by Jo Goodman
North pushed back from the desk and turned slightly in his chair. "That can be arranged easily enough."
Elizabeth's hands fell to her sides. She turned and looked at him fully, gauging his response."You are not surprised."
He did not deny it. "You and I both knew she would want you to prove your loyalty to her quickly. The ambassador's ball is precisely the right affair. In her place I would have chosen the same."
"She means to draw you in."
"That was to be expected," he said. "You did not give it away, I hope."
Elizabeth bristled a little at the suggestion. "I am a more accomplished liar than that." Her flush returned as she realized the full import of her words. "It is a rather incriminating defense, is it not? But there you have it."
"Indeed." Chuckling, he held out his hands to her. She did not hesitate to take them and allow herself to be drawn onto his lap. "What have you been told to take?"
"The ambassador's daughter has an emerald necklace that Louise covets."
"More likely she covets what is in the ambassador's private study."
"That is what I was thinking," said Elizabeth.
"There is some suspicion that the French are not as subdued as they would have us believe. If there exists proof that certain members of our own government are working in concert with them—for personal gain—that proof would be valuable to Louise and Harrison. People would go to great lengths to keep it from becoming public."
"Should you like to have such proof?"
"Most certainly, though the truth is, it is hard to say what might be uncovered at the residence. I imagine Louise and Harrison's forays do not always yield what they anticipate. There must be times when they are disappointed..." North's voice trailed off as he became more thoughtful. A slow, secretive smile eventually transformed his face. "Do you know, Elizabeth, I believe I think better when you are on my lap. It is the fragrance of your hair, I am certain of it."
"Do not think I can be diverted with flattery, North, though it was a very pretty compliment. Tell me what you are thinking." She saw his decidedly wicked smile. "Not what you are thinking at this precise moment," she amended. "I can divine that well enough. Tell me the other."
Persuaded that she could truly not be distracted, North surrendered. "It occurs to me that if on occasion Battenburn and his wife are disappointed with what they find, then the opposite is also likely to be true."
Elizabeth waited to hear more. "And..." she prompted.
"And I will have to speak to the colonel," North said.
"To see if the ambassador's ball might not be one of the latter occasions."
"You are being deliberately vague."
"Yes, but not because I think you would give anything away to Louise."
"Humph."
"You are a very accomplished liar."
Elizabeth was not amused by his teasing. She set her teeth.
"I cannot tell you what I do not know," he said. "Let me speak to the colonel. He will know what can be done. If I acted on my own, I could very well make a tangle of someone else's assignment."
"But then he will have to know about me," she said. "What I am... what I've done. And Selden..." Elizabeth considered all that had been done in aid of keeping her own child from knowing the truth of his birth. "I want to tell the colonel myself. I cannot let you say it for me."
"If that is your wish."
She nodded solemnly. "It is." Elizabeth could not keep the concern out of her eyes or the question out of her voice. "I think he will forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive, Elizabeth."
"He will be hurt that I did not apply to him for help."
"He will understand. If not immediately, then in a short time. He knows your father. He will understand the pressures that kept you silent. As for Selden, you can depend upon the colonel saying nothing. He will respect your decision to see that Adam's birth had legitimacy."
She had to believe he was right. "So many times I've wished I told him about Adam's father. I would not have felt so alone when I discovered I was pregnant. He might have sent for me. I might have gone to India and met you there."
North's smile was gentle. "Perhaps. Some things are meant to happen no matter how we try to avoid them."
"Are you speaking of yourself as well? Of marriage?"
"I was certainly not of the same mind as my mother on the subject."
"Really?"
He nodded. "She was determined that I should be wed. I argued with her just before I arrived at Battenburn. South was there to witness some of it, though he had the good sense not to take sides."
"I imagine he has a gun to his head also."
"A cannon. That is what his mother wields."
