He lifted an arrogant brow. “You have a problem.”
The room went deadly quiet as she narrowed her shrewd gaze. “What kind of problem?” she spat.
He didn’t even hesitate. “Madame Corressa is gone.”
“I thought that was the point.”
“You misunderstand. The man I had trailing her is dead,” he stated flatly. “She found a way to slip past us.”
She clenched her fists in frustration and anger, and said in all vehemence, “I didn’t realize I relied on you for such insubordination!” Turning, she walked over to the window, not in the least inclined to look upon him any longer.
“That’s not all.”
She gave a dry scoff, but didn’t turn around. “I didn’t expect it was,” she snapped, with mockery dripping from every word. “Get on with it then.”
“We located the man from the docks.”
“I assume you took care of him.” She finally spun back around to face his stony expression. “Must I do everything, you insolent fool?” she roared.
He clenched his jaw at her tirade, but otherwise, kept his composure. “It seems he has an accomplice, and between the two of them, they took out two of my best men this afternoon. But it was identity of the second man that I thought you might find of particular interest.”
At his pause, she growled, “Who is it?”
“The Duke of Chiltern.”
Cordelia’s face tightened, twisting and contorting into something malicious. She pierced him with a vicious glare. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” He shrugged, apparently not concerned in the least if she believed him. “Doubt me if you wish, although you might regret it if you do. If you want to marry a man who would like nothing more than to see you hanged…”
“Enough!” She shouted with enough force to tear down the walls. “Get out of my house, you arrogant bastard!”
He smiled tolerantly. “You might reconsider how you speak to me, my lady, or
have you already forgotten our little… arrangement?” While she continued to seethe, her nails digging into her palms, he turned and headed for the door. At the frame, he paused and glanced back at her. “It wouldn’t be wise to push me too far.”
“Is that a threat?”
There was a cruel twist to his lips. “Merely a promise.” And with those parting words, he made his departure, leaving Cordelia in a rage fit enough to call down the heavens. With agitated strides, she paced her sitting room, all the while formulating a new plan.
By the time she was through, not only would Gabriel and his little whore feel her wrath — but so would the others who had forgotten their place.
Chapter Eighteen
Mivart’s Hotel was a new establishment located in the heart of the Mayfair District at number 51 Brook Street. To the onlooker, it appeared as a nothing more than a conventional terraced house, but it was quickly becoming a popular destination for tourists and the populace alike.
But as Triana stepped down from the hackney, she felt the familiar pangs of nervousness take hold. At Chiltern Hall, Travell had told her what she needed to try and find out, the key factors of that conversation replaying in her mind as she mentally prepared herself for the meeting that could either break — or crush — this perilous investigation.
At least there’s no pressure, she thought dryly, pausing as her hand was caught in a firm grip. She looked back at Gabriel. “You’ll be fine, and rest assured, I will be near should you need me.”
She gave a light nod as he released her, the imprint of his touch burning into her skin as the hackney drove around the corner onto Davies Street, where they would wait for her return.
The interior of the hotel was elegantly furnished; however, Triana didn’t take the time to appreciate her surroundings, and instead concentrated on finding Room 208. She walked upstairs to the second floor and made her way down the proper corridor, forcing her pace to remain steady, if not a bit brisk. After all, it wouldn’t help matters to draw undue attention to herself.
Triana found herself standing in front of the appropriate door, and after a quick glance around the deserted hallway, she raised her hand and knocked.
Less than a minute passed before the door behind her opened — Room 209 — and she felt the familiar prickling of alarm trail down her spine — right before a hand covered her mouth and dragged her inside. At first, she was too shocked to even cry out. But as her eyes became adjusted to the semi-darkened room, she focused on the shadowy silhouette before her. After a moment, recognition flared and she sagged in relief.
“You may release her,” Madame Corressa instructed. “I don’t believe our guest will scream now.”
The rough hand instantly fell away, and Triana glanced at her captor, feeling the blood drain from her face. A big, brutish giant of a man, he returned to stand by the door, arms crossed, like some sort of sentinel.
“Don’t mind, Bull. He has that effect on everyone, although he’s as loyal as they come.” With a slight smile, her green eyes shrewd, but welcoming, Madame Corressa patted her strawberry blond hair and held up a crystal decanter filled with a dark liquid. “Sherry?”
Triana gratefully accepted the glass that was handed to her and took a hearty gulp. While she normally declined spirits, she needed something to calm her frazzled nerves after being promptly frightened out of her wits.
“I’m sure you understand my heightened need for security,” The other woman remarked. She gestured to their surroundings, and added, “A woman in my position can’t be too careful.”
“I understand, Miss Freewater.” Triana’s voice shook slightly, so she took another sip of her drink.
“Surely we can dispense with the formalities, Triana. After all, I thought we were friends?”
At her raised brow, Triana nodded her agreement.
“Splendid.” Constance gave a satisfied smile and settled back in her chair. “Now, as you can imagine, my time is very limited, so let’s get to the point of your visit, shall we?”
