Napoleon's Woman (11 page)

Aidan listened from the darkened sitting room as Lord Elkin left the study.

He had to admit with reluctant admiration that the lady was very good at her profession. She had handled the amorous lord with ease and was at this very moment conducting a methodic search of the man’s study.

Aidan had already searched the study and removed any sensitive documents, replacing them with false papers he had prepared before his arrival. If he wanted to identify her contacts, he needed bait, but not at the expense of the men on the peninsula.

He smiled to himself, allowing her a few moments’ privacy before pushing the adjoining door wide on oiled hinges. The lady’s back was turned as she concentrated on the materials in the mahogany desk, so she did not hear him enter. He leaned a shoulder to the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Find anything?"

Lady Rivenhall spun around with a swish of silk. Her green eyes reflected her surprise, and he noted with more than a little satisfaction that she gripped the edge of the desk for support.

And when she made no other movements, he asked, "No knife today, Lady Rivenhall? But I suppose that would have been somewhat difficult to explain when Lord Elkin was lifting your skirts."

She raised her chin. "Quite true, my lord, but at present I would give anything to have brought my dagger with me."

Her composure irritated, him and Aidan felt an overwhelming need to discomfit her. He held her gaze, pushing off the doorframe and stalking toward her.

"Did you find anything of interest, Lady Rivenhall?" He repeated as he stepped closer. She leaned back, and he saw her shiver, whether from fear or a chill he could not say.

"No," she breathed.

Aidan decided to convince the treacherous woman that any documents she found were vital to the success of the British war effort. And, to be truthful, he was rather keen on seeing those lace drawers.

"You will forgive me if I doubt that you have come away empty-handed." He stopped a yard from the desk and looked down at the captivating lady. "Take off your gown." But when she held his eyes and made no move to comply, Aidan said evenly, "You may remove your gown." He raised a brow "or I will do it for you."

Lady Rivenhall glanced at the locked door, and he could see her quick mind working through her alternatives. And when she came to the inevitable conclusion that there was no means of escape, her pale eyes returned to his and he felt a grim triumph pulse through him.

Her hands fell to the laces of her luxurious gown, and Aidan could feel his anticipation building as each golden tie gave. He searched for a distraction and an explanation for his unconscionable desire for this woman.

"Very nicely done with the pistol, by the way. Got Elkin out in a hurry, and yet you say you found nothing to interest France? I must confess, I’m disappointed."

Her fair head snapped up and she glared at him. But the lady said nothing and continued unlacing her gown, stepping out of it and tossing it at him when she had finished.

Her nipples hardened against her abbreviated chemise, and he tried desperately not to notice as he searched the silk gown. He shoved his hand in the hip pockets, and just when he thought she had not found the documents he had hidden, his hand grasped the stiff brocade panel of her bodice.

Clever.

He feigned ignorance and tossed the gown across the desk. He could now prove her treachery, but Aidan also realized that there would be someone waiting to receive the counterfeit documents. Someone, who if he exposed her, would go undetected.

He stared at her, his decision made.

"Now your petticoats," he whispered.

The lady untied the layers of silk, resentment burning in her eyes. She stepped out of them and lifted the yards of fabric in his direction. He swallowed before taking them, and on a shaky breath said, "Your chemise."

Lady Rivenhall faltered but complied, and Aidan stood in awe as he stared at the most magnificent body he had ever seen. She was perfect, and stood within reach in nothing more than lace drawers and matching garters that held stockings to long, shapely legs.

Aidan reached out and cupped her breast, unable to stop himself. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw in a futile attempt to restrain his desire. She fit perfectly in his hand, and he seized her in a gentle caress.

His other hand slid around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. He could feel the heat of her through his shirt and his hands fell to her flawless backside. He grabbed her, enjoying the feel of the lace drawers that provided provocative glimpses of creamy, white skin.

"These drawers are
French
I presume?" he asked, the lace sliding as he moved it over her silky curves. However, when she did not answer he leaned back and made the mistake of looking into her pale eyes. He saw in them a vulnerability that belied her bravado.

He should have felt nothing, no compassion, no need to ease her distress, but he did. He felt an overwhelming desire to kiss her fear away and make love to her on the study floor.

I must be going mad
.

"Get dressed," he said, disgusted with himself.

Aidan turned his back on the woman and ran both hands through his dark hair, thinking that if the little traitor cracked his skull open it would serve him bloody right.

***

The Earl of Wessex was feeling far less charitable the following morning.

He watched as Lady Rivenhall took a turn with Lord Elkin while he himself was stuck strolling the garden with two eligible young ladies on either arm. Unfortunately, returning from Albuera a war hero had incited every matchmaking mama to push her daughter in his direction. Aidan sighed to himself when the young chit to his left pressed her plump breast firmly against forearm.

"The gardens are quite extensive, are they not, my lord?"

"Quite," he said with a polite nod.

The brunette found it necessary to add to the conversation. "What of your gardens in Wessex, my lord?"

But he hesitated in answering when Lord Elkin’s butler spoke with his employer then led the man out of the gardens and toward the house. Lady Rivenhall smiled radiantly as she accepted the man’s apologies for leaving her, and then sat down on the nearest bench apparently intending to await his return.

"My mother was rather fond of roses," Aidan offered absently. "If you will excuse me." He bowed and left the two girls to their chatter. The gravel crunched beneath his black Hessians as he made his way to Lady Rivenhall’s side.

"Lady Rivenhall, would you care to stroll?" he asked loud enough for other guests to hear, making it impossible for the woman to deny him.

