That blasted honorable man. Lieutenant Stills’s pronouncement was nothing more than hogwash. Charlie stifled a sigh and retreated behind the dressing screen to doff her muslin dress and slippers. She removed her stays for comfort. When she emerged again, Anthony had lit a candle and removed his boots. He stood by the vanity, facing the wall.
Since he appeared good to his word and wouldn’t peek at her state of undress, she crossed and laid her clothing over the vanity to dry for tomorrow’s travel. As she straightened, she brushed against him. Awareness of him raised the hairs on her arms.
His shoulders swelled as he took a breath. She licked her lips as she beheld him. Clad in only his shirtsleeves, his muscles rippled beneath the cloth. Unable to resist, she reached out to touch him.
His held breath turned into a groan. “Go to bed, Charlie.”
I will, if you’ll join me. She wasn’t quite that brazen. She swallowed hard before whispering, “Earlier today, you said you kissed me because you couldn’t resist.”
He half-turned but didn’t lower his gaze from hers. For a moment, he did nothing more than look at her, as if he waged an inner war. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Perhaps I wish you wouldn’t try.”
“Charlie, we are—”
“Alone. I know.” She doubted that was what he meant to say, but she didn’t want to hear him hide behind an excuse. Certainly not the mission they shared.
His eyes darkened as his gaze swept downward for the briefest of moments. Color warmed her cheeks at the notion of him seeing her in nothing but her chemise, but she didn’t attempt to cover herself. It would have been in vain, in any case.
She cupped his cheek, her palm scraping against three days of unshaved stubble. “This time, perhaps I’m the one who cannot resist.” Stepping closer, she rose on tiptoe to kiss him.
The moment her lips touched his, his mouth softened. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, as much for balance as anything else. After a moment’s hesitation, he embraced her just as close.
He tried to end with that quick, chaste kiss, but Charlie wasn’t ready to part from him. She nipped at his lower lip, demanding more. With a groan, he cupped the back of her head and gave it to her.
Sensation flooded her as she surrendered to the kiss. He pressed her intimately against him. A moment later, he slipped his hand beneath her bottom and lifted her. Her chemise, which ended just below the knee, rose higher over her thigh as she wrapped her legs around him to keep from falling.
Her world teetered, and next she knew, her back pressed against the mattress. Anthony continued to kiss her, resting the bulk of his weight on one forearm. As he traced the contours of her figure, she melted against him, ready to follow his lead.
Unfortunately, it ended too soon. As he reached the dip in her waist, he stiffened and drew himself away. He grabbed one of the pillows off the bed and held it between them as he rose.
“Anthony?”
“Goodnight, Charlie.” His voice was gravelly as he retreated to the vanity. “Keep the coverlet. I’ll use my cloak.”
He intended to sleep on the floor again. She stifled a sigh. As she sat up, her body still awakened from his touch, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “It wouldn’t kill you to sleep next to me, you know.”
He didn’t answer as he stretched out on the floor with his back to her and his cloak pulled up over his shoulder.
Charlie bit the inside of her cheek as she blew out the candle and slipped between the sheets. Anthony was far too honorable. Perhaps he didn’t love her, but it was clear that he would never take advantage of their predicament.
Staring at the ceiling, she waited for exhaustion to retake her after these long few days. Her heart continued to pound as she thought of Anthony instead.
If she wanted something from him, it appeared that she would have to take it herself.
Storm clouds brewed to the west, thick froths of darkness churning the air kicked up by the horse’s hooves. The air smelled thick with the promise of rain. Charlie’s arms tightened around Gray’s waist, a sure sign that she noticed the impending storm, too.
Blast! If only they’d had a second horse, they might have made better time. However, as grateful as the innkeeper was for their assistance in saving his stables and apprehending the man responsible for lighting it on fire, he’d had only one horse to offer them in their journey.
The others had been too affected by the smoke to serve as reliable mounts. Therefore, he and Charlie yet again rode two to a horse, necessitating frequent stops and a pace no greater than the occasional trot.
