The Sanctuary (A Spencer Novel) (15 page)

Chapter 27

There was so much more Anthony wanted to say, but years of guarding his emotions left him hesitant.

Clairece’s eyes welled with tears. “I cannot. I wish it were possible, but—”

He came to his feet and caught her to him. “Talk to me.”

“I told you avenging Roger’s death must stay uppermost in my mind. After all he did for me, it is the least I can do. Although I gained much from my marriage, I also lost by my impetuous act. I don’t want to make another rash decision.”

“What you lost, is it something I cannot give you?” He lifted her chin. “I can promise you passion, fidelity, and a family with as many children as you would like.”

She moved away from him.

He considered his next statement carefully. “Clairece, this I will promise you. If, after those responsible for Roger’s death are brought to justice, you are unhappy and not with child, I will release you.”

She stared at him, as if trying to judge his sincerity.

“It would not be easy, but I would do it. Above all else, I want your happiness.”

She cupped his face in her hands. “Then yes. I will marry you. I hope you do not come to regret this, Anthony.”

“Never.” Anthony pressed his lips to hers. He would never lament marrying her, but if he had to let her go, it would most likely kill him.

At a knock on the door, he crossed to answer. A bellman wheeled in a cart containing a teapot under a cozy and several covered dishes. Anthony dropped a few coins in the man’s hand and sent him on his way.

One by one, Anthony lifted the covers from the serving platters and found baked eggs, sausages, and thick-sliced ham. Another held griddlecakes and a pitcher of blueberry syrup.

He uncovered the next tray. Clairece raised a questioning brow. “What are those?”

“Kippers. Dried, smoked salmon.” He pointed to the second bowl. “This is kedgeree. It’s made of a mild tasting, cooked and flaked fish with boiled rice, parsley, hard-boiled eggs, and different spices, one of which is curry. You should try it.”

The last serving platter contained freshly baked scones with a bowl of jam.

Anthony fixed a plate with a small helping of kedgeree and handed it to her, waiting for her response. She took a forkful and chewed. “It’s good.” She took another bite.

He grinned and piled food on his own plate.

Clairece settled back with a cup of tea and watched with amusement as Anthony worked his way through a mound of sausages, ham, and baked eggs before helping himself to the kedgeree and kippers.

She sipped her tea, pondering her situation. She was alone in a room with a man she’d known for little over a week, one she’d just agreed to marry, was on her way to his estate in Somerset, and, lest she forget, was pursued by a crazed killer who seemed intent on murdering them both. After three failed attempts, it now appeared the miscreant openly stalked her.

How she would explain any of this to her family, she had no idea. They’d loved her through her past mistakes and losses, and would do so again should her marriage to Anthony prove a disaster. That was what their family did.

She glanced at Anthony. She cared for a man whose life was in England, while hers was in America. She had no idea how to blend them. Both her mother and aunt were English and had made their home in Texas, content with the life there. Could she be happy in England?

Anthony looked up and smiled. “You ate little.”

“I had more than usual.” She took another sip of tea.

He blotted his lips and discarded the napkin. “While I was out, I located a clergyman who agreed to marry us. Will you come with me, Clairece? Will you marry me?”

Clairece peered at her hand. A diamond and sapphire ring now lay alongside the gold band.

Anthony’s arms came around her and eased her back against his chest. “Come away from the window, sweetheart. You make a tempting target standing as you are.”

He helped her to one of the two armchairs nestled near the warm hearth, and covered her lap with a throw. “I have something for you.” He retrieved a small, wrapped package from his pocket and placed it in her palm.

Clairece untied the ribbon and gazed into the bag. “How did you know I like peppermints?”

His smile broadened. “I tasted it on your lips that first night.”

“We can do this, can’t we?”

“Yes, love. We can, and we will.”

Clairece rose gracefully to her feet and moved toward him, all swaying hips and seductive glances. Anthony felt the smile leave his face. His mouth went dry. He tried to swallow and couldn’t. She presented her back and he noted his hands shook as he worked the row of buttons free of their moorings.

She pivoted to face him. In one, smooth, slide, the dress slithered from her shoulders. Little by little, her full breasts were revealed as the material covering them slid down. He shuddered.

She stepped over the pile of lavender and stood before him, clad only in her thin chemise, delicate stockings, and garters. An exquisite woman, she sent his pulses racing. Her eyes glowed as she stared into his.

The minx was seducing him. He shifted in the chair to relieve the pressure of trousers gone uncomfortably tight. As she glided toward him in all her sensual splendor, he was reminded again of the woman who had come to him on New Year’s Eve.

Lifting a dainty foot, she set it on the chair beside him. Her fingers slipped beneath the lace garter in invitation. As if orchestrated, he drew her hand away and loosened the ribbons. Removing her slipper, he rolled the sheer stocking down her leg and over her foot.

She shifted, and brought her right foot to his hands. After dutifully removing the last garter and stocking, he slid his palm up to the silken skin of her thigh.

She tugged on the ribbons holding her chemise together and performed an erotic little shimmy. The thin material slid over her shoulders and down her arms. Firm, round breasts, the nipples already hardened to peaks, rose temptingly before him. Before he could draw one pink-colored tip into his mouth, she lowered her foot and the chemise fell in a whisper of silk.

