“What else did Shira say?” Deep intrigue pulsed within her. She would dearly love to meet this foreseer.
“She issued a grave warning, one I’d best not share as yet. When the time comes, I shall though. For now, I would like you to use my given name. Please, call me Anteros, if that is not being too forward of me to ask?”
“Very forward, but these are unusual circumstances, so yes, I shall call you Anteros, provided you call me Sophia.” Goodness, they hadn’t been introduced formally and now they’d invited each other to use their given names. Mama would be shocked at her behavior, although Mama had also said just this morning that one couldn’t live their life in fear, which she intended to take directly to heart.
She walked with Anteros into yet another side room toward a new display, one showcasing a lifelike series of large sculptures, one ironically of Anteros, the Greek god of love and passion. Wings sprouted from the statue’s back, a cloth draped over the sculpture’s shoulder and around his lower body, his chest exposed and muscles flexed as he held a bow with an arrow on the verge of being released. Another couple admired the statue, their heads bent together as they spoke in low tones. “It appears there is another Anteros in the room,” she whispered to Anteros.
“Yes, which is a clear sign that you and I are where we should currently be.”
“How did you come by the name Anteros?”
“My mother had a huge fascination for all things Roman and Greek, particularly surrounding the gods.” He glanced over the top of her head, one brow lifting as Olivia wandered into the room, her sister searching for her.
She waved out and Olivia hurried across.
Under his breath, Anteros murmured, “Ah, bello. My angel has fire in her eyes and purpose in her stride. Sophia, I beg of you an introduction.”
Olivia halted before them, worry clear to see in her eyes. “Is everything all right, Sophia? Sawyer informed me that someone might be detaining you.”
“Not detaining,” she corrected. “I’ve been enjoying a delightful conversation with—well—Olivia, allow me to introduce you to Captain Anteros Bourbon. Captain, this is my younger sister, Lady Olivia Trentbury.”
The captain removed his hat and tucked it under one arm, his black hair shimmering a vibrant blue on the ends, the color an exact match to his blue eyes. “Piacere. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Olivia.” Bourbon lifted her sister’s gloved hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “This is a meeting I have both longed for and feared.”
“Bourbon? As in the man my sister has spoken of, the spymaster aiding the Earl of Donnelly in his investigations?”
“Yes, that is exactly who I am.”
“Oh, well, it is a pleasure to meet you. A surprise, but still a pleasure.” Olivia stepped closer to Bourbon, her voice hushed so it didn’t travel any farther than the three of them. “Have you made any progress with your investigations?”
“I have, and will continue to do so.” Bourbon’s voice became a low drawl and Olivia stared at her hand still in his and dropped it quickly to her side.
“My apologies. Pardon me.” Olivia pinched her lips together.
“You are pardoned.” A teasing smile from the captain as he stuck his hat back on his head and straightened to his towering height. “Ladies, I do believe luncheon is being served in the tearoom. Would you allow me to escort you both there?”
Since Sophia wished to learn more about Donnelly’s mysterious spymaster, she nodded enthusiastically. “Kind sir, we’d be honored.”
“Wonderful.” He extended crooked elbows to both her and Olivia. “Except the honor is all mine. I can assure you of that.”
Chapter 7
That night as a thick fog settled over his house, Donnelly strode back and forth under the front eaves as he awaited Maria’s return from the museum, his chest tight as wispy streaks of mist swirled all about. Ten o’clock. Maria should have been home hours ago. They’d agreed to eat at eight and she’d never been late to a meal in the past. Perhaps he shouldn’t have allowed her to leave the house, or at least not for the entire day, and why hadn’t Sawyer sent word to him if they’d been delayed for some reason?
The clatter of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels finally broke the stillness and he bounded down the front pathway as Winterly’s coach appeared out of the misty darkness. The conveyance rocked to a stop and Sawyer, cloaked head to toe in black, bounded down from next to the driver.
