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Authors: Darcy Burke

Romancing the Earl (23 page)

BOOK: Romancing the Earl
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She inhaled sharply. “This man is quite committed to obtaining the tapestry.”

“Yes, but not for himself. He has an employer, but Dalby didn’t know his identity. He was to deliver letters written by Crane—the man who hired these thieves—to Wade later tonight, but now that he’s gone, I doubt I’ll ever see them.”

“Why are these letters important?”

“Crane—or perhaps his employer—arranged for this position for Dalby. In exchange, he was to use his continuing relationship with a maid at Cosgrove to share any pertinent information regarding the tapestry.”

“I see. You said he disappeared? He simply left his post?”

He set his hands on his hips. “Yes. Colman said he’d never done anything like this before. I must’ve frightened him off. Damn it, I should have made him fetch those letters right away this afternoon.”

He didn’t frighten her, yet in that moment, under the severity of his stare and the menacing curl of his lip, she believed he could intimidate anyone. She resisted the pull she felt to move toward him. “Are you certain he took the letters with him?”

“Quite. I excused myself from dinner—good Lord, what a ridiculous affair—to find Dalby and ask him to fetch the letters for me.”
 

His opinion of the dinner pleased Cate inordinately. “That was when you discovered he’d gone?”

“Colman was unable to locate him, so I went directly to his quarters. His room was in disarray and the majority of his belongings were gone. It was clear to me—and later to Colman after I alerted him—that the bounder had fled.”

“Do you think he left because you questioned him?”

He dropped his hand to his side and raised his head. “I do. Everything is bloody connected. I wanted those letters to try to discern the identity of whoever is in charge of this operation to steal the tapestry. Whoever it is was able to procure Dalby’s position here at Stratton Hall. It’s all too convenient.”

Her brain halted and her emotions spun into apprehension. “You think his assignment at Stratton Hall is convenient?”

His hesitation pricked the back of her neck. “You have a connection here. You want the sword. The coincidence is disturbing.” He spoke softly, but there was a thread of foreboding lacing his tone.

“You can’t believe I had anything to do with your brother’s death?” Her insides felt hollow.

“I don’t want to, but I don’t know what to believe anymore. All I know is that I was enjoying a perfectly fine existence on the other side of the world and now I find myself encumbered with an earldom, a murdered brother, and a woman who demands far too much of me.”

He’d moved toward her as he spoke, his ire radiated from him, heating the space around her.

She didn’t want to be the cause of his anguish. “I never intended to be demanding. If you’d prefer to part ways, I won’t try to stop you.”

“Of course you won’t,” he whispered harshly. “You know where to find the sword. You have precisely what you want.”

The pain in his voice drew her in, kept her from rising to his anger. She suspected he wasn’t truly upset with her, that he really didn’t think she’d had anything to do with Matthew’s death. But she had to be sure.

She took a step toward him, until they were just a breath apart. “I want this sword more than I’ve ever wanted anything, and I am prepared to do whatever it takes to find it. But I would never,
never,
sacrifice someone. And I would certainly never be able to look that man’s brother in the eye and tell him that right now the only thing I want more than the sword is him.”

“Miss B—”


Cate,
call me Cate.”

“Cate, you can’t . . . You can’t speak to me like that. Not unless you want to be kissed. And not like that kiss the other night.”

She laid her hand against his chest. “Perhaps you should not have invaded my bedchamber when I’m barely dressed. Not unless
you
want to be kissed.”

“Hell and the devil,” he breathed as his arm snaked around her waist and drew her against him.

“Please don’t make it like the other night. Make it better.”

His eyes gleaming in the candlelight, he lowered his mouth to hers and snatched her lips in a decadent kiss. One hand held her waist while the other cupped her nape, holding her absolutely hostage to his embrace.

His tongue swept into her mouth, claiming every bit of her that he touched. Cate grasped at his shoulders before curling her arms around his neck. She had to stand on her toes to reach him, which stretched her body against him in a devastating connection, one that was simultaneously overwhelming and not nearly enough.

She angled her head, hoping to deepen the kiss. He answered with a sound in his throat and his fingers digging into her waist, bringing her inexorably closer to his hard frame. Clad in just a nightrail and her dressing gown, Cate felt every contour of his body—and of his clothing.

She shoved her hands beneath his coat and pushed it over his shoulders. Without breaking the kiss, she tugged the arms down until the garment came free and she dropped it to the floor.

His mouth left hers, but traced along her jaw until he threaded his fingers into the back of her hair and tugged, elongating her neck. He kissed and nipped at her flesh, torturing her with his delicious lips and tongue, before reclaiming her mouth.

She tangled her fingers into his cravat and pulled at the silk until it came loose. With a merciless tug, she whipped it from his neck and threw it aside. Her hands dipped into his shirt and found the warm flesh of his collarbones. She clasped him, pulled at him, thrust her tongue deeper into the hot recesses of his mouth.

His hand moved up her spine and then forward until his thumb grazed her breast. Her nipple instantly hardened and again he left her mouth to kiss down her neck.

“Norris,” she pleaded, not entirely certain of what she wanted, but confident that he could give it to her.


Elijah.
Norris is a name I never wanted and can’t bloody stand.” He pushed her dressing gown aside and kissed the flesh above her nightrail, his mouth open and hot against her.

