Unmasking the Spy (22 page)

“I’ll be back sometime tomorrow
evening.”

Alicia’s head jerked up at the
sound of her father’s deep voice. He stood in the doorway, dressed for the
weather and holding a small satchel.

“Be safe,” she answered. “I hope
it is a good trip.”

After a brief hesitation, Chadwick
strode into the room. “What are you working on, daughter?” he asked gruffly.

Chagrined, Alicia fished her
crumpled embroidery from the basket and smoothed the half-finished roses on her
knee for his inspection. His index finger drummed an embarrassed rhythm on the
handle of his satchel and he gave a short nod. “I’m sure it will be very nice.”

Alicia gazed at the man standing
before her, trying so hard to show her a bit of interest and compassion.
Nibbling at her lower lip, she tried to decide whether or not she should bring
up the desperate thoughts clamoring on the tip of her tongue. “Papa,” she began
then closed her mouth when Beatrix began waving her embroidery in the air.

“Here’s mine!” her aunt cried,
thrusting out her skinny arms and holding up the small square of fabric. Random
squiggles of color dotted two of the corners and one long violet line crossed
the center of the cloth diagonally.

Chadwick frowned at Beatrix’s
haphazard design and wrinkled grin and closed his eyes as if to block the image
from his mind. He turned on his heels and walked to the door. As he passed
through the doorframe, he swiveled around to face Alicia one last time.

“Were you going to say something,
daughter?”

Alicia considered, and shook her
head. “Have a good time, Papa. I’ll miss you.”

He inclined his head to each of
them and was gone.

*          *          *

Although Ian was pretty sure he’d
been glancing at the time for the past four hours, it somehow seemed that a
mere ten minutes had passed. Sighing, he rose to his feet, picked up the stiff
black mask lying on his desk, and headed downstairs. Elizabeth wouldn’t be
planning to meet him for a few hours, but he couldn’t wait around any longer.
Besides, he could poke around the vases in the library while he waited for her
to appear.

Ian leapt down the front steps to
the street and Cobb closed the townhouse door behind him. Walking over would
waste at least an hour, and with any luck the exercise would burn off some of
his nervous energy. This was new. He’d never snuck into anyplace he didn’t have
to before.

Then again, Elizabeth expected
him and a gentleman always kept his engagements. Of course he had to go.

He sauntered down the side of the
street, careful to avoid stepping in any horse droppings. Women appreciated neither
the smell, nor the effect on their carpets – not that he blamed them.

Remembering Caspian’s comments about Chadwick’s late
wife, Ian wondered whether Elizabeth would turn out to be as beautiful as the
rest of the Holsworths. After a moment, he gave one shoulder an idle shrug. Her
looks didn’t signify. If they discovered that they suited, he might not even
mention to her that patches have become outré and let her wear them as much as
she wanted. Ian grinned. His sisters would just love that.

His mask felt heavy in his
pocket. Ian wondered what it would be like to present himself to Elizabeth without wearing it, to show himself for who he was. Foolish thoughts. If he were
wooing her anywhere but during secret midnight rendezvous, perhaps. But not
tonight.

When would he explain his
deception? And how? Perhaps now that he and Alicia Kinsey were friends of a
sort, he could come to call and run into Elizabeth that way. Once they “met” in
some official, proper capacity, he could court Elizabeth as openly as he
wished.

Although he was far from being
the Season’s most eligible bachelor, a match with him might be moving upwards
for a poor relation. And even if she did not feel his position to be
advantageous, she couldn’t deny that a shared passion like theirs was a gift to
treasure.

Ian trudged on until Chadwick
House loomed before him at last. He fastened his mask snug around his eyes and
hiked across the lawn. He hoisted himself up on a ledge, slid through a window,
and eased into the house.

All was silent and still.

Once his vision adjusted to the
darkness, Ian made his way to the library. Without a candle to guide him, the
books’ titles were unreadable. The thin sliver of moon hanging in the sky cast
little light into the room. Ian headed to the first wall. Lucky for him, he
didn’t need light.

He advanced around the room,
shaking pottery and turning over vases, shoving his hand inside when the
openings were big enough for him to feel around for hidden papers and other
miscellany. By the time he’d circled back to the library door, he’d exhausted
all potential sources of the anonymous note’s improbable claim. Chadwick House
held nothing of interest.

Nothing except Elizabeth, of
course. Ian smiled to himself and settled down to wait in a chair by the
window. He hoped she hurried.

*          *          *

Alicia awoke with a start, bathed
in sweat. She’d had yet another stupid nightmare about being publicly
compromised by Louis. Shaking, she threw off the covers and sat up. Oh, no. A
sudden thought struck her. She was late to meet Rogue!

Shrugging off the last vestiges
of the bad dream, Alicia dashed across the icy floor to her vanity and slapped
patches on her face as fast as she could. She snatched her mobcap from the
tabletop as she careened around the corner and out the door.

She almost crashed into the wall
when she realized she couldn’t hear her father’s thunderous snores. After a
moment of pure panic, Alicia remembered he’d gone antiquity-hunting with Louis
and wouldn’t be back until late tomorrow. She skated down the stairs with such
haste that her heels never touched the cold steps. When she reached the ground
floor, she paused to catch her breath, one hand clutching the banister. No
sense bursting in on him with her chest heaving, and her lungs exhaling in
little panting breaths.

Once she’d collected herself,
Alicia maneuvered down the dark hallway until she reached the library. She
pushed open the door and peered inside.

Rogue relaxed in her favorite
chair, slumped slightly to one side and looking as adorable as ever. Had he
fallen asleep? Alicia took a startled step forward. Thank heavens she’d woken
in time to meet him! What if he’d still been in the chair when the household
rose in the morning?

“I’m awake,” came his seductive
whisper.

