Her Valentine's Secret (A Georgian Romance Book 2)

by Beverley Oakley

  “Hush! Don’t say it!” Frantically Lisette tried to halt his words while keeping up the charade, writhing in his arms as if he were kissing her, ensuring they were positioned so James could not see their faces. With her lips against his, she whispered again, “Bargain with me, I beg you. Tell me you’ll expect a favorable return on any information. Say it loudly.”

  In another surge of apparently lustful desire, Lucien twisted her in his embrace, cupping her breast as he again brought his lips down hard and furiously in a kiss of sudden, searing, unexpected passion.

  So this was what it was like to be properly kissed. The power of it communicated to every thread and fiber of her being, making her utterly vulnerable; and, when he finally released her, very frightened. How could he do this to her? Make her feel this way?”

  “She opened her eyes in time to see him reach for one of the goblets upon the table. Horror engulfed her. No, not that one on the right! James had put something in it to render him immobile, but Lisette was to entice him to drink only when she’d claimed the miniature with its precious numbers.

  Not that she intended that to happen, now.

  “Stop!” Only by lunging forward, her hands closing over Lucien’s groin, was she able to distract him from taking the draft he clearly intended. Perhaps he too had been more affected by their kiss than she’d expected. His ragged breathing suggested this, as did the hardness that she encountered before she hurriedly released him.

  Gathering her wits, Lisette curved her lips at his shock and laughed softly. “So you’re a gambler, are you, Lucien? You want me to trade you the three numbers I have in my possession for the numbers you have.” She came up behind him, draping herself over him as she whispered, “Don’t tell me you have the numbers or picture with you. Arrange an assignation. Please!”

  An assignation to secure the information he needed was the possibility James had liked least, for of course it meant Lisette must accompany Lucien away from the ballroom to another location. But James had been prepared to sanction even that when he’d learned Lucien possessed the miniature of Lisette’s mother. And, of course, he’d follow.

  Lucien gave a lazy chuckle as he held her chin a moment, his eyes kindling. “I’m a ruthless man, Lisette. I need to know if the rewards are worth the expenditure.” His lips were a hairsbreadth from hers, his breath heating hers, causing her to almost convulse in anticipation as he added softly, but loud enough for James on the other side of the wall to hear, “Of course. Why should I simply give you the image of your mother when you seem willing to offer me so much that I desire in exchange? And do you really think that would be worth a single night with you?”

  Her mouth dropped open. What could she say? James hadn’t come up with this possibility.

  Then he was looming over her. With his right arm crossing her throat from behind and his hand resting lightly, tantalizingly over her breast, his other hand cupped her bottom against his thighs.

  She’d never felt so vulnerable.

  Or so excited.

  She gave a little wriggle, pushing her body against his, her mouth stretching into a smile of satisfaction as she felt the swell of his erection against his breeches pressing into the small of her back. She was unable to see him, but she heard the change in his breathing.

  Lisette snaked a hand up behind her to cup his strong jaw. “A fair trade,” she told him, clearly and loudly, turning in his embrace and gazing at him from beneath her lashes. “I have memorized every number. Surely you have too. No? Then I will go to where you keep what is rightfully mine. We can trade further there.”

  “You would risk that? You’d come back to my lodgings?”

  “I want you to prove that you really do have that which by rights belongs to me.”

  “You don’t trust me?” He chuckled as he held her chin. “And how will you manage that when we have only these moments together before you must return to your chaperone, the good and just James. You say he has been fair to you, but will he sanction this night of passion? I can see you are far from immune to my charm, and I am on fire to have you, but how will you manage James?”

  Lisette shrugged out of his embrace. She stared at the wall. Stared right into James’s gaze, for there was the tiny peephole cut into the painting. She could see the fury in his eye, and it thrilled her.

  She turned back to Lucien. “I will make my excuses to Lady Athelton and say I am suddenly indisposed, that I couldn’t find James but could she reassure him I have gone home with Madame Pasquier.”

