Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) (16 page)

She laughed softly, still wanting to experience this fulfillment he spoke of. "I am a woman, and I am just learning a man's weak points."

"Oh, you think so, do you?"

"Yes."

"Show me," he challenged.

She raised up on her elbow. "All right." She touched her lips to his mouth and felt it soften against hers. Sensuously her hand drifted down his chest and across his stomach. When she felt his breathing quicken, she laughed and moved away from him.

His breath was warm against her lips when he pulled her back to him. "Now you have started something that I will have to finish. Your first lesson should be: never entice a man, unless you intend to offer him all he wants."

She became serious. "Can I offer you something you want?"

He sucked in his breath. "I don't think you know what effect you are having on me."

"Julian?"

He laced his hand through her hair. "Yes, my sweet?"

"Fulfill me."

With a strangled cry„ he crushed her in his arms. He ached and hungered for her, knowing she would take all he had to give, and leave him devoid of feeling. When he entered her body the second time, she yielded to his every need.

Lavender closed her eyes, allowing the wonderful feelings to guide her thinking. Julian reached for her innermost body, needing to tap her every emotion. She felt a maddening pressure building up deep inside and was unprepared for the shuddering release that left her trembling in Julian's arms.

Lavender felt like a piece of driftwood that had been tossed in the sea, causing powerful ripple after ripple to wash her toward an unknown shore. "What have you done to me? I never knew ... I feel so ... 1 don't know," she said in a shaky voice.

His lips moved across her face as he clasped her to him. Both of them were caught in a dream, and neither wanted it to end. At last she raised her face to him. "After tonight, I will never be the same again, will I?"

He ran his lips across her cheek. "No, but neither will I."

"Julian, I was not truthful with you a while ago. You are the first man I have ever been with."

Laughter shook his body. "I know. I had an advantage on you there, because that is something a woman cannot hide from a man, no matter how hard she may want to."

Her voice sounded puzzled. "I wonder how you would know that."

"Trust me, I do. You also have an advantage over me, did you realize that?"

"No, in what way?"

"You know my name, but I don't know yours."

She stiffened. How could she have forgotten for one moment that she was his prisoner. What was he going to do with her now? She could not allow him to take her to Cornwallis, it would endanger too many other people. She untangled herself from his arms and moved off the bed. She was grateful he did not try to stop her when she pulled on her clothes.

"You have not yet told me your name," he reminded her.

"I cannot tell you my name. You already know I am the Swallow. I would be foolish not to admit that, but 1 will not admit to anything else."

Julian moved off the bed and quickly dressed. Slipping into his boots he asked, "Would it be safe to assume that you are not Madeline Lowell?"

"No, I am not she. That was just one of the many disguises I used."

"You do know I have to turn you over to the authorities, don't you?"

"I knew when I became the Swallow that there was a great possibility I would one day be captured. I am prepared to die—I have been from the beginning."

At that moment, Lavender glanced up to see the door open and Nicodemus slip silently into the room. Julian had not seen him because his back was to the door.

Julian took a step toward her, knowing he had seldom witnessed such courage. He realized in that moment that he could never hand her over to anyone who would punish her. And he could not let her go—he wanted to keep her with him. He was about to tell her that when something came down hard against his skull, and his head exploded in pain. Bright colors danced before him, and he felt himself falling to the floor.

A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the room and Lavender saw Nicodemus bending over Julian. Going down on her knees, she frantically placed her finger on his throat to feel the pulsebeat there.

"Will be he all right, Nicodemus?" she asked in anguish.

"Yes, but he will have the grandfather of all headaches in the morning."

Gently she touched Julian's midnight-black hair. "You had better go without me. I can't leave him like this, Nicodemus—I just cannot."

"You don't have any choice but to come away with me, Lavender. You can't stay here, and you know it. I promise you he'll be all right in the morning. You realize he may have reinforcements waiting below? Anyway, when he regained consciousness, you would again become his prisoner."

She stood up, knowing Nicodemus was right. They had to get away immediately. "I don't know if there are any others waiting below. The man I made contact with may be still here."

