Seducing Eden

by Allison Lane

  “What does it say?” demanded Eden the moment the boy left.

  “Montagu wants the stone.”

  “Where do we meet him?” demanded Jeremy.

  “We don’t. He designated a place to leave the stone, but he won’t be there. He signed the note Oakdale.”

  “A mistake,” said Eden. “Oakdale is dead.”

  “Another death?” squeaked Jeremy.

  “Old age and a long illness. Oakdale has nothing to do with this. Percy borrowed his name, just as he borrowed Sir Harold’s. But this means he’s out of touch with recent events. If he doesn’t know of Oakdale’s death, I doubt he knows that Jasper survived.”

  “Why is he openly pretending to be Oakdale?” Eden frowned. “He must know he can’t get away with it.”

  “I don’t care why,” snapped Jeremy.

  “You should care,” said Alex. “Unless we understand Montagu, our mistakes could hurt Olivia.” He paced the room, trying to think his way into Percy’s head. “He has sought the Sarsos relics for more than twenty years,” he said at last. “Obsessions turn to madness in that time. But he retains enough sense to cover his tracks. Using Oakdale’s name hides his own identity. Oakdale is one of the few peerages with no connection to the Montagues. And it makes us waste time by following bogus clues – or so he believes.”

  “There may also be a touch of vengeance in his choice,” said Jeremy. “Percy once tried to talk Oakdale into backing his claim that his grandfather is the true Duke of Travers – or so a classmate told me; his mother is Oakdale’s niece. Oakdale refused, sending Percy away with a flea in his ear.”

  “Oakdale is lucky Percy didn’t retaliate by burning the house down around his ears.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” said Alex. “He believed you had the stone, so he can’t have meant to kill you that night. He probably hoped to snatch you in the confusion so he could force you to reveal its location. Just as his attacks in London were aimed at your companions. Success would have left you vulnerable.”

  “What are you talking about?” demanded Jeremy.

  Alex explained.

  “Interesting, but that doesn’t help find Olivia.” Jeremy put his head in his hands. “We need to figure out where he took her.”

  “Does knowing his identity reduce or enhance Olivia’s danger?” asked Eden, suddenly serious.

  “Neither, because Percy doesn’t know we know,” said Alex. He wouldn’t remind them that the only way Percy could cover his tracks was to kill Olivia. He could only pray the man had not already done so. The delay in sending the note might cover a burial, and Percy’s history was hardly reassuring. “He wants Mrs. Marlow to bring the stone to Derby,” he said to deflect their minds from Olivia’s danger.

  Jeremy frowned. “Why Derby?”

  Alex stared at the list of properties. “Perhaps because Mrs. Marlow has no acquaintances there who could help her. More likely because he has a safe place to stay – he will not be at the King’s Arms.”

  “He’s barely giving me time to drive there,” said Eden. “The roads are terrible, and it’s all of thirty miles. I must pack. Even if I leave at first light, I will be hard-pressed to arrive before mid-afternoon. I can use your carriage, can’t I?”

  “We’ll ride, but we’re not leaving until we know where to go.” He glanced toward Eden. “Is the food ready?”

  She nodded.

  “Then change clothes. A habit will do for now, preferably an old one, and you’ll need a servant’s cloak and gown.” He pulled out the Derbyshire map and studied the list.

  By the time Eden returned, he had it – he hoped.

  “Here,” he said, pointing to an estate two miles from Derby. “Foley Manor belongs to his mother’s cousin.”

  “Is that where Olivia is?” asked Eden.

  “I doubt it, but I think Percy is there. Only he can tell us where Olivia is. Order three horses. Your turn to change, Highbottom. You look like a dandy. We don’t want to draw notice.”

  He put the lad in Tweed’s capable hands while he readied himself.

  * * * *

  “How can we not be noticed?” demanded Jeremy two hours later as they entered Derbyshire.

  They had ridden hard, changing mounts every few miles, grateful that the night was clear and the moon full. Alex had noted Jeremy’s shock when he’d produced his silver greyhound, the badge of the king’s messengers that assured they got the speediest service and fastest mounts at every stop. He’d neglected to turn it in when he’d resigned.

