At the Spy's Pleasure Read online

  Her kiss with Gareth Ramsey was too fresh in her mind. A vivid image of his lips claiming hers, of him crushing her to his hard chest, sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. Perhaps it was convenient she had been sprawled across his big body on the settee since her knees had instantly weakened. Surely she would have fallen when his tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips. His kiss had been as challenging as it was tantalizing and left her feeling a burning desire, an aching need, for more.

  Sweet lord.

  The orchestra struck up a waltz.

  Simon came forward and bowed. “Dear mystery lady, I do believe you promised me this dance.”

  She blinked and managed a tremulous smile. This was what she wanted. The reason she’d attended tonight’s masquerade and worn the daring scarlet gown. Jane took a quick breath and pushed Mr. Ramsey out of her thoughts. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow the arrogant man to derail her well-laid plans.

  Jane placed a gloved hand on Simon’s sleeve, and he led her to the dance floor and swept her into the music.

  Jane’s feet moved of their own accord across the polished floor. The colorful gowns of the guests whirled by as they danced, and she glanced up at her partner. Simon was even more strikingly handsome up close with his fair hair, patrician features, and blue eyes. He smiled, revealing straight, white teeth.

  He was polished. Cool. A rogue through and through.

  Perfect for her purposes.

  Yet a frisson of unease pierced her spine. She may not be a virgin, but she was far from an experienced courtesan. She needed a man to teach her. Could he be the one?

  Or was he interested only in his pleasure?

  Just like Charles had been.

  She couldn’t judge Simon Marbury yet; she hardly knew him. She couldn’t trust what Gareth Ramsey had said about the man. She suspected Ramsey’s pride was wounded because her list hadn’t named him first. She wouldn’t put it past him to say anything to slander Simon.

  No, she wouldn’t fall for that trap. She needed more time with Marbury to draw her own conclusions about his character.

  Simon’s smile widened. “Who are you? I must know. I wish to call upon you for a ride in Hyde Park.”

  She hesitated. He was clearly interested, but if she revealed her identity would he remain so?

  “I shall meet you in the park. I prefer to keep tonight a mystery,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “It adds to the excitement, don’t you agree?”

  His sapphire eyes glittered with eagerness. And something else. Something almost predatory.

  Nonsense. He asked for spin around Hyde Park. Harmless to be sure. This was what she wanted, she reminded herself. He was the perfect candidate. The perfect choice.

  His eyes roamed her face, and she knew he attempted to see behind her mask. “How will I know it’s you in the park?” he said.

  “You’ll know, Mr. Marbury.”

  “Simon. Call me Simon.

  …

  Simon Marbury was on Jane’s list.

  Bloody hell.

  Gareth stayed in the library after Jane departed. He paced the thick Brussels carpet, deep in thought.

  He’d believed the mission would be simple. Engage Marbury and learn his secrets. Only now, Jane added a complication and he didn’t like complications. He pictured her bent over, reaching behind the desk. Layers of silk couldn’t completely hide a curvaceous bottom that would tempt any man to touch her.

  Damn.

  His mission had new consequences. He’d been assigned to watch Marbury. Now he needed to keep an eye on Lady Stanwell.

  Another image rose in his mind of her in the scarlet gown that accentuated the lush curves of her breasts. Her golden hair styled in loose curls that made a man want to remove the pins and feel all that silken hair in his hands. To feel the tresses trail down his chest and lower still…

  What was wrong with him? He wasn’t a randy schoolboy panting after his first girl. He was used to completely different types of women, skilled courtesans who placed no emotional demands on him.

  Jane was not his type.

  He clenched and unclenched his fists. Took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Confident he had his thoughts and his body under control, Gareth withdrew his mask from his jacket pocket and headed back to the masquerade.

  He stopped short in the entranceway.

  Jane was dancing with Simon Marbury. Not just any dance, but the waltz. Simon held her close, hands at her waist. Her gloved hands rested on his shoulders as she gazed up at him. They were well partnered and glided effortlessly across the dance floor.

