Masterful Truth

by Mari Carr

  Franco was looking at the last letter. “Actually, I think we might have a shot at hearing the rest of the story.”

  “What is that?” Devon asked.

  Franco turned the envelope toward Juliette, who leaned closer, her eyes widening. “That can’t be.”

  “What?” Isaiah asked.

  “This one is addressed to the Grand Master.” Juliette took the letter from Franco, ignoring his pained squeaks when she pulled the letter out with her bare fingers.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed. “It’s from the Masters’ Empire.” She skimmed the letter, shaking her head. “They knew who Grace Hughes was. Knew she was Washington’s daughter and a spy. This letter says traitors will be punished.”

  Juliette gasped as she read the last, falling into the chair as she covered her mouth. “It says they killed her and the baby, George Washington’s grandson.”

  “The statues,” Isaiah said, recalling Tess’ comment about all the clues having double meanings. “They were of a mother and her son. Another clue pointing us toward Grace?”

  Tess nodded slowly, clearly agreeing. “I think so.”

  “There’s more to the letter. It says the contents of the package will serve as a warning not to cross the Emperor of Britain ever again.” Juliette read aloud, “Britain is, and shall always remain, the world’s greatest empire.”

  “Who was the Emperor at the time? Is it signed?” Devon asked.

  Juliette shook her head. “No. We could ask Marek. Maybe he or his grandmother would know.”

  Franco pulled his glasses off, absentmindedly cleaning them with the hem of his shirt. “I’m not sure the Emperor’s identity matters. We were at war and the British Emperor was against the revolution. It’s natural he would take that anger out on the first president of a nation he believed should never have been born and his daughter, the spy, who’d been instrumental in Britain’s defeat. What’s really important, and what we’ll never know, is what was in that package.” Franco sighed.

  “Actually, we do know. It’s written here at the bottom. Different handwriting.” Juliette looked at Adams’ journal and pointed to the poem. “This handwriting.”

  Franco waved his hands impatiently. “John Adams adding a note to a letter delivered to the Grand Master isn’t really a big reveal, Juliette…Adams. What does it say?”

  Juliette’s face was visibly pale as she read, “The sight of his beloved daughter’s severed head is something our president shall never see.”

  Tess shook her head. “No. That can’t be. They mailed the Grand Master Grace’s head? What kind of monsters murder a woman like that?”

  “The same kind as us.” Juliette looked at Devon. “They beheaded a woman, killed a baby. We sank a boatful of children.”

  Devon pulled a chair out and sank into it heavily. “Dammit, we aren’t monsters, Juliette.”

  Juliette recited several lines from the poem from memory. “Nay will we e’er forgive British slight or forget the young king t’was taken. Evil steal thy Washington birthright. They killed Grace and George Washington’s grandson. We’ve solved the mystery.”

  “It’s not going to be enough,” Devon muttered.

  “It has to be. And even if it’s not…” Juliette lifted her hand to tally up the list, “I have more than that. I have three more of the stolen paintings, two sculptures and the Hancocks, the last of the purists. It will be enough.”

  Devon glanced Caden’s way. “What about him?”

  Caden scowled and Isaiah felt an uneasiness creeping in.

  “What about me?” Caden demanded.

  Devon rubbed his jaw wearily. “The Masters’ Admiralty wants you.”

  Caden scoffed, the sound coming out as a bark of laughter. “Yeah, right.”

  When Franco, Juliette, and Devon remained silent, Caden’s scowl grew and he leaned forward. “Why?”

  Devon started to reply, but Juliette placed her hand on his and shook her head. “He should hear it from me. We went to see the Masters’ Admiralty a few weeks ago.”

  Caden crossed his arms. “I know.”

  “We returned the artwork in our possession at that time and tried to assure them that with the death of your parents, the purists had been taken care of. We also told them about your grandmother.”

  Tess leaned toward Caden. “What about your grandmother?” she whispered.

