Triana's Spring Seduction

by Tabetha Waite

  ***

  As if his words had become a solemn vow, the duke did, indeed, become a frequent visitor at the Abernathy townhouse — and he seemed to have the most impeccable timing. While Amelia never came right out and accused Gabriel of trying to sabotage her daughter’s engagement, his rank and stature keeping him beyond such reproach, the dark scowls she wore upon his unanticipated arrivals said it all.

  Eastbury was just as disapproving, for it seemed no matter what time of day he chose to call, planned or not, the duke would already be ensconced in the residence, thus spoiling any ideas the earl might have had to spend some time alone with his intended bride. On one such occasion he’d taken Triana out for an intimate al fresco luncheon in Hyde Park. He had just spread out the blanket — when Gabriel rode by on his horse, thus taking it upon himself to join them.

  On this particular rainy afternoon, Triana sat and stared out of her bedroom window. Drawing a heart in the fog on the glass with a wistful sigh, she thought how wonderful the last seven days had been. There were times she even dared to pretend it was the duke she was courting instead of Eastbury, for she and Gabriel talked about anything and everything, while the earl sulked nearby in brooding silence.

  Triana had told Gabriel about her childhood at Rosewood, touching on that fateful summer when she had “destroyed” Travell’s life — at least as far as fishing was concerned. She had enjoyed listening to Gabriel’s rich laughter as she finished her story, her heart feeling almost too large for her chest.

  In turn, he had spoken of a few of his adventures overseas, although he was careful not to reveal any hint of his being a spy. He also seemed to omit any mention of his father or much of his own childhood. She decided it must be a painful subject for him and if he wished to open up to her, he would in his own time.

  Time, she found, that was quickly running out as her wedding day drew steadily closer. In less than two weeks, she would take her place as the Countess of Eastbury and these coveted moments she’d been spending with Gabriel would be over.

  But regardless of how bleak her future might be, right now she was enjoying spending her days with the man she loved.

  Triana closed her eyes, and brought to mind those shining, molten silver eyes; the deep, rich timbre of his voice as it flowed around her, and that glorious, thick dark hair that casually fell across Gabriel’s forehead, making her itch to brush it back — just for the excuse to touch him.

  “Hiding out?”

  Travell’s softly spoken greeting quickly dissipated her daydream. “Hallo, big brother.” She greeted with a smile, hastily wiping the heart on the glass away. Feeling a sudden surge of melancholy take hold, she walked over to her dressing table and began to rummage through that morning’s invitations. Up until that point she’d ignored them, but she felt the need to focus on something rather than his empathetic gaze.

  “Rather gloomy day, isn’t it?” he murmured.

  “Yes, it is,” she returned, pretending an interest in a musicale the following Saturday. For several moments, she continued to inspect the cards, but when the silence stretched out, she couldn’t take it anymore. Setting the mail aside, she eyed him curiously, “Was there something you wanted?”

  “Actually, there is.” He blew out a heavy breath. “I don’t even know where to begin except to say there’s been a new development in the case, and while I hate the idea of involving you any further… I could actually use your help.”

  Intrigued, Triana lifted a brow. “Really?” As an afterthought, she asked hesitantly, “It doesn’t involve wearing that red dress again, does it?”

  “God, no!” Travell stated emphatically before muttering, “Don’t tell me you still have that thing.” As if the very idea was unthinkable.

  She simply shrugged, feeling the urge to tease him a bit. “One never knows when it might come in handy.”

  Travell frowned at that, although he let it pass. “I assure you, in this instance, such a drastic costume is not required.”

  She crossed her arms. “What is it that you need me to do?” At that precise moment, the door to Triana’s sitting room opened and after a few seconds, closed again, signaling her maid’s arrival and departure.

  “Not now.” Travell automatically lowered his voice. “Do you recall the meeting room?” Knowing that he referred to the secret space behind the bookcase, she nodded. “Meet me there at midnight. I’ll explain everything.”

