Chapter
12
"HE'S HERE, MISS HANNAH," Muriel said as she burst into Hannah's bedchamber.
Hannah was sitting in front of the mirror, trying to tame a curl that had broken free of the pins. Her insides were tied up in knots, and she wanted to look perfect for her outing with the duke. "Muriel, can you help me with this? This curl seems to have a mind of its own and will not stay pinned."
Muriel nodded and walked to her. "Miss Hannah, if I may suggest leaving the curl as is? It is quite pretty."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes, miss. You look lovely."
With one last look in the mirror, Hannah stood. "Very well. I mustn't keep the duke waiting," she said as she walked out of her room and down the stairs to the foyer.
The duke was waiting for her, looking divinely delicious in his form-fitting brown jacket, gold waistcoat, and beige breeches. She had to take a deep breath to calm her racing heart as she descended the stairs.
"Miss Richardson, I trust you are well today?" Camden asked.
Hannah nodded. "Very well, thank you, Your Grace."
"Excellent," he said, extending his arm. "Shall we go?"
She placed her hand on his arm, and he escorted her outside, where a footman was holding both his stallion's and her mare's reins. Lady Courtney looked radiant as she sat sidesaddle on her mare, patiently waiting for them to appear. Her blue riding habit complemented her fair skin and flattered the blue of her eyes. She was already a stunning beauty and was sure to attract many young men when she returned to London for her own Season.
Hannah smiled at her, and Lady Courtney's eyes lit up. "Good Morning, Miss Richardson."
"Hello, Lady Courtney. I trust you are well today?"
Courtney nodded. "Yes, very well. Thank you. I'm so pleased we can spend some time together."
The groom came forward with a stepping stool to assist Hannah.
Hannah stepped forward.
"There's no need for that," Camden said as he effortlessly lifted her up into the saddle.
Hannah squeaked at the unexpected contact of his hands on her waist. "Your Grace…"
Camden gave her a slow, sexy smile. "Shall I set you back down, Miss Richardson?"
A blush stole up Hannah's face, staining her cheeks pink. The Duke of Wetherby had surprised her again. Was there no end to how unpredictable he could be? What other surprises did he have in store for her today? She arranged her skirts and took the reins from the footman. "No, that will not be necessary, Your Grace. I'm ready."
CAMDEN SMILED AS HE swung into the saddle. The feeling of Hannah's small waist between his hands as he lifted her into the saddle had sent a wave of desire through his manhood. He wondered how it would feel to run his hands over her lush body without all that clothing to hamper his senses? He already knew what her sweet lips tasted like, and by the end of their ride in Hyde Park, he planned to taste them again. For now, he would be patient and let Hannah and Courtney become better acquainted.
"Ladies, shall we proceed?" he asked.
Courtney flicked the reins, and her mare began walking toward the park. Hannah's mare followed suit, with Camden following behind them.
"I'm so very glad you are able to join us today, Miss Richardson," Lady Courtney said with a slight smile. "Have you been riding in Hyde Park before?"
"No, I've not had the opportunity. When my parents agreed to let me have a Season, I was so excited that I forgot to ask about bringing my horse."
"Well, we have plenty of horses to share whenever you'd like to ride."
"Thank you. That is generous of you."
"Not me, but my brother," Lady Courtney said, looking over her shoulder at him. "Wetherby has taken such good care of Mother and I while we've been in London."
"It is my pleasure, sister dear to always take care of you whether in London or in the country." Camden was pleased to see Courtney so talkative today. On any given day, she hardly spoke more than ten words unless specifically asked a question. He thought that his mother was too harsh with the girl and it had caused Courtney to retreat into a shell of silence, afraid she might say the wrong thing. If she didn't talk, their mother would have nothing to criticize. He'd had no idea the depth of Courtney's unhappiness until he became the Duke of Wetherby and spent more time with both of them. Numerous conversations with his mother had at least lessened the tight grip she had on Courtney, and it was one of the reasons he had wanted them to come to London. The more confidence she had before her own Season, the better Courtney would enjoy it.
