Spyfall

by Carter, Elizabeth Ellen

  She surrendered to the sensation, a restless yearning of desire she could no longer ignore.

  Surrendered but liberated, free to enjoy Nate’s touch, knowing that she was safe, cherished, desired.

  “Make love to me,” she breathed.

  “Whatever the lady wishes…” Nate’s voice rumbled, sending a line of gooseflesh down her arms and then her legs. She could not hold back the sigh.

  She picked up the mischievous note in his voice. She turned in his arms and pressed herself against him. Oh, how she wanted him and, judging what she could feel pressed against her, he was equally ready.

  She felt like a virgin bride, newly awakened to sensual pleasures. There was no “before”, there was only now. There was only this man.

  Once again, she reached up to touch him, his face, his lips, the jet black hair so thick between her fingers. She expected him to kiss her again, but he didn’t. It was hard to tell what he was thinking beneath those hooded eyes.

  But they never left hers as he scooped her into his arms.

  Nate used his foot to swing the door to her private quarters open wide and strode through the parlor and into her bedroom. She thought he might lay her on the bed and, in truth, that was what she wanted – that he would take control while she was carried away on the tide of passion.

  Instead, he lowered her gently to her feet beside the bed and looked at her intently.

  “Don’t close your eyes,” he said. “I want you to see me. When I touch you, I want you to know it’s me who holds you. New memories, Susannah – lasting memories for both of us. There is no space for past memories or regrets between us.”

  To say anything would force her to conquer the lump in her throat and she would not allow there to be any misunderstandings. She decided words were not needed.

  She removed her pelisse and laid it over the bed then reached behind to undo the buttons at the back of her pink gown before pulling it up over her head. Layer by layer, she removed her garments in an unhurried manner, but not with a courtesan’s coquetry – rather a deliberate, matter-of-fact undressing until she stood before him naked wearing nothing but stockings in deference to the chill in the air.

  As he had asked, she had kept her eyes on him and, although she was the one now naked while he was fully dressed, he seemed more nervous than she. His eyes flickered over her body and any shyness or unease she felt being so exposed was conquered by what she saw in his eyes. There was lust there, to be sure, but it was leavened by tenderness.

  He took half a step toward her and stopped when she shuddered, but he rightly apprehended the cause of it.

  He reached past her to pull back the covers.

  “Get into bed, my love,” he said. “I’ll set a fire.”

  She did so and drew the covers up to her shoulders. The touch of chilled sheets on her skin heightened her awareness of her body, the weight of the blankets covered her body like a caress. She rolled onto her side and watched him at the grate, raking aside the ashes of the morning’s fire and arranging fresh kindling and coal. He had removed his blue coat and the cream shirt he wore stretched tight against his shoulders as he lit a spill of paper and applied it to the kindling.

  As though aware she watched, he glanced back toward her and smiled just as the life blew into the makings of the fire. The little flickering flames of the kindling brought light as well as warmth.

  Nate set a couple of lamps but, instead of wicking them low, he kept the flame high, filling the room with light.

  A rush of heat surged through her veins as she realized why. He intended to make love to her in the light.

  He began to slowly undress. Every item of clothing that was removed revealed something more of him, faint scars here and there on his arms, the patch of hair on his chest, the strong muscular legs and buttocks as he removed his breeches and underclothes.

  Then he stood to face her.

  Oh my!

  The evidence of his arousal before her was impressive, and Susannah couldn’t help the flush to her cheeks.

  He climbed into the bed beside her. She gravitated to his warmth. He kissed her lips slowly with deliberate intent.

  “Touch me, beloved,” he said. “You trust me with your body, I trust you with mine.”

  So, this was a man in his prime, powerful and strong. Susannah touched him tentatively at first, watching reactions play across his face, growing more confident as his expression was laid bare. He was making himself vulnerable to her. To know how to pleasure him would also be to know how to harm him.