  Gareth wasn’t the only one to notice. Women watched with envious looks behind fluttering fans. Men stared at Jane in the form-hugging scarlet.

  Possessiveness fired through Gareth’s bloodstream with the force of a shot. He clamped his jaw tight.

  Candlelight reflected off Jane’s golden curls and the large ruby nestled in her ample cleavage. Simon leaned toward her and spoke, a watchful fixity in his face. Jane tilted her head to the side, exposing the long, graceful line of her neck, and laughed.

  All thoughts of distancing himself from the lady fled. Jane wanted a lover and Simon Marbury was on her list. She was not only reckless, but foolish. Marbury wasn’t just a criminal who sold substandard cannons to the military—his file spoke of seedy brothels and unusual sexual practices.

  The importance of Gareth’s mission ratcheted up a notch. He had a job to do, and he felt the urgency to finish it quickly.

  …

  At last the waltz ended, and Jane allowed Simon to escort her to the refreshment table. If the dance were any indication, they would be well suited partners. Yet Jane found herself scanning the ballroom for a tall, dark-haired man. She wasn’t certain if it was out of trepidation or interest, but she needn’t have worried.

  Mr. Ramsey wasn’t present.

  Simon handed her a glass of lemonade. She took a sip and it tasted sickeningly sweet. She was just about to suggest he escort her onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air when a deep-timbered voice sounded behind her.

  “Mr. Marbury.”

  Jane whirled to see Gareth Ramsey approach. Her heart skipped a beat. Where on earth had he come from? Her first instinct was to flee, but that would certainly raise unwanted questions. She forced herself to stand still beside Simon as she studied Gareth Ramsey beneath lowered lashes.

  For such a large man, he moved with the grace and stealth of a panther. His rugged features held a certain sensuality, and even in the crowded ballroom, his presence was compelling.

  But why would he seek Simon out?

  Mr. Ramsey stopped before them, quite openly studying her. She flushed, grateful her mask covered part of her face. Unbidden images flashed through her mind. He wouldn’t dare mention their encounter in the library, would he? An even more terrifying realization washed over her. He not only knew her identity, but he was aware of her secret list of potential lovers. Would he disclose her name and mention the list?

  Simon looked at Gareth. “Are we acquainted?”

  “I’m Gareth Ramsey and I met your father years ago. I’ve heard Sir Marbury is ill and wanted to pass along my well wishes to your mother.”

  “Thank you for your concern.” Simon motioned to Jane. “I would introduce you, but the lady prefers to remain anonymous.”

  “There’s no need for introductions.” Gareth looked at Jane and grinned. “Good evening, Lady Stanwell. Are you enjoying the masquerade?”

  A brief flicker of surprise crossed Simon’s face, but it was swiftly masked with a polite smile.

  Jane shot Gareth a deadly look only to find a smug grin on his face.

  He knew I wished to remain unknown!

  She stiffened, clutching the glass of lemonade so tightly she feared it would shatter. She knew it was the moment of truth. Her identity concerned Simon, but he must not reconsider his interest.

  Acting quickly, she placed her hand on Simon’s sleeve, loo
ked up at him, and moistened her bottom lip.

  Simon’s gaze immediately dropped to her mouth.

  “Oh, Mr. Marbury. I had thought to keep my identity a surprise,” she said huskily.

  A quick glance at Gareth revealed his grin had disappeared. A muscle flicked angrily at his jaw.

  Jane felt a thrill of satisfaction.

  “No matter, Lady Stanwell,” Simon said.

  Jane didn’t know why Gareth had sought out Simon. She doubted he’d interrupted them for the sole reason of expressing his concern for Simon’s ill father, and she suspected that Gareth had an ulterior motive. The urge to leave before he goaded her into saying something she’d regret was strong. She didn’t trust him. More than that, she didn’t trust herself around him. He had a way of riling her temper like none other.

  Jane scanned the room and was relieved to see Olivia by the dance floor. She quickly curtsied. “If you gentlemen will please excuse me, I see a friend.”

  Simon bowed. “Of course.”

