A Christmas Code (The Code Breakers Series Book 2) Page 2
“If you’ll excuse us. I’ve promised this dance to Lady Gwyneth.” Ash gripped her arm tightly as he led her toward the dance floor.
“You didn’t give me time to say good night to your newest paramour. Really, Ash, she looks a bit old for you.”
* * *
Ash stopped at the edge of the dance floor and looked into Gwyneth’s unfathomable eyes. She had the same mischievous look she had in childhood, when she would follow Cord and him and think she had bested them in some prank. But this wasn’t some childish game. This was dangerous.
“You have no idea what you’re meddling in. Walk with me. I need to speak with you.”
She bit down on her lower lip, bringing attention to the warm, moist, pink surface. Hot desire flared through his body again at the irresistible temptation she presented. He couldn’t get sidetracked when he had a mission, a serious mission. The minx wet her plump lower lip with her tongue. Was she doing this to addle him?
“I’m not meddling. I wanted to meet the lady who has attracted your notice. We’re old family friends. I don’t think the lady could misconstrue my interest.”
“Gwyneth.” He tried to sound authoritative, but instead his voice came out plaintive.
He led her out to a darkened corner on the balcony. He needed to stop her interference in his mission while not drawing attention to their relationship. He didn’t want his enemies to know of his regard for her.
He couldn’t let her get close to these people. He hated what he needed to do, but it was for her safety. He couldn’t let her be involved. Once he had broken the ring of spies, he’d make it up to her. She understood how he felt about her. Keenly observant, Gwyneth knew him better than anyone.
She stepped closer to him, her enticing body wrapped as a present in soft, seductive blue silk, ready for him to open. His breathing deepened to aggressive surges. He didn’t dare look down at her creamy white breasts or he might not be responsible for what happened next.
“Ash?”
The way she said his name in a throaty, seductive voice sent a bolt of desire straight up his spine. Her black, slanted eyes were wide and mysterious, staring into his. She had no idea how potent an effect that look precipitated. Or maybe she did.
He was so damn tired of this spy business, always postponing his needs for those of the country. If he gave her any hint of his purpose in attending the country party, she’d be dogging his footsteps, trying to prove she could help him. He didn’t want her as a spy. He knew the toll the subterfuge and lies took on a person.
“You must celebrate Christmas with Cord and your aunt. The country party is not for the likes of you. The society who attend Prinny’s parties are.”
“Then you’re not going?” She scrutinized him with those innocent eyes.
“I’m going, but you’re not. The party is for older, experienced women, which you are not.”
“But that is exactly why I’ve decided to go. I might not be able to advance my age, but I can acquire experience.” She leaned closer and whispered tauntingly, “I’m so weary of being kissed by honorable gentlemen.”
Every muscle in his body constricted in reaction. “Who has been kissing you?” He actually growled the words then grabbed her shoulders. “And do not tell me that Henley is involved. He’s a rake of the first order.”
She batted her long, dark lashes at him. “Takes one to know one.”
She was soft, warm, and pliant. He wanted to run his hands along her silky skin.
“He’s pledged that he was done with his wildness. He said he’d give up all women if I’d consent…”
Ash couldn’t suppress the surge of pure masculine possessiveness and anger. Henley wouldn’t be pursuing Cord’s innocent sister unless he was seriously interested. He pulled her closer, his hands tightening on her shoulders. “You let him kiss you?”
A tiny crack had begun to erode his confidence. He assumed that Gwyneth would be his when he could finally break away from the damn spy business.
When she tried to pull away, he wrapped his arms around her, inhaling deeply the scent of wildflowers, outdoors, and the special scent of Gwyneth. He wanted her against him, to feel her woman’s softness melting around him.
“I would never kiss and tell—that would be unladylike. I’ve had five marriage proposals this season. You can’t expect a girl not to explore whether she wants the gentleman.”
There it was again—that innocent look. How she played him, like the violinist playing a sonata.
“I won’t be distracted by the change in topics. We were discussing why you must not attend the Christmas party.” As always in interacting with her, he felt light and young. She made him smile, the minx.
“Are you distracted by me?” She fingered the lapel of his jacket. For a country miss, she was an exotic temptress, more so than any highly paid courtesan.
He stopped her hand from wandering by closing his hand over hers. “Gwyneth, I forbid you to go to the party.”
She pulled her hand away. “I don’t need your permission to go to the party.”
“Then I’m going to speak to Cord about your plans.”
“You’ve no right to interfere with my holiday plans.” A tendril of her thick black hair hung across her right eye. With her strong chin and delectable chest thrust forward, she looked like a pagan queen ready for battle.
“I’ve every right, and you know it.” He pulled her hard against him and took her lips in a deliberate, demanding way. He held her tightly as his tongue darted in and out of her warm moisture. Once he felt her soften against him, he lightened the pressure of his lips and ran his tongue along the edge of her lower lip. “So sweet.” And so innocent. What was he doing? He had to get back to the ballroom and he didn’t want to think about her reaction to his public pursuit of Lady Charolois.
