My Lord Rogue (8 page)

“Did what?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious
as Simon’s deep voice sent heated blood thundering through her veins
.
Though she admonished his presence, his ability to take her by surprise, she felt a strange inner excitement
at his nearness
.

“W
ait,” he said.
“
I
paid the man off.
Thought it would be better if
my coachman
took
his place.
You can hardly trust anyone these days.
”

The jab struck her full
force.
“When? How?”
As if it really mattered. The harm had
already
been done. She was alone with Simon
—
again. How would she survive it?
Hadn’t she been through enough
in the past
two days
?

H
is laughter
hinted at
bitterness. “Come. Come.
You cannot expect a man charged with securing the King and Nelson’s safety to find a lone carriage waiting for a passenger outside the theater above suspicion. The right kind of bribery, a few shillings, and your coachman was eager to
explain who had hired him and for what purpose
.
Did you really expect me to believe that you were here to see an opera?”

“Yes, I—”
Her hands began to tremble.
“
I suspect it
didn’t matter what you believed
.”

His presence, leather and spice,
his
broad form, and intoxicating voice
overwhelmed her, assail
ed
her senses in the
close confines of the carriage
.
More frustrating
, h
is
knee
scorched her thigh and his
foot braced against hers a
s
the
coach rounded a street corner.
Her heart fluttered like a bird caught in an iron cage
at the possibility of being taken into the arms of the man she loved
.
And a weightier guilt that she’d never been
as
affected by Lucien assaulted her.

Wheels jostling on cobblestones and an occasional creak of the axle exaggerated the silence lingering
between them.
She’d
humiliated Admiral Nelson’s wife and
his
mistress, publicly
shaming
the admiral in front of the
ton
in order to save his life
,
and now
this.
A
nother
face
-
to
-
face meeting with the man who haunted her dreams
.
It was too much, too soon
.

She swallowed several
tremulous
gasps.

Simon
cleared his throat. “You said you left the baron at home.”

“I did?”
Don’t blather
like a mindless idiot
.
“I did,” she repeated.

“Earl
ier. In the theat
e
r,” he said, impatiently t
apping his cane on the floor
, snapping her to attention
. “Come. Come. The time for lies is over. Where is Lucien?”

T
he time for lies had come to an end
, hadn’t it?
She was alone now.
Everything she’d done to forget Simon had been for naught.
The days and nights she’d spent fleeing Surrey in order to complete Lucien’s mission had
consumed her
with maddening conviction
. But now that Nelson was safe and she was
seated in front of the man she loved, Gillian could barely muster
enough
strength
to
breathe
.

“Lucien
,” she said on half a breath,
“
is dead.”

Simon
perched on the edge of his seat. He took her hands in his. “I
-I
’m sorry. I daresay I
suspected as much when you began to warn the admiral.
That was a very brave thing you just did.
”

“
No braver than Lucien going into France to retrieve that information.
”
Lucien’s determination to beat the sodding Frenchman at his own game
had finally caught up to him
. She placed her hand on her clamoring heart. The fool organ fought for
control
over her body. “
Lucien
died in my arms
—
”

He squeezed her hand
,
the act of his comforting touch brilliantly eroding her defenses
.
“
That man had the will
power
of a saint. Was he followed?
”

“
Yes
,” she said
,
absentmindedly
.
“
But
Lucien’s warning gave me enough time to
escape
his assailants
.”

Simon didn’t speak.
In the resul
ting silence, Gillian tapped the emotional well that threatened to flood
her
.
I cannot
fall to pieces in front of
him
.

“Did he suffer?”

The question
slapped her just as smartly as if Simon had done the act himself.
T
ears
filled
her eyes.
Shot in the
side
,
having lost too much blood,
Lucien had
endured
a
n endless amount
of pain
. It was by
sheer
strength of will that he’d been able to
reach their home to
warn her
.
“
I’ve explained the details of
Lucien’s death
to
Percy
.
If you do
n’
t mind,
I’
m exhausted
and I’ve been through a terrible ordeal.
I’d
rather not recant
my report
again
.”