Hannah and Courtney were having a lively conversation about the latest fashions, and for the first time in a long while, Camden saw a spark of excitement in Courtney's eyes. Hannah was such a good influence on his sister; if all went according to plan, she would continue to have that influence for a long time to come. He would make sure of it.
"My brother has been so generous, and I have the loveliest gown to wear to the Ashford ball. I dare say I'm looking forward to attending. I hope that you will be there as well?"
"Yes, I will. I'm looking forward to it as well."
"Wetherby is an excellent dancer."
Hannah crinkled her eyes and looked behind her. "Oh? I'm afraid I wouldn't know. His Grace asked me to dance at Lady Tisbury's dinner party, but when the dance was called, he was nowhere to be found."
Camden trotted up next to them. "An oversight, I assure you, Miss Richardson. I had pressing business to attend to and would not have left so abruptly if it could have been avoided. Perhaps you'll grace me with a second chance? Would you be so kind as to grant me the honor of the supper dance at the Ashford ball?"
Hannah's eyes flashed, but he wasn't sure if she was surprised or infuriated by his request, especially since she was probably unsure about his reaction to the slap she'd given him, if her nervousness at yesterday's tea was any indication. He planned to talk with her about it later today, although she might not be too happy with what he would propose to rectify the situation.
When Hannah didn't answer right away, Camden asked, "Has someone else requested that dance?"
Hannah shook her head. "No, Your Grace. I will be delighted to reserve that dance for you."
Camden tipped his hat to her and fell in behind the two young women once again.
"You'll see what a fine dancer he is at the ball," Courtney said, excitement lighting her eyes.
"I'm sure I will."
By the time the trio headed back to the Tisbury townhouse, Camden was quite certain he had seen no untoward interest in their party while they were riding in Hyde Park. If someone was targeting the Crown's spies, the busy Hyde Park would be the perfect place for an ambush. An assassin could easily slip away in the aftermath of the confusion that followed. But nothing out of the ordinary had been apparent. Even so, his eyes had constantly scanned the area in case danger lurked nearby.
A footman came out with a stool to help Hannah dismount, but Camden was there first. "No need for that," he said. "If you would hold Lady Courtney's horse while I help Miss Richardson down from her mount?"
"Yes, Your Grace," the young man said, holding both horses' reins.
Hannah swung her leg over the pommel while Camden reached up and encircled her waist with his hands. He slowly set her on the ground, but not before whispering in her ear, "Wait near the white roses in one hour. I wish to discuss your actions of late."
Hannah's eyes widened. "Your Grace…" she stuttered.
Camden lifted his hat and bowed to her. "Miss Richardson, thank you for accompanying my sister on her ride today. Good day."
Before Hannah had a chance to say another word, he swung up into the saddle, and he and Courtney nudged their horses into a gentle walk.
HANNAH PICKED UP THE skirts of her riding habit and raced into the townhouse. Luckily, both her aunt and Isabel were out for the afternoon.
Otherwise, they would surely have seen how flushed she was. She had thought the duke had forgiven her for her impetuous slap, but it was obvious he had not forgotten the slight.
"Miss Hannah, how was your ride?" Muriel asked as she came into the foyer.
Hannah took a calming breath. She had no intention of alerting Muriel that anything was amiss. "It was lovely. Lady Courtney was most pleasant company."
"And what of His Grace?"
"He was our escort, nothing more," Hannah said, starting up the stairs. "I would like to change now."
Muriel scampered after her. "Of course, Miss Hannah. I've laid out the yellow muslin day dress for you."
Hannah barely heard Muriel as she entered her bedchamber. She looked at the dress Muriel had laid out for her and shook her head. "Not this one today. I'd like to wear the blue dress."
