Secrets of Lady Lucy

by Rachel Ann Smith

  “He left against direct orders.”

  “Whose orders? Orders from the Home Office?”

  “You know we are not to discuss such matters, Devonton. I was to inform you of your orders. Remain in England. Wed Lady Lucy. Beget an heir.”

  Those were his orders? It was fortunate they aligned with his own immediate plans. Plans that not only included marrying Lucy but also identifying and exposing the individuals behind his kidnapping. He would not rest until he gained justice.

  The store sign above his head read Rutherford Jewelers. The lettering was elaborate, but what caught his eye was the intricate angel that sat in the hook of the J. Where had he seen a similar design? The tinkle of the bell alerted Mr. Rutherford of his entrance.

  “Lord Devonton, may I introduce myself? I am the proprietor, Mr. Rutherford. How may I assist you today?”

  Blake had perfect recall of features. He had never laid eyes on Mr. Rutherford prior—how was it he knew who Blake was?

  The man answered as if Blake had voiced his thoughts. “Your papa and I played many a hand of whist together, and he was a frequent customer of mine. You share his features, but you have your mama’s eyes.” Mr. Rutherford chuckled as he continued, “As soon as a high-quality emerald was delivered, your papa would snap it up.”

  Blake retrieved the item from his breast pocket and placed it in the jeweler’s hand. “I’ll need it to be cleaned, sized, and ready by this evening.”

  Mr. Rutherford held the ring as if it was one of the crown jewels. “An extremely rare diamond. Not large in size, but it is of exquisite quality. Your mama would have been delighted to know it was not lost and the future Countess Devonton will honor family tradition. Who, might I ask, is the lucky lady?”

  “Lady Lucille Stanford.”

  “Ahh… Harrington’s sister. She is a remarkable woman.”

  How was it that Lucy would be acquainted with Mr. Rutherford? There was much to learn about his Lucy. Were her activities limited to decoding for the Home Office?

  The reflection of a string of moonstones caught Blake’s eye. Mr. Rutherford retrieved it removed it from the display. “A wonderful bride’s gift, Lord Devonton. Just like your papa. He always had a keen eye for beauty. Your items will be ready upon your return.”

  Blake left the jeweler with his senses on full alert. He peered up at the sign once more. The plaque in front of the Home Office, the haberdashery, and the snuff shop he had seen Archbroke enter on occasion—they all displayed a variation of an angel and a harp. What was the connection?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Lucy ran her finger along the book spines. The Home Office library was her favorite room.

  She jumped as Archbroke said, “Lady Lucy. I’m glad to see you. I assume your mission was successful?”

  The man had the uncanny ability to walk into a room without detection.

  Her pulse was still accelerated as she answered, “Lord Archbroke, do not even pretend it was your idea to send me.” The man might play the dandy when among society, but he was the heart and mind of the Home Office.

  “It is evident not one member of your family follows my orders.” His lordship was pacing and mumbling in contrast to his usual direct manner. “I am not at all happy about your brother defying my orders.”

  Matthew had disobeyed a direct order? “I thought you were the one who gave him the order to hunt Addington down.”

  “You thought wrong. Upon hearing of Devonton’s disappearance, I gave the order for your brother to remain in England. Then I was informed he was in Dover and you had commandeered a ship to cross the Channel.” Archbroke stopped pacing and faced Lucy. “Did you just say hunt Addington?”

  “Yes. In the package of messages you had me work on, I found missives from both Blake’s kidnappers and the Foreign Office. It is the reason why it took me such an exorbitant amount of time to decipher, for they were a jumbled mess. I had assumed Matthew informed you…”

  The Home Secretary exploded, “What Foreign Office missives?”

  Not wanting to increase his distress, Lucy quickly answered, “The ones that indicated that Lord Addington was involved in Blake’s abduction.”

  Brow furrowed, Archbroke began to pace again. “Addington? Explain why your brother would fail to inform me of this information.” He stood right in front of her and took a deep breath, then asked, “When did you start referring to Devonton as Blake?”

