Triana was touched by Gabriel’s story, and she absently reached up and touched the valley between her breasts where his handkerchief lay cradled near her heart. Ever since he’d given it to her, she had kept it close, having turned it into some sort of good luck talisman, for it was after he’d given it to her that she had become Triana, and not just some spinster extraordinaire.
She walked over to him and rose up on her tiptoes and lightly pressed her mouth to his, yearning to show him that he wasn’t alone anymore and that someone truly cared about him.
At first, he didn’t move, but it wasn’t long before he was crushing her to him, deepening the kiss. He put one arm under her knees, and effortlessly lifted her into his arms. He carried her over to a crimson settee in a corner of the room, gently laying her down before covering her body with his. Their mouths still fused together, he quickly divested himself of his jacket, cravat, and waistcoat, while she pulled his shirt from his trousers, nearly ripping it in her haste to run her hands over that glorious chest.
He pulled down a corner of her gown and feasted on her body, eliciting her moan in anticipation of what was to come. As he lifted her skirts and began to stroke the little nub of her womanhood, she closed her eyes and allowed the pleasure to consume her. Within a matter of moments, she was exploding in a prism of ecstasy. With a growl, he undid the falls of his trousers and pushed into her wet heat in one long, hard thrust, causing them both to gasp in the glorious sensation.
She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pumped his hips in a sensual rhythm, until they were both panting, their yearning for one another spinning quickly out of control. Triana cried out his name as he gave one final jerk of his hips, and they convulsed as one.
He cradled her in the circle of his arms, as they lay side by side and fought to catch their breath in the aftermath of the passing storm. He took her lips in gentle kiss that made her heart swell in her chest. “I must say that’s a rather agreeable way to start the day.”
Triana couldn’t help herself. She giggled. Actually giggled. But the moment she looked back at him and caught sight of a look so tender and loving, her laughter faded away, with the words she ached to say hovering on her lips.
But the moment passed as Gabriel brushed a quick kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry I had to leave you this morning.”
Triana smiled in understanding. “I know you have a lot to do as the master of this estate.”
He touched a finger to her cheek, and then got up to put his clothes back on. Triana also set herself to rights so that by the time he turned back to her she was presentable once again, almost as if the passionate encounter they had just shared hadn’t even happened. “I suppose it’s time I told you why I brought you here.”
To be honest, Triana hadn’t even given it a second thought after last night, but if he was willing to confide in her, she would listen.
Instead of sitting beside her, Gabriel sat in the chair opposite and leaned his elbows on his knees. He looked at her steadily, and she knew that whatever he had to say was important. “Someone was following us yesterday when we left the opera.”
Triana swallowed. She had thought she’d been prepared for the potential of danger when she’d set out to help Gabriel and her brother, but she had to admit that she hadn’t really thought it was a real issue — until now. “Do you think it’s because I met with Madame Corressa?”
“I would say that’s definitely why,” he concurred. “Travell and I wondered if she might yet be under surveillance because of her association with the Evening Swan.” With a grim expression, he added, “It appears she is.”
“Where is Travell? Does he know I’m here?”
“He’s been detained by business in London, but yes, I apprised him of the situation and he’s taking care of things in town. Your ladies’ maid, Genevieve, is visiting her family, while your mother and the rest of society believe you accompanied her to visit a sick cousin in the country. Travell is supposed to join us at Mivart’s, if not before.”
Triana tried not to think too much about the fact he’d referred to her presence at Chiltern Hall as a “situation,” as she asked, “Have you heard from Ridge or Logan?”
Gabriel shook his head. “No, neither, but I sent a message to Logan to see if he could find out anything about our shadow.” He leaned back in his chair and blew out a breath.
Triana gave a half-hearted smile. “It’s too bad you have to be stuck here with me.”
While she had meant it as a light jest, he stared at her darkly. “I chose to protect you, Triana.” He stood. “I should probably check and see if any messages have arrived. If you wish, feel free to continue your exploration. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Triana stared after his departure with a sinking heart. She’d only meant to make light of the “situation,” and perhaps even search for a bit of reassurance that he wasn’t resenting their time together, but it seemed she’d only managed to annoy him. But then, he was a spy who had been forced into the role of professional nursemaid, however much he might claim the opposite.
And just because she had accomplished what she’d set out to do, go to her marriage bed no longer chaste, that didn’t mean anything else had changed between her and Gabriel. She was still engaged to Eastbury and he was still the unattainable duke. And even though he said that there was no understanding with Cordelia, that wasn’t to say there never would be. She still didn’t know where he stood with the lady, and she realized it was because she was too afraid to hear the answer.
Triana focused on the portrait of Gabriel’s mother. Those eyes, so much like her son’s, seemed to look back at her with a touch of regret… and perhaps even sorrow.
But then, Camilla had also fallen in love once upon a time.
