Daring the Duke (13 page)

Audrey breathed deeply. He had agreed. The tentative part was something she would worry about later.

He advanced toward her, rolling his sleeves, a lock of hair falling into his face. So male, so alive, all glistening and golden. There was such a deep hammering in her chest, she thought her heart might beat its way right out.

"What are you doing, Chalmers?"

"Sealing our deal."

A flurry of half-formed thoughts flew through her brain. "Uh, right." She thrust a hand toward him.

He grabbed her cold hand and pulled her toward him. His lips swept hers, and the half-formed thoughts scattered completely under his warmth.

He deepened the kiss, and she leaned into his heat. What would it be like to be loved by this man? To be in his arms every night? A taste of it, that’s all she craved. Just a taste, like a forbidden sweet.

She found her back against the wall and wondered where she had found the strength to move. He pressed into her, and she was sucked into the swirling heat he promised. His hands were in her hair, teasing. The forbidden delights. The oh-so-easy pleasure.

But he broke the kiss with a groan and laid his chin on top of her head.

"I’m not sure if this deal will be tormenting or fantastic, but it will not be boring."

He pulled away, his bare forearms brushing against her neck and making her shiver.

"When do we begin?" he asked.

She pushed upright and retrieved her papers with a shaking hand. He raised a brow, but didn’t take them back.

"Soon. Perhaps tomorrow. l need to gather a few more pieces of information. Will you be ready?" She was pleased to find her voice steady and strong.

"Yes. It might help if you shared everything with me though. I can be of more help than as just a key turner."

He reached over and tucked a dislodged piece of hair into her cap. She couldn’t think well this near to him, she needed to get away. She scooted to the window.

"I will talk to you later, Your Grace." And with that she disappeared through the window.

Stephen watched her disappear, then jotted down the names listed in her packet along with all of the details he had read. He would make some inquiries and see what was going on. He smiled. She had come to him, just as he had hoped she would.

At least from this angle things were looking up.

Audrey entered her rented house and put a shaking hand to her forehead.

He had agreed. He had agreed, but at what cost she did not yet know.

"Audrey, my dear, is that you?"

She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. Releasing her fingers one by one and inhaling deeply, she straightened and walked stiffly into the drawing room. Travers and Maddox were lounging in the chairs.

She glared at Travers. "What are you doing here?"

"Why, is that any way to talk to your benefactor? Have a cup of tea with us." Travers motioned her over. Maddox’s tea must have been at the bottom of the bottle of whiskey he was tipping.

"No, thank you. I need to change my clothing and leave again."

"No hurry, dear. There has been a slight change in tonight’s plans. I need you to attend Liddendock’s costume party. There are some papers there that you need to retrieve."

"What papers?"

"St. John’s."

She gritted her teeth. She had hoped the St. John task would come later.

The viscount made her nervous. "Why tonight?"

"Because he is meeting with his contact and plans to spend the night at Liddendock’s. The papers will be in his room."

"I need the particulars. Who is St. John meeting and when does the meeting take place? What if I get there too late?"

"Don’t bore me with such trifles, my dear. Those are things for you to worry about."

She smiled, baring her teeth. "Fine. Then give me my invitation."

"I’ve placed it in your room. Interesting decorating choices, although a bit sparse for my taste." He smirked, and she could imagine him pawing through her things.

"Stay out of my room, Travers."

She walked from the room, and his soft laugh followed her.

Audrey perched on her bed and looked around her room absently. Travers was correct. Her room reflected a spartan existence. She displayed very few personal possessions. A woman on the run couldn't be encumbered with material objects. She heard the front door slam and felt a spasm of relief. Enough thinking about the cretin’s observations; she needed to concentrate on the bigger picture. Travers and Chalmers were tools to get her sister back.

There was a knock at the front door. Audrey waited, but no one answered.

The knock sounded again. She trudged down the steps and opened the door

A liveried man stood on the steps and handed her a note. "For Miss Audrey Kendrick, from the Duke of Marston."

Audrey looked over her shoulder, but no one seemed to be around. She took the note and thanked the man’s timing. lf he had appeared while Travers was in residence, Travers would have snatched the note. Who knew what he would have done then.

She read the note. Chalmers was inviting her to accompany him to Liddendock’s party. She chewed her lip, fingered the note, and pondered her alternatives. Attending the affair with Chalmers would complicate her plans. But how could she gracefully decline, then appear at the gathering on her own? She knew he would identify her, and that would create a greater problem since she was supposed to be working with him now.

What was his motive? The timing of his request and Travers’s dictum seemed too coincidental. l

She looked at the servant, who was awaiting her response. "Tell His Grace that I will be prepared at the specified time."

The servant nodded and took his leave. Audrey watched him leave and retreated to her room to sort through her jumbled thoughts and plans.

She sprawled on her bed and mentally played scenarios until her maid entered the room to help her dress.

Audrey had many costumes from which to choose. Looking through her wardrobe she pulled out a white chiffon and decided to attend as the Goddess Diana. She draped the gown over one shoulder and tied a gold filigree cord at her waist. A quiver with arrows completed the outfit. The quiver contained a secret compartment designed specifically to conceal anything she might "pick up." Her maid styled her hair in a partial upsweep; a white ribbon trailed through the design, the ends of her hair dripping down her back. She tilted her head to the side. No loose-flowing curls, but it was a classic Greek style all the same, and for once the maid was agreeable. Their private talk had improved the girl’s attitude.

After the maid left, Audrey lifted her skirts and strapped her knives in place. It was a damn nuisance to be without sleeves. She heard the footman open the door, lifted her gloves, gold mask, quiver of arrows, and bow, and headed downstairs.