He squeezed her fingers
,
this time
affectionately. “Where will you go
? What will you do?”

“What any widow does, I suppose
, when the man she relied on is gone
.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I
’
m not schooled on these affairs
,
and thankfully so. What does a widow do?”

Gillian snatched her hands away
, fearing for her mortal soul
.
The absence of
Simon’s touch
left her heartbroken, creating
a longing within her she knew could never be acted
upon
. She
loved him too much to put him through what Nelson, Nelson’s wife, and Lady Hamilton endured. She’d
love him until the day she
died
.

Screams of frustration welled at the back of her throat.
“
W
here are
you
taking me?”

His
silence
left her unhinged.
She shook her head
to clear it,
grabbing her
skewed
veil and repositioning it over her face to keep him from reading her eyes, even if it was almost impossible to do in the darkness
.

“I
should
probably return to Surrey
,” she said, changing the subject.
She could think of nothing else to say. The f
a
rther from London
and Simon
she was, the better.

“It isn’t safe,” he
nearly
shouted.

She shrank back, astounded by the sincerity in Simon’s voice.
Her eyes widened at his
uncharacteristic
outburst.

“What I mean to say is
,” he began again,
low and smooth.
“
Lucien
’s killers know
who you are
. And after that courageous display
you gave
inside
the Theatre Royal
, I have no doubt you are on the enemy’s
target
list. No. Home will be the first place Napoleon’s men
hunt for
you.”

“
Which
is
none of
your concern,” she said brazenly.

“If not mine,
whos
e
?”

“
In fair round belly with good capon lined,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,

Full of wise saws and modern instances
…
”

~
William Shakespeare’s
All The World
’
s a Stage

Who would care
for Gillian
Chauncey
if not him? Her pa
rents were long since dead
;
mother in childbirth, father at the hands of disgruntled money-lenders
.
In some form or another,
Gillian had always been forced to wear a mask
— even with him
.
Now
, in top form,
she refused to allow him in when she needed him most
. That wasn’t shocking in and of itself
. What shocked him was
her frightening return to the
stiff, unyielding
chit he’d met in ninety-five
during a political fiasco of a play
Venice Preserv’d
produced by
Sheridan and Kemble,
his
present
cohort
.

~~~~

Drury Lane,
October 29
^th
,
1795

For the past
eight nights, the theater had
pulsed
with applause for the cast and crew of
Venice Preserv’d
in celebration of the plays rebel villainy. But
during Kem
ble’s and Siddons’ performances
on the ninth night
,
things
went
horribly wrong.

George
the Third
’s carriage
had been attacked by citizens demanding peace
,
bread
, and
,
“Down with George
.
”
Still up in arms,
the lower class
voiced their discontent at the theater, while a
ngry
government supporters
in the audience chanted
,
“
God
s
ave the King
.”

Simon
feared
another riot would take place
,
endangering
the lives of those he was there to protect
—
including the young actress he’d been watching for months
.

“The theat
e
r
i
s no place for a woman
like you
,
”
he
presumptuously
told
Gillian
on
speaking to
her
for the first time
.

“You don’t even know me, my lord.
How would you know where I belong?”

Leaning over a large canvas, her long dark hair cascading down her back,
Gillian
seemed undeterred by the
outcries
beyond
. She reminded him
of
a siren
from one of
Rubens’ paintings
more
than
an actress
preparing to enter the lion’s den
.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked
. Was she aware of
the threat the audience posed
?
Theaters had caught fire
over less
.

“Everyone knows who you are, Lord Danbury. Kemble speaks highly of you.”

“Then you know
the risk is great
.”

“Being in charge of our safety, Lord Danbury, doesn’t entitle you to anything more. I am perfectly
safe in this theater
.”

William Capon, Drury Lane’s set designer, added, “Miss Stillman isn’t
lying
, my lord.
There are greater threats and
harsh
er
conditions
outside Drury’s doors than what resides within them
.”

Gillian’s eyes darkened, making him desire to
know what threats she sought to escape
. “
Billy
,
”
she admonished, as if the man had revealed too much.
“
Our job is to entertain, not
bore
, his lordship
.”

He hadn’t been prepared for
Billy’s admission
.
Or the walls Gillian instantly erected.
What
was
she
hiding from
?
What lurked beneath her
s
park of unbidden fury
?
Blast him, how many men had approached her thusly?
What or whom was she running from
?

The more questions he asked, the more he wanted to know.
He stepped closer. “Duty isn’t a bore.”

“
And f
lattery
is better suited to the dancers
, my lord
.
”

A woman who despised flattery?
Her
admission
gave
him a pleasurable thrill.
Now
that was something
he could work with.

