Far Too Tempted (37 page)

The room was warm enough and she had Alex’s coat draped over her shoulders, but Jessica shivered. “I am not still sure how this all happened.”

“My dear, that makes two of us.”

“I stabbed him.” She still remembered the telltale echo of pain from the horrible Frenchman who had held her so mercilessly.

“Bravo,” Marcus said in stout support, sprawled in a chair across from her. “In a strategic place, no less. Please tell me you don’t feel remorse, Jessica. The man is a despicable cohort to a deadly spy, and I believe they were about to abduct you.”

It was true, and she knew it. But she was still awash in a multitude of confusing feelings over the events of the past few days. She looked away, her throat working. “I don’t know. First I thought Jack killed Tolley, and then
she
killed Jack, then Tolley killed her…it was all so terrible.”

Dear Lord, she actually sniffled. Even during her frightening time with Jack Rivers she hadn’t cried. Now was the wrong time to start. It was over.

Marcus looked predictably distressed over any possible tears, and she would have found it amusing except she’d had a perfectly awful past few days.

“Quaffing brandy without me?” The even sound of Alex’s voice made her jump. “Is that at all ladylike, Jess? Marcus, what are you trying to do, corrupt my beautiful wife?”

Just the cadence of his tone and words had a magical effect. Marcus also looked very relieved at his younger brother’s arrival. “As I understand it, you corrupted her yourself before this. Jessica refused to go to bed without you. I’m merely fulfilling my proper role as guardian.” He got to his feet. “I trust the authorities now have what they need to know to settle things.”

“They know enough.”

The two of them exchanged looks.

It was all very cryptic and she wished she wasn’t too exhausted to care.

“Darling Jess, you should be asleep.” Alex loomed over her and bent down to scoop her up out of her chair without ceremony. “You’re spent, and no wonder.”

He had never been so right. The insistence to wait for him had been pure stubbornness. And, if she admitted it, born of a desire to see him, to have him hold her as he did now, with tender care against his chest.

Jessica laid her head on her husband’s shoulder as he took her up the stairs. “You have a lot of explaining to do,” she informed him with as much acerbic accusation as she could summon.

“Do I?” He also looked tired, but still a smile hovered around his mouth.

“Absolutely.”

“How about in the morning?”

“It
is
almost morning.” She yawned, his scent and strength enveloping her with a feeling of security that had been missing from her life for a long, long time.

“So it is.” He strode down a hallway, somehow selected the right door, and shouldered it open. “Very well, we can talk now. Shall we start with how I think you are the most resourceful, brave, stubborn, infuriating person I have ever known?”

Jessica’s eyes widened as he stalked over to deposit her on the bed. “You must be daft. I am not the one who immersed our lives in a drama of foreign spies and—”

Her husband braced his arms on either side of her body, his blue eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “Where did you get the knife?”

The one she’d stabbed Francois with. She still felt ill when she recalled that moment. “It was Tolley’s. When Jack attacked him, he dropped it.”

“And, naturally, you had the presence of mind to manage to pick it up.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Probably not. I haven’t your cool head. So…please, go on, what happened next. Somehow Jack is dead.”

Jessica nodded. “She killed him. It was…heartless. I have to admit, he pushed me away at the last moment, as if he knew what she was going to do.”

Alex looked away for a moment, his expression bleak. “At one time, he was a good man and a friend.”

“He didn’t hurt me.” Jessica reached up and touched her husband’s face in a tentative gesture of reassurance. “I can say that.”

“I was so damn worried.”

It was amazing, it was fabulous and magical and why she’d managed to stay awake as she waited for him to return, and she
believed
him. Her throat felt tight. “Please tell me again.”

His brow furrowed. “I was worried.”

“Not that.”

“Oh.” His smile was uncertain, lacking that usual facile charm. “I’ve heard women like to hear passionate declarations often. Forgive me if I’m new to this.”