Clairece leaned forward and whispered against his ear, “Your clothes, my lord.”

Anthony quickly divested himself of coat and waistcoat, tearing at his cravat, reaching for her.

At a sharp rap on the door, Clairece shrieked and hastily gathered articles of clothing strung about the room.

She disappeared into the adjoining bedchamber to return wearing his robe. Placing her behind him, Anthony swung the door open.

A man filled the threshold. The stranger’s gaze slid over them and settled on Anthony. Lethal intent shone in those black eyes.

“
Don
Philippe!” Clairece uttered a squeak of delight.

Chapter 28

Bloody hell
.

Anthony knew exactly who this man was. The Spaniard’s sharp-eyed regard moved from him to Clairece, dressed only in a man’s robe, and past them to the adjoining chamber with the bed and its rumpled sheets.

Before Anthony could react, he was grabbed by the front of his shirt and lifted bodily from the floor. A low growl rumbled in the other man’s chest, and Anthony landed with a teeth-jarring thud across the room.

Anthony bounded to his feet as Philippe prowled toward him. “Go to the next room, Clairece. Now!”

“You heard the man,
niña
. It is best you not witness this.” Philippe closed the door behind him.

A more dangerous man, Anthony had yet to meet. The Spaniard exuded such a chilling presence, no one in his right mind could mistake the aura of menace surrounding him.

Philippe advanced, not so much a stride, as the stalking of a predatory animal.

“It’s all right, truly it is!” Clairece shrieked.

“Sweetheart, leave the room.” Anthony pointed toward the bedroom.

Surprise flickered in the other man’s eyes.

Clairece eased between them. “This isn’t what it looks like—well perhaps it is a little—”

“Love, you’re not helping.” Anthony eased her aside.

“Those bruises, who is responsible?” Philippe flung his heavy cape open to reveal a pistol tucked neatly into a shoulder holster.

Clairece yelped. “The man who killed Roger did this. Anthony saved me and took me to stay with him.”

Philippe glanced at the bed. “At what price?”

“Now just a minute,” Anthony began.

Clairece blushed. “He didn’t do anything I didn’t want. It was wonderful and—”

“I am happy you feel that way, dearest, but believe me, you are making things worse,” Anthony inserted.

“On the contrary,
señor
, I find it enlightening.”

Right, you’ll kill me quickly instead of slowly.

Clairece clasped the Spaniard’s arm, seemingly unaware of the damage this man could do in a blink of an eye. “I may be carrying his child, and—”

Philippe uttered an oath and lifted Clairece out of the way.

“We’re married.” She held up her hand to show Philippe her rings.

This man is ready to make you a widow, my love
.

Philippe’s expression changed subtly. “Is this so?”

“Yes, and there is no way in hell I will let you, or anyone else, take her from me.” Anthony braced himself for the anticipated fight.

“And I’ll fight, too.” Clairece, his will-o-the-wisp woman, stood stiff with defiance, looking as convincing as a woman could while holding her lover’s robe closed over her obviously naked body.

Anthony’s lips twitched. She was magnificent in a temper. He glanced at Philippe who dipped his head to conceal a grin.

“It won’t come to that, will it,
Don
Philippe?” Anthony ventured. “We’re reasonable men”—Clairece gave an indignant little snort—“and when we explain . . . stop making those little faces, darling. It’s hard to concentrate.”

“Lord Harding, I presume?” Philippe growled.

“Anthony Wade, Earl of Harding, at your service.” Anthony sketched a bow.

Philippe gave a deferential nod. “It would seem we owe you a debt of gratitude. I know little of what has transpired, only that one of ours was in danger and I was summoned.” He glanced at Clairece. “If you do not mind,
niña
, I would see the extent of your injury.”

So strong was her faith and trust in this man that, without hesitation, Clairece slid the robe off one shoulder and tilted her head for him to see her neck. A slender leg appeared from between the folds of the robe. Anthony wasn’t certain if what he felt was surprise or jealousy.

Philippe’s expression hardened. “Whoever did this will pay, and pay dearly. Never does a man hurt a woman this way, and never one of ours.” He carefully lifted the robe back in place. “Get dressed, little one.”

Philippe crossed to look out the window while Anthony helped Clairece into the next room.

When they returned from the bedchamber, Anthony noted the Spaniard had seated himself in the chair near the casement. In the light from the window, shadings of gray at the man’s temples were revealed. Hair and eyes that had appeared black were deep brown, as was the goatee and mustache. Anthony studied the patrician features, starkly evident in the sun-bronzed face.

Clairece reached for the candlestick telephone. “Would you care for some tea or coffee or something stronger? Perhaps something to eat?”

“
Gracias
. Whatever is available would be most welcome. I came as quickly as possible, and chose to wait in this hotel for further instruction. A Mister Anthony Wade and wife were also registered. I thought you might be one and the same.”

“It seemed the safest way.” Anthony settled into a chair across from Philippe’s. From the look in the other man’s eyes, the jury was still out. However, a truce had been called.

