A Season to Be Sinful (37 page)

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Authors: Jo Goodman

BOOK: A Season to Be Sinful
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Assassins.

The single word brought a stillness to the room that had not been there before. Sherry regarded each of his guests candidly, unwilling to allow himself or them to pretend it was otherwise.

It was Gibb who finally spoke. We came together for protection. Con was supposed to ride out alone. His tooth? That happened the night before he was set to leave. He was attacked in Vauxhall.

Three of them, Con said. Rising to his feet, he went to the drinks tray and poured another whisky. Knocked me about. I chased them off, but I took a bit of a bruising. Ribs and back. Cut my arm. Damn if the tooth isnt the worst of it.

Was it provoked? asked Sherry.

Con shook his head, then immediately regretted it. The tumbler went up to his cheek. He looked to Gibb to take up the story.

A sennight before Con was attacked, I was almost run down in front of my townhouse. I jumped out of the way, but it was a narrow thing. One of my retainers was not so fortunate. Had his foot crushed and might still lose it. There are other incidents. Barnett. Penn. Woodridge. Merriman.

Sherrys dark eyebrows lifted in tandem. Hes one of us, then.

Gibb nodded. So it would appear. Theres always the possibility that someone has spoken out of turn and brought this down on us, but with so much at risk, it seems unlikely.

It is curious that none of the attacks have ended in more than injury. Either he is not very good or there is another purpose. If he is indeed one of us, then it cannot be that he is not good at his work.

Our thoughts also, Con said.

Sherry was struck suddenly by what was perhaps the true reason for their visit. You were told to make certain I was here in the country.

Gibb shrugged. There was some question regarding your sudden departure from the service and what your intentions were.

My intentions are to stay well out of it. Tell me, was the Marshal Ney assignment simply a ruse to explain your visit?

No ruse. As long as we found you here, we were to offer the assignment.

Could I not be directing the assaults on all of you from here? Con said he was fallen upon by three men. If it was not simply random, but rather a single scene in the play as you suggest, then it is being directed by someone, not necessarily carried out by them.

Thats right, Con said, returning to the chaise. He did not drop to a half recline this time but sat at the foot of it and rested one elbow on his knee. But I was only recently in town. If you were in the country, you could not have known I was back.

I see. Sherry kept his features carefully neutral. You mentioned others. Merriman, I think you said. Barnett?

Both of them. Barnett took a spill from his mount in the park. Could have been fatal, I suppose, but he had the good fortune to land on his arse, not his neck. Con looked to Gibb once again to pick up the tale.

Merriman was accosted by footpads, same as Con. Woodridge and Penn were in bed for days with a stomach ailment. We suspect poison.

It seems that while we are not to be eliminated, we are certainly being warned.

We are. You are out of it.

Perhaps not. He gave them a brief account of what happened at Covent Garden, leaving out the fact that his rescuer was a woman and that she was currently in residence at Granville Hall.

In April, you say? Gibb rubbed his pointed chin with the back of his hand. That would make you the very first. You told no one?

Sherry shrugged. It seemed unimportant. I escaped without injury.

What do you make of it? asked Gibb.

Nothing more than you. It is proof we are all vulnerable. Did you truly think that I might be the one committing these acts?

We couldnt dismiss it. You know we couldnt. It is the end if we dont discover who among us is responsible. It is no secret that you have not shared our thinking for some time. Of course it was conceivable that you would decide it was not enough to merely leave, but that the whole of it must be finished.

Except, Sherry said, were that my decision, it would already be done.

Chapter Thirteen
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Lily was sitting at the pianoforte pretending to play a piece when Sherry let himself into the music salon. Her fingers moved lightly along the keys, never depressing one with enough force to strike a single note. She hummed the song that was in her head, and occasionally her lips would part and a clear, sweet note would emerge.

She stopped abruptly, flushing brightly, when Sherry quietly applauded her efforts. Turning in her chair, she chastised him with a look.

Sherry held up his hands as though he might ward off this criticism. I did not think it necessary to announce myself.

You move like a cat. It is unnerving. If you cannot change your ways, you might at least tell Mr. Wolfe to stop having the staff oil the door hinges.

Chuckling, he pulled up a chair beside her. Have you played even a single note?

Oh no. I could not.

Of course you can. He took her hand and placed her fingers in position for a C chord, then pushed down. See? You can. Now, one at a time. Fingers curved and tripping lightly up the scale. He demonstrated what he wanted her to do on keys an octave higher.

Lily followed his movements, her own fingers moving more slowly and deliberately. You were with those gentleman longer than was your wont, I think. Are they gone, or will they be staying?

Gone. He manipulated her fingers again but could tell that her heart was not in it. What is it?

They are from your other life, arent they?

He did not ask her what she meant. He supposed it helped her to think of what he had done as if it were somehow separate from the man he was now. It was not so different than how he thought of it, though the visit from Gibb and Con was an unpleasant reminder that remaining apart from that life required more in the way of determination than distance.

