To Catch A Fallen Spy (Brethren of the Coast Book 8) (9 page)

“Oh, Elaine, you look magnificent.” With a smile, Cara wiped a stray tear from her eye. “Your parents would be so proud.”

“Thank you.” Despite Cara’s praise, Elaine needed Lance’s approval, and she glanced at her cousin. “Well, what do you think?”

“You are beautiful, my dear.” Lance bent and kissed her forehead, but something in his countenance gave her pause.

“Lance, is something wrong?” The only thing that could spoil the moment would be another argument with her cousin. Then a possible justification for his expression of sadness dawned on her. “You are not still worried about my affiliation with Sir Ross.”

“No matter how old you get, I will always worry.” He favored her with a grin, as he chucked her chin. “It is just that I cannot believe how fast you have grown into a lovely young lady, and I am so proud of you.”

“Stop.” Elaine sniffed. “Else you will make me cry.”

“No dawdling, both of you.” Cara donned her cloak and snapped her fingers. “Sir Ross awaits our charge, so we must not be late.”

And so Elaine departed Raynesford House in the family carriage for the short ride to the Netherton’s regal home. All but bouncing in the squabs, Elaine peered at Lance and slapped her thighs. “Daresay this is the most wonderful night of my life, and I am so grateful I can share it with you.”

“As am I, dear cousin.” Lance stared out the window.

“My love, are you unwell?” Furrowing her brow, Cara rested her palm in the crook of his elbow.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart.” But his answering smile did little to inspire confidence, and Elaine fretted for him.

Of course, any semblance of trouble escaped Elaine, when they arrived at their destination. Riding a wave of euphoria, she doffed her outerwear, rushed through the receiving line, and swept into the ballroom, in search for her not-so-hesitant suitor.

Across a crowded hall, she spied her secret agent, resplendent in his black formal garb. When their gazes met, he favored her with the most affecting smile, and her knees buckled. Focusing her energies, she put one foot in front of the other, and he did the same, until they met in the middle, and Elaine feared her heart might burst with unrivaled elation.

For a few minutes, Ross simply scrutinized her, and he blushed, which won her then and there. Silent, he offered his escort, which she accepted without prompt. Then he cleared his throat. “Good evening, Lady Elaine. May I compliment you on your sense of fashion, as you are a vision?”

“Thank you, Sir Ross.” A murmur coursed the throng, as society noted the new pairing, and she squeezed his arm. “And I do so treasure the flowers. You were thoughtful to send the roses.”

“I am glad you are pleased.” His was not the warm reception she anticipated.

“To express my gratitude, I saved the opening dance, the first waltz, and the allemande for you.” Despite his reticence, which she attributed to a wicked case of nerves, given her mutual anxiety, she persevered. “And if you wish to partner me at dinner, I should be indebted to you.”

“A gracious invitation I would never decline.” Something in his demeanor struck her as odd, given he neglected to look at her, as they navigated the sea of revelers.

Beneath the unfamiliar and much disdained spotlight, she forced an appearance of serenity, but inside she grew agitated. It was a terrifying prospect, to enter the center stage for the amusement of the
ton
. While she dreaded the game, such vulgar spectacles manifested the associative price she had to pay as a member of so-called polite society.

A string quartet occupied a landing of the cavernous chamber, and they struck the first notes of Boccherini’s
Minuet
. The elegant dance in triple meter, comprised of a series of
pas menus
, gave her a chance to gauge Ross’s mood. To Elaine’s chagrin, her partner seemed interested in everyone but her.

“How did you know roses are my favorite?” she inquired.

“Hmm—what?” He came alert. “I beg your pardon?”

“Who told you of my partiality for roses?” In light of his magnanimous gesture, she vowed not to lose her temper, but his behavior confused her. Whatever she expected, his indifference conflicted with her suppositions, and she did not appreciate it.

“My dear Lady Elaine, I did what any self-respecting, highly trained agent of the Corps would do.” In that moment, he grinned, and she forgot what troubled her. “I asked your cousin.”

“And Lance encouraged you in your pursuit?” In a furtive move, she pinched herself again, just to ensure she was awake and fully
compos mentis
.

“Indeed.” Ross nodded, and her heart sang with unabashed joy. “In fact, it was his idea to welcome me into your family.”

