To Catch A Fallen Spy (Brethren of the Coast Book 8) (16 page)

to catch a fallen spy

chapter ten

The Richmond’s expansive
ballroom featured sixteenth century Italian embroideries, and a mythological painting, depicting a scene from Homer’s
Odyssey
, in the grand style by James Barry. Amid a sea of silk, expensive gems in every conceivable color, and knee breeches, Elaine and Ross made their first formal appearance as husband and wife. And in their mutual dislike of the spotlight, they found common ground and rapport, however fleeting.

If only they could enjoy such affinity at home.

Unaccustomed to the glare of public interest, she anchored at Ross’s side, but the rakes sought her company at every turn, and she endured their attention and unprincipled propositions in good humor, else she might slap someone silly. But such indecent advances she would welcome from her tepid spouse.

“Do you wish to sit, my dear?” How charming he appeared in mixed company, but it was a lie.

“That would be lovely, as it is a tad warm.” And so gazed as an adoring bride, while he escorted her to a sofa, upon which a familiar tormentor reclined.

“Why, if it is not Lady Elaine and her new groom.” Beryl Hogart gushed. “And to think it was my excellent skills as hostess that brought you together at my musicale, as I seated you beside each other at dinner. Am I not the intrepid matchmaker? I should hire myself out.”

“Oh, indeed.” Elaine fought to maintain her façade. “You are a marvel, Mrs. Hogart.”

“And we are forever grateful.” In a show of unity, Ross kissed the back of Elaine’s gloved knuckles. “Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I shall remove to the card room, with the men.”

Another falsehood.

As she learned in her failed attempts to spend time with him, Ross did not play cards. He did not venture to the theatre or the opera. He did not participate in the Promenade. He did not invite her into his study for an evening brandy, as did Lance with Cara.

In fact, since their wedding, Ross hardly spoke to Elaine, and that hurt. He departed for the Ministry of Defense before she woke, and he often returned late in the evening, after she dined, alone. She understood he struggled with a painful past, and he did not wish to make love to her, but could he not at least take a drink with her?

Far worse was the nightly disappointment, when she prepared for bed and waited in the hopes that he would come to her, but that never happened, and therein rooted her dilemma. She married a man she loved, and yet she had never been lonelier in her life.

At her right, Mrs. Hogart blathered about the nonsensical trivialities of needlepoint, and Elaine offered the occasional nod of agreement, until a welcomed face appeared among the crowd, and she waved.

“Sabrina, it is wonderful to see you.” Peering at Mrs. Hogart, Elaine remarked, “Please, excuse me, as I must speak with the Countess of Woverton.”

“Never have I seen anyone more in need of a rescue.” Brie snorted and dragged Elaine to a small balcony off the main dining room. “It is cool tonight, and the sky is filled with stars.”

“You did not bring me out here to discuss the weather or the heavens.” Then Elaine reached for her lifelong friend. “Oh, Brie, my marriage is a disaster. Nothing has gone as I planned.”

“There, there.” As usual, Sabrina offered comfort and a shoulder. “Marriage is a tricky business, and I know well your pain, as Everett delayed our consummation, too.”

“How do you know?” Elaine jerked upright. “I have told no one.”

“You did not have to, though you really should have confided in the Brethren wives, as we are experts on difficult spouses, and I have known you since you were born.” Brie shrugged. “As I said, I suffered the same curse with my reluctant husband, and I know the longing, which you exhibit in spades, dear sister.” As was her way, she snorted. “My shameless lord waited almost a month to do the deed, although it seemed like years to me. But his brother had just died, and our world was in turmoil. When Everett inherited the title, he feared I might seek an annulment, damn fool man.”

“I knew there were complications, but you never explained, in detail. At least, not while I was present. In retrospect, I never should have left the room before the gossip turned intimate, as I could use that knowledge, now.” Elaine pondered the revelation and sobbed. “So I am not alone?”

“No.” Brie shook her head. “Fret not, however, as I wager Ross will claim your bride’s prize soon enough, and then he will never let you sleep.”

“I pray you are right, but there are difficulties.” And Elaine would admit no more than that, as she would not embarrass Ross by revealing the cruelty he survived. For some strange reason she could not fathom, her brave agent provocateur viewed the injuries inflicted upon him as a stain on his character, to be criticized and even ridiculed. While he did not state it aloud, she suspected he supposed she would reject him.

“Oh, no doubt, as we discuss men.” Sabrina’s candor always brightened Elaine’s spirits. “While I am sure Ross has his reasons, and you need not share them, know that time and patience function as a wonderful remedy.”

“Is that what you did?”

“No.” Sabrina laughed. “I rained hellfire and damnation on his head, leaped from a moving carriage to evade him, and locked him from my chamber. Lucky for me, my determined spouse outwitted me, and I ended up trapped in his suite for two days.”

Given that frank confession, Elaine surrendered to mirth, and it felt so good. “Well, I suppose I should be grateful I have not suffered for a month.”

“See?” Sabrina chucked Elaine’s chin. “No matter how terrible the situation seems, it can always get worse. Now, instead of waiting for Ross to come to you, why do you not go to him?

“Is that permissible?” In a flash, she recalled the organization of the Richmond’s ballroom and a selection of hiding spots in which she might locate her spy.

“Elaine, you are Ross’s wife, by law.” Sabrina clucked her tongue. “In essence, your naughty habits are state-sanctioned.”

