The Beauty and the Spy (7 page)

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Authors: Gayle Callen

BOOK: The Beauty and the Spy
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Chapter 7

Every relationship formed is a vulnerability for a political agent, one which can come back to haunt you.

The Secret Journals of a Spymaster

N
ick was the first thing Charlotte saw when she awoke. He was much closer this time, also turned on his side, staring at her. When he looked at her mouth, all her plans from the previous evening flew out of her head. She felt the warmth of his breath, the intensity of his regard as he seemed to study each part of her face. She couldn't move, frozen in place by a feeling so very foreign to her—so very exciting.

She told herself she was lying there to placate him, but that was a lie.

She told herself she would understand him bet
ter if she waited to see what he would do. That was a lie, too.

When he leaned toward her, it was all she could do not to let these powerful feelings overwhelm her. Instead she watched this confident, arrogant man hesitate, then gently brush her lips with his.

His touch was rain-shower soft, moist, so very different than anything she'd ever experienced. Each small kiss was a separate exploration of her lips, from the corners to the full bottom. She breathed in the scent of him, her eyes half closed as she immersed herself in the wondrous sensations.

She thought she heard him faintly groan as he nibbled at her bottom lip, drawing it gently into his mouth to exert a soft sucking pressure. Something shuddered to life deep inside her, awakening her to a rising passion she'd never experienced before.

She gasped and they came apart, both breathing heavily, both staring at each other in surprise. Then his eyes narrowed, and he cursed and rolled to sit on the edge of the bed. The rope that bound them together gave a gentle tug on her wrist, and she remembered that he'd had to bind her to keep her in bed with him.

Once her husband had tied her up for his pleasure, and the humiliation had made her cry and beg to be freed. So why did she now feel something fleeting, something unnameable for Nick?
Was she doomed to keep repeating the mistakes of her past? She didn't even know his full name!

Biting her lip to hold back a sob, Charlotte rolled away from him, only to have her right arm caught behind her by the rope.

“Wait, I'll release you,” he said coldly.

She didn't turn back, but a moment later her arm was free. She drew it back to hug herself, shivering. To her surprise he pulled the blanket up over her.

“Go back to sleep,” he said. “It's early.”

She didn't think she'd be able to, as her thoughts roared with confusion in her head. Surely her plan to placate him didn't include accepting his advances.

She must have eventually dozed, because when next she was aware of her surroundings, she could hear low voices in conversation.

“Julia is still heading north,” Sam said. “But she's moving at such a leisurely pace, making no attempt at secrecy, that I can't believe she knows we're on to her.”

“I wonder if Campbell said anything about my blackmail attempt?” Nick asked. “You'd think she'd be in more of a hurry then.” He sounded impatient and frustrated, a man who wanted to be moving, but couldn't.

“Regardless, I think she's definitely putting in an appearance at Kelthorpe's house party.”

“Good,” Nick answered. “That's where I've
sent Will. He's heading to Yorkshire anyway, with the girl he's engaged to.”

“So he agreed to return to the service?”

“No…but he agreed to help us just this once. He's out of the army, ready for a new life. I can't take that away from him, not after all he's been through.”

Charlotte wondered if they knew she was listening, if this was all an act for her benefit. But why? Wouldn't real criminals just dispose of her, rather than try to make her think they were on England's side?

“What did he have to say about Julia?” Sam asked, and Charlotte could hear reluctance in his quiet voice.

“He was surprised at her duplicity. Frankly, I told him I wish I would have killed her.”

She stiffened as the cold loathing in Nick's voice unnerved her. Whenever her feelings softened toward him, she should remember this moment.

“No, Nick, you can't do this to yourself,” Sam said sadly. “We couldn't have known what she was capable of. I've known her since childhood, and I suspected nothing.”

“You were with her brother more than her. Whereas I was in her bed.”

The bitterness in Nick's voice confused her. He'd had a relationship with this woman he claimed was now a traitor? If he really was a spy for England, that must make him feel…even more betrayed.