“All is well, my lord.” Sawyer set the step on the ground and opened the door. “We suffered not one broken wheel, but unfortunately two. Ten dratted minutes apart as well.”
“Maria?” He held out a hand as his sister appeared at the carriage door. As soon as she set her fingers in his, he smothered his sister in his arms, her dark cloak swaying from her shoulders. “I’ve been incredibly worried.”
“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t send word about our delay, not when the ladies and I had to wait for the coachman to effect repairs and Sawyer wished to remain with me. I then insisted they be dropped off first since we had to pass right by Blackgale House and Winterly’s town residence on our way here.” Eyes bright, she kissed his cheek. “I’ve had a wonderful day and wish to tell you all about it. Have you eaten?”
“No, but we shall once we’re inside.” He closed the door and called out to the liveried driver, “Take care as you return. The fog is thick.”
“I shall, my lord.” The driver bobbed his head and cracked his whip.
Winterly’s coach rattled back into the soupy mist, the fog swallowing it whole.
He offered Maria his arm and guided her into the house.
“I’ll freshen up and be with you shortly.” With a twiddle of her fingers, she hurried up the stairs.
As she disappeared around the corner of the upper landing, he faced Sawyer who remained standing at attention next to the front door. “I’d like a full report.”
“Lady Maria toured most of the museum and enjoyed herself immensely. She and the other ladies even took luncheon together in the tearoom overlooking the rear gardens of Montagu House. I do need to inform you though that a gentleman joined them for the midday meal.” His man cleared his throat, a frown furrowing his brow. “Captain Bourbon.”
Shock pulsed through him. None of the ladies had met Bourbon, of which an introduction would have been needed. Certainly, Ellie, as the Duchess of Ashten, would have been considered a suitable chaperone for the other three younger ladies, but still, a fierce need to protect their reputations throbbed through him. “Continue,” he muttered.
“The captain remained with the ladies for the entire afternoon before stationing another man to maintain a guard over them when he left, very discreetly of course. The ladies weren’t aware, although I noticed the man immediately. I had a word with him, Giovani, the captain’s right-hand man, who I’ve actually spoken to when passing your messages along to Bourbon at his gaming hell.”
“Interesting.” After his meeting with Bourbon at his warehouse, the spymaster had traveled to the museum and sought out Sophia. He had no desire to bring Sophia any further into his current investigations, which he’d have to make clear to Bourbon. He nodded at Sawyer. “I’ll sort everything out. For now, I want you to rest for a couple of hours, then take over from Rignor at the docks. Report back to me if anything of interest arises.”
He’d had a man positioned on watch near his warehouses since his return a week past. Nothing unusual had been noted, but maintaining observant eyes and ears along the docks was all important.
“Of course, my lord.” Sawyer dipped his head and closed the front door behind him as he left.
“Oh, I’m absolutely famished.” Maria descended the stairs in fresh clothes, a dark skirt and white blouse, her veil removed and her brown locks released from her chignon and now bouncing down her back. She swished in beside him, linked her arm with his and beamed. “You look famished as well.”
“I’m starved, but more so for your company than anything else.” He le
d his sister into the dining room, seated her then took his place at the head of the table. Candles glowed from the chandelier overhead, the table set with sparkling cutlery and glasses. The servants set their meals before them, filled their wine glasses then quietly left the room. Once gone, he raised his glass to his sister. “To museums and dear friends.”
“Yes, to museums and dear friends.” After a clink of her glass to his, she sipped her wine. “Did Sawyer mention that Captain Bourbon joined us for luncheon?”
“He did.”
“Goodness, but he’s such an interesting man. I did wonder if I would ever get the chance to meet your spymaster. I’m glad I have.”
“How did he introduce himself?”
“Oh, ah, when I met him, he’d already spoken at length to Sophia and she introduced him to Olivia then Ellie and me. I can only surmise he’d already met Sophia.” She cut into her roast beef and gravy. “Mmm, delicious,” she murmured around a mouthful then continued, “Did you know that the captain has traveled extensively throughout the Americas?”