"Mothers are wont to see their sons settled." She cupped the side of his face, touching the corner of his mouth with her thumb. "They are wont to see their sons with heirs."
North's eyes narrowed. "Has my mother said something to you? I told her I would not brook her interference."
"You will not credit it, but your mother has been tight-lipped on the matter. However, you neglected to say something similar to your grandfather." Beneath her hand Elizabeth could feel warmth suffuse North's cheek."He meant well," she said. "And I did not mind. It was reasonable that he should wonder about an heir."
"Yes, but did he have to wonder aloud?"
Elizabeth smiled and then pressed it against North's lips. She felt the shape of his mouth change slowly, warming to the touch of hers. Drawing back slowly, she looked at him, her eyes darkening in response to what she saw in his."Will you give me a child, North?"
He could say nothing for a moment. "Are you certain?"
She nodded. "Very. It is one of the things I came to understand when I was with your grandfather. I thought I was afraid to carry another child, afraid that I could not be a proper mother or afraid it would be taken from me, but it is not fear, North, or rather it is not only fear. I realized at Stonewickam that I have been punishing myself, and that I have been doing it for a very long time."
North's own smile was tender. He pressed the heart of her palm against his mouth and kissed her there; then he held her hand in his. "Let us see what we can do about this matter of an heir," he said. "Among all the people who care for us, there is sure to be a wager."
Chapter 15
Elizabeth glowed. Guests of the ambassador remarked on it as North led her onto the dance floor. The Dowager Countess of Northam heard rumor repeated as gospel that her daughter-in-law was enceinte, which she neither confirmed nor denied, though she suspected the truth was merely that Elizabeth was most sincerely happy.
North turned Elizabeth in the first wide arc of the waltz. Her face was lifted toward him, bathed beautifully in prisms of candlelight from the crystal chandeliers. The gold shards in her eyes flashed, making the smile she communicated there more wicked than the demure placement of her lips would suggest. "You should not look at me in quite that manner, my lady. This evening might well be over before it is properly begun. The ambassador is a Parisian, do not forget. He will understand perfectly our hasty exit from his ball."
Elizabeth's smile was not reduced in any manner. "And you should not have encouraged me to have a second glass of wine before we left our home. I have no head for drink."
North's own smile did not waver, though there was no accompanying teasing light in his eyes. To the throng of guests crowding the edge of the ballroom, nothing had changed in his demeanor. To Elizabeth, he communicated something different. "Are you clearheaded enough to continue?"
She nodded. "I was having fun with you, North. Do not concern yourself that I shall not be able do everything as you and the colonel have planned."
"Bloody hell, Elizabeth."
"You're glowering. People will talk."
North's fingers tightened around her hand and at her waist, but he managed to look less threatening. "I should have had a second glass," he said under his breath. He glanced with some longing toward th
e crush of people around the punch bowls. Elizabeth's light laughter garnered his attention and her beautiful smile kept it there. There was a pale flush to her complexion, a hint of roses in her cheeks that might have been the wine, but he doubted it. Excitement and anticipation put some of the color there; he could not say what accounted for the rest.
The strains of music rose and fell as they danced the length of the ballroom. The ostrich plume in her ivory turban dipped each time Elizabeth was turned. Metallic gold threads in her tunic and gown sparkled with her every step. The ivory fan dangling from her wrist swung lightly to the stringed accompaniment, and in spite of the limp she affected, she was light and lithe in his arms.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
She did not hesitate. "That I shall be free," she said simply, gravely. "That if all goes well, I shall finally be free."
North nodded. This, then, accounted for the remainder of her glowing complexion and the brightness in her eyes. The worry, even fear, he had seen earlier at Merrifeld Square, the dread that had prompted him to give her that second glass of wine, seemed to have been left behind. It gave him pause. In his experience a certain amount of anxiety was not entirely a bad thing. It served to keep one's wits sharpened.
Elizabeth searched North's face when he remained quiet. "It will all go well," she said, though it was unclear from her tone whether she was giving assurance or seeking it.