“We won’t make it to Tenwick Abbey,” Charlie shouted above the mounting wind.
Considering that evening would be upon them in an hour or two and they’d yet to halve the distance, Gray had to agree with her pronouncement. However, it didn’t sit well with him—it was possible that Stills had been successful in delaying them too long.
He dug his heels into the mount’s side, urging the horse to a quick trot despite the prolonged pace of the day and heavier-than-average load.
“If we don’t find shelter, we’ll be caught in the storm.”
At the mouth of an offshoot of the road, Gray halted and twisted in the saddle to try to meet Charlie’s gaze. He was only moderately successful. The clouds behind them blotted out the sun, deepening the afternoon gloom until it seemed closer to twilight. The overhanging branches of an unusual, L-shaped tree further dampened his field of vision.
“What do you suggest?” he asked. He had to raise his voice in order to hear it. A gust of wind blew strands of Charlie’s hair into his face. “I can find a hollow and make a lee to shelter us, or we can stop at the next farmhouse we see.”
Charlie pointed toward the tree. “I recognize that tree. We’re near to Lucy’s country estate. When I left with Mama, she was in residence there. It must be no more than an hour’s ride away.”
Gray judged the looming clouds then glanced down the path. Did they have an hour before the storm was upon them? The faint rumble in the distance didn’t bode well.
“Are you certain this is the route to Lucy’s estate?” With his sister’s recent marriage, Charlie couldn’t have been there often, and certainly not from this direction.
“I couldn’t mistake that tree. Lucy called it provenance that her initial was already marking the route.”
Gray chuckled under his breath and shook his head. “You mean to say she didn’t prune the tree to look that way?”
“I’m afraid not. It grew in that shape of its own volition.”
Another, louder rumble growled behind them like a savage beast. They didn’t have a moment to waste.
“Hold tight, then. We must make haste.”
He kicked the horse into a canter as Charlie tightened her hold around his waist.
By the time Charlie tapped on his shoulder and pointed at the path twining up to a grand manor, they were both soaked to the skin. Gray had insisted she take his cloak, but with the way the wind whipped the rain into them, it didn’t do much good. His shirt was plastered to his back with moisture, and Charlie had been pressed tight against it for the past hour.
“That’s it,” Charlie yelled.
As another crack of thunder split the air, Gray scarcely heard. His ears rang as he turned the agitated horse down the winding path. The sky lit up with a flash of lightning that blanketed the horizon from end to end. It left a purplish imprint on his vision as it disappeared.
The ground churned beneath the horse’s hooves as they battled down the drive toward the stables. The doors were shut tight, but Gray prayed someone was left in attendance to see to their mount. The poor beast heaved with pants, from either exhaustion or fright.
Charlie jumped and tightened her hold on him as another peal of thunder shook the air. “Almost there,” he promised. He couldn’t hear his own voice above the wind.
The moment they skidded to a halt in front of the stables, Gray dismounted and lifted Charlie to
her feet. For a moment, her legs trembled, and she leaned against him. At any other time, he would welcome the excuse to hold her. Now, unfortunately, he feared they might catch their death.
He pointed to the manse and ordered her to rouse Lucy and explain the situation. He didn’t know if she heard his words, but she dashed toward the manor nonetheless.
He walloped on the stable door. After a moment, it opened a crack, fighting against the wind. He dug his fingers into the slit and pried it apart far enough to face a young stable boy. Over the roar of the wind and thunder, he explained that he was Lucy’s brother and needed a place to stable his horse. The moment he turned over the steed, he bolted for the manor.
Charlie stood just inside the foyer, shivering and dancing from foot to foot in a widening pool of water. She looked as pale as a ghost as she clutched his cloak to her tightly. Only one person, an aged and stoic man who likely served the household as either a footman or butler, occupied the room.
“Where’s Lucy?”
“He sent a man t-t-to rouse her.” Her teeth chattered.