  Caden looked at her and shook his head. “I don’t have a clue.”

  Juliette answered her question. “Eileen Mayweather was one of the children on the ship the Nazis sank. The only one to survive. She was adopted by Captain Prosser, who was captain of the ship that sank the Esperanza,” Juliette said softly.

  “My mother’s name was Victoria Prosser,” Caden replied in a neutral monotone.

  Juliette nodded. “Your grandmother was the only survivor from the ship the purists sank. That, not the art, was the real secret they were hiding. If the Masters’ Admiralty ever figured out that the purists had the art, they planned to use your mother, and you, and Weston, as bargaining chips, hostages, to protect themselves from retribution.”

  After so much time spent in Caden’s presence, Isaiah should have been used to his partner’s stoicism, his incredible poker face. Caden remained motionless—emotionless—despite the bomb Juliette just dropped about his heritage. Of course, maybe that was just shock. It had taken Isaiah weeks before the realization had sunk in that his ancestry included a president and his slave.

  Tess glanced in Isaiah’s direction. He expected to see her usual humor whenever the plot thickened, but this time he saw something else.

  Something he didn’t like.

  Fear.

  Juliette leaned back, exhaustion rife in her eyes. “You have relatives in the Admiralty. They believe that you belong there, with them. That you would have been a legacy of that organization if not for the treachery of our membership.”

  “He doesn’t belong there,” Isaiah said firmly, his heart racing. Up until a few minutes ago, he’d been tired too, but now…he was wide awake. “He belongs here.”

  “With us,” Tess added vehemently.

  Caden gave them both a ghost of a smile. “I can’t believe they would embrace me with open arms, given my…” He sighed, clearly searching for a word, then just said it. “Shady dealings with the purists. I’m the one who brokered a lot of the black-market deals with their stolen artwork.”

  “There’s also the matter of you blowing up that boat,” Devon added.

  “They know about that?” Caden asked.

  Devon nodded, then muttered, “Fucking Ian Taggart.”

  Caden sighed. “So what they really want is revenge. Justice. They want to kill me.”

  Isaiah stood, stepping closer to Caden. “That’s not going to happen. They’ll have to go through me.”

  “And me,” Tess said, claiming Caden’s other side, the two of them flanking him protectively.

  Juliette lifted both her hands to ward off their anger. “Maybe, maybe not. Maybe you would be better off there, with them.” Her gaze hardened. “But I’m not giving you to the Admiralty. I bound him to the two of you,” she looked at Tess and Isaiah, “to protect him.” She studied them, grinning at their fight-to-the-death stances. “Looks like I chose well.”

  The Grand Master placed her palms on the table, using her hands to push her up. “So…the task is completed, the mystery solved. Which means it’s time we make this marriage official. Report to the dressing rooms, robe up, and meet me in the altar room.” Devon and Franco each took one of their wife’s hands and the three of them left the room together.

  “Wait,” Tess said, looking at Isaiah and Caden stunned. “What?”

  Isaiah laughed softly at her shocked confusion. “We’re getting married, Tess.”

  “Tonight? But…I’m still wearing Cade’s T-shirt and these stupid baggy sweatpants we found on the plane and my hair is a mess. Not only does my underwear not match, I’m not wearing any!”

  Isaiah pull
ed her close, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. “You’re beautiful, Tess. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He kissed her gently. Then rolled his eyes when Caden tugged her out of his arms, cupped her cheeks firmly and said, “Ditto.”

  Caden’s kisses were rarely soft. The man took her lips like he meant it. And then he shocked Isaiah by reaching over to grab him, giving him the same unmistakable passion.

  “Come on,” Caden said, dragging Tess toward the door, jerking his head for Isaiah to follow in his typical dominant fashion. “I’m going to need you two to say I do to save me from the bad guys once and for all.”

  “Thought you said you were the bad guy,” Isaiah teased.

  Caden paused. “You’re right. You already saved me. So what I really need is to get this wedding over with so we can jump straight to the good stuff.”