  Lucien seemed to like the plan, for he gathered her into his arms and kissed her neck while Lisette stared at the painting and, for James’s benefit, assumed a look of pained revulsion before schooling her features into apparently pretended ecstasy as Lucien’s face came before her.

  “Where should I direct the driver to take me, Lucien?”

  He chuckled. “You sound like you have done this before, my little Lisette. My address tonight is Albermarle St. Number twenty-six.”

  “I’m afraid you will have to write it down for me. Twenty-six Albermarle Street, Mayfair?”

  Already he was scratching a note on the back of the little piece of paper on which her name had been written. He handed it to her. “I will be waiting for you at the basement entrance to take you through the back way. Have no fear, no one will observe you, I shall see to that. Allow me a few moments to go ahead and prepare.”

  Then he dipped his head as if to kiss her, whispering hurriedly against her lips, “Leave the note on the table for James and go to number twenty-four Albermarle Street if he is not with you. Do not fear you will be vulnerable or exposed. I’m used to such arrangements.”

  Used to such arrangements? Dismayed, she watched him leave. So, he was in the habit of clandestine assignations like this. But, of course, he was in the sights of every designing female. He could have any he chose. It just happened that Lisette had offered herself up to him like a tasty dish upon a silver platter.

  There was no time to think more upon it. Lisette had barely caught her breath before James burst into the room.

  Chapter 4

  “You are certain it’s not a trick, Lisette? He has the miniature in his lodgings? Lord, but I had hoped he’d have it with him.”

  Lisette was able to turn her disappointment to advantage as she curled her lip in apparent disgust, though it was not all feigned. “It is not a trick, and he expects he will have me dancing to his tune.”

  James stopped her progress toward the door and swung her round to face him. “Remember why Lucien Monteil is the success he is today, Lisette. He seeks to profit from everything. And you are no exception. He was in love with your mother. He tried to seduce her; his first conquest. She told me she laughed it off with good nature at the time; that she forgave him his gaucheness, and that he was embarrassed. Well, he hasn’t changed. He’s only learned to operate with more success, more smoothly. Don’t be taken in.”

  “Taken in?” Indignantly, Lisette threw off James’s hands. “By Lucien Monteil? What do you take me for? Before the night is done, I will have achieved my life’s ambition—his destruction.”

  She would have left then, but James was not done, for he gripped her fingertips just before she was out of reach and pulled her back to him. She assumed he intended to reinforce his point, and indeed this was so.

  The sudden, hard contact with his lips was not what she’d expected. Nor were the feelings that were communicated by his touch. It was a deep and thorough kiss, and the revulsion she felt was more intense than any loathing she’d hitherto drummed up for Lucien.

  Yet Lisette had a good teacher in James. For seven years, he’d tutored her in ways to pretend what she did not feel, and her compass was finely attuned to the danger she courted in showing anything but gratitude and relief at his kiss.

  So she responded with greater ardor than he, though the wetness of his lips and the unwelcome intrusion of his tongue made her want to be ill.

  “Promise me, James, you�
�ll always look after me, and that you’ll be there tonight to save me from the worst of what Lucien has in store,” she sobbed as she broke the kiss and sank against his chest, hoping her show of weakness and dependence were convincing.

  James looked satisfied as he looked down at her, limp in his arms. “He will barter and make you agree to come back, but you will put this in his wine or water, Lisette.” He handed her a small twist of paper that contained the agent that would immobilize Lucien or—she suspected in the case where she had what she finally wanted—worse. “And I shall come in the carriage with you and then make my own way into the house. At no stage will you be alone.”

  Of course he would not leave her to her own devices, but now she was James’s prisoner. Go to number twenty-four Albermarle Street, Lucien had said, if James is not with you.

  Well, James was with her, which meant Lucien’s plan would come to nothing. Her dread was very great as the carriage pulled up in front of the townhouse next door. Would Lucien anticipate this?

