“Damnation!” he exclaimed, his lazy well-being vanishing. “If I’d known that, I would have managed to hang on to my conscience and keep my distance!”
“Which is why I misled you, Damian. I’m sorry I was less than honest, but I can’t be sorry for the results.” She offered a tentative smile.
A chill was sinking deeper and deeper into his bones. “I would appreciate an explanation. I won’t believe it if you say that you have fallen madly, irrevocably in love and decided to seduce me into marriage. I’m not that much of a prize.”
Her expression turned wistful. “I know you’re not the marrying kind, and while I was willing to mislead you into my bed, I would not trick you to the altar.”
“Then why?” he asked, baffled. “Straightforward lust? That’s powerful.” Incredibly, mind-meltingly powerful. “But in the case of a strong-minded young lady like you, not believable.”
“The answer is complicated.” Her gaze moved away to the ceiling.
“Then pray enlighten me so I’ll know whether I should be angry,” he said dryly.
“I hope you aren’t, though you have the right.” Still not looking at him, she continued, “In India, I fell in love with one of my father’s young officers. It was the head-over-heels love of youth and first passion. Charles was honorable and refused to ruin me, but we were very young and craved each other desperately. We found ways to meet privately when we could.”
The vulnerability on her face was very different from her usual blithe confidence. Beginning to see where this was going, he said quietly, “So together you explored all the varieties of passion short of actual intercourse?”
She nodded, biting her lip. “It was wonderful. Intoxicating.”
“Did he change his mind?” He hoped her Charles hadn’t condemned her for her mixed blood! If that had happened, he’d hunt the young devil down and wring his neck.
She gave a humorless laugh. “I wish he had. Instead, the blasted man got himself killed. He was leading a patrol in the mountains up a narrow track that crumbled away, dropping half of his men into a rough river below. He was a strong swimmer and went into the water again and again and managed to save all but one. He was going after that last man when he ran out of strength and . . . didn’t survive.”
“Oh, my dear,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry. But a good officer looks after his men, and he was clearly a good officer. He died a hero.”
“I know.” She blinked back tears. “But I wish his duty hadn’t killed him.”
Mac pulled her close. “I don’t think lying with a man you don’t love is the answer, my dear girl. I wish I could be what you need.”
“But you are.” She gazed up, her face only inches away. “Losing Charles left a hole in my heart, and also . . . anger. I wished we’d been lovers so I would have had that.”
“I’m not him. Not even close.” He smiled wryly. “Heroism is not among my limited list of virtues. Nor do I like the idea of being a . . . a substitute Charles.”
Kiri gave a quick shake of her head. “That’s not it. You are very unlike. But you make me laugh the way he did.” She frowned. “And . . . I desire you as I haven’t any man since Charles died. Perhaps even more than I did him, though saying so seems disloyal.”
It was hard to stay irritated when an amazingly beautiful woman said she desired him so much. “Now you know what you were missing.” His voice softened. “Though with Charles you would have had love as well as desire, and that would have added a whole new dimension.”
“Likely you are right, but . . . time has passed. I am not who I was then. At least after tonight, I can finally move beyond that terrible loss.” She stroked her hand over his chest. “You and I will be together now while we can, and then go our separate paths. When I am a staid old lady, I will remember you with a wistful smile and no regrets.”
He laughed. “You will never be staid, Lady Kiri.”
“If I can’t be staid, I shall be an eccentric old lady instead,” she said calmly. “With cats, like the one that has materialized on the foot of the bed.”
He looked down and saw a tabby curled up on the corner of the bed as if it had been there all night. “Where the devil did that cat come from?”
“I’m not sure. I think Puss has a secret way in and out of this room.”
He shook his head. “I think you’ve already achieved eccentricity, but that’s all right. Aristocrats can get away with things lesser folk can’t.” He sat up, the air cool against his skin as the covers fell away. “I can’t undo what we just did, but I can prevent it from happening again. You have the completion you wanted and can now find a man more worthy of you when you return to your real life.”
