All Men Are Rogues (15 page)

Her pace quickened. He gripped her buttocks, trying to hang on. His heart was pounding like horse hooves and his breath was coming in short gasps. She was going so fast, driving him so hard, that he couldn’t hold on. His hips lifted off the table, plunging into her, challenging her to take her fill.

She came with a loud moan, gloriously pulsing her innermost muscles around him in a heated rush. He pumped his hips harder, throbbing into her, feeling his existence crash into shattering pieces. With a final thrust, he poured his seed inside.

The world slowly came back into focus. She lay atop him, warm, wet, and soft. Her heart still raced in crescendo with his. Breathless, she peeled herself to a sitting position, squeezing him inside her. Still joined to him, she pushed her golden hair from her face, staring down at him, uncertainty filling her sparkling blue eyes.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she stated huskily. She shook her head. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“It’s the only thing between us that makes any sense to me,” he replied gruffly. He traced his hands down her arms. “Nothing else does.”

“Oh, no! You’re bleeding!” She jumped off him so swiftly that he felt bereft. She ran from the room, returning quickly with fresh bandages, a jar, and a bowl.

Now that he was back to his senses, his body was aching from the stimulating exertion. His back burned raw from the wood grain. His head was hammering so hard that it made his teeth clench. But it was nothing compared to the searing pain in his chest. Still, he did not want her ever to hesitate to love him so thoroughly, as she’d just done. “It’s alright,” he managed to bite out.

“No, it’s not. So don’t pretend to be fine,” she chided, chewing on that lush bottom lip. With her eyes never straying from the wound, she commented, “I never should have, we never should have…”

He grabbed her arm. “I’d walk through fire to have you mount me like that again, so don’t think a gunshot wound is going to slow me down.”

She looked away, her cheeks tinging a delicious rose while she tried to hide her pleased smile. “Well, let’s forget about…
that
for the moment and concentrate on removing your bandage and re-dressing that wound.”

He tried to think of a witty rejoinder, but the thundering in his head amplified to an earth-shattering roar, making speech impossible.

She eased him up and helped him walk to his room. He dropped onto the bed, biting his inner cheek so as not to groan. She sat down beside him and, with his stilted cooperation, slowly unwound the cloth. The scents of lavender and sex wafted around her in a heady bouquet. Once free of the bandage, he lay back down, relieved for the rest.

He was irritated by how much the coupling had taxed him. He peeked down at the odious injury, which was burning as if the air licking his flesh were burning cinder. It was small, oval, and ghastly enough to make his head swim. He rolled his face away and clenched his teeth, intent on not revisiting his repast all over his lovely nurse.

“Are you alright?” she asked worriedly.

“Fine,” he snarled. “Just please be quick about it.”

Her hands were skillful and gentle as she wiped away the old medicine and lathed fresh poultice on him. An icy fire raced up, and then down, his body, raising bumps along his skin. The poultice smelled of mint and linseed…. He focused on the mint as his stomach lurched and his head reeled.

Suddenly a cold, wet cloth was set upon his forehead, easing his discomfort. He opened his eyes and captured her concerned gaze. She took another damp cloth and slowly brushed the coolness across his upper chest. Relief flooded through him, and he relaxed.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” he breathed.

She did not answer as she stroked the wet rag along his bare arms.

He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him. How he’d like to stay hidden in the country with her forever. Instead he asked, “How long do you suppose we’re safe here?”

“I don’t know.” Her manner had once again cooled, but that could not undo what had just happened between them. “Angel was supposed to come this afternoon or next. Hopefully he will have news.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have more information for you, Evelyn. I wish I knew all the answers to your questions.”

“Shhh,” she coaxed. “Get some rest, Justin. We’ve had about as much excitement as I can handle for the moment.”

He smiled, barely able to keep his eyes open. His head felt like it weighed ten stone as it pressed deep into the pillow. “Now that’s the kind of excitement I like…” His words were a mumble, but his lips remained lifted at the corners as he drifted off to sleep. She did not hate him. He did not fool himself into thinking all was sunshine and roses between them, but she did not hate him, not nearly.