***
That evening, in his father’s study — correction, his study — Gabriel grabbed the brandy decanter on his desk and poured himself a stiff drink. After taking a couple scorching gulps, he tossed the remaining contents onto the fire, watching with unseeing eyes as the flames greedily devoured the last dregs of alcohol.
What did it matter? He could drink himself into oblivion and still not forget her.
He wanted Triana like an opium-eater craved the drug. The desire to sink into her welcoming warmth time and again was so tempting that he’d had to clutch the arms of his chair at dinner to keep from acting on the impulse. But while she had spoken cordially enough throughout the meal, he could tell any conversation from her was forced, if not stilted. And even though she’d tried to hide the fact she’d been crying, the evidence had been there in her swollen and red-rimmed gaze.
The injury in those blue eyes had made him feel like the lowest sort of bounder, because he knew he was the rogue responsible for her upset.
He still didn’t know what had caused his abrupt removal from her that morning, only that he had felt absolutely restless at the time and it hadn’t settled well. It was an emotion he wasn’t used to feeling. In the past, during prior investigations, Gabriel had always been in the midst of the action, so a bit of disquiet was surely to be expected, surely. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be in charge of Triana’s wellbeing, for he would die first before allowing anything to happen to her.
But what if feelings like these never passed?
He allowed a small frown to mar his forehead. He thought it would be difficult to adjust to his role as the Duke of Chiltern, but he hadn’t even considered the fact that he might always crave the danger that being a spy afforded him. For so long, it was the only outlet he’d had. It was all he’d known. It had been his life.
But Triana had taken the place of all that. She was what mattered now.
So then, why had he hesitated?
***
Triana had spent a restless night alone, tossing and turning, until sleep claimed her from pure exhaustion. She had hoped that Gabriel would come to her, but she was left miserable and alone. She awoke when it was still dark, her eyes grainy and likely rimmed wi
th shadows.
She glanced at the clock on the mantel. Five-thirty.
With a sigh, she threw off the covers and shrugged on her dressing gown.
She had intended to head to the library to find something to read, but paused when she heard the distinct sound of voices coming from the foyer. She peeked over the staircase railing and saw Hannity attired in a nightshirt and cap, talking to Gabriel who was wearing the same pair of trousers and shirt that he’d worn at dinner, giving the appearance that he had never even been to bed.
While she wasn’t sure what to think of this, only when the identity of the other two men registered did Triana fly down the stairs. Gabriel was the first to see her descent and his eyes abruptly darkened to molten silver as they met hers. Whether it was from frustration or desire, she wasn’t sure, as she quickly glanced away.
She went straight into her brother’s arms. “Travell! Thank goodness.” She glanced at Logan and offered a polite smile, to which he returned with a brief nod of his head.
Travell appeared relieved to see her, although his expression was rather grim. “I’m afraid we’re here with some rather unpleasant news. Why don’t you go upstairs and change and join us in the study when you’re ready?”
Triana’s stomach fluttered in alarm as she returned to her rooms. Without taking the time to ring for Greta, she did her best to dress in the same mint green muslin that she’d donned the day before, all while trying to ignore what had happened between her and Gabriel when she’d worn it.
She went back downstairs and entered the study to see her brother seated in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, while Logan sat on the leather chaise and Gabriel leaned against his desk, arms crossed and a pensive look on his taunt face.
Oh dear, this was bad.
She shut the door behind her, causing Travell to glance up. After casting her a somber look, as if trying to prepare her for what he was about to say, he said bluntly, “Our courier is dead.” He ignored her shocked gasp and continued matter of fact, “His body was found floating in the Thames sometime late last night. The authorities are ruling it a suicide. However, I find that highly unlikely.”
“More than likely our shadow had something to do with that,” Gabriel muttered.
“Unfortunately, there’s more,” Logan added forbiddingly. “Madame Corressa is also missing. She hasn’t been seen since the night of the opera. Either at Huntington’s residence or the hotel where your rendezvous was to take place.”
Triana sank down across from Travell, completely stunned by this tragic turn of events.
“I’m afraid that’s not even the worst of it.” Travell added with a dismal tilt to his mouth. “The Regent has given us one week to apprehend the villains.” He paused meaningfully. “Or we shall be imprisoned for failure to comply with the Crown.”
“Bloody hell!” Gabriel gave a low growl of impatience and began to pace about the room.
Triana, on the other hand, was merely trying to comprehend the ramifications of it all. “I’m getting married at the end of the week,” she whispered woodenly.
Travell reached out to take her cold hands, anxiety turning to ice in her veins.
“Don’t worry, Tri,” he said with more conviction than she felt. “We haven’t failed to come through on a mission before, and I’ll be damned if I allow it to happen now. We will prevail.”
“We still have Ridge working on the codes,” Logan pointed out.
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Codes?”
“From what we understand,” Travell explained. “The two ships communicate with a system of codes to determine what cove to meet at with the next shipment.”
“I see,” Gabriel murmured, a considering look on his face. “So we might yet be able to set up a raid.”