  Her breasts brushed across the hair on his chest and they let out a moan together which mingled in a joint kiss. She was ready. More than ready for him, but he didn’t seem inclined to move from his present prone position.

  Despite having been married for seven years, she knew now how little experience she had, especially with a man who refused to be hurried, as though her pleasure mattered as much as his own.

  Caress met caress. Light touches at first but increasing in urgency as her need for him grew.

  “Join with me,” she breathed.

  “Not yet.”

  His hand fell from her breast and searched lower to find that place between her legs. He circled her sensitive flesh with his thumb over and over, bringing with it a rising tide of arousal. She was helpless against the surge of it. She threw her head back and cried out in pleasure.

  Never had she expected to be overwhelmed by a feeling so powerful.

  Nate touched her cheek.

  “Meurgerys… beloved… open your eyes… look at me.”

  Susannah did and saw tension in jaw and in his eyes as he held himself back, waiting for her reaction.

  “Oh my!”

  He chuckled. “A man likes to hear that he’s doing something right.”

  She rolled until they lay face-to-face. He drew her leg over his. She could feel his hardness rubbing against her most sensitive skin. It was a tease, a hint of more pleasure to come.

  He entered her slowly, achingly slow until she squeezed him with her inner muscles. He closed his eyes and hissed as though burned. She encouraged him with words as he moved within her, terms of endearment, nonsensical words as her pleasure built once more.

  Nate awoke from a light doze, listening to the comforting crackling of the fire. His still healing ankle ached but, in all, he was a very satisfied man. His fingers played with strands of Susannah’s warm brown hair now loose from their confines.

  His contentment was soul-deep, as though at last he had found his true home in the arms of this woman who owned his heart. He turned to look at her. Her eyes were closed but she was wearing a very contented smile.

  “I want us to be wed soon as possible,” he said.

  She opened her eyes; they shone a sapphire blue.

  “A Christmas wedding? I like the sound of that.”

  “I’ll be leaving for France with Adam next week and I’d rather you weren’t here on your own. Come with me to Truro. Stay with Lady Abigail or with Olivia. At least you’ll have some company with someone who understands.”

  She kissed him. “I won’t be on my own. St. Sennen is my home. How much safer could I possibly be than surrounded by all our friends here at The Queen’s Head? Peggy will be back every day and Tressa will be living here in Peggy’s old room. In the meantime, I’m perfectly capable of locking the doors after the last drinker has gone. If it will make you feel better, I’ll ask Sam to stay with me. I’m sure he’ll be happy to give Clem and Peggy the house to themselves, and he’ll get to see Tressa every day. And besides, I’ll have Prince with me.”

  “He isn’t the world’s best guard dog, you know.”

  She smiled in acknowledgement of Prince’s failings. “When are you leaving for Truro?”

  “Next week.”

  “Peggy will be back by then. I’ll come with you and stay for a few days. There are papers I need from my solicitor… my hus… Jack’s death certificate. Reverend Johnston will need to see it before he�
�ll issue the banns.”

  The thought came belatedly to Nate. “St. Sennen will learn your married name.”

  She smiled and touched his cheek.

  “It truly doesn’t matter anymore. It’s only our future that is of consequence.”

  He kissed her again, lavishing kisses around her ear, and he witnessed the delicious shivers down her limbs.

  “I can’t seem to get enough of you, beloved.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Charteris House

  Truro

  Susannah looked around the display of brass lanterns, coils of rope, and lengths of chain as seconds ticked away on the wall of clocks. The place seemed deserted.

  “Are you sure we’re expected?” she asked Nate.

  He winked and walked behind the counter. He reached behind a loosely hung map on the wall and a door-sized panel in the wall hinged outward. He held out his hand to her. She drew near and looked up the stairs, then back at him questioningly.

  He nodded. She shrugged and preceded him up the stairs.

  The funny little shopkeeper with the thick spectacles and another man were hunched over drafting tables, the little man’s face a scant three inches from the paper. But it was the older man at the desk that caught her attention. He was dressed expensively but not foppishly. A gold stick pin studded with a cabochon ruby in his white cravat and a broad gold band on his left ring finger were the only obvious displays of wealth.

