by Emma Slate
When I looked at him curiously, he explained, “You were talking out loud.”
“See? I’m not operating on all cylinders.”
“I need you,” Flynn stated. “Mrs. Keith is a wonderful nanny. Hawk is in good hands.”
I took a deep breath. Flynn was a father—it was different for him. Leaving his child with someone else didn’t tug on his heart the same way it did mine. Because I was a mother. I’d carried another life inside of me. I wasn’t the same, and I wouldn’t be, ever again.
But Flynn needed me, too, and I couldn’t walk away from him was he was asking, pleading with me to be his wife, his partner.
“Okay,” I relented. “Okay, we’ll do this. Together.”
We held a meeting at Malcolm’s house since that was where Duncan and Ash lived. Duncan was still bed bound, so we’d come to him. Ash sat quietly by his side. Ramsey was a bit more vocal and paced around Duncan’s bedroom, anger and tension radiating off of him. Ever since Malcolm had died, Ramsey’s good charm had fled—he’d become a complete hot head, out of control of his own emotions, a pot ready to boil. He had no objectivity whatsoever, and I worried what would happen when we all learned who was behind Malcolm’s murder. I was afraid Ramsey would go in, guns blazing, and get himself killed.
“I want to go to London with you,” Ramsey said to Flynn.
“No,” Flynn said.
Ramsey’s face darkened. “That’s not up to you.”
“The hell it’s not,” Flynn argued. “I’m acting leader.”
Ramsey looked away from Flynn and glanced at his brother. “What do you say, Duncan? Should I go to London?”
“And do what?” Flynn interjected before Duncan could speak. “You’re not thinking clearly. What can you do? How can you help?”
Ramsey fell silent, but his eyes burned with an angry fervor. “And you really think you can do this?” Ramsey asked me.
“I do.”
“She has a bit of experience in our world,” Duncan interjected. “She stays calm and can think three steps ahead.”
The old Barrett used to be able to do that—before my hormones and priorities changed. I shoved all those thoughts down, refusing to give them a voice. I would do this; I could do this. It might take everything in me to shelf motherhood for a few hours, but I’d do it.
“I don’t like this,” Ramsey stated. “I don’t like this at all.” In a supreme state of rage, he stalked out of the bedroom. A moment later the front door slammed.
“We’ll give you guys some time to talk,” I said, looking at Ash. She rose from her chair and then followed me out of the bedroom, closing the door behind us.
“You’re really going to do this?” Ash asked as we headed to the living room.
“I volunteered you for the job, but he—”
“No, you guys are like Bonnie and Scottish Clyde. Makes sense that he’d want you.”
I put my head in my hands. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to do this kind of thing.”
“Yeah, well, being an incubator was a full time job. And you couldn’t really do the things you used to do while pregnant.”
“And I can do them now since I’ve got my body back?” I muttered. “I have a baby.”
“Nothing is going to happen when you’re in London. You’re going to go into Lord Elliot’s house, flirt with him, get him alone, and put the screws to him.”
“Actually Flynn is going to put the screws to him. I just have to get Lord Elliot alone. I just hope he’s not handsy.”
“This guy is really supposed to know who wants to take down the SINS?”
“Lord Arlington, our informant, for lack of a better word, overheard Lord Elliot discussing the financial ramifications if Scotland gained its independence.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Lord Elliot discussed what it would mean for him if Scotland gained its independence.”
“It’s still a straw we’re grasping at.”
“They’re men of action, Ash. It’s killing them to do nothing.”
“So Flynn is going to drag you to London on a whim?”
I stared at her. “Stand down, Ash.”
Chapter 9
“Did I tell you that you look gorgeous?” Flynn asked, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips.
I nodded and grinned. “You’ve already told me that.”
“Well, I mean it. That dress is lethal.”
