The Secret to a Spy’s Heart: A Steamy Victorian Historical Spy Series (Romancing Intrigue Book 4)

by Laura Shipley

  Her head fell back as her excitement ignited.

  “That’s it, let it take you, Colette. I love to see you like this, all hot and wild, just for me.” His words were heavy with lust.

  “Only you, Louis. Forever.”

  Her words pierced straight to his soul. Louis took her lips as he fondled her clitoris. It all combined to make her pussy clench around his cock. Louis threw his head back, a loud cry of satisfaction on his lips as he flooded her embracing channel.

  They were spent, both physically and emotionally. The weight of Louis’s body made Colette feel safe for the moment. The coming day would bring danger, but for now she planned on staying with Louis for the night.

  The couple rested for a time before they came together again. Colette took what Louis offered. They explored each other’s bodies with their hands and lips. When at last they slept, Colette curled into her lover’s arms.

  She awoke still entangled in Louis’s embrace. Lying there, she recalled details of their night together and the word she had said to him: forever. Would Louis remember what she had muttered in the throes of passion? It mattered little right now. Today would decide the rest of her life, and it was time to face the day. Colette reluctantly released herself from Louis and went to her room.

  The day passed quickly, as if fate were ready to see the conclusion of their mission. The men huddled together to finalize plans for the evening. Couriers were coming and going with messages to coordinate the efforts. Throughout the day, Colette caught Louis stealing glances her way. His roguish grin would light up his face.

  Charlotte did her best to distract Colette. The two women busied themselves, making sure everyone was well fed, and played card games to pass the time. Colette appreciated the friendship that Charlotte offered. They had much in common. After the noon meal, she regaled Colette with tales of the escapades she and Phillip had shared on their adventure across Europe. It was amusing when Phillip interjected with his side, or they would argue about certain details, only to end in laughter. Even Louis added his part of the story.

  It was amazing to hear how Louis and his circle of friends had supported one another over the years. Each man was happily married to the woman he loved. It made Colette jealous, and she yearned even more to be with Louis.

  Evening at last was upon them. An early dinner was served to allow time for everyone to ready themselves. Andrew’s wife, Tabitha, who was Phillip’s sister, also joined them. Ethan’s wife, Kate, had recently delivered their first child so she remained at home with Emily, Hugh’s wife, who was expecting her first child. Emily and Kate had been best friends for years and were no doubt just as worried about their husbands.

  Before they left, Louis took Colette aside. Her hands were clammy, and her lips trembled. This could be the last time she saw Louis. The prospect made her want to cling to him and never let go, but she was strong. She knew it would not help if he saw her concern. Colette put on a brave face.

  “Colette, my darling,” Louis said as he held her. “I promise I will return. You have nothing to fear.”

  “I won’t worry.” She tried to keep her tone level. “What is there to worry about? Only that you do not know what or who you are up against, or how many men you might face. Why should that make me worry?” Her voice broke.

  His lips covered hers briefly. “I need to tell you something . . .”

  “No,” she said, covering his mouth with her hand. This was neither the time nor the place for him to profess his love or make sweet promises that he might not be able to keep. She could not abide the thought of him saying those three words, then not returning. “Whatever it is, you can tell me later, when you are back and all of this is behind us.”

  Her eyes beseeched him. Louis nodded his head and pulled her against his chest. “I will come back to you, my love.” The words echoed between them as he feasted on her lips one last time before leaving with the others.

  Colette stood speechless until she heard the slam of the door. After a moment, she felt an arm slide through hers. Charlotte had come to lead Colette over to the settee where Tabitha joined them, a drink in hand for each of them.

  The clock ticked away the hours, and the house fell silent. Colette lost count of the pots of tea they drank. A glance at the clock showed it was only eleven. Louis and Phillip should be at the wharf. The Americans were supposed to meet their conspirators at midnight. It would be a long night.