  He rose from his desk on seeing them. Susannah immediately bobbed a curtsy, intimidated by the presence the man exuded.

  “Susannah, this is Sir Daniel Ridgeway. Sir Daniel, I have the honor of presenting you with Susannah Linwood… my fiancée.” There was a particular satisfaction in saying that and not a small amount of pride in watching the peer’s face become animated.

  “Your fiancée!” The man now bowed to her. “My dear, a pleasure to meet you. Nate has spoken of you often, and my wife, Abigail, was singularly pleased to make your acquaintance a few weeks ago.”

  Susannah dropped another curtsy. “I’m honored to make your acquaintance, sir. Your wife has been very kind to me.”

  The sunlines around Sir Daniel’s eyes deepened as he smiled. “My wife has a particular interest in creating a rather unique society. I’m glad you elected to join us, Mrs. Linwood.”

  “Please, call me Susannah.”

  Sir Daniel acknowledged the invitation with an incline to his head before reaching forward to shake Nate’s hand.

  “I’m glad you got everything sorted out between you two.”

  “Yes, you were becoming a right pain about it, too,” said the shopkeeper, looking up from his desk with a smirk. “A Payne who’s a pain…”

  Nate bared his teeth and the little man laughed. “And, Susannah, this,” said Nate, gesturing to the man, “is Mr. Bassett. He’s a forger.”

  “A recreator of documents and sourcer of equipage, if you don’t mind, Mr. Payne,” Bassett responded. He approached Susannah and took her hand in both of his. “A delight to make your acquaintance Mrs. Linwood. You are far more than this man deserves.”

  Bassett turned back to Nate with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. After a moment, he held out his hand to him. “In truth, much happiness to you both.”

  “Well, being in this room means you are part of The King’s Rogues inner circle, so I must swear you to absolute secrecy,” said Sir Daniel.

  “I’m afraid it’s too late, Daniel.”

  Everyone turned to the new voice in the room. Lady Abigail had appeared at the top of the stairs and paused in the doorway. “Susannah here has already been inducted into my league.”

  The man tilted his head; a smile played about his lips. “Ah, it’s a league, not a society. Oh well, I know when I am defeated by a superior force.”

  Lady Abigail raised her eyebrows in triumph. She entered the room bringing with her an entourage, Adam and Olivia Hardacre.

  “And did I overhear correctly?” Olivia said to Susannah. “You’re engaged?”

  Susannah nodded, accepted the fulsome congratulations of the Hardacres as well.

  Sir Daniel cleared his throat loudly. “As much as I hate to bring this party to an end,” he announced, “this is still a place of business and we have work to do if we’re going to make another run into France.”

  Adam Hardacre’s face hardened. “Two weeks is all I need, Daniel.”

  “Then I shall leave you and take the ladies with me,” announced Lady Abigail, putting a hand on Susannah’s and Olivia’s backs. “We have work of our own to occupy us for the next little while. We expect to see you gentlemen home for supper.”

  After Lady Abigail shepherded her down to the shop floor, Susannah took one more glance back up at the stairs.

  “Don’t you worry about what they’re doing up there,” said Lady Abigail. “I’m going to keep you busy enough that you won’t have time to miss them. There are a few things we need to do ourselves.”

  She led the way across the street to the White Hart Inn where they were ushered upstairs to a private dining salon.

  Lady Abigail sat at the head of the table and ordered a light repast and a bottle of sweet sherry, then spoke of little of consequence until after the maid who served them departed.

  The only thing which so far distinguished this from a social occasion was the unexpected addition of a blotter and an expensive oak writing case on the dining table.

  Susannah struggled to find the same nonchalance as her host, so she looked to Olivia for a cue.

  Adam’s wife seemed to exude serenity, but there was an alertness in her manner, a nervous anticipation that was contagious. Susannah fidgeted with her fingers.