“Of course.” Triana concurred, only too happy to put a swift end to this meeting. While Madame Corressa herself was rather imposing, she felt decidedly uncomfortable with her bodyguard standing nearby. Not to mention this entire situation in general. “I understand you were…” She paused, not sure how to continue, then finally found the word. “…associated with the captain of the Evening Swan and might be privy to some valuable information regarding some…” Again, she was uncertain how to phrase it. “Er… nocturnal activities.”
Madame Corressa eyed Triana with an amused tilt to her lips. “If what you are trying to say is if I was Captain Hildegard’s mistress, then yes, that is true. As for anything else…” She tilted her head to the side and regarded her guest closely. “What makes you think I should trust you with my secrets?”
Triana answered in all honesty. “It’s a matter of life and death.”
“Ah, isn’t it always?” Constance offered a wan smile. “Surely you can do better than that.” Leaning forward, she narrowed her green gaze. “How about you tell me why you really want to know?”
Triana recalled that this woman liked a straightforward approach, so after draining the rest of her glass for some liquid courage and setting it aside, she said, “Very well. I do confess to having my own motives, although I’m not sure you will think it all that noble.”
Constance simply said, “Try me.”
So Triana plunged forward with the sordid truth. “Until recently, I was simply a name among society. A woman no one bothered to truly get to know, unless it was through a satirical article in the paper. So when I dared to take a risk with someone I knew was not meant for me, I was ridiculed, ostracized, and even betrothed to a man I absolutely loathe in spite of it. But I wouldn’t change a single moment of my time with him — even if the opportunity arose to do it all over — because he gave me the courage to believe in myself when no one else did. While I may not ever experience lasting love, I can say I held it in my grip for a t
ime and was better because of it.” She took a deep breath, and concluded, “That, Constance, is why I approached you at the opera and why I came here today. After all this man has done for me, I feel that I owe him this, at least.”
Constance regarded her thoughtfully. “Hmmm.” It was all she said before setting aside her glass and lifting a delicate brow. “You are aware of the danger you are putting yourself in by associating yourself with me and the things I might tell you, and yet you are willing to do so anyway?”
“I am.” Triana lifted her chin. “I don’t care what happens to me. My brother and this man — they are what matter.”
“Tell me this, Triana,” Constance said quietly. “Are you prepared to die, all in the name of love?”
“If that’s what it takes,” Triana admitted. “Then yes.”
“I see.” After a brief pause, the other woman gave a decisive nod. “Well, I suppose that answers my question. I just hope Chiltern realizes how lucky he is to have such a devoted woman for his cause.”
Triana’s eyes widened. “How did you… .?” But she shook her head and answered her own question. “I suppose it’s not really a secret.”
Constance shrugged. “You would be shocked at all the things in society that reach my ears. Things people don’t want circulated.” With a coy smile, she said, “But let’s get back on track, shall we? You wished to learn about the smuggling.”
Triana hesitated, her mouth twisting with amusement. “Does that mean I passed the test, even though my only excuse is that of a hopeless romantic?”
“My dear, is there any other kind?” Constance gave a light laugh that Triana found herself joining. “But I’m telling you my secrets because there are so few women in society worth their salt, and I see a kindred spirit in you. It’s for that reason, and no other, that I am willing to comply with your request.”
“I feel honored that you trust me,” Triana said sincerely, feeling she’d been given the ultimate compliment.
The courtesan’s green eyes shone suspiciously, and she glanced to the side. “I do believe we might have been true friends in another life,” Constance said softly. After a moment, she was composed once more. “I was with Captain Reginald Hildegard for nearly thirteen months. At the time of our original association, he was simply a ship merchant by trade — anything illegal would come later. I found him agreeable, naturally because he was a satisfactory lover and liked to spend money on me, although he always promised that once his finances improved he would take me abroad.” With a light roll of her eyes, she added, “I know never to hold my breath when it comes to any sort of vow made by the male species, so I simply ignored his ramblings as just that — until he started to change.”
Her eyes became unfocused, and Triana realized that her mind was flooded with memories. “He became more withdrawn and irritable about a year into our relationship. I started to wonder if perhaps he might be having an affair, although I never found any evidence of it. That’s when I stumbled onto more than I’d bargained for.” She paused meaningfully.
“I’d stayed abreast of any rumors from the underground, and I began hearing talk of a smuggling ring. Of course, no one knew any particulars about it. It was only when I overheard Reginald talking to his cohort, Captain Spalling of the Clara Belle, that I was able to put two and two together.” She shrugged. “He said he was doing it for us, that the payoff would be worth the danger, but I didn’t see the benefits of tying myself to a man who would likely be convicted of treason and end up swinging from the end of a rope, so I ended the affair and moved on to Huntington shortly thereafter.”
Constance picked up her glass again, her face showing none of her true emotion, although Triana noticed the subtle tightening around her mouth and the haunted look in her eyes, and she knew the woman’s heart had been truly bruised.
“I’m sorry,” Triana said quietly.
Her companion gave a sad smile. “He made his choice, and he’ll have to pay the consequences for it. I’m just thankful I won’t be there to share in his downfall.”
