by Laura Landon
“Why did you stop?”
She shook her head. “I only wanted—”
“Wanted what?”
Claire swallowed hard and forced herself to hold his gaze. If he believed nothing else they’d ever shared, she wanted him to believe this. “I just wanted it to be like before. Just once more.”
With a heart she was certain was breaking, she took another step away from him. “Tilly should have Lady Huntingdon’s trunks unpacked. I’m going to see if she has the papers with her. If she does, I’ll send them down. Perhaps it isn’t too late to salvage at least that much from this disaster.”
Claire walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. She suddenly felt very alone and frightened and closed off from the rest of the world. As if she’d been set adrift in a small, fragile boat upon an ocean fraught with danger and hostile threats.
And she knew the last thing on earth she wanted was to be left alone . . . separated from the one man who possessed her heart and made her feel safe and whole.
Sam leaned his shoulder against the window in Hunt’s study and waited for Claire to come down with the necklace and papers. His mind roiled in a whirlwind of confusion. How could Hunt have married her, knowing full well he already had a wife? How could he have used her so cruelly, taking her as his wife, yet never making her his wife?
Everything he was learning about the man he’d admired tarnished his perfection. Disobeying the orders they’d been given was a dishonest move. Pitting himself against a man as dangerous as Roseneau was a stupid thing to do. But the worst was what he’d done to Claire. Marrying her when he wasn’t free to do so was a sin Sam wasn’t sure he could forgive. And Hunt tumbled from the pedestal where Sam had mentally placed him.
Sam pushed away from the window and took another long swallow of the brandy he’d poured himself. His initial assumption was that it was her fault that she was still a virgin. That she had never allowed Hunt to make her his wife.
Bloody hell, if Hunt were here now, he’d beat him within an inch of his life. He’d make him pay for every day he’d made Claire feel inadequate. For every day she’d believed she was a woman no man could love. Because she wasn’t. And he knew it because he—
His breath caught in his throat, and a weight heavier than the world itself was suddenly lifted from his chest. A weight that contained a lifetime of hopelessness and yearning and unfulfilled desires. A weight filled with the dark aloneness that had always made up his life. And in its place he was given the air he needed to breathe and the sun he needed to survive, including every emotion he’d denied he was capable of feeling. Most especially, love.
He dropped his head back on his shoulders and grinned a heartwarming smile. Yes, love. The love a man feels for a woman. The protective giving and sharing that makes a person whole. The love he knew he felt for Claire. A love that assured him that nothing was more important than that she be at his side and in his arms for the rest of his life. When this whole mess was over, he’d tell her.
Then, he’d help her when she was forced to come face to face with the wife and family Hunt had left behind. And together they’d weather whatever was in store for them and forge a future filled with everything they’d both gone a lifetime without.
As soon as he knew the identity of the traitor.
Sam paced the room, checking the clock on the mantel, waiting for her to come down with the necklace and the papers the Marchioness of Huntingdon had brought with her.
It would be over soon. The British representatives would have the necklace, and Sam would have the papers Hunt had taken and could begin deciphering them to figure out the identity of the traitor.
But first he had to free the Marquess of Halverston. The plan was in motion. He’d sent Linscott with instructions to have agents surround the Ambassadors Hotel where Roseneau was staying. Once he knew the necklace was in McCormick’s hands, Sam would handle Roseneau on his own. He couldn’t promise Claire her brother’s life wouldn’t be sacrificed to save the lives of thousands, but he’d do everything in his power to get him away from Roseneau.
Then, Sam would take Claire away from this madness and show her how special love between a man and woman could be. He’d give her all the things she’d been denied because Hunt couldn’t love her. He’d tell her how much he loved her, and spend every day for the rest of his life showering her with affection.
He remembered how she’d looked the night of Roseneau’s ball. How beautiful. How lucky he thought Hunt was and how envious he’d been of his friend. And he remembered how terrified he’d been when he’d rescued her that night Roseneau’s henchman almost killed her. How afraid he’d been that he hadn’t gotten to her in time. That the bastard had hurt her. That was when he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life protecting her, taking care of her. Only he hadn’t recognized the feelings for what they were.
It wasn’t until he saw her in the garden with her brother that he knew how much he loved her. That he realized how much it hurt to think she loved someone else. How much he wanted her for himself. That he wouldn’t let anyone else have her.
And Sam knew she felt the same.
She couldn’t have kissed him with such desperation if she didn’t. Wouldn’t have made love to him with such passion. And yet, something about the way she’d pulled out of his arms just now bothered him. Something he couldn’t explain. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.
Maybe it was fear. Fear because of all Hunt had put her through. Fear for her brother’s safety. Fear because of what she’d barely survived. But the words she’d spoken just before she’d left him wouldn’t go away.
I just wanted it to be like before. Just once more.
Just once more.
Sam didn’t know why those words should bother him, but there was something ominous about them. A warning he didn’t understand. Then he remembered the desperation in her kisses. The urgency. As if she were taking as much from him as she could one last time.
