so important…" The duke broke off and pulled at Aidan’s loose cravat with his fingers. "What the devil?" Gilbert’s smile broadened as he observed the rumbled hair and disheveled attire of his handsome brother-in-law. "Damnation, Aidan, you disappeared, and your sister spent half the evening searching for you. She would not be pleased to know that you have been tumbling a lady in Lord Reynolds’s own--"
"Gilbert, I must speak with you." Glenbroke’s eyes narrowed at the severe tone of his brother-in-law’s voice. He waited for Aidan to continue.
"What have you heard of a Lady Rivenhall?"
Gilbert shrugged his large shoulders. "Which one? There are several."
"Blonde, blue green eyes, young?" Aidan searched his eyes as he searched his memory.
"Sorry." Gilbert shook his head. "But she does not sound familiar." He raised both brows, a large grin spreading across his face. "Why do you wish to know Aidan? Did the lady perchance make this mark on your neck?" he chuckled, but stopped abruptly when his brother-in-law’s eyes became as cold as the emeralds they resembled.
"Yes, however, not for the reason you have assumed. Do you recall the details of my escape from the French encampment?"
The Duke of Glenbroke straightened to his full height. Gilbert’s jaw pulsed with tension as he waited for him to continue, his eyes sharpening to give his full attention to the subject being discussed.
"Most of them, yes."
"Napoleon’s paramour who questioned me at Albuera was none other than Lady Rivenhall." Aidan’s lip curled with contempt. "An English born lady who was searching Lord Reynolds’s bedchamber not more than four hours ago."
The duke’s eyes narrowed with shock. "Are you sure?"
"Positive." The men stared at one another until the duke’s head began to nod.
"Very well, then," Gilbert said, his demeanor hardening. "Give me the details of the lady in question. Tomorrow, I am meeting about another matter with a man who might be able to answer our inquires pertaining to the Lady Rivenhall. In the meantime, stay on your guard. At present you are likely the only person that can identify her as a French agent." Gilbert held his eyes, both men understanding the seriousness of the situation.
"I shall await your summons, Your Grace." Aidan bowed and left his sister’s home in favor of more elusive game.
Chapter Seven
"When is the admiral leaving?" the dark man asked.
"Tuesday," the woman walked toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "But I could not wait to see you, darling."
The man looked down at the homely chit in his arms as if she were Aphrodite incarnate. Her upturned nose and droopy eyes reminded him of a pig, and her mousy brown hair lacked even a luster that might cause one to overlook the drab color.
Fortunately, the girl had an exceptional body, which is most likely why the admiral had married her. That and an enormous dowry.
"Where is he now?"
"Do not concern yourself, dearest, Alfred is attending a meeting at Whitehall and informed me that he would be away for the majority of the day." The girl traced the scar on his jaw with her finger and smiled. "We have all morning to enjoy one another."
The man looked into her dark blue eyes as if he adored her. He placed his palm on her cheeks, wrapping his fingers around the nape of her neck as he drew her to him. If he wanted to search the admiral’s study, he needed to get her out of the way, and the fastest way of doing that was to tire the girl out.
"I need you, Sophie," he whispered just before slanting his mouth over hers. He kissed her hungrily in an attempt to hurry the process along. "I love you, Sophie. You are all I think about, all I want."
He placed his hand over her breast, causing the girl to gasp out loud. He caressed her and then pushed the bodice of her gown down, feigning impatience. His nimble fingers unlaced her corset, and he reminded himself to leave her addicted to his touch. She stepped out of her skirts, tossing her
"Gilbert, I must speak with you." Glenbroke’s eyes narrowed at the severe tone of his brother-in-law’s voice. He waited for Aidan to continue.
"What have you heard of a Lady Rivenhall?"
Gilbert shrugