Jenna Petersen - [Lady Spies] (11 page)

“Thank you again for coming to have me fit on such short notice,” Ana said as she rang for footmen to come and fetch the woman’s things.

The dressmaker smiled. “I will return the day after tomorrow with a new gown for your meeting with Mr. Tyler’s family. And by next week, I shall bring you your new wardrobe in its entirety.”

Ana came to a stop, her hand frozen at the bell pull. “A new wardrobe? No, that cannot be correct. I only need one gown.”

Miss Mullany gave her a quick, subtle glance from head to toe that brought a blush to Ana’s cheeks. Clearly, the woman was making note of the severe black of her mourning gown. Lucas was correct when
he said her clothing drew attention to her and threw doubt on their courtship.

“I assure you, my dear, Mr. Tyler was very clear on the point. I have been paid to provide you with a season’s worth of new gowns as soon as I am possibly able.”

Ana shook her head. “That—that will cost a fortune!”

The
modiste
laughed. “For a man as in love as Mr. Tyler seems to be, it is of little matter.”

The breath left Ana’s lungs as she stared. Lucas, in love with her? Her mouth was suddenly dry and her head spun. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. And now she had to react for her case. Pretend her world wasn’t spinning, tilting off its axis.

“Mr. Tyler is very kind, indeed.”

“Very kind,” the other woman agreed. “I will send a messenger to arrange a time for your final fitting tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good day, Miss Mullany,” Ana choked as the lady moved past her and followed a stream of footmen into the hall.

The second the door closed, Meredith was on her feet.

“I saw that,” she said, casting a glance at Emily. “I saw your face when she commented about Lucas being in love with you. Are your emotions becoming involved in this case?”

Ana stared at her friends. Both of them were focused entirely on her, and this time she knew walking away wouldn’t be an escape. They were no longer teasing her about a few stolen kisses. They were truly concerned.

And about something she didn’t want to think about.

“Of course not,” she lied. “That would be foolish, wouldn’t it? I already told you why I am still dedicated to Gilbert. You know I would never allow myself to feel something for another man.”

Emily slowly forced herself to sit up, her eyes flickering with pain and worry in equal measure. “Ana, you’re still very young.”

“So was Gilbert,” Ana snapped, tired of the argument about her age. “Too young to die. Should I forget he lived? That I loved him?”

Her friend winced, and Ana wasn’t sure if it was because of physical pain from her injury or a reaction the raw emotion coursing through the room. “I don’t agree with you that feeling something for another man equates forgetting your husband. But Tyler? That could be so dangerous.”

Ana turned away without answering.

Emily continued, “He could be manipulating you, Ana.”

She flinched as her thoughts turned to their interaction just a few short hours ago. She’d recognized he might only be saying he believed in her in order to stroke her ego, to make her carry out his wishes. But
she had still allowed herself to slip under the spell of his gentle reassurance.

“If he is showing you tenderness, it isn’t because—”

She spun on her friends. “A man like him could never want a woman like me, is that it?”

Emily shook her head. “No, I—”

“I’m a mouse, and he is strong and filled with adventure. He would want a woman like
you
instead. And if I let myself think otherwise, I might end up brokenhearted.” She shook her head. “Don’t you think I remember what it was like to be a wallflower before Gilbert realized he could care for me? I know I’m dull with my little spectacles and my inventions. I know I get ink on my fingers and sometimes forget what to say when I’m in a crowd of people. How foolish do you believe I am?”

She blinked as the words fell from her lips. Her husband had always forgiven her for those things. Assured her that he cared for her despite all that.

But Lucas…Lucas never seemed to notice those failings at all.

Emily stared at her, gape-mouthed. Meredith stepped forward. “Emily doesn’t mean that at all, Ana. If Lucas wants you, I have no doubt that is real. But your reaction proves that you are involved already. It could be very dangerous for you. It could even get you killed if you end up more focused on Lucas than your case.”

Ana clenched her fists. “Like you were with Tristan.”

“That was different!” Meredith protested.