Muriel scooped up the dress and hung it up in the armoire before retrieving the one Hannah had requested. "Of course, Miss Hannah."
Hannah unpinned her hat, and her chestnut curls fell down her back. "Dear me, I've ruined all your fine work."
Muriel laid the dress over the chair and helped Hannah out of her riding habit. "No harm done, Miss Hannah. I'll fix it."
"Thank you, Muriel. I don't know what I'd do without you."
By the time Muriel finished helping Hannah change and attending to her unruly hair, forty minutes had passed. Hannah stood, grabbed a shawl, and said, "I'll shall be in the rose garden."
"Very good, Miss Hannah," Muriel said, scooping up the riding habit and boots and slipping out the door.
Hannah took a last glance in the mirror before making her way down the stairs. As she walked through the garden to the path that would lead her to the white roses, her stomach was queasy. She had no idea what the duke would say to her. Her insides roiled with trepidation. Was this the day she would be ruined, only halfway through her Season? How would she ever face anyone again? She'd be mortified, and she seriously doubted she would garner any suitors after this, especially if they knew what she'd done. She would be labeled loose and she feared no gentleman of good breeding would approach her. And what of her aunt and uncle? They had been nothing but kind in allowing her to stay with them, and the last thing Hannah wanted to do was embarrass them. But there was nothing to be done about it now. Her future was in the hands of the Duke of Wetherby, but exactly what would he do with it?
Nearing the bed of white roses, she looked around for the duke, but he was nowhere in sight. She was too wound up to sit on the bench, so she began pacing, while she waited for him to appear. She shivered and pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders while she walked back and forth.
"Please don't ruin me. Please don't ruin me," she whispered, fretting about the outcome of this encounter.
"I have no intention of ruining you, Miss Richardson," came the deep gravelly voice behind her.
Hannah whipped around to see the Duke of Wetherby, as handsome as ever, standing by a rose bush. How had he managed to appear without her seeing him or even hearing his approach? "You don't?" she stammered as she curtseyed.
"No. I do not. Whatever gave you that impression?"
"Well, you demanded to see me today so…"
Wetherby stepped closer to her and reached for her hand. "There was no demand. You could have refused me."
"I could?"
"Yes," he said, kissing her knuckles. "But…"
Hannah inhaled sharply as his lips grazed her hand. How she longed for those lips to kiss her again. When she realized he had stopped talking, she looked into his face and found that his eyes had softened.
She swallowed the hard lump constricting her throat. "But what, Your Grace?"
A smile dangled on the edges of his lips. "You did slap me, and after kissing me so ardently too so I believe a penance must be paid," he said in a most intimate tone.
"Penance?" His unrelenting stare sent a shiver racing down her spine. Was it terror or desire? She did not know; she only knew that he had captivated her with a look.
"Yes, and your penance will be one kiss. Without the slap at the end, of course."
Before she could respond, he pulled her into his arms. His lips captured hers, and she became lost in the sensations of the kiss. Her lips parted, and he deepened the kiss while his tongue explored every inch of her mouth. A cascade of emotions roiled through her, and the only thing she knew at that moment was that she did not want the kiss to end. This must be what heaven was like, she thought, because her heart soared with unbounded joy.
When the duke broke the kiss, she felt bereft at the loss of him. Her lips were swollen from the kiss, and her cheeks were flushed. More than anything she'd ever wanted before, she wanted the Duke of Wetherby to kiss her again.
"Your Grace," she said in a breathless whisper.
"Yes, Miss Richardson?"
"Do you think one kiss is indeed enough penance?"
She saw his eyes widen slightly. "No, I do not," Wetherby half-growled as he pulled her close again and began to devour her lips like a man quenching his thirst in the desert.
