To Surrender to a Rogue (20 page)

"No," replied Kate testily. "It cannot. And it has nothing to do with your manly thighs or muscles, so you can stop waggling your arse in those skintight buckskins." Ignoring Alice's horrified hiss, she lowered her voice. "I am a friend of Alessandra, one of her fellow 'Sinners.'"

His beautiful topaz eyes sharpened, and for an instant she saw a different facet to their glittering golden hue. "Gentlemanly scruples demand that I not leave a lady in the lurch." He sketched a bow. "Being of Italian descent, Angelo will understand. Allow me five minutes."

Jack moved quietly through the grove of oaks and elms, using the pockets of lingering fog and the soft, soggy ground to hide his approach to Alessandra's shelter. The air was heavy with the smell of damp decay, its humidity forming tiny beads of moisture on his cheeks and brow. Shadows snaked through the dark branches, and in the washed-out light of the overcast sky, the leaves appeared more pewter gray than green.

Picking a path through brambles, Jack covered the last few yards in a low crouch and crept close to the rear of the tent. A breeze stirred, spattering the canvas with a shower of raindrops from the overhanging trees. He had spotted Frederico coming up the footpath. In another moment or two...

The wet slap of the front flaps announced the Italian's arrival. Ignoring the trickle of cold, clammy water seeping under his collar, Jack cocked an ear close to the woven wall. Whatever the two conspirators were up to, whatever secrets lay between them, he meant to discover the truth, come what may.

The crackle of paper sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness.

"So, did you check that section yet?" It was Frederico's voice, sharp with impatience.

"Yes " replied Alessandra, sounding strangely muffled. "After the meeting where it was decided to take several days off, I waited until the workmen had left for the day." Metal scraped against the wood planking as she shifted a tool. "It's not the right spot"

"You are sure?"

"Yes! My probing rod showed that beneath the thin layer of soil is nothing but solid rock."

"But the description—," began Frederico.

"The description is vague at best, and as I keep telling you, the landscape has no doubt changed over the centuries," snapped Alessandra. "I'll need to make another survey of the site and see if I can find another likely location."

"Diavolo.
Do it quickly." The Italian sounded angry. "I trust, Alessa, that I need not remind you..."

The rest of his words were muddled as a gust of wind shivered the tent

Damn.
Drawing a shallow breath, Jack shifted his position.

"I am well aware of that" Her voice had dropped to a near whisper. "Trust me, I am just as anxious as you are to find it I am doing my best, but archaeology is not an exact science. And we must also face the fact that we may be searching for something that doesn't exist The map may be a fake, the object may have been discovered long ago—

Frederico cut her off with a low laugh. "Let us hope that is not the case,
cara.
That would be disappointing, to say the least"

Jack couldn't tell whether Alessandra said anything in reply. He heard footsteps scuff over the bare earth. "Curse this foul English weather," muttered Frederico. "Time is short enough as it is, without any further delays."

"I know. I'm doing everything I can to speed things along, but I have to be extremely careful. You wouldn't want the others to become suspicious of what I am doing."

He grunted "Si, I know that What about today?"

“I am going to have a look along the river," she replied.

"Shall I come along to help?"

"No, it's best that we are not seen together. Go back to town and join the others. Use your charm to keep them amused." She paused. "And try not to antagonize Lord James. Of all the men on this dig, he is the most dangerous."

"Dangerous?" The soft slap of leather sounded as the Italian flicked his gloves against his palm. "Believe me, I am not afraid of a pampered prig."

"You ought to be," she countered "Don't forget that he is a decorated veteran of the war in Spain."

"Yes, I'm sure his medals look very pretty on his fancy scarlet tunic. But surely by now you know that in England, such military commissions are purchased." His words hung for an instant in the air. "And you yourself have implied that his position here has more to do with family wealth and influence than any individual qualifications."

Alessandra did not reply.