  ***

  The instant the chimes on the clock signaled the hour of twelve, a certain restlessness took hold of Gabriel. In just a few minutes, she would be there. He could hardly contain his impatience to feast his eyes on Triana again, even though it had been less than twenty-four hours that he’d bid her farewell in the foyer, next to a sullen Eastbury. While he couldn’t keep Triana from wedding her corrupt husband-to-be, at least, not yet, he was having a grand time of paying his own addresses right beneath Eastbury’s nose.

  Unfortunately, such pleasure came with a price — but then, it usually did.

  While it was agreed he no longer needed to pursue Cordelia, both he and Travell coming to the conclusion that they had gained nothing from it — and would likely to continue to gain nothing — that didn’t mean he wasn’t starting to feel her bite at being ignored. He had a pile of love letters sitting in his study, and they kept coming. It was obvious the young widow wasn’t going to graciously accept his inattention.

  Naturally, this raised a prickling sense of unease where Triana was concerned.

  Not only was she putting herself in danger by being a professional threat to Cordelia and her cohorts, but there was every likelihood she would also become a personal one.

  However, Travell felt that as long as Triana remained engaged to Eastbury she was safe from Lady Worthington’s jealous scorn.

  But that didn’t mean Gabriel didn’t resent the fact.

  A light click interrupted his musings, and Gabriel turned as the bookcase popped open. There stood the object of his fascination, a lovely vision in a simple, blue day dress, her dark hair hanging over her shoulder in a loose braid.

  Her sparkling gaze instantly sought him out, as if she’d been anticipating this moment as much as he had. Their eyes met and a comely blush spread across her perfect cheekbones, causing his chest to tighten.

  ***

  “Very prompt, little sister. I’m impressed.” Travell gave her a welcoming nod and gestured to the empty seat next to Gabriel. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”

  The duke was as handsome as ever, with that single lock of hair that fell over his brow. He was casually dressed in a pair of black trousers and a white lawn shirt — partially unbuttoned, thus allowing her a teasing view of that muscular chest and its sprinkling of curly, dark hair.

  Triana’s pulse leaped as he gave her a charming, white-toothed grin as he pulled out the chair for her. It was only after she sat down, did she notice the other two men at the table. They were watching her interaction with Gabriel rather closely, although their faces revealed nothing.

  “I’m sure you recall Logan Montgomery from the night at the docks.” Her brother announced. She did indeed remember the agent with the ice blue eyes and black hair who’d assisted in Travell’s rescue, so she nodded and murmured a greeting as Travell rambled on. “And may I present Ridge Claymoore?”

  Triana shifted her gaze to the other agent and barely suppressed a shudder. A man with lighter hair, not exactly brown or even blond, he wore a black eye patch over an equally dark eye.

  Some of her trepidation must have shown on her face, for he suddenly lifted the patch and exposed another, perfectly matched eye. “’Tis only my disguise.”

  “Oh… of course.” Triana attempted a smile, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit out of sorts. Taking in all the watchful gazes around her, she finally realized the depth of their devotion to the Crown, and the lengths they would go to in order to complete an assignment.

  What if she couldn’t prove herself worthy to be among
them?

  “I heard about your rather impressive acting abilities on board the Evening Swan.” Ridge said evenly. “Very nicely done.”

  Triana smiled at the compliment. “Thank you, One… er… Mr. Claymoore. But I did have some help, so I mustn’t take all the credit.”

  While she had been referring to Gabriel, Ridge began to chuckle. “Millicent is quite a woman.” Scratching his chin, he went on to murmur, “Yes, fond memories.”

  After gaining a sharp eyed rebuke from Travell, her brother drawled, “If you don’t mind delaying your trip down memory lane, Claymoore, we have a lot to do before tomorrow night, not to mention letting Triana in on the latest developments.”

