“What are you looking for?”
She bit her bottom lip before answering. “I, well…”
John chuckled. Her need wasn’t any different from his, and if she knew that he had helped her with those same needs while she was ill, Elizabeth would probably die of mortification. John followed her into the cabin. There had to be a chamber pot in here somewhere. “Here.” A pot sat snuggly in a hole bolted into the floor.
Elizabeth turned to him. “Do you mind?” She shooed him with her hand back into their hiding place.
John retreated, allowing her the privacy she desired. When they had both seen to their needs, John placed their lunch tray on the table in the cabin, then walked about and stretched. As long as the door was open, it was safe to move around, or so he supposed. Who knew if they would be shut away again?
Elizabeth did the same. She moved with ease, which meant she was well on her way to being on the mend. Only occasionally did she bring her had to her side.
“We will need to return to the hold.”
John walked over and looked past her shoulder out the window. A French frigate was bearing down on them. He sighed and they turned towards the opening just as the young sailor entered.
“We saw them out the window,: John said before the sailor could instruct them to go back into hiding Moments later, they were locked in darkness again.
Elizabeth lay in silence. There was so much she wanted to say but didn’t know the words. Jean Pierre…no, John, had been part of her life for these past years, and very shortly she would leave him. Who knew if they would ever see each other again? She wasn’t sure she was ready to let him go. No, she was sure. She was not ready for John Phillip Trent to walk out of her life. But what could she do about it?
She rolled to her side to try to make out his profile in the darkness, ignoring the pull at her injury, and placed a hand on his chest. “John.”
“Hmmm.”
“Even if your family doesn’t know, I do. It has been an honor to work with you. It was a comfort knowing you were there for me.”
His hand came up and covered hers. “Thank you. It was an honor to work with you, too.”
A grin pulled at her lips when she remembered his initial reaction to her assignment. He did not, under any circumstances, want to work with a woman. “Even though I was female and too young by half?”
She felt his chest rumble when he chuckled. “I was wrong.”
Happiness burst inside her from his admission. She hadn’t even realized how much she had wanted his approval, but her breast swelled with pride knowing she had it.
John rolled to face her, and she wished she could see his face. “I am going to miss you.”
“I believe I will miss you, too.”
Silence followed, and Elizabeth wished she knew what he was thinking. His breath came closer, and soon his lips were on hers. This wasn’t for show, or to avoid being caught, but because he wanted to kiss her, and Elizabeth wanted that kiss more than anything. She opened for him and allowed the pleasure to assault her senses.
John angled his head, and Elizabeth rolled onto her back. He leaned over without ever breaking their kiss. She needed him closer, and her arms snaked up around his shoulders so she could pull him to her. His mouth trailed from her lips to her cheek and down her neck while his hand caressed her side. When he cupped her breast his lips returned to hers. Elizabeth arched into his hand, her breasts becoming heavy, more sensitive than she thought possible. The temperature in the room increased, and all she wanted to do was tear off her dress.
His lips and hands left her, and John rolled away. “What am I doing?”
“Jean Pierre would know.”
There was a hiss. “I am not Jean Pierre.”
“I know. I was teasing.” Why was he angry all of a sudden? She returned her hand to his chest, wishing they could go back to what they were doing.
He moved it onto the bed. “I can’t kiss you…or touch you. It is not right.”
She didn’t want his honor, she wanted him, and this may be her only chance. “Why?”
The bed dipped and the warmth of his breath caressed her cheek. “Do you really need to ask such a question? Are you so innocent?”
“I may be innocent, but I don’t see why we cannot continue.”
“I am not that strong to lay here and kiss and caress you without wanting more.”
Nicholas had explained to her a very long time ago that a gentleman could only take so much, and even then the most honorable would succumb to seduction, unable to turn back. He had wanted to warn her at the beginning of her first Season and she kept the lesson in the back of her mind whenever she was courted. She suspected John was at that point.
She wanted him unable to turn back. “What if I want more?”
“You have no idea what you are suggesting.”
“Don’t I?”
“You are the granddaughter of a duke. Your cousin was a friend of mine. You are a lady. One who should remain pure until her wedding night. A lady to be respected and honored.”
Elizabeth brought her fingers to his lips to silence him. “John, I may be the granddaughter of a duke but I am also a spy. I am three-and-twenty and will never marry. When will I get the opportunity? I suspect that after the holiday with the family, another assignment will be found for me.”
“But…”
“Do you know what I may be asked to do in the future?” she interrupted. “My superiors were very clear that one day I may be called to use everything at my disposal to get information. They didn’t hint at possibilities but wanted to know if I was willing to use my body if necessary.”
Though he knew this to be true—and many women had prostituted themselves for king and country—he’d never thought of Elizabeth doing so. Perhaps in the beginning, when he only knew her as Lisette, but not now. In fact, the idea of her in bed with another man angered him, but he was powerless to do anything.
“What kind of seductress would I make when the only person I have ever kissed was you?”
He smiled, pleased with her confirmation.
“I don’t want to risk life and limb because I don’t know what to expect. And I would rather this be on my terms, with a man I admire and not some man who has information we may vitally need. Besides, how would I explain my virginity?”