Alicia jumped, certain for a
moment that he could read her mind. She took another tentative step toward him.

“For a while there,” he said in
his soft, teasing voice, “I was afraid you weren’t coming.”

“Never,” she whispered, and
closed the door behind her.

At the sound of the latch
catching, she expected Rogue to rise to his feet and come to her. Perhaps even
kiss her. Instead, he sat up straighter in his seat and stared calmly in her
direction. Alicia shivered. She could feel the intensity of his gaze on her
body. Although she knew she was shrouded in shadows, she felt as though she
were standing naked and helpless before him. Her breath quickened.

“Come here,” he invited, patting
the arm of the chair.

Alicia hesitated only a moment
before venturing across the room. She stopped in front of his chair, the folds
of her skirt brushing against his knees.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

 She pivoted in a slow circle.
Strong hands gripped her waist and tumbled her into his lap. Giggling in
surprise, she tried to look at him, but his arms encircled her in a quick,
fierce hug.

“I was afraid you weren’t
coming,” he admitted, self-mocking in his voice.

Alicia twisted her body so that
her bent knees hung over the left arm of the chair, letting her legs dangle
against the side. She reached up in the darkness, cupping his face in her
hands. The thick leather of his mask felt smooth and soft against her
fingertips, and the invisible stubble on his cheeks prickled her palms. Copying
one of his oft-repeated moves, she rubbed the tip of her nose against his.

“Never,” she repeated.

He slanted his head so that her
lips crushed his and he opened his mouth beneath hers. She needed no further
invitation to explore its depths with her tongue, feeling cherished and
powerful at the same time.

As they kissed, his right hand
massaged her shoulders and back. When the hand resting on her knee slid up her
thigh, crossed her stomach, and hovered uncertainly over her breast, Alicia
leaned into his touch, pressing his lips against hers and his palm against the
thin fabric covering her swelling breast.

Expert fingers cupped the soft
weight and brushed against the straining nipple. Rogue peppered a row of kisses
along the edge of her jaw and down the line of her throat, and before Alicia
realized he’d undone her nightdress, he bent his head and suckled the bare
breast still cupped in his hand, teasing the nipple with his teeth.

Alicia tangled his hair in her
fingers, trying not to scream with pleasure. She was pretty sure she’d crossed
the line separating stolen kisses from shameless impropriety, but oh, God, his
tongue felt so good against her naked skin and his fingers… What was he doing
with his fingers?

Rogue’s right hand inched around
her waist and hiked her skirt up to her hips. Knowing she was completely bare
underneath, Alicia tried to protest but he captured her mouth with searing
kisses and she forgot to think at all.

While one hand continued to play
with the exposed breast, the other hand crept along her leg, stroking the soft
skin of her naked thigh, each stroke slightly higher than the last. A strange
tension began to coil in her stomach as his fingers brushed closer and closer,
and she began to wish–

Before the thought completely
formulated, the tips of his fingers were there, tickling the wet curls between
her thighs. Alicia writhed in his arms, rubbing her breast against his palm,
bucking her hips against the teasing torture of his fingers, and gasping
against his mouth.

His fingers parted her and rubbed
against the swollen nub inside until Alicia felt the storm inside of her explode,
her thighs trapping his hand between her legs as she convulsed around his
fingers. Rogue captured her muffled scream with his open-mouth kisses and held
her until her body quieted.

Shaking, Alicia clung to his
broad shoulders, barely noticing when he smoothed down her skirts and
refastened her nightdress. She sagged against his chest, trembling with
pleasure and astonishment.

Crooning soft nonsense words into
her neck, he held her close to him long after she felt her body relax in his
arms.

“Elizabeth?” he asked, his cheek
pressed against hers.

“Yes?” she whispered, glorying in
the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her.

“I’d like to court you, if I
may.”

Startled, Alicia jerked her head
back far enough to squint at his face in the darkness. Not for the first time,
she wished she could see his eyes.

“Not right now,” he said in a
droll tone, “Soon. I’d like to come to you as I really am. As a man. May I?”

Alicia opened her mouth but no
sound came out.

He brushed his lips against her
cheek so that she could feel him smile. “Don’t answer now. Think about it. Let
me know the next time we meet.”

She nodded dumbly, her mind
fracturing in a thousand directions.

In one movement, he scooped her
up, stood, and placed her on her feet. “You don’t know how sorry I am that I
cannot stay longer,” he murmured. “I’ll return as soon as I can, but I must
leave before dawn breaks. Goodbye, my love.” He kissed the tip of her nose and
disappeared through the door.

Alicia fell back into the chair
in a heap of tangled limbs. What was she going to do?

*          *          *

By seven o’clock the next
evening, she still hadn’t come up with a satisfactory answer to Rogue’s
question. Her maid pushed and prodded her into her newest gown, but Alicia’s
thoughts were far from the Thornwaite’s engagement that night. When she’d
accepted the invitation, she’d had no way to know her mind would still be
reeling from a very close call with lovemaking.

An incredible, amazing,
ridiculously romantic bout of love-play with an irresistible masked rogue, who
wanted to make the relationship permanent. Alicia shuddered with remembered
delight at the feel of his fingers against her skin, the touch of his tongue
against her–

“Miss Kinsey, if you don’t hold
still,” warned Jenny.

“Sorry,” Alicia muttered with a
guilty half-smile. Friends would be arriving in the next hour to take her with
them to the Thornwaite’s, since Louis and Papa were out of town. She had to
stop thinking about Rogue.

But, oh, how could she? He was
perfect. Well, maybe not perfect, but how disappointing could his true persona
be? He wanted to meet her, to court her in truth. And why not? He was a damn
sight better than Louis. Even if he was dirt poor and not nearly as striking
without the mask, she didn’t care. He liked her for her.