  Once Travell had regained everyone’s attention, he continued. “As you all know, we are getting down to the crucial points in this mission. While we are steadily gathering information, we’re still looking for that deciding bit of evidence.” He glanced at Triana. “That is why I’ve reluctantly asked my sister to join us tonight. I feel she might be our key to unlocking a potential witness.” Triana swallowed, feeling a nervous pressure beginning to build in her chest. “The lady in question will be at the opera tomorrow night.”

  Triana couldn’t hold back a slight frown. Opening night at Drury Lane was to be her first official outing as a betrothed woman. “That might be a bit of a problem, Travell. You know I’m going with Eastbury.”

  “Precisely.” Travell nodded. “I need you to make the acquaintance of Miss Constance Freewater.” A brief pause, “Or, as she is better known… Madame Corressa.”

  Triana’s mouth fell open. “Mother would never allow me to speak to a… a…”

  “I believe the description you are searching for is courtesan,” Ridge interceded.

  “I was always fond of the term ladybird,” Logan murmured thoughtfully.

  Travell pinched the bridge of his nose, as if praying for patience, before turning back to Triana. “I will take care of Mother, as I already have another chaperone lined up to escort you.”

  Triana bit her lip. “But surely Eastbury—”

  “Will not be an issue.” Travell finished for her. “Madame Corressa is currently under Lord Huntington’s protection, and Huntington, as you likely know, is one of the earl’s closest friends.”

  Huntington — that was a name Triana was quite familiar with, for not only had he been one of her father’s particular acquaintances once upon a time; the man had also propositioned her — although only once before she made it quite clear that she wasn’t interested.

  “What makes you so sure this… um… Miss Freewater will tell me what you want to know?” She asked.

  Travell just smiled. “Ah, but that’s where we leave it in your capable hands — to make sure she does.”

  Triana fidgeted slightly. “But what if I fail?”

  “You won’t,” Gabriel stated firmly, and looking into his eyes, she knew that, with his support and faith, she could take on all of London if need be.

  Turning back to the men around the table, she gathered her courage and said, “I’ll do it.”

  ***

  By the next evening, as Triana paced her bedchamber, oblivious to her elegant coiffure and the silky satin and organza overlay of her mauve gown, she wondered how she would ever make it through the night. Her stomach was tied in knots of trepidation as she considered the task before her and what it would mean for her brother, Gabriel, and the other agents if she failed to gain Madame Corressa’s confidence.

  She took a deep breath in an effort to calm her frayed nerves, as she mentally went over the conversation that had transpired the previous night, after she’d been apprised of the mission, along with the agent’s roles they currently played.

  She still found it hard to believe that she was about to become embroiled in the same affair…

  “As I said, she will be occupying Lord Huntington’s box.” Her brother’s instructions still rang clearly. “The reason she is essential to our case is because her former paramour was the captain of the Evening Swan. As they did not part on good terms, it’s doubtful she would harbor any loyalty and can thus be possibly swayed to divulge whatever information she carries.”

  “Information such as…?” Triana had prompted.

  Travell had explained. “We learned from our Bow Street traitor, thanks to much… persuasion, that the vessel in question is much more than the typical, merchant ship it appears to be.” Triana must have shown her perplexity over this, for he had elaborated. “You see, with the current conflict in America, as well as the war with Napoleon, smuggling has become a real issue. There’s an area in France near Gravelines that is referred to as the Smugglers’ City. Prisoners of war, gold, and English newspapers are traded for French textiles, brandy, and gin, but the Crown sees none of the profits. It’s threatening to hurt our economy if we don’t put a stop to it, and with the need for coin to finance our military the timing is crucial. While we can’t do anything about it on enemy territory, at least, for the moment, the first step is putting an end to the two largest ships that are transporting the goods. We know who the main conspirator is behind it all, but we don’t have enough evidence to prove it, because we think there may be a French spy aiding them on English soil. We need to find out who that is.”

  Naturally, with so much riding on her success, Triana could only pray her acting skills came through tonight.

  “My lady?” Genevieve’s voice intruded on her reverie, causing her to start. “Lord Eastbury has arrived.”