But he was holding Charlotte prisoner. If he wanted Julia dead, couldn't he easily kill Charlotte, too?

Yet both men sounded so—convincing.

In a low, furious voice, Nick said, “Do you know what it's like to have a woman under your control, to think there was…something between you, when all the while she's trying to betray you and everything you stand for? If I would have killed her, then maybe the army wouldn't have been slaughtered.”

Charlotte hadn't heard this part of his story, and she couldn't imagine the kind of person who could be responsible for so many deaths, let alone a woman.

“You did what you could then, just like you're doing now. We'll capture her. And with Will on the inside, we can't fail.”

Nick lowered his voice, and a touch of amusement crept in. “It didn't go well when I told him who I had hostage.”

Though she wanted to hold her breath with anticipation, she forced herself to breathe deeply, normally. She opened her eyes the barest slits, so she could see the two men sitting in chairs before the hearth, leaning close together.

“Why?” Sam asked. “Surely he understood the necessity.”

Something was wrong. Sam looked different, but she didn't want to stare just yet.

“When you were following him,” Nick contin
ued, “didn't you ever wonder who he was engaged to?”

Suddenly he turned to look at her, followed by Sam, who was wearing some sort of wig. Sam looked confused until his face cleared with understanding—and worry. Charlotte found herself staring back at them, not caring if they knew she was awake. Why did they look at her as they discussed some girl Will was—

Will? Heading for Yorkshire? Were they referring to…William Chadwick, her sister's future husband?

“Now Charlotte—” Nick began.

Thinking only of protecting her sister, she bolted out of bed and ran for the door. Nick caught her easily, holding her tight to his body. Facing him, she squirmed and pushed at his chest, feeling the hard pressure of his hips, but more concerned about her sister than the threat to herself.

“You're talking about William Chadwick!” She hit him hard enough in the stomach that she heard his breath catch.

“Yes, we are. Now stop struggling, or I'll have to tie you up again.”

He gave her a last tight squeeze, which, through her thin, old dress, allowed her to feel the hard, muscular length of his body. She gasped and went still. Before he pushed her away, she felt his erection against her stomach. Though she experienced a momentary anxiety, she forced it
from her mind. Her sister's very happiness was at stake!

She put her hands on her hips and glared up at Nick. “You must let me go! I have to warn my sister.”

“Warn her about what?” he asked, leaning back against the door and crossing his arms over his chest. He glanced at Sam, who raised his palms as if to say he was staying out of it.

Charlotte was briefly distracted. Was Sam wearing…cosmetics? But she forced herself to turn away and glare at Nick. “That Lord Chadwick is one of you!”

“Will left the military. He's starting a whole new life with your sister. That's why he—”

Nick stopped himself, but not in time. He could see Charlotte's worry turn to suspicion, and he heaved a sigh.

“That's why he what?” she demanded, advancing on him.

She was so tiny; what was she going to do—shove him aside? “He wanted to be alone with Jane, so he made sure you were absent. He procured an invitation he didn't think you could resist. He didn't know about the meeting I'd planned with Campbell.”

Her mouth opened and closed, but she didn't seem to be able to find the words.

“He wanted to be alone so he could—compromise Jane?” she gasped out.

She looked as if she was ready to take on the
world to defend her family. Hell, this wasn't good. More and more he admired her, more and more he had to force away thoughts of getting her into bed. The excuses were varied in his head—she wasn't a virgin, she hadn't gotten pregnant while married. But the biggest obstacle of all was that he knew himself too well: he would grow to care for her, and he had vowed he wouldn't let that happen again until he was done working for the government. He wasn't leaving the army yet, no matter how his family thought they could trap him.

Yet like a fool, he'd kissed Charlotte. He'd tormented himself with a taste of her sweet lips. It had been a long time since he'd slept with a woman, because he was not a man to take what was offered and leave.

He couldn't leave Charlotte, and for a moment she'd been very willing to have him stay in bed with her.