"But perhaps it is you,
cara,
who are in danger from the man. I have seen the way you watch him—"

"Don't be absurd," cut in Alessandra. "Yes, I keep my eye on him. In order to make sure he is not coming too close to our secret"

"Hmmph." Jack heard Frederico's pacing quicken, the swirl of damp wool slapping against his boots. "Very well But remember, I count on you to keep him distracted Use whatever means necessary, but on no account can he be allowed to uncover our real reason for being here.''

Deciding he had heard enough, Jack retreated to the cover of the trees.

Frederico stalked off a few minutes later, his stride a little shaky, his handsome face twisted in a ferocious frown.

So, the conspirators were nervous.

All the better, thought Jack. Impelled by fear, people tended to make mistakes. Turning up his coat collar, he sat back on his haunches. The Peninsular conflict had taught him patience. He was prepared to wait all day if need be for the marchesa to make her move.

But it wasn't long, no more than a quarter hour, before the tent flaps fluttered open. Covered in a long, hooded cloak, Alessandra was naught but a spectral shape as she glided into the mist She moved swiftly, silently, only the faint chink of her toolbag disturbing the stillness of the deserted site.

Jack hurried to keep her in sight The clouds had thickened, and the muted colors and textures of the surrounding landscape, were growing hazy in the subdued light At the same time he was careful to keep his distance. He wanted to catch her in the act

Following the footpath down to the river, Alessandra picked her way along the rocky bank, pausing here and there to study the eddying currents. It appeared she was heading to the entrance of a newly discovered grotto. Just last week, a pile of tumbled stones had been shifted, revealing a well-preserved underground thermal bath, smaller than the main structure, so probably made for the use of the officers. The walls were decorated with striking mosaic murals and several lovely statues of the goddess Minerva. The ancient sculptures had been taken to Bath for safekeeping. But given what he had just overheard, Jack suspected there must be something of far greater value still hidden within the shadows.

The rocks were still wet with rain, slowing him to a snail's pace in order to avoid any slip that might give him away. Rounding an outcropping of limestone, he saw her disappear into a sliver of space between the shadowed rocks.

Jack counted to ten and then followed her lead.

The opening was so narrow that he had to turn sideways to slip inside. Pressing his shoulder blades up against the rough surface, he paused for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the murky light. Having made a brief tour of the grotto on the day of its discovery, he knew that there were a half dozen shallow stairs leading down to a stone floor, perhaps twelve feet square. Beyond that was a deep pool of a similar size, lined with skillfully mortised stone blocks. Holding his breath, he could hear the murmur of the bubbling thermal waters rising up from the underground spring that fed them.

The sound reverberated off the walls, and combined with the warm, moist air, it created the sensation of being inside the mouth of a sleeping dragon.

Jack shook off the strange thought. He had not come to slay a dragon, he had come to catch a thief.

The strike of a flint against steel echoed through the dark shadows and a small flame flared to life. Alessandra set the lantern down beside her bag and began rummaging among her tools.

He stepped forward, the scattering of pebbles on the floor crunching under his boots.

She whirled around, a look of surprise freezing her features.

"Do you want to explain what you are doing?" he asked.

Her hand flew to a spot high on her chest, and he saw the tiny muscles of her throat tighten in a convulsive swallow. "I—I don't have to answer to you, Lord James."

"Oh, but I think you do ." He stepped closer, watching the swirl of fear in her eyes darken into something more desperate. Hell, he wanted very badly to believe in her innocence. But the facts belied his hope.

Disappointment goaded him to speak roughly. "I heard you with your old friend, plotting to rob the site. What a pretty team you make. Tell me, how long have the two of you been doing this? How many priceless treasures have you stolen?"

"I'm not...He's not..."

"He's not what? Your lover? Your partner in crime?"

"Y-you are mistaken," she whispered.

Jack slashed an angry gesture through the air. "Enough lies, Alessandra. By Jove, I mean to have the truth out of you."

