Sylvia Day - [Georgian 02]

by Passion for the Game

  More shouting. More running. Swords clashed and Miss Pool’s screams pierced the night.

  “There she is!” someone shouted.

  The ground rushed by beneath her.

  “Over here!”

  Benny’s voice was music to her ears. Colin altered direction. Lifting her head, she caught a glimpse of pursuers, and then more men intercepted them; some she recognized, others she didn’t. The new additions to the fray bought them precious time and soon she could not see anyone on their heels.

  A moment later she was set on her feet. Wild-eyed, she glanced around to catch her bearings and found Benny on horseback and Colin mounting the back of another beast.

  “Amelia!” He held out one hand to her, the other expertly holding the reins. She set her hand in his, and he dragged her up and over, belly down across his lap. His powerful thighs bunched beneath her as he spurred the horse and then they were off, galloping through the night.

  She hung on for dear life, her stomach heaving with the jolting impacts. But it did not last long. Just as they reached the open road, a shot rang out, echoing through the darkness. Colin jerked and cried out. She screamed as her entire world shifted.

  Sliding, falling.

  Until she crashed to the ground.

  Then there was nothing.

  Christopher woke to warmth and softness. The scents of sex and Maria permeated both the air and the linens beneath him. She lay draped over him, her leg over his, her arm across his torso, her ripe, luscious breasts pressed to his side. He reached down and adjusted the sheet tented over his morning cockstand.

  The only words they had exchanged over the long night were love words, sex words. Nothing of pain, betrayal, and lies. It was entirely against his nature to avoid the unpleasant, and because Maria was so like him, he knew it was against her nature as well. But they had an unspoken agreement to say with their bodies what they would not say aloud.

  Turning his head, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She murmured sleepily and cuddled closer. A snuggling kitten could not have been more adorable.

  He ran his free hand through his hair and formulated his plan. There was only one way to ascertain her loyalty. He had to test her, provide her with an obvious way to betray him and then see if she took the opportunity.

  Her mouth touched his chest in a soft kiss.

  His gaze caught hers.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked softly.

  “You.”

  Sadly, it appeared the bright light of morning was too great an intrusion. There was a heavy weight of wariness between them.

  “Christopher . . .”

  He waited for her to speak and then it seemed that she changed her mind.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I wish there were no secrets between us.” Her hand stroked over his chest. “You said you would tell me whatever I wished to know.”

  “And I shall.” He looked up at the reflection of them together and knew he wanted to wake up in this manner every day. “I beg your company this evening. Primitive man that I am, I have ruined two of your gowns, and I cannot live with myself without making amends.”

  “Oh?” She rose up beside him, her hair a delightfully ruined tumble of dark tresses and strings of pearls. He smiled, remembering his thoughts in the theater about her being too concerned with her appearance to enjoy a good, hard fucking. How wrong he had been.

  He hoped he wasn’t wrong about the depth of her affection for him. Tonight he would know the truth.

  “There is a place here in Town where I store goods,” he said. “I should like to take you there. There are some lovely Parisian silks and linens that I would like to show you. Once you have selected your favorites, I can make restitution for your maltreated garments.”

  Her lovely face impassive, she asked, “When will you answer my questions?”

  He gave an exaggerated sigh. “You are supposed to be overjoyed at this display of my largesse. Instead you wish to pick at my brain.”

  “Perhaps I find your brain more intriguing than gowns,” she purred. “That would be a compliment, you know.”

  “Very well. If we manage the evening without mishap, I will sit at your service and bare my every secret to you.”

  And he would. If she did not betray him tonight, he would bare his heart to her, and perhaps, if he was fortunate, the vision he saw above him would indeed be the one that greeted him every morning for the rest of his life.

  Maria knew it was not a coincidence that Lord Eddington arrived within an hour of her return. He was watching her, following her. Driving her mad.

  “I will receive him,” she said when advised of the earl’s call. A moment later, Eddington entered her private sitting room with a smug curve to his smile that she found more than slightly alarming. Maria feigned nonchalance and affected a lazy smile. “Good afternoon, my lord.”

  “My dearest,” he murmured, lifting her hand to his lips.

  She studied him carefully but found nothing amiss in his customary flawless exterior.

  “Tell me something worthwhile,” he said.

  “I do wish there were something to tell.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately, St. John was less forthcoming than I had hoped.”

  “Hmm.” He adjusted his tails, then relaxed into the settee. “You did not tell me you had a sibling.”

  Maria froze, her heart stilling before racing madly. “Beg your pardon?”

  “I said, I was not aware that you had a sister.”

  Unable to remain seated, she stood. “What do you know?”

  “Very little, sadly. I do not even know her name.” His gaze hardened. “But I know where she is, and I have men there to fetch her, if necessary.”

  Something inside Maria turned hard and brittle. “You tread on dangerous ground, my lord.”

  The earl pushed to his feet and closed the small distance between them. “Give me something,” he bit out. “Anything that I can use, and your sister will be safe.”

