A Spy Unmasked (Entangled Scandalous) (9 page)

“Then I bid you good night.”

“Wait. What shall I do?” she asked eagerly.

He was again reminded of her inexperience in espionage. “Exactly what Wendover advised. Talk to the women.”

He tried to walk by her, but she grasped his arm. His nostrils flared as he breathed in her intoxicating scent.

Her perfume reminded him of a garden of summer roses.

It made him think of where she dabbed it…her wrists, the slender column of her throat, in between her breasts.
Jesu
! It was like she was trying to test his will. Had she any idea the effect she had on him? Looking into emerald eyes, he saw unwavering spirit and innocence.

“What about you?” she asked.

“What about me?” His voice was harsh to his own ears.

She sighed impatiently. “What are
you
going to do while I’m talking to the ladies?”

“Don’t concern yourself.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

“I told you before, I work alone.”

Her glorious eyes flashed in defiance. “I told you before, I don’t care.”

“Sophia?”

Footsteps sounded on the marble floor, and Jane came around the corner. She halted, her lips parting in surprise at seeing Sophia alone with him. “Good evening, my lord. Did you enjoy the entertainment?” she asked.

His lips compressed. “It was as fascinating as it was unusual.”

“Yes, it was,” Jane said.

“I was just bidding Sophia good night.” He gallantly bowed to them before departing.

…

By the time Sophia joined the women in the drawing room she was in a foul mood. Taking a seat beside Emma Brass, Sophia feigned interest in the women’s talk of the latest French fashions and sipped her wine.

Stay out of his business, be damned! She
refused to play a passive role when it was her father’s murder Robert was investigating.

She understood Robert’s hesitation after her show of fear at seeing Viscount Delmont for the first time since the masquerade ball. Her initial anxiety about being in close proximity to him was not entirely gone, but she now knew how to mask her emotions.

She would not be put in her place like a fresh-faced debutante out of the schoolroom. She was twenty-four years old, and she had survived sharing a meal with her father’s murderer. She would do whatever it took to see those responsible pay. She just needed to convince Robert of her usefulness and unwavering resolve.

If only he weren’t so attractive. She wondered if she would ever get used to looking at him. But that was part of his persona, wasn’t it? The man could transform himself from cunning spy into a charming gentleman with efficient ruthlessness. His looks were just another weapon in his arsenal.

She straightened her spine and clenched the wineglass. She had never been one to take no for an answer when she truly desired something. Hadn’t she slipped into Delmont’s masquerade unnoticed? Hadn’t she found her way into the viscount’s guarded wing and private study that night? If Robert thought to ignore her and set her aside, then he was in for a rude awakening.

After the ship battle she had tried to tell him she intended to play a bigger role in the investigation. But Jane had interrupted.

She would wait until tonight, after the men and women retired for the evening, before slipping out of her room to have a private word with him.

Chapter Eleven

Robert knew precisely where to begin his search that night. Tossing aside his boots, he lay in his bed fully clothed—arms folded behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles.

He waited until the mantle clock displayed the hour he’d awaited—two in the morning. The guests would be fast asleep in their rooms to be well rested for a hunt that Delmont had announced would take place in the morning.

He rose and slipped out of the room. The servants had long ago snuffed the candles in the wall sconces. Only one candle burned low at the end of the hall by the balcony leading to the winding staircase. He preferred the night, and his eyes and ears were well attuned to flickering shadows on the flocked wallpaper and the slight creak of a floorboard.

He descended the grand stairs and stepped into the vestibule. The Italian marble was cool beneath his stockinged feet. Turning the corner, he walked down the long hall and stopped before Delmont’s study.

The door was closed, and no light shone beneath it. He turned the handle and slipped inside.

More darkness.

The smell of linseed oil and leather furniture permeated the space. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a candle and lit a match. The small glow revealed closed velvet curtains across a window behind a desk. Two leather armchairs were situated before a stone fireplace; directly across from the chairs a sofa rested against the east wall. A large world globe sat upon an end table in the corner beside the sofa.

Lighting a lamp with his candle, he circled the study. Wendover’s map had indicated the safe was most likely located behind a Gainsborough portrait. But a quick glance behind the gilt frame confirmed Robert’s suspicions.

Nothing. Delmont was too savvy for such a predictable location.

Rolling back an Oriental carpet, he found the safe beneath the sofa.

A floor safe?

Considering the viscount’s size and girth it was an unlikely location. Robert’s lips twitched as an image of Delmont struggling on his hands and knees to open the lock came to him.

Placing the lamp on a floorboard beside the safe, he crouched to examine the Barron lever-tumbler lock, named after its inventor Robert Barron. The lock was cleverly recessed so that it would not create a noticeable lump in the carpet should the sofa be moved.