Travell nodded. “And Lord Palmerston assured me that he is working on gathering a team of soldiers to have at the ready.”
Gabriel ran a hand over his face, his knuckles brushing over the night’s growth of dark stubble. “Thank God. I can’t take much more of this infernal waiting.”
Triana flinched at his words, finding that they didn’t settle well. She rose to her feet. Without looking anyone in the eye, she murmured, “I imagine you have a lot to discuss.”
Triana walked away but not before she heard Gabriel snap in her wake, “Just tell me what I can do.”
***
There were eyes and ears everywhere.
They watched every move she made, but Constance Freewater was no fool. Long before she’d ever become the exclusive courtesan, Madame Corressa, she’d grown up on these very streets. If anyone thought she couldn’t spot a hired thug from a mile away, then they were sadly mistaken, and since it was easier to fight an enemy on your own turf, she had disappeared into the underground where she knew more than a few miscreants of her own.
She patted the shabby bonnet that covered her long, dark wig, and ducked down a dark alley. She lifted the hem of her dress with one hand, as she quickened her pace. The familiar, acrid scents of the rundown areas of the east side met her nostrils, but instead of the distaste many felt in such a situation, she smiled.
It was good to be home.
She cast a surreptitious glance over her shoulder and rushed around the corner of a crumbling boardinghouse only to stop abruptly as she ran straight into a solid chest.
“An’ where might ye be goin’ in such a rush, missy?” The man grinned maliciously and showed off a mouthful of rotting teeth before he grabbed her by the upper arms, the scar covering the left side of his face standing out in stark contrast to the dirt and grime. It was the same man who’d been her shadow for the past couple of days, one of the crewmen of the Evening Swan.
Her voice didn’t so much as waver as she looked right into that smug face and replied as cordially as if she might be asking for a second cup of tea, “Why, I don’t know what you mean. I was just taking a stroll.”
He threw his head back and laughed boisterously. “Th’ cap’n always said tha’ ye was a real spitfire.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, although she gave a cool smile. “Did he? Well, you may tell your captain to keep his opinions to himself and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine.” She was careful to keep her expression carefully neutral as she gave a light sigh, “Then again, I don’t suppose you’ll have the chance.”
He turned toward the slight movement Constance caught out of the corner of her eye — but it was too late, for the knife was abruptly thrust into his ribcage. His face contorted with a mixture of shock and pain, as blood spurted out of his side like a sieve. He finally slid to the ground in a lifeless heap.
Constance glanced up at the man who remained standing and offered a wink. “Hallo, Bull.”
Her companion gave a single grunt in return, though for as long as she’d known him that was all the emotion he had ever shown. But he was faithful a friend as any could have in this city, and he never denied her request for assistance. Then again, she had practically grown up with him, so he was, in essence, the only family she really had.
“Now,” Constance said evenly, stepping over the corpse at her feet. “All we have to take care of is my meeting with Lady Triana at Mivart’s tomorrow afternoon. After that, I do believe I shall buy you a case of good Scottish whiskey — right after you pulverize your opponent in the ring at Grady’s.”
At mention of the popular boxing establishment that only a few and highly select individuals inhabited, for it was a blood bath of sport for only the roughest and toughest of patrons, Constance caught a glimpse of a smile touching his hardened mouth.
Chapter Seventeen
The day dawned particularly bleak and rather ominous, the threat of rain evident in the dark, swollen clouds. For Triana, having felt as if her entire body had been depleted of tears, the scene suited her mood only too well.
“I can’t take much more of this infernal waiting.”
Gabriel’s impatient words had been like a slap in the face. Had their time together tr
uly been that unbearable? Was the pleasure they’d shared honestly nothing more than a passing of time?
Then again, was she truly surprised that their affair was over as quickly as it had begun? She only had herself to blame for this present misery, for Gabriel had made her no promises. He had whispered no words of love or affection. She was the one who had chosen to give herself to him when she knew nothing further could come of it. She was the one who had lost her heart.
But, if nothing else could be said of her time at Chiltern Hall, she’d managed to outwit Eastbury.
A sudden knock at her bedchamber door sent her heart jumping into her throat. At the sound of her brother’s voice on the other side, she forced herself to paste on a smile at his entrance.
He sat down beside her on the window seat and regarded her thoughtfully. “How are you?”
She shrugged her shoulders, and dropped her gaze to her lap. “Well enough, I suppose.” With a sigh, she looked back at him. “Have you heard anything new?”
Travell shook his head, small lines of concern creasing his brow. “No, but I am convinced that Logan and Gabriel will unearth something.” He watched her closely. “They left for London not long after you went upstairs.”
Triana gave a nod, the only thing that truly registered was that Gabriel was gone. He’d left without a single word. Without goodbye.
She met her brother’s steady gaze, those blue eyes so like her own, and reached out a hand, holding one of his in hers with a reassuring squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Are you?” he asked softly.
Triana's Spring Seduction Page 20