  Tess grinned. “The honeymoon.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Grand Master was in the altar room when Caden stepped out of the dressing room. Unlike the first time they were here, Caden was the first to arrive. He stepped up to the altar and winked at Juliette.

  She was wearing her ceremonial robe, the material black with gold trim. The hood was pulled up to conceal her face, but her soft laughter proved she’d seen him and was amused.

  “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but—” he started.

  “Shhh,” Juliette said. “That’s in the past. Actually, all of it is in the past now, Caden. Tonight is about the future. Only that.”

  He shook his head. “No. Not just that.”

  The sound of the other doors opened, Isaiah and Tess emerging, both dressed in robes, and so perfect they took his breath away.

  He spared a quick glance away from them to face Juliette to explain. “It’s about love too.”

  She gave him a quick nod, but that was all he waited to see. From now on, he only had eyes for them. Even beneath the black robe, there was no mistaking Isaiah’s masculine build, his strong arms, muscular chest. He was the first man Caden had ever looked at with definite sexual attraction. He’d be the last too. Husbands. Bound together for a lifetime. It was strange how that concept had seemed scary as shit a couple of weeks earlier.

  None of them had bothered to pull up their hoods, and Caden was glad. He wanted to see their faces, read their expressive, incredible eyes. He’d spent too many years of his life with people wearing masks, working overtime to conceal their feelings. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—go back to that world again. From now on, he wanted to wake up every morning to Isaiah’s easy laughter and Tess’ refreshing openness.

  Tess joined them in the circle. She had obviously found a brush and some pins because her hair was fixed in a pretty, simple updo. He couldn’t wait to mess it up again, to wrap his fingers around it and tug until her eyes drifted shut and she mewed that soft little squeak that never failed to make his cock hard.

  Damn. He’d given his R-rated thoughts away. Tess blushed as she studied his face and whispered, “Behave.”

  Isaiah chuckled. “But only until we get back to the hotel. Then it’s game on.”

  Juliette cleared her throat, her eyebrows raised. “If the three of you are ready, we’ll begin. You are here to be formally bound in the marriage of the Trinity Masters.”

  The Grand Master said a bunch more words, but Caden heard very few of them. In fact, he heard exactly six. His “I do,” and those of Tess and Isaiah.

  Caden was the first to cross the medallion on the floor to kiss his bride and groom. Since he’d made such a mess of it at the binding ceremony, he decided to make up for it this time. He had no idea how long the three of them stood there, kissing, touching, breathing the same beautiful air, but when they parted, Caden realized the Grand Master was gone.

  “We did it,” Tess whispered.

  Caden nodded. “Time for the good stuff?”

  Isaiah grabbed both their hands. “Hotel. Honeymoon. Now.”

  Epilogue

  Two months later

  Juliette leaned back in her office chair and sighed. For the first time since she’d taken possession of this office, she felt a sense of peace. More than that, she finally felt like she could do this job.

  She grinned as she recalled Arthur’s visit to Boston…without his princess. This time, she’d made him come to her. He had been unaware of the Empire’s actions during the war, obviously distressed to learn the lengths to which his Emperor would go to punish someone after the war was won.

  He had accepted her at her word when she’d assured him the Hancocks were the last of the purists, and he was grateful to have even more of the remaining artwork returned. She had no idea what would become of Jayce and Priscilla Hancock, but she couldn’t work up too much regret in handing them over to the Admiralty. Given the look of pure fury on Arthur’s face when they were loaded onto the private plane, she didn’t doubt for a moment they’d suffer for their crimes and beg for death by the end.

  She sighed.

  Arthur hadn’t been pleased when he realized she’d deliberately bound Caden in a trinity after their meeting in London. She’d known that was a risk, and she’d had to pay a steep price. She hadn’t told anyone, even Devon, that in order to keep Arthur and the Masters’ Admiralty from declaring outright war, she’d had to give him a complete list of all members of the Trinity Masters.

