
“God, I missed you,” he said when his heart slowed to its normal beat.
Fleur turned toward him, resting her hand on his cheek. “I find that hard to believe. London must be filled with women eager to wed an earl.”
“Indeed, but I find myself bored with the lot of them. I used every trick I knew to avoid marriage-minded mamas. Although I must admit, Grandmamma isn’t happy with me. She is eager for me to provide an heir to the earldom.”
Fleur turned away, well aware that she could never give Reed the heir he needed. Bearing Reed’s children was not in her future. She was barren.
Reed cursed, realizing why Fleur had suddenly gone quiet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He turned her around to face him.