For a moment, Triana allowed the silence to envelope them, having been caught up in the poignant tale, but now she asked, “Do you know where the exchanges are taking place?”
Her expression was now wiped clear, any ill effects having been firmly pushed aside. “Reginald meets with Spalling’s ship at a designated rendezvous point along the coast, but it’s different every time. Something to do with a set of codes.”
Triana knew that Ridge was already working on the codes, so she moved on. “What about the smuggled cargo? How are they getting it loaded onto the Evening Star undetected?”
“His ship is merely a diversion from what’s going on behind the scenes.” Constance stated matter of fact. “There is a French spy who carries messages and cargo back and forth from the Clara Belle to the Evening Swan on land. But it’s all just an illusion.”
Triana frowned. “For what?”
“The larger operation that is taking place before the vessels even dock in the harbor.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. Surely, the…”
Abruptly, realization dawned, and it was enough to make her sick.
Madame Corressa shook her head almost sadly. “Surely you didn’t think this was just a small operation with only two or three ships involved?” She sighed. “There are hundreds.”
“The East India Company,” Triana whispered. “They know.”
“Oh, yes.” Constance concurred. “They are most certainly aware and are actively involved.”
By this time, Triana’s head was spinning. “But the Regent asked my brother to stop the smuggling. Why would he do that if he already knew—?”
Constance quickly cut in to clarify. “I didn’t say he knew everything, only that he has likely been apprised of the situation for some time. He’s only involved now because he’s realized he isn’t getting the largest share of the profits. That honor goes to the one in charge of this operation and even the EIC hasn’t been able to stop them.”
Triana sat back in her chair, utterly deflated. “How did all this even begin to take place?”
“Who knows?” Madame Corressa answered. “Money? A struggle for power or position in Parliament, perhaps? That’s what it’s usually about. Any government can be as corrupt as an individual with a personal vendetta.”
“This is unbelievable,” Triana murmured. Still trying to let it all sink in, she felt her hope slowly fading. Surely there was no way to wrap up this conspiracy in the span of a week in order to keep her brother and Gabriel out of the Tower.
“Someone’s coming,” Bull stated in his deep, stoic voice.
Triana’s heart suddenly jumped into her throat as she and Constance rose to their feet. “I fear our meeting is at an end, although that is all I can tell you. Hopefully, it will be enough.”
Triana reached out and enveloped Madame Corressa in a quick, impulsive hug. “Thank you. For everything.”
Constance nodded as she led Triana toward a door on the far side of the wall. “This leads to the adjoining room, and from there, you ought to be able to slip out undetected in a few moments.” She gave a sly grin. “You’ll find I don’t leave anything to chance.”
“They’re getting closer,” Bull noted as he came to stand by Constance, impatience radiating off of him in waves.
Triana grabbed hold of the other woman’s hand and squeezed gently, and then she shut the door behind her.
***
Triana hastily made her way back through the hotel, her breath coming in sharp pants, as if she’d just run the length of London, rather than navigating a few, short hallways. She saw an older gentleman walking toward her as she reached the bottom of the staircase that led to the lobby, but only when he reached out and grabbed hold of her arm did she give a startled gasp. But it didn’t take her long to realize it was Gabriel. He might be wearing a false moustache and wig, his shoulders stooped just slightly, but she would know those mesmerizing silver eyes anywhere.
>
“Follow me,” he murmured. He glanced about to make sure they weren’t being observed, and guided her toward a side exit, but pulled her into a deserted closet at the last minute.
The door had barely shut when he pulled her into his arms. “Thank God you’re safe,” he breathed, his warm breath on her skin causing her toes to curl in her slippers. He dipped his head and devoured her mouth, barely giving her time to catch her breath — or her senses. “God, how I’ve missed you, Triana. Please tell me you forgive me for leaving. Surely you realize I had no choice.”
His hand moved up to cup her breast through her gown, and she moaned. In that moment she would have forgiven him any transgression. But the simple fact was, she couldn’t stay angry with him because she’d missed him desperately. “I… forgive you.” She began to tremble as he lifted up her skirts.
“I want you, Triana,” he whispered, his voice seductive and husky. He began to stroke her. “You’re so wet for me, so beautiful...” She arched her back against the wall as his fingers continued their pleasing assault.
On fire with her need for him, Triana began fumbling with the falls of his trousers. “Gabriel… please…” She knew she was begging, but she didn’t care. She just wanted him to fill this ache inside of her — to be one again.
He granted her plea, guiding himself into her womanly passage, and taking what she offered with one full thrust. He lifted her and wrapped her legs around his waist until she was straddling him. She was braced against the wall, as they kissed and caressed and spoke nonsensical words as the driving need burned out of control and consumed them both. Triana moaned, convulsing rapidly as he groaned and let his seed fill her.
Once their breathing had slowed, he released her legs and she slid down his length, but when her feet touched the floor, she swayed unsteadily. “Whoa. Easy there.” Gabriel said with a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Triana, having completely forgotten about his disguise, took one look at him and started to giggle. She couldn’t help it. It just looked so… ridiculous now that their passion had been spent.
Triana's Spring Seduction Page 22