My already curvy form was curvier. The emerald colored gown highlighted my skin and hair and I felt beautiful, despite the fact that I was wearing a thick bra and a stretchy device that held in my stomach. But my husband had given me emerald earrings the size of asteroids. It was a hell of a consolation prize. Even if I never got my body back, at least I’d have nice jewelry.
The car door opened and I slid out of my seat, taking the offered hand from the chauffeur. Flynn put his hand to my hip and escorted me up the pathway to Lord Arlington’s London townhouse.
“Here we go,” Flynn said, ringing the doorbell.
The door opened and a tall man in a tuxedo answered. His dark hair was salt and peppered and there were only a few wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. I expected him to look more weasel-like, but I was surprised to find that he was decent looking.
Lord Arlington stood back so we could enter his home. Once we stepped across the threshold, Lord Arlington gave Flynn a clipped greeting, his eyes cold before turning to me.
“Mrs. Campbell, welcome,” he said in a posh English accent. His tone had warmed considerably when he addressed me. I didn’t know why considering I was Flynn’s wife. How would Lord Arlington treat me if he knew I was the one that suggested using his children to get him to cooperate?
“Barrett, please,” I insisted, shaking myself out of my thoughts. I looked around the foyer, noting the antique furnishings and paintings. “You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you. Come into the library and we’ll have a drink before we go.”
We followed him down a long hallway and entered the library. “What will you have to drink, Barrett?” Lord Arlington asked. He stood by the liquor cart and waited for my answer. It was hard to find my tongue because I was too busy gaping at the gorgeous room. Leather bound books rested on wooden shelves and a huge fireplace was currently ablaze, giving off the most splendid heat.
“Barrett? Drink?” Flynn prodded.
I shook my head and smiled ruefully at Lord Arlington. “I’m sorry. I got lost in your library for a moment.”
Lord Arlington smiled back at me. “A most excellent place to get lost in.”
“I’ll have a club soda please.”
“Campbell?” Arlington asked Flynn. Though polite, Arlington’s voice was cool.
“Same, thank you.”
Arlington raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Flynn was usually a scotch drinker, but tonight, he had to be clear headed. I didn’t drink because I was nursing. A pang of guilt shot through my stomach when I thought of Hawk. But he was home, safely tucked away in his crib. If he cried, Mrs. Keith would pick him up and rock him in her dimpled arms.
I had nothing to worry about.
We sat down with our drinks and Flynn rested his hand on my thigh. I noticed Arlington’s eyes dart to my bare legs but he quickly lifted his gaze to my face.
“It seems congratulations are in order,” Arlington said. “Your husband told me about your son.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“Must be difficult being away from him when he’s so young.”
“Very,” I said.
After Lord Arlington asked a few more polite questions about Hawk, Flynn cleared his throat. “You two should get going.”
Arlington nodded and set his glass down before rising. “Ten PM. That should give Barrett two hours. Is that enough time?”
I nodded. It would have to be. I didn’t want to draw this out any longer than necessary.
“Aye,” Flynn said, squeezing my hand. “She can do it.”
“I’ll text when he’s in place,” I said.
Flynn nodded and then we kissed goodbye. Lord Arlington guided me to his waiting car and held the door open for me. I slid inside and he followed.
Driving through London traffic, the lights of the city reminded me of New York. I realized I didn’t miss it. I’d come to consider Dornoch my home and I couldn’t wait to return.
“Anything you want to discuss before we arrive at Elliot’s house?” Arlington asked.
“No, I think Flynn and I talked about everything.”
Arlington smirked. “Perhaps you should call me Henry.”
“Perhaps I should,” I agreed. “Thank you for helping us.”
“Your husband didn’t give me much of a choice.”
I stared at him for a long moment, trying to tamp down my feelings of dislike. It didn’t matter if Arlington was charming or polite to me—he was weak and he had no true loyalty.
“We all have a choice,” I stated.
The car came to a stop and Arlington adjusted his tuxedo jacket. “Are you ready?”
Grinning, I nodded. “Are you?”
“That’s him,” Lord Arlington said, gesturing with his chin to point out Lord John Elliot.