  Lady Abigail set her glass down at last and leaned back in her chair.

  “Tell me about St. Sennen, Susannah – who can be relied upon, who should be avoided. I try to make it a habit to know all the influential people around Cornwall, but I have to confess I’d never before considered St. Sennen as anything but a rural backwater. Who is magistrate of the area? I have a vague recollection that he’s some officious little potentate…”

  The unexpected description broke the tension. Susannah laughed.

  “I suppose that does sum up Martin Doyle. I suspect he is little more than a corrupt petty bureaucrat, but he signs my liquor license and I pay him the quarterly taxes. He has caused me no bother. It’s his wife you have to watch out for. Lillian Doyle is a sneaky, dangerous, conniving, unfaithful—”

  “Oh, my! I like her already,” Lady Abigail interrupted. “What is it about her that suggests she’s dangerous? From your description, I assume she’s had her claws in Nathaniel sometime in the past. Oh, don’t look so surprised, dear. Is there anything you know of that she has over Nathaniel that could compromise us? Or over you, for that matter.”

  Susannah told her what she knew. “She and her husband engaged him as a smuggler. Nate believes Doyle became jealous of Lillian’s affair and arranged to have him arrested in France to teach him a lesson.”

  Olivia looked momentarily shocked by the revelation but recovered quickly. Lady Abigail, on the other hand, took in the information with equanimity.

  “There’s another thing I need to ask,” she said. “Are you aware of any of your late husband’s former associates? I’ve had my agents glean everything on the records, and I’ve read the coroner’s verdict on Moorcroft’s death, but I need to know what is not on record.”

  Susannah blinked rapidly. Lady Abigail had said she knew all about Jack but the bald-faced manner in which she detailed her inquiries shocked her. Her stomach plummeted for a moment as the past disappeared in an instant. Once again, she was the panicked young woman who stood back and watched her husband drown without making the least effort to save him. Did Lady Abigail know even that?

  She didn’t realize she was trembling until she felt the touch of Olivia’s hand on hers. Susannah turned to find not censure, but understanding.

  “You’re safe here with us,”
she whispered.

  “But you won’t find pity,” Lady Abigail added. “Not from me at any rate.”

  Susannah noticed Olivia tried to hide a wince at the older woman’s harsh words, but nonetheless she nodded.

  “There is nothing you’ve done – or failed to do – that makes a difference to us. There’s nothing to be afraid of. We are all sisters-in-arms now.”

  Susannah picked up her sherry glass to wet her lips. The honey-colored liquid trembled in the glass.

  “From time to time, I met several of my husband’s associates, but I only knew the name of one man. Robert Lawnton.”

  Abigail pulled out a piece of paper from the writing box, primed a pen, and wrote down the name.

  “He led the search party for Jack and was at the funeral. I expected him to show up at the inquest but he didn’t. I spent a year and a half waiting for him to come back, but I never saw him again. I didn’t want to see him again. So, when the opportunity came to start over with a new life and a new name, I took it.”

  “And there’s been nothing more since?” Olivia asked.

  Susannah started to shake her head and then stopped. There was no use denying it. “Six weeks ago, I received a letter from him.”

  The older woman frowned.

  “Rather, my former solicitor received a letter forwarded on by the owners of the old house. He forwarded it on to my current solicitor.”

  “And what did he say in the letter?”

  She sighed. “He wanted to know about some property of Jack’s that I had.”

  “Had?”

  “I burned it. It was a ledger. Of stolen goods, I think.”

  Lady Abigail tutted. “A pity. Never, ever burn something that might come in handy down the road, Susannah. Anything someone wants badly enough to spend years looking for could be useful for – how shall I put it delicately? – oh yes, for leverage should the need arise.

  “Do you think this Lawnton fellow knows where you are?”

  “No, I don’t think so. He wouldn’t look for me under the name of Linwood. I have no family connection to St. Sennen at all. I can’t imagine how he could possibly find out.”