Hell and damnation. She would fall ill if she didn’t get out of those clothes soon. Unfortunately, he had no warmth to offer her but that of his own body. Although he was just as wet as she, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Her shivers abated as she burrowed against his chest.
When he heard footsteps, he reluctantly drew away. Clad in a flower-printed wrapper, Lucy barreled into the entry. A tall, auburn-haired man in a banyan followed on her heels. The moment she spotted her visitors, Lucy stopped short and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Anthony?”
It was lucky he had released Charlie, because in the next instant, he found his arms full of Lucy. She squeezed the life out of him. He returned the hug gingerly, his ears ringing from her babbling.
“How did you get here? Shouldn’t you be at sea? Why are you with Charlie? Where are your things?”
Relief swept over him. If something had already happened to Mother, Lucy would surely have mentioned it. Instead, she seemed her usual curious self, if not a bit glowy. Gray glanced at the man beside her, her husband, and decided he didn't like thinking about his little sister married, or what this new husband had to do with her glowing. Best not to mention their mission right away. He didn't want to upset Lucy, and since it appeared that nothing had happened to Mother yet, he'd ease into it.
He pulled back long enough to say, “It’s a long story, and it’s been a long journey.” He frowned as he took in her attire once more. “Why are you dressed for bed? It can’t yet be past suppertime.”
Lucy turned as pink as a berry. “It’s so dreadful outside, Alex and I thought we’d go to bed early.”
Lud. He’d forget he’d asked. It seemed the fellow would get his heir sooner rather than later, at this rate. No—Gray didn’t want to consider it when his own sister was the wife.
She turned from him to Charlie. “Dear me, you’re both soaked to the skin. We have to get you both out of those clothes at once. Did you leave your valises at the stables?”
“We have no valises,” Charlie answered. “We were robbed along the way.”
Lucy looked horrified. Before she launched another barrage of questions, Gray held up his hand.
“Like I said, it’s been a long and eventful journey.”
“So it seems.” Lucy insinuated herself between him and Charlie and guided them farther into the house. Their shoes squelched on the floor, but she didn’t appear to notice. “Come, you can both have a hot bath and borrow some clothes from Alex and me. After that, I must hear everything.”
22
Gray wanted nothing more than to see to his mother's safety, but since there was a storm raging, he knew she would not be in any public place. So she was safe for the moment.
After a hot bath and a proper change of clothes, Gray felt like a new man. Even if the clothes didn’t fit as well as his own, the feel of the soft, clean cloth against his skin was heavenly. The chill of the rain was warded away by the crackling fire in the library hearth. It cast a rosy glow over the couple ensconced in the loveseat. Lucy leaned into her husband’s embrace, more content than Gray had ever seen her. For her sake, he tried to relax and give Alex Brackley the benefit of the doubt.
Nevertheless, the moment he found himself alone with the man, he was going to set him straight. Gray would have preferred for Lucy to find herself a staid, bookish man who shared her academic interests, rather than a notorious rake.
If he’d been at home, he might have been able to prevent the match, and he wondered why Morgan had allowed it. Given the fond looks and affectionate touches they gave one another, his interference would not be appreciated. However, since Lucy had settled on a man infamous for entertaining multiple women, Gray needed to ensure that his attention wouldn’t stray from his wife. Gray didn’t care a whit if most noblemen kept mistresses; Brackley would not.
“So you happened upon her by chance?”
Gray grounded himself in the present as he laughed and continued his tale. “I did. She was trying to hold off a French invader with a letter opener. I’d never…”
He trailed off as a shadow entered the doorway. Charlie. He stood, admiring the way the borrowed periwinkle dress molded to her figure. Her hair was still damp but pinned to the back of her head with only two strands left free to frame her face. When she saw him, she smiled. He couldn’t help but smile back.
“Never?” Lucy prompted.