“Where exactly did he say he’d been?” His sister might have actually learnt more about Bourbon today than he had. He chewed his meat, intent on hearing everything.
“He spoke of Jamaica where Uncle John is stationed.” She forked roasted parsnips and carrots glistening with butter. “He told us some rousing stories.”
“Do tell.” He ate another bite as she broke into a smile.
“One story in particular which had us all captivated was when he was at sea on his ship. He discovered a vessel flying France’s colors approaching him at full speed, and when he trained his telescope on the ship, not one Frenchman stood on board. Instead pirates had taken the French warship over. The pirates then fired their cannons at Bourbon’s ship, and he decided his best course of action was to attempt to fool them. He trimmed the sails and allowed the blackguards to toss their grappling hooks over the side of his vessel, then when the pirates boarded, his men attacked and successfully brought the scoundrels to their knees.”
“That sounds like a winning battle indeed.”
“Yes, and Bourbon commandeered the stolen warship for himself and added it to his own fleet. We cheered at that news. The less ships Napoleon has at sea, the better, and Bourbon admitted that he’d gotten quite adept at seizing Napoleon’s ships when they strayed too close to his own.”
“Well, provided he’s intent on capturing warships from France, he’ll remain a friend of mine.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Maria bubbled with excitement. “I thoroughly enjoyed viewing all the exhibits today, as well as having the company of the ladies and their spirited conversation. I’ve missed being among my dear friends.”
“You certainly look happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.” He owed Sophia his immense thanks for bringing back the wide smile on his sister’s face. Gently, he cupped Maria’s cheek, his heart squeezing tight. “You’re returning to the world, and it does my heart good to see.”
“You look happier today as well, worried of course when I first rode in, but more yourself this morning at the breakfast table, and tonight while we’ve been eating.”
“I am making leeway in my investigations, moving ahead one step at a time.”
“That is good news.” She stifled a yawn. “Oh, my apologies, the day is catching up on me. How was your search of Father’s office at the warehouse?”
“Ashten and I perused every single burgundy ledger which Mr. Taylor gave Father these past seven years. Nothing seemed amiss, although I spoke to Bourbon at the warehouse before he joined you at the museum. He has recovered one of the artifacts from the chest, the jade mask, which was a match to the drawing Sophia uncovered in the library. He’s making good progress in his investigations.”
“That’s wonderful to hear.” She patted her mouth, a yawn this time escaping.
“You’re clearly exhausted. Retire for the night if you wish. We can speak again in the morning when we break our fast.”
“I’m certainly tired.” Setting her napkin on the table and positioning her cutlery on her plate so the staff would know she was done, she rose and hugged him tight. “Good night, my dear brother. I love you.”
“As I love you.” He didn’t wish to release her, but grudgingly he did. “Rest well.”
“I certainly shall. Rest well yourself.” She swished from the room.
He wouldn’t be able to, not when he had so many questions rolling around in his head. What had Sophia and Bourbon chatted about? He also wished to ascertain she was well. He couldn’t imagine the spymaster distressing her in any way, but he would check on her all the same.
He left the table, collected his greatcoat and hat from his butler then slipped outside and joined Parker in the stables. At his request, his groomsman readied his stallion for him and once he had, he mounted and rode hard through the dark, foggy streets toward Sophia’s home.
Slowing his horse and trotting in behind thick bushes bordering Winterly’s townhouse, he remained hidden atop his mount. The lights along the lower floor blinked out one by one, and he searched the upper level and counted the windows until he reached Sophia’s bedchamber. A gentle light lit her closed red-gold drapes. The hour was exceedingly late, too late to knock upon their front door.
He’d knock upon her window instead.
A quick dismount.