Robert withdrew his lock picks from his pocket and laid them on the floorboards. He chose a long thin rod and slipped it into the lock. Using a “tickling” technique, he carefully maneuvered each of the five levers in the lock, raising them one by one to the correct height. Only when all five levers were raised and lined up in the correct height would the lock open.

It was a painfully slow process, but the best method to avoid destroying the lock. He could remove the contents and then close the safe with no one able to tell it had been tampered with.

But he had to be careful. The lock was spring-loaded. One wrong move—a fraction too high—and he could trigger the spring, causing a lever to snap down and prohibit further manipulation.

By the time he had raised four of the levers to the proper height, sweat beaded his brow. Crouching over his work, his back throbbed and the muscles between his shoulder blades ached. He had worked in worse conditions in the past, of course, and this wasn’t his first difficult lock.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and concentrated on the pick in his hand.

Focus.
This wasn’t any different from the hundreds of safes he’d opened before.

At last the lever rose and he was rewarded with a slight
click
as the lock opened.

Just then voices sounded outside the door.

He snuffed out the lamp and froze. Damn. He had been so engrossed in the safe he hadn’t heard footsteps. Crouching behind the sofa, the room was dim save for a sliver of moonlight from the cracked curtains.

He hoped it was servants passing, uninterested in the study. He would not relish being forced to incapacitate anyone in order to preserve his anonymity. He strained to hear, his heart pounding.

“Lady Sophia, what are you doing up wandering the halls?”

Robert recognized Delmont’s voice. The viscount’s question reverberated through Robert’s mind as well. What
was
she doing up?

“Pardon, my lord,”
Sophia said.
“I couldn’t sleep and thought to get some warm milk from the kitchen.”

“You should have called for a servant.”

“I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone my first night here.”

“Nonsense.”

“Why are you up, my lord?”

“Please call me Edward. I often spend time in my study late at night.”

“I admit I’m glad you found me, Edward. I tend to be frightened of the dark. If it’s not too much trouble, perhaps you can escort me back to my room.”

“I’d be honored.”

Christ! Robert suspected what Sophia was up to. She had somehow followed him and knew he was in the study accessing the safe. She was flirting with the viscount, encouraging his attentions in an effort to aid him.

He should be thankful, yet he felt anything but gratitude. The emotions surging through his veins were as uncomfortable as they were unfamiliar. He struggled with the ridiculous urge to burst through the study door and strangle Delmont with his bare hands.

Snatching up the contents of the safe—a single folded sheet of paper—he held it up to the moonlight, but there wasn’t enough light to read the small script. He dared not linger. Refolding the paper, he tucked it into his pocket.

Just before he closed the door, a glint of gold at the bottom of the safe caught his eye. Reaching down, he picked up a small gold gear. It was identical to the ones Wendover had found on the bodies of the murdered inventors. He returned it to the safe and secured the lock.

Opening the study door, he blended into the shadows.

…

“I’m grateful you found me tonight, my lord,” Sophia said.

Delmont’s gaze raked her nightgown and wrapper. He carried a lamp, and the glow illuminated the lust in his eyes. Although the cotton covered every inch of her person and was demure, clearly his thoughts were not.

“It’s Edward, remember?” he said hoarsely.

“Yes, Edward,” she breathed.

Looking up into Delmont’s florid face, she feigned an ease she didn’t feel. She had left her room in the middle of the night intending to confront Robert. But when she had knocked on his bedchamber door and he did not answer, she knew he was prowling the house, sneaking into rooms—doing what he did best.

She had wondered where he would start. The study was her first guess. She’d crept downstairs and was making her way along the hall where a faint light beneath the study’s closed door had confirmed her suspicions. Before she could press her ear to the door, the scrape of booted feet sounded on the marble tile. Seconds later, the viscount’s large frame had turned the corner.

Flee,
her mind had screamed. But through the sickening panic that tied her guts in knots, an inner voice of reason had prevailed.

Robert needed her.

Little by little, warmth crept back into her along with a plan. The study couldn’t be the only room that held Delmont’s secrets. Robert would require opportunity, and if that meant distracting the viscount, then she could ensure that Robert had all the time he needed. Maybe then he would treat her as an equal partner in the investigation.

Under the guise of returning to her room, she steered the viscount away from the study.

“Pray tell me, why couldn’t you sleep tonight?” Delmont asked.

She hesitated and licked her bottom lip. Instantly his eyes were drawn to her mouth.

“I was thinking of my father,” she whispered.

They reached the bottom of the grand staircase. He held the lamp high, and the light flickered off his dark eyes. “My dear Sophia. It must be difficult for a young, unmarried lady to live alone.”

“I am to be married to Lord Kirkland soon.”

Something disturbing replaced his smoldering look. “Nevertheless, I insist you come to me for anything.”

“Is that proper?”

“Lord Kirkland is new to the title. I am older and established and can open many doors in society for you.” He touched her cheek, then lowered his hand to her shoulder. “It will be our secret. No one needs to know.”