  Gareth’s eyes bore into hers. He was mocking her, and he knew exactly why she was fleeing. Jane knew leaving was the best option, yet she struggled with the urge to stay and meet his gaze in challenge. Don’t be a fool! Engaging him would not only be reckless, but dangerous.

  …

  Gareth waited until Jane departed before engaging Marbury. “I have other reasons to speak with you. Business reasons.”

  Simon looked at him curiously. “I recall hearing about you, Mr. Ramsey. You work as a barrister, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Simon laughed. “As I am a bachelor with no wife to dispose of, I have no need of your services.”

  “You misunderstand,” Gareth said. “I have a client who wants to invest in your company.”

  “He should see my secretary.”

  “No. It must be kept quiet. He wants only to deal with you.”

  “I’m not looking for new investors at this—”

  “Perhaps we can go elsewhere and discuss the details. I understand you like Satan’s Lair.”

  Marbury’s nostrils flared slightly. Gareth had done his research and knew the exclusive gambling hell on Bennett Street was one of Marbury’s weaknesses.

  “No harm in hearing out your friend’s plans,” Simon said. “I’m obligated to stay only an hour more at the masquerade. Let’s meet later tonight.”

  …

  Gareth wandered the ballroom, stopping only to talk to several acquaintances. Things were progressing as planned. Simon would meet him at the gambling club later tonight, and Gareth would reveal his “mysterious client’s” offer to invest in the Marbury Company.

  As far as Jane was concerned, he’d purposely sought out Marbury when he was with her. Gareth still couldn’t believe that of all the men in attendance tonight, she had convinced herself that she wanted Simon.

  Gareth scanned the ballroom until he spotted Jane speaking with a group of young women. He waited until the orchestra began the next song, a lively Scottish reel, and several of the ladies paired off with gentlemen.

  He strode over to Jane and grasped her sleeve before anyone could ask her to dance.

  She whirled around to stare up at him in astonishment. “What are you doing?”

  “May I have a quick word with you on the terrace?”

  “I told you we should avoid each other,” she whispered vehemently.

  His lips tugged in a smile. “I was never good at following instructions.” The crowd was momentarily distracted as the dance began, and he quickly steered Jane toward the open French doors leading outside.

  The terrace was empty. Clouds dimmed the light of a crescent moon, and torches cast light and shadows on the Roman statues in the manicured gardens below. The scene reminded him of the last time he had spoken to her on a terrace. The only difference then was that Jane had been distraught when she’d fled outside before, whereas now she simmered with fury.

  She tilted her head back and glared at him. “What do you want?”

  “I thought I made myself clear in the library.” He couldn’t help himself. She was truly lovely when she was angry. A cool evening breeze ruffled tendrils of hair at her nape. His fingers itched to reach out and touch the loose curl that rested against the swell of her breast above her bodice.

  “Never speak of it again.” She shot him a withering glance, then looked both ways to ensure they were truly alone on the terrace. “Now why did you seek out Mr. Marbury tonight?”

  “I thought to offer support for his ill father.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You could have done that at any time. You chose to purposely interfere when I was enjoying a pleasant conversation with him.”

  “A pleasant conversation? Is that all you were enjoying?”

  “It’s none of your concern,” she snapped.

  She was right. It wasn’t his business who she picked for her next lover. But he didn’t like it. “Be careful, my lady. You play with fire.”

  “Your attempts to dissuade me won’t work. I know your game. You thought by revealing my identity to Mr. Marbury he would lose interest in me. After all, what man would choose to spend time with the damaged widow who drove her husband to harm himself?”

  For a brief instant her voice wavered and a flash of pain lit her eyes, but she recovered quickly. Still, her distress was enough to make him want to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, until she knew exactly what type of man wanted her.

  She must have sensed his thoughts, for her eyes narrowed and her back straightened. The fire was back in her eyes.

  “You failed, Mr. Ramsey. It didn’t work.”

  Here was his chance. He needed to find out Marbury’s whereabouts. His mission required that he learn as much about the man as possible, then use it to his advantage. Nothing could be overlooked. Using others to unearth information came naturally to Gareth. He felt no guilt.