But now she was looking so affronted that he raised both hands to placate her. “Will just wanted the chance to get to know Jane. You do remember how that felt when you were engaged to your husband?”

A strange look he couldn't read came over her face. He suspected it didn't involve happy memories. Was her marriage not as idyllic as he thought?

Through gritted teeth she said, “And so he disposed of me by putting me in your way?”

“He didn't know I would be at Arbury's. He didn't even know I was back in the country. I've already told you, he's out of the military, done with spying.”

“Even if I believe any of this, now thanks to you he'll be putting my sister in danger.”

That's what Will had worried about, and though it made Nick uneasy, they had no choice. “There's nothing dangerous in a duke's house party. Julia might be marrying Kelthorpe—she wouldn't risk exposing herself.”

“This woman you're chasing is going to marry a duke?”

“Yes. Now don't you see why it's so important that we have the evidence to stop her? The Duke of Kelthorpe is related to Queen Victoria. Can you imagine the scandal should Julia marry into that family?”

She looked frozen with indecision, until she finally covered her face and turned away. “I can't listen to you! I don't know what to believe! All I know is that you're holding me against my will—and now I discover you've embroiled my sister in all this danger—and she doesn't even know it! She never read my father's journals, she won't understand—”

When she broke off, looking horrified, he read her face as easily as any newspaper.

“He kept journals? He let you read them?” Nick was stunned that the colonel would ever do something so foolish.

“Oh don't worry,” she said bitterly, “they prove nothing. He doesn't even use real names. It's Mr. West this, and Mr. South that.”

He tensed as she recited Will's and Sam's code names, then exchanged a look with Sam.

“I found them hidden—he certainly didn't allow me to read them. But I kept them to myself,” she said, lowering her voice and slumping down to sit on the bed. “I should have showed them to Jane. They might have better prepared her to figure out what Lord Chadwick is up to.”

“And did they prepare you?” Nick asked.

She wore a sad smile, and to his surprise a single tear slid down her cheek. “If I hadn't read them I never would have followed you out of the ballroom.”

When he'd been walking through the ballroom, intent on his meeting, he had still noticed her. Her face and figure had penetrated his determination, almost distracting him.

“My foolish head was filled with intrigues,” she said sadly. “It was so good to have something else to think about after—after everything that had happened.”

She must mean her husband's death. Had she loved him that much?

“So when I saw you looking so suspicious—” she said.

“I didn't look suspicious.”

Nick heard Sam abruptly laugh, then choke it off when Nick glared at him.

Though she looked as if she were thinking of other things, Charlotte slowly shook her head. “No one at a ball moves with as much purpose as you did. And then when you went into that private corridor—what was I supposed to think?”

“That I belonged there?” he answered dryly.

“I just knew you didn't. I thought—I thought maybe I had some of Papa in me after all.”

“You definitely have some of him in you,” Nick said shortly.

Sam cleared his throat. “I've got to get back to Julia.”

Nick had the absurd wish to make Sam stay. Did he now think he needed protection from a single small woman? But all Nick did was nod.

“I'll return when I have news.”

“We'll start heading north. We'll keep to the pre-arranged roads. And do me a favor—when Will's coachman Barlow has time on his hands at Langley Manor, have him deliver this note to London for Campbell. Everything's spelled out inside.”

Charlotte glanced briefly at Sam, and then she stared as if she hadn't really looked at him before. Nick hadn't had the chance to explain Sam's penchant for disguises. As Sam stood up out of the shadows and took the note, his cloak flowed out over a skirt. Sam knew he was being stared at, so with a fluidity surprising in a man, he sank into a curtsy before Charlotte.

As a slow smile spread across her face, she said, “Take off the cloak.”

Wearing a grin, Sam dramatically whirled the cloak from his shoulders. Though he was not a very broad, muscular man, it seemed ridiculous to see him in a woman's red dress, buttoned clear up to his neck, and fully flounced with petticoats that spread his skirts wide.

Charlotte said to Sam, “Surely you realize you fool no one with that
disguise
.”

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