  “Since the day I agreed to marry the man.”

  Ignoring her tart reply, Archbroke’s cool, clear blue eyes bore into her. “I’ll ask you once more, why did Harrington not share this information with me?”

  Lucy was not about to let the man intimidate her. Returning his steady gaze, she stated, “Archbroke, I have no idea. And as I said earlier, I assumed he had informed you.”

  Why had Matthew decided not to report her findings to Archbroke? The missives had been intercepted by Archbroke’s team. But the communication belonged to the Foreign Office and involved their agents. Who had Matthew provided the information to?

  Archbroke continued to bluster, “I’m going to have Harrington’s head. By God, if I speak to…”

  To who? Who was the head of the Foreign Office? For years Lucy had tried to figure out who it could be. Would Archbroke finally share the confidential information with her? If Blake was a Foreign Office agent, would he confide in her once they were married? Would their positions in their respective offices result in discord between them? She needed Blake to confirm his association, and soon.

  Hands held tightly behind his back, Archbroke paced until he stopped and announced, “I have no choice. I’m going to send Mr. Smyth to fetch your brother home.”

  What? Archbroke was a stickler for rules. Sending a Home Office agent to foreign soil was a direct breach of protocol. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve yet to lose an agent, and I’m not about to now.” Archbroke’s hands were balled into fists as he walked out of the library.

  Lose? Was Matthew’s life in danger? What did Archbroke know that she didn’t? He was like a steel trap, and it would be an utter waste of time and energy to try to pry information from the man unless he willingly provided it. She refused to run after him. Archbroke was not her only source of information. She would seek answers elsewhere.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Twisting the ring around and around on his little finger, Blake contemplated how best to propose to Lucy. When do you want to marry? An offer like that would not warrant an answer, especially not from Lucy. It was not romantic enough. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Tried and true, but boring. He wanted to make his proposal memorable. He wiped his palm down his thigh. What he needed was a drink. No, he wanted Lucy. He bounded up the steps to Harrington’s town house.

  The door opened as he approached. Lucy was on her way out. Where was she headed to? Wasn’t she exhausted from their trip? He was. His only source of energy spurring his feet to move was the anticipation of her formally agreeing to be his wife.

  “Blake, what are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to pay you a visit. Are you heading out? May I accompany you?”

  “Oh, I thought you were here to collect your belongings.”

  Blake took a half step back, frowning. “Why would you think that? Am I no longer welcome?”

  Lucy walked up to him and pulled him back into the foyer. She gave Kirkland a look, and with that, the butler closed the front door and promptly removed himself from the area.

  Blake’s lapels were being crushed in her attempt to pull him closer. She gave him a quick peck before she pulled back and patted him on the chest. “No, silly. It would not be proper for my fiancé to be living under the same roof until we are married. You wouldn’t want to cause a scandal or ruin my reputation now, would you?”

  Blake loved this playful side of Lucy. She gave him a cheeky grin and linked her hands behind his neck. It was Edward who descended the stairs and caught them in the embrace.

>   “Eeeewww. Lucy, what is going on? Are you and Lord Devonton going to kiss? Shouldn’t that be done in private?” Edward had apparently picked up Matthew’s habit of rapidly issuing one question after another.

  Lucy took a step back, but Blake did not fully release her. He kept his hands securely on her waist. It was a possessive gesture, but he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

  She turned to face Edward. “Why are you not studying with Mr. Trenton?”

  “It’s his afternoon off.” Edward leaned to the right a little to speak to Blake. “Lord Devonton, I’m glad to see you both have returned. Where is Matthew?”

  “Lord Edward, it is indeed good to see you again. I believe your brother has left for the Continent to visit some friends.”

  “Matthew is always off visiting friends. I hope to make friends like him when I go to Eton.”

  Blake left Lucy and went to put an arm around Edward. “You will meet boys your age, and I’m sure you will make a friend or two that you can depend on like I depend on your brother.”