Stephen was dressed as a flamboyant highwayman, with a flowing cape, jaunty hat, and wicked mask. There was an appropriately dashing air about him. He smiled when he looked at her. "The huntress? How appropriate."

He slid a hand down her arm and clasped her hand.

"You look ravishing. Or ravishable. Which would you prefer?"

Her heart beat a different rhythm when he was near, and his words caused the odd staccato to intensify.

"I think I’ll go with ravishing for the moment."

"Well, in that case, I reserve the right to change your mind." A flurry of thrilled bumps raced up her arm as he lifted her hand to his arm and trailed his fingers over her knuckles.

She thanked the skies that no one was there to observe either her reaction or their departure together. Maddox must have taken himself off to some gaming hell, and Travers had not returned. The footman and the maid would probably make a full report to Travers, but she would deal with that later.

She peered at Stephen. He was such a hard man to read, constantly hiding behind his winks and grins. Her thoughts were bittersweet. Just a few more days, and she would never see him again.

He whispered in her ear, "Liddendock’s parties are a bit racy."

The warmth of his breath caused a shiver. "I know. But the partygoers will be much more interested in their own pursuits than in me."

"Nobody likes a person who doesn’t participate."

She frowned. "Well, I’m not going to participate in their sordid affairs, so we’ll just have to be unobtrusive."

"The Duke of Marston, unobtrusive? Never."

"Come now. No one even has to know it’s you."

She sensed his smile and wanted to throttle him.

Of course they would know it was him. The ton wasn’t brainless when it came to social intrigue. Only when it came to everything worthwhile.

"Wonderful. I suppose that means I’m your strumpet for the night."

"What a lovely offer. I accept."

"That wasn’t an offer!" She lowered her voice. It had gone high. "That wasn’t an offer, and you know it."

"I think it was an excellent offer. And I’ve already accepted."

She fingered the fabric concealing the steel in her garters. "I’ll take you apart piece by piece."

"Sounds delicious."

Fortunately, the carriage pulled up to Liddendock’s town house before she had a chance to respond. The carriage door opened, Stephen took her hand and helped her navigate the drive. A number of guests were enjoying the warm night and frolicking outdoors. A lusty buccaneer was chasing a scantily clad Cleopatra, and a gaudy Helen of Troy was accepting a thousand launched offers to join her for the night. A highwayman, a beggar, and a bard were actively engaged in the bidding and fondling.

Standing at the entrance, laughing heartily at the antics of his guests, stood Lord Liddendock. When Stephen and Audrey approached, his attention shifted. "Ah, Marston, welcome. And who is this lovely creature?"

His appreciative eyes focused on the low-cut expanse of her bodice.

Stephen raised her wrist and kissed the inside in a feathered caress. She shivered and a tingling began in the pit of her stomach.

"Diana, this is our host, Lord Liddendock."

Liddendock reached out, kissed the back of her hand, then trailed his tongue upward to her wrist. As if an adder had struck, she snatched her hand back. Liddendock frowned momentarily, and Audrey tried to cover her distaste with a smile, but it was a grimace at best.

Stephen pulled her close to his side. "She’s new to such pleasures."

Liddendock brightened. "Ah! Maybe you will be interested in some of the later entertainment in that case."

Stephen smiled blandly. "Perhaps."

Audrey fumed until they were beyond Liddendock’s hearing. "That dirty old sot," she growled.

Stephen burst out laughing as he escorted her inside. "Careful, my dear.

Our host may not appreciate your honesty."

The room was overcrowded. There were people everywhere. Stephen snatched two glasses of champagne and steered them toward a man dressed as Robin Hood. Audrey looked at the insipid and giggling Maid Marian standing to his side. There was no way she was going to waste a moment’s conversation on that woman.

Audrey spotted St. John across the room. He was one of many men dressed as a pirate. St. John had a streak of silver through his dark hair, which made him easy to recognize. She surveyed his associates and blanched when she met the eyes of a very sober Travers. Travers was appropriately dressed as a demon, and although he was chatting with St.

John, he was staring directly at her. She sipped her champagne and turned away. There was no need for the footman or the maid to spread the tale of her escort after all. The sooner she could get the papers the better.

Robin Hood was waving his hands, agitated about something, and Stephen was trying to calm him down. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Audrey ran a hand down Stephen’s arm and excused herself. He shot her a warning glance, but Audrey slipped away and followed a maid balancing a tray of champagne flutes. As the maid stepped into the hall, Audrey intercepted her.

"Pardon me. I was wondering if you could help me with a problem."

The maid balanced the tray and took her measure. Audrey slipped a coin from her pocket and clasped the maid’s hand.

The maid smiled and put the coin in her own pocket. "What can I do for you?"

"The man with the silver streak in his hair, Lord St. John, do you know which room is his?"

The maid nodded. "Lucky for you I do. Top of the stairs, turn right, and it's the fifth door on the left."

"Wonderful. Thank you." Audrey turned, but the maid put a hand on her arm. Audrey flinched at the contact but smiled politely.

"Other ladies have asked after his room. Lots of competition for that one."

Audrey thanked her again and returned to the ballroom. St. John was a notorious womanizer. The better for her--his penchant for debauchery would keep him occupied downstairs.

When she returned, Stephen lifted her hand and kissed it again. He had a mischievous look, and she frowned at him. He didn’t release her hand, but led her to a gaming room.

"I figured you could win me some money while we are here."

"Why are we here?"

"Some polite socializing. Establishing a partnership. That sort of dastardly political maneuvering. Hopefully it won’t tarnish your reputation too much."

She purposely trod on his toes, but her soft-soled shoes did no damage.