  The soothing tick of the clock made Colette’s head sag in exhaustion. She swayed forward but quickly righted herself. She checked the time again. It was close to midnight. Charlotte was asleep on a chair, her head resting on her hand, while Tabitha was spread out on a settee, also asleep. Perhaps a stroll around the room would revive her. Just as she started her second go around, the bell to the front door rang.

  Colette waited what seemed like an eternity, until a figure loomed in the doorway. She did not recognize him as any of the men who had been to the house over the last few days. Warning bells went off inside Colette’s head. She surveyed the room, looking for a weapon. The only thing feasible was the fireplace poker. She took a few tentative steps when the intruder brandished a pistol.

  “Pardon the intrusion, but I must ask you to come with me, mademoiselle.”

  He had a French accent. None of the men she had seen at Phillip’s house had been French—they were all English. Her gaze went between the door and the fireplace. As if reading her mind, he chuckled.

  “Do not think about running or trying to fight,” the menacing man said. “There is someone who wants to meet you, and he does not like to be kept waiting.”

  Colette’s pulse raced. It had to be the Fox. Who else would know about them being here? The man waggled the gun in the direction of the door. She hesitated, wracking her brain for a way out of this predicament.

  Sensing her unease, the prowler pointed his gun at Charlotte’s sleeping form. “If you do not come with me, I will shoot her.”

  Colette had no doubt he would. There was nothing she could do. She did not want to jeopardize her friends. Without a word, she left the house with her captor. On the way out the door, she saw the limp body of a young footman. Colette saw no blood and prayed he was only unconscious. As they walked into the engulfing night, Colette wondered if she would see Louis or any of their friends again.

  CHAPTER 26

  Colette’s abductor ushered her into a waiting carriage around the corner. They alighted in front of a sizable house, obviously belonging to someone with wealth. She looked around to see if there was anyone she could hale for help, but the street was empty. Before she could do anything, the cold tip of the gun pressed into her back.

  “Move,” the brute said to her.

  She went up the stairs, and the front door opened. Colette paused at the threshold, not sure where to go. It took only a moment for her companion to grab her arm. He led her down the hall to a closed door. Without a knock, he tossed her in, like a bag of potatoes. The door slammed shut before she got her bearings.

  The room appeared to be an office, judging by the desk and shelves of books. Artwork hung on the walls, and antiquities were displayed around the room. A warm fire crackled in the hearth. Colette took all this in before she noticed a small billow of smoke rising from a nearby chair.

  “I hope your journey was not too unpleasant,” came a deep voice that she recognized.

  The mystery man rose from his seat and faced her. It was Louis’s godfather, André. It felt like a ton of rocks had landed in her stomach and threatened to make her ill. The man she had danced with not so long ago was gone. The cheerful smile and boisterous laughter had been replaced with a harsh glint in his eyes and a firm set to his mouth. Next to him on the table lay a pistol. He did not attempt to hide it.

  “I must say, I was quite upset to see you had not gone to Lyon as instructed. You have never disobeyed me before, Colette, in all these years. I do not blame you. It is my upstart godson who has corrupted you. I know he can be quite persuasi
ve when he chooses to be.”

  Good Lord, it was him, Le Renard. How was this possible? Was Louis a part of this? Was it all a sick game to catch her in the act of betrayal? Questions raced through her mind, making her feel dizzy. She gripped the nearest chair for balance.

  “Please sit, my dear. I’m sure all of this must be a shock to you.”

  Taking the man’s advice, she collapsed into the nearest chair.

  “I’m not sure when we can expect Louis. I assume he took the bait and is at the shipyard, attempting to save the ships and soldiers that are supposedly going to be sunk. Or perhaps he found out about a meeting tonight with the Americans? So many choices.”

  Colette bit the inside of her cheek to stop from screaming. Her eyes rounded into two large orbs.

  “My dear girl,” he chuckled, “I leave nothing to chance. I made sure those snippets of information got to Louis and his little band of spies. After all these years, do you think a few young pups can stop me?”

  “This is a trap?”