  Hope glittered in Edward’s lonely eyes. “Do you really believe that could happen?”

  “I haven’t a doubt. You are the smartest, most honorable eight-year-old I know. Anyone who dislikes you is an utter fool.” Blake gave him a hug and then said, “Excuse us, my lord. I need to speak to your sister in private for a moment.”

  “Not a problem. I certainly do not want to see you kissing her.” Edward ran back up the stairs and out of sight.

  Lucy suggested, “Shall we retire to the drawing room?”

  She said drawing room, not a bedroom—he really needed to get some sleep. The thought of rest and beds had his imagination running wild. He took Lucy’s hand and led her to the drawing room.

  Why did Blake need to speak to Lucy in private? As they entered the drawing room, he gently pulled her inside and locked the door. Why had he locked the door? Had he gained information regarding Matthew’s whereabouts?

  Blake took a step closer and gently put his hands on her shoulders. He searched her eyes. What was he looking for? Did he know of her errand?

  He leaned in and placed his lips on hers. Only the need for air caused the kiss to cease.

  “Lucy, I cannot begin to describe the feelings you have instilled in my heart.” He dropped to one knee, and took her left hand in both of his. “Lucy, I will love you with all my being, now and always. I promise to always assist you, in every way I can. Will you grant me the pleasure of having you as my wife?”

  The depth of his sincerity and love was evident in his deep emerald eyes. His words were exactly those she needed to hear. A knot formed in her throat and her eyes began to water. She smiled and nodded.

  Blake slowly slid the most beautiful ring on her finger. She bent down and whispered in Blake’s ear, “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you. I cannot wait to be yours.”

  She stumbled as he pulled her down. She found herself on her knees with him. Unhesitatingly, she placed her hands on his cheeks and brought his face down to hers. Lucy kissed him gently at first, just as he had taught her, but soon she was grazing her teeth along his jaw. Blake let out a deep growl; she had learned he loved her boldness.

  He gently eased her to the rug. He lay next to her on his side, and she turned to face him. His hand caressed her hip down her leg and back around to squeeze her bottom. Lucy gave him a wicked smile and began to undo the buttons on his jacket and vest. As soon as it was possible, Blake was divested of both garments, and he went to work on Lucy’s buttons and laces. Within minutes, she found Blake had managed to remove her dress and stays, leaving her only in a chemise.

  Lucy wanted to touch Blake, and he let her hands explore. She ran her hands from his waist up to his chest under his shirt. She enjoyed feeling his muscles twitch as her palms caressed his chest. She even dared to circle and flick his nipple. Lucy loved the way his body responded to her touch, and the sense of power she had over this man was heady.

  His muscles tensed and then he leaned back, putting a little distance between them. “We should wait until we are wed and in a bed.”

  “When did you start rhyming? I don’t want to wait. I want you now. Please, Blake. Please make me yours.”

  His stare was so intense. Lucy wanted him. They were alone and would not be interrupted. Why was he hesitating? She was on the verge of standing when Blake moved to pull up the hem of her chemise. She placed a hand on his to stop him from drawing her garment over her head.

  “Lucy, I want to see you. I’ve imagined the sight of your lovely body, and my hands have felt your beautiful curves, but I want to see you, all of you.”

  His memory was faultless. Once he laid his eyes on her, the image would be burned into his memory. Would he mind her rounded stomach? She was not lithe. If he was to see her, she should be afforded the same.

  “Blake, I…” Lucy wasn’t sure how to formulate her desire. Instead, she sat up and pulled him into a sitting position. She reached out to remove his shirt. He did not balk, but he stiffened as if to brace himself from some sort of blow. With his shirt off, Lucy saw the multitude of scars that adorned his chest, arms, shoulders, and back. Her heart ached at the sight of the marks. She lightly traced the white lines and gently pushed him to lie on his back. She straddled him and began kissing the crisscross of white lines on his chest and abdomen.