“Really?” A wave of emotion blanketed Elaine, as fate granted her most coveted wish. Just then, the music stopped, and she clutched Ross’s hand. “Can we take a walk in the garden, as I desperately want to be alone with you?”

“No.” To her frustration, he situated her at his side and led her to the back wall, where the Brethren gathered. “You should join the ladies, and talk about whatever you talk about.”

“Why not?” A quick scan of the vicinity yielded a few prospective meeting spots perfect for a hasty tryst. “Please, I want to celebrate our new arrangement with a kiss.”

“That is out of the question, because everyone watches us.” The refusal struck her as odd, given he never objected in the past, when they were not courting. “Go, and I shall collect you once the dinner bell rings.”

Rebuffed, she entered the circle of her most trusted allies and bumped Rebecca. “I am confused, sister.”

“In light of recent revelations, I am shocked by your confusion.” The former spy arched a brow. “So how goes it with Sir Ross?”

“Oh, do tell, Elaine.” Sabrina clucked her tongue. “Is it everything you envisioned, or does the secret agent surpass the realm of fantasy?”

“Well, I am not sure.” In silence, she mulled his rejection, which still stung. “Does romance addle a man’s brain? Does it make him behave in ways that confound and defy explanation?”

“That is putting it mildly.” Cara rolled her eyes. “But, in all fairness, since my marriage to Lance, I am convinced the male sex operates in a state of utter befuddlement, when it comes to their heart.”

“And it is no small wonder they have come this far.” With a shrug, Caroline shook her head. “The longer I have shared my life with Trevor, the more I am persuaded to infer that humanity owes the sum of its existence to women.”

“I concur.” Alex glanced over her shoulder. “Men know four modes of survival: eat, sleep, fight, and make love.”

“With food and sex taking priority,” asserted Daphne. “And even then, Dalton can go an entire day without the former but never the latter.”

“Agreed.” Lenore snickered. “The Brethren are of singular intent.”

“Perhaps, that is why we love them.” Rebecca compressed her lips, and the refined collective burst into laughter.

“All right.” Elaine pressed her palm to her belly. “If I might broach a personal query, Caroline and Alex excepted, as we know of their individual difficulties preceding their nuptials, how much is too much, in regard to physical relations prior to the wedding?” She gazed at the remaining wives. “How much did you indulge your swains during courtship?” Then Elaine drew up short. “Or have I overstepped the limits of familial confidence?”

“Nonsense.” Rebecca snorted. “Women have engaged in such topics since creation, I suspect. But no one knows what goes on behind closed doors, and we never betray each other’s secrets.” She peered from side to side and inched near. “Dirk and I consummated our relationship before we spoke the vows, and if I had it to do over again, I would change nothing.”

“Blake insisted we wait.” Lenore cast a half-smile. “But he made up for lost time as soon as the vicar pronounced us husband and wife.”

“The same can be said of Everett.” Sabrina caught her husband’s attention and winked. “Out of some misplaced sense of honor, he delayed the singular event, and it was the most frustrating experience of my life.” In a flash, she held a finger to her lips. “Shh.”

“You beckoned, my saucy Sabrina?” Everett bent and whispered in her ear, and Sabrina giggled. “My dear ladies, if you will excuse us.”

“Where are they going?” Daphne stretched on tiptoes. “The dance floor is in the other direction.”

“I fancy they seek the privacy of the Netherton’s library.” And Sabrina’s boldness gave Elaine an idea. Standing amid the Brethren, Ross conversed with Lance. Focusing all her energy, Elaine stared at him, until he met her, measure for measure. “Sisters, I believe I will borrow a page from Brie’s book. Wish me luck.”

Snaring her quarry’s attention, Elaine smiled, turned, and darted to the terrace doors.

#

What in bloody hell was Elaine about? Cursing under his breath, Ross searched for Agent Barrett, to no avail. Seething, he made his excuses and followed in her wake. At the large French doors, left open to admit the cool night air into the stuffy ballroom, he glanced over his shoulder and stepped to the flagged surface.