J
ustin woke near dawn; at least he thought it was close to morning. It was hard to tell, with the rain pouring down so hard that the rooftop seemed to be drumming a symphony. The light was still dim, and the air smelled fresh and damp. He loved a hearty English rain. It washed away all the soot a London street could harvest.

He adjusted his shoulders, feeling the painful aftereffects of his nocturnal activities. Despite the fact that his body ached liked the dickens, nothing could eclipse the budding joy in his heart. Evelyn still had feelings for him. He wanted to shout to the hilltops with happiness.

Despite her harsh words, she had to care for him to make love to him with such ardor, to nurse him with such tender dedication. Given that kernel of hope, he intended to fan the flames of that tiny ember into a conflagration that would bind her to him forever. He had taken her innocence, she had saved his life; he owed her that much. He owed that much to himself. He would do everything in his power to make things right with her.

He had to find a way to repair the damage he’d wrought with his recent chicanery. No matter that his role was unwitting, he had played her cruelly, and this he could not forgive. He must free her from all treachery, restore her funds, and save her and her innocent loved ones. The problem was, he could not tell the guilty from the blameless, given his lack of information and mobility.

As soon as his body healed, he would remedy Evelyn’s situation. He only prayed that before then he had the chance to bond her heart with his. Now that he had tasted the intoxicating fires of her passion, he recognized how bereft his life had been. In the quiet of the dawn, the memories washed over him. With them came emotions pounding his heart like an anvil hammering a suit of armor that refused to take shape. Duty had always driven him; he had known nothing else. In his family it was the most cherished success. Now he understood there was much more to life than fulfilling others’ expectations.

Awareness of his mortality overwhelmed him. He could no longer afford to be the specter of the man he wished to be. There was too little time; life was too precious. He would make the most of his imperfect existence. It was time for him to lay claim to his life based on his needs—not his mother’s, Wheaton’s, Society’s, or anybody bloody else’s.

Evelyn was the key to his metamorphosis. She’d shown him that thoughtfully challenging others could be a healthy thing, driven by a strong sense of self. She knew who she was and what she wanted in life. He could not have admired her more. Evelyn never pretended to be anything other than what she was—strong, independent, intelligent, and kind. And she did not let anyone knock her self-worth, a trait he longed to emulate.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Nervously brushing her hand across her fair hair, the lovely lady pervading his thoughts glided into the room. “Would you like something to eat?” She carried a small candle, encircling her in a golden halo.

He smiled. Despite the drab gown and shadows under her eyes, she looked radiant. He decided when this mess was over he’d buy her a hundred gowns, in dazzling rainbow colors. No more black for Evelyn Amherst. “Actually, I’m feeling quite content this morning.”

With her eyes never meeting his, she set the candle on the side table. Keeping her head averted, she drew the broom from the corner and frenetically swept the room in hasty brush strokes. The clattering downpour barely covered the swoosh of the broom.

“I don’t believe the floor needs cleaning right now. Why, you can barely see.”

She shrugged, not answering or meeting his eyes.

“Is something bothering you, Evelyn?”

The broom abruptly stopped midstroke, the straw bowing as she pressed her weight onto it. “I, we need to talk about…well…” Her cheeks blushed an enchanting rose, and she seemed at a loss.

“Evelyn, have you slept at all this night?”

She shook her head in the negative. “I couldn’t. I kept thinking about what I, well, what we…” Her blue gaze met his. “I can’t believe my behavior. I’m mortified…” Wringing her hands on the broom handle, she murmured, “By what I said, what we did…”

He could not keep the corners of his lips from quirking, just thinking about her wild side. “I certainly did not mind.”

Dropping the broom into the corner, she replied, “Well, I did.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m not proud of the things I said last night—”

“Oh, about my mother hating me?” He waved her off. “I know she doesn’t. She drives me to distraction with her attempts to manipulate my life, but she really does care. Nothing anyone can say will change that.”

Evelyn peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. “So, you didn’t believe me?”

“The same way I didn’t believe it when you said you hated me.”

