by Brooke, Meg
His hands still on her hips, he showed her how to move, how to ride him so that the pleasure only intensified, and soon they had found their rhythm. His hands came up to massage her breasts as she rocked atop him, and she braced her hands on his shoulders to keep from collapsing with the pure delight she felt. His fingers found the hard bud at her center and took her even higher, until she was certain she would die from the intensity of the feeling.
Gripping her waist, he surged into her, crying out her name. As he did, she felt some invisible wall break inside her, the explosion of pure pleasure taking her completely by surprise. As the waves subsided she allowed herself to fall onto his chest, her cheek against his shoulder as they both struggled for breath.
When the stars had at last stopped spinning through her vision Eleanor rolled to one side. Already beginning to lose her grip on wakefulness, she snuggled closer to him, smiling as he pressed his lips to her hair. For once, neither of them spoke. As she drifted off to sleep, Eleanor thought that, if they were never able to be happy or to love one another, at least they had this.
NINETEEN
September 3, 1834
The sunrise woke him. Colin stirred uncomfortably, only realizing why his arm was asleep when he looked down and saw Eleanor laying atop it, her face peaceful as she slept. And yet Colin knew that her youthful, innocent countenance hid a will of iron and a strength that belied her beauty. Another woman might have laid awake all night worrying about the royal visit that would commence today and turned away from her husband in her anxiety. But Eleanor had made love to him with wild abandon, her pleasure in it so obvious and unbridled that it took his breath away, and then she had slept soundly, her body pressed against his.
Now Colin carefully extricated his arm from beneath her, wincing as she stirred in her sleep. But she slumbered on, turning a little to press her face into the pillow. He pulled the coverlet up over her shoulder and went into the little dressing room to find some fresh clothes. It didn’t take him long to dress, and as he crept out of the room he cast one last glance at her, her bright hair spread over the pillow, her lashes feathering against her cheeks. He longed to climb back into that bed and never leave it. But there was too much work to be done, and so he closed the door quietly behind him and went downstairs to find Strathmore.
Before he reached the dining room, however, he ran into Leo in the salon.
“I understand you’re going to go through the Priest’s Passage,” his new brother-in-law said without preamble.
“I think we must. I’ve had men guarding the entrances all night, so I don’t think we’ll find anyone hiding down there. Still, any clues we can find will be helpful.”
“You haven’t discovered anything about where they might be hiding?” Leo asked as they went through to the dining room.
Colin shook his head. “Nothing useful,” he said.
“Are you sure, Colin?” Leo asked, looking pointedly at him.
The dining room was empty. Colin poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table. “All right,” he said, “we have reason to believe Mr. Toby Hollier may be involved somehow.”
Leo gripped the back of the chair across from Colin. “I have known Toby since we were boys,” he ground out.
“You knew him when you were both boys,” Colin corrected. “And I’m not saying we suspect him of anything, just that there are connections between him and the Serraray.”
“How do you know this?”
Colin sipped his coffee and said nothing.
“For God’s sake, Colin, you’re married to my sister now. Tell me outright: are you a spy?”
Looking him straight in the eye, Colin said evenly, “I am not.”
“But in Vienna, you were working as a spy, weren’t you?”
“No,” Colin said, “though I believe the French and the Russians thought I was, otherwise none of what happened in Vienna would ever have taken place.”
“Have you told Eleanor about that?” Leo asked, dropping into the chair at last.
“There has hardly been time, Leo. In little more than a week I have investigated the death of my colleague, gotten married, and captured an Algerian terrorist, all while trying to do the job for which I was sent here in the first place. Today we will see whether that work has borne fruit, but unfortunately I must keep my focus on the princess’s safety and not my relationship with your sister. Much though I would like to focus on the latter,” he griped.
Leo chuckled at that, but then his tone became serious again. “What will you do with the man in the dressing room?”