  But they did not go unnoticed.

  “He won’t be watching the posting houses,” explained Alex, pushing his latest mount to a canter. “When we get closer, we will be more careful.”

  “I would never have believed we could move so fast,” admitted Eden.

  “Nor will Percy. He will expect you to drive straight to the King’s Arms. He will hope that you arrive by noon, but will not grow worried until nearly sunset.”

  “You mean we are not going there?”

  “No. Olivia is not there. Nor is Montagu. At best, a servant will be there, but whoever he sends will know only that he is to exchange a letter for a package. If Montagu tells him anything, it will be that the letter contains payment for the package. The servant will not give up hope until well after dark, no matter what his orders – few servants will admit failure, for it usually costs them dearly. Not until he reports that the package did not arrive will Percy act. So we have until sunset to find him. Probably longer.”

  Half an hour later, he left the turnpike. “Now we must be careful,” he said, following a stream until they were out of sight of the road. They dismounted to stretch stiff muscles. “I am a merchant,” he announced, changing his voice, accent, and demeanor as he reversed his cloak. He’d donned a suitable coat before leaving Ridley.

  Eden stared. “I’ll never get used to how you can suddenly look like a someone completely different.”

  He shrugged. “You are my wife. It’s a role I know you can play,” he added, for she’d demonstrated it that night at the inn. “We are not rich.”

  Eden nodded. “Do you prefer vulgar or unobtrusive?”

  “Unobtrusive.” He rearranged his hair and replaced his hat with a cap.

  “My dressmaker, then,” murmured Eden. “She can shrink into the background and nearly disappear.” Donning a vacant expression and clutching her hands before her, she moved hesitantly across the clearing.

  “Excellent,” said Alex. “You just learned that your mother is dying. Scrape your hair back and knot it at the neck. As for you,” he said, turning to Jeremy. “You are my servant.” He had already dressed Jeremy in clothing borrowed from Eden’s groom.

  “Servant?”

  “Why else would you be traveling with us?” Alex demanded sharply. “A lowly merchant does not have a valet. You are a man of all work, the only male on our tiny staff. Remember to be subservient. Never look your superiors in the eye. Shuffle your feet when anyone addresses you. And keep that cap on. If anyone spots your hair, you will be revealed. Servants don’t favor the Brutus.”

  “Where are we going?” asked Eden.

  “The inn at Foley Village. We are headed for Lancashire and traveled far into the night, hoping to reach your mother’s bedside in time to bid her farewell. But you are exhausted and must sleep before we can continue. You are to say nothing, understand? You are grief-stricken, for her illness came on without warning. As for you,” he added to Jeremy. “Your name is Jem and you are too tired to talk. If you try, you will give the game away and probably harm Olivia. Grunt if anyone requires an answer.”

  “What about you?” demanded Jeremy.

  “I must discover whether Percy is at Foley.” One of Travers’s grandchildren owned a house ten miles further on. Percy might have gone there, though it didn’t seem likely as he’d cut most of his Montagu cousins. He should feel safe at Foley, for no one would look for a thief and killer in so noble an establishment.

&nbs
p; Alex entered the village at a walk, letting his horse’s head sag so any watchers would see three exhausted travelers.

  The inn was tiny, with only one room available. The innkeeper apologized, volunteering that Foley Manor was celebrating the imminent nuptials of the owner’s daughter. Not only Foley, but all neighboring estates were crammed with revelers. Many servants were at area inns. Only the departure of Foley’s solicitor had left him with a vacancy.

  “Damn,” Alex muttered when he closed the bedroom door. Jeremy could only play his part by bedding down in the stable.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “With so many strangers about, no one will have noticed Percy, though at least it adds credence to his being here.”

  “But surely he cannot have Olivia here!”

  “No. He could never hide her from such a crowd.” He didn’t mention that the house party increased the likelihood that Olivia was already dead. Eden wasn’t up to hearing that fear. Nor was Jeremy. All he could do was pray that Percy valued Olivia as a bargaining chip and would not dispose of her until he had the stone.