She ran her hand through his hair, down his neck. “Oh, Ash.” She crushed her voluptuous curves closer. “Our first real kiss.” Her voice was filled with wonder.
Perhaps he had made their first kiss too carnal, but she had pushed him. She was always pushing him, but clearly they both liked the tantalizing result.
“I must get you back to your aunt. She’ll have my hide if she knew we were out on the balcony alone.”
“Aunt Euphemia is playing cards. She won’t mind.”
“Oh, I think she’ll mind a great deal if I ruin your reputation. And Cord…”
“I wouldn’t mind…” There was the young girl he knew—always testing the limits. And she was a challenging provocation—the way she posed with dewy lips, the moonlight dancing across her creamy skin.
He placed her hand on his arm. He avoided looking at her since, if he did, he’d need to kiss her again, and then they would never stop. He needed to get back to his goal in attending this ball. He was glad he and Gwyneth had come to an amiable agreement. He’d always enjoy the way they settled their differences.
Chapter Two
Gwyneth leaned back against the velvet cushions of the carriage and looked at her energetic aunt. Aunt Euphemia never divulged her age, but Gwyneth knew she had passed sixty. Following another demanding late night, her aunt didn’t look the least bit tired even though it was nearly dawn.
“Well, spit it out. I can tell you’re in a taking.”
“I’m not. Well, maybe a little… Aunt Euphemia, how do I become a spy?”
Her aunt slapped her purple-draped knee and guffawed. “Not the question I was expecting.” Her favorite aunt tilted her head to one side, causing her turban filled with flowers to lean precariously.
“Gel, what’s going through that spinning brain of yours?”
“I want to help our country. I have talents, but don’t know how to use them. I want to be like you and Henrietta.”
“What has brought this on? Something with Ash?”
“Yes…no… I don’t know.”
“Didn’t Amelia’s newest creation get the results you expected from Ash?”
“He kissed me.”
“He was worried that you’d be upset.”
“Was he now? It makes me happy to hear he’s still intimated by the likes of an old woman. Well, if he’s declared his intentions, why are you thinking about becoming a spy?”
“I do love him and want to be his wife, but I want what Henrietta and Cord have. Cord respects her for her talents, not just because she’s beautiful and wonderful. I want Ash to respect me. Right now, he thinks of me as a silly young girl, always following after him.”
Aunt Euphemia smiled. “Yes, I didn’t think you’d ever settle for less. But men don’t think that way. They feel their job is to protect women and keep them safe, away from the workings of the world.”
“Pshaw. With you and Henrietta as an example, how can Ash think I’d be satisfied not being part of his entire life? I want to be his partner.”
“What are you planning? He won’t take lightly to your interference.”
“When I told Ash that I planned to spend Christmas at Edworth’s, he forbade me from attending. When I told him he didn’t have the right, he said he would speak to Cord. Aunt Euphemia, can’t you go with me to the Edworth’s party?”
“I don’t enjoy travel in the winter.” Her aunt rubbed her knees. “My old bones, you know. I planned to stay with Cord, Henrietta, Charles, and Edward. Is this the party that the Prince of Wales is supposed to attend?”
“Yes. I don’t know what all the fuss is about, but Ash is working on something with Sir Ramsay and Lady Charolois, and he’s forbidden me to participate.”
“Interesting.”
“Ash is getting very friendly with Lady Charolois. At first I thought she might work for the Intelligence Office, but the way she was looking at Ash, I don’t believe she’s in our country’s employ. Ash is trying to court her favor. I could help. I could make friends with the lady. I’m very observant.”
Aunt Euphemia was shaking her head. “You are very perceptive, but if they’re worried that Lady Charolois has surreptitious connections, I don’t think putting yourself in that position would be wise. If she is a spy, she might use your connection to Cord against you.”
“I wouldn’t be doing anything to alert the lady. And you must agree that ladies spend a great deal of time together at house parties, and I might glean information that Ash could never obtain.”
“Let me talk to Ramsay and find out what the concerns are. Then we can decide.”
“I knew I could count on you, Aunt Euphemia. You’re a dear.”
“Don’t lay it on too thick. I didn’t say we’d attend.”
“Oh, I can always tell when you’re interested.”
Chapter Three
Ash paced in front of Cord’s massive desk. What could possibly be delaying his ever-punctual friend? Cord was usually at his office by nine AM sharp to deal with his heavy responsibilities as the Head of British Secret Intelligence.
Ten minutes later, Cord sauntered into the office. His posture relaxed—lacking his usual determined demeanor.
“Ash, what brings you to the office so early? Have you news about the threat?”
Cord handed his personal secretary his wet coat and umbrella. Cord hummed as he walked to the window where the rain beat against the panes. “Wonderful morning, isn’t it?”
What the hell? His friend never hummed and it was a God-awful day with torrential rain and wind to boot. “I’ve never seen you act like this.”
Cord turned back from the window with a wide grin across his face. “Acting how?”
“Cheerful.”
Cord gave a hearty belly laugh. “You make it sound sinful to be happy.”
Ash wasn’t happy, and his closest friend’s obvious pleasure only worsened his mood.