"The truth?" A shrill laugh slipped from her lips as she suddenly slumped to her knees and buried her head in her hands. "Oh, God," came her muffled groan. "I'm not even sure what that is anymore."

Lud, that devil is too handsome for his own good," muttered Alice as they waited for Marco to reappear.

That was putting it mildly, thought Kate.

"And you, Miss Katharine. I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't remind you that a proper female never,
ever
makes reference to a gentleman's...anatomical features."

"His arse is rather nice," murmured Kate.

There was a hesitation, followed by a sigh. "Divine."

"Alice, I have a feeling we are going to rub along together quite well, once you become used to my little quirks." Kate checked her reflection in one of the shop windows, taking a moment to pull the poke of her bonnet a little lower on her brow. "First and foremost is the fact that I may be a duke's granddaughter, but there isn't a proper bone in my body."

The maid pursed her lips thoughtfully. "What's the second?"

"I don't give a damn whether that upsets anyone. Including the Duke of Cluyne."

"Ah." Alice maintained a straight face. "Is there a third?"

Kate grinned. "No, I think that about sums it up."

"So, let me see if I have this straight, ma'am." The maid smoothed the front of her cloak. "I will cheerfully remind you of the rules, and you will cheerfully break them to flinders."

"Correct"

Allowing a soupcon of a smile, Alice also let her speech slide into a hint of Irish brogue. "And here I thought that being lady's maid to a duke's granddaughter was going to be a crashing bore."

True to his word, the conte reappeared within minutes, no longer looking like a raffish corsair. The cut of his exquisitely tailored coat accentuated his sculpted shoulders and narrow waist to perfection, while his tapered trousers showed off the long, lean lines of his legs.

"Shall we take a stroll,
signora?”
After setting his curly brim beaver hat on his still-damp curls, Marco offered his arm. "I'm afraid you have the advantage of me—you know my name, and yet I don't know yours."

"Kate Woodbridge," she replied quickly.

"Miss Katharine Woodbridge, granddaughter of the Duke of Cluyne," corrected Alice, who was trailing close behind.

"It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Kate-Katharine," said Marco with a roguish wink.

Kate rather doubted he would be smiling so sweetly if he knew who she really was. But that was not something she intended to let him discover. Ducking her head, she kept her eyes on the pavement
The less he saw of her face, the better.

"If you don't mind, let's not waste time in frivolous flirtations, sir. I sought you out because I am worried about Alessandra."

Beneath the whisper-fine wool of his sleeve, Kate felt his muscles tense. "I thought she was in Bath, working with a group of other scholars on the excavation of an ancient Roman fort"

"She is," replied Kate. "But before she left, she was : clearly worried over something. And now, after reading her last letter, I am convinced that she is in trouble."

"You are probably reading too much into it,” murmured Marco. "Alessa can occasionally let her emotions get the better of her."

"On the contrary, Alessandra is the most calm, controlled person I know," she shot back. "For her to betray a frisson of fear means that something is seriously wrong."

A wink of gold cut across her gaze as he toyed with the fobs on his watch chain. Despite his show of studied nonchalance, she sensed him turning wary, watchful. "What makes you say that?"

"It's hard to explain," said Kate slowly. "It wasn't exactly the words she used. It was more the tone." When said aloud, her suspicions suddenly sounded a little silly. "Which was painfully cheerful."

"Maybe she is having a good time."

"No," insisted Kate. "I tell you, something is not right"

"She should be safe in Bath," he muttered under his breath.

"Safe?" echoed Kate. "Are you saying that Alessandra is in some sort of
danger!"

Marco lifted his elegant shoulders in a shrug, a gesture that caused the tails of his snowy-white cravat to catch in the breeze. "A figure of speech. It's nothing to be concerned about" He smoothed the starched linen back into place. "A private family matter."

"What fustian," she retorted. "You are lying through your pretty teeth."