  “How will we ever find her?” she asked bleakly. Tears trembled on her lashes.

  “Don’t lose hope, Eden.” He hugged her close. “We can only move one step at a time. At dawn I will talk to the Foley grooms. They will know if Percy is here and how often he rides out – he must make sure that Olivia does not escape.”

  “Won’t they tell him of your inquiries?”

  “Why would they? With guests quartered at several estates, it will seem natural that one of Percy’s cousins joins him on a morning ride.”

  “What if Percy is one of those quartered at another estate?”

  It was a good question. One he hadn’t considered – which proved how weary he was. And how nervous. Percy had to have arrived late, possibly without warning. He could not have known in advance when his abduction plot would succeed.

  Alex fought the paralyzing fear. He’d made so many mistakes. If another cost Eden her sister, she would hate him for all eternity. And he could not protest. But he had to keep her spirits up by pretending certainty.

  “In that event I will profess confusion and ask if anyone knows where he is staying.” He stroked her back. “Relax, Eden. There is nothing you can do right now except sleep.”

  “My mind will never allow sleep,” she admitted. “There is too much to fear – and to ponder. I still cannot accept that Jeremy wants Olivia. How can I believe him? John swore he was destitute.”

  He sat down, pulling her into his lap as if she were a frightened child – this was not the time to press his suit. Taking advantage of her terror would be reprehensible. “I can discover the truth easily enough, my dear, though his explanation makes sense. He exaggerated his interest in antiquities to explain his frequent visits. But he doesn’t want to own artifacts, so whenever John mentioned an item for sale, he claimed it was too dear for his purse.”

  “He could have told the truth.”

  “At nineteen, when Olivia was barely fourteen? You would not have accepted his love and would have barred the door to his return.”

  “Perhaps.” She didn’t sound happy.

  “Relax, Eden. Unless you rest, you will be useless tomorrow.”

  He massaged the back of her neck, loosening the knots in her muscles.

  She sighed, sliding her arms around his waist. Even that tiny motion ignited fire in his loins.

  Her arms tightened.

  “Don’t,” he murmured. “I’ll not be accused of taking advantage of your fears.”

  “You wouldn’t.” She framed his face between her hands. “Make love with me, Alex. In every way you know how. I am terrified for Olivia, and that will only get worse if I must lie alone in that bed. Relax me. Soothe me. Wear me out until I must sleep whether I will or no.”

  “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

  “Can’t you see how badly I need you?” she demanded, touching the nipples that pressed hard against her gown. “I cannot wait to touch you again.” She rubbed one thigh against his hardening shaft.

  “Eden,” he breathed. “My heaven on earth.” His mouth took hers.

  Even before their tongues had mated fully, she was pushing his coat down his arms. He stood, maintaining the kiss as he shucked off coat and waistcoat, then attacked her ties.

  She tugged open his pantaloons, shoving them down so she could clasp him.

  “Easy,” he choked, flinging garments aside in a frenzy that belied his own words. “I want to savor you. All of you. And I want you to savor me.”

  “Every way I can,” she vowed. “Make me forget for an hour, Alex.”

  “All night, love.” He laid her on the bed, drinking in her nakedness.

  She shuddered, then reached for him. “Don’t stand there, Alex. Those smoldering looks are wonderful, but I need your touch.”

  As did he. Trying to leash his need so he could savor her as she’d demanded, he slowly joined her on the bed, hardly noticing that it sagged into a mass of lumps beneath his weight. “Since you’ll be boneless by morning, I’d best enjoy them now.”

  He explored her collar bone with his tongue. Then her arms. Her fingers. Her spine.

  There were times when seduction needed coaxing and gentle persuasion. This wasn’t one of them. She shook as he moved to her toes, and he shook with her. His erotic words aroused her until the room was rank with passion, the very air pulsing against them. When his breath feathered over her inner thigh, she nearly climaxed.