Since Cord had married Henrietta, his entire manner had transformed. His childhood friend had returned to the happy young man he had been before his older brother had died. Cord now laughed readily and was openly affectionate with his friends and family.
“I received wonderful…rather miraculous news this morning.”
“Wonderful” and “miraculous” would never have crossed the lips of the old, cynical Cord. Ash didn’t want his friend to be unhappy, but this gooey happiness was hard to stomach.
Ash moved toward the window in the gloomy, dim office to catch a closer look at his friend’s face. How could his friend look so completely different? The usual tired, world-weary lines around Cord’s eyes and mouth had vanished. The man looked blissful, at peace.
“This miracle is more than you walking around with an idiotic grin on your face?”
“I’m to be a father.”
The news hit like a blow to Ash’s chest. “A father? This is a shock.” His entire familiar world shifted below his feet.
“Who’d believe that in a few short months, I’d be a married man and now an expectant father.” Cord shook his head.
“Congratulations, old man.” Ash clasped his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “We need to toast the auspicious announcement.”
“Yes, a drink seems in order. I haven’t had time to grasp the news. Rather a surprising way to start the morning.”
Cord walked to the heavy mahogany cabinet and opened the door to reach his most prized carafe of port. He poured each of them a snifter of ruby red liquid. Both men inhaled the heavy fruity scent.
Ash raised his glass. “To Lady Henrietta.”
“To my amazing wife.” Cord’s lips curved into a satisfied smile and a look of wistfulness filled his eyes.
Ash’s own emotions were in turmoil. He felt the distance growing wider between himself and his closest childhood friend. He didn’t know what it felt like to make the ultimate commitment to a woman. His thoughts immediately went to Gwyneth as a mother. She’d be incredible—gentle and nurturing.
“You mustn’t share the news. We just found out this morning, and Henrietta wants to tell my aunt and sister when we are all together.”
“Speaking of your sister, how could you allow her to go to the Edworth’s Christmas party?” Ash couldn’t keep the hostility out of his voice. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Cord laughed loudly and slapped Ash on the back. “Allow? You’ve got a lot to learn about women. You never tell women that you’re allowing them to do anything. That gets their backs up, and then you can never, never win. Trust me—as an old married man.”
Ash wasn’t sure he liked this new side of Cord. He was a male and should support the male point of view. “You’ve only been married six weeks.”
“And speaking of my sister, you’d better not be applying your experience before the wedding.”
Immediately Ash felt his face turning red. Hell, he never blushed. It was feminine.
Snifter in hand, Cord sat at his desk as Ash took a seat across from him in one of the hefty chairs. Whenever Ash thought of his demanding kiss and the way Gwyneth melted for him, a surge of hunger hurtled through him.
Cord suddenly didn’t look as congenial as his eyes narrowed on Ash’s face. Ash took the offensive. “Why would you put Gwyneth’s safety at risk? You know what is at stake.”
“You made the party much more alluring to Gwyneth by forbidding her to go and by telling her that you’d talk with me.”
“She told you?”
“No, she told Aunt Euphemia who told me. I’m trying to help you. Benefit from my mistakes with Henrietta. I forbade her to be involved with the danger surrounding her brother’s disappearance. Her response was to immediately circumvent me and almost get herself killed.”
“I don’t know what to expect at the party, but my intelligence is solid. There is going to be a threat against Prinny, possibly from the French Jacobins. It might be nothing, or it could be deadly.”
“But why would the French extremists want to threaten the Prince of Wales? We share common goals. We want to get rid of Napoleon as badly they do. The Jacobins hate Napoleon for making himself Emperor and abandoning all of
his liberal leanings. He got rid of all of his Jacobin supporters by either murdering or exiling them. Why come after the English?”
“It makes no sense. But I need to assume it’s a threat against Prinny. He did make it public that he plans to attend,” Ash said.
“I agree that we have to take the threat seriously, but I hate when I can’t deduce the logic. Prinny isn’t political at all. He’s much more interested in his art collection and dissipation.”
“Yes, but he is the Prince of Wales. And his father is severely ill.”
“I understand, but the threat against Prinny should be by Napoleon supporters, not Jacobins.”
“You will warn him?”
“I’ve an audience with him this afternoon to tell him of the possible threat and to suggest he remain in London for the holiday.”
“I’d rest easier if he didn’t come.”
“Prinny is like Gwyneth. If you warn him against attending, he’ll want to come simply to make a point.”
“God, this is a mess. I don’t want her to attend when we don’t know what we’re up against.”
“She can be a help to you. Gwyneth is quite observant and very skilled with people.”
“You want me to confide in your sister about our work with the French spy underground and their possible intelligence that there might a threat against the Prince of Wales at this party?”
“God, no. I didn’t mean that you should tell her about the danger, but if you tell her you’re following a lead tying Lady Charolois to French spies, she’ll feel more involved. And she might be able to observe things that you can’t. Women are much more sensitive to the nuances of society.”
“Your sister is a sheltered and innocent woman. She knows nothing about French spies. She will be an added distraction. I’ll be worrying about her safety instead of focusing on the danger to the prince.”