Ahead, at a turn on the graveled path, Elaine waved and dashed to the left. In a flash, he sprinted after her. Tempted by her flirty giggle, he trailed her to a small clearing. Bathed in silvery blue moonlight, his lady hiked her skirts in a scandalous display of her calves and ran to a tiny gazebo. Of course, he gave chase.

“I ought to spank you.” Yet, he would never strike her.

“If it will appease your male pride, I am amenable to the proposition.” Ah, she was bold, and he liked it. “Step into my lair of delicious iniquity, Sir Ross.” In the dark, she sighed, as he ascended the three steps and joined her. “Alone, at last, my reticent swain.”

“Elaine, we must return to—” And then she pounced.

Soft and feminine as she pressed herself against him, she covered his mouth with hers, and he forgot what he intended to protest. Soothing warmth pervaded his flesh and ignited a slow burning fire in his veins. In her unschooled but nonetheless formidable embrace, the chill that imprisoned him for the better part of a decade melted, leaving naught but desire to drive him, and he answered the call.

When Ross seized the reins and steered her in a heated assignation, he came alive. With the subtle scent of lavender, and the taste of some sweet wine on her lips, she summoned, and he responded. It was as if night yielded to daylight, and the sun beat a blazing path straight to a part of his anatomy that had not seen action in ten years. He believed that aspect of him had been destroyed in a dank chamber, amid the violence and chaos of espionage, but it appeared the ingénue possessed some mystical power to revive him.

Incapable of rational thought, he succumbed to her charm, angled his head, mingled his tongue with hers, and intensified their exchange. To his infinite gratitude, she moaned and speared her fingers through his hair, and that was all the encouragement he required.

Waging a losing battle with passion, he backed her to a post, shifted, and set a palm to her breast, and she gasped but did not flinch as he touched her. Yes, he took liberties, but he was hungry, and she was accommodating. And while he knew he needed to end their rendezvous, heaven help him, he could not let go, and he could not stop himself from taking what she offered.

After several tempestuous, groping, intensely silent minutes, they broke for air, and he rested his forehead to hers. “What are you doing?”

“I thought it obvious.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “I am thanking you for the flowers, as you have made me so happy. Did I tell you that?”

“You did.” Ross slipped an arm about her waist and hugged her close. “But tell me again.”

“Oh, Ross, I am so happy.” Lifting her chin, she drew him to her and claimed another oh-so-arresting kiss. “And I promise we will be the most stupendous couple in London.”

In an instant, he came alert and recalled the pact he enacted with Lord Raynesford. Just as Ross feared, Elaine welcomed his suit, and he would wager his healthy bank account that not for a minute did she doubt him. For good or ill, he needed to share the details of the plot, in order to spare her the pain and humiliation of the inevitable estrangement, once he caught the villain pursuing her.

But the irresistible noblewoman distracted him, when she nibbled his chin and worked her way back to a torrid engagement, which he nurtured and fed. And somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, it occurred to him then that he needed her, and he needed no one. For him, with her at his side, a vibrant world filled with promise loomed on the horizon, if only he had the courage to capture it.

As she opened to him, in an unmistakable invitation, he succumbed, once more. Just as before, his body reacted with fierce savagery, such that Ross could not contain himself, and he devoured her succulent lips.

In the distance, voices cut through the ardor as a portentous warning, and he tried but failed to check himself. If partygoers found him in a clinch with Elaine, she would be ruined, and he would have to marry her. But would that be bad? As her husband, he could protect her better than her cousin, because a spouse had legal rights not entailed to a secondary relative. Indeed, he could lock her away and safeguard her, and the law would compel her to obey.

So as the intruders neared, Ross did something he never would have imagined.

He escalated the tryst.

A shrill cry of alarm brought him upright, and he retreated.

“Upon my word.” Miranda Hogart simpered. “It is Lady Elaine Prescott and Sir Ross Logan.”

“Let us return to the ball.” Sir Archibald Kleinfeld ushered Miranda and her mother, Beryl, along the path. “Ladies, I am so sorry you witnessed such disreputable unpleasantness.”

And so it was done, his course was set, and there was no escape.

“No,” Elaine whispered. “Ross, what are we going to do, as the Hogarts are the worst gossips in the
ton
?”

“We should probably locate Lord Raynesford, before the news makes the rounds.” Then he might survive his hastily sketched plan, neck intact.