A panting Henrietta pleaded with him in a low, guttural voice. Close to the edge, she made mewing sounds that pushed him close to losing control.
“Darling, let yourself go. I’ll catch you.” He rubbed her nub with his thumb as he kept the rhythm of his two fingers.
“Cord, Oh, Cord.” Her voice filled with wonder.
He could feel her spasm around his fingers when she found her release. Her whole body trembled against him. She was magnificent. She continued to shudder. He kissed her gently on the forehead and cheeks, trying to restrain himself from plunging into her warmth.
“Cord, I need you.”
“Darling, let me take off my breeches.” He jumped off the bed and quickly stripped off his pants.
Henrietta giggled. But when she looked down on his jutting erection, her eyes grew round. “Oh, my.”
He couldn’t help but be pleased by her astonishment. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know you’ll be gentle.”
He lowered himself on top of her, holding all of his own weight with his arms. Nestled between her thighs, he slowly entered her. She was wet and tight and he was having difficulty moving carefully when he wanted to thrust and thrust until she screamed his name.
“You’re perfect, Henrietta.” He pushed forward until he felt the resistance. “I’m sorry, darling.” He broke through the barrier.
Her hands tightened on his neck, her breathing hitched.
“Are you okay?” His voice was rough, but he was hanging on to his control by a thin, very thin thread.
“I’m fine, really.”
Recovering from whatever discomfort she had initially experienced, she moved against him, against his slow, cautious pace. He kept a gentle rhythm until she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him into her passionate vortex. Her need drove them to a frenzied pace.
When he felt her spasm around him, he spilled his seed in one powerful plunge.
Breathless, they gazed into each other’s eyes, both shocked by their intense lovemaking.
“I had no idea.” Her hair was disheveled, her lips swollen, her eyes soft with passion from their lovemaking.
“Me either.” He kissed her gently on the lips then her chin and neck. He worked his way toward her earlobe when he felt her body relaxing. “And what a delicious surprise you are.”
“Oh, Cord, you were perfect, too,” was the last thing she said before she fell asleep.
He shifted to his side on the bed next to her. Her breathing slowed as she snuggled deeper then turned on her side, her round bottom pressed against him. He wrapped his arm around her bandaged chest and pulled her closer. She was a perfect fit. He explored the smooth skin on the curve of her hip. He wanted to suck on the indentation of her soft, womanly curves.
She sighed and moved closer to him, against his hardening erection.
He couldn’t believe his response to this woman. He had just experienced an extraordinary orgasm and was ready again. He wouldn’t act on his burning need, because she was tired and would be sore but these gentlemanly thoughts didn’t lessen his bodily hunger. He stroked her hips, wanting her.
“I love you Henrietta Harcourt. Tomorrow I’m getting a special license and a ring. You can’t escape me again.”
Her response was a snuffle.
He didn’t want to leave her yet, but he didn’t want his aunt to find them. He wouldn’t embarrass Henrietta or his aunt. He needed sleep. He hadn’t slept for two nights. Hopefully, Ash had spread the rumors at Matilde Bertram’s ball tonight that Isabelle’s murder was the work of a crazed past lover.
He ran his hand down her smooth hip one last time and, unable to resist, cupped her soft buttocks. His probing finger sought the tempting fissure between the shapely globes, insinuated into the warm moist area. Henrietta moaned and moved against him in her sleep. He couldn’t begin anything, but he was having difficulty resisting his need to be back in her welcoming body.
Henrietta was the only person in his entire life who had been able to distract him from his objective. He had come to her room to obtain the codebook or at least that was what he told himself. He had really come for a good fight with the code-breaking hellion.
Finally their fighting had ended in the way he had fantasized. Would Henrietta understand that their skirmishing and sparring had been the fire of their passion?
He should have gotten the codebook from her before she fell asleep. His future wife would bristle at the invasion if he took it out of her reticule while she slept. Not the way to begin their marriage. She and the codebook were safe in his house. She couldn’t get into any trouble when he went to the offices at Abchurch. He’d be back by the time she awoke.