“I’ll go down there as soon as Strathmore appears,” Colin said impatiently. He reminded himself to give the poor man some credit—he had stayed out at the castle ruins last night, after all, when he could have had one of the patrols do the job. Strathmore was probably every bit as exhausted as Colin, who was planning to give him another bothersome task. He had decided to send his assistant out to meet the party coming from Hafeley and brief Crawley on the most recent developments before they arrived at Sidney Park. He knew Strathmore would rather be at Sidney Park, but there would be no time to sit down with Crawley when the princess and her retinue arrived. It was the only way.
“Will you torture him?”
Colin was jolted out of his reverie by Leo’s question. He did not look up from the table as he said, “Only if I have to.” Then, taking a thoughtful sip of his coffee, he said, “No, that’s not true. I won’t torture him. I wouldn’t know where to start. But I don’t want him to know that.” He thought back to the dossier he had read on the channel crossing. “The Serraray teach their men that it is an honor to die for their cause, that a man who is able to withstand torture, to keep their secrets safe even with his life, is worthy of the highest respect. But that does not mean they do not fear pain.”
“If you will get no information from him then why not send him on to London? Why keep him here?”
“One of two things is true about the young man in the dressing room,” Colin observed. Leo leaned towards him. “Either he is their best man, and they sent him hoping that he would succeed in whatever operation they planned, or he is the least valuable and experienced of their number, and they sent him because it did not matter whether he failed or not. If the former, then by keeping him imprisoned I am significantly hampering the remaining Serraray. If the latter, then it is reasonable to hope that he may break and give us useful information.”
Leo leaned back in his chair. “How do you reason all this out?”
Shrugging, Colin said, “It’s my job.”
Now Leo rose and went to the sideboard, but as he was filling his plate he said casually, “Speaking of your job, when do you mean to return to the Continent?”
Colin had been wondering when this question would come. “I’d like to take Eleanor to meet my parents in Staffordshire first,” he said, “and then return to Brussels within the month.”
Leo set his plate down and began to eat. “She will be happy there, I think,” he said around a mouthful of tomato.
“I hope so.”
Strathmore came in then. “Forgive me, My Lord, but I went down to check on the guard we set on the Priest’s Passage. There’s been nothing out of order all night, apparently. Colonel Taylor sent men out to relieve the patrols on the other entrances an hour ago, and the first watch just came in. They saw nothing suspicious, either.”
Colin nodded as he took this in. He had not expected any more. Meddur Udad had come through the passage alone, while his brothers remained in the ruined castle on the hill, perhaps waiting for a signal from inside the house, perhaps simply awaiting his return. When the plan had gone awry his fellows had disappeared, willing to sacrifice him for whatever plan they had made.
Now a footman followed Strathmore into the room, bearing a letter on a tray. He bowed to Leo. “This just came, My Lord,” he said.
Leo took the letter and opened it, reading it quickly. “It’s from Hafeley,” he said. “The princess
and her party will be with us by three.”
“Splendid,” Colin muttered. He felt as though he had already fought an entire war when really all he had done was skirmish. He pushed away from the table and stood.
“I’ll go through the tunnel with you,” Leo offered. “There are a few tricky spots down there.”
Colin looked at Strathmore.
“That will allow me to go over the procedures one more time with Colonel Taylor,” his assistant said.
“Very well,” Colin agreed, “But first we must go and see our friend.”
Leo nodded. “I’ll meet you downstairs in half an hour,” he said. Then he stood and left the room.
When the door had closed behind him Strathmore, who was surveying the food laid out on the sideboard, said, “I don’t believe I ever offered my felicitations yesterday, My Lord.”
“Let’s save the pleasantries for another day,” Colin snapped. “They are appreciated, of course, but we have far too much to do now. Did you see our friend Mr. Udad yet this morning?”
“I thought I’d wait for you,” Strathmore said, picking up a piece of toast. As he chewed he looked at the door. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come along? No telling what might wait for you town in that tunnel, especially with your new brother-in-law leading the way,” he said, grinning.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Colin groaned. “Besides, I have a job for you.” Strathmore frowned as Colin outlined what he wanted, but he nodded amenably when he finished.
