“A kernel of truth?” Henry spat out. His fisted hands tightened until his knuckles were bright, bloodless white. “I don’t understand you, Lucas! How you can believe that woman?”
“That woman,” Lucas said softly, fighting to maintain calm despite the fact that he was starting to resent Henry’s tone, “is no fool.”
Henry stared at him. “Are you letting your mind lead you, Lucas? Or something else?”
“What?” Lucas’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“I don’t judge you for wanting her. She has a certain air about her that is undoubtedly pleasing, but I’ve never known you to let desire blind you. I hope you’re not doing that now!”
Lucas bit his lip and slowly counted to ten. He would not react to that barb. He would not give in to his natural inclination, which was to defend himself.
“You know me better than that, don’t you, Henry?”
Henry gave a noncommittal shrug before he began to roll his chair backward and turn it toward the door. “I don’t know what to believe after hearing this nonsense. But I know you must ready yourself to meet Lady Whittig and go to General Mathison’s soirée tonight. I think it’s best if I leave you to it.” He looked at Lucas over his shoulder as he opened the door. “I truly hope you reconsider where your loyalties lie, my friend. I’d hate to see you throw away your friendships over a piece of skirt.”
Before Lucas could respond, Henry rolled away and left him alone. Lucas threw himself back into his chair with a groan. Henry’s anger troubled him, as did his charge that Lucas was being lead by desire, not truth. Considering the fact that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about sinking into Ana’s body since the night before, he feared that barb might be right.
But what was even more troubling than that was the fact that he hadn’t actually told Henry the whole truth. He had withheld Ana’s assertion that Henry could be the one behind the attacks.
And as much as he wanted to tell himself that he’d kept that fact a secret just to protect his friend from being torn apart by the idea, there was more to it.
Ana had succeeded in creating doubt. And the more he realized that, the bigger the doubt grew. Doubt in his best friend. Doubt in himself.
And he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.
Ana drew in a few deep, calming breaths. She needed to be focused, composed before she opened the parlor door. Lucas was there waiting on the other side and the last thing she desired was for him to see how torn apart she’d been all day.
She could have no reaction when she saw him. Give away no information that he could twist and use against her.
With a final breath, she went into the room. Lucas was sitting in a chair facing the doorway, and as she entered, he rose to his feet in a slow, cold unfolding that made her all the more aware of the strength in his body.
It also made all her good intentions of keeping emotion from her face fly out the parlor window. She couldn’t help but draw in a harsh breath at the sight of him. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been wearing far less.
The thought brought a fresh wash of need through her. The desire was as demanding and overwhelming as it had been the night before. Perhaps more intense, in fact, because now she knew what it would be like to surrender to his demands. To give and take pleasure in his arms.
Wanting that made her feel desperate and achy. And from the stern, cool expression on his face, he felt nothing of the same. Which meant he had the upper hand.
Again.
“Good evening,” she said.
He nodded once before he returned to his seat. She sighed. So he was still angry at her.
“Since we have a little time before we’re expected at the General’s, would you like a drink?”
“God, yes,” he muttered.
She sighed. It was going to be a long evening if this is how he intended to behave. No, it was better this way. If he no longer pursued her, if he only showed her chilly courtesy, it would be easier to concentrate on their case. After all, she didn’t want to be caught up in desire or emotion or any other troubling feelings he caused.
She just wanted to discover who was behind the attack on Emily. She didn’t want Lucas.
She splashed a bit of sherry in two tumblers and turned to offer him one. His fingers brushed hers as he took the glass and her knees actually went weak for a brief, powerful moment.
So, she wanted him. But want and need were two different concepts. She just had to control the desire. Push it deep down inside herself and forget it was there.
That seemed impossible right now as she met his stare, but she could do it. She had to.
“Have you thought about last night?” she asked and immediately wished she could take the question back. So much for controlling the wanting.
Lucas’s eyes widened and a little smile tilted one side of his mouth, hinting briefly at the existence of one dimple. “All night, I assure you.”
She scowled. He was taunting her. And her traitorous body was responding to it.
“I meant, did you consider my theory?” She wanted ice to drip from every word, but instead her voice trembled. Blast!
His smile fell, and he took a long sip of his drink. “Yes, I thought about that. But my response hasn’t changed. I agree with you that there is a possibility someone inside the War Department could be involved in the attacks. But I refuse to believe Henry could be the one. There is just too much evidence to the contrary.”
She sighed. “Because he was shot?”
Lucas flinched before he nodded once.
“That would be the most convenient cover, wouldn’t it?” she pressed, with the full knowledge that she was treading in dangerous waters. Lucas’s glare confirmed that fact. “His injury would naturally take suspicion off of him.”
The glare sparked with anger, and Lucas got to his feet and slammed his drink down.
“Are you implying he wasn’t really hurt?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “Because I was there. I felt his blood, I heard his pain. He was injured that night, Anastasia.”
“I don’t disagree with that fact.” She made her tone softer to counteract his anger. “I’m only saying that his injury shouldn’t automatically remove him from suspicion.”