"Did you get what you came for?"

"No, there was no list. I must be losing my competence, Nicodemus, because I walked into this trap with my eyes wide open."

He moved across the room to the window and peered out. "1 have the horses tied out back, we can just slip out this window and jump to the ground."

Lavender quickly took a pillow from the bed, and gently slipped it under Julian's head and pulled a quilt over him. Reluctantly she stepped across Julian's body and moved to the window, knowing one of the hardest things she would ever have to do was to leave him while he was unconscious.

Sorrowfully she realized this was the only way it could have ended between them. They were enemies and star-crossed lovers. It was never meant that they should be together.

As Lavender and Nicodemus rode away, rain was still falling heavily. Lavender was glad, because she could cry and Nicodemus would never know.

11

The morning sunlight was streaming through the window as Colonel Grimsley bent over Julian and found him to be unconscious. The colonel snapped his fingers, and two soldiers, who had been waiting in the hallway, entered the room.

"Pick him up and put him on the bed, then leave," the colonel ordered, knowing the duke would not want an audience when he regained consciousness.

After the two men lifted Julian onto the rumpled bed, they withdrew, and closed the door behind them. Grimsley bent over the unconscious duke, placing a wet towel on his forehead. "Your Grace, wake up. What has happened to you?" He shook him vigorously. "Wake up," he urged.

Julian's eyes fluttered open, and a groan escaped his lips. A stabbing pain throbbed through his head when he attempted to sit up. "What happened?" he asked. He saw the look of concern on Grimsley's face. "Why are you here?"

"Don't move, Your Grace. It would appear that you have been clubbed over the head. I knew I shouldn't have left you alone with her last night." Julian gave Colonel Grimsley a confused look, while Grimsley tried to push his head back onto the pillow. "I have sent for a doctor. Let us hope he will be here shortly, Your Grace."

"To hell with that," Julian murmured. As his eyes focused on the room, he wondered if Grimsley had noticed the disarray and had drawn his own conclusion. "Did the Swallow escape?" he managed to ask.

"It would appear so, Your Grace. When you didn't arrive at our meeting place by sunup, I rode back to see what had detained you. I found you lying unconscious on the floor, with a knot on your head as large as a robin's egg. Did the Swallow do this to you?"

Julian clasped his hands on either side of his head, feeling as if the roof had caved in on him. His eyes narrowed with unleashed anger. "Apparently she did, although I do not remember exactly how that was accomplished. She must have had an accomplice to help her."

"Try not to think about it now, Your Grace. You just lie back and rest until the doctor arrives."

Julian pushed Grimsley's helpful hand away. "Don't coddle me," he snapped. "If you don't have anything better to do, you can make inquiries below. Someone must have seen the Swallow, or at least noticed which way she rode away." Julian realized he had been lashing out at Grimsley, when he should be directing his anger at himself. This time he alone was responsible for the Swallow's escape. It would seem he had allowed her to make a fool of him again.

Julian stood up slowly and walked to the window. Every step he took was like a hammer pounding in his head. He had been no better than the Swallow's other victims when it came to resisting her charms. True, she had gone further with him than she had with the others, because she had ended up giving her body to entrap him. How soft and silken had been the web she had woven around him last night, driving him out of his mind, making him forget his dead brother.

He turned back to Colonel Grimsley, who looked befuddled, and in a kinder voice he said, "It was not your fault she got away, Grimsley. You did everything that was expected of you. I am the one who allowed her to escape."

"I don't understand what happened, Your Grace. How could she have routed you?"

Julian's eyes flamed, and he felt an anger so strong it pushed every other emotion from his mind. His reasoning was twisted, his feelings too raw and near the surface to examine closely. Now his need for revenge had taken on a deeper, more prominent urgency. The Swallow had gone beyond making a fool of him, she had drawn on his deepest feelings, only to throw them back in his face.