“I’ll leave after we’ve seen the prisoner,” he said.
“No, I think it had better be now, if you mean to catch them on the road.”
Strathmore looked as though he might argue, but at last he gave a curt nod, stood, and left the room.
With a sigh, Colin rose as well, going out into the hall and down the servants’ stairs. There was a new guard at the door of the dressing room. He snapped to attention as they neared. “All quiet,” he said in a hushed voice as Colin approached. He held the door open for him.
Meddur Udad lay on the table, looking for all the world as though he were asleep. But as Colin approached he opened his eyes slowly and stared up at them. “Ah, my friends,” he said. “Welcome.”
“Good morning,” Colin said in a congenial tone.
“It is morning?” the man on the table asked. He looked past Colin as though expecting someone else. Well, he had seen Strathmore the night before. Perhaps he had expected that the only man who seemed to know anything of his culture would never be far away. “I do not know this.”
“It is,” Colin said.
“Do you have any new information for me this morning?” Colin asked.
Udad shook his head. “I am sorry,” he said, rolling the R sound. “You wait long time I think.”
“I am prepared to wait,” Colin said.
“My friends, they not wait,” Udad said.
“We’ll see them soon, then?” Colin asked, keeping his voice neutral.
Clearly realizing he had said too much, Udad pursed his lips and looked away, back towards the door again. “The White Hand, he kill me if I speak.”
“Well,” Colin said, forcing a casual smile, “take all the time you want. I suppose your friends will stick to their plan, even if they don’t have you with them, so I can understand why you wouldn’t want to tell me.”
Beneath his tan skin Colin could see that Udad was turning red, but the man stayed resolutely silent.
With a glance at the door, Colin said, “How would you like to get up off the table, Meddur?” It was a risk, and he saw from the way Udad’s eyes widened that it was surprising, which was exactly what he had hoped for.
Udad’s nostrils flared, and he looked away again.
“I’m sure you’d like to stretch your legs a little. Why don’t you take a stroll with us?”
For a long moment Udad did not speak. Then he said, “What is this word, stroll?”
“A walk,” Colin supplied.
The man frowned. “You take me out and give me to the White Hand, yes?”
“No,” Colin assured him. Was the man really so terrified of their leader? Why did he seem to believe that the elusive White Hand was just around the corner? “Just a little walk.” He stepped out and had a few words with the guard. Looking confused, the man came in and began loosening Udad’s bonds. As he did so Leo appeared in the doorway.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Colin took him by the elbow and led him into the hall. “I’m going to take him into the tunnel,” Colin explained. “I’ve noticed that the man does a poor job of hiding his emotions. It will be useful to have him along. If the others have been in the Priest’s Passage, he will tell us, even if he does not wish to.”
“Very shrewd,” Leo said, though he looked unconvinced.
The guard was watching as Udad struggled to sit up. Colin saw that his wrists were raw where they had been bound, and the assassin winced and rubbed the red skin before he stood. The guard put one hand protectively on his sword. “No,” Colin said, holding up a hand. “He won’t try anything. Will you, Meddur?”
The man bowed his head a little, with a smile that was not quite as reassuring as Colin would have liked.
“Are you sure about this?” Leo asked quietly.
“No,” Colin said, “but where is he going to go? Look at him—he can barely stand, let alone run on that bandaged foot.”
Leo stared at him a moment, but at last he nodded. “Very well. Let’s go, shall we?”
Out in the corridor two more armed men waited with lanterns in their hands. Colin saw the surprise register on their face when they saw Meddur Udad limping along between him and Leo, but fortunately neither of them wished to question a viscount and future earl. Instead they trailed along silently as Leo led the way into the cold room, where another red-coated man waited beside the open door to the tunnel. Colin watched Udad carefully. The man glanced at him nervously as they went into the darkness.