His well-shaped mouth stretched a touch wider, but the smile did not come close to reaching his eyes. They remained shadowed by the curl of his dark lashes. "And why would I do that, Miss Kate-Katharine?"

"I have no bloody idea." She clenched her jaw, careful to keep her face at an oblique angle to his. "But I mean to find out With or without your help."

"Cam
..." he began.

"Stubble the sweet talk," she snapped. "I don't suppose you are going to share with me what she said in her letter to you."

She saw the corners of his mouth tighten. "What letter?"

"Didn't you get it? Alessandra mentioned that she wrote to you in Scotland."

He shook his head. "I finished my business there sooner than expected."

"Well, it seemed that she was quite anxious to hear from you. In fact she repeated it twice." Kate blew out her cheeks. "That's another reason I smell a rat"

"You have been reading too many novels," said Marco. "There are no deep, dark dungeons and dastardly villains in Bath. My cousin is surrounded by bookish scholars, enjoying the fresh air and pastoral English countryside. She likely is looking forward to hearing from me because she is...bored."

"And the moon is made of green cheese," muttered Kate.

"I heard it was
mozzarella di Bufala."

She shot him a quelling look. "I've a good mind to leave for Bath at first light."

"Slow down." His hand tightened on her arm, bringing her to a sudden halt "Leave this to me."

"Because a female might faint at the first sign of trouble?" she said sarcastically. "Trust me, I am not some helpless peagoose. I know how to take care of myself. And my friends."

"Al
diavolo.
Women!" he growled through his teeth. "You are as stubbornly strong-willed as my cousin."

"Men!" countered Kate. "What you mean to say is, both of us have a brain and are not afraid to use it"

He slowly released her and flexed his fingers. She watched, mesmerized for a moment by the sinuous shape of them snaking through the air. Il
Serpente.
It was not all on account of his amorous exploits that he had earned the moniker. In Naples, he was rumored to be quick and deadly as a cobra in a fight Rubbing unconsciously at her arm, Kate reminded herself to be careful and keep well out of range of his fangs.

Marco moved closer, forcing her back a step. 'Won, what I mean is, there are reasons—reasons I am not at liberty to discuss with anyone—for keeping this a private matter. Since you consider yourself so smart, I ask you to think about this, Miss Kate-Katharine, before you run off half-cocked. Why do you suppose Alessandra has not confided in you?"

Kate opened her mouth and then closed it She had asked herself the same question.

"Could it be that some secrets are too painful, too personal to share, even with close friends?"

She wanted to come up with a clever quip, a cutting retort, but in her heart she knew that his words had the ring of truth. "What are you going to do?" she demanded. "Assuming I agree to leave things in your hands."

He curled a fist and set it on his hip. "I need to make a few inquiries among some friends before I can answer that. It's imperative not to do anything rash. You have no idea how dangerous that could be."

As
if she -were any stranger to danger.

Kate bit her lip, knowing how foolish it would be to say so aloud. And whatever else her faults, she was no fool. Much to her irritation, she had to admit that in this case Marco was right Any impetuous intrusion on her part into Alessandra's affairs might do more harm than good.

"Very well." She couldn't help but add, "However, you had better act in the next few days, or I'll be forced to take charge."

He narrowed his eyes. "Who do you think you are, to order me around like a lapdog?"

The words were a sharp reminder of how little she wanted him to dwell on
that
question. Sometimes discretion was the better part of valor. Even though the platitude chafed against her natural inclination to race to the rescue of a friend.
Discretion,
she repeated. All things considered, it made no sense to risk the chance of stirring Marco's memory of the past

"I'll move as fast as I can, but it may take me several days to contact all my sources," he continued. "Trust me, even if trouble is threatening, Alessandra is better off in Bath than here:'

"I suppose I shall have to take your word for it," replied Kate grudgingly. "Is there nothing I can do to help?'

"If I think of anything, I shall let you know."