She scowled. “I certainly find myself horrifically angry with you—”

“You didn’t seem so angry when you pushed me onto the table,” he interrupted.

“Shh,” she chided, glaring at the open doorway. “Shah might hear you!”

“The woman must sleep like the dead, not to have heard us last night.” Extending his arm, he beckoned, “Come here.”

She shuffled closer with obvious hesitation.

He grasped her hand in the circle of his palms and squeezed it gently. “I have no explanation for what’s happening between us.” It was not precisely the truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either. “But don’t ever think there’s anything sordid or shameful regarding how we feel about each other.”

“That’s just it,” she countered, her blue gaze shimmering with misery. “I don’t know how I feel about you. It was easy when I hated you. Black and white. But then you saved me.” Shaking her head, she frowned. “And now you tease me and kiss me and well…you never did tell me why you saved me that night at your brother’s.”

A hearty laugh erupted from his throat, and he kissed her palm. How he loved her scent. “I couldn’t let you go and die after all of my convoluted attempts to ensnare you!”

“Ensnare?”

“I wanted you to like me. Enough to share your secrets with me. But you never did. Instead I found myself liking you very,
very
much.”

“There’s the rub; I didn’t tell you anything because I didn’t want to involve you. It’s bad enough that I have to live in the shadow of my father’s world. I wanted to save you from it.” She pulled her hand from his grasp. “When all along you were mixed up in the nefarious games.”

“I regret many things, Evelyn. But I will not apologize for fulfilling my duty to my country.”

A wistful smile flashed across her features. “That’s what Father used to say.”

The rain pounded down the roof, reminding Justin of marching soldiers. “Stopping Napoleon is our most urgent responsibility. I will do whatever it takes to help make that happen. I was under the belief you were aiding the enemy. It was all a bit muddled at the time. But my intentions were true, although, I must admit, grossly misguided.”

She met his gaze. “I seem to be the one confused where you are concerned, Justin. But emotions have no place in this nasty business. They can play no part in saving Sully.”

“I used to think that emotions were a liability when it came to the spy trade, Evelyn. I don’t feel that way any longer. If I hadn’t grown to care for you—”

“I’d be dead,” she finished for him.

He grasped her hand and pulled her back to the bed.

Licking her lips, she ventured, “But I wonder where these feelings can take us. When this is over, pray we all make it out of this mess alive, I want my freedom. I never want to deal with subterfuge, lies, or government chicanery again. I want a secure future, on my own.” She shook her head. “I intend to leave these shores, Justin, never to come back to England.”

That was very bad news indeed. She was a strong-minded woman, unused to changing her mind.

“This is too much contemplation before breakfast,” he chided gently, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and drawing her to his chest. She went willingly enough. Her luscious body molded against him, and a small sigh escaped her lips. He pressed his lips to her silky tresses. “We will do the best we can, for the moment.” He tilted her chin, and he brushed his mouth across hers. “And for the moment, the best thing I can think to do is kiss all thoughts of spies and treachery from your mind.”

He nibbled on her lips, and they parted. He kissed her tenderly, savoring her sweetness.

Pots clattered in the kitchen. Was it his imagination, or were they exceedingly loud? Shah was no fool; he just prayed she was on his side in this skirmish to win Evelyn’s heart.

Evelyn slowly extricated herself from his embrace. “I’ll go help Shah with breakfast.”

Watching her glide from the room, he could only thank the heavens for this opportunity to be closeted away in the country with Evelyn. In his condition he could not do much to help untangle the espionage mess, so he might as well take advantage of this time to change the tide of her feelings regarding England and regarding him. For if she left him in the end, all he’d have would be his duty, and that wasn’t near enough at all.

T
wo days passed, and for Evelyn it was like an isolated harbor perched in the eye of a storm. All was quiet, yet not at peace. Tension permeated the air despite the idyllic setting. Her relationship with Justin was evolving, yet she could only let her emotions go so far. She knew the time would soon come when she would leave him and these shores, and she did not plan on taking a broken heart with her. She resolved to enjoy this haven with him, preserving a lifetime of memories in a few short days. For that was all, she feared, they would ever have.