"I made the same mistake that all the other fools before me made, Grimsley. I underestimated the Swallow. She lulled me into passiveness, and I wrongly began to trust her. I, alone, bear the blame for allowing her to escape—" He lowered his voice, realizing for the first time what his brother must have felt when the Swallow had lured secrets out of him. "—and mine is the dishonor," he whispered.

*                                          *                                          *

Lavender kept moving restlessly about the garden room. Several times she moved to the window and gazed toward the stables, searching for some indication that Julian had returned. It was past noon and there was yet no sign of him. She was half out of her mind with worry. What if Nicodemus had hit him harder than he had intended? What if Julian were still lying injured at the Swan Tavern?

She heard the sound of a rider in the distance and held her breath, forcing herself not to run down the garden path toward the stable to see if it was Julian. Her eyes did not waver as she stood silently waiting for whomever it was to come down the path so she could see who it was. When she heard the sound of boot steps on the brick walkway, and saw Julian come into sight, her heart took wings. He was all right!

"Come away from that window at once, Lavender. Have you no shame?" Lavender had not been aware that her aunt had come up behind her to peer over her shoulder, the usual frown creasing her brow. "A proper lady would never allow a gentleman to discover her gaping at him from a window. If you are in want of something to occupy your time, you can wax the banisters."

"Yes, Aunt Amelia," Lavender replied, hurrying away. She did not want to encounter Julian until she was certain whether he had discovered that she was the Swallow. She lingered in the pantry, with the pretense of searching for the misplaced beeswax, giving Julian time enough to go upstairs to his chambers.

It was late afternoon when word came down from the hospital that Brainard Thruston wanted to see Lavender. Wearily she removed her apron, hooked it on a wooden peg by the kitchen door, and placed her straw bonnet on her head. She had already decided she was going to tell Brainard that she was going to retire as the Swallow. While she walked the few blocks to the hospital, she rehearsed in her mind what she would say to him.

By the time she climbed the steps of the redbrick building, Lavender was ready to present her case to Brainard. But by the time Sarah had met her at the door and led her to one of the small, out-of-the-way offices and then disappeared, Lavender was not so sure she could carry through with her plan.

Gathering up all her determination, she rapped on the door. The knock was answered by a smiling Brainard. "You look wonderful," he said, leading her to a corner chair and seating her. "But then, you always look wonderful."

She wrinkled her nose and laughed. "You know that is an exaggeration. No one but you would make that kind of remark with me dressed as I am."

"Perhaps, but, you see, I know what you look like when your hair is flying free, and when you are wearing lovely gowns that enhance your beauty. I have seen you daze a roomful of men into stunned silence merely by walking through a door."

"I do not particularly like flattery, Brainard, it makes me uncomfortable." She untied the ribbon beneath her chin and removed her bonnet.

"I merely spoke the truth."

Looking up into his soft gray eyes, she knew the time was right to tell him what she had decided. "Brainard, if you have called me here to send me on a mission, 1 think you should know I have made the decision to withdraw from your service. In my current state of mind, I fear I will no longer be able to do an effective job for you."

He seated himself on the edge of the paint-chipped desk and stared at her. "I cannot guess what your state of mind might be, but 1 cannot possibly do without you, Lavender. Although you have gone beyond what was expected, we cannot lose you, because you are far too important to our cause."

Somehow she had expected him to be more understanding. Perhaps he did not understand the danger she had encountered last night. "Did Nicodemus tell you how close I came to being captured at the Swan Tavern?"

"Yes, and that proves my point. If the British have become so bold as to set a trap for you, they must want you pretty badly. That has to mean you are hitting them where it hurts. Lavender, I have to make you see that we have to go on hitting at them until they give up the fight. If I had a hundred like you we would soon make short work of this war."

She drew in a deep sigh. "Lately I have begun to wonder what it would feel like to live as a normal human being. I am weary, Brainard."

His eyes dulled. "Many of us feel the same way you do, but we don't have the luxury of giving up. Your success against the British has given my department great recognition by Congress. You can't quit now."

