by Anne Stuart
The terrace was deserted as Elizabeth made her solitary way across it. In the sparse moonlight the towers loomed in the distance above her head, giving her an uneasy little shiver of apprehension.
One of Winfields's most innovative and pretentious remodelers, the fourth Adolphus Wingert (the current incumbent was the sixth of that name), had decided that the Wingert family residence needed something truly impressive to inform the entire countryside of their consequence. Therefore, he had ordered the erection of four enormous towers of ancient Norman design at each corner of the rambling building. As it was the mid-eighteenth century, and Norman towers looked attractive only when they were crumbling, Adolphus had incorporated a cunningly crumbling effect over the stonework. Sadly enough, the crumbling had proved more thorough than one could have hoped so that, less than a hundred years later, all but one of them had been declared unsafe.
What better place, thought Elizabeth, to hide a packet of treasonous papers? No one would think to venture onto those massive battements, and any manner of nefarious activities could be carried on without witness. The problem was, which of the four towers? The only sturdy one? Surely a desperate spy wouldn't allow a little moldering masonry to deter him. Throwing her shoulders back, Elizabeth strode onward into the garden, wishing belatedly that she had brought a shawl to cover her nearly nude chest and shoulders. The dull gold satin shone in the moonlight, but it was not fashioned for warmth, and the bright spring afternoon had given way to a rather chilly evening. Had she realized she would have a chance to pursue the mysterious doings, she would have dressed more carefully.
But the sight of Rupert had reminded her quite forcibly of Jeremy and her duty, and her flagging determination strengthened. The absurd décolletage had done her no good whatsoever, she thought grumpily, her slippers noiseless on the flagstone pathway, moving farther away from the noise and light of the drawing room. She shouldn't have allowed herself to put personal vanity and the shameful wish to appear attractive to the mysterious Captain Fraser ahead of her doubts. If only . . .
"Were you by any chance looking for me?" A slow, deep voice came to her ear, and she stopped with a jerk, a small, nervous yelp coming from her throat before she could stop it.
"Really, Captain Fraser," she said severely when she had regained a semblance of control, "how you do frighten one! I had no idea you would be out on such a chilly night."
"You look a great deal chillier," he observed, with a pointed look at the expanse of moon-silvered flesh above the meager confines of her gown. "That's a very fetching gown, Lizzie, but I would watch out for Adolphus. He's the type to take a dress like that for a blatant invitation. He might be even worse than your friend the general."
It was fortunate that the moon was not quite full, for Elizabeth could feel her face suffuse with color. It had been an invitation, but definitely not for the portly, officious Adolphus.
"I'm afraid I don't find Adolphus as alarming as you obviously do, Captain," she said sweetly. "Without question he's slightly pompous."
"What you mean to say, despite this unusual roundaboutation on your part," Michael said sharply, "is that Dolph has more hair than wit and is nothing to worry about. But I think you underestimate him. I think Sir Adolphus Wingert could be quite formidable when crossed."
"I tremble in my boots," said Elizabeth pertly. "And what are you doing out here all alone? Up to no good, I don't doubt."
A small smile lit his dark face. "As a matter of fact, I slipped out to have a romantic assignation with a certain lady of my acquaintance."
"Oh." She looked back toward the house, thoroughly embarrassed. "I didn't see anyone else leave."
The cynical smile deepened. "You must have scared her away."
There was no doubt he was laughing at her, an occurrence that Elizabeth found both irritating and beguiling. "Should I try to find her for you?" she questioned impishly, and then her warm brown eyes widened in shock. The expression on his face was something she had never seen before on a gentleman's face, and it boded no good for her.
"Don't bother," he said simply, with great determination. "You will provide an admirable substitute." And before she could collect her scattered wits, she found herself in his arms, being ruthlessly kissed.