She caressed his thigh. “As you say, we can’t undo what we’ve done, so what is the point of denying what we both want so much? We will have a fortnight or two to share pleasure. Later on, won’t you regret being noble now?”
“Yes,” he said firmly, “but regret is better than behaving like a scoundrel.”
He was about to get out of the bed when her hand slid over his thigh to cup his genitals. He froze. A minute before, he would have said he was sexually drained and incapable of performing for at least a few hours.
He would have been wrong.
“Kiri,” he said helplessly, unable to think, no longer sure what was right and what was wrong. “Every time we come together, we increase the risk of damaging each other.”
“No. We won’t.” As he hardened under her hand, she pulled him into a kiss.
It was nearly dawn before he returned to his own room.
On this night, the Powells’ kitchen produced an excellent joint of mutton and sliced potatoes baked with cheese. Mac concentrated on his food, afraid to look at Kiri for fear of what might show in his face. She sat demurely on the other side of the table, not looking at him.
He was still torn between sense and lust. Those big green eyes were very convincing when she claimed continuing as lovers wouldn’t ruin her any more than the night they’d already spent together. His instincts were screaming at him that he should never touch her again, yet she undermined his willpower as no woman ever had.
He must master himself before anything more happened. Good Lord, what would Lady Agnes say if she knew he was sleeping with Ashton’s sister? He shuddered.
Kirkland entered, looking drawn and tired. He didn’t object when Cassie filled a plate for him and added a glass of wine. “Mac, after getting your note earlier, there’s now a watch on Rupert Swinnerton. Cassie, have you and Rob learned anything interesting?”
She nodded. “We’ve identified the boxer who died. He was a Dublin prizefighter who went by the name Ruffian O’Rourke. He came to London to make his fortune but wasn’t good enough to be really successful, so he drifted into doing less legal work.”
Kirkland grimaced. “Then it’s time to plan Mac’s funeral. If it were held in London, too many people would want to attend, which will complicate matters when he returns to life. I’ll put a notice in the paper that the funeral will be out of town. O’Rourke’s body will be sent back to Dublin, where he can be buried under his own name.”
“You wrote Will?” Mac asked. He could deal with the complications of other people thinking he was dead, but not Will, the only real family he had.
“The morning after your alleged death,” Kirkland assured him. “He should have my letter before any London newspapers reach Spain.” He glanced at Cassie and Carmichael. “Did you learn enough about O’Rourke’s associates to provide a lead to the kidnappers?”
“We should know more in a day or two,” Carmichael said.
Kirkland nodded, and discussion became general. When the meal was done and the investigators were leaving to prepare for another evening of work, Kirkland said, “Mackenzie, will you stay a moment? I need to speak with you.”
Being called Mackenzie wasn’t good. Warily Mac obeyed, wondering what Kirkland had to say that the others didn’t need to hear.
The
other man waited till the door to the dining room closed and the two of them were alone before he said in an edged voice, “I do hope I won’t have to explain to Ashton that it’s my fault you seduced his sister.”
Mac felt the blood drain from his face. “What gave you a notion like that?”
“I’m not a fool,” Kirkland said in a clipped voice. “You’re both practically radiating lust, and the work you’re doing throws you together entirely too much. She’s an innocent girl, so I suppose it’s not surprising that she’s intrigued by a dashing rogue, but you damned well know better than to play games with her.”
If Kirkland thought Kiri was innocent, he clearly didn’t know what she was really like. Nor did he seem to know what had happened the night before, which was a relief. Kirkland usually knew everything.
“I know what Lady Kiri is,” Mac retorted. “If we truly respected her youth and position, we wouldn’t have allowed her to take part in this investigation.”
Kirkland’s mouth tightened. “I regret that it was necessary.”