  But, of course, he was used to ‘such arrangements’ as he’d told her with disconcerting confidence before he’d left. No doubt he’d shepherded dozens of women from the basement just as he was doing with her now, as he hurried her through the door of number twenty-six up a dark and narrow passage, no doubt on fire to enjoy a few moments or more of clandestine sexual indulgence on his terms.

  For a brief time in his arms earlier, she’d surrendered herself to him absolutely. She’d repositioned him in her life as her savior believing that his truth trumped James’s, and that his responses suggested a pure and genuine ardor that matched hers. What an innocent she was. As if Lucien would suddenly fall in love with her upon a mere kiss and desire her for his wife above all others.

  It was the fantasy she’d clung to for those minutes of passion when she’d renounced James, yet the truth was that this was nothing more than a grubby exchange, and she was as vulnerable with Lucien as she was with James.

  More so, in fact.

  “So James was with you? No matter, it was what I expected,” Lucien said softly, squeezing her hand reassuringly as he guided her through the darkness. “The two houses adjoin one another via a secret passageway. We’ll go to the upper floor where the bedrooms are. It’ll be what he expects, of course, and he may be following closer than we would like, so we must hurry.”

  “And then you will claim your reward in return for the information I’m willing to provide?” Her voice echoed forlornly in the darkness, but his response was brisk and unexpected.

  “Good Lord, what are you saying, Lisette? I’m taking you to a secret passageway that will lead out into the street. A message has been sent ahead to my man who will be waiting with a carriage ready to take you to the coast. We’ll elude James that way.”

  “Everything was a charade? You weren’t intending to…” She stopped, forcing him to steady her in the darkness. His voice drifted out of the gloom, amused. “The sincerity of my desire was no charade, but I’d no more profit by your vulnerability than I would have betrayed your father or tried to seduce your mother.” Guiding her once more with a firm hand upon her shoulder, he went on, “As I said, I’ve done this dozens of times. Smuggled those who are in danger from sinister forces out of the country.”

  She’d misunderstood, but now was not the time to say it upon a laugh of relief, though despite the urgency of the situation, it’s what she felt like doing. If she could have shown her gratitude by showering him with grateful kisses, she would have.

  Now they were entering a bedchamber, half bathed in light from a guttering candle that had been placed upon a chest of drawers by the bed, and Lucien was striding across to the window to look down upon the street.

  He swung around, relief in his eyes, barely finishing his sentence that the carriage was indeed below before adding in a rush, “By god but you are beautiful, Lisette. For seven years, I’ve dreamed of doing for you what I could not for your parents. Do you trust me?”

  His words unleashed a torrent of emotion within her, and she covered her face with her hands as she shrank against the wall. “I have to, Lucien,” she whispered. “For I think I have no choice. You—”

  Her words were cut short for, as she raised her face, his mouth was upon hers. It could not have been more different from James’s kiss. Desire, want, and need flourished once again within her, and she whimpered as he pulled away.

  He sighed on a note of satisfaction. “I’ve never kissed a woman and felt myself in danger of being robbed of all rational thought and action, but I promise you, that’s what I feel when I kiss you, Lisette.” He was pulling aside the Aubusson carpet as he spoke, clasping a handhold that drew up a section of the floorboards and revealed a gaping hole. “Oh, my precious Lisette,” he said, tenderly now when he saw her fear, moving over to her quickly to cradle her in his arms. “There is so much for you to take in, and you do not know whether to come with me or wait for James, who is only a few moments behind us, for I made sure one of the servants would detain him.”

  “You’re wrong!” Lisette thrust out her chin. “I will never go back to James, and yes, I’m putting my trust in you because that’s all I have. You say you’ll spirit me away. To France? And you say you have the means to restore to me some of what was stolen from my father? Well then, I’ll owe you my life, and you will owe me…nothing more.”

  He clapped his hand over her mouth to stop her saying more, and in the silence, a stealthy footfall could be heard in the passage outside. A squeaking floorboard that Lisette had no doubt had been artfully positioned for the purposes of being alerted to the proximity of unwelcome company.