Elizabeth had never been kissed before, although she had read countless descriptions of the experience in French novels that constituted the major portion of her reading material; but she was finding out rapidly that there was a great deal of difference between theory and actual experience. For one thing, actuality was far more delightful. His warm breath mingling with hers, the feel of his buttons pressing against her flesh, and the strength in those imprisoning arms were causing all sorts of astounding reactions in the pit of her stomach. He had had to force her chin up to kiss her, and it seemed only natural for her to reach up and put her arms around his neck while continuing this delightful pastime. It was with real regret that she felt him pull away somewhat, the strong arms still firmly around her waist as he looked down into her eyes. His eyes were filled with a curious expression; one might almost have called it tenderness. But then, the moonlight could be deceiving.
"Well, Lizzie," he said, and his voice was husky, "who would have thought?" And his mouth descended again.
If the first kiss had been a delightful surprise, this was something more of a shock. With a deftness of purpose that left her completely breathless he tilted her head back, slanting his mouth across hers, and the sudden, unmistakably raw passion both terrified and enchanted her. One of his strong, dark hands had left her waist to slide up the silky front of her dress, and as it caught the gentle swell of her breast, she stiffened in his arms, a small sound of reluctant protest issuing from the back of her throat.
He ignored it. His mouth was teasing, exciting hers, his tongue a sudden, shocking intruder into the warm haven of her mouth, and she felt her low-cut neckline slip lower still so that the cool night air chilled her flesh. Then his warm, rough-textured hands were touching her, holding her. She moaned into his mouth, a soft sound of both protest and desire, and his hands gentled on her sensitive flesh as his mouth finally released her.
"We're in real trouble, you know," he whispered. "I have to be out of my mind. This is neither the place nor the time, and you're most definitely not the woman."
She opened her mouth to protest, then shut it as sounds penetrated her love-dazed abstraction. With great snorting, heavy breathing, and noisy outrage, her host appeared on the scene. Sir Adolphus's pale, protruding blue eyes protruded even more, his thick wet lips trembled with indignation, and his large front swelled with further outrage. "Cousin Elizabeth!" he thundered in awesome tones.
Michael's hands left her, pausing long enough to pull the dress back around her, and his tanned face was impassive as he faced Sir Adolphus's fire-breathing, chubby little form.
"I was warned, Fraser," continued Adolphus in high- pitched tones, "that you were unreliable, but I hardly thought I would have to put a guard on the female guests in my home! This poor frail creature that you've shabbily abused—"
"Gammon!" said Elizabeth roundly. "I haven't been shabbily abused. I—"
"Say no more, dear cousin Elizabeth!" he begged. "You are overcome by your experience, and who can blame you? I only thank heaven that Mama sent me out after you, else who knows what might have happened with a fellow so lost to every principle as to attack a poor flower of the female sex! I should have you horsewhipped, Fraser!"
"Would you stop this idiotic behavior?" begged Elizabeth, since Fraser made no move to defend himself. "Captain Fraser didn't attack me, Dolph. It just. . . happened. It was no one's fault, and there's no need to fall into a distemper'd freak about it."
Adolphus drew himself up to his full height, a mere inch shorter than Elizabeth's queenly form, and quivered with outrage. "Elizabeth, it grieves me to hear you defend this man. What your brother will say when I recount this night's deeds I shudder to think. I would say the best thing is for you to return to
the house immediately. As for you, Fraser, I only wish there was something I could do to put you in your place. Obviously my hands are tied until this weekend is over, but don't think your superiors won't hear of this night's work!"
"I'm sure they'd be fascinated," he drawled.
Adolphus harrumphed. "All I can say is that Miss Traherne is obviously unwell, and I shall do all I can to persuade her to retire early and remove herself from your pernicious influence."
"Adolphus, you are being extremely tiresome," Elizabeth snapped. "Give me your arm and we'll go back to the house. You are making a great fuss over nothing."
"Nothing?" echoed Fraser sotto voce, a gleam of laughter in his eyes. Fortunately, Adolphus was too overwrought to hear the teasing words.