The food arrived and Clairece removed the covers from the various dishes. The savory aroma of game pie and fresh baked bread filled the room. The last tray contained fruit and cheese. Pitchers of Winter Ale and coffee, and a pot of tea, were provided for their pleasure.

Anthony and Philippe dug in with gusto, using the bread to sop up the thick gravy. After a few bites, Clairece pushed her plate away.

“Sweetheart, you must eat something.” Anthony swallowed a gulp of ale.

Clairece set her napkin aside and leaned back. “I’m not hungry.” The late afternoon sun shone directly on her face, revealing dark smudges beneath her eyes.

Anthony came to his feet. “You should rest before the carriage arrives.”

Upon rising, Clairece swayed against the side of the chair. Anthony swept her up in his arms. “Excuse me for a moment,
Don
Philippe.”

Philippe came to his feet and nodded.

After tucking her in, Anthony drew the draperies closed. “Sleep, sweetheart.” Returning to the sitting room, he found Philippe pacing restlessly. The man was like a caged tiger.

“Tell me what happened, and leave nothing out,” Philippe ordered.

Anthony resumed his seat and explained the events leading to their flight from London, omitting only the most personal details of his and Clairece’s first encounter. “I would like to believe I’m able to protect her, but I’m not willing to risk her life in the event I’m wrong.”

“Your decision to send for us was a wise one. You say this man was in the garden?”

“Yes. The planned subterfuge should have made him follow the carriages. Instead, he tracked us to the train station.” Anthony downed his ale. “We now believe the man with the scar works for someone who fears Clairece can identify him.”

“The man at the museum, the one who caught her when she slipped?” Philippe ventured.

Anthony inclined his head. “And now, directly or indirectly, he is responsible for the deaths of three people, one of which was Roger Griffin.”

“Why would this man sell the relic and later retrieve it?”

“I believe, once he realized it was a royal artifact, he thought to destroy all traces of his involvement with the collar, including witnesses.”

“Why did he not kill her two years ago?” Philippe’s expression gave little away.

“It is my understanding she went to stay at Spencer Ranch, removing her from their reach. As near as they knew, nothing followed concerning the incident and there was no need to dispose of her. Clairece drew his attention with an ad in the London paper and became a liability. The sad irony is, she would not have recognized him.”

Philippe peered at Anthony. “You understand, I care little for the legal system if family is involved. We will find them, and I will finish it.”

A feeling of uneasiness settling in the pit of his stomach. “I am a lord of the realm,
Don
Philippe, and sit in the House of Lords and at Parliament. It is my duty to see our laws are upheld. If I disregard all we stand for, if I turn my back on everything many of us have worked and fought to preserve, how could I, in all good conscience, sit and argue reform and change? Make no mistake, I will kill to protect her, or any one of us, but only if there is no other way.”

Philippe crossed his arms. “You are a man of principles, as am I. And I was raised with the conviction we protect our own. When a man accepts a woman into his keeping, it is not only his right to safeguard her, but his duty. We are also charged to see her desires are met. It is not only a man’s obligation, but his pleasure.”

“In part, I agree with you. However, I will not place her wishes above what I know to be best.” The other man’s eyes narrowed. Anthony sensed Philippe’s acceptance of him weighed in the balance.

“In the two years since Roger’s death, Clairece risked her life over and over again in the hope of finding those responsible. That may have been her desire, but it damn well was not in her best interests. Clairece is full of life and fearless in obtaining what she wants. It also makes her reckless. While I find those attributes endearing, I will not lose her because of them. And that,
Don
Philippe, places us at odds with one another.”

Philippe settled back into a chair. “Not precisely,” he reasoned. “Never have I seen her look at a man the way she does you. Her heart is there for anyone to see. It is not my business to know how this came about so quickly. That it has, is enough for me.” He leaned forward. “But, so we are clear, if you hurt her, I will deal with you.”

Anthony leaned in as well. “Do not threaten me. I would never betray her trust and she knows it.”

“Then we have no problem.” Philippe retreated gracefully.

A noise from the bedroom drew Anthony’s attention. Clairece stood at the threshold, a vague look in her eyes. He started to rise but was stopped by Philippe who shook his head.

Without a sound, Clairece crossed the room to crawl onto Anthony’s lap. She laid her head on his shoulder and snuggled into his side.

Anthony slid his arms around her. “What . . .?”

“I have seen this before,” Philippe whispered. “She is asleep and seeking comfort. It happens if she is stressed beyond reason.”

“At age seventeen?”

“
Si
. And yet again when she fell and lost the child.”

Anthony started. “She fell? How?”

“The man who got her with child returned. He noticed her condition and thought to threaten her with taking the infant if she did not pay him.”

A string of profanities fell from Anthony’s lips as Philippe continued. “Clairece was too young and frightened to come to us. She gave him money and, of course, he demanded more. She was walking one night and got too close to the stairs. We thought we would lose her as well as the babe, but she is a strong
niña
.”

Anthony rocked her gently, kissing her cheek and forehead. “I swear if I ever confront the bastard, I will destroy him.”

Philippe nodded, a satisfied expression on his face. “You see, Lord Anthony, we are not so different after all.”