  He took a sip out of a glass sitting on the table by him. “Call it a distraction. I needed him out of the way so we could have our little chat first. For now, he can sit at the dock. At the appointed time, I have a group of associates who will bring him to me. I have men at both locations ready to strike. The rest of his friends will be dealt with as well—permanently.”

  If this was to be her last night on Earth, she might as well get some answers. “How did you know Louis and I were in England?”

  “After Jacques gave you the letter about going to Lyon, I had someone keep track of your whereabouts. When you did not leave, I became suspicious. My man followed you to the ship that took you out of Paris. I paid well for the destination of that vessel and figured out the rest. I had to make a few last minute adjustments to my schedule, but it has all worked out.”

  “What are your plans?” Would he be careless enough to let her know?

  “All in good time, my dear.”

  “Does Louis know about you? Is he part of this? At least give me that.”

  André sighed. “I suppose I can let you know the truth. No, Louis is not aware of my business dealings. The boy has been a thorn in my side for too long. Pity, I had such high hopes for him, but at every turn he has defied me. I thought getting rid of that whore of a wife would be enough, but alas, it was not.”

  At the mention of her friend, Colette’s blood turned icy cold. The bastard did not even try to hide the fact that he was responsible for Michelle’s death. If he would be so bold in front of her, it must mean he had no intentions of letting her leave alive.

  ********

  Leaving Colette without telling her that he loved her had been painful. She had not wanted to hear him say it. Why? Did she fear he would not come back, or did she not reciprocate the sentiment? No, last night when they had made love, she’d said she would be his forever. Colette did love him. That thought would get him through this night.

  He and Phillip, along with a handful of Sir Darnley’s agents, were at the iron foundry, waiting for the meeting. Their men surrounded the perimeter of the foundry, including up and down the wharf on both sides.

  The meeting was to occur at midnight. In the distance a clock chimed the half hour, eleven thirty. It was getting close. Another fifteen minutes had passed when carriage wheels sounded in the distance. The conveyance came around the corner and three men disembarked. Their voices carried, and Louis heard their American accents. They were early.

  Louis motioned to Phillip, who was a few feet away from him. They snuck closer to the trio. The Americans did not enter the building. Instead, they waited outside the entrance. At five minutes until midnight, the door to the iron foundry opened. Louis was dumbfounded when he saw the person who emerged. It was Pierre, André’s secretary. What the hell was he doing here? It made no sense. Was Pierre the Fox?

  The man had always lurked in the shadows, unassuming and quiet. He would have acquired numerous business connections over the years in his dealings for André. Had he used that knowledge to his benefit? Was André aware? Before Louis could collect his thoughts, another carriage pulled up.

  Out climbed Henri. Dear Lord, what was happening? Louis’s heart thundered in his chest. So, it was true—Henri had betrayed him. The deception cut him to the quick. Louis watched as Henri greeted Pierre. It was now or never. He looked at Phillip and nodded his head.

  They emerged from their hiding place together, guns drawn and pointed at the group of men. “Everybody stop!” Louis yelled.

  Henri turned, a look of bewilderment on his face. Pierre, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by the intrusion.

  “Louis, what are you doing?” Henri questioned.

  “I should ask the same of you.”

  “I came here after receiving your letter.”

  Louis paused for a second. “What letter?”

  “A messenger delivered your note two days ago. It was from you, asking me to meet you here at midnight.”

  What the devil was going on? “I sent you no such instructions.” He raised his gun and aimed it at his old friend. “If you are toying with me, Henri, I swear I will put a bullet through your gut.”

  Henri’s face turned ashen. He raised his hands in supplication. “Please, Louis. You have to believe me.”

  “Why should I? You have been acting odd lately. I saw you speaking with Galle, then the information regarding the warehouse in Paris and the Duc of Fronsac. How do you explain that?”

  “I had recommended Galle for his position at the Ministry. Our fathers were acquaintances. The other instances, I do not have an answer. It seems I was simply given false reports. You have to believe me.”