With one glance of dislike the baron turned his broad back on the captain, catching Elizabeth's hand in a crushing grip and dragging her back toward the house, all the time uttering dire predictions under his breath. When Elizabeth looked back, Fraser was still standing there, watching them disappear. She could have wept with frustration. Now he could root about the towers as much as he wanted, with no fear that she would catch him in the act. If only she'd shown a little more resolution instead of allowing him to kiss her in that odious way!
Well, it wasn't precisely odious, she had to admit, as Adolphus's tight corsets and labored breathing forced him to advance at a slower pace, all the time haranguing her about her indecent behavior. As a matter of fact, it had been quite overwhelming. Her mouth and whole body still seemed to burn from his embrace. As she stumbled back onto the terrace behind Adolphus, she wondered whether she ought to experience that particular sensation again to see whether it would always be quite so enthralling. Merely on the basis of comparison, of course.
The first thing she had to do, however, was send Rupert out after Fraser. She hated to confide in St. Ives, though why she was so loath to do so baffled her. But if she could, she would rather not tell anyone here of her suspicions; she wanted to prove that she was more than a match for him. Or perhaps she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt without exposing him to the attention of the British government and its employees. Whatever the cause, she wished more than anything that she didn't have to send Rupert out after Michael, but she knew that she had no choice.
Adolphus came to an abrupt halt in the shadows. "I am most disturbed, Elizabeth," he said sternly, "that you allowed that man to accost you. I am convinced you are unwell! Mama has some excellent medicines that have proved enormously helpful. Perhaps some of Bacon's Cordial Essence of Russia Rhubarb."
"I hardly think Essence of Russia Rhubarb will stop me from enjoying being kissed," Elizabeth said tardy, and then regretted it. Adolphus licked his thick pink lips, yanked her toward him with more force than she would have credited him, and proceeded to cover her face with wet, disagreeable kisses.
Elizabeth was outraged. More because he was polluting the earlier kiss that she had planned to dwell on at length when she was alone then for the actual damp salutations. "Stop it, Dolph!" she ordered, pushing against his corseted chest with ineffectual hands. "You forget yourself!"
He kept trying to reach her lips, but she managed to keep her face averted, noting absently how easy it was to avoid being kissed on the mouth if one really didn't care to be. His busy little hands were squeezing her, leaving damp stains on the satin, and she contemplated the rather rash extreme of treading on his instep, when a shadow loomed up and he was plucked off her like a struggling spider.
Adolphus thrashed about, his eyes bulging. "I say, Fraser, put me down this minute!" he squeaked. Michael Fraser held him for a moment longer, then dropped him roughly to the terrace. Adolphus staggered, his breathing even more labored, and the expression on his fat, pale face was frankly murderous.
"I'll see you cashiered for this," he said in a low, evil voice. "How dare you lay hands on me? I'm not without influence, you know, and I can have your head on a platter if I say the word."
"I doubt it," Fraser said briefly. "By all means try, if you care to. Though you're more likely to make a cake of yourself when it gets around that I was merely trying to protect a . . . what did you call Miss Traherne? A helpless flower of the female sex?"
"I would think my word would have better credit than yours," Adolphus said stiffly.
"No doubt. But you also happen to have a rather nasty scratch across your face that looks suspiciously like the marks from a lady's fingernails."
"And you'd no doubt back his word?" Adolphus demanded of Elizabeth sulkily.
"Without question."
"Trollop," he spat and found himself once more caught in Fraser's punishing grip.
"You will apologize to the lady," he ordered grimly, "or I will be forced to give you the beating you've deserved for years."
"I . . . I apologize," Adolphus gasped from his strangled throat, and Fraser released him abruptly. After a look of blind loathing, Sir Adolphus Wingert disappeared into the bushes, obviously in search of a more private entrance to Winfields. Fraser turned back to the shaken Elizabeth, and his expression was grim.
"You'd best get back to the jolly little party before your absence has been noticed by anyone other than the old witch. And where in the world was your protective St. Ives while I was molesting you?"
