Romancing the Earl (15 page)

She’d kissed two other men—a long-ago experiment with a boy in Monmouth and the treacherous David Iscove—and suddenly she felt as though she’d never been kissed before in her life. Norris’s lips were warm and firm, but so gentle. If he was shocked, he was hiding it well. His hands clasped her waist, their warmth seeping through the layers of her clothing until she felt as though she might combust.

When his thumb grazed the underside of her breast, she opened her mouth in an involuntary gasp without thinking that he’d consider it an invitation. But thank heavens he did. His tongue grazed past her lips and met hers. She opened further, never expecting that this necessary action would become something so delicious.

A man’s cough drew Norris to pull back. “Turn,” he whispered, guiding her to pivot toward the wall.

“What are you doing in here?” the retainer asked.

“What does it look like?” Norris replied coolly. She’d heard him employ that tone before and imagined it must make his soldiers snap to attention. Hearing him use it to keep her safe was surprisingly arousing.

“I beg your pardon,” the retainer said, sounding a bit uncertain. “This is a private area.”

“I had hoped so, but apparently it’s not.” Norris’s tone now carried a tinge of irony and she had to fight to keep from giggling.
What was wrong with her?
This was not a time for laughter.

“I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave.” Yes, he definitely sounded unsure. Cate could picture what Norris must look like, his icy gaze fixed arrogantly on the retainer.

“Would you mind giving us a modicum of privacy? I’d prefer to obscure my companion’s identity. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course. I’ll just turn.”

“Thank you.” Norris took her hand and tugged her from the corner. “Keep your head down,” he murmured.

They moved quickly and didn’t stop once they reached the corridor. He guided her away, retracing the path he’d used earlier. After a minute, she pulled him to a stop. “Where’s Grey?”

“I didn’t see her.” Norris let go of Cate’s hand. She glanced down at her now lonely appendage, sorry to see him go.

“Here.” Grey came from a room across the hall looking pained. “I had to dash off when the guard came back.”

“I thought we had a little more time. Was he early?” Cate asked.

Grey’s expression was grim. “I think so. Did he find you?”

“We improvised,” Norris said.

Cate gave Grey a look that she hoped would be interpreted as “don’t ask.”

“I need to return the key.” Grey held out her hand as Cate withdrew the key and dropped it into her upturned palm. Grey glanced between them. “Is it acceptable for me to leave you alone?”

“We’ve
been
alone,” Norris noted wryly. “We shall go our separate ways.”

Grey nodded before taking herself off toward a set of servant stairs to deliver the key to wherever she’d obtained it. Cate had asked last time how she’d acquired it, but Grey would only say that it was her job to take care of the difficult details.

Norris looked down at her. “Can you find your way back to your room?”

Cate tried not to stare at his mouth, but the imprint of his lips lingered on hers and the heat in her body didn’t dissipate. In fact, the longer she looked at him, the more her desire smoldered. She averted her gaze. “We are
not
going our separate ways—not yet. You still owe me an explanation about what you meant in the library. You said you know what to do. Tell me.”

He glanced up and down the hallway. “Not here.”

She grabbed his hand, heedless of the attraction sparking between them. “My chamber is this way.”

He pulled her to a stop and dropped her hand again, quickly, as if she might burn him. “We can’t go there. Your reputation is already at risk. Where is your sense?” His tone was stern, but there was an underlying heat. She’d never heard him sound like that, as if he wasn’t completely and utterly in control.

“Everyone is in the front hall listening to Septon. He’ll go on for quite some time.”

“You don’t know that
everyone
is there,” he said quietly, but with urgency. “And the servants are not. I may be somewhat new to my role, but I’m aware that servants talk and are often the source of gossip and rumor.”

Cate rolled her eyes. “Just come with me. There’s a sitting room we can use and we’ll leave the door open.”

“On second thought, a private situation is preferable.” He went to the door of the room Grey had vacated and carefully opened it to reveal a small, unlit storage chamber. “This will work.” He beckoned for her to follow.

Once she stepped inside, he closed the door and plunged them into darkness. Only a strip of light from the illuminated corridor broke into the pitch black. She didn’t like that she couldn’t see him. On the other hand, she was intensely aware of his scent, his heat, and his proximity.

As if he’d read her mind, he took a step back.

Cate forced herself to focus on their mission. “Now talk.”

“You’re a bit of an autocrat,” he said softly. “I’ll add that to your list.”

“Add anything you like, just tell me what you meant.” She fairly growled the last, her impatience taking over.

“You needn’t worry about not finding anything because I know where the tapestry is located.”

He did?
“Where?”

“Worcester, near my childhood home.”

“How do you know?” And
how long
had he known?

“Mason hid it there. He told us this afternoon.”

He’d known about it for hours! He’d known about it when they’d met before dinner. He’d known about it as she’d furiously searched the secret library. She reached out to find where he was standing. Her hand connected with his chest. She’d meant to lightly smack him—he more than deserved it—but as soon as she touched him, the manner of her contact changed. She snatched her hand away before she did something foolish, like kiss him again.

“I didn’t wish to tell you until tonight. I was certain you’d want to go after it directly, and it was important to me to visit Septon.”