Lucas froze, his face twisting as he tried to find an argument. But there was none. Her heart went out to him. Despite his protests, his denials, he was a good spy. She could see he had been analyzing the evidence she presented the night before, turning it over in his head.
And it tore him up inside. Her anger toward him and his callous dismissals melted a fraction.
She reached for him, but just as he had before, he pulled away.
“It’s time to go, Ana,” he snapped as he walked past her to the door.
She let a long sigh escape her lips as she followed him out. Her heart stung even though she fought the feeling. It shouldn’t matter how far Lucas pushed her away.
But it did. And she could no longer deny that fact.
The carriage rocked as it pulled around a corner. Ana shifted slightly, drawing Lucas’s attention away from the window and toward her. Not that he hadn’t been utterly aware of her the entire ride.
It was impossible not to be aware of her. He could smell that erotic combination of gardenia and jasmine even from across the carriage seat. And though the light in the carriage was dim, there was enough to see the lines of Ana’s face.
Enough to be entirely captivated by every shift in her expression, every hitch of her breath. She was holding tension in every part of her body and had been since they left her home less than a quarter of an hour before, leaving him to imagine all the wicked ways he could relieve that anxiety.
But there was so much between them at present. Their argument earlier had proven that. There was the little matter that she suspected his best friend of vile treason.
Oh, and the fact that despite how angry and frustrated he was, he still wanted to peel her gown off and take her right there on the carriage seat
. But he didn’t. Mostly because her claim that the night before had been a “mistake” still rang in his ears.
It was a mistake he wanted to repeat again and again, all her harsh denials be damned.
Ana’s gaze moved to his, and he realized he was staring at her. Their eyes locked, and a long moment passed between them in the painful silence of the carriage. He couldn’t tell what thoughts were in her head. Her skills at hiding her emotions were improving. That should have been a satisfaction to him…her openness could get her killed.
But instead he wished he could get a peek at what she thought when she stared at him with such focused intent.
Before he could ask…or worse, act on the wicked fantasies that played on the edges of his sanity, the carriage pulled to a stop. Her eyes still didn’t leave his, and he couldn’t seem to bring himself to look away.
Instead, he reached out and caught the door latch, holding it shut so that when the footman stepped up and began to pull it open, he was inhibited and immediately stopped trying to enter.
Ana’s eyes widened and her breath caught. “Lucas…”
His eyes shut, and he held back a curse at the sound of her breathing his name out like a prayer. The wanting had never been so powerful with any other woman before. Just hearing her voice was enough to get him ready. How the hell had this happened with her, of all the women in the world?
With difficulty, he cleared his swimming head.
“I hope you will be able to work tonight.” His voice sounded rough with desire.
Her eyes narrowed, and a flash of bright, emotional fury lit up and made them sparkle with a life she often hid behind the shield of her spectacles or widow’s weeds. It was a pleasure to see her awakening, despite the fact that her anger was directed toward him.
“I am not the one with a problem,” she ground out. “If you believe we won’t be able to work together because of a—a—” She hesitated and he knew she was thinking about the night before. Pink tinged her cheeks before she continued. “Because we had a disagreement, then you are the one who should reconsider your abilities.”
She pushed his hand away from the carriage door and turned the handle.
“Because I know what my duty is.”
Then she took the footman’s waiting hand and stepped outside into the night.
Chapter 16
I f he wouldn’t look at her, she certainly didn’t have to look at him. Ana folded her arms and pointedly looked away from where Lucas was standing at the edge of the ballroom talking to a gentleman she didn’t recognize. It was childish reaction and one she wasn’t proud of, but right now her emotions seemed to be leading her behavior.
Growling out her dissatisfaction with herself, she returned her focus to the ballroom. It was quite a crush tonight. General Mathison was a highly decorated soldier who had come home to great acclaim and married a well-born lady. He was the current toast of the ton, which meant every important person wanted to align themselves with him.
Including Lord Sansbury, who was currently dancing with a young lady. Ana rolled her eyes. Despite the fact that she didn’t particularly like Sansbury after he outed the secret of her first kiss with Lucas, she had lingering doubts about his involvement in this case. Looking at him with his vapid smile, she doubted he was mastermind material, though she could be wrong. After all, she’d thought the spy they’d watched in the park was a fool, too.
And Lucas was insistent, plus the information Henry kept providing to them boosted the case against Sansbury. Which only served to make Ana all the more suspicious of Henry. It seemed mightily convenient that he kept decoding information that pointed straight to the loose-lipped dandy. Especially since she had not been allowed to view the encoded evidence herself.
Her head spun. She looked away from their suspect to find herself locking eyes with Lucas’s mother. Lady Dannington waved, and she lifted her own hand in greeting. She just hoped she would not be trapped into conversation with the woman a second time. She’d talked with her for over half an hour upon their arrival and every moment was torture. Not because she didn’t care for her ladyship’s company. On the contrary, she already felt a strong kinship toward the woman. But because Ana knew Lucas’s mother was heading for a disappointment. When this case was over, when this “engagement” was quietly ended…his entire family would be hurt.