“Yes, it was.” Ana nodded. “I am
not
falling in love with Lucas like you did with your husband. And I cannot listen to these wild accusations any longer.”

She turned her back and walked away.

Emily and Meredith exchanged a glance of worry as the door shut behind her.

L
ucas shifted his weight from one leg to another, leaning on the banister in a way he hoped would appear nonchalant when he felt anything but. Anxiety curled in his stomach, made his muscles twitch. And all for one woman. One infuriating, intriguing, dream-haunting woman.

Anastasia Whittig. The carriage he had sent for her earlier in the evening would be arriving at his mother’s home in a matter of moments.

Why was he so nervous? He was
never
nervous. Granted, his family could be a lot to handle, especially when they were together in a loud, boisterous group. But he didn’t doubt Ana would come through their
interrogation with flying colors, so long as she remembered her purpose in being there.

No, the reason his stomach was in knots had more to do with seeing
her
again. Something about Ana called to him, awakened his blood. There wasn’t any use denying it. That would be akin to denying the sun rose and set every day. His desire for her was just a fact of life now. And he had to decide what to do about it. Sooner rather than later.

There was a knock at the door, and he straightened up as his mother’s butler opened it. Lucas sucked in a breath as a woman he hardly recognized entered the foyer.

Was this Ana?
His
Ana of the lopsided hair and the smudged cheeks and the spectacles? There were hints of her in the person who stood before him, like the nervous smile she cast in his direction as she handed over her wrap to the servant, but this woman was more goddess than bluestocking.

He owed Miss Mullany an enormous bonus when he delivered his final payment, because the gown Ana wore was like something out of a fantasy. It was a deep, dark rose color that made her chestnut hair and brown eyes look richer and brighter. It had been fitted perfectly to accentuate the figure she normally hid behind staid mourning gowns. The neckline swooped to reveal the top swell of her breasts, then cascaded over her body in a smooth, flowing line.

Lucas moved toward her, hands itching with a desire
to touch her. Not just touch her, but kiss her, hold her, make her groan with need and gasp with pleasure. The only thing that kept him from doing just that was the fact that he was in his mother’s foyer with an entire family waiting expectantly for him to return with his “intended” in tow.

He reached for her hands and lifted one to his lips. A little tremble was his reward and her brown eyes sought his.

“You are beautiful, Ana,” he whispered.

She smiled and he forgot to breathe again. It was only then he realized how infrequent that smile was. Oh, she let her lips tilt up from time to time, but that wasn’t like this. This warm, open, utterly enchanting expression that doubled his desire to kiss her until neither of them could think straight.

She looked down at her gown. “This is too much, Lucas. One gown is bad enough, but I’ve been told you ordered an entire wardrobe!”

He stifled a moan. Dear God, an entire wardrobe. It would be like unwrapping a present every time he saw her. Learning which color brought out the glow of her complexion or the sparkle in her eyes. Yes, he owed the seamstress a bonus.

Ana was still talking. “I must insist that you—”

He held up a hand. “What you wear is important to the case, Ana. A new wardrobe is part of our investigation.”

The smile that had so enchanted him fell away,
replaced by a flash of hurt and a tinge of embarrassment. Her chin dipped.

“Oh. Of course. I didn’t mean to imply that you bought me these things out of any pleasure to yourself.”

He slipped a finger beneath her chin. “Actually, it gives me uncommon pleasure to see you in color. Probably more than it should.”

Her eyes widened and then her smile returned, along with a pretty pink blush that matched her rosy gown. He offered her an arm. As she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, he said, “Come, my family awaits us in the parlor.”

He felt her stiffen, tremble at that statement. Reaching up, he covered her hand with his own and was warmed by the brush of her bare arm against his fingertips.

“You will do perfectly fine, Ana. They have no intention of eating you alive.”

She gave a brief nod. “I have no choice but to do perfectly fine. For Emily.” She let her gaze slip up. “For you.”

Lucas didn’t wait for the shock of that statement to sink in. He opened the parlor door and led her inside.

The buzz of conversation in the room ceased the moment they entered. Heads swiveled and his entire family stared, along with Henry Bowerly, whom his mother had invited. Lucas girded his loins for the explosion of energy about to come.