  “That is not sufficient to relieve my concerns.” Her chin lifted with no more strength behind it than pure bravado. In truth, her breathing was so shallow that she felt as if she could faint. “I want to see her with my own eyes.”

  “She will be untouched and unaware, if you follow through with your end of our bargain.”

  “I want her here!” Her fists clenched at her own helplessness. Amelia . . . “Bring her to me. Then I will give you whatever your heart desires, I swear it.”

  “You have already promised to give me—” Eddington paused. His gaze narrowed. “There is more behind your demand than mistrust.”

  Maria’s stomach knotted, but outwardly she arched her brow in an icy show of disdain.

  The earl caught her chin and tilted it from side to side, examining her. “I suspect you don’t know,” he murmured pensively. “How many secrets do you have?”

  She yanked free of his grip. “Do you know her location or not?”

  “By God . . .” Eddington whistled and sank heavily onto the settee. “I’ve no notion of what is transpiring in your life, but let us dispense with the lies for a moment.” He gestured to the opposite sofa. “Sit.”

  Maria complied only because her legs were shaking too much to support her safely.

  “Does Welton know where his daughter is?”

  She nodded. “He keeps her.”

  “But her location is unknown to you?” His eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Is that the hold he has on you?”

  She said nothing.

  “I can assist you in return for the service you provide to me.” Eddington bent low, resting his forearms on his thighs. “I know where your sister is. You must know something about St. John that will help me catch him. This can be a mutually beneficial association.”

  “You wish to use her against me, as Welton does.” Her hands fisted in her lap. “If anything untoward happens to her, you will pay dearly. I promise you that.”

  “Maria.” It was the first occa
sion the earl had ever used her first name and the familiarity shook her, as he most likely intended. “Your position is untenable. You know this. I can achieve my aims without helping you. Accept my terms. They are more than fair.”

  “Nothing about this is fair, my lord. Nothing.”

  “Your trust is safer with me than it is with St. John.”

  “You do not know him.”

  “Neither do you,” he argued. “I am not the only one who knows where Lady Amelia is. St. John knows as well.”

  Her smile was mocking. “Ply your wiles on someone more gullible than I.”

  “By what means do you think I found her? I sent agents to investigate Welton because of his connection to you. St. John’s men were ahead of us, making inquiries of their own. They discovered your sister. The pursuing agents simply followed.”

  She frowned, considering, looking back on the last few days with examining eyes.

  “Damn you.” The earl’s hands fisted at his knees. “I believed you would be a match for St. John, but he has deceived you as well.”

  “I am not so easily goaded that you can toss out such an accusation and I will accept it on its face. My doubt in your claim does not mean that St. John has my sympathies or loyalty, only that between the two of you, I see a great deal of similarity. In this case, is there a lesser of two evils?”

  “Be reasonable,” he cajoled. “I strive for the good of England. St. John strives for his own selfish welfare. Surely that gives me some advantage?”

  Her mouth curved disdainfully.

  “Maria. Surely there is some tidbit you can pass on to me that will implicate St. John in illegal activities or will provide some clue about that witness. Is there anyone you might have seen visiting St. John, someone he has talked about? Think carefully. Your sister’s fate lies in the balance.”

  Weary of it all and heartsick, she knew she had to bring this triangle to its conclusion. She could not go on like this. It was too draining, and she needed what little energy she had remaining to bring Amelia safely home. “He has asked me to accompany him this evening,” she whispered. “He has smuggled goods stored nearby.”

  “He will take you there?”

  She nodded. “I pity you if you arrest him for smuggling. The people will riot.”

  “Leave that concern to me,” he said, with obvious excitement. “You just lead the way.”

  Christopher cursed under his breath. “You are certain that was what he said? That he ordered the capture of Amelia?”

  “Yes.” Tim nodded. “They were speaking low, but I heard it clear. They are awaiting word now. Eddington didn’t say as much to Lady Winter. He said he was watching her sister, not nabbing ’er.”

  “We can only hope that Walter, Sam, and the others were able to fend them off,” Philip said.

  “Hope is too fickle to base assumption on,” Christopher argued. “To be safe, we must assume that Eddington was successful.”

  “So how will you proceed?” Philip’s gaze was sympathetic behind his spectacles.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Christopher settled his hip more securely against the front of his desk. “I will offer myself to Eddington in trade.”

  “By God, no!” Tim roared. “She means to betray you.”

  “What choice does she have?” Christopher countered.

  “Eddington is an agent,” Philip said. “I doubt he would hurt the girl.”

  “I have my doubts, as well. But by law, he should return the girl to Welton and I think he will, if Maria does not provide the assistance he has demanded of her.” Christopher looked at Tim. “Return to Lady Winter, but escort her to me this evening.”

  “You would sacrifice yourself for her benefit, when she will not do the same for you?” Tim asked in obvious outrage.

  Christopher offered a slight smile. How could he explain? How could he put into words the greater weight he gave to Maria’s happiness than to his own? Yes, he could confront her with his knowledge of Eddington, but where would that leave them? He could not proceed with his life knowing he had thrown her to the wolves, leaving her at the mercy of Welton and Eddington and men like Sedgewick who wished to harm her.