Chapter
13
CAMDEN SLIPPED OUT THE HIDDEN gate in the Tisbury garden, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. What was happening to him? He was a hardened soldier and spy—always, his duty had come first. It was that singular focus and dedication that had made him the best spy in the Crown's service and why he was the spymaster. He was treading on dangerous ground here and knew he should not develop feelings for anyone, especially not an innocent like Miss Hannah Richardson. His line of work was too dangerous to invite a wife into his life. Wife? Was that where his feelings were leading him? No, it could not be. He had vowed never to marry. The grief-stricken face of Henry's widow flashed across his mind. He had vowed he would not put any woman through that kind of heartache.
It was not possible.
He would never marry.
Then why couldn't he stop thinking about Hannah? Her quick wit, her enviable curves and those soft sweet lips continually crept into his thoughts. He had to get control of his feelings. This could not be. With sure and determined steps, he strode away, heading towards White's and a much-needed brandy. It didn't take him long to reach the club, and once inside the establishment, he saw Charles having a lively discussion about politics at a corner table.
"Wetherby, nice of you to join us," Charles said, waving him over to the group. "What brings you here so early today?" he asked, slurring his words slightly.
It was not their usual habit to meet at White's so early in the day, and the fact that Charles looked to have been here for a while and was well into his cups put Camden on edge. The brash, young Viscount of Edgerton was a valuable asset to the Crown, and Camden wondered why he was here. With his handsome face, stunning blue eyes, and ability to charm the ladies at will, Charles had gathered more useful intelligence than any of the other spies under Camden's direction. His being drunk in the middle of the day didn't bode well for either of them. Something was afoot, and Camden was determined to find out what.
"Nothing more than a good brandy," he said as he took a seat opposite his friend.
A waiter appeared at Camden's side. "Brandy." He looked at his friend. "Charles, another?"
Charles nodded, and the waiter scurried away to fill the order.
The conversation resumed while Camden waited for his brandy. He was only half-listening to the men as they debated the pros and cons of some bill before the House of Lords. His mind was on other matters, not the least of which was Hannah Richardson. She was unpredictable—innocent and sweet one moment and a little wildcat of indignation the next. She was just what he wanted in a wife—not some simpering young woman who never shared her true opinions on anything.
The others droned on. After endlessly discussing the bill, which was due to come up for vote within the week, the other men departed, leaving Cha
rles and Camden alone.
Camden leaned forward, grabbing his second glass of brandy, and whispered, "What are you doing here this early in the day?"
Charles gave a quick look around to make sure no one was particularly interested in their conversation and immediately lost the glazed look he had maintained during the discussion with the other lords. "A necessary ruse to try to verify some information. A source tells me a certain lady of our acquaintance has been seen on the docks and looking far too interested in the layout."
"Was she alone?"
"No, her husband's man of business was with her."
"What was the nature of her business?"
"Evidently, checking on cargo deliveries and spending large sums of Sargent's money. "
Camden nodded. "I understand. Sargent has wasted far too much time before settling down. His mortality is becoming all too real to him so he most likely is indulging his young wife for the Season in the hopes she will settle down and give him an heir."
"Agreed and it has not gone unnoticed by some of our fellow lords who were talking earlier that Sargent is being much too lenient with his wife's behavior letting her go down to the docks without him. It seems Sargent will do anything to placate his young wife before they retire to the country, including letting her spend his money at will. He wants an heir, and he wants it now."
"Is that all?"
"For the moment, yes."
Camden leaned back in his chair, swirling the last of the brandy in his glass. "It might be nothing, but she must be watched. I remind you again, Charles, not to go anywhere alone with her should you get an invitation to do so."
Charles nodded. "Duly noted."
The two men sat contemplating this latest development. It could be another clue into who was killing the Crown's spies. Why would Lady Sargent go to the docks to inspect the cargo when Sargent's man could easily have taken care of it and reported back to her? Her interest in the layout of the docks was troubling. Was it nothing more than curiosity or was there a more sinister motive?
Dare to Love a Spy (Book 3, Age of Innocence) Page 8