"He must have thought he could trust you to behave like a gentleman," she said stiffly.
"Not Rupert. He knows me far too well," Fraser replied mysteriously. "Back to the house with you."
"Yes, Captain," she said meekly, determined to follow him the moment he took off into the bushes again.
As if reading her mind, he continued, "I'll be right behind you. And for God's sake, destroy that dress of yours when you retire tonight!"
"But why?"
"The British Empire is in trouble enough with the so-called Corsican monster plaguing our shores. The sight of you in that dress is enough to turn any red-blooded British soldier shatter-brained."
"Are you a red-blooded British soldier?" she inquired, thinking more in terms of politics than lust.
Fraser misread her question. "You know that I am," he replied shortly, turning her around with strong hands and giving her a little push in the direction of the drawing room doors. "And I would suggest you return to the drawing room before I prove it once again."
Elizabeth was sorely tempted, but for once she resisted. "You will be coming right in?"
"I told you that I would."
"Because if you decided not to," she continued inexorably, "I would be forced to ask Rupert to go outside and find you. Much as I would dislike taking such a rash action."
He stared at her for a long, silent moment. "I'm still more than a match for Rupert St. Ives." His voice was cold and still.
"I'm sure you are. I would prefer not to have to put it to the test." Her eyes were beseeching in her set face, and Michael's grim expression lightened.
"I'll be right behind you," he said again in a softer tone. "Unless you'd rather stay out here with me for a while longer. We were interrupted."
Elizabeth's tense nerves relaxed, and she grinned up at him. "No, thank you, Captain," she said meekly, and reentered the warmth and light of the drawing room with only a faint feeling of regret.
Chapter 11
"Well there you are at last, Elizabeth," Lady Eifreda announced from across the room with her customarily piercing tones. "What in the world have you been doing out there in the garden on such a chilly night? You appear quite windblown."
Elizabeth put an absent hand to her hair, finding it comparatively sedate in its stern pinnings. She smiled sweetly at her nemesis. "The evening is quite delightful, Lady Eifreda. I am persuaded you would enjoy a brisk stroll almost as much as I did."
Her ladyship chose to ignore that suggestion. "Did you happen to see either Adolphus or Captain Fraser? They both disappeared around the time you decided to go for a walk."
The low hum of conversation had stopped by this time, and the small group of guests were n
o longer making any effort to conceal their interest. Rupert was eyeing her from one of the card tables with a particularly intimidating glower.
Elizabeth was irked. She simpered across the room at her ladyship, batting her eyes ingenuously. "Oh, la, your ladyship, it was monstrously exciting! There was I, merely seeking a breath of fresh air, when what should Captain Fraser do but leap out of the bushes, grab me, and kiss me quite fiercely. And then Dolph appeared, and threatened to knock Captain Fraser down, and started to escort me back to the house. But then Dolph tried to kiss me just as fiercely as Captain Fraser, and Captain Fraser appeared from out of the bushes and threatened to knock Dolph down, so I said—"
"You've said quiet enough already," Lady Elfreda snorted, much irritated. "Such a bunch of farradiddle I have never heard in my life."
"It comes from reading too many French novels," Elizabeth replied pertly, relief flooding her as she realized that Michael had entered the door directly behind her. "Why don't you ask Captain Fraser what the three of us were doing out there?"
Michael raised an inquiring eyebrow at the fascinated group. "Have you been divulging secrets, Miss Traherne?"
By this time Lady Elfreda appeared to have regretted the brouhaha she had instigated. "Well, I am certain that if both Dolph and Captain Fraser were present, then Miss Traherne was adequately chaperoned." She made a dismissing gesture with one clawlike hand, but Elizabeth chose to ignore her. She turned to Michael, smiling brilliantly.
"I was just telling them that both you and Dolph tried to kiss me and then decided to fight for my favors," she said impishly, daring him to refute it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rupert take a threatening step forward.