  Triana’s heart began to beat faster, although she pasted a confident smile on her face, lest her reservations show. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  By the time the lights dimmed to signify the opera was about to begin, Triana had already spotted her objective from Eastbury’s box. She’d prepared herself to find a woman similar to Millicent in looks and personality, but Madame Corressa looked nothing at all like a typical courtesan. In truth, she was more like a debutante in her demure gown of ivory satin, and actually quite young, perhaps no more than two and twenty. She wore very little rouge or lip color, and her strawberry blond hair was arranged in neat ringlets around her face. She held herself like any regal lady of the peerage, which Triana found admirable, although perhaps a bit more intimidating for her quest.

  Triana turned to her companion and hoped her voice sounded casual as she said, “I see Lord Huntington is here tonight. Isn’t he a friend of yours?”

  The earl settled himself in his seat. “Indeed, he is.”

  “Perhaps we should pay our respects during intermission,” she suggested as she sat down, all the while trying to keep her anticipation from showing.

  Eastbury eyed her curiously. “I wasn’t aware you knew Huntington so well.”

  This was where she had to be extremely careful. “’Tis true I haven’t spoken to him in ages, but he was once a dear friend of my father’s.” With a demure smile, she hoped she didn’t choke on her words when she added, “Besides, as we are soon to be married, should I not reacquaint myself with him, considering your association?”

  Eastbury seemed to accept her statement, and in fact, appeared pleased by it. “What a capital idea, my dear, and quite thoughtful.” He patted her on the knee, but thankfully did no more as the curtain was raised.

  At least the first step is complete.

  As the first act of the opera began to unfold, Triana did her best to appear as if she were enjoying it, but she kept thinking of the confrontation to come, feeling as though she were balancing on the edge of a sword’s blade, her nerves were so tightly strung.

  She hoped a silent perusal of the packed auditorium would keep her mind occupied until intermission. As she lifted her opera glass to her eye, it finally dawned on her that only half of the spectators in attendance were actually watching the players on the stage. While a few smug stares and fluttering fans were being cast toward her and Eastbury, it seemed most were staring in disapproval at Lord Huntington’s box. However, the
man under such scrutiny seemed oblivious to anything but the entertainment and his lovely companion.

  As this brought a twitch to her lips, an unexpected noise behind Triana caused her to jump slightly, although it took only a moment for her to pinpoint the sound.

  She glanced back at the source and saw Lady Davenport — their chaperone for the evening — had already slumped down in her chair; the bright orange, ostrich plume in her turban fluttering lightly with each breath she took. Triana rolled her eyes, but she had to admit that Travell had certainly held up his end of the bargain. Lady Davenport was one of their mother’s friends, and considering the fact her vision wasn’t as good as it used to be and her hearing was quickly following suit, it gave Triana the perfect opportunity to meet with Madame Corressa without any impediment that she might gain from her mother.

  After what seemed to be an interminable wait, the lights in the theatre were being lit as intermission was upon them. She accepted Eastbury’s arm, as the earl led her over to Lord Huntington’s box. It felt as though she was walking through mud the closer she got, although her footsteps never faltered and she forced a bright smile when they entered.

  “Huntington!” Alfred’s enthusiastic voice carried over to the other man, a bit younger and taller than himself, but still rather thin on top and somewhat paunchy.

  “Eastbury!” The greeting was returned just as enthusiastically. “I trust you’re enjoying L’inganno felice?”

  “Italian has never been my forte, as you well know, but my dear bride-to-be wished to attend and I could not deny her simple request.” Triana had to bite back a retort, for the idea of attending tonight’s performance had been at her mother’s insistence.

  Huntington turned to Triana, giving her a brief bow before replying blandly, “I can well understand the power of a woman’s persuasion.” Triana knew that comment was, no doubt, a double entendre for her benefit, although she remained silent and merely inclined her head in reply. In turn, he gestured to his companion and announced, “Shall I present Miss Constance Freewater?”