  Louis shook his head. He was not sure what to believe. In the past, his instincts had guided him, but his emotions were in a jumble presently. He tried to reconcile in his mind all the misgivings he'd had about Henri.

  Perhaps the meeting he saw between Henri and Galle had just been an innocent greeting and nothing more. Regarding the false information about the warehouse attack, had he not been given invalid leads in the past? But André had mentioned just before he left that Pierre had noted Henri acting odd. Pierre was not around Henri enough to know what unusual behavior for the man would be.

  Louis pointed his gun and attention at Pierre. “What is your part in all of this?”

  Pierre sneered, his posture relaxed, as if having a pistol pointed at him was not out of the ordinary. “As usual, I am only the middleman. Even after all these years, you are still blind.” He laughed.

  Louis took a step closer to him. “What do you mean?”

  “If you do not understand, then you are not worthy to be by his side.”

  Before Louis could speak, a gunshot pierced the air. It had come from the iron foundry. At that point, all hell broke loose. Phillip returned fire, which sent everyone scurrying for cover. Multiple shots came from inside the foundry building. Sir Darnley’s men returned fire. It appeared both sides had brought extra gun power.

  Louis and Phillip had jumped behind a pile of cargo boxes. Louis caught movement from an upper window and shot. As he reloaded, he surveyed the scene. The Americans were nowhere to be seen. He saw Pierre peak out from behind the far side of the foundry building. Where was Henri?

  Then he spotted his friend, lying on the ground in front of the building’s doorway. Louis had to retrieve him. “Phillip, cover me!” he shouted just before he sprang to his feet and raced to Henri.

  Louis grabbed his friend and dragged him behind a stack of boxes. Henri was breathing.

  “I’m sorry,” his friend said in ragged breaths.

  “It’s all right, just relax. I’m going to get you out of here.” Louis assessed the wound. It was in the abdomen. He prayed the bullet had not hit anything vital.

  “Leave me. Get Pierre. He must know something. You need to finish this.” Henri passed out. A quick check of his pulse showed he was still alive. Henri was right—Louis had to get to Pierre. He yelled
for Phillip over the gunfire. His friend rushed over, dodging bullets until he reached them.

  “Take care of Henri. I’m going after Pierre.”

  “Be safe.”

  Louis checked his gun before weaving his way around the boxes to get close to where he had last seen Pierre. He peered around the corner but did not have sights on his target. The moon was full and cast its beams on the scene. Louis looked again and noticed a shadow, a human shadow, behind him. He whipped around in time to see Pierre aim a gun at him, but Louis was prepared. He got a shot off a split second before Pierre. The older man dropped to the ground.

  Louis crawled over to the prone body. Pierre was still breathing but would not be for long. Louis’s aim had been true and had hit Pierre straight in the chest.

  “Pierre, are you the Fox? Tell me!” He shook the injured man.

  In answer, he got a gurgling chuckle. Pierre’s lungs were filling with blood. “I tried so hard to please him.”

  “Please whom? Damn it, answer me!”

  “But it was you.” Pierre focused his glassy stare on Louis. “He wanted you at his side. All these years, everything I did, and it wasn’t enough. He loved you.” With those final words, Pierre went limp in his arms.

  There was only one person Pierre could have been referring to: André. It was impossible. Surely, he would have known if his godfather was a criminal mastermind. Louis was jarred out of his musings by a touch to his shoulder. Phillip stood beside him.

  “Where is Henri?” Louis asked.

  “My men are taking him to have his wounds tended. We captured or killed every one of our attackers.”

  The gunfire had ceased. Louis had been so focused on Pierre that he had failed to realize it was quiet.

  “Did he tell you anything?” Phillip inquired.

  “It was cryptic, but I think I know what he meant.”

  “Is he the Fox?”

  “No.” The letter Colette had read at Jacques’s office had said the Fox was going to be seeing the Americans personally. Was the letter a trap, or had the real Fox somehow learned of their trip abroad and changed tactics? A knot of dread twisted in his stomach. He had to go to Colette.