“Nonetheless, you were willing to take her on,” Mac pointed out. “Duty is a hard taskmaster. To be honest, I’m glad I didn’t have to choose between taking advantage of her bloodhound talents and keeping her safely in her own world. But don’t blame me because she’s here.”
“It wasn’t an easy decision, but the stakes were high.” Kirkland’s eyes showed his weariness. He’d made too many difficult decisions in his years of hidden service.
Mac’s sympathy ended when Kirkland added, “Save your seductions for the worldly women at Damian’s. You’ll be back there in a few weeks. Surely you can go that long without a woman.”
Even if Mac hadn’t been celibate for several years, the remark ignited his temper. “We can’t all be happy living like monks,” he snapped.
Without moving a muscle, Kirkland’s expression changed to white rage.
Kicking himself for having trespassed on the unmentionable past, Mac said, “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“An understatement,” Kirkland growled.
“Give Lady Kiri credit for knowing her own mind,” Mac said, trying to sound conciliatory. “She’s intelligent, worldly, and not all that young. Most women her age are married with children.”
“I know you’re right.” Kirkland sighed. “But she isn’t just any intrepid young woman. She’s special.”
“She is.” Thinking of what had happened the night before, Mac continued, “If it makes you feel better, I promise not to seduce her.” It had been quite the other way around. “My job is to protect her, not ruin her.”
Kirkland collected his hat in preparation for leaving. “I’m sorry for not trusting you on this. I know better, but it’s been a demanding week.”
“For all of us. Now if that’s all, I’ll be off to some more gambling hells with the lady in question.”
Kirkland nodded, and Mac left the room. He’d been upset the night before when Kiri had chosen her words carefully to imply something different from the truth. A lie in intent if not words. Now he’d just done the same thing with Kirkland.
Starkly he faced his abominable behavior. He had succumbed to Kiri’s delicious self the night before, but he must not let that happen again.
He knew what the right thing was. He just wasn’t sure if he could do it.
Chapter 25
As they headed upstairs, Kiri said to Cassie, “We’re going to a place called Madame Blanche’s tonight, and Mac said I should ask you for help with a disguise. Should I be a doxy or a lady?”
Cassie pursed her lips. “More of a lady. Blanche’s house is something like Damian’s in that she attracts the well born who want their pleasures with refinement. So you might find your Alejandro man there, but it’s also more likely that you could be recognized by someone who has seen you at ton events.”
“I’ve been in England only since spring and am not well known,” Kiri protested.
“But your appearance is distinctive. You must look more ordinary. I’ll collect some things for your disguise and meet you in your room.” As she turned toward her room, Cassie added, “Wear the gold gown. It’s more respectable than the green one.”
“Not by much!”
The other woman grinned. “Respectable enough for Madame Blanche. Now to make sure that no one recognizes you as a duke’s daughter.”
The gold evening gown had a higher neckline than the green silk, but it was definitely not the sort of dress worn by young maidens. That was fine with Kiri, since white muslin was boring.
Cassie appeared in time to help Kiri into the garment. “This makes you look older and more worldly, which is good,” she said as she fastened a tie. “You also need a wig to change your coloring. I brought a couple with me.”
She held both up. One that was medium brown with a sprinkling of gray hairs. The other was lighter brown and cut in a short, curly style.
“This one.” Kiri took the curly wig. “I’ve always wondered how I’d look with short hair.”
“No one with hair like yours should cut it, but you’ll need to pin it tightly to wear a wig.” Cassie produced a handful of hairpins.
After the hair was pinned and the wig settled in place, Cassie said, “I’m going to powder your face heavily. That will lighten your skin to match the wig. It will also make you look like mutton trying to disguise yourself as lamb.”
“When instead I’m lamb disguising myself as mutton.” Kiri patted her curly head. “I’ve even got lamb’s curls.”
Cassie opened her cosmetics box and went to work. When she was satisfied, she said, “Look at yourself in the mirror.”