~~~~

November 5
^th
, 1801

“You have no
right to march
back
into
my life and take control of it,” she said, interrupting his introspective musings.
“
I am not a half-wit.”

Simon
frowned
.
He had never meant her to believe he thought she was
.
Gillian
had a knack for business
stratagem, wielding her tongue as a weapon to any unsuspecting buffoon. He admired that skill. Respected it. Measured everything about her against every woman he’d met, including his own wife.

S
tanding on her laurels, s
he’d
refused to
become his mistress. Truth be told, a man of honor didn’t have a mistress
,
so she’d done him a favor by
rebuffing
him.
And yet h
e st
ill felt responsible for
the
woman who’d laid siege to him, body and soul.

With the
back
of her hand, she reached under her veil
and then settled her hand on her lap. Was
his mind playing tricks or had
she
wipe
d
away an errant tear
?
Simon
stared
,
transfixed
.
She
had every right to
rail at him for the danger he’d placed Lucien in
. Lucien
had been a good man
, an even better agent
. He’d also
been
one of Simon’s most
trusted
confidants
. They’d worked together on
various
cases,
particularly
James Hadfield’s assassin
ation
attempt on King George,
and more recently
securing informant
s in France
privy to
Napoleon’s activities
.
Theirs had been a
covert mission
at
an
opportune time when Nelson
had been
charged with
protect
ing
the Channel.
Damn it!
Lucien’s death left him blind.

He hated feeling helpless where she was concerned. And he knew damned well he couldn’t allow
Gillian
to
die because of
her bond to Lucien and
Lucien’s ties to
him
.

R
esigned
to
keep
Gillian
alive no matter what steps he had to take
, Simon broke the silence
. “Surrey is out of the question.”

“
W
ho are you to tell me
where to live
, my
lord
?
I have no legal ties to you.
”

Another sharpened barb.
He grimaced and
ground
his teeth
together.
Where was the coy, submissive
young
woman
who
used to heed
his every word?
This woman
no longer resembled the one
emblazoned in
his heart. No. The well-bred lady
who sat b
efore him
was
a
baroness, a
powerful
enigma
,
secure in her shell
—
destined to undo him
if he didn’t take necessary precautions
.
Except he didn’t want to fight his fondness for her
, he was sick and tired of doing the
right
thing
. Devil take him.

Simon
rolled his shoulders
, trying to ease his nerves
.
Loss
was
an insistent
beast
with claws that refused to disengage
.
Loss was at the heart of every
step he took
in this match of wits and brawn. But if
he played his cards right,
the world would be a safer place to live. Yes.
Gillian
would
see things his way. H
e was a skilled politician.
He’d survived hand to hand combat with
Surcouf,
Frenchmen
,
and Spaniards
alike
. He’d argued with Prinny and lived to tell the tale. He’d bantered with Duncan, Nelson, and Cochrane
as if
he was
their
equals
.

Loyalty, honor, duty, these were personality traits he looked for in
covert
trainees.
A man in his position couldn’t
ask for sacrifice if he wasn’t willing to make his own.
Oh, his sacrifices had been great indeed, if Gillian was any indication.

T
he coach made its way
toward
their
destination
—
his newly outfitted townhouse
on Bolton Street in
Mayfair
.
As the carriage jostled along the road
,
passing the Royal Mews and then St. James Square, Simon
tapped his cane
impatiently
on the floorboard
, eager
to get
Gillian to agree to terms
. But h
ow
did
one
reach a
bright star
?
How did
one
harness its sparkle without dousing it?