Yes, he said. They are.

Lilys hand slid from Sherrys and fell to her lap. She did not look at him. I do not imagine you can say what they wanted.

No, I cant. But I can tell you that I will not be joining them and that they accepted my answer.

Lowering her eyes, Lily nodded faintly. Good. Im glad of it.

Were you afraid for me, Lily? Touching under her chin with his index finger, he brought her around. Did you think I would give them the little enough that remains of my soul?

Do not make light of it.

I wasnt. It is a perfectly serious question.

Then, yes, she said. I was afraid for you. For myself, also. I dont know what pressure they can bring to bear. They had you once.

Those two? No. They never had me. I was a younger man, in the grip of an ideaof idealswhen I was selected and groomed for this service to the Crown. I believed what I was told, believed in what I was doing, and place no blame on anyone save myself for what I have done since. He lowered his hand. The pianoforte made a soft, discordant sound as Sherry rested his forearm on the keys. I think it is true for each of us in the service that there comes a time when the scales are removed from our eyes. Some do as I did and make the decision to leave. Others stay but are more disposed to cynicism in their views. Then there are those who not only remain but are compelled by a sense of righteousness or apprehension to justify their existence. They are the ones who recruit others to the very small circle. It was such a man who recruited me.

Sherry fell silent. He slowly tapped the F key three times, wholly unaware of what he was doing until Lilys eyes shifted to his hand. He mocked himself with a small smile. Forgive me. I was thinking how remarkably easy it was for them to have me. You are younger even than T was, and I do not believe for a moment they could have you. It is perhaps youthful arrogance that permitted me to see the solution to complex problems in terms of good and evil, black or white His voice trailed off, then added even more softly, dead or alive.

Lily touched his forearm. Does the why of it matter so much now?

Regarding her hand curved gently over his arm, Sherry considered his answer. Yes, I think it does. There is no end to young men such as I was, and therefore there will be no shortage of candidates. It may be true there is but one way to finish the thing.

Frowning, Lily drew his attention back to her face. You are speaking of something else now. I can feel it.

Her perspicacity did not surprise. Yes, he said. I am. It is entirely possible that one of us, or rather one of the number that I recently left, is set on destroying the whole. It would seem your actions in Covent Garden did indeed interfere with an attack against me.

Lily snorted lightly. You still entertained doubts on that score?

No, not the way you think. It is merely a certainty now that the attack was not random.

Those men. They came to tell you that?

It was not the purpose of their visit, but yes, I learned as much from them. And more besides, he thought. It seemed to him that few in their confederacy had not been singled out. Suspicion would naturally fall first on those who were not the target of an attack, but it would be the greatest idiocy if it remained there. Sherry began to see more clearly why they desired him for the particular assignment that was pressing them now. Once cleared of responsibility for the attacks, he was the only one they trusted. The very fact that he had broken off with them was what made his participation so essential and valuable.

You are doing it again, Lily said.

Hmm?

She smiled. So deep in thought that you make yourself alone. I am still here, Sherry, and I am willing to listen. Willing to be part of whatever you will share with me.

I know. But I am well out of it, and any lingering doubts on their part have been put to rest. There is nothing you should, or need, to know. 1 suspect that with one notable exception I will not see any of them again, and I will make every effort to put him from my life as well. It is unfortunate that as it regards him, the outcome is not entirely in my hands.

A family member, then, Lily said flippantly. It cannot be a friend or a retainer because you could always dismiss She stopped. It was not often that she caught Sherry so unaware that he had no time to close his expression. She glimpsed his stricken countenance in the heartbeat of time it required him to slam the shutters on it. Lily knew she should pretend she had not seen it, but her curiosity would not let her remain silent. Never say it is Mr. Caldwell.

Sherry blinked. Who?

Lily almost laughed at the perfectly blank cast of his features. It was not feigned. He was still recovering from the fact that her poor attempt at levity had come so close to the mark. Mr. Caldwell, she repeated. You must recall your sisters husband.

Of course I do, and it is not Nick. Do you think I would permit my own sister to marry such a one as I am?

Taking umbrage on his behalf, Lily pushed her chair away from the pianoforte and stood abruptly. It is remarks of just that sort that put me out of all patience with you. You insult yourself when you say such a thing; moreover, you insult me. It is really not to be borne.

Sherry did not try to stop her from stepping out of his reach. I meant no insult.

She waved that aside. Do you think I dont know that? It is what makes it so perfectly aggravating. To say you would not permit your sister to marry one such as you is tantamount to saying you possess no redeeming qualities. If you cannot have the sense to know your own goodness, then at least you might acknowledge that I have the sense to know it. You have nothing at all to say about whether or not I am with you. It is my choice, and I have chosen you for what you are, not for what you are not. I would have you show me the kindness of respecting that, please.