He was right, drat it all. She
would
have wanted to pursue the tapestry straightaway. “It made sense that you wanted to talk to Septon since you were so close, and Worcester is a day away.”
She
could already be in Worcester. Except they were working as a team and that wouldn’t have been fair. “I wish you would have told me earlier. If we’re to work together, I want to know that I can trust you to be honest.”

“You can. As I said, I planned to tell you this evening. I was never going to keep it from you. Whereas I have to wonder if you would’ve shared this evening’s excursion to Septon’s secret library if I hadn’t followed you.”

He made another valid point, but like him, she’d planned to disclose any information she’d learned—
if
she’d found anything. “I didn’t know if I would discover anything helpful. If I had, I would’ve told you about it.”

“I shall have to take your word for it.”

She couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or if there might be a thread of sarcasm. This inability to see him only made him even harder to read. “I spoke to Septon just before he started his presentation,” she said. “He doesn’t know the men who tried to purchase the tapestry.”

Silence greeted her revelation. She could almost feel his disappointment. “I’m sorry he didn’t know anything to help you. But you still have this footman at Stratton Hall to interrogate.”

“Yes, and I plan to do just that after we retrieve the tapestry,” he said.

They were going to find it! She allowed herself to feel a rush of excitement and impending triumph. Working to contain her jubilation, she asked as casually as possible, “Do you wish to leave tomorrow?”

“Yes, the earlier the better. Will Septon be offended that we aren’t staying for the duration of the party?”

Cate frowned into the darkness. “No, but he’ll question why we’re leaving together.”

“Then we won’t leave together. I will depart at first light, and you will depart later.”

It grated on her that he would leave first, but that was silly. She could trust him. She had no other choice.

“There is an inn in Worcester—the Black Hound—meet me there. I’ll arrange for a room for you and Grey.”

“Thank you,” she said, appreciating his thoughtfulness. They were now most definitely a team. “We’ll see you in Worcester, then.”

She reached for the door as he did the same, and their hands collided. Instead of jerking back, she hesitated, inviting the rush of sensation that took her back to that surprising kiss.

He withdrew his hand. “You go ahead.”

Cate’s heart pounded. He was so close and in the darkness was so . . . anonymous.
Secret
. Who would know if she kissed him again? She pivoted, bringing her body nearly against his just in front of the closed door. “Norris,” she murmured, setting her palm against the front of his coat and sliding it up.

His head bent—she felt the movement and sensed his closeness. “Miss Bowen.”

She stood on her toes, but couldn’t find his mouth. He hadn’t come down far enough.

His hand stole along her waist, sending a shiver up her spine. The latch of the door clicked and light spilled into the room from the corridor behind her. “I’ll see you in Worcester.” He spoke very near her mouth, the whisper of his words gliding over her with promise.

But it was to be unfulfilled.

He stood back and ushered her into the corridor. Then the door snapped shut, and she was alone.

The light from the sconces and the sudden drop in temperature—or was that merely her imagination?—cooled her ardor. She put a hand to her temple and admonished herself for being foolish. This was going to be David Iscove all over again if she wasn’t careful. Steeling herself, she strode away from the room. Norris wasn’t Iscove, and she wasn’t going to lose her head. She was closer to her dream than she’d ever been, and there was no way she was going to let a man, no matter how attractive or alluring, stand in her path.

Elijah leaned back against the door, his pulse thudding through his body, and listened to her walk away.
Blood and bones,
that had been a near thing. He stood there in the dark, willing his erection to stand the hell down so he could leave the bloody room.

What the devil had she been thinking? Kissing him? Nearly kissing him a second time? What sort of woman of her station did that? Granted, he had next to no experience with women of her station, but he had to assume that a young, unmarried miss shouldn’t know how to kiss. Yet Miss Bowen had. She’d claimed his mouth with an expertise that had practically melted his bones. It wasn’t as if he’d gone
that
long without a woman. There’d been a few stops on his journey home, and upon arriving in London, he’d visited an elegant brothel where he’d been serviced quite well. It had reminded him, in a bittersweet fashion, of Lily, his mistress, whom he’d left in Australia. She’d offered to come with him, but he’d declined, knowing that she loved her homeland—she was the daughter of a woman who’d been transported—and preferring to maintain an unfettered life. Indeed, Lily was the only woman he’d ever kept and he couldn’t imagine doing so again. And certainly not Miss Bowen.

Elijah massaged his forehead. Finally judging himself fit, he turned and left the closet. Thankfully Miss Bowen was nowhere to be seen.

He strode purposefully for his chamber, hoping that Wade would be there. He wasn’t disappointed.

“You’re in early, my lord,” Wade said.

“All in all, it’s been a bit of a frustrating evening.” He didn’t plan to tell Wade about the kissing business. “Unfortunately, Septon doesn’t know who these other men who wanted to buy the tapestry are.”

“I’m sorry for that, my lord. But we still have the footman at Stratton Hall.”

Elijah unknotted his cravat. “Indeed we do. And as it happens, Lord Stratton is a distant relation of Miss Bowen’s, so we have an entrée.”

Wade held out his hand to take the cravat from Elijah. “That is an excellent turn of events, my lord. Below stairs, I heard that Lady Stratton is Septon’s lover.”

“Yes, I heard that as well,” Elijah said.

“And her son is here, Lord Kersey. It’s the first time he’s come to Septon House. Apparently Lady Stratton is delighted by his presence. They’ve been estranged for many years.”