He bent over to kiss her one last time. She slept soundly and didn’t stir when he pulled the heavy covers over her. He would keep the new Countess of Rathbourne too busy in bed to have time for meeting spies in Hyde Park.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Henrietta longed to sustain the dream. Her body was relaxed, languorous, heat radiated between her legs. She reached for Cord, but he faded out of her embrace.
She stretched under the sheets, not wanting her dream to end. Memories from last night surged into her consciousness. Last night wasn’t a dream. She and Cord had made love. Cord had been all she imagined as a passionate and tender lover. She rolled over to touch him, but found instead a cold, creased sheet.
On the periphery of her awareness someone pounded on the door.
Where was Cord? The knocking persisted. She pulled herself to a sitting position and winced at the tug of pain from her ribs.
“Lady Henrietta, I must speak with you.” Brompton spoke through the door.
Her heart fluttered and her stomach clenched in fear. Brompton’s unexpected appearance at Rathbourne House could only mean one thing. Uncle Charles was in trouble. Henrietta pulled the covers up to her neck, hiding her nakedness. “Come in, Brompton. What’s happened?”
A flushed maid opened the door to the bedroom.
Brompton didn’t enter the room but stood at the doorway. “Edward is missing.”
Her brain went numb. How could Edward go missing? She struggled to understand. Edward was never alone. Gus and Mr. Marlow were his constant companions.
“How?” Her voice echoed in her head, as if she stood at the end of a long tunnel.
“He and Mr. Marlow went to the Serpentine to sail boats. Edward had run to retrieve his boat in the wooded area that skirts the lake. After a few minutes when Edward didn’t return, Mr. Marlow went into the woods to look for him. He searched everywhere but Edward had disappeared without a trace.”
Brompton stared at his feet after his speech, aware of her state of dishabille and this irregular circumstance. “Mr. Marlow took Gus back to the woods to see if he can lead him to Edward. And I’ve come straight here.”
“I must get home.” She pulled the counterpane around her and stood, oblivious to her shocking lack of propriety. Edward… She couldn’t allow herself to think about her sweet, baby brother. She needed to do something.
“Brompton, go downstairs and find Lord Rathbourne. I must speak with him.”
She dressed quickly and strode down the stairs. The pain in her ribs now a minor irritation. She and Cord would find Edward. Cord would know what to do with the codebook to end the threats to her family.
Brompton and Sloane were at the bottom of the stairs. They stood silent when she descended.
“Lady Henrietta.” Brompton moved forward. “Lord Rathbourne isn’t in residence. Sloane will send an urgent message to Hyde Park and his office.”
“Is Lady Euphemia at home?” She asked.
“I’m sorry. Both ladies have gone on their social visits. I cannot say when they will return,” Sloane said.
“Tell Lord Rathbourne to meet me immediately at Kendal House. Tell him my brother has been kidnapped.” Her voice choked around the words.
Brompton gently took her arm. “Come, Lady Henrietta, let’s go home. With
Tom and Mr. Marlow out searching for him, perhaps we’ll have word by the time we get home.”
Henrietta rode in silence to Kendal House. Her heart thumped, her mouth was dry, and she had an incredible burst of energy surging through her body. She needed to control the urge to panic or she be of no help to Edward.
She had to use her highly developed skills of deduction to find Edward’s abductor. The men who killed Isabelle had taken Edward to obtain the codebook. There was no other reasonable conclusion. She would give them the damn codebook. She would give them anything to save her brother.
When she arrived at Kendal House, Mrs. Brompton rushed out, her arms open.
“Oh, my poor lamb. How could this happen?” She folded Henrietta in her beefy arms. “We’ll find him. Don’t worry.”
Henrietta paused for a brief moment in the warm embrace, then summoned her strength to pull away. “Any word from Tom and Mr. Marlow? Any messages?”
“No messages and nothing from Tom or Mr. Marlow, but I expect them soon. Shall I get you tea?”
“What have you told Uncle Charles?”