She rose from the stone bench on which she had been seated, her smile contradicting the anger in her eyes. "I would be
delighted
, my lord."

He offered her his support, and she curled her elegant hand around his forearm. Images of those hands roaming over his body flashed before him, and Aidan forced himself to remember who, and what, she was.

They walked a while longer before he finally said, "I’m surprised that you enjoy
English
gardens."

She stiffened. "I am quite found of the English countryside, Lord Wessex. My father and I spent our summers with my uncle at his estate in Suffolk."

"And what of your mother?"

"She died when I was but three."

"Pray tell, my lady, is your father a traitor as well, or are you the only member of your family led to betray your uncle and your country?"

"My father…" she began with such ferocity that he was taken aback. She closed her mouth, finding her composure. "My motivations are my own, my lord."

For some inexplicable reason her acerbic answer infuriated him.

"I beg to differ, Lady Rivenhall. When Englishmen die by your hand, your motives concern us all." He took a steadying breath and forced his jaw to relax before continuing. "Which brings me to the point of the charming promenade."

The enigmatic woman stared at some spot on the horizon as they continued toward the larger fountain. Her hair sparkled in the afternoon sun, and he could scarcely turn away from her extraordinary features.

"Lord Elkin is a close friend of mine, and I will not allow him to me used. When he asks you to his bed, and we both know that he will, you will refuse him."

Lady Rivenhall’s eyes burned with anger when she halted on the gravel path and turned to look up at him. "I shall bed whom I wish, when I wish, Lord Wessex. And rest assured that you will not be consulted on the matter."

"Lord Elkin--"

"Lord Elkin has no information that is of interest to me, as you
well
know. So if I choose to bed him, it will be entirely based upon my attraction to the man himself."

"And I thought you were attracted to short men with aspirations of conquering the world."

Lady Rivenhall took his arm, and they turned back toward the house. "Well, I do admire a man that sets goals for himself. However," she added with a bright smile. "As of late, I find myself attracted to tall men with muscular bodies and piercing blue eyes."

Aidan glanced in the direction she had now focused and cursed as Lord Elkin walked back to the garden with a determined stride.

"John is not to be toyed with," he warned.

"Let us allow John to determine if he wishes to become my plaything." Lady Rivenhall’s eyes slid to his. "And if you have proof that I am a traitor, then by all means turn me over to Whitehall. Otherwise, leave me to my amusements."

"You forget, I do have proof, Lady Rivenhall," he whispered as he bit into her arm with his fingers. "You interrogated me at Albuera, if you will recall."

The lady batted her eyelashes and said with feigned innocence, "The Earl of Wessex was injured at Albuera, which is no doubt the cause of his confusion. I can assure you, my lord, that I have never left England. I can’t imagine why he would be saying such things, except perhaps that I refused his advances." She looked away. "I can be very convincing, Lord Wessex, particularly, if men are conducting my interrogation."

Aidan rocked back on his heels, unbalanced by shock. He watched her adjust her sky blue day gown and then look up to greet John Elkin.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Lady Rivenhall."

"Do not concern yourself, my lord. Lord Wessex has been quite amusing in your absence." She held Aidan’s eyes before turning them on their host as if she adored him.

"Has he?" John asked with hostility dancing in his ‘piercing blue eyes’. "Well if you will excuse us, Wessex. I believe I shall show Lady Rivenhall the river."

"Not at all," Aidan mumbled, unable to conger a reason that would prevent his friend from leaving with the lethal Lady Rivenhall.

***

Celeste’s heart was thundering in her ears as they started for the water. She could feel the Earl of Wessex staring after her as surely as she felt the sun warming her face.

She glanced back over her left shoulder and saw him standing in the middle of the gravel path. His green eyes blazing beneath black brows and his alluring lips had all but disappeared beneath his anger. His fists were clenched to the sides of his graceful legs, and she could see his chest rising and falling beneath his cerulean jacket.

Celeste shuddered, drawing Lord Elkin’s attention. "Are you cold, my dear? Shall I retrieve your cloak?"

"No," she said, turning her gaze and her attention toward her escort. "I just had a bit of a chill."

Lord Elkin glanced over his shoulder. "Has Wessex said something to upset you, Celeste?"

She laughed a bit too brightly. "No, of course not."

"It just seems as though you have a…history with Lord Wessex?"

It was a question.

He was asking if they had been lovers. If she had spread her thighs while the Earl of Wessex lay naked atop her, pressing her into the bed. No, he was not her lover. He had merely kissed her and caressed her breast, branding her with his hands and his lips.

Celeste flushed and told the truth. "Yes, John. Lord Wessex and I have a history, but not the sort you imagine. Our encounters have been brief and somewhat hostile in nature, as I am sure you have noted."

They reached the river, and Lord Elkin pulled her against a tree and out of sight of his other guests. His forehead furrowed and his cobalt eyes locked with hers.

"He has not made advances toward you?"

Images of the previous night flashed in her mind; the earl’s capable hands grasping her backside, her breast, his masculine scent filling her mind as he leaned over her.

"No," she said, but she had hesitated too long. She could see Lord Elkin’s jaw pulsing with jealousy, and she hastened to appease him. "The earl’s attentions are by no means romantic, my lord." Her smile was seductive when she added, "You are the only man here that holds the slightest bit of interest for me."

His eyes drifted from hers to her breasts and then to her lips.

"Good," he said, kissing her and pulling her into a possessive embrace. Lord Elkin kissed her long and hard and then his lips settled just below her ear. "I spent half the night aching for you, Celeste, and when I finally succumbed to sleep, I dreamt of making love to you."