At the Spy's Pleasure Read online

  His friends, Daniel and Robert, thought him cold, calculating, and emotionless. The truth was Gareth didn’t give a rat’s arse about other peoples opinions. He understood his mission, his duty.

  He worked for the Crown, for the common Englishman. Simon was the worst sort of criminal—a man who didn’t care if he gravely wounded or even killed his own countrymen, young soldiers who risked their lives to protect citizens.

  Gareth may desire Jane, but it didn’t change who he was or what he needed to accomplish. His personal feelings had never affected his performance, and he wouldn’t allow his lust to overcome his good sense, no matter how tempting the lady.

  Chapter Six

  Jane woke in the middle of the night reliving the sound of the gunshot.

  She bolted upright in bed, her legs tangled in the bed sheets, her coverlet strewn across the floor. Beads of perspiration formed on her brow, and her nightgown clung to her damp skin. Leaning over the side of the bed, she took in great gulps of air.

  The nightmare always ended the same. She would find Charles on the floor of his study, a flurry of blood-splattered vouchers for his precious horses spread across the Oriental carpet. He had pressed the pistol against his temple and pulled the trigger. Bits of skull, hair, and brain added to the gore.

  Charles, with his reddish-brown hair, brown eyes, and jovial laugh, had looked nothing like his former self in death.

  The mantle clock had chimed. It ticked in her mind—four full strokes before she’d taken in the horrid scene, and her screams had echoed throughout the house to send the servants running.

  Dear lord, would the nightmares ever cease?

  Jane closed her eyes, breathed in through her nose then out through her mouth.

  A knock on her bedchamber door reverberated through the room and made her start.

  “Jane? Are you all right?” Eleanor opened the door. Dressed in a cotton nightrail, barefoot, and without her customary lace cap, she approached the bed. Resting her cane on the bed frame, her wrinkled brow was deeply furrowed. “I heard you scream,” she said, her voice laced with concern.

  Had she screamed out loud?

  “I’m sorry,” Jane whispered.

  Her aunt sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed Jane’s hair. “Never apologize, darling. Was it the same dream?”

  Unable to answer, Jane swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded.

  “Oh, Jane. This will pass, I promise.”

  Jane stifled a sob. “I can’t help but wonder if I could have prevented him from—”

  “No. What happened to Charles was not your fault. You were a devoted wife.”

  Jane had been infatuated with her young, handsome husband, but it hadn’t been enough to lure him away from Tattersall’s or every other horse track.

  The truth behind his suicide had cut like a surgeon’s blade. She had known all along, hadn’t she? Charles had loved his horses far more than he had ever loved her.

  If only she had conceived a child, it would have made Charles’s death more bearable. A baby to lavish with love. A child of her own. But that would never happen.

  “It’s time to move on, Jane. You’ve started to do so already. Do not let what happened hold you back any longer,” Eleanor said.

  Jane took a deep breath. She was weak by nature. She fell in love too easily, trusted too quickly.

  But no more.

  Her aunt was right. Her doomed marriage was in the past. She would not repeat her mistakes.

  After Eleanor left, Jane sat at the window seat overlooking the street. It was near dawn, and the first rays of light touched the sky. In the distance the tolling of a church bell sounded, uplifting and inspiring.

  For the first time, she had a purpose.

  She had already begun to put the past behind her. She would find a lover, a man who could show her pleasure rather than demand his own, and most importantly, a man who would not break her heart the way Charles had.

  …

  The following morning, Jane sat in the library reading when Graves, her butler, entered.

  “Lady Olivia is here to see you.”

  Jane rose. “Please see her in and send tea, Graves.”

  She was returning the book to the library shelves when Olivia entered the room. Dressed in a pink walking dress with puff sleeves and an embroidered lace hem, her friend looked as fresh as a garden rose.

  “I cannot wait another moment. How was your ride in the park with Mr. Marbury?” Olivia said.

  Jane smiled weakly. “It went well.”

  As long as she didn’t think of Gareth Ramsey.