"The colonel. You. So much planning this last fortnight. Everyone is agreed that nothing has been left to chance."
"Something is always left to chance," he said. "A foregone conclusion only achieves that distinction in hindsight." North felt her stumble a little, the first misstep she had made in his embrace. Until now she had been light in his arms, the limp she affected all but vanishing as she moved with the music. He inclined his head toward her and whispered just below the lilting strains of the waltz, "I say it not to shatter your confidence but to hone your awareness."
Elizabeth nodded once. What she became immediately aware of was the rush of blood from her head to her feet. "You will understand if I do not thank you for it," she said shakily.
"Chin up," he directed her. "Better. Now smile. Very lovely. Do you know I mean to make love to you tonight? Perhaps in the carriage before we reach home. Think about that."
She trod on his toes. "Think about that."
Grinning, he recovered easily. "Is it your intention to give me a limp to match your own?"
Elizabeth considered taking aim at his stockinged shins. "It is fortunate for you the waltz is ending."
His grin merely deepened. He spun her to the edge of the ballroom floor just as the last notes faded and they were immediately welcomed into a clutch of glittering guests. North skillfully steered Elizabeth to one of the unoccupied chairs at the edge of the room. For once she seemed grateful for the pretense of her limp. "Shall I get you something to drink?" he asked.
"Ratafia." She laughed when North made a face, showing his distaste for the sweet, fruity liqueur. "I don't really like it either," she admitted. "Therefore, I am certain not to indulge myself."
Making a slight bow, he left her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lady Battenburn immediately withdraw from her circle of friends and begin to wend her way toward Elizabeth. He had to resist the urge to return to Elizabeth's side. He wished there had been no part for her to play in tonight's game, but from the outset he knew nothing could be accomplished without her. If she had been Lord and Lady Battenburn's pawn in the past, she was now the colonel's queen.
Elizabeth's fear that Blackwood would find fault with the choices she had made were unfounded. The colonel had drawn her to his side, holding her cool hand as she told him all and spared herself nothing. There was no condemnation, no reproach. Just as North had said, the colonel told her there was nothing to forgive. His regret was that she had borne the burden alone, that the betrayal of her trust had left her afraid to trust even him. North had left the room quietly, giving them privacy and time to come to terms with the circumstances and revelations that had separated them.
And when he returned they began plotting the end of the Battenburn terror.
* * *
Watching Northam disappear in the crowd, Elizabeth fanned herself absently. Lavender silks and pink satins intermingled in the ballroom as guests positioned themselves for the next dance. A gap in the onlookers allowed Elizabeth to have a narrow view of the floor. She glimpsed Lady Powell in a cloud of rose silk and Lord Heathering making a fine leg to his wife. Silver threads in his waistcoat caught the light and the buckles on his pumps gleamed.
The ambassador's winter ball was every bit the squeeze Lady Battenburn had predicted. Carriages lined the street in front of the gated residence for blocks on either side and filled the circular drive leading to the main entrance. Drivers, footmen, and young tigers, all wearing their livery beneath heavy woolen capes, waited stoically in the cold January night to be of service again. More than a hundred torches illuminated the snow-covered grounds, lending the illusion of perpetual twilight to an evening with no moon's grace.
Inside the ambassador's palatial residence, noble guests had the muted rainbow hues of their silk gowns and satin coats reflected back to them from polished marble floors. The grand entrance was brightened with gilt-framed mirrors that added dimension to the extraordinary size of the room and multiplied the attending throng.
Guests crowded the perimeter of the ballroom and spilled into the hall and up the elegant curve of the wide staircase. Laughter mingled pleasantly with the music. One simply could not be heard separate from the other. Chatter was endless; gossip was rife. Good humor forgave the occasional slight, and there was general agreement among the assembly that the French ambassador was a most generous host—this last praise being given by those imbibing freely of the French ambassador's brandy.