“Feel free to practice now.”

“I love you, Jess.”

“That’s convenient, since I love you too.”

He didn’t say anything. But she could swear his eyes were more luminous, and when he bent his head to kiss her, the intensity of it took her breath away.

Epilogue

The evening was crisp and cool, heavy with the smell of autumn. A few stray leaves played across the manicured expanse of the vast lawn, tumbling like playful young kittens before coming to rest at the edge of the curving drive.

Whistling as he walked, Alexander Ramsey crossed the grass, heading for the stables, a feeling of anticipation curling in his stomach. The two new mares had arrived this morning, and according to the head groom, were settling in nicely. Together with the horses he’d purchased a month ago, his stable was coming along very well, and Marcus had been enthusiastic about acquiring a new stud they could share between their bloodstock.

Breeding sleek racers was at least a bit more exciting than farming. He just wasn’t born to be farmer.

Fresh with paint and repairs, hell, the stable
looked
prosperous, Alex thought in satisfaction as he unlatched the door and stepped inside. Cool stone rasped under his boots as he moved forward. The scent of hay filled the space and the darkness inside the barn was quiet and peaceful.

“Good evening, Colonel.”

Alex froze, his hand arrested in the act of shutting the door. For a heartbeat, he registered the sound of that dry, courteous voice before he pushed the door shut and turned slowly around. “Good evening, General.”

Wright stepped out from the depths of the shadows. Somewhere a horse nickered and shifted in his stall. In the dim light, the man Alex remembered from London was more angular than ever, more enigmatic and distant. His teeth gleamed pale in a smile. “Fancy meeting me here, eh, Ramsey?”

“Yes, sir. Fancy that.” Alex didn’t move, giving the other man a wary look.

Now what the devil was the man doing at Braidwood, skulking around the stables?

The general was dressed very plainly in unremarkable clothes: brown nondescript coat, dark breeches, a low hat pulled down on his forehead. He walked closer until he was a few feet away and chuckled. “So you’ve resigned your commission and become a country farmer, have you, Colonel? Fine horses, this lot.” One hand swept out to languidly wave at the neat stable and rows of stalls. “Not that I am any expert on the subject, but it all looks very businesslike.”

“It is, sir. I plan to raise horses. Fine racing stock with any luck.”

“Ah.” The general lifted his brows. “So I hear. Wellington wants you back, need I tell you that? He wants to hold Madrid and take Burgos. Then he’ll push on into France.”

Instantly shaking his head, Alex said with firm conviction, “Without me. I’ve responsibilities here. My wife is expecting a child, and I’ve just started this horse-breeding business. If you were sent to persuade me, sir—”

“No one sent me, Ramsey.”

“Oh?” Alex let one brow wing up. Whatever was the old devil was up to anyway, coming all the way to Berkshire himself, slinking around the barn instead of coming up to the house?

“Can’t think but this will all be a bit tame for you.” The general clucked his tongue against his teeth and glanced around. Standing there in the gloom he looked a little like a satyr, all sly smiles and cynical eyes. “Yes, very tame indeed. Tending to types of feed and split hooves and colic. No job for the man who brought down
El Diablo
.”

Incredulously, Alex laughed. “Did you not read my report, sir?”

“Oh yes, every page you submitted on the Committee murders. My superiors, well…can I say they were very impressed?”

Straightening a fraction, Alex felt his mouth twist in a grimace. “Then they must not have paid attention. I endeavored to be as honest as possible, though I admit it was a bit humiliating to do so.”

The general’s eyes glimmered. “How so?”

Alex paced over to the closest stall and looked inside. It was easier to explain to the placid mare inside munching her hay. He said haltingly, “Sir, please do not play the fool; you do it so poorly. I am not even sure where to start with how badly I handled the whole affair. Maybe by pointing out a third murder took place even after I was assigned to the case? I could mention how I blundered about, having no suspects, until I actually approached the
real
murderer and asked his assistance. It only gets worse after that.”