“Lady Anastasia Whittig.” He squeezed her arm for comfort as he led her forward to where his mother waited on the settee, staring at Ana with a soft expression. “May I present my mother, Lady Dannington.”

His mother got to her feet in one smooth, elegant motion and reached out both hands to Ana. She slipped her hand from the crook of his arm and took his mother’s offering.

“My dear, my dear,” his mother whispered as she enveloped Ana into a brief, fierce hug. “Welcome to our family.”

Lucas winced. The complication his family introduced had been keeping him up at night the past two days. Of course they would instantly accept Anastasia. He knew them well enough to realize they would be deliriously happy he had finally chosen a future bride. And yet, at the end of the investigation, the false engagement they had perpetrated would be over. His family would be hurt. They wouldn’t understand.

It was a sacrifice he loathed to make, even for King and Country.

With a smile of approval for him, his mother immediately drew Ana away and began to introduce her to the rest of the clan. He watched as Ana shook hands with his older brothers, Peter, who had inherited the title of Earl when their father passed and Martin and their wives. His two older sisters, Elizabeth and Charlotte, and their husbands were next. Then she hesitated before Henry.

His friend looked Ana up and down and his eyes went wide. Lucas knew why. Who wouldn’t be shocked by her new appearance after seeing her in widow’s weeds? Henry shot a glance at him before he smiled at Lucas’s mother.

“Ah, but my lady, I have had the pleasure of meeting Lady Whittig before.”

His mother shot a playful glare in his direction. “Of course you have Lord Cliffield, Lucas
would
introduce his future bride to his friends before he recalled his family might like to know her, as well.” She patted Henry’s arm. “But you are like family, so I forgive his transgression.”

His eldest brother Peter laughed as he put an arm around his own wife, Eleanor. “Just this once.”

Lucas watched Ana as she laughed with the group and quickly fell into a comfortable rapport with the entire family. It was as if she
belonged
there, sitting amongst his sisters, laughing at his brothers’ awful jokes, and exchanging knowing smiles with his mother. Any fears she had expressed about being able to perform the act of his fiancée were unfounded. She performed the part with little trouble.

In fact, as he watched her, he sometimes forgot it was pretend at all. It was too easy to picture her like this forever. A part of his life, a part of his home and family.

He shook off that thought as a footman appeared
to announce that dinner was served. The family began to gather itself into order. His mother walked beside Henry into the dining room and his brothers and sisters followed behind. He trailed his way across the room to where Ana awaited him. He held out an arm wordlessly, and she smiled that real smile she had gifted him with earlier. And as it had earlier, the expression captivated him as he led her into the dining room.

Ana pressed a hand against her aching belly as she tried to catch her breath. It was impossible when laughter kept bubbling up from deep within her and spilling out. Tears of mirth burned her eyes, and her cheeks ached from smiling all evening long at the stories and jokes Lucas’s family had shared.

“I swear to you,” Lady Dannington said, gulping back her own gasps of laughter. “He took ten years off my life disappearing like that.”

Lucas’s oldest brother, Peter nodded. “But he was always roaming off, causing some kind of trouble. Eventually we stopped looking. He came home when he was ready.”

She met Lucas’s stare and was surprised to find he wasn’t really involving himself in the story. Instead, his elbow was propped up on the table’s edge, his chin resting in his hand, and he was watching her, a small smile tilting his lips.

Her laughter stopped abruptly at the sight of him. This was all an act. It seemed real, but she had to keep reminding herself it wasn’t. It simply wasn’t.

She forced herself to keep a benign, unaffected face. “I am learning all kinds of new things about you, Lucas.”

His smile broadened and those distracting dimples appeared. “You see why I wanted to keep her away from you all.”

His family laughed.

“When you ran away,” she asked. “Wherever did you go?”

A flash of emotion crossed his face, intense and fierce. She straightened up in surprise to see it. Normally he was so controlled. But, of course, it was gone as swiftly as it had appeared. She had seen it, though, and it made her realize that he, too, had secrets. Buried deep, but there.