  “Philip and my solicitor are aware of the steps I have set in place to see to the welfare of all of you, should something untoward happen to me.”

  “I care naught about that!” Tim argued. “’Tis your welfare that concerns me.”

  “Thank you, my friend.” Christopher smiled. “I am grateful.”

  “No.” Tim shook his head. “Yer daft. Lost yer mind o’er a woman. Never thought to see the day.”

  “You have said that Lady Winter refused him information until he baited her with her sister. I hold no blame on her for this. She truly has no other choice if she has any hope of reclaiming her sibling.”

  “She could choose you,” Tim muttered.

  Hiding his pain, Christopher gestured for them to leave him. “Go now. I have some matters to arrange.”

  The men departed reluctantly, and Christopher sank into his seat behind the desk and released his breath. Who would have thought his relationship with Maria would end like this?

  Regardless, he could not find the will to regret their affair. He had been happy for a time.

  For that, he would gladly pay whatever cost was required.

  Chapter 21

  The ride to the St. John residence felt as Maria imagined a ride to Tyburn would feel.

  Somewhere behind her, Eddington and other agents followed.

  The knowledge ate at her with a viciousness that caused her physical pain. She wanted Amelia back more than anything in the world, but her heart told her the price she would pay was too great.

  There was no escaping how deeply attached she was to St. John. Despite all of the things she had discovered about him over the length of their liaison, she could only seem to dwell on his kindnesses—his handling of Templeton, his concern over her injury, the way he made love to her.

  As she exited the carriage and stared up at Christopher’s house with its empty planters and burly guards, the minute details of their association filled her mind. Heated moments and tender ones. Moments of comfortable silences and moments of verbal sparring. They shared a startling affinity and similar pasts.

  Lifting her skirts, Maria ascended the short steps without haste and swept through the waiting open door. Many of those who lived under his protection lined the downstairs, watching her gravely, their eyes dipping to the foil in her hand. Her gaze met each and every one of theirs, challenging them to interfere.

  None did.

  She climbed the main staircase to reach Christopher’s bedroom and knocked on the door. When she heard his voice call out to her, she entered.

  Christopher stood before the mirror, shrugging into a beautifully embroidered waistcoat that was held out by his valet. The colorful floral pattern was a lovely accent to his butter yellow breeches and the matching jacket that hung on the nearby rack. The entire ensemble reminded her of their first meeting in the theater, and her chin lifted.

  “I have something to tell you.”

  Christopher’s gaze met hers in the reflection, then he caught sight of her weapon. With a low murmur, he dismissed the servant and faced her. “Why, Lady Winter, had I known my lover would send you in her stead, I would have dressed warmer.”

  “Your garments are perfect.” Her mouth curved. “Less material between the tip of my blade and your skin.”

  “Do you mean to run me through?”

  “I might.”

  He raked her with a skeptical glance.

  “I urge you not to think of my skirts as an advantage in your favor. I have trained as much in gowns as I have breeches.”

  His hands came up in a signal of surrender. “Pray tell, fair lady, what service can I provide that would spare me from certain death?”

  Maria set the tip in the Aubusson rug and rested her hand casually atop the hilt. “Do you love me?”

  Christopher’s brow
arched. “Gads. How unsporting of you to solicit a declaration of love under duress.”

  Her foot tapped impatiently.

  He smiled and stopped her heart. “I adore you, my love. I worship you. I would kiss your feet and supplicate myself for your favors. I offer you all that I have—my vast riches, my many ships, my cock, which weeps for your attentions—”

  “Enough.” She shook her head. “That was odious.”

  “Oh? I should like to see you do better.”

  “Very well. I love you.”

  “That’s it?” His arms crossed, but his eyes were soft and warm. “That is all you have to say?”

  “Stay home tonight.”

  He tensed. “Maria?”

  She inhaled deeply, then released her breath in a rush. “You asked me many times what association I have with Eddington. He is an agent of the Crown, Christopher. He is out there now, waiting to follow us and catch you in the thick of things.”

  He stared at her pensively. “I see.”

  “I know about Sedgewick.”

  When he opened his mouth, she held up her hand. “No explanations. I mention it only because Simon found the witness. Sedgewick demanded the man’s cooperation as ransom for the safety of his family—a wife, two sons, and a daughter. Tim and several men freed them. The viscount has nothing against you now.”

  His brows dipped together in a deep frown. “You render me speechless.”

  “Good. I prefer not to be interrupted. I was told that you know about Amelia.” Her voice was shakier than she would have liked. “That you found her and are watching her. Is that true?”

  “That is my hope, yes.” He stared at her with fathomless eyes. “I have asked for a firm identification before bringing the news to you. I did not want to raise your hopes needlessly.”

  “Where is she?”

  “If the girl I know of is indeed your sibling, she is in Lincolnshire.”

  “Thank you.” Maria tugged up her blade and paused before turning away. “Be careful,” she said softly, her hand over her heart. “I wish you well, Christopher. Godspeed.” She moved toward the door.

  “Maria.”