  James was closer than she’d anticipated, and perhaps he’d taken Lucien by surprise too, judging by the look that crossed his features as he hustled her to the gaping hole. Below swirled a vast nothingness and, if the pressure on her shoulder was any indication, Lucien intended that she launch herself into the abyss.

  His hands on her shoulders was reassuring but what he suggested appalled her. “Generally, there is a little more time to do this in a manner less horrifying to the uninitiated, but you are brave, Lisette,” he whispered into her ear, as he helped her lower herself upon the edge of the hole, smoothing her skirts so her legs dangled into nothingness.

  Another creaking floorboard sounded followed by the stealthy turn of the doorknob.

  “Grip my wrist and I will lower you, and then I will, in turn, lower myself so I’m able to pull the cover down over me and hide the means of our escape. I will not let go of you, but you will hang loose for a moment, and you will be afraid. When I squeeze your hand, you must release your grip. Can you do all that without screaming?”

  She nodded. She had to trust him. She did trust him, and fear of James overrode her fear of anything else.

  Terror coalesced into a blaze of hellish color swamping her vision, but the instinct for self-preservation was strong as she gave herself up entirely to Lucien and hung by one hand in the gaping darkness, more vulnerable than she’d ever been before. Fear skittered up her spine, and she had to stick her other fist into her mouth and bite down hard, but when he squeezed her hand she instantly released her grip. The sensation of freefalling sucked the screams from her lungs, and when she landed in a bale of hay and realized she’d survived, relief was overwhelming.

  Quickly, she rolled clear of the area where Lucien landed hard within seconds, and she felt his arms go about her, his voice thick with similar relief as he murmured, “You’re brave, and you’re clever, Lisette, for I was very afraid for you once I realised I’d forgotten to tell you to move clear. Now hurry!”

  She didn’t speak her first words until he’d hustled her through another corridor, out into cold night air and across the slippery cobblestones into the waiting carriage.

  “I’m free! As soon as you put me aboard a boat, I’m free.” She couldn’t remember feeling delirious with relief like this. The reassuring clopping of horses’ hooves as they were transported farther and far
ther from the malignant force James had exerted over her the past seven years made the laughter bubble up in her throat. “Free!”

  “Free, though I shall be with you.” Lucien put a hand on her shoulder. “I shan’t put you aboard a boat and just leave you, alone and unprotected, Lisette. I’m going with you.”

  “You need me to release the money?”

  “Yes, there are necessary steps which we’ll both need to do together to ensure you receive whatever is in that bank deposit box.”

  “And you must receive your due for what you’ve done for me this night, Lucien.” She closed her eyes in the darkness, warmed by the comfort of his bulk beside her. It didn’t matter what happened now. If Lucien felt he’d atoned by restoring her fortune and ensuring her safety, she would be grateful.

  “I don’t want or need your money. I have enough of my own.”

  “Then…what do you want?” It seemed incomprehensible that if her money were of no interest, he’d not want something else.

  “I hope you’re not imagining I intend to trade on the power I have over you, Lisette.”

  He’d tapped right into her thoughts.

  “I’m not like James.”

  She sank against him with relief. In the inky blackness, she could not see his face. The rollicking motion of the horses as they navigated the bends and potholes, forcing her body against Lucien’s, was the here and now and the only certainty Lisette had in her life.

  She had been cast loose. No, she had cast herself loose, cutting the bonds that bound her to the predictable, ordered life she’d have enjoyed as James’s wife in his comfortable, ordered, if severe household. “No, you’re not like James.”

  In the darkness, he gripped both her hands, adjusting his weight as the carriage swerved, apparently to avoid a pedestrian judging by the harsh cry of the coachman. Lucien seemed a man at ease with his body and for a moment Lisette could find no more to say as she stared at his broad shoulders and proud carriage silhouetted against the starlit sky she could see through the uncurtained window behind him.