She made a strong argument, and it would be so easy to give in. Heaven knew he wanted to make love to her, and she had the right to know love, passion, and tenderness without having to use her body as a bartering chip.
“Besides, I want you.”
The words were barely a whisper, but they destroyed all resolve within his being.
Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she was going to need to resort to begging, but apparently she uttered the magic words. John’s lips formed against hers and his hands came around to her back. It was as if they had never been interrupted. The buttons at the back of her dress loosened, and soon he was pushing the sleeves down her arms. Elizabeth pulled his shirt from his pants and pushed it over his head. John stopped what he was doing momentarily to free his arms before he went back to freeing hers. He shoved the dress to her waist and the chemise followed. John leaned forwards and deepened the kiss, rolling her onto her back, partially laying on her. The fine hair on his chest rubbed against her already sensitive nipples.
John’s lips left hers and trailed down her neck and to her collarbone before he reached her breasts. He paused a moment and lifted both in his hands, as if weighing them. His thumbs brushed over each nipple, sending bolts of pleasure to her core. Elizabeth arched, and John molded each in his hands before he drew the tip of one into his mouth. Elizabeth thought she might die from the pleasure. The friction of the stubble on his cheek was in contrast to the silky, hot smoothness of his tongue, setting every nerve on fire.
He moved his leg between hers and pressed against her womanhood, bringing only minor relief to the ache. She pressed against him, hoping he would touch her more or relieve some of this buil
ding pressure, while her hands caressed his back. She didn’t know what to do or where to touch, too lost in a sea of new sensations.
John sat up and pushed her dress and chemise over her hips, down her legs and off to the side, leaving her completely naked to him. Thank goodness it was too dark to see anything, or she would need to find the blanket.
His fingers trailed down her stomach until they came to her curls and paused. Don’t stop now. She arched, encouraging him to continue, and soon he did. After that, she was lost. She had no idea what magic he created, but in a matter of moments something inside her shattered. She arched and screamed while John’s mouth covered hers, muffling any sound.
She lay there panting, wondering what was next, but John did nothing further. She knew there was more—he had yet to find any pleasure. After what she experienced, she wanted him to experience the same. Instead, he lay on his back, breathing deeply.
Elizabeth came up on her elbows and moved towards him. He was having second thoughts, or at least she assumed that was the case, but she would not allow it. She bent forwards and placed her lips on his chest. It was a bit awkward because she could not see what she was doing, so she used her fingers to caress him until she found the flat nipple and continued to tease and nip as he had done to her. His breathing became erratic and she smoothed her hand down his stomach until she came to the waist of his pants. John grabbed her hand.
“Elizabeth,” he pleaded.
“I want you, John.”
His hand fell way. She undid the packet of his pants and slid her hand inside. Thank goodness she had listened to the maids in Tuileries when they talked of their liaisons or she wouldn’t have any idea how to go about this. His hips lifted and she moved her hand around his shaft then up and down. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but he seemed not to mind. His hips came up again, and John pushed his pants off.
With gentle hands against her shoulder, he pushed her onto her back. His fingers were between her legs again. Elizabeth arched into him and John repeated his caresses. Elizabeth was surprised when she shattered a second time. Before she could recover, he had moved between her thighs. His member probed and entered.
A moment later he stopped, lowered his mouth to hers, and gave her the gentlest kiss, so loving that tears came to her eyes. He then plunged forwards, tearing though her virgin barrier. Elizabeth clenched her teeth to keep from crying out.
His hands touched her face and he stilled. “You are crying. Did I hurt you that badly?”
She turned her face and kissed his palm. “No. That is not what the tears are from.” Thank goodness he didn’t ask why she cried, because she would be hard-pressed to explain her emotions at the moment.
His lips returned to hers, and soon he was moving in the age-old rhythm, slowly increasing his tempo before he jerked away and groaned. Warmth spread across her abdomen. John had enough control not to leave her with child. It was a consideration she should appreciate, but it also left her partially disappointed. It was stupid, of course. A child would ruin everything for her, and how would she ever explain? But apparently he had not been as overcome with passion as she that he forgot everything, including the consequences of their making love.
John fell to the side and lay without saying a word before she felt him move. She heard ripping and assumed it was her chemise. The thing was already in tatters from being used for bandages. He returned and wiped her stomach before settling down beside her and drawing her into his arms. Elizabeth felt the need to say something, but she was robbed of speech. Instead she lay in the cocoon of his arms, relishing these moments with him.
He couldn’t let her go. He must, he knew that, but he didn’t want to. Elizabeth was perfect for him, and once they docked he would have to turn his back on her and move on to the next assignment. How many more men would she sleep with before she retired? The idea of another man sharing with her what he just had sent his pulse rising. She was his, and nobody had the right to touch her.
But Elizabeth wasn’t his. She belonged to England, and they would use her how they saw fit. He could out her and ruin her career, but to what end? It wasn’t as if they had a future together. He could be gone weeks and months at a time, leaving her to wait for him in England, which would be grossly unfair. Besides, what if his assignment turned into something that lasted for years, as this last one had? Was it really right to ask her to sit back and wait for him? No. He had to let her go. As much as it killed him, he would walk away.