  Her movements had caused her chemise to shift higher. Blake’s warm hands rubbed up and down her thighs. She would not be distracted from her own ministrations. It became harder and harder for her to focus as his hands roamed to her waist and then up under her chemise to cup her breasts. He began to fondle and squeeze her breasts; he flicked her nipples, and she immediately felt a pull in her core. She leaned a little farther so she could kiss him thoroughly on the mouth, and as she was raised slightly, he was able to pull her chemise over her head, which broke their kiss.

  He sought out her gaze. “Lucy, are you sure you want to do this before the wedding?”

  She didn’t reply; she simply began to kiss him again. Blake moved under her, pushing up with his hips, which forced her to place her hands just above his shoulders to regain her balance. In this position, Blake’s mouth was now in line with her breasts. He raised his head, and devilishly his tongue darted out. He licked one of her nipples and then brought her breast to his mouth and began to gently suck. With each pull of his lips, the dampness between her legs continued to build. He acted as if he enjoyed having her in his mouth, and then a moan escaped her lips. Blake continued to lavish her breasts. Her moans were becoming more frequent and louder. She didn’t want him to stop. She bucked when his finger ran along her slit. When she began to rock against his hand, Blake moved with lightning speed, and their positions reversed.

  She lay on the floor with him between her legs. What was to happen next? He hurriedly pushed his smalls and breeches down, and his shaft sprung free. Wide-eyed, she peeked up at him. Blake’s physique was impressive. She had thought the Elgin Marbles extraordinary when she had viewed them, but the male form was far better in real life.

  Blake reached between them and guided himself to her entrance. The pressure of his tip as it slid along her slit felt glorious. But when he pushed a little farther, her fears of his size arose again. He hesitated. Was he worried too?

  Taking matters into her own hands, she quickly pushed her hips up, accommodating all of him. He was long and thick. A sharp pinch caused her to gasp. Her immediate reaction was to retreat, but he had moved to kiss her breasts again. She was so focused on that pleasure she forgot about the pain.

  Blake continued to move in and out of her, driving a little deeper each time. He bent her legs at the knees and pushed them closer to her chest. She found the new position more pleasurable, and she relaxed, letting her knees fall more to the side that allowed him deeper access. Lucy could feel him increase even more as he proceeded to intensify the pace and depth of his thrusts.

  Soon there was no pain, no burning, just pure ecstasy as tension coiled in h
er belly, and then all her nerves exploded with the most wonderful sensation. Her senses were slowly returning when Blake began to pump more vigorously, and when he released a low growl, she matched his movement, increasing the friction until a warmth flooded her.

  Both of their breathing was labored, and Blake rested his forehead on hers for a moment. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

  Sated and lethargic, she stared back and smiled. “I’m well.”

  He rolled off her and used his handkerchief to gently clean between her legs. His hand smoothly glided over her apex, her nerves still alive and tingling.

  She stilled his hand. “Blake. I want… I love you. I want you again.”

  His gaze searched hers. He rolled and leaned over to give Lucy a kiss. His tongue mimicked his earlier movements, and then he pulled back. “Not right away, my sweet, you will be sore.”

  She frowned and gave him a serious look. “Then when?”

  “Soon,” Blake answered.

  With him half on top of her, she ran her hands down his back. “How soon?” Her hands continued to roam his body, which immediately responded to her touch. Lucy peeked down and with a wicked grin said, “Hmm. Now?”

  “Love, I’ll never be able to deny you.” He placed his hand at her center and pinched the sensitive bud. She gasped. She pulled him down for a kiss, but before she released him, she lightly bit his lower lip as he had done to her once before.

  Desire flared in his eyes. Lucy could not wait for him to teach her all the ways to evoke that response from him.

  “You will be sore later.”

  “Will you?”

  All she allowed him to say was “Minx” before reaching for him.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Blake took in Lucy’s exhausted and relaxed form. He loved the feel of her in his arms. “You never told me where you were headed earlier.”