“I’ve told him nothing. He’s been in the study all morning. I thought it best for you to decide.”
“I believe that without answers, it’s best to not to tell him.” Her voice got wobbly. She couldn’t bear to think of Uncle Charles’ reaction to Edward’s disappearance. The boy and her uncle were inseparable.
She climbed the stairs. Her terror for her younger brother, alone and frightened, grew with each step.
Brompton spoke from the foyer, his voice excited. “Lady Henrietta, a note has come for you. It was brought ’round to the servant’s entrance by a street urchin.”
She turned and descended quickly. Tearing at the seal, she read the note. In exchange for the codebook, Edward would be returned.
She didn’t know if she could face this new threat alone. The remembrance of Cord’s tender lovemaking bolstered her resolve. She wasn’t alone. Cord would help her rescue Edward. “I must go immediately. Bring Minotaur around.”
“Please let me go with you or at least wait until Tom can accompany you.”
“No, Brompton, I must go alone. The note is very clear. And time is of the essence.”
“Come alone, don’t tell anyone…” Exactly like the message from Isabelle.
With a false bravado, she instructed Brompton as if she were in control, not seconds away from shattering. “When Lord Rathbourne arrives, give him the note. Tell him I’ve gone to the boathouse at the Serpentine.”
Henrietta hurried to her room and retrieved her uncle’s pistol.
Returning downstairs again, she mounted her horse and galloped toward Hyde Park. She nudged Minotaur between two wagons at a busy intersection, teeming with the daily business of keeping the great houses of Mayfair functioning.
She needed to stay focused on the task at hand, armed with the codebooks, a loaded pistol, and a very shaky plan to face a murderer. Her plan was simple: negotiate, give him the codebook, and pray until Cord arrived to deal with the murderer. If Cord didn’t arrive in time, what would she do? There was no question in her mind that she would save Edward, no matter what the cost. She wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her brother. She looked back at the busy crossroad, wondering if the enemy shadowed her.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Henrietta entered the Curzon Gate, following the same route she had taken to meet Isabelle. Hyde Park was busy with the daily parade of fashionable people, here despite the gloomy skies of an approaching storm. How strange to have daily routines continue as her deadly drama unfolded.
She pointed Minotaur to the north side of the lake. Black angry clouds gathered portending a downpour. She shivered in the chilly air and in apprehension. The meeting was at the public boathouse in the middle of the day. Why hadn’t anyone seen Edward’s abduction?
She slowed her pace when she approached the decrepit wood cabin where the boats were stored. Birdsong lightened the heavy silence. She pulled Minotaur to the mounting block and dismounted. She patted the pistol again—she knew it was dangerous to have a loaded pistol tucked into her riding skirt, but so was this entire enterprise.
The place looked deserted—no boaters, no attendants. The door to the boathouse was ajar. She glanced behind her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone followed, watching her every move. She pushed the heavy door farther open. It creaked when she put her weight to it. Fear surged through her like a brush fire.
“Come in, Henrietta. I’ve been waiting for you,” The Duke of Wycliffe said.
She couldn’t believe a man of his position was a traitor or would kidnap her brother.
He remained obscured in the shadows. The room smelled of mustiness and the mold of wet cushions.
She stepped farther into the boathouse, her thundering heart the only sound in the small space. A cracked, dusty window gave scant light. She was shocked by the changes in him since the ball. He was dirty and disheveled. But more ominously, he was desperate and dangerous. She could smell his anxiety. His pupils were dilated as if he burned with a fever.
“Ah, I see you’re surprised. I wondered if you or Rathbourne had guessed my role in this intrigue. I’ve overestimated both of you.” His laugh echoed in the void. “Who could imagine your scholarly brother could create such a crisis? Did you bring the damn book?”
“Where is Edward? I won’t give you the book until you release Edward.”
He stepped closer to her in the dim light. The shadows contorted his agitation, his once handsome face now grotesque. “My darling Henrietta.” He lifted her chin with one icy finger. “So fierce. I regret that I didn’t seduce you when I had the chance.”