The boat bumped either a dock or another ship. Either way, the young man would be returning soon, and it wouldn’t do for him to open the bookshelf and find Elizabeth in a state of complete undress. John searched the area and located her chemise, which he helped pull over her head, followed by her dress. He fastened the back while she put on her boots. In his haste to make love to her, he hadn’t bothered to remove her stockings and barely recalled them against his legs.
While she messed with her hair, John quickly dressed and was shoving in the tail of his shirt when the bookcase swung open. “We’ve arrived in Portsmouth.”
A few days ago he would have looked forward to hearing those words. Now, he wished it was still miles away. “Thank you.”
He turned to Elizabeth. There were tear stains on her cheeks and her eyes watered once again. A small smile pulled at her lips. “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “No. Don’t thank me, and please don’t ever be sorry.”
“Nor you.”
A grin burst on his lips that she would even think he could be sorry. “Oh, Elizabeth. This will be my finest memory for years to come.” With that he reached forwards and placed his lips against hers.
When he pulled away, she looked up at him. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it after a moment. He would love to know what she was about to say, but perhaps it was better this way. They couldn’t have any emotional ties between them. She knew that as well as he.
Elizabeth was the first to move towards the door. “Shall we?”
“I suppose so.”
She stopped at the basin in the room, splashed water on her face, and turned to him. “Better?”
John smoothed down her hair and combed a few tangles out with his fingers. “For someone who has traveled in the hold of a ship, you look lovely.”
“I am sure I look a mess, but thank you.”
They emerged onto the deck and turned towards the dock. Along the road was a large carriage, the crest of Whitton on its side. How did Danby know when she was arriving? Or that she would arrive at this port?
The door opened, and out stepped Martin Renard. He was the man responsible for putting John in Tuileries all those years ago, and Elizabeth too. John stopped his approach. Renard! That was Lisette’s last name.
“Uncle Martin,” Elizabeth cried and hurried forwards.
John stifled a groan. Not only had he seduced and made love to the granddaughter of Danby and the cousin of a one-time good friend, but also the niece of his superior. He should just remain on this ship and have it take him back to France. He was almost certain he would fare better with Napoleon’s Ministry of Police than the three men in England.
But as much as he wanted to, John would not run away. He slowly followed Elizabeth to her uncle.
“Your father wrote that Danby expected you home. I took a chance that this would be the port you came through.” He turned to John. “It is good to see you, John. I assume things are well.”
Renard was clearly unaware of the situation. Before John and Elizabeth separated to return to their families, the man needed to be informed of everything.
“Actually they aren’t. Elizabeth and I cannot return to Paris.”
The man’s pleasant mood disappeared. “Let’s go somewhere where we can speak in private. I’ve taken a room at the Master’s Inn.” He turned to assist Elizabeth into the carriage. “Do you not have any luggage?”
She shrugged. “We left in a hurry.”
“I’ll have Polly obtain clothing f
or you while we meet. You can’t return to Danby Castle dressed like that. Your grandfather will have Jean Pierre shot on the spot.”
For more reasons than you can imagine.
The next morning dawned crisp and clear. Elizabeth put on the first new dress she had worn in years. How Polly, her new maid, had managed to find so much clothing on such short notice was a miracle. She wished she could look forwards to her return, but the moment she stepped into the carriage she knew she would never see John again.
It was for the best, she reminded herself, but she would have loved to have just one more night with him. She would have taken it last night, had her uncle not been in the same inn. Instead, they spent the evening going over the events in Paris while her uncle sent dispatches to London, Germany, and cities within France. They didn’t know how far the damage had stretched, but they needed to warn whom they could. It was in the early hours of the morning when they finally parted. Even then, she hadn’t gotten a moment alone with John because her uncle insisted on escorting her to her room.
Now the time had come and she hoped she managed her goodbye without tears.
He waited for her beside the carriage. Polly was already seated. “Renard left early to return to London. He will not continue with you to Yorkshire.”
“I assumed as much.”
“Will you be all right? Is it really safe for two women to travel alone?”
Elizabeth bit back a smile. She would love to beg him to be her escort, but there were already four guards with the carriage, at her grandfather’s insistence, whenever any of the daughters or granddaughters traveled without husbands or family.
He opened the door to the carriage before lifting her hand to his lips. “It was a pleasure working with you, Lisette,” he whispered before he turned her hand over and placed his lips against the pulse at her wrist.
“You are a wicked man, Jean Pierre.”
He straightened, grinned, and winked. “I can be very wicked, Mademoiselle.” With a flourish, he bowed. “Until we meet again.”
Elizabeth nodded. She could not speak due to the lump in her throat. Tears blurred her vision, and she hastily retreated into the carriage. The door closed behind her, and she knew that this was the last she would see of Jean Pierre Bouvier or John Phillip Trent. Or course, one day she may meet John in society. But if she did, she would have to pretend they did not know one another.
Compromised for Christmas Page 5