She had often noticed that when Brainard became agitated about something, his left eye twitched, as it was doing now. She glanced down at his hands and found them balled into fists. "I have outlived my usefulness, Brainard. To go on now would be to court folly." She shook her head. "I admit to being frightened."

He studied the tip of his brown boot. "I can never tell you how much you have contributed to our cause. Most probably your brave exploits will go unrecognized, and no one will ever know what you have done for your country. But can you walk away from your obligations?"

Lavender thought she must be mistaken. Did his voice have a threatening tone to it? "What I did was neither for recognition nor because I felt obligated. It was done for love of my father and my country, and nothing more."

"That is what I told Thomas Jefferson when I saw him three weeks ago. He could not risk putting pen to paper, but he asked me to convey his fondest appreciation and admiration to you on behalf of a grateful government." Brainard's eyes glowed with an inner light. "And he asked me to tell you that America needed more patriots like you."

Lavender was silent for a long moment. "I am grateful for Governor Jefferson's recognition, but that cannot be the reason you sent for me today." She studied Brainard's face. "What do you want of me?"

He walked behind the desk and sat down. Before he answered her, he picked up the quill pen and rolled it between his fingers. "I want to know everything you can tell me about this Julian West. I had someone check on him as you asked. No one my man asked in Georgia had ever heard of him."

She hesitated to answer, wishing she did not have to talk about Julian, because her feelings concerning him were still too raw and near the surface. But Lavender knew she had to tell Brainard Julian's true identity. "You are aware that he is a lodger at my aunt's house, are you not?"

"Yes, and 1 find it more than coincidental that the man who set a trap to catch you is also living under the same roof."

"Yes, 1 agree with you, but I hasten to add that he is still not aware that I am the Swallow."

Brainard laughed without humor. "I would love to see his face if he ever found out the woman he sought so diligently was right under his nose the whole time. It should be a great satisfaction to you, knowing you made a fool of him."

The thought that she had made a fool out of Julian brought no satisfaction to her, and she was surprised that Brainard found it amusing. She was beginning to believe that she did not really know Brainard at all. "It is my hope that if the Swallow disappears from sight, he will soon become discouraged and return to England."

"I doubt that will be the case. But you need have no concern, Lavender. You will find that we in the clandestine service of the government are very loyal to one another." His eyes became glazed and he pounded his fists on the desk. "I will make it my business to take this man into custody. He will rue the day he set out to bring you down."

She stood up, feeling uneasy. The last thing she wanted was to have Brainard arrest Julian. "I am sure that will not be necessary. As I said, it is my belief he will become discouraged  and return to  England. Besides, Brainard, you have no authority to take such a step."

Brainard looked at her with a strange expression on his face, and his voice was hard when he spoke. "Sit down, Lavender. I want you to tell me what you know about Julian West. I asked Nicodemus, but he would say nothing. Surely you do not want this man to go unpunished?"

Divided loyalties warred within her mind. While it was true that Julian was the enemy, and he had set a trap for her, she did not want to betray him.

Brainard seemed to sense her dilemma and he spoke. "You must realize if Nicodemus had not come to your rescue last night, you would now be in the hands of the British, and you know what they do to spies."

"Yes, I know. Spies are executed by the British Army, the same as they are by ours."

"It is your duty to tell me whatever you can about the man." His voice was cold, his eyes hard.

She nodded in agreement. If she was going to be loyal to her country, it meant putting personal feelings aside. Brainard was right about one thing; if Nicodemus had not rescued her last night, her bed tonight would have been in a British prison. "His name is not Julian West, but Julian Westfield. He is the Duke of Mannington."

Brainard whistled through his teeth and slowly stood up, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "The devil you say? You must be a very large thorn in the British side if they send a duke all the way from England to capture you. I wonder what his reason could be?"

"From what I gather, I must have used his brother at one time to gain information. Apparently the brother was disgraced and . . . killed himself."

"Well, whatever the reason, we shall benefit from it. We will certainly use this to our best advantage. Can you imagine the bargaining power I could wield if I were to capture an English duke?"