His cheeks warming, he recalled that he and Charlie weren’t alone. As much as he craved holding her close the way Brackley did Lucy, Gray held himself in check. It would be unseemly. Instead, he answered as Charlie crossed the room to sit in a vacant armchair. “I’d never seen anything like it. She was barbaric.”
Charlie’s smile grew. “Oh, are you telling them of the time you interfered where you weren’t needed?” Her voice was falsely sweet, at odds with the challenging glint in her eye.
“I came just in time! He would have shot you, had I tarried but a moment.”
He waited for her to settle into the chair before he resumed his seat. Lucy and her husband exchanged a smile as the long, winding tale continued.
Charlie and Gray took turns in the telling. She held no sensitive information back from the couple and divulged her purpose and the results of their secretive mission. Once they completed the winding tale of how they’d captured his second-in-command in the act of sabotage, Gray ended by saying, “As soon as the storm passes, we mean to be on our way to Tenwick Abbey. If you have a horse to spare to speed our journey, we would be grateful. We must warn Mother at once.”
Lucy sat straighter. “Of course, we must. But she isn’t at Tenwick Abbey. After you departed, Charlie, she returned to the London townhouse.”
No. Gray’s heart skipped a beat. There were so many more opportunities for danger in London. Damn and blast, what if it was already too late? “Are you certain?”
“I am. She wrote me a letter asking me to join her, but I declined.”
Gray got to his feet. Storm or no storm, he couldn’t idle here if his mother’s life was in jeopardy. “Then I’m afraid I must depart at once. We haven’t a moment to lose.”
Brackley also stood, his expression hard. “Quite right. Monsieur V tore apart my family. I cannot sit by and watch him do the same to yours.”
Scowling, Lucy got to her feet with arms raised. “Sit down, both of you. There’s nothing to be done in this storm.”
“It’s only rain,” Gray said, even though he knew the danger to be much worse than he made it out to be. Lightning and thunder could spook the horse, if it didn’t strike him. Low visibility meant a danger on the road, which in this torrent would be as substantial as soup. And of course, there would be the danger to his health if he remained out in the cold rain overnight.
Lucy glared at him. “I won’t see either of you madmen risking your lives by galloping off tonight. When the storm passes in the morning, we’ll head out at first light.�
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“But Mother—”
“She’ll survive the night. Didn’t you say the assassin meant to strike her during an engagement among friends? She cannot leave the house in a storm like this, no more than you.”
She was right. The storm had raged here for hours. It must have reached London by now and would keep Mother confined indoors for the duration. Her evening entertainments would have to be canceled.
Knowing that didn’t make waiting any easier. He chafed at yet another delay, this one beyond anyone’s power to halt. Charlie brushed his arm, a delicate touch that drew his attention to her. As she nibbled on her lower lip, his attention fastened to her mouth. Confound it, he thought, wondering why had they found themselves so close to family. The bath and change of clothes wasn’t worth having to relinquish the freedom to kiss her.
When he cleared his throat, she hastily retracted her hand. “Why don’t we have a hot meal and rest? We can push for London on the morrow. If we ride fast and change horses, we might be able to make it before nightfall.”
It would be a punishing pace, one he didn’t care to subject her to, but with his mother’s life at stake, he didn’t argue with her. They would both move heaven and earth to ensure that Mother’s would-be assassin was arrested in time.
Her stomach gurgled, rousing a blush in her cheeks. “I’m starved,” she confessed.
They’d pushed on rather than search out an eatery to break their fast. Although the innkeeper had provided them with vittles for their journey, Gray had barely nibbled on his, and Charlie hadn’t eaten much more. His appetite had shriveled with every new delay in reaching Mother.
He offered his arm to her with a smile. “Let’s eat then, my—” He cut himself off before he called her dear. “Friend.” He fought not to make a face at his hasty choice of words. Blast, his feelings for her must be as clear as day.
The corners of her mouth trembled as she pressed her lips together. She looked to be fighting off a laugh as she laid her hand on his arm once more. “Yes, let’s.”
Captivating the Captain (Scandals and Spies Book 6) Page 15