She’d been so hesitant to leave Justin this morning, as if everything would magically end just as it had so abruptly begun again between them. In his condition he could not go far, yet she worried that altering the chemistry of their respite even slightly might bring reality crashing down on her head.

But Angel had been gone far too long. She had to find out if he had left word for her at the local inn. Lamentably, he had not. So she and Shah spent some time in town making a number of necessary purchases. She had to admit, no matter how much she enjoyed the view of Justin’s strapping form, it was time to obtain some decent clothing for him. Heaven only knew when they would have to leave their sanctuary in the woods and how quickly they would have to go.

Shah trudged along beside her on the beaten track, barely saying a word on the journey to town and back. She tilted her head, eyeing the clouds sweeping past. “A storm comes.”

Evelyn pulled her hood closer. The scent of damp hung on an agitated wind. “Yes. I can smell it.”

“Perhaps Señor Arolas will come before it pours.”

Evelyn did not respond. A million things could have delayed Angel, but with Wheaton and Helderby on their backs, too many things could have gone wrong. Evelyn had questioned Justin extensively about Colonel Wheaton, the man she ventured was the key to unlocking this treachery. Wheaton seemed a nemesis without discernable weakness. According to Justin, his loyalty was beyond reproach, he had never married, had no family to speak of, lived modestly and looked after his men. Yet he was a coldhearted leader, one who viewed everyone as expendable.

Evelyn shuddered in the sudden chill. No doubt, if his own men were a means to an end, Sully was nothing more than a cheap instrument in obtaining his goals. Whatever those goals might be.

Justin had far less to say about Helderby, and Evelyn knew he was trying not to frighten her. All he would say was that the man was like a barely tamed beast and Wheaten held the leash, quite loosely at times.

“If Angel does not come,” Shah asked as she stepped over a rut in the trail, “will we go to the marquis’s estate in Bedford?”

“I don’t know what we’ll do.” Besides her great concern over her dear friends, how could she possibly stay with Justin in his exacting world of rules and propriety? Somehow she doubted Lady Barclay or anyone else in Society would welcome her presence as Justin’s…what? She was his friend, his lover, and his partner in trying to get to the bottom of Wheaton’s games. But unless she married Justin or became a kept mistress, two things she would not do, there was no place for a woman like her in English Society.

On the rocky path, their shoes crunched loudly in the silence of the woods. Evelyn’s footsteps hastened as the door to the lodge came into view.

Shah opened the entry, and they stepped inside the shadowed cabin.

“Justin?” Evelyn called, anticipation pooling in her belly.

He stood in the threshold to his room, one hand holding up the blanket at his waist, the other hidden from view. His honey-wheat hair had grown longer, sweeping across his brow and emphasizing his eyes. They’d shaved his beard the day before, and with the peachy color in his handsomely chiseled features, he looked like a Nordic god. A snowy bandage still covered his muscled chest, but the sight of his bare shoulders made her belly flip and her body simmer. He was a feast for her eyes and her senses.

Pulling out the pistol he’d been holding behind his back, he set it onto the tabletop. “I’m so glad you’ve returned safely. Any word?”

Mutely, she shook her head. A sudden shyness overcame her; you’d think by now she would have grown accustomed to his dazzling looks. Part of her prayed she never did; as long as they had this time together, she longed to enjoy every last bit of it.

“Well, at least you got to go shopping,” he teased. “I’m told it can uplift any female’s spirits.”

She raised her brow questioningly.

“Oh, yes, how could I have forgotten?” He smiled wickedly. “You are not the typical female.”

Playing at being put off, she dropped her parcels onto the wooden chair. “I’m glad you noticed.” But she could not hide her smile.

“I notice everything about you, Evelyn. Everything.” His glorious eyes smoldered and her breath caught. She was devastatingly aware of his magnetism; it lured her to him so that she might cavort in the shimmering waters of those grayish-green pools.