  Olivia sat on a gold sofa and patted the seat for Jane to join her. “You don’t expect me to be satisfied with that answer, do you?”

  Jane joined her friend on the sofa. “Simon invited me to the theatre.”

  “How exciting! Has he kissed you yet?”

  “Olivia!”

  Olivia giggled. “I can’t help it. This is all so exciting and well past due for you.”

  Jane hesitated. “Simon hasn’t kissed me, but I’ve kissed another.” An unbidden memory of rugged features and bone melting kisses made her blood soar. Gareth’s lips been hot and seductive and she’d never felt such raw passion. She could still recall the warmth and hardness of his chest.

  Olivia gaped. “Who?”

  “Gareth Ramsey.” As soon as Jane said the name, she felt a sense of relief that she could finally confide the secret to her friend.

  Olivia’s brow knit. “Baron Suffolk’s youngest son? The barrister who obtained a divorce for Viscount Harrison?”

  “Yes.” Jane wasn’t surprised Olivia knew the details.

  The door opened and Graves wheeled in a tea tray. Olivia waited until the butler departed and they were alone again. “I wasn’t even aware you liked Mr. Ramsey,” Olivia said.

  “I don’t.” Not really.

  Jane poured two cups of tea and handed one to Olivia.

  Her friend took a quick sip, then set her cup down on her saucer and leaned forward in her seat. “How was Mr. Ramsey’s kiss?” Olivia asked, an eager expression lighting her face.

  Searing. Passionate. Knee-buckling. “Pleasant.”

  Olivia eyed her. “Pleasant? That’s it?”

  “All right. Much more than pleasant,” Jane admitted.

  “That’s wonderful!”

  “No, it’s not. I have a problem. Gareth found my list at Lady Sefton’s masquerade. I’ve never been more humiliated.”

  Olivia gasped. “Has he told anyone?”

  Jane bit her lower lip. “He says he won’t.”

  But the nagging in the back of her mind refused to be stilled. The truth was she didn’t know Gareth’s intentions, and she certainly didn’t trust him.

  Olivia nodded as if she had complete faith in Jane’s answer. “A true gentleman would never reveal a lady’s secret.”

  Despite being the son of a baron, Gareth didn’t behave like a gentleman. He’d pulled her into a private alcove at the park. And he’d kissed her against her will at the masquerade.

  Not entirely true. He may have made the first move, but a part of her had longed for him to continue to kiss her.

  He was a mystery. Perhaps that was the attraction. She’d thought him arrogant and high handed one moment, only to witness an incident like the one today with the boy in the street. Gareth’s actions were heroic, and he’d risked serious injury to save an impoverished child. She grudgingly admitted he possessed admirable qualities.

  But that didn’t mean she wanted him as her lover.

  “You’ll soon have your pick of men,” Olivia said.

  “I don’t need to pick. I’ve already chosen Simon Marbury.”

  Olivia gave her a familiar look—one she’d often given her during their childhood when she’d been exasperated with Jane. “There’s no need to rush into a decision. I realize Mr. Ramsey wasn’t initially on your list.”

  He had been on her list. But that wasn’t something she wanted to c
onfess to her friend.

  “I fear Gareth won’t leave me be. He says he wants to…to fill the position.”

  Olivia clasped her hands together. “Wonderful! You should be wooed and pursued.”

  “Yes, but not by him. Simon has asked me to attend the theatre, and I intend to take full advantage.” She would purge Gareth Ramsey from her mind. She was convinced that once she was with Simon, it shouldn’t be difficult.

  Chapter Seven

  Jane rested her gloved hand on Simon Marbury’s arm as he escorted her into the crowded lobby of the Theatre Royale on Drury Lane. The theatre was stunning with black and white marble floors and high, arched ceilings. Large chandeliers and wall sconces illuminated velvet draperies and gilt moldings. The scent of French perfumes and spicy colognes filled the warm entry.

  Jane followed Simon’s lead and surveyed her surroundings. Women dressed in colorful silks, polished pumps, and sparkling jewels chatted behind fluttering fans. Some of the gentlemen wore simple black and white evening attire while others strutted about like peacocks in spotted and flowered waistcoats, ridiculously high-pointed shirtfronts, or a diamond stickpin holding an intricately knotted cravat in place.