  Yet a deeper part of him also wanted to know if Jane was spending time with Marbury. He didn’t know why. Only that it bothered him, damn it.

  “Oh? Does Marbury want to see you again? To come calling at your home?” he asked, his tone deceptively light.

  “He doesn’t just want to arrive at my door with flowers or chocolate and a private note,” she insisted.

  “I see.” He wanted to shake her shoulders and make her confess everything.

  She lifted her chin and boldly met his gaze. “We will ride in Hyde Park tomorrow in full view at the promenade hour. Mr. Marbury doesn’t care about my past or being seen together. Your attempts have failed.”

  I never fail, he mused.

  If she thought she was rid of him, she didn’t know his character. She’d given him the perfect opportunity to engage Marbury and watch her.

  …

  Late that night, Gareth met Simon Marbury in Satan’s Lair. The gambling club was crowded with well-dressed aristocracy and wealthy middle class financiers, merchants, and industrialists. They rubbed shoulders around gambling tables and wagered vast sums on the roll of the dice or the flip of a card. Strong spirits were served and smoke curled to the ceiling.

  Gareth watched as Simon shifted in his seat at the hazard table. The dice rolled on the green baize and Simon lost more than he won.

  “I’m done,” Gareth said to the croupier.

  “I want to keep playing,” Simon insisted.

  Gareth sipped his brandy. Simon had already lost heavily tonight. First at whist, and now at hazard. He was a heavy gambler, and not a good one from what Gareth had seen. No wonder Simon needed to resort to criminal activities to support his lifestyle.

  Gareth suspected Jane had no idea about Simon’s gambling. By gambling only at the private male clubs, Simon kept his habit hidden from the ladies of polite society.

  “How about a try at vingt-et-un?” Gareth suggested.

  Simon nodded and set the dice on the table. “I never knew you were a gambler, Ramsey. I’ve never seen you here before.”

  Gareth smiled wryly. “I pr
efer other vices.”

  “Ah, you like the whores.”

  Gareth hesitated, weighing Simon. “What man doesn’t? And you?”

  “The Seven Sins in Soho is my favorite.”

  Gareth made himself look blandly at Simon while inside his temper flared. The Seven Sins was known as the worst kind of brothel. It had at least a dozen rooms, each with wall to wall mirrors and every conceivable manual and mechanical device to ensure a customer’s sexual gratification. The women were kept like slaves and often beaten. Daniel had previously mentioned a secret investigation against the proprietor to shut down the seedy brothel.

  Gareth’s gut clenched tight. Jane wanted this man as a lover, probably her first after the suicide of her husband.

  Gareth had no standing with Jane, no reason to interfere with her plans to find a lover. Yet he knew one thing to be true: he wouldn’t allow it.

  A vivid image of their kiss seared his mind. When she’d tripped and fallen into his arms, his heart pounded, his body hardened, and he’d wanted her fiercely.

  Not true, he thought.

  The moment he’d discovered his initials were on her list—despite her protests to the contrary—his pride demanded she rewrite it to place him first.

  Or better yet, that his name be the only one listed.

  The dealer dealt them cards. Simon glanced at his cards and tapped the table. The dealer threw him another card, and Simon’s face fell. Gareth was dealt another card and won.

  For all Simon’s looks, he was skilled at deception—an accomplished actor—behind his foppish façade. But Gareth’s work as a barrister had taught him that appearances could be deceiving. Some of the most beautiful ladies, or highly respected gentlemen in the House of Lords, hid the worst secrets.

  Simon downed his brandy and motioned for a servant to bring him another. He was intoxicated, betting and losing heavily.

  Now was the time. “My client has money to invest,” Gareth said.

  “How much money?” Simon asked, his words slightly slurred.

  “A tidy sum, but it will not be an ordinary investment.”

  “Meaning?”

  “There are rumors you know how to turn a profit.”

  Simon’s glazed eyes narrowed. “And where have you heard such rumors?”