Authors: Adrienne Basso
Intimate Betrayal (28 page)
“What about the guest list?”
“Which one?” Alyssa asked, shuffling through her papers again. “Grandmother has given me two separate lists. Those who will be issued an invitation to the ball, and those who will also be spending the night.” Alyssa handed Morgan a stack of papers.
He read through the lists, making several notations. “Tell Grandmother and Burke to assign the bedchambers. I will instruct Jason to assist Mrs. Glyndon in addressing all the invitations. And put Caroline in charge of the decorations. Anything else?”
Alyssa sighed with relief. “That is an excellent start. I must confess, I never realized it would be so complicated.”
“You are sure it is not too much?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Alyssa replied. She remained silent for several moments, and then said brightly, “You know, this will be my very first ball, Morgan.”
He looked startled for a second, and then pulled Alyssa to her feet. He put his arms around her waist and squeezed her against him. “I shall be deeply honored to escort you, my lady.”
She kissed his neck and snuggled against him. “I just want you to be proud of me, Morgan,” she whispered, a slight edge of doubt in her voice.
“I have always been proud of you, love,” he told her firmly, clasping her more tightly to him.
He felt her move her head against his shoulder, and then she stiffened noticeably in his arms. He looked down, his eyes following her line of vision to the papers on the desk.
“Would you care to explain to me, Your Grace,” Alyssa said as she struggled to escape his arms, “why you have added Madeline Duponce and her brother, Henri, to the guest list?”
Morgan refused to release her, holding her tighter, lightly stroking her back, and trying to formulate his response.
“I am waiting,” Alyssa remarked coldly.
“They attended the ball last year,” Morgan said, his voice vague. This time he allowed Alyssa to remove herself from his arms. She stood back from him and tilted her chin defiantly.
“Not good enough,” she stated succinctly. “You must know I created this year’s list starting with those guests invited last year. Obviously I removed the Duponces.”
“They must attend,” Morgan said in a flat tone.
Alyssa’s eyes widened, but she did not back down. “I see they are also invited to spend the night. Why?”
“They must attend,” Morgan repeated, refusing to meet his wife’s eyes.
“No,” Alyssa blurted out, folding her arms across her chest.
Morgan turned to her with a chilling stare, disapproval marring his handsome features. “I am the master of this house, madam. You will do as I say.”
Alyssa did not draw back, refusing to be intimidated. “I am not your servant, sir. I am your wife. And mistress of this house. I refuse to have that woman in my home unless you can provide a reasonable explanation for it.”
Morgan’s expression of severity changed to one of resignation as he accepted defeat. Alyssa was correct. She did have the right to know his reasons.
“Sit down, Alyssa,” Morgan instructed. “I have much to tell you.” He began his tale with his first meeting with Lord Castlereagh and ended with his plans to trap the Falcon on the night of the ball.
Alyssa said nothing while Morgan spoke, her mind absorbing all the incredible details. “You don’t actually believe Tristan is involved in any of this?” Alyssa asked when Morgan had finished.
He shook his head. “Of course not.”
“Will it be safe here at Ramsgate? For Katherine? And Grandmother?”
“Yes. I have already added several extra guards, and plan on increasing their numbers on the night of the ball.”
“I must confess, Morgan, I find it all very . . .”
“Unbelievable?” he supplied. “I share your feelings, my dear.”
“Are you sure that neither of the Duponces is the Falcon?”
“I am not completely certain, but I do believe they are merely accomplices. It is impossible for them to have removed all the various papers I planted. They simply did not have the opportunity.”
“What about the servants?”
“No,” Morgan insisted. “Again there was not access to both my residences, not to mention the papers at Westgate Manor.”
Alyssa sat up sharply, understanding dawning. “So that’s what those important papers in the library desk were. French spies at Westgate,” she mused; shaking her head. “I suppose we owe the Falcon a debt of gratitude.”
“How on earth did you reach that bizarre conclusion, madam?”
“If you did not have to search for the hidden documents in the old desk, you never would have returned to Westgate Manor. In a way, the Falcon is responsible for our marriage.”
Morgan gave a snort of laughter. “I shall be sure to inform him of that interesting fact when we finally meet.”
“Are you sure your plan will work?” Alyssa asked, realizing Morgan had left unanswered her question about the Falcon’s identity. Clearly he had a suspect in mind.
“I have great faith in this trap. The bait I will leave will be too irresistible for the Falcon to ignore. Besides, if my suspicions are correct, the Falcon will already be here at the castle. It will merely be a case of catching him in the act.”