“My treasured friend, you sure know how to make a person feel better.” And with that logic, Elaine opted to take a chance on Ross. “I believe I shall seek out my man.”

#

Some snakes never shed their skin, and Ross lurked in the shadows, watching Waddlington watching Elaine. Ross’s bride boasted a cherubic expression, as she acknowledged notables with an elegant dip of her chin. Gliding amid the crush as some sultry seraph, she summoned him without even realizing it, and he ached to answer her call, but he had to remain vigilant.

For a scarce second, he lost sight of her, and panic threatened to choke him. But then she re-emerged near the quartet, and he thought she glanced in his direction, but that was not possible, as she could not see him in the dark. He had to have imagined it.

Near the side wall, the Brethren congregated, and she paused to share conversation with her odd extended family. Shaking himself, he wrenched to attention. Waddlington studied her every move, sneering when he thought no one aware, and Ross wanted to punch the smug bastard. But when George waltzed with Elaine, Ross admired her, as he always had.

Floating as an angel, she made the rotations, and he looked on with pride. But she did not belong there. She descended from the realm of fantasy to grace the mere mortals with her presence, and she deemed him worthy of her regard. Then he noted she peered at his hiding spot with each turn, and he chuckled to himself. Of course, she knew precisely where he lingered, because they shared a connection that defied the limits of space and time.

A mystical power wove its web, like fine Alençon lace, swaddling him in a veil of comforting warmth whenever she neared, and so he avoided her. Yet, heaven help him, he desired her, and no one was more shocked than Ross, because he believed that part of him died in a filthy torture chamber on the Continent. But until Waddlington made a mistake, and Ross arrested the blackguard, he would not yield to base hunger, as Elaine’s safety hung in the balance.

He had to protect his wife.

The music ended, and he came alert. For him, it seemed as if the entire compliment of partygoers stared at Elaine, but he knew that was not the case. As couples navigated the massive chamber, he sought her fair curls but could not glimpse her. Wrestling anxiety, raw and palpable, he scanned every corner, to no avail, and he considered shouting the alarm.

On the thought, the hair stood on the back of his neck, and he smiled, whirled about, and caught Elaine in his arms.

“My lady wife, how many times must I tell you not to sneak up on me?” The subtle scent of lavender water, her signature scent, wreathed and ensorcelled him, and he teased the gentle crest of her ear with his teeth. “Why do you not favor the celebrants with your charming company?”

“Because the man I wish to partner does not dance, sir. He makes me seek his amity.” She giggled, unbuttoned his coat, and slid her hands beneath the wool to embrace him about the waist. “If you will not partake of the festivities, then I will join you.”

“What if we are discovered?” He checked the vicinity for approaching interlopers.

“It matters not, as we are married.” With her palm at the back of his neck, she exerted gentle pressure, and he surrendered.

As Ross covered her mouth with his, she opened to him, and he took what she offered, without restraint. Unwavering temptation, steely in its persistence, soared and swelled, arresting his defenses, and he faltered. His lady was close—incredibly close, and her heat scorched him as a bolt of lightning, yet she posed an enticing contradiction. Soft but firm, her lips harkened a comparison to ripe strawberries bathed in fresh cream, mesmerizing him with her subtle sweetness, and he devoured her tender flesh.

Relentless hunger, savage and insatiable, exploded in his belly, and again he fought in vain against a stubborn erection. Yet he reveled in the sensation, as he savored desire, long absent in his existence. As happened previously, under her influence he came alive, and he craved more.

In seconds, he drew Elaine behind the relative privacy of a Chinese screen, and as the musicians played a waltz, the tune of which he did not recognize, with his wife he composed a duet of a different sort. Had she resisted, had she displayed the slightest dissent, he would have stopped.

Instead, Elaine hummed in her throat, which vibrated against his tongue, as he suckled the tiny indention at the base of her neck, which all but screamed her appreciation of his efforts. And that emboldened and spurred Ross.

Driven by the tantalizing yearn of seduction, he fumbled in the dark, toyed with the ribbon that secured her bodice, and then tugged the ends. Loosening the fabric, he swept aside her chemise to bare her breasts, and he wished for a small, lit taper that he might gaze upon her in that moment.

Anticipation spiraled, carrying him to new heights, and he hovered within an inch of a pert nipple. The slightest hesitation offered all the provocation he required to take the last step, and he fastened his mouth to her tiny pebble and drew hard on her flesh. Never had he tasted anything so decadent, as Elaine dug her nails into his arms through his coat sleeves.

The compulsion to encourage her response rose, rushing forth as the incoming tide, a stimulus growing with each beat of his heart, a burgeoning need to twine her legs about his hips, push her against the wall, plunge his turgid length in the honey harbor between her thighs, and take her, right there in the ballroom.

The dinner bell sounded.

Ross broke free from the reverie, stretched upright, and choked on the bitter pill of remorse. “I am sorry, Elaine.”

“Please, do not apologize.” In the dim light of their refuge, the disappointment in her voice rang clear.

“We should join your family, else they may search for us and worry.” He raked his fingers through his hair and smoothed his lapels.

“Give me a minute to fix my gown.” She shifted and gave him her back. “All right. I am ready.”

Offering his escort, Ross led her into the throng, as they filed into the dining room. Surreptitiously, he surveyed the crowd for Waddlington but could not spot the villain. In his momentary lapse of control, the bastard evaded Ross, and he vowed his wife would not distract him again.