She gasped and pulled away. “Where have you taken Edward? Give me my brother and I’ll give you the book.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her against his clammy body. “You believe you can barter with me?” His putrid breath blew across her face. He cupped her breast tightly. “So sweet.”
Outrage coursed through her body. “Stop it. Where is my brother?”
Beads of perspiration beat down his forehead. “Haven’t you heard what happened to Isabelle? She failed me.” He paused, letting his words take effect.
“I’ll give you whatever you want, but let my brother go.” She spoke calmly, not wanting to further bait him.
“The day grows more interesting,” His tone became menacing. “Give me the book, and I’ll consider your fate and that of your brother.”
“I have it right here.” She reached slowly into her reticule. “Yes, right here,” she mumbled, trying to delay him.
He grabbed the purse out of her hands. “What plan are you concocting in that clever brain?” He opened the bag and took out the book. He threw the empty reticule back at her.
“What will you do with the book?” she asked.
“Not decipher secret messages, if that’s what you think.” His laugh was harsh.
He pulled out his pistol and waved it at her. “Enough idle chatter. It’s time.”
“Edward! Where is he?” Primal fear blasted through body.
“Did you notice the boat? You’re going to be joining your brother.”
She froze in panic, her knees locked. Had he drowned Edward? She mustn’t give in to the fear if there was a chance to save Edward.
He pressed the gun to her back. “No tricks or you’ll never see your brother.”
Henrietta moved slowly, weighing her options as her heart beat a frenzied tattoo. She knew she must play along until she found Edward then she would use the gun in her pocket.
He thrust the gun into her back. “Keep going.”
She moved outside, surveying the bushes. Where was Cord?
A ferocious sound pierced the silent woods, then a blur of yellow fur catapulted through the air. The impact of the four-stone dog aiming straight at his chest, knocked the Duke of Wycliffe to the ground. He dropped his gun.
Henrietta seized the pistol and pointed it at the pron
e man.
Gus had his paws on the duke’s chest, his sharp canines bared. She was grateful for Gus’ growl and intimidating posture. “Good boy, Gus.”
“Henrietta?” Cord ran down the path toward the bathhouse. “Thank God.”
She wanted to run into Cord’s arms but kept her position over the duke. Her nervousness caused her to chatter. “He killed Isabelle. He has Edward hidden. I was to go with him by boat.”
Cord took the pistol out of her hand, kicked Wycliffe with the toe of his boot. “Get up.”
Wycliffe stood, brushing the dirt from his breeches.
Gus sat next to Henrietta and began a slow, insistent whine. She patted the broad head of the dog. “It’s okay. We’ll find Edward.”
Wycliffe sneered. “Rathbourne, I’m sorry you had to discover our little tête-à-tête. But let me assure you, Henrietta was pleased with me.”
Cord lashed out and smashed the duke in the face. There was a cracking sound of breaking bones.
Wycliffe fell sideways and reached down to pull a knife from his boot. “I’m going to kill you.” He plunged the dagger at Cord.
Henrietta pulled her pistol out of her pocket and tried to take aim. She couldn’t get a clean shot off without possibly hitting Cord.
Parrying the duke’s thrust, Cord dodged the knife. Wycliffe lunged forward, the knife pointed at Cord’s heart. Gus lowered himself to the ground ready to attack Wycliffe. She grabbed him by the collar to prevent him from getting caught in the fight. She kept her gun aimed on the fighting men with one hand while her other hand held Gus in place.
Cord leaned backward, barely avoiding the knife aimed at his chest. He twisted his torso, kicking the knife out of Wycliffe’s hand with a swift jerk. He pulled the hammer back on the duke’s pistol and aimed at Wycliffe’s chest.
“Cord, don’t kill him. He has Edward.”
Cord barked. “Get away from here, Henrietta.”
There was a rustle of noise from the bushes. “I’m sorry to interrupt the fun.”
A Code of Love (The Code Breakers 1) Page 21