Alyssa met his eyes squarely, her expression grave. “Whom do you suspect, Morgan?”
“Gilbert Grantham, Caroline’s brother,” he responded heavily. “I hate to brand any man traitor, but I know how enamored Gilbert is with Madeline Duponce. Men have been known to do foolish things in the name of love.”
“My God,” Alyssa said, her voice low. “Poor Caroline and Priscilla. They speak so fondly of their brother.”
“I have yet to prove my theory. And there is one other possibility, although it is almost too ridiculous to entertain,” he muttered to himself. Gathering Alyssa into his arms Morgan stated firmly, “You are not to worry about this, Alyssa. I will take care of everything.”
“I trust you, Morgan,” she replied quietly. “If there is anything I can do to help you . . . ?”
“No,” Morgan insisted, his voice stern. “I will not have you exposed to any danger. You must promise me that you will not interfere.”
“I will do as you request, Morgan,” Alyssa said, avoiding his eyes. She had no intention of staying out of things if she saw Morgan in trouble. “But you will be careful, won’t you?”
“Of course,” he answered automatically. He leaned down and began kissing her. “I think you have been working too hard on this party, love.”
“Oh, do you now?” Alyssa laughed throatily. Morgan tenderly nibbled her ear.
“As your husband I would be remiss in my duties if I did not insist you put the preparations for the ball aside for a time,” Morgan said. Running his fingers lightly down her waist and over her hips he sighed. “I believe a bit of bed rest is in order.”
“If you join me in the bed, Your Grace,” she teased, “I shall never get any rest.”
“Afterward, my love. Afterward.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Three weeks later Alyssa stood next to Morgan, her face expressionless, as she was introduced to Caroline’s family. The Granthams arrived at Ramsgate Castle early on the morning of the ball, accompanied by Tristan and Caroline. Lady Grantham, a small, stout woman, gushed endlessly over Alyssa, congratulating her on both her marriage and the birth of Katherine, while Baron Grantham, Caroline’s father, merely grumbled his salutation and began an earnest conversation with Morgan about horses.
Priscilla greeted Alyssa as if they were old friends, and then introduced her brother, Gilbert. Alyssa forced a friendly smile, trying to picture the pleasant young man as a notorious French spy. She could not.
Alyssa excused herself from the group to attend to the many last-minute entertaining details. The dowager duchess immediately offered her assistance and they left the drawing room together.
“I thought I would scream like a madwoman if I had to listen to any more of Lady Grantham’s mindless chatter,” the dowager duchess exclaimed. “Thank goodness you rescued me.”
Alyssa smiled fondly at the dowager duchess. “You might change your opinion and decide to run screaming from me,” Alyssa informed the dowager with a laugh. “I intend to put you to work.”
“Fine,” the older woman readily agreed. “I will do anything you wish, and gladly, as long as I don’t have to entertain the Granthams.”
“We shall assign Tristan the task of amusing his in-laws,” Alyssa decided. “I’ll also ask him and Caroline to greet any other early arriving guests so I won’t be constantly interrupted today. Will you please check the music selections so I can give the musicians their final instructions later this evening?”
Alyssa sorted through the various papers on her writing table, handing the dowager duchess the list of musical selections. “Anything else?” the dowager duchess inquired as she began reading the paper.
Alyssa paused a moment before answering. “I cannot think of anything, yet I know I will have dozens of questions the minute you leave.”
“Don’t worry so much, Alyssa,” the dowager duchess insisted. She reached out and patted the younger woman’s shoulder. I know everything will be perfect tonight. If you have further need of me I shall be in the nursery with Katherine.” She leaned over and gave Alyssa a small kiss on the cheek for encouragement before leaving the room.
The remainder of the day passed in a blur for Alyssa as she constantly checked and rechecked all the arrangements. She knew she was being overbearing when Burke suggested for the third time she needed to rest before the ball and, finally taking his hint, she retreated to her bedchamber.
While Alyssa was waiting for the tub to be filled for her bath, Morgan walked into the room carrying a plate of food.
“I brought you a light respite,” Morgan explained, munching on a handful of grapes. “I strongly suspect you have been far too busy to eat a proper meal.”
“Thank you, Morgan,” Alyssa said gratefully, biting into a hunk of cheddar cheese. “I have been busy and too on edge today to eat very much.” They ate the food in companionable silence, watching the two young footmen fill Alyssa’s bathtub with hot water.