  Simon’s clothing rivaled the most impressive of dandies. Dressed in a coat of claret kerseymere and checked waistcoat with brass buttons, his pocket watch hung heavy with numerous ornamental fobs and gold seals. Jane didn’t miss the sidelong gazes of the women when Simon approached. Several men waved openly in greeting.

  Jane realized they were causing a bit of a stir. Surely gossip would ensue. But after their ride in Hyde Park, many already knew she was “officially” out of mourning and had captured the attention of Simon Marbury.

  Simon placed his hand over hers. “I do enjoy the theatre.”

  She suspected he relished being watched by the theatre patrons more than he enjoyed the play. Just like their ride in the park, Simon thrived on the attention. She could just imagine the gossip: the startlingly handsome Simon Marbury taking pity on Lady Stanwell, the tragic widow.

  It certainly made for good theatre.

  “Shall we take our seats?” he said.

  Simon led her to his private box and sat beside her.

  Anticipation thrummed through Jane’s veins. It had been so long since she’d attended a play. She leaned forward and clutched the balustrade, watching the people as they all began to take their seats, and the adjoining boxes as they filled with well-dressed theatergoers and their families. Below she spotted a group of dandies seated close to the orchestra. They were a boisterous lot, chatting and waving at each other. Across the way she spotted older matrons who frowned in disapproval at the rambunctious men. In the front row, a young couple with the flush of new love on their faces held hands and whispered to each other behind their programs.

  Oh, to be so young and ignorant. She prayed their infatuation would last. Especially the man’s.

  She spotted another couple. The man gaped at a woman wearing a low-bodice who took the seat in front of him. His wife glared at him and slapped his arm with her fan.

  Jane’s giggle died on her lips when an unmistakable tall, dark-haired man entered the theatre. Her heat skipped a beat.

  Gareth Ramsey.

  Had he followed her? If so, then she was entirely at fault. She’d blurted out that Simon was escorting her to the theatre when Gareth had confronted her at Hyde Park.

  Jane stared, her emotions a whirlwind inside her. She couldn’t possibly be excited at his presence.

  Could she?

  Then Gareth turned and smiled at an attractive chestnut-haired lady. He waited for the woman to take her seat before sitting beside her.

  Jane’s stomach clenched as comprehension dawned. Gareth was with another woman.

  Her fingers tightened on the railing. Vivid images of their encounter in the park rushed back to her. Gareth had been so bold, pulling her horse aside into an isolated spot. He had made her furious, and yet…a deep part of her was thrilled that a man had shown that much interest in her.

  And Gareth wasn’t just any man. Something about his sharp, confident profile and muscular body captured her attention. She should be wary of his size, let alone his domineering nature, but when his coffee-brown eyes gazed at her in the alcove, her skin had grown hot and her pulse had leapt.

  Then there was the incident with the boy as they’d left the park. Gareth had acted swiftly as if he’d been trained to deal with just such an urgent incident. There was more to him than a barrister and estranged son of a baron. He’d risked his safety so easily, whereas Simon had been unable to control his horse and had blamed the child. Jane continued to stare below—she couldn’t help herself—until minutes later Gareth looked up and their gazes caught.

  The corner of his mouth curled in a lazy smile.

  She sucked in a breath and turned away.

  “I like Hamlet best,” Simon said.

  “Pardon?” She’d momentarily forgotten where she was and who accompanied her.

  “I said tonight’s performance of Hamlet is one of my favorites.”

  Jane nodded, not trusting her voice. She worried Simon would notice her distress—and interest in the theatre’s other patrons.

  Thankfully, the lights dimmed and the curtain lifted to reveal a backdrop of a medieval Danish castle. Moments later, the actors—two castle sentries—came on stage. Jane struggled to keep her attention on the performance. She sneaked glances beneath lowered lashes at Gareth and the lady who sat beside him.