Kiri obeyed, and gave a gasp of astonishment. She literally did not recognize the pale Englishwoman in the mirror. Cassie had drawn dark lines around her mouth and in the corners of her eyes, then powdered over them to give the effect of poorly disguised wrinkles. Something had also been done to make her eyes less vividly green. “I look at least ten years older and English. My own mother would have trouble recognizing me.”
Cassie gave a nod of satisfaction. “That’s the point.”
Kiri opened her perfume case and took out a bottle. “This is my own modest contribution to changing my appearance. The fragrance is light and flowery, quite different from what I usually wear. Scent is part of how we recognize people, though not everyone is aware of that.” She applied some of the scent, then offered it to Cassie.
The other woman sniffed. “Very pleasant and it goes with those curls, but I see what you mean. You don’t smell like you.” She trailed her fingers hesitantly over other bottles in the case. “I didn’t realize how little I knew about scents.”
Recognizing yearning, Kiri pulled out one of her finished perfumes. “Try this. It might suit you.”
The scent was complex, with frangipani laid over darker notes of cedar and frankincense that hinted at unknown depths of character. Cassie’s face lit up when she smelled it. “This is marvelous! May I wear some tonight?”
“You may have the bottle. I call it Wood Song.”
“It’s lovely.” Cassie dabbed some on the base of her throat. “It reminds me of . . .” Her face shuttered. “Thank you. I shall cherish it.”
“I’d like to make a custom perfume just for you,” Kiri said.
“Perhaps someday. But first we must save England.” Cassie’s voice had a hint of self-mockery.
It was sobering to think that the fate of the nation might rest in Kiri’s inexperienced hands. Or rather, her highly trained nose. “I’m only useful here because I happened to witness the attempted kidnapping. You and the other agents I’ve met are true heroes even though your work is done behind the scenes.”
“You make agents sound more romantic than we are.” Cassie’s mouth twisted. “It’s dreary, often sordid work. The kind that grinds away youth and optimism.”
“Working as a scullery maid will do the same, and to less purpose.” Kiri draped her cloak over her arm. “Time to go. Good hunting.”
br /> “The same to you.”
Kiri descended to the ground floor and headed for the front parlor, where she was to meet Mackenzie. She opened the door to see a tired old gentleman sitting by the fire reading a newspaper.
Knowing better than to accept anyone in the house at face value, she asked brightly, “Are you my escort for the evening, sir? I was told that a handsome, virile young man would take me to Madame Blanche’s house this evening. It appears I’ve been deceived.”
Mackenzie glanced over his newspaper, letting his own grin show. “And I was told I’d be taking a choice young wench,” he said in a raspy voice. “Did you see her upstairs? Rather tall and dark-haired and elegant?”
“No such wench here,” she said as she admired Mackenzie’s disguise. He set aside the newspaper and got to his feet. His hair was mostly gray and his back was hunched with age. No eye patch tonight, but spectacles obscured his eyes so that his mismatched eyes weren’t noticeable. And he leaned on a cane. Dropping into her own voice, she said, “People will think I’m your daughter.”
“As long as they don’t recognize either of us.” He took her cloak and set it on her shoulders. “Will you give an old man an evening of pleasure?”
“Only if you promise not to die of a heart seizure at the end.” She took his arm and they left the parlor. Respectable life had never been so enjoyable as this.
Kiri was surprised to find that Madame Blanche’s exclusive salon was on the edge of fashionable Mayfair. As they climbed the steps, Mackenzie said under his breath, “Blanche is a widow who had to fend for herself and her children after her husband’s death. She’s done a better job of supporting her family than the late lamented ever did. Patrons of Damian’s often come here as well, which is why I took special pains with my appearance. You might meet people here from your family’s social circle.”
“If so, they won’t recognize me,” she said in a flat Midlands accent. “But it sounds like you know the lady fairly well. Will she recognize you?”
“Possibly. If she does, she won’t say anything. Very discreet is Madame Blanche.” He wielded the heavy door knocker.