The offhand dismissal rankled, but Kate swallowed the urge to start another argument with him. "Do,”’ she said curtly before turning on her heel. "Come, Alice. We need to pick out a pair of gloves." Blood-red ones, to match the color of her angry flush.

Marco cut a sardonic bow. "Until later, Miss Kate-Katharine."

On second thought, perhaps she would purchase a gauntlet—to slap across his arrogant face.

Jack dropped to his knees next to Alessandra. Tendrils of steam floated up from the bubbling spring, misting the glass globe of the lantern. Her cloak had come undone, the ties tangling with the fallen hood as it slipped to the ground. In the blurred light, her hair shimmered like waves of silk as it spilled over her sagging shoulders.

Anger licked up inside him, hot little tongues of fire crackling in a chorus of jeers.
Fool, fool, fool
The realization burned like a blaze of furious hellfire twisting through his gut Blinded—no, besotted—by her beguiling beauty and intellect, he had failed to see through her sophisticated lies.

And yet, against all reason, a part of him still refused to believe her guilty of such cold-blooded deception.

Burning anger, desperate need.
It was a very volatile combination...

At the sight of that quivering Marchesa Mouth, looking impossibly innocent, something inside him exploded.

"Damnation." He grabbed her arms, aware that his ringers were digging into her flesh.

She made no protest, her body still save for a slight flicker of her lashes. Her eyes were luminous in the watery light Like liquid emeralds.

No, no, no.
Don't drown in their depths.

"Don't play me for a fool, Alessandra," he rasped. "The truth is not so hard to define. Or have you been living a lie for so long that the word has lost all meaning?"

"Lies." The sound was more of a sob, its echo reverberating against the rough-cut stones. "Yes, my life is a lie, but not in the way you think."

"Tell me." Jack slid his hands higher, to the ridge of her shoulders. "Trust me."

"I—I can't."

"Why?"
he demanded, trying to control his pent-up frustration. His grip tightened, pressing hard against the fragile blades of her bones.

She flinched "Oh, please. Don't ask. I don't have the strength to fight you, too."

Her anguish seemed oh-so real.
Or was he merely being manipulated again?

"I wish..." whispered Alessandra. "I wish that I might borrow a little of your steel." She reached up and feathered a finger along the line of his jaw. "A little of your courage." Her bare flesh was cold as ice. "And your honor." A twist engulfed her face in shadow. "Mine, I fear, was lost long ago."

"Take what you need from me," he answered hoarsely.

Suddenly, at that instant, it didn't seem to matter whether she was playing him false.

Alessandra turned back to him, the flickering lantern painting a faint line of light over the tenuous curve of her mouth.

"Would that I could"

Her perfume swirled around his head, filling his nostrils with the tantalizing scent of exotic spices. Jack pulled her close, drawing a deep, shuddering breath. "What's to stop you?"

Her lips parted, as if on the verge of speech. But all of a sudden the spark seemed to die in her eyes and all that came out was a ghost of a sigh.

"Alessandra."

"Go on," he urged.

A tiny swallow pinched her throat She hesitated for a heartbeat, and then arched up to brush a kiss to his cheek.

Distraction.
Jack dimly recalled Frederico's exhortation.
Use whatever means necessary.
He had seen the enemy use such a tactic countless times on the battlefields of Spain. But distraction was a two-edged sword to wield against an experienced foe. Danger could cut both ways.

Framing her face with his palms, Jack leaned in and flicked his tongue over her lower lip. With a tiny moan, Alessandra clutched at his shirt and opened herself to his probing embrace.

His self-control was already teetering on a razor-thin blade. Her lips touching his sent him over the edge.

Seized by an overpowering need, Jack tightened his hold and twisted hard, his knees scraping the rough stone floor as he drew her down and straddled her body. A hiss of heat seemed to rise from the stones, enveloping him in a vaporous haze. He hitched his hips, pinning her to the rock tiles.