Sherrys brows lifted a fraction. Do you know there is an element to your reasoning that puts me quite off my balance?

She looked at him pointedly. Truly? Then mayhap you should not be sitting like that.

It was then that Sherry realized he was balancing himself precariously on the back two legs of the Queen Anne chair. He had no doubt that it was the vehemence of Lilys argument that made him rear back. Grinning, he dropped it to all fours. You are kind to warn me. I might have prostrated myself at your feet.

Lily snorted lightly. Fool.

Sherry waved her back to her chair. Come, I will teach you a song, then I will play for you.

Judging his offer to be sincere, and knowing he meant to put a period to her speculation regarding the family member he would attempt to avoid, Lily acquiesced graciously.

He taught her a simple country air on the pianoforte, playing the left hand while she worked on the melody. Hesitation made her ringers clumsy at first, but with each passage that was learned and memorized, Lilys confidence grew. Delighted with the music they made, she laughed as the last notes faded away and turned to Sherry in expectation that he would join her. His look made it clear that he was entertaining a wholly different idea.

You said you would play for me. She placed one hand on his chest as he began to lean toward her. Sherry?

Later. I find myself inspired by music of another kind.

She moaned softly just before his lips covered hers. They were on their feet together and moving toward the chaise. Neither one had suggested it, but the thought was communicated between them just the same.

Sunlight streamed in the window and laid its translucent brilliance across Lilys hair, making it seem as though it were woven through with fine filaments of copper and bronze. Fire in the color made it like molten metal. Sherry dipped his fingers in her hair and cradled her head.

He kissed her. First on the mouth, then just at the corner of it. His thumbs grazed her cheeks. His lips touched her jaw, her chin, then settled in the curve of her neck. He sipped her skin and pushed at the neckline of her dress, widening it enough so that it slipped over one shoulder. He kissed her pale skin and traced the line of her collarbone.

Lily trembled under his light touch. She recognized the depth of his concentration, understood it was very much the same when he played. He was learning her like he would a passage of music, a particularly difficult piece, playing it through first, then again and again. It was more than memorizing the notes that he did; it was learning the nu-anced language it evoked.

And with each successive pass of his fingers, what he was able to draw out was something of himself.

Sitting on the landing of the main staircase late at night, this is what she heard when he played. Shed felt it also, but not quite like this. His music had floated up to her from the salon, had settled like a mist around her, but now he was making it as essential as breathing.

She helped him lower her gown and muslin shift over her breasts. She moved higher on the chaise so the beam of sunlight slanted across her skin. His eyes darkened, then his gaze fell. She stroked her breast, cupped the underside, and arched her spine, offering herself up to him.

He was as greedy as shed hoped he would be. The flush of pleasure was washing over her even before his mouth surrounded her shell pink aureole. The rough edge of his tongue made the nipple bud. Heat pooled between her thighs. Her fingers scrabbled in the fabric of her dress and began to gather it up. He worked the buttons of his flies.

She was frantic for him by the time he was inside her, and she cried out softly, frustrated when his tempo changed.

Chuckling deeply, wickedly, he nibbled at her lips. You did not expect that, did you?

I thought I knew the piece you were playing. That made him smile. He was beautiful when he smiled, she thought, and nearly told him so. It would embarrass him; knowing that kept her quiet. Lily smoothed his brow with her fingertips and flicked back a heavy strand of dark hair that had fallen forward. I could not imagine this, she said quietly. I could not imagine you. No, do not say anything. It is for me to say this time. I love you, Alexander Henry Grantham. What? Did you think I did not remember your name? Alexander. It is an impressive name. It has an impressive pedigree. She laid her palm against his cheek and ran her thumb along the line of his mouth. Still, I like Sherry. I have never tasted it, you know. Sherry. Is it as smooth and sweet as I have always thought? When he kissed her, she murmured agreeably against his lips that it was.

Say it again, he said, seating himself more deeply inside her.

Your kiss is as smooth She stopped because he was shaking his head.

No, he said. Say the other.

Alexander Hen Again she stopped. Hed made another small negative shake. Then Lily understood. I love you, she said. Can you have doubted it? I have loved you since the scoundrels pinched your handkerchief, and you did not mind in the least.

Ahh. If I had but known you were so taken by that, I would have let them make off with the silver.

She was going to warn him that they still might, but he stirred in her again and the words were simply lost to her. In mere moments it was as if they had never spoken. It had only been the brief lull at the end of one movement. Now it was the beginning of another.

She let him take the lead. As he had at the pianoforte, he guided her hand through the motions first, then added his own. Her sex felt swollen and heavy. Ripe. She raised her pelvis and rubbed against him. She could feel her own dampness and knew he felt it too. His nostrils flared; his lips parted. The sense of fullness that he gave her was exquisite, the heat something she was not certain she could bear for long.

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