Why did she suddenly wish she could ferret them out?

“I couldn’t begin to tell you,” he said with a shrug. “Don’t even recall.”

Her brow furrowed. That was a lie. He remembered where he went. Clearly the times he spent alone as a child were important to him. And despite how utterly inappropriate and stupid it was, she wanted to know more.

“I remember!” Henry chimed in with a grin. “There
were plenty of times he came to my parents’ estate to hatch all kinds of little plots against his sisters.”

There was a cry of mock outrage and laughter amongst the siblings, and the table dissolved into more stories about Lucas’s frequent pranks against the lot of them. Whatever deeper emotions she had briefly seen were now gone as he argued his case against their laughing accusations.

Anastasia watched them interact. As entertaining and amusing as the family was, as much as they ribbed each other, what was clear was their love for each other. Their close bond. Lucas’s brothers were protective. His sisters adored him. Even Henry, of whom she was unsure, obviously loved Lucas and his family. And from the light in his eyes, those feelings were returned by Lucas completely. He wasn’t anything like the stubborn, demanding man who pushed past her boundaries, both physically and emotionally.

Seeing him so at ease with his family made her…jealous. That was utterly ridiculous, but there it was. Her parents had died just as she entered adulthood. Her siblings were much, much older than she. They had never been close to her, and they rarely came together now that they each had their own busy lives. She had always been an afterthought to them. Even when her husband died, none of them had offered her deeper comfort than what she would expect from a mere acquaintance.

Being here with this boisterous, affectionate family only made her all the more aware of her own lack of the same.

It also made her wish, for a blinding, terrifying moment, that the ruse of the engagement with Lucas was real. Then she
would
belong to this family. Then all the love they showed each other would also come to her.

And so would Lucas. Permanently.

She flinched at that thought as it skipped traitorously through her mind.

“Why don’t we retire to the parlor?” Lady Dannington said as she got to her feet. “I would love to hear more about Lady Whittig now that we have regaled her with our family stories.”

Ana started, pleased to be drawn away from the dangerous trails her thoughts were taking. She gave Lucas a quick glance and was relieved he wasn’t staring at her. What was it this man did to her that made her long for things she could never, would never have? Made her forget herself?

This case needed to be solved. And not just because of the increasing danger to the spies. Not just for revenge against whoever attacked Emily or struck down Henry. Now her very sanity was in danger. The sooner they caught the culprit, the sooner she could return to her inventions and research and forget Lucas.

“My lady.”

She jumped as she turned to find Henry had wheeled his chair beside her. He was staring up at her with an unreadable expression.

“I’m sorry, I was woolgathering.”

His smile was thin. “I believe Lucas’s mother intends to take him aside for a moment to discuss some family business before they retire to the parlor. Perhaps I may have the pleasure of escorting you instead?”

Lucas looked up from the conversation he was having with his mother. “Yes, would you mind going with Henry? We’ll join you in a few moments.”

“Of course.” Ana forced her thoughts back to the case. Just as Emily had predicted, the chance to question Henry had come, and now she could take it without it seeming forced or obvious.

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” She nodded to Lucas and his mother before she walked away with Henry pushing himself along at her side.

“Lucas tells me you accompanied him to the park to observe Sir George make contact with another spy.”

Ana’s heart leapt as she lifted her gaze. Lucas’s siblings and their spouses were just a few feet in front of them. How could Henry bring up such a sensitive subject? Certainly they did not know Lucas’s true profession.

She cast him a side glance and found he was watching her just as intently. Perhaps this was a test.

“Lord Cliffield, surely you do not wish to broach such subjects in this place.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed, and his fingers tightened to white knuckles as he pushed the chair along. “I think I know when my tone is safe and when it is not, my lady,” he said, then his eyes softened. “Though I do appreciate your desire for discretion. It serves a person of your position well to always be careful. You never know when a slip in propriety will put you in danger.”

Ana did not reply as she watched him. The anger she’d seen at her admonishment was gone now. What had been its cause? Mere frustration over his inability to investigate cases in the field any longer or something else?