Caught in the infusion of color and candlelight, Elizabeth only saw Louise when the lady was upon her. She could not help the tension that drew her back straight, but she hid it with a graceful gesture, indicating the vacant chair beside her and asking Louise to join her.
Lady Battenburn surveyed her immediate surroundings and judged there to be sufficient privacy to engage Elizabeth in conversation of consequence. She sat, her generous smile for the benefit of anyone watching her. At a distance no one could see that it failed to soften her dark eyes. She opened her fan and waved it idly in front of her, lifting her face to expose her throat as she did so.
She was elegantly attired in an ice blue gown with matching slippers and draped satin cap. The white ostrich plumes that adorned it were frosted pale blue at the tips. The delicate ends fluttered as Louise made another pass with her fan and the similarly colored diamonds adorning her neck winked as light alternated with shadow."It is a pleasant gathering," Louise said. "Do you not find it so?" Her words were not intended as absent chatter. She watched to see if any heads turned in their direction when she spoke. "I was right to expect it would be an important event, although it is too bad of Prinny to make so short an appearance. I suspect it was that corset he was wearing. He looked abominably uncomfortable."
Elizabeth knew the Prince Regent's abbreviated attendance had nothing to do with his corset, though Louise's observation that he had looked uncomfortable was accurate enough. "I believe Princess Caroline is unwell," she said. "That is what I have heard."
Louise shook her head. "Mark my words," she said, testing the waters by raising her voice just a bit. "It was the corset." Satisfied when no one turned to regard her, Lady Battenburn went on in more confidential tones. "Our plans have changed."
Elizabeth blinked. She gripped her closed fan in both hands to steady them. In the past Louise had occasionally presented her with some alteration of the plan as it was first laid out, but tonight she had hoped it would not be the case. "In what way?" she asked.
One of Louise's russet brows lifted. "Have you not seen what the mademoiselle is wearing this evening?"
Knowing that Lo
uise was referring to the ambassador's daughter, Elizabeth nodded. "The emeralds," she said. "It is of no matter, Louise. I can easily take them."
Louise shook her head. "No. Battenburn and I are agreed it is too dangerous. They would be quickly missed. I had not expected her to wear them this evening. I was led to believe it would be pearls. Indeed, they would be a better complement to her gown than the emeralds." She sighed. "There is no accounting for the whims of young women." Casting a significant look in Elizabeth's direction, she continued. "The ambassador keeps all his daughter's jewelry in his private library."
Elizabeth's eyes widened fractionally. "Private library? But you told me I could expect to find them in her room."
"And so you could have until recently." Her smile twisted ironically. "The Gentleman Thief has made everyone cautious."
"Is the library on this floor?"
"Yes. That is agreeable to you, is it not?"
"It will have to be," she said with credible calm. "I will require some direction. I have no notion where to go."
Lady Battenburn quickly explained how Elizabeth could find the private library. "I understand the ambassador has a fine collection of rare books," she added with a brief smile. "You must tell me if that is so." Louise tapped her fan lightly on Elizabeth's wrist. "You will go quickly, m' dear. Battenburn has engaged the ambassador in conversation and will see that you are not interrupted." She stood, preparing to leave.
Elizabeth had no liking for the urgency with which Louise presented herself, but experience had taught her that raising objections was pointless. She came to her feet. Beyond Louise's shoulder she could see Northam approaching but could risk no expression of any kind that might serve as a warning. She smiled coolly at Louise. "You have not told me what I am to bring you."
"The pearls, I think. The ones la jeune fille should have worn this evening."
Elizabeth turned and slipped between the press of bare shoulders and glittering throats. She could see neither the ambassador nor Battenburn, but it made no difference to the purposefulness with which she moved through the crowd. With her back turned to Louise she risked a small smile, pleased that the deviation to the baroness's plan was precisely as she and North had expected.