“I’ll assist the duchess with her bath, Janet,” Morgan told the maid who was hovering expectantly near the waiting bathwater.
Alyssa gave Morgan a stern look. “It will take me hours to complete my bath if you help me, Morgan,” she told her grinning husband. “Today of all days I do not have time to dawdle.”
Morgan feigned a wounded expression and popped the last piece of dried fruit into his mouth. “I was under the impression you appreciated my talents as a lady’s maid, madam.”
“Oh, Morgan.” Alyssa sighed. “Please stop. I am far too nervous to cope with your teasing.” She turned her back to him. “Now help me off with my dress before the water grows cold.”
He deliberately waited until she was comfortably settled in the tub before making his next statement. “The Duponces have arrived.”
“Have they?” Alyssa responded in high voice. She played fitfully with the chunk of lavender-scented soap. “I assume they are comfortably settled in their rooms?”
“I suppose,” Morgan answered with indifference. “I had Burke show them to their chambers. I made certain they are sleeping in a separate wing from the Granthams. It will make it more challenging for them to remain in contact with the Falcon.”
Alyssa shook her head. “I still find this all very difficult to believe,” she said. “Are you sure about all of this? Gilbert seems to be a decent sort of man.”
“Men are not often what they appear to be, Alyssa,” he responded lightly.
“Neither are women,” she muttered under her breath, and then flashed him a winning smile. “Please send Janet in to help me wash my hair, Morgan. It is getting late and I need time to get ready for this evening so I can properly dazzle our guests.”
“I am the only one you need to impress, love,” he said in a quiet voice. “And you have already done that to perfection.”
She felt her waning confidence soar at his remark. “Thank you, Morgan,” she whispered. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. She gave him a sweet, gentle kiss, but Morgan demanded more. He could feel her breasts rubbing enticingly against his chest, dampening his shirt, and it aroused his passions. He thrust his tongue forcefully into her mouth, giving her a hot, hard kiss.
Alyssa finally broke away from him, her breath raspy, grateful she was sitting down because her knees felt weak with desire. Morgan’s smoldering gaze caught and held her deep green eyes. Slowly, tantalizingly, he stood on his feet and began taking off his clothes. Alyssa finally found her voice after he had thrown his shirt on the floor and was making short work of his boots.
“Morgan, please,” she murmured, not certain if she was pleading with him to cease or hurry. Naked, his taut, muscular body hardened with desire, he reached down into the tub and scooped her out of the water. Alyssa clung to his neck as he whispered words of erotic longing in her ear. He placed her slippery, wet body on the thick rug before the fireplace, his hands stroking her hips and thighs, igniting her desires to a fever pitch. He teased her with his hands and tongue until she arched herself against him, pleading silently with him to release her from the burning agony.
Morgan positioned himself above her and thrust into her in one powerful motion, and she welcomed him, tightening her muscles as the climax immediately claimed her. He continued to pump against her, seeking his own fulfillment, and she wantonly encouraged him, stroking his back, biting his shoulder, whispering the titillating words of lovemaking he had taught her, until he found his own release.
Morgan collapsed on top of her, exhausted but totally contented. He felt Alyssa shiver and realized she was still wet from her bath. He reluctantly left her, pulling down the warm towel on the rack in front of the fire to dry her.
“You realize, of course, my hair is as tangled as a rat’s nest,” she said with mild reproach in her voice.
“I think you look utterly charming, my dear,” he answered, grinning. “And totally sated.”
“Stop looking so smug, Morgan,” she continued in the same tone. “I shall have to take another bath, and since my water is now cold, fresh water will have to be heated. It will most likely delay your washing.”
Morgan smiled at her. “But I already instructed Dickinson to see to my bathwater. I suspect the servants are filling a tub in my chamber as we speak.”
“Perfect. Clearly the only fair solution to this dilemma is my joining you in your bath, Your Grace,” Alyssa declared, standing up and adjusting her towel.
Morgan leered at her, a seductive grin on his handsome face. “You are such a practical woman, Alyssa. I do believe it is one of the reasons I love you so much.”
Comte Henri Duponce opened the door soundlessly and slipped quietly into the bedchamber, effectively startling its occupant.
“God’s blood,” a voice from the shadows muttered. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“I need to finalize the instructions for our plans this evening,” Henri explained. “That is unless you have changed your mind, Falcon?”
“You should have waited for me to contact you, idiot,” the Falcon hissed. “What if someone had seen you come into my bedchamber?”