  The pair leaned toward each other and exchanged words. Jane’s stomach tightened a fraction more.

  Simon touched her arm, just above where her glove ended and below her sleeve. Her skin prickled in awareness.

  She turned to find Simon’s sapphire eyes watching her. “I’m glad you were able to accompany me tonight, my lady.” He leaned close and touched her exposed skin. “I do believe we will have a close relationship. I’m prepared to offer you even more excitement than you ever thought possible.”

  …

  Gareth knew the precise moment Jane spotted him. She looked exquisite dressed in a yellow gown with her golden hair in an elegant top knot that accentuated the cat-like tilt to her brown eyes. Her attention was presently on the stage, but Gareth suspected she was paying little attention to the play.

  Look at me.

  Instead she turned to Simon and smiled at something he said. Gareth felt like he’d been punched in the gut, his jealousy was so overwhelming. He wanted to be the one sitting beside her in the private box whispering sweet words in her ear.

  Not sweet, but erotic.

  He had known she would be in attendance tonight, but he hated seeing her alone with Marbury in the private box.

  “The lady noticed you, then?”

  Gareth turned to his guest for the evening. Lady Weatherby was a middle-aged widow of a baron who often aided the Home Office with special requests. She was attractive, with an abundance of brown curls, green eyes, and a voluptuous figure. She was present tonight to help him with his mission.

  Gareth scowled. “Is it that obvious?” He’d always prided himself on hiding his emotions. But there was something tantalizing about Jane that drew him, though he knew she was a distraction he could not afford. This maddening attraction put his cold efficiency and tightly leashed control in jeopardy.

  Lady Weatherby shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t worry, no on else has noticed. I’m trained to observe these things.”

  “Duly noted,” Gareth said dryly.

  Hamlet’s voice rose dramatically on stage as he complained his mother fell into “incestuous sheets” with her brother-in-law too swiftly after the death of Hamlet’s father.

  Lady Weatherby touched his sleeve and drew Gareth’s attention back to her. Leaning close, she whispered in his ear. “I must say that you’re as tightly wound as a clock spring, Gareth. You needn’t deny yourself pleasure this evening.”

  Gareth forced his shoulders to ease. Lady Weatherby had made h
er intentions clear, but he wasn’t interested in slating his lust this evening.

  At least not with her.

  “Another time, Kate,” he said.

  A consummate professional, she smiled and leaned back in her seat. “When do you want me to engage Mr. Marbury?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  It turned out they didn’t have to wait long. Partway through the play, as Hamlet’s behavior became more and more erratic, Simon rose from his seat.

  “Now,” Gareth said.

  …

  Gareth descended the theatre stairs to the vestibule. Only a few people were present, those seeking the retiring rooms or others wanting a break from the play to smoke cheroots.

  He scanned the area and spotted Marbury speaking with a man. They stood in the far corner, away from the bright light of the chandeliers, and shadows hid the man’s face. Gareth couldn’t make out his identity, and he wondered if he had anything to do with Marbury’s criminal activities. The unknown man was dressed in a dark colors, and before Gareth reached the last step, the man turned and walked out the theatre doors.

  Gareth wanted to pursue him, but it was impossible to pass by Simon without being observed. Frustration roiled inside Gareth for letting a possible lead walk away, but he quickly refocused. His true purpose was to meet with Simon privately.

  Gareth strode directly to him. “Good to see you again, Marbury.”

  A flicker of surprise crossed Simon’s face. “Hello again, Ramsey. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I admit the theatre is not my favorite past time, but I’m here tonight out of obligation. Duty requires I escort a relative.”

  Marbury chuckled. “I understand. Familial duty and responsibility can be quite tedious at times. My mother has been more demanding since my father took ill.” Simon waved a glass of champagne he’d been holding. “But it’s good I ran into you.”

  “Oh?’

  “I’ve carefully considered your client’s offer. I believe I’m favorable to it,” Simon said.

  Gareth felt an immediate sense of satisfaction. This was what he’d been waiting for. “I’m happy to hear it. I’ve been in contact with my client, and he has some questions for you.”