Gillian
, the
inaccessible
rose, her
beauty his bane, her
thorn
s
piercing
his
heart
in an ever tightening vise,
sat before him like
frothy ale
to a sailor who’d not seen a tavern in months
.
Was she even aware of
her power? That he loved
her
more than his own life
?
That
he’d
always love
d
her.
T
hat he was motivated by
that
love to see her safe
ly settled
.
F
ew
were the
ways he could reveal
his feelings
.

“Gillian,” he said, unwilling to allow the silence to drag on between them.

“Baroness,” she corrected
, her tone significantly hau
gh
ty
.

He sighed
and gave her a mocking sneer
. “Baroness.” He inclined his head
and flipped his hand outward. “Y
ou’ve made enemies.
I
t is
clear you need
a safe haven
—
protection.”
Light from a street lamp illuminated her
gaze momentarily
. Deep
ebony
eyes
searched his soul
with skillful narrowing speculation
.
“Protectio
n I’m more than willing to give.
”

She scoffed. “You and I both know that inevitability is a falsehood.”

“Perhaps another advantageous marriage—” Bloody hell! What was he thinking?
You are trying to save your own hide and you know it.

“Out of the question,” she snapped
, her voice hissing through the gloom
.

Simon lifted his cane and tapped on the ceiling. The
driver responded to the prompt and the
carriage
rolled to a stop
.

“
Why?” he asked
, determined to
make her see reason
. “
Napoleon’s men
are known for their ruthlessness
.
Why are you so eager to die when you have everything to live for? Lucien was a good man, a great man
,
in fact
, but you are
a beautiful, intelligent woman with
plenty of options
.
”

“Do not try to win me over—”

“I
wouldn’t think of it. I
speak
the truth
.” He shifted in his sea
t
uncomfortably
and cleared his throat. P
ride
would
get the best of him unless he
start
ed
making sense
. “
I mean to say
, your safety takes precedence over whatever has
happened
between us.”
He removed his top hat and raked his hands through his hair
. “We need a woman of your
—
”
He
inclined
his head toward her
modestly covered
décolletage,
a rising
heat
grip
ping
him
at the mere thought of her breasts
and how they would feel in his hands
.
“
—
t
alents.
”

Her frown made him want
to melt into the woodwork. “We?”

Was that the only word she’d heard?
Deuce it all, she’d
grown strong
of heart, determined, harsh as steel
. His heart swelled and he admired
Lucien even more for bring
ing
out
her spunk
, something he’d been unable to do with his own wife
.
Gillian’s
independent
trait
s
also scared him. Without fear of reprisal where would her emotions lead
him
?

Simon swallowed the
heavy
lump
wedged
in his throat.
“You were not just a wife to Lucien, were you?”

Gillian’s brow lifted. “
What
measure
of questioning is this
, Simon
?
You who claim to know everything about me.
”

“It’s important, I assure you.”

“
Then yes.
We were partners in every sense.”

“Every sense?” he asked, his heart
threatening
to burst out of his chest.
There was no gentle way to prod for this kind of intimate information, other than to be forthcoming.

“Every sense but one.”

One?
“Which one? Espionage?”

“No
,” she said, her laughter
devoid of
amusement
.

“
Do y
ou mean to say you
took part in
Lucien
’s maneuvers against
the
French
?”
Ludicrous.

“
Mais ouí
.”

Bloody hell,
she
reverted to French
as if she’d been born to it
.
“
Who
else knows about this?”
Did she have
any other skills she’d failed to mention
? Like those pleasure
-
born
e
?

“I
wouldn’t
be any good at
what I do
if anyone knew,” she said
with a brittle smile
, making him hard
.
He shifted against the squabs
to ease his discomfort
.

“I cannot believe Lucien
allowed
you to
—
” He paused
. His
mind
suddenly
grasped
the reality of what she’d told him
. “No one knows?”

“
That’s not necessarily true
. You
and Percy
do
.” Her voice hinted
that she regretted even that
.