Shah ripped open a brown paper package, wrenching Evelyn back to the moment. Inhaling deeply, Evelyn pulled her eyes from Justin’s gaze. She had to keep reminding herself that they were not alone.

Beaming knowingly, he looked over the many parcels, inquiring, “And how was your excursion?”

Mischievous once more, she made a face. “Horrid.” She unfastened her cloak and hung it on the wall hook. “The salesclerk kept pressing me to purchase Pimpernel Water—you know, to improve the skin.” She raised her hand to her flawless cheek. “We’ve all been guilty of not donning our bonnet properly, but I had no idea my cheeks were so blotchy.”

He grinned, seemingly delighted with her humor. “I have that problem myself.”

“Blotchy skin?”

“Not wearing my bonnet.”

They shared a smile. Her cheeks warmed and she asked, “How do you feel?”

“About sixty years old now.”

“I thought you were looking a bit beyond your prime.”

Unwrapping the paper on the largest package, she pulled out a long black cloak.

“You shouldn’t have,” he jibed. “I was just lamenting the fact that I would have to become civilized once more.”

Her lips quirked and her cheeks burned. He had not been overly civilized the night before. His eyes sparkled, as if he could read her thoughts.

“Go try on the clothes,” she admonished, pushing him toward his room.

“I’ll need help.”

“So does Shah,” she replied. ‘With luncheon.”

As the women prepared the meal, Evelyn could hear the floorboards creaking as Justin moved about his chamber. The temptation to peek in on him was overwhelming. Wiping her hands on a cloth, she commented self-consciously, “I’ll go check on Justin. To see if the clothes fit.”

Shah nodded, not looking up from peeling the potatoes. “When I’m done here, I’ll go gather more herbs.”

Evelyn had to admit, her trusty maid was no fool, but neither was she judgmental. Evelyn recalled that Shah had been wed once, but she rarely spoke of it. Apparently it was not a good marriage, and the man had died before any children were born. The only time Shah referred to it was when counting her blessings. Still, she did not begrudge Evelyn her relationship with Justin, something Evelyn was becoming more and more thankful for with each passing day.

Evelyn knocked lightly on the door.

“Come.

“I struggled with the coat a bit,” he commented, adjusting his sleeves. “But I did bearably well, given I had no assistance.”

“If you’d had my assistance, you probably wouldn’t have gotten past your undergarments,” she teased, a bit shocked by her boldness.

“Thank goodness you’re not my valet. I’d never leave the house.”

“You look wonderful.” The clothes did not fit him as perfectly as did his fine tailored London attire, but the navy wool suit made him appear brawny and dashedly handsome.

“I’m glad you think so. You know how much I like to impress.”

Reaching for her, he wrapped his strong arms around her waist. Brushing a tendril of hair away from her face, he curled it about her ear, sending shivers racing up her spine. He sighed into her hair. “It’s almost hard to care about the intrigues going on outside this little pocket of the world when you are near.”

She frowned, reminded of her disappointment today. “I wish I knew what was taking Angel so long.”

“I know you’re worried, darling. But if he can get here, he will.” He pressed a tender kiss to her temple.

The leaves rustled outside, and the first spatterings of rain drummed on the rooftop.

“Shah wanted to collect more herbs,” she mumbled. As if reacting to her thoughts, she heard the heavy kitchen door open and close with a thud.

“It’s only sprinkling,” he commented, looking out the window. “I love the rain, and so does my dear friend, Mr. Oak.”

She raised her brow, amused. “Your friend?”

“He kept me company while you were gone. I told him all about my lovely nurse and her inventive remedies.”

Evelyn’s cheeks warmed and she replied, “In some Eastern countries a bride plants a tree in her yard as her wedding nears. She might decorate it with colored ribbons to express her joy. Legend has it the bride would live as long as the tree.”

“In Bedford there is a big oak that must be three hundred years old. Its trunk is fatter than a horse’s rump, its roots gnarl the ground paces all around, and it’s got a hump stuck right in its center.” He playfully squeezed her middle. “Would you like to live to be three hundred years old?”