Just once more.
Bloody hell!
Sam glanced at the mantel clock, then raced across the room. She should have returned with the necklace and papers long ago. Tilly had had enough time to unpack Lady Huntingdon’s trunks ten times over. Why the hell had he given her so long?
Sam took the stairs two at a time, then raced down the long hallway until he reached the blue guest room. He pounded twice, then threw open the door and scanned the room.
“Where is she?”
Lady Huntingdon looked up from where she sat sipping a cup of tea. Her gaze darted to him, her eyes opening wide when the door slammed against the wall.
“Where is she?”
Hunt’s wife let out a startled gasp and set down her teacup with trembling hands, then reached for a packet of papers on the table. “She’s gone, but she told me to wait here for you, that you’d come to get these.” She held out the papers.
Sam felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach as he took the papers. “Where’d she go?”
“I’m not sure. She just asked me to wait here until you came.”
Sam’s blood pounded in his head. “Did she take anything with her when she left you?”
“Why, yes. A necklace. Brand gave it to me the last time I saw him. She said it was imperative it got into the right hands immediately.”
Sam felt the floor drop out from beneath him. He tucked the papers into his jacket and raced from the room, her words echoing in his head.
Just once more.
Chapter 29
Claire walked down the long hallway that would take her to Roseneau’s suite at the Ambassadors Hotel. She clutched her reticule close to her, knowing that hidden inside the red velvet pouch was the necklace that would save Alex’s life. And the object that would destroy any chance that Sam could love her. But what choice did she have? How could she live with herself, knowing she’d had the power to save Alex but hadn’t used it?
“Are you sure you don’t want to send for Major Bennett?” Watkins
said, as if her thoughts of Sam were evident for everyone to see.
Claire shook her head, knowing Sam would never let her take the chance she was taking today. That he would hate her when he realized what she’d done.
“No, Watkins. Major Bennett can’t help me with this.”
She heard Watkins’s heavy sigh and turned her head to glance over her shoulder. Watkins stood close. She was thankful he’d refused to stay with the carriage, had insisted on coming with her.
“Be careful, my lady.”
Claire smiled a tremulous smile and rapped on the door.
A tall, heavyset servant opened the door and looked down his long, thick nose to where she stood. Claire fought the uncomfortable shiver that raced down her spine.
“Please tell Monsieur Roseneau Lady Hunt—”
Claire stopped short when Roseneau appeared behind the intimidating servant.
“Ah, Lady Huntingdon,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking on his heels. “What a pleasure to see you.”
Claire let her gaze rest on her nemesis. Every fear she had slammed into her. Every possible conclusion as to how this might end flashed before her. What if she failed? She tried not to let the terror that raged through her show.
“Please, come in,” Roseneau said, welcoming her with effusive enthusiasm.
“Thank you, Monsieur Roseneau. My servant will, of course, accompany me.”
The corners of Roseneau’s mouth lifted in a sneering grin. “Of course. By all means. Can I get you a glass of wine?” he said when he’d seated her in a delicate plush blue velvet chair angled before a matching settee.
“No. Thank you.”
“I hope you don’t mind if I have a glass. In celebration, of course.”
Claire didn’t answer. She watched him pour a deep red burgundy wine into a glass and set the crystal decanter back on the table. She forced herself not to move away from him when he sat opposite her.
With a grin that caused Claire to shudder, he raised his hand in a mock toast, then lifted the glass to his lips and took a swallow.
When he finished, he leaned back against the cushion and casually rested the ankle of one leg over the opposite knee. “I assume your presence means I have reason to celebrate. That you have the necklace and have brought it to me . . . so near to the three o’clock deadline that will save your brother.”
Claire glanced at the clock on the mantel and silently whispered a prayer. It was ten minutes before the hour. Ten minutes before the deadline Roseneau had set.
“Where is he? I want to see him.”
Roseneau laughed. “Surely you don’t think I have him here.”
“Yes, I do. Where else would you have him? Especially since you probably realized I wouldn’t give you the necklace without proof he was still alive and well.”
Roseneau smiled, then took another sip of the wine in his glass. “Louis,” he said to the intimidating man standing at the side of the room, “please show the marquess in.”
The servant exited the room by a side door.
Roseneau leaned back against the cushion and let his iron-hard gaze burn through her. “This had better not be a trick, my lady. There is far too much resting on whether or not you have the necklace. I’ll not allow you to play games with me.”
“Believe me, Monsieur Roseneau. I am hardly interested in playing games. Not while you hold my brother.”
“Very wise.”
He lifted the glass to his lips again, then stopped when the door opened.
“Ah, there you are, Halverston. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Alex staggered into the room, his hands tied behind his back, his haunted eyes sunk deep above his cheekbones, his face dark with a multitude of bruises. He stayed on his feet only with Louis’s help.
A painful weight plummeted to the pit of her stomach when she saw what they’d done to him. “How dare you!”