I looked at our host for the evening. He was tall and still in decent shape for an older man.
Lord Elliot laughed at something a male friend of his said, looking affable and pleasant. “Where’s his wife?” I asked, discreetly looking around the ballroom.
“Attempting to keep their twenty-year old son away from the liquor,” Lord Arlington murmured.
“Excellent,” I said, squaring my shoulders.
“Should I introduce you?” Lord Arlington inquired, raising his eyebrows at me.
I shook my head. “No. When I toss my hair over my shoulder, interrupt us.” Without waiting for Arlington’s reply, I stalked towards my prey.
Lord Elliot glanced at me briefly and then whipped his eyes back for a longer look. He was an easy man to distract. Granted, my breasts did a lot of the work for me. Or maybe the birthday party he was giving his twenty-one-year-old daughter was just that dull. It was an aristocratic, black tie affair and I wondered what kind of twenty-one-year-old wanted this kind of party. I quickly put together that this event was for her father.
I stopped when I had joined his group. There were four men, all peering at me with interest and surprise. Keeping my eyes on Elliot, I smiled widely and said, “Lord Elliot. I’m so sorry for intruding on your conversation, but I just had to meet you.”
Holding out my hand to Lord Elliot, my smile widened when he grasped it and brought it to his lips. “Not at all, Mrs.—”
I lifted my left hand so he could see my unadorned wedding ring finger. “It’s Ms. And please, call me Barrett. Gentlemen,” I said briefly turning my attention from Lord Elliot to his friends, “Do you mind terribly if I steal his attention for a moment?”
Lord Elliot’s friends gave their approval, and later, when they were all having a drink and smoke together in the library, they would no doubt talk about me in lewd and ribald terms.
When Lord Elliot and I were alone, I said, “You must be the greatest father ever, giving your daughter a party as lavish as this.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad you think so. Though Jane’s excitement doesn’t match yours.”
“Where is the lady of honor? I’d love to meet her.”
“You don’t know Jane? You’re not a friend of hers?” He frowned in confusion.
I pretended to look abashed. “Ah, no. Look, I know this is going to sound really strange, but I really wanted to meet you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because I read about you,” I blurted out, pretending to be a wide-eyed innocent. “You loaned your painting of Napoleon to the Frick last year and I never got to see it. It’s one of my biggest regrets in life. I’m a friend of Lord Arlington’s daughter, Elizabeth, and I begged him to bring me tonight so I could meet you. I now demand that you show me the painting!”
Lord Elliot chuckled, his gaze appreciative as it skimmed over me. “My, my, you are a bold one.”
“Forgive me for that. I’m a New Yorker. I come by it honestly.”
His laugh was booming and nearly deafening. “You are intriguing, my dear. I’d love to learn more about you.” His hand tightened ever so slightly on mine.
I flashed him a demure, yet just seductive enough smile. “I’d love to tell you more. Perhaps in a more private setting.”
Lord Elliot’s eyelids lowered in lust. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and before Lord Elliot could reply, Lord Arlington strolled towards us to rescue me from the moment. I had to tantalize Lord Elliot enough to leave him wanting more.
“Arlington, good to see you,” Lord Elliot said, attempting to mask his displeasure at being thwarted.
Lord Arlington smiled. “Ah, I see you met my charming companion.”
“She and I were just discussing her friendship with your lovely daughter,” Elliot remarked. “How is Elizabeth?”
The two men exchanged pleasantries about their families. As they continued to speak, Lord Elliot’s thin wife joined us. She looked as bitter as her husband looked approachable. They were as mismatched as any two people could be.
“This party is your creation,” I said to Lady Elliot. “Isn’t it?”
A reluctant smile flitted across Lady Elliot’s stoic face. “Yes. I love event planning.”
“Well, it shows,” I said. “It’s just lovely.”