  What he’d wanted was the list of purists and purist descendants. Arthur said the Masters’ Admiralty wouldn’t retaliate against those people, but she didn’t believe him. That wasn’t quite right. She was sure Arthur believed there wouldn’t be retaliation, but she didn’t trust his wife, or anyone else in the Masters’ Admiralty. She would protect people like Grant, even if it meant turning over the entire membership roster.

  Just thinking about it made her feel ill. Arthur has promised that their names wouldn’t be shared outside the Masters’ Admiralty’s leadership, but she had no idea how many people that might be.

  Now they knew every member of the Trinity Masters, and she barely knew anything about the Masters’ Admiralty.

  But in the end, the Trinity Masters and the Masters’ Admiralty had forged an alliance of sorts. An unsteady one that basically said they would stay out of the Admiralty’s way if the Admiralty stayed out of theirs. For now, that was enough. The guillotine was no longer poised over her head, waiting to fall. And she could breathe easy for the first time in months.

  There was a light knock before the door swung open.

  “Juliette?”

  “I’m here, Franco.”

  Her beloved husband stepped into the office. She rose, crossing the room to hug him. It was a silly impulse, considering she’d seen him at breakfast not three hours earlier. They’d traveled to headquarters together, where he had headed to his cramped office, surrounded by stacks of files. She joked he was in serious danger of death by paper avalanche.

  Meanwhile, she’d spent most of the morning pretending to work, while reliving last night’s revelry with Franco and Devon. It had started on the kitchen table, then continued with sex against the hallway wall, with a brief, heated, steamy interlude in the shower that ended with an encore in their large California-king bed.

  As Franco returned her embrace, he let her hands drift down to squeeze her ass. It was nearly lunchtime.

  “Should we call Devon and see if he’s interested in a little afternoon delight?”

  It wasn’t until Franco hesitated that she realized he was distracted.

  “Franco?”

  “Maybe you should sit down, Juliette.”

  She narrowed her eyes as she stepped away from him. “I’m happy, Franco. Blissfully so. If you’ve come in here to kill my buzz, I’ll kill you. I have people. It would only take one phone call.”

  Franco knew her well enough to know she was joking…more’s the pity. “I was going through one of the older filing cabinets, looking to see if there was any more information to be found on Grace Hughes in our files, when I came upon somethin
g that has me concerned.”

  He handed her a yellowed sheet of paper so old, she couldn’t believe it wasn’t crumbling in her hand.

  Juliette scanned it, her eyes widening. “Shit,” she whispered.

  Franco’s face was solemn. “I know.”

  He had indeed killed her buzz.

  Juliette crossed back to her desk, sinking heavily in her chair. “I’d ask what you recommend, but I already know what you’re going to say. We have another task.”

  He nodded.

  She sighed heavily. “Fine. Bring me the membership files. It’s time to call the next trinity.”

  Read more about the world of the Trinity Masters…

  Elemental Pleasure

  * * *

  Trinity Masters, book 1

  * * *

  A dangerous Marine. A tech genius. A brilliant scientist.

  * * *

  When Carly Kenan joined the secretive Trinity Masters in college, she received entrée to an exclusive club that gave her access to wealth and power. But there’s a price all members must pay—they accept an arranged marriage, between not two, but three people.

  * * *

  Ordered to return to the Trinity Masters’ headquarters in Boston, Carly meets Marine Lance Glassco, a mathematician for DARPA, and Preston Kim, a dangerously intelligent chemist.

  Though on the surface they have nothing in common, it’s clear the Grand Master thinks that together the three of them can do something amazing. And that’s why he’s declared that Carly, Lance and Preston must marry.

  * * *

  Though the physical attraction is instantaneous and incendiary, Carly is unprepared for the emotional intensity of the ménage relationship. Pushed beyond her limits, Carly runs from Lance and Preston. What she doesn’t understand is that she now belongs to them, body and soul…and they belong to her.