Steady and obviously amused, Wright leaned one shoulder against the door of an empty stall. “I’m aware of every detail, Ramsey.”

“If that is so, then why the bloody devil would anyone be pleased?”

The general seemed to casually examine the fingernails of one hand. “Shall I tell you how someone not so…let’s say, emotionally involved, sees this case? Don’t bother to answer, Ramsey, I intend to anyway.” He chuckled. “Let’s see. Well, to start with, there are no ironies in intelligence work. Learn that now and remember it. Tolley identified Eloise Rivers only because you had assigned him to follow Major Pickford. Secondly, O’Brien bears responsibility for letting down his guard with Rivers. He freely admits it and blames himself, not you. Tolley wasn’t seriously hurt, and danger is part of this business, the boy knows that. As for your wife’s kidnapping…well, I won’t lie to you, our families make us vulnerable, Ramsey. You’ll know better next time and take precautions.”

Alex stiffened, his hand hard on the wooden door of the stall. “Next time? Sir, I’m a civilian now—”

The interruption was smooth and relentless. “The bottom line is this ugly affair could not have ended better. The Committee is safe, the criminals who perpetrated the ghastly acts will not have to be brought forth publicly for a messy and potentially scandalous trial, and no one was killed except those who would have been executed anyway. And those papers retrieved from Jack’s desk, well, we’ve broken the code and they are pure gold, sir, pure gold. In short, well done, Colonel.”

Somewhat at a loss, Alex said, “Thank you.”

“All that being true, I wish to offer you a proposition.” The general lifted his bushy brows. “I want you to work for me. On…er…well, sticky little situations like the one you just handled. Not all the time, just as they come up. You should have plenty of time for mundane estate affairs and the coming child. You can have a more supervisory role, if you wish.”

The covert meeting, the smell of fresh straw, the older man dressed incongruously in his rough clothes, all of it seemed an odd mix of fantasy and reality. Alex cleared his throat. Wright, as ever, looked impassive, except for the potent energy of his gaze.

The wily old fox.

The bastard was right. How could he know the fear lingered somewhere deep inside that breeding horses would not be enough? He adored Jessica, was pleased over impending fatherhood, and at least the horses would give him something to do, but…Alex had been a soldier, and, he thought, a good one. A sense of adventure, of challenge, was in his blood, deep in his bones. And now he was being offered the opportunity to still serve his country. He was also being offered the flexibility to spend time with Jessica and Braidwood. It was, well, perfect.

Damn.

He smiled noncommittally. “Sounds interesting, sir.”

“Excellent, excellent.” Wright nodded, a mere dip of his head. “I’ll be in touch if anything…er…
interesting
comes up. In the meanwhile, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a nasty bit of trouble up north.” He rubbed his hands together and smiled in obvious anticipation. Then he melted back into the shadows. A minute later Alex heard the soft sound of hoof beats.

Alex was at the stables, Higgins had said so. Jessica hurried forward, holding up her skirts as she ran, breathless from her exertions. She wasn’t being the least ladylike, but then again, she wasn’t the least sorry either.

At the wide doors, she paused a moment and smoothed her hair. Once before, she recalled in a sudden rush of nostalgic memory, she’d run to the stables to find Alex. At the time he’d been her shining hero, a handsome golden god who slew dragons and rescued fair maidens. She’d been a naïve, lovesick little fool, she remembered ruefully, and her idealistic romantic dreams had been shattered because Alex had turned out, after all, to be just an ordinary man with typical human failings.

Once again, she was a lovesick fool, only this time it was
because
he was an ordinary man. A husband, a lover and soon to be a father. She’d seen him infuriated, exhausted, tender and a myriad of other things in between. And that awful day down at the docks in Bristol, she’d seen him terrified. Terrified of losing her. Offering his own life in exchange for hers. What man, ordinary or hero, could do more than that?