Lord Arlington and I excused ourselves from the conversation since Lord and Lady Elliot were being sought out by other guests. I made sure to lock eyes with Lord Elliot. He inclined his head ever so slightly. I dropped my gaze and bit my lip.
“Well?” Lord Arlington asked as we turned away.
“Hook, line, sinker,” I said with a triumphant grin.
Chapter 10
My breasts ached and I felt them straining against the confines of my bra. I instinctively thought of Hawk, at home, taking his meal from a bottle. I felt like a rotten mother.
Biology was a bitch.
Shoving away thoughts of my child, I focused. Lord Elliot and I had been exchanging looks all evening across the room and it was time to reel him in. It was almost ten o’clock, and I had to get him into his study.
I conversed with Lord Arlington while holding a glass of champagne that I wasn’t drinking. I lifted the glass to my lips and said behind the flute, “Okay, he’s looking over at me. Excuse yourself to go find the restroom.”
“It’s too bad you’re American,” Lord Arlington said. “I think you would’ve had a great career as a British Secret Service agent.”
I mockingly raised an eyebrow and took a small sip of champagne while I watched Lord Arlington depart. The champagne was crisp and tart and I didn’t like the taste at all. I handed the flute off to a passing waiter. My nerves twitched.
“Champagne isn’t your drink of choice?” Lord Elliot asked as he came to my side.
“A little weak,” I said with a grin.
“I know where you can get something stronger,” he said.
“Oh?”
“My study. Where I keep the Napoleon painting.” He lowered his eyes to my mouth.
“I’d like a real drink,” I whispered huskily.
He gave me directions to find the study, but I already knew where it was. Flynn and I had memorized the layout of Elliot’s house. Just in case.
“I’ll join you in five minutes,” Elliot said, his mouth close to my ear, his breath grazing my skin.
“Can’t wait,” I lied breathlessly.
Leaving the main room, I quickly found my way to the study. I had my clutch with me so that Flynn and I could make a quick escape. Lord Elliot’s study was steadfastly English with leather chesterfields, heavy furniture that could only be lifted by four young, burly men, and dark drapes that were currently pulled back to reveal the manicured lawns on the side of the townhouse. The Napoleon paint
ing took up an entire wall from floor to ceiling. It truly was a work of art.
I heard the door open but didn’t turn.
“Like it?” Lord Elliot asked.
“It’s beautiful.”
He trailed a finger down my arm. “Yes, it is. Can I get you a drink?” he asked, heading to the liquor cart.
“Scotch. Neat, please.”
He peered at me with interest. “Should’ve known you were a scotch drinker.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Just fits with your personality. You know what you want and you go after it.”
“Do you, Lord Elliot? Go after what you want?”
His brown eyes dilated with lust. “Yes, I do.” He poured two glasses of scotch and brought one to me. He clinked our glasses together.
“Cheers,” he said.
My clutch vibrated. “Excuse me just a second,” I said. “I need to check my phone.”
It was a text from Flynn telling me he was delayed and that I needed to stall. Fantastic. Shoving the phone back in my clutch, I gave Lord Elliot a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
“Everything all right?” Elliot inquired politely.
“Oh, fine. I hate that I am so tethered to this thing. I wish we didn’t need them, you know?”
He nodded. “Technology comes with a certain set of problems.”
“People expect you to be available at all hours. Your time isn’t your own.”
“So get rid of it.”
“Can’t do that. Wish I could, but I can’t.”
Elliot nodded thoughtfully. He set his glass down and peered at me. “Should we stop this feigned flirting?”
“Feigned?” I asked with sham innocence.
“Let’s get right to the matter.”
I frowned in genuine confusion. “Matter? What matter?”
He smiled, and for the first time it wasn’t a jovial, absent pull of his lips. It was knowing and cunning. “Tell me, Mrs. Campbell, why you’re really here.”
Elliot knew my name. My married name. How?
What the hell could I say? Flynn and I had been operating on the assumption that Elliot had no idea about my true identity. That theory was shot to shit. Obviously.