Her skin crawled beneath the cotton. “The viscountess is a fortunate woman.”

The reminder of his wife did nothing to cool his look of lust. “I shall escort you to your door.”

“No!” She touched his sleeve to soften her words. “No thank you, Edward. My cousin, Lady Stanwell, is sharing my chambers. I wouldn’t want anyone to learn of our new friendship. I do wish to see you again.”

His eyes smoldered. “Soon,” he urged.

“Yes, soon,” she promised, then fled up the stairs.

…

Once alone in his bedchamber, Robert didn’t have to wait long. A soft knock sounded, and he opened the door.

Sophia stood in her nightgown and wrapper, and although the embroidered, white cotton covered her from her neck to her wrists down to her dainty slippers, he froze as if she had appeared stark naked at his door.

He might be celibate by choice, but he wasn’t a monk, and his eyes were drawn to the swell of her breasts, the voluptuous curve of her hips. With the flickering candlelight behind her, he could make out the shape of a hip, a long, slender leg. Her hair was loose, a bounty of chestnut tresses any red-blooded male would long to touch as he kissed her full lips.

His groin tightened, and he felt the inevitable stirrings of lust. He scowled at the thought that Delmont had seen her dressed like this, had been alone with her in the dim halls.

He motioned her inside with a jerk of his hand and shut the door.

She whirled to face him. “What did you find?”

“What were you thinking?”

“I thought to find you.”

“Why?”

“I told you. I won’t be put aside. My father was murdered. I have a right to be involved, and it’s not in my nature to sit back and do nothing. I refuse to obey your ridiculous orders.”

His eyes narrowed. “I was right. Your rashness is dangerous.”

Every curve of her body spoke defiance. “If it wasn’t for my rashness, you would have been caught.”

“I won’t deny you prevented the viscount from walking into his study, but I can handle myself.”

“How? By killing him?”

“That would have been unwise. It would definitely have put the mastermind on notice. I would have used other means to disable him. He never would have seen me.”

She bit her bottom lip. “I see.”

His voice hardened. “Stay away from Delmont.”

“Please, at least tell me what you found.”

He hesitated, then decided it was better to give her the information. He had no intention of fully involving her in his investigation, but if she knew which men were involved, then she could best draw out their wives as well as take appropriate measures to protect herself. He withdrew the folded sheet from his waistcoat pocket and handed it to her.

“What is it?”

“A list of names.”

She unfolded the paper and scanned it. “Maxwell and Falk and several others are listed.” She looked up at him. “You think these are members of a select, secret group amongst the Inventors’ Society?”

“Yes. There was also one gold gear in the safe, similar to the ones found on the dead men.”

“Perhaps it belongs to the mastermind.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I believe one more member is to be inducted. I suspect it will happen this week.”

“It could be meant for one of the new members, Mr. Brass or Mr. Heinz,” she pointed out.

“Or maybe one of the older members, like Lord Cameron,” he said.

The color drained from her face. “Not Lord Cameron! He was my father’s good friend.”

Robert let out a slow breath. “Sophia, I never did tell you, but I am sorry about Haverton’s death. He was a good man.”

Her voice wavered. “You knew my father?”

“We met briefly on several occasions.”

The change in topic had clearly caught her off guard. Her green eyes widened, deep pools of appeal a man could drown in.

Control yourself, man! Think of Gwendolyn
.

Sophia was no different from any of the women who had tested his will. He had resisted them all, just as he would her.

She touched his sleeve, and he started to sweat, almost as much as when he had crouched over the Barron lock.

“The list is a good start,” he said, steering the conversation away from her father, the one topic that made her lower lip tremble and pain flicker in her eyes. She appeared vulnerable and withdrawn, a woman in need of comfort.

But he was not the man to give her what she needed, dammit.

“If we know who the members are we can watch them and discern what they are up to. The answer may be in the viscount’s other safes,” he said.

She lifted her eyes, once again focused on the task rather than any painful memories. “How else can I help?”

“The women, remember?”

“Right. Lady Maxwell and Lady Falk are talkative. I’ll start with them.” She tilted her head, studying him. “But I want to do more. What about Delmont’s bedchamber? My father always kept his letters patents and other important documents in his room. I can distract the viscount while you—”

“No. I told you to stay away from Delmont,” he growled.

If she was taken aback by his harsh tone, she did not show it. Handing him back the list of names, she asked, “Won’t Delmont notice this missing from his safe?”

“I’m returning it tonight.”

“You’re going back?”

“Yes. Don’t follow me.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? What if Delmont returns?”

At the sight of her obvious distress, something odd lurched in his chest. It had been a long, long time since anyone had cared. He couldn’t help himself; he raised her chin with his thumb. “I’ve done this countless times before.”

“I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. How would I reach Wendover?”

“There will be no need. I’m now familiar with the feel of the lock. It will take me half the time.”