“It’s six miles to Havenhall,” Leo said. “God only knows how long it took to dig this thing originally.”
“Years, probably,” Colin said. “How did you ever work up the courage to come down here as children?”
“Oh, the twins never did. I almost didn’t, either. But Eleanor was fearless. I think it had something to do with all us boys, me and Toby and John Mowbray and Anders, always one step ahead of her. Drove her mad.”
“Anders?”
“Rennick. The Earl of Stowe. Back then he was Viscount Landridge, and his mother still lived in Dorset—she hadn’t married her second husband yet. It was too far to go for holidays, so he came to Sidney Park quite often. Once I hoped—” he stopped abruptly.
Colin picked up his pace as they went deeper into the tunnel. When he was beside Leo, he said, “Go on. What did you hope?”
In the dim light of the lanterns he could not read Leo’s expression, but he thought he might have frowned. “Once I hoped that he and Eleanor would...well, it doesn’t matter. He’s happily married with two children, and she’s...”
“Stuck with me,” Colin muttered.
“She’s not stuck, Colin,” Leo said. “I know I should be furious with you, I know I should hate you, but in truth, I’m rather pleased she ended up with you. I know you’ll make her happy. It just would have been a little easier if it hadn’t happened now. Although I suppose there was no other time for it to happen, was there?”
Colin had to smile at that. He didn’t believe in fate, but it was true that it seemed almost as though some invisible hand had thrown he and Eleanor together. Perhaps he should take it as a sign.
Shaking his head to clear it of those romantic thoughts, he dropped back beside Udad again, forcing himself to focus on the assassin’s reactions. In the faint glow of the lanterns the man looked like little more than a boy. Colin found himself suddenly wondering whether he had a family back in Algeria, whether he had a wife or children.
He could not think about these t
hings. He had to watch Udad, to see only his face, not the man behind it. But he couldn’t help it. Much though the Foreign Office prized his gift for languages, his talent for fitting seamlessly into any social setting, it was the uncanny ability he had to read people that made him an asset. But now that he needed that capacity, it was failing him, disappearing into the fog of other thoughts, other concerns. He had never been so distracted. Was it Eleanor? Or was it merely that his scruples were getting the better of him?
“My Lord,” one of the soldiers at his back said, “there’s something down there.”
Colin turned to look down the tunnel, where the bottom of a ladder was visible within a weak shaft of light coming down from above. Colin slowed his pace as he neared it, but Udad suddenly cried out and pushed past Leo, running as best he could with his wounded foot down the tunnel until he reached what appeared to be a pile of dark cloth on the stones. It was not, of course. It was a body, clothed in the same black attire as their prisoner, and now Udad knelt beside it, letting out a low wail of grief. “Usem,” he moaned, putting out his hand to turn the body over. “Nalla nsamhasste, misse namisse.”
Colin gestured for the men to stay back, and he and Leo approached. The dead man appeared to be no older than Udad. His pale eyes were still wide with shock, but his body had already begun to stiffen. Now Udad looked up at them, tears on his cheeks, his hand still on the dead man’s chest. “This man my...son of my father’s brother,” he said.
“Cousin,” Leo supplied.
“My cousin,” Udad repeated, “Usem Takfarinas.”
“He was one of your group?” Colin asked rather stupidly. Of course the man had been one of the Serraray. What else would he be doing in England?
But Udad merely nodded, dropping his head to the dead man’s chest. Now Colin saw a bloodstain peeking out from under the man’s turban, and he went to Udad’s side and crouched down. Gently he put his hand beneath the head, expecting to feel the wet sponginess he would have associated with a head injury. But there was almost no blood at all, and it had already dried into the fabric. The man had not been killed by a blow to the head or anything else quite so simple, then. “Bring the lantern,” Colin said, and when the guard was standing over his shoulder, he looked down into the wide-open eyes of the dead man. “Poison,” he said softly.