She hated that.
Lady Dannington’s smile suddenly broadened and Ana looked instinctively to her right to see Lucas crossing the room toward her in long, purposeful steps. To anyone else’s eyes, he certainly looked like a man off for a moment with the woman he loved. Everything about him screamed that he was staking a claim. Her heart leapt at the sight, despite the fact that this was all part of some formula he had been repeating all night.
They would dance. He’d hold her close and smile at her as he looked into her eyes. Then he would walk away and not spare her a glance for three or four dances. He spent exactly enough time with her to ensure the world believed their farce, no more.
It was becoming so frustrating that she fought the urge to turn on her heel and publicly refuse him.
“Ready?” he asked with a smile that didn’t even come close to lighting up his gray eyes.
She took his arm with a sigh. “My, you are a romantic, aren’t you?”
He took a position in the line of dancers across from her. At least this was a country dance, so she wouldn’t have to press against him as she had when the waltz played.
“My lady,” he purred as they moved together and touched hands. “Is it romance you desire from me?”
She bit her lip as they moved apart. She turned around the gentleman beside her, moved as she was supposed to do, but her mind was anywhere but in the steps she was performing. Insolent man.
They came back together and Lucas was smirking. She glared at him briefly before she forced her face into a more polite and warm expression. “Of course not.”
His grin tilted up. “And what is it you do desire?”
As they parted a second time, Ana sighed. He did delight in tormenting her, that was clear. The worst part was that his questions were exactly the same as the ones she’d been asking herself since they made love. How could she have let things go so far?
And why, as their fingers brushed a third time while they moved down the line, did her body ache to do it all again?
She refused to meet his gaze, instead looking into the crowd behind him. She found Lord Sansbury in a group of gentlemen, but he didn’t appear to be paying much attention to the buzzing soirée. In fact, he continually looked to the grandfather clock near the terrace doors.
Her brow furrowed. There was something very strange in his demeanor. Like he was nervous. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him like that before.
“Look at Sansbury when you make the next turn,” she whispered. “He is by the middle terrace door on the south side of the ballroom.”
The teasing, testing light in Lucas’s stare dissipated, and his face hardened. The rogue was gone, the spy was back. The shift was so subtle, she never should have seen it, but she was so damned aware of Lucas’s every affectation that she couldn’t avoid noticing the switch.
He glanced at the door as he made an elaborate turn, and his eyes narrowed. She followed his gaze as she moved back into place in line. Sansbury was moving toward the terrace. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder before he exited. Her heart began to race.
Lucas met her stare, his mouth in a thin line. “We’ll follow when the music ends.”
She nodded, quickly counting off the beats. The orchestra was playing a popular song and it had two movements left. The time that passed during those movements could be crucial. They needed to get out of the ballroom.
Now.
She drew in a sharp breath as she stepped out. The moment she set her slipper down, she wrenched her ankle to the side and went down with a gasp.
Immediately, the other women in the line rushed for her as Lucas went down on
one knee.
“Are you all right, my dear?” one woman said as Lucas slipped a hand under her elbow. He met her eyes and she saw his fleeting smile.
“Yes,” she said with a pretend wince. “Oh, how silly. I’ve twisted my ankle that is all.”
Lucas tilted his head with the perfect amount of concern. “Let me help you, darling.”
She slipped her arm through his and leaned against him, painfully aware of his body heat through his woolen coat.
“If I walk a bit, it might help,” she said. “Will you take me for a turn about the garden?”
He nodded as the crowd began to pull back. “Of course.”
“I’m very sorry,” she called out as the dancers reformed their lines, and the orchestra picked up the song where they had left off. The crowd murmured as they passed through, but her smiles and assurances that she was quite all right seemed to soothe them. She even overheard a group of ladies whispering about Lucas’s attentiveness.
Perfect.
He pushed the terrace doors open, and they moved out into the cooler night air. Quickly, she scanned the area, but Sansbury was not to be found.
“The garden,” Lucas said, but they moved slowly. They were still close enough to the house that she exaggerated a limp just in case. But as they moved down the terrace stairs and began to weave their way down the garden pathways, she let the limp fade.
“That was quick thinking,” Lucas said as they hurried along the trail that was lit by fancy, Oriental lanterns inspired by the Far East where the General had been stationed. “You saved us some time.”
She shrugged, though his compliment warmed her. “We needed to follow.”
“Look,” Lucas’s voice dropped to a sharp whisper as he pulled her down slightly and pointed ahead of them. Sansbury was moving away from the path at a fast pace, heading toward a small gazebo in the distance.
They followed, staying low behind the line of shrubs. When they reached the area behind the little building, Lucas dropped down even lower and began to make his way through the bushes, darting left and right until he found a spot less than ten feet from the enclosure. Ana drew in a harsh breath, prayed she wouldn’t be seen in her light-colored gown, and started to move, following the path he’d taken until she reached his side.
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