To Catch A Fallen Spy (Brethren of the Coast Book 8) (19 page)

“Give over.” Slapping his thighs, Everett guffawed. “I live in the hope that one of our brothers—just one—will learn from our surfeit of past mistakes and avoid the excruciating torment of conflict with his bride, yet I am continually disappointed.”

“Well you could use a little tact.” Trevor pinned Ross with a steely stare. “So tell us what you did.”

“You call that subtle?” Everett frowned.

“My friends, while I appreciate your concern, my marriage is just fine.” Of course, that was a lie, but Ross would not admit it, aloud. “Elaine and I are quite satisfied with the amiable companionship of our union.”

“
Amiable companionship
?” Trevor blinked. “Are you serious?”

Everett whistled in monotone. “Someone is in dire straits, and it is amusing to watch you squirm.”

“Your worry is misplaced,” Ross insisted, as he shuffled in his seat and then stilled.

“Oh, you are definitely in peril.” Shaking his head, Trevor snickered. “Everett is right, in that you cannot avoid a declaration, no matter how hard you try, and Elaine will need that.”

“But how does one know if he is in love?” It was too late when Ross realized he voiced that query. “I mean…that is to say…what if I am not in love?”

Trevor glanced at Everett, and they collapsed in a fit of mirth.

And Ross sighed. After ensuring his wife had nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises from her tumble down some area stairs, he instructed the staff to lock down the house, posted four agents in and around the residence, and sought refuge for reflection.

As he revisited her passionate invasion of his chamber that afternoon, soothing warmth eased his fretful soul, and he took solace in mere thoughts of Elaine. He could taste the sweetness of her honey lips, savor the repetitive rush of her breath to his skin as he thrust, and revel in the achingly soft cries of her release. How he longed to—

“Bloody hell, the mighty have fallen.” And Everett engaged in another round of boisterous hilarity.

Logic and reason, hallmarks of his character, offered no explanation and provided no avenue of escape from the obvious question.

Did Ross love Elaine?

“That you ask is rather telling.” Everett wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “And as I am loathe to lecture you—”

“Since when?” Trevor arched a brow.

“Will you be quiet?” Everett huffed a breath and stretched his booted feet. “In the instance of brevity, I shall simply say that you can fight, you can deny, and you can lie, but you cannot avoid Cupid’s arrow. And the sooner you surrender and accept that singular fact, the better for you and your bride.”

“As Caroline once told me, love it a gift, not an obligation.” Trevor’s expression softened. “It bears no strings, no expectations, and no requirements. Whatever the faults of your past, they are best left to history. Take what Elaine offers and be grateful she honors you with her heart.”

For several minutes, Ross assessed their advice, in light of his shame. But Elaine believed him innocent, in that respect. She accepted him, faults and all, and that counted for something, did it not?

“Let us say, for the sake of argument, I am in love with my wife.” There. It was uttered, and he did not combust in a puff of smoke. “How would you recommend I proceed?”

to catch a fallen spy

chapter thirteen

As was her
usual routine, Elaine dressed for a visit to Caroline’s, where they gathered to discuss men, children, and sex. Although Cara and Sabrina also remained in town, both nursed sick babies, so it would be a rather small and quiet affair. After securing her bonnet, which matched her lavender wool gown and coat, she tugged on her gloves, collected her reticule, and strolled into the hall.

Skipping down the stairs, she glimpsed her handsome husband and mustered a smile. To her surprise, he noticed her presence, and her heart skipped a beat. Was it possible the tide had turned in her favor. Had the previous afternoon’s wild romp broken through the last barrier?

“Where do you think you are going?” His acerbic tone halted her in her tracks.

“To Caroline’s, as usual.” She blinked. “Why?”

“I told you there would be no more visits, and I am well aware of your schedule.” Clutching her arm, he retraced her movements. “You are not permitted to leave this house, but you are free to do as you wish within the confines of these walls.”

“But you cannot be serious.” Anger surfaced and flared like a fever. “I am to be a prisoner because you overreact to a few unfortunate events?”

“I am not overreacting.” The flush in his face hinted at unleashed ire. “Lord Waddlington wants you dead, and I will protect you, even if I have to lock you in your suite, and I do not give a damn about Brethren independence.”

“You would not dare do such a thing.” That was it, the final straw. “You have no right.”

“I have every right, as your husband.” As if to prove his point, he hauled her upstairs.

“Husband?” she spat. “You use that term lightly, sir, as you want nothing to do with me outside our bed.”

“You wanted me.” Ross all but dragged her into her apartment, and she marveled that he knew its location. “Well you have me, and I command you to confine your activities to our residence, unless I am with you, but I have no plans to tempt fate again.”