  Carefully skirting her most sensitive places, he moved back to her mouth, plunging inside to savor her sweetness.

  She sucked him deeper, nails ripping his back as her tongue fenced with a violence that astounded him. But when he reached down to cup her, she shoved him onto his back.

  “My turn,” she panted. “If I’m to be boneless, you must be, too.”

  “I already am.” But his voice turned to a groan as her teeth scraped across his chest.

  “Ah, you like that, I see.” Her purring promised torture beyond his wildest dreams.

  Eden spread her fingers, reveling in the feel of rippling muscles and nipples that tightened into flat buds at a touch. He was everything she’d expected – and more, for beyond his perfect form lurked evidence of the sacrifices he’d made for the crown.

  “Not everyone you’ve met has been kind, I see,” she murmured, tracing silvery scars that could only have come from knives.

  “Ugly.” He reached to pull her away. “I shouldn’t have undr—“

  “Never ugly. They are marks of honor.” Batting his hands aside, she bent to kiss them, her tongue tracing each one.

  He shook, moaning, as she shifted her attention to other spots. A patch on one shoulder where he’d been burned. Two ridges left by shots. A maze of small marks she couldn’t identify.

  “You’ve a beautiful body,” she breathed, refusing to flinch when she discovered a slice that had nearly pierced his groin. “Gloriously masculine. Remarkably alive. And you like to be kissed.” She skirted the groin itself, unwilling to drive him to completion too quickly.

  But her own desire was growing so urgent, she could not prolong this much longer…

  Alex fought for control, a difficult job when she was so clearly enjoying herself. No one had looked on his collection of scars with aught but shock for so long that he’d forgot what it was like to have an honestly enthusiastic bed partner. But Eden had never flinched from his imperfections, so he was determined to endure until she’d had her fill – provided he lived that long. His heart was pounding so hard that if it didn’t explode, it would likely stop from exhaustion.

  She stroked every inch of him, whispering touches alternating with teeth and nails until he lost all sense of time. His shaft strained for release, but she barely touched it, instead finding sensitive spots even he hadn’t known existed. But when a bite on the side of his neck nearly brought him to completion, he broke.

  “Now!” he choked, rolling her beneath him,
her swollen breasts brushing his chest.

  “Yes!”

  He plunged.

  Ah, the relief. The tightness. The moist heat closing around him.

  “So big,” she moaned even as her legs hooked around his hips, pulling him deeper.

  He froze.

  “Don’t stop, Alex. I’ve never felt anything so exciting – stretching – filling—” She pulled his mouth to hers. “You make me forget I’m a lady.”

  “You’re a perfect lady,” he panted.

  “I’m wanton.”

  “Perfect,” he managed before his last coherent thought whirled away in a cloud of need.

  She rose to meet each stroke, beyond beautiful as she urged him on with hands and voice, sharing her joy, her lust, her need for more in broken cries and earthy commands. He answered in groans, no longer capable of words. It was all he could do to hold on until a final stroke pushed her to climax. Only then did he follow, shattering into a million fragments as he let her milk him of every last drop.

  “How did you hide such passion from John?” he asked some time later, so drained he voiced a question too personal to ask.

  “I didn’t. I never knew it was there until I met you.”

  He rolled to his side, amusing himself by playing lightly with her breasts while he considered her response. “Never?”

  She smiled. “I told you I’m no lady, Alex. You turn me quite wanton.”

  “Enjoyment of intimacy has nothing to do with breeding, my dear.” He kissed her lightly. “It’s a gift from the gods that you should respect and nurture as you would the most precious flower.” He grinned. “I will be happy to help you tend it.”

  “I’m not sure I can summon the energy.”

  “We’ll see.” Settling between her thighs, he inhaled their mingled scents, then kissed her. When she pressed closer, he smiled. “It seems you’ve energy enough, sweet Eden.”

  “I’m quite abandoned. Completely shameless. Shall I describe how that feels?” And she did, her voice growing huskier with each word, arousing him once more. But not until she shattered did he again enter her, working slowly to rebuild her fires before plunging them into oblivion.