She bolted to her feet and took a step toward Alex. Roseneau was on his feet in an instant and stopped her with a raise of his hand.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” he said, his voice a low growl. “The necklace, if you don’t mind.”
“Untie him first. I’ll not barter with my brother bound like a common criminal. He’s a peer of the realm and should be treated as such.”
Roseneau challenged her with a glare, but Claire didn’t back down. She couldn’t stand to see Alex mistreated one more second.
“Untie him!”
Roseneau cast a glance over his shoulder. “Untie him, Louis.”
The look on Alex’s face when the burly brute loosened his bonds was worth the effort it had taken to stand up to Roseneau. But the villain’s next words affected her like ice flowing through her veins.
“The necklace, Marchioness.”
“Don’t give it to him, Claire,” Alex said, his voice raspy and weak. “Not for me.”
Claire stared at her brother’s sallow complexion and lifted the corners of her mouth to form what she prayed came across as a confident smile.
“Claire, no,” Alex repeated.
She tore her gaze away from her brother. “Please, sit down, monsieur,” she said to Roseneau, indicating the settee where he’d sat before. She sat down in the chair. Her back was to Watkins, but she made sure Alex remained in view. With slow, deliberate movements, she reached into her reticule and brought out a small red velvet bag. She carefully placed it on her lap, keeping the opening toward her.
“No, Claire!” Alex ordered again. He tried to take a step closer, but Roseneau’s man stopped him.
“It’s all right, Alex. We don’t have a choice.”
“How right you are, my lady. Now . . .” Roseneau paused, yet didn’t lift his gaze from the reticule in her lap. “The necklace, if you don’t mind.”
“Claire! You can’t!”
Claire saw Alex struggle to free himself, but Roseneau’s man was too strong and Alex too weak.
With trembling hands, she pulled the gold cord to open the bag, then reached inside. She clasped her fingers around the cool metal and stopped. For one small second, she was consumed by doubts. For one small second she wasn’t sure she was brave enough to give the major up, because that would be the result if her plan failed. Because to the major, honor was everything. Sacrifice for the good of country; for the good of all that was important. It was the code by which he lived. Even if what had to be done meant sacrificing an innocent life. But Claire didn’t live by those rules.
To her, she had to do everything in her power to save Alex.
Alex hadn’t asked to be involved in this. He didn’t have anything to do with Roseneau or the necklace or the papers or the traitor. He was the innocent one in all this. The one being asked to sacrifice his life for what Hunt had done.
A violent tremor consumed her. Hunt and the major were the risk-takers. They lived by a code she couldn’t understand. While she was the one left to put things to right. The one with the jewels to pay as a ransom. How could she live with herself if she didn’t do everything in her power to save her brother?
And how could she survive losing the major if she failed?
The clock on the mantel chimed three and her heart thundered in her breast with each strike. Every second that took her nearer to freeing Alex was another second closer to risking Sam’s love.
“The necklace, Lady Huntingdon.”
A heavy weight pressed painfully against her chest as she slowly pulled the necklace toward her. With her left hand, she reverently slid the necklace against the black material of her bombazine skirt, laying it out so that the diamonds and rubies shone in all their brilliance.
Roseneau gasped in appreciation as loudly as Claire had the moment Mary had pulled it from the bag to show her what Hunt had given into her care.
Roseneau reached for the necklace, but Claire quickly snatched it out of his reach.
“Not until my brother is free,” she said, holding her hand over the necklace so he couldn’t get it.
“Then I suggest you tell Louis to move,” Claire said, pulling a pistol from her reticule and pointing it at the middle of Roseneau’s chest. The loud click of the hammer being cocked gave her his full attention.
Shock was evident on his face. So was the helpless terror she saw in Alex’s eyes.
“That was not wise, my lady,” Roseneau said.
“Perhaps not,” she said, lifting the pistol slightly. If fired, it would hit him between the eyes. “But be assured I will not hesitate to use it.”
“And if the lady misses, be assured I won’t.”
Sam watched every pair of eyes flash to where he stood in the open doorway. Both Roseneau and Claire bolted to their feet and turned toward him. The amazing relief he felt the second he saw Claire unharmed turned to unbridled fury. What the hell did she think she was doing? How on earth did she think she could stand up to Roseneau on her own?
How can she give away a necklace that could save thousands of lives?
The relieved look on her face made him even more furious. He could barely contain his anger as he watched her slide the necklace back into the velvet bag and with her left hand, slip it into the pocket of her skirt.
Roseneau’s face turned purple, his expression livid, and every conceivable outcome flashed before Sam. Every way this might turn out. Even the possibility that he could fail and Claire might die.
That thought sent a wave of terror down his spine.
“I suggest,” he said, stepping into the room, “you give the order to release the marquess right now.”
Roseneau recovered quickly and moved his hand toward his pocket.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Sam said, inwardly hoping Roseneau would reach for the gun Sam knew he had hidden. “You have no idea the pleasure I would take in relieving the world of your presence.”
Roseneau slowly pulled his hand back and lifted it to show he was unarmed.