Henri shrugged his shoulders. “No one did,” he replied. He strolled casually across the room and draped himself in a chair before the fire. “You should not be so concerned about your reputation, cheri.”
The Falcon whirled on Henri, resisting the impulse to strike him. “I have not come this far, my dear Comte Duponce, to be compromised by the likes of you. This mission is far too important to risk having our secrets uncovered by your carelessness.”
Henri smiled lazily at the Falcon. “You realize, of course, the duke could be setting a trap for us.”
The Falcon gave Henri a bland stare. “Naturally I have considered the possibility. In fact I do believe I shall be disappointed if Morgan does not attempt to catch us this evening. I know the duke thinks he is very clever, but he has been unsuccessful in all of his previous attempts at discovering my identity. Besides, the prize he dangles before us is too great to neglect.”
“Yes,” Henri agreed, rubbing his hands together greedily. “I imagine Wellington’s specifications for a spring campaign will bring a large price.”
“You must exercise great caution tonight,” the Falcon insisted. “If by some chance we are discovered, we must make good our escape.”
“Have all the arrangements been made?” Henri asked.
“Yes,” the Falcon responded. “There will be a boat waiting for us on the beach if it becomes necessary. I expect Madeline to act her part perfectly tonight. It is imperative she keep Morgan occupied tonight. I still do not think he suspects I am a spy, but he will have his guard up.”
“Don’t worry about Madeline,” Henri said. “She knows very well how to pique a man’s interest. But what about the new duchess? Will she not demand her husband’s attention?”
“The duchess will be too busy playing hostess to concern herself with her husband. She might become jealous of Madeline’s monopolizing Morgan’s time, but Alyssa will not make a scene. It is not in her nature.”
“You seem very certain,” Henri said lightly.
“I am,” the Falcon insisted in a commanding tone. “But it is a smart idea for you to keep a watch on the duchess. I will hold you responsible if she tries to interfere.” Henri nodded in understanding. “Now get out of here. And for God’s sake, make sure no one sees you.
A noticeable hush descended over the crush of guests in the enormous ballroom as Morgan led Alyssa out to the middle of the dance floor. She had finally succeeded in conquering her nerves as the last of the introductions to her numerous guests ended. Yet as every eye in the crowded room turned toward them, Alyssa felt her insides begin to churn.
Morgan, regally composed and arrogant, looked down at his radiant wife possessively. She had greeted their guests with elegance and dignity, but as she stood with him now, he could feel her nervousness. He took her into his arms and waited. Alyssa gripped Morgan’s hand tightly and placed her hand upon his shoulder, precisely the way he had instructed. She kept her gaze focused intently on the gold buttons of his black evening jacket, mentally reviewing the steps of the dance as she waited for the music to begin.
The silence continued. She raised her head and looked up into Morgan’s eyes, the tranquil expression on her face revealing none of her inner panic. “Why aren’t the musicians playing?” she whispered frantically.
A smile tugged at Morgan’s lips, and he met her gaze with mischief in his eyes. “They are waiting for my signal, love.”
Alyssa wanted to throttle him, but she dared not express her exasperation with so many people watching their slightest movement. “Morgan, will you please give your signal before I faint from nerves?” she said through her teeth, her mouth frozen in an unreal smile.
“Have patience, madam,” Morgan retorted. “I want to savor this moment as I am held here, spellbound by my stunningly beautiful wife.”
Alyssa seriously contemplated kicking him in the shin at that moment, but as she read the sincere admiration in his eyes, her ire, along with her nerves, melted. Taking a deep breath, she dazzled him with a brilliant smile and announced, “I am ready now, Morgan.”
He pulled her even closer, and then the music started and they were moving and twirling around the room. Alyssa heard several audible gasps, but she could not be sure if it was because of how scandalously close Morgan held her, or because they had opened the ball with a waltz.
It was the dowager duchess’s suggestion that the dancing begin with the controversial waltz: she insisted it would be a clever idea to give the gossips something juicy to focus their disapproval on, instead of commenting on Morgan’s very sudden marriage and Katherine’s almost immediate birth after that marriage.
Alyssa was glad she had agreed. While she had never been formally taught the many intricate steps of the more traditional dances, the steps of the waltz were fairly simple to master. She glided effortlessly along the floor, thoroughly enjoying the feel of being held in Morgan’s arms. He danced, as he did most things, with unconscious grace and style, and she was content to merely follow his expert lead.
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