With that, he slammed shut the door, and she shook her fist at him. Emitting an unladylike invective, she threw her reticule across the room and yanked off her bonnet. Just as quick, an idea formed in her brain.

Exchanging her coat for a warm shawl, she grabbed a book from her night table and returned to the foyer, whereupon an agent from the Corps cast a sheepish expression.

“Hello.” She glanced left and then right, and there was no sign of Ross. “I should like to read in the back parlor, but I prefer privacy, if that is all right with you.”

“Of course, Mrs. Logan.” The handsome young man nodded once. “I can sit in the hall.”

“How accommodating are you.” As if some marauding barbarian was going to assault her amid power blue lace and coordinating damask. Slow and steady, she glided to the back of the first floor, slipped into the tiny receiving chamber, and pressed her ear to the oak panel.

It was quiet, so she dropped the book on the
chaise
, tiptoed to the large window, flung open the sash, and made her escape. In the alley, she checked for any sign of an agent, but she suspected they rested comfortably inside, so she darted to Farm Street.

On the corner, she paused for traffic and was just about to cross the road, when someone tapped her on the shoulder, and Elaine jumped and shrieked.

“What are you doing out here?” Caroline rocked on her heels and chuckled. “Ross sent word early this morning that I could visit you, because you could not travel to see me. My rig just dropped me at your doorstep, when I spotted you.”

“No.” She gritted her teeth. “That man is impossible. He has made me a prisoner to his paranoid delusions.”

“So I gather you did not wish to go back?” Caroline twined her arm with Elaine’s. “Shall we walk? It is a brisk but sunny day, and I could use the fresh air, as Trevor dotes on me.”

“Oh, a walk sounds lovely.” Elaine steered them toward Park Lane. “And why does Trevor dote? Is everything all right?”

“Everything is more than all right.” Caroline giggled. “I am pregnant.”

“Dear sister.” Elated at once, Elaine halted and hugged her friend. “I am so happy for you.” And then tears beckoned, as Elaine recalled the sorry state of her marriage.

“There, there.” Caroline offered her handkerchief. “Tell me everything.”

And so they toured London, sharing tales of marital woes, and Elaine realized that, when it came to relationships, the real work began after the nuptials. But while the Brethren husbands stumbled, they shared one thing in common: an unimpeachable desire for their wives, and that was what Ross lacked.

Perhaps he did not want her.

Indecision marked the brief tenure of their union, and Elaine resolved to make amends and, if necessary, grant his freedom. Because she simply could not maintain the lie their marriage had become.

“What time is it?” asked Caroline.

“I know not.” Elaine shrugged. “And where are we?”

“There you have me.” Caroline scanned the area. “But there is a passing hack. Flag the driver, and let us ride home, as Trevor is to fetch me there.”

“Oy.” Elaine waved, and the black hackney pulled to the curb. “Can you take us to 25 Farm Street, in Mayfair?”

“Of course, ma’am.” The dirty driver bared a toothy grin.

Seated in the squabs, Elaine tried to raise the shades, but there were stuck. Just then, the rig lurched and pitched, and she fell to the floor. “Good heavens, he is dangerous.”

“We could find another way back.” Caroline tottered precariously.

Elaine pounded on the side, but the driver did not respond, so she grasped the door latch. When she discovered it would not budge, she peered at Caroline. “I think we are in trouble.”

#

After his wicked row with Elaine, Ross spent the next couple of hours in his study, trying but failing to work. So he yielded the logs and sat before the fireplace to consider his visit with Trevor and Everett.

The simple truth was he loved his wife. That was why he tried so hard to protect her, and he suspected she was in real danger, regardless of her thoughts to the contrary. But he needed to share his feelings with her. Needed her to understand that is was concern for her life that drove him to extremes.

As he drained the last of a glass of liquid courage, he strode into the foyer, where one of his men stood guard. “Agent Simmons, where is Mrs. Logan?”

“Allen is guarding her in the back parlor, Sir Ross.”

So Ross turned on his heel, just as someone knocked at the door. Given his presence, he received his caller. “Trevor? What brings you here?”

“I am to pick up my wife.” He chucked Ross on the arm. “Is she ready?”

“But Caroline is not here.” Ross narrowed his stare. “When was she supposed to arrive?”

“Our driver dropped her here this morning.” Trevor stepped across the threshold and hollered at his man. “Where did you leave Lady Lockwood?”

“On the sidewalk, my lord.” The driver scratched his temple. “Her ladyship spotted her friend and bade me stop at the corner.”

Ross sprinted, full speed to the back parlor and found his agent sitting in the hall. He flung open the door, and a blast of cool air hit him in the face. There, at the rear of the room, was an open window. “My God, Elaine is gone.”

to catch a fallen spy