She plunged her fingers into his hair and moaned as he kissed even lower, his lips moving over the linen of her garment. The feel of him through the light fabric was an exquisite tease and she longed to take it off. But to do so would sever the moment, and she couldn’t bear for it to end.

She turned him so that the bed was behind her, her intent crystallizing in her mind. She
did
want him more than the sword. Her flesh burned where he touched her and smoldered everywhere he didn’t. The ache growing between her thighs was all-encompassing, crowding out all other thought.

Finding the buttons of his waistcoat, she plucked them free until she could push the garment open. She ran her palms up his shirtfront, eager to feel his bare skin.

“Cate.” The word was a strangled whisper against her breast, a plea.
“Cate,”
he rasped. A curse.

She clutched at his head. “Don’t stop. I don’t want you to. And I know you want me. There’s no reason to deny ourselves.”

He lifted his head and looked at her with lust simmering in his gaze. The pull of that alone was enough to make her knees weaken. “There is every reason. You are not some trollop.”

“Of course I’m not, and you’re not treating me like one.” She pulled his neck until his mouth was near hers. “Please don’t think about propriety or expectation. Just think about this.” She kissed him again, nipping his lower lip before plunging her tongue into his mouth.

His hand moved over her breast, dipping into the top of her night rail. When his fingers came into contact with her bare flesh, heat flooded through her, pushing her desire to an almost unbearable sensation.

The latch on the door sounded like the blast of a cannon. And just like that their spectacularly magnificent interlude came to a crashing and wholly disappointing end.

Elijah jerked away from her and snatched his waistcoat closed. He fumbled with the buttons, keeping his back to the door and whomever had just come inside. He swallowed a groan of frustration. There was no way he could appropriately clothe himself.

Echoing his thoughts, Cate whispered, “Don’t bother. Grey won’t care and it’s not as if you can make this look acceptable. I’m in my dressing gown, for heaven’s sake.”

He glanced down at her attire as she pulled her garments back into place. Blood and bones, what had he nearly done? He’d been a scant moment from bending his head to her breast and suckling her, devouring her, claiming her.
 

“Good evening, my lord,” Grey said from behind him. “Should I come back later?”

Elijah nearly choked. What the hell sort of chaperone was she? “No.” He finished buttoning his waistcoat as Grey moved past them.

“I’ll just give you a moment or two,” she said, going through the doorway in the corner that likely led to a dressing chamber and her sleeping area, leaving them blessedly alone to compose themselves.
 

Hell, there was only one way he could rightfully compose himself and he wasn’t about to do it here. He plucked up his coat and cravat, pulling the latter around his neck before donning the former. “That was a near thing,” he said.

“Not near enough,” she murmured, her voice heavy with regret. Her dark eyes lifted to his, and the stark lust shining there almost did him in.

“Stop looking at me like that. And stop saying provocative things. We are business associates until we find this sword and nothing more.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How can you say that now?”

“Because someone has to regain their head. Let us not speak of this again.” Really, if he didn’t put it from his mind, he was going to embarrass himself. He struggled to change the subject to something more suitable. “We’ll be on our way in the morning. Be ready to depart early.” He turned to go, but she touched his arm and he had to clench his fists to keep from snatching her against his chest.

“What about Dalby?”

Damn, he’d completely forgotten why he’d come to see her in the first place. Why had he? To tell her that Dalby had run off. Wade had been busy and Elijah hadn’t wanted to interrupt him. No, that wasn’t precisely true. The first person he’d thought of seeing when he’d found out had been Cate. And
that
was a disaster. Elijah strove to find the control he normally employed, but that he’d utterly lost when he’d come into her bedchamber.
Her bedchamber.
He pulled away from her touch. “What about him? He’s gone.”

“We can go after him.”

“What of the sword?” He couldn’t believe she’d delay her quest even more. She hadn’t even wanted to stop here.

“It will still be there.” She didn’t sound completely certain, but he appreciated her trying to.

“You don’t know that. We’ll leave for Harlech in the morning.”

She made to touch him again, but he backed away and she dropped her hand. “I really do want to find out what happened to Matthew.”

“We’ll need to be careful going forward. I expect Crane to try again—unless he’s too injured to continue.” All of the highwaymen had been injured in some way, but there was no telling which one was Crane since they’d all worn masks covering their faces from hairline to mouth. Presumably, the mystery employer could simply hire more brigands, if he didn’t already have an army of them.
 

Elijah noted the concern in her dark eyes. He still wanted her away from this danger.

She tipped her head to the side. “Don’t even dare think of abandoning me now,” she said, accurately guessing the direction of his thoughts. “I meant what I said—we’re in this together.”

Together.

In more ways than simply pursuing the sword, he realized. He took in her kiss-reddened lips and the strands of hair that had escaped the simple knot she wore at the back of her head. She was temptation personified and if he didn’t leave now, he sure as hell was going to regret it. Spinning on his heel, he departed without a backward glance.

The corridor was blissfully cool and he finally felt as though his control was returning. He went to his room—it was neither near nor terribly far from hers—and was immediately greeted by Wade.

Elijah handed him his coat and cravat. “You cut your evening short.”

“Had to. I heard some disturbing news and wanted to tell you at once. Dalby’s gone off.”

BOOK: Romancing the Earl
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