He looped the reins of his horse to the low branch of the nearby oak tree, scooped a few fallen acorns from the grass and snuck through the thick foliage around the side of the house. As he did, he made certain no one else lurked about, then once assured he was alone, halted underneath her window. A swing as he lobbed an acorn at her window. Tap. Another acorn. Tap.
All remained quiet above.
No, he wouldn’t be deterred.
Three more acorns. Tap, tap, tap.
Her drapes swayed, and she lifted her window with nary a noise.
She stuck her head out and frowned at him, her golden locks loose and mussed about her shoulders. “Good grief is that you, James?”
“Yes, indeed it is.” He kept his voice low, one finger to his mouth. “Shh, I don’t want to wake anyone.”
“What on earth are you doing here in the middle of the night?” she whispered in a mad rush then gasped, one hand clutched to her chest. “Is Maria all right?”
“Yes, she’s fine. She also thoroughly enjoyed her day with you and your sisters. I wish to thank you,” he whispered back, “for entertaining her as you did.”
“There’s no need to thank me.” An annoyed huff. “She’s my friend. I would do anything for her, for you too if you allowed it.”
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect.” He pointed around the other side of the house. “I want you to sneak downstairs to the side door. I’ll meet you at the servants’ entrance.”
“Pardon?” Her mouth formed a perfect O.
“You heard me.”
“I did, but—no, never mind. Give me two minutes.” She disappeared, her curtains swishing back together.
A grin slashed his face and he sent a quick prayer skyward that she was indeed sneaking downstairs this very instant to see him.
Keeping to the shadows of the house, he crept to the side door where household deliveries were made and waited on the doorstep.
Less than two minutes later, the door opened and Sophia stood there in her ivory nightgown with her bare toes peeking out from under the hem, her cheeks flushed and blue eyes bright.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears, his need to hold her now raging strongly through him. This might have been a bad idea, asking her to let him in, but he wouldn’t back down now. He needed to know what she and Bourbon had discussed, or at least that’s what he’d told himself countless times on his ride here. He stepped inside and closed the door. “Lead the way to your bedchamber.”
Without a word, she caught his hand and tugged him through the kitchen then up the darkened servants’ stairwell. At th
e bend in the stairs, they passed a single lamp burning in a wall sconce behind a glass casing. Onward, she hurried and at the top, tightened her grip on his hand and rushed along the upper landing. In her room, she released his fingers, closed the door with barely a snick and leaned back against it. “Right, you are now here, in my bedchamber, as requested. I can’t believe you came to see me.”
“I had no choice.” A log burned in her fireplace, the flames casting a flickering glow over the sheer golden canopy sweeping around her four-poster bed, her bedcovers all rumpled and Marco Polo’s book open on her nightstand.
“Something dire must have happened for you to ask me to sneak you inside, but I’m afraid to ask what it might be.” She stuck her thumb in her mouth and nibbled adoringly on the end, her gaze searching his. “You’re certain Maria is all right?”
“Yes, and I came because I’m worried about you.” He curled one hand around her waist and—hell, she had such soft curves under the thin ivory cotton. He groaned, bliss pulsing through him, his cock hardening and breeches tightening. “I needed to assure myself you were well. Maria told me about Captain Bourbon joining you at the museum. What exactly did he speak to you about?”
She stood unmoving, silent and watchful.
“Sophia?” He was so physically aware of her, of how each of her breaths made her nightgown cling more deliciously to her breasts. Gently, he pressed a kiss to her temple and her breath whooshed out. He was dangerously tempted to tip her head back and steal a deeply passionate kiss from her, to plunder her mouth and never let her go. Instead, he remained right where he was, breathing far too raggedly. “What did you and Bourbon discuss?”
“We spoke of many things, that the chest actually belongs to the Portuguese House of Braganza, and—” Her brow puckered. “Well, as strange as it may sound, a foreseer told him he would one day meet me, that I’d need his aid. She instructed him to keep me close.”
The Earl's Bride Page 8