She huffed, “I am having enough trouble with twenty-two.” Grazing her cheek across his fuzzy jaw, she added thoughtfully, “Still, it would be a joy to plant a tree, water it, watch it grow every day. To be able to see the roots take and deepen, tighten around the soil as if laying claim to its eternal corner of the world.”

“Roots do grant one a sense of balance. You would do a place well if you stayed long enough to plant the seeds of your brightness.”

She shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to reality. “I was talking about the tree.”

“I am talking about you. Staying in England. I would protect you….”

“Shh. Enough talk about that.” Not a day went by that he did not try to convince her to trust him with her future. She was coming to wait for his offer. Although she knew she would refuse, she enjoyed being sought after so enthusiastically.

“If you would leave England, then where would you go?” he asked, pursing his lips, apparently accepting her rebuff.

“Italy.”

“Why?”

She let out a long breath and looked out the window, lost in the memories of golden villas, shimmering cobalt blue waters, and delectable feasts that seemed to last for days. “It’s a beautiful country. But the primary reason would be for the people. Some of them certainly like to bellow a lot, but deep at heart they are wonderfully gracious. I was eighteen on our last tenure there. I became ill, and the neighbors could not have been more helpful.”

“Is that where you collected those dastardly kittens your father complained of?”

She tilted her head to see his features, suddenly feeling vulnerable about him knowing of her father’s journal.

At the look on her face he continued, “Between the leather-bound volume you’re always reading and the stories I recalled, it did not take much to piece the puzzle together.”

She felt silly for being so secretive. “I have found nothing in it that would lead to murder.”

“It’s certainly a logical starting place. I wonder, does anyone else know of its existence?”

“I don’t know.”

He shook his head. “If someone wanted the journal, they could have simply blackmailed you for it.”

She raised her eyebrow. “I marvel how your mind always slinks to the dark side.”

“It was why I was so useful to our government. And,” he murmured as he dipped his nose beneath her hair and nibbled on her earlobe, “why I will be useful to you now.”

“Let me show you how you can be useful to me,” she replied, wanting to end all talk of intrigue and of the future. They had little enough time together; she wanted to enjoy every precious moment of it. Taking his hand, she led him to the bed. “As your nurse, it’s my opinion you need to lie down, my lord.”

“I always follow the nurse’s orders.”

He drew her down on top of him and kissed all thoughts of the outside world from her mind.

Pulling back from his embrace, she stated breathlessly, “Let’s get these cumbersome English clothes off you.” Unwilling to wait, she pressed small kisses on the nape of his neck as she yanked off his coat.

“Not exactly pulling his toenails out, are you?” a deep voice boomed from behind.

Tearing her lips from Justin’s neck, Evelyn looked up. “Angel!” Mortification swamped her senses, and she rolled off Justin and fell onto the floor like a sack of potatoes. Her cheeks burned to cinder, and she could not find words to save her life.

“I guess you’ve decided what side Barclay plays on,” Angel said as he swept off his hat and rainwater dripped to the floor. His black cloak shimmered, wet, and his raven hair was matted down with damp. “I’m going to have something to eat. If you’d care to join me?” He strode out of the room, his boot heels clipping loudly on the floorboards.

“I didn’t hear him come in,” Justin supplied, sitting up and adjusting his coat. “Why am I suddenly glad for these many layers of English clothing?”

Fixing her dress as best as she could, Evelyn murmured, “Not exactly a hero’s welcome for Angel.” Guilt burrowed in her belly. While Angel had been out facing danger, she had been safe and dry, and cavorting with Justin.

She walked into the kitchen, unable to meet her dear friend’s eyes.

“Just so you know what you’re doing,” he commented to her, while he devoured the stew as if he had not eaten in days.

Shah stood over the stove, her back to them.

He tore off a hunk of bread. “I had no luck when lady love crossed swords with intrigue; perhaps you shall fare better.”

She did not know to what he was referring, but she replied defensively, “He’s mending well.”

“That is apparent.”

Sliding into the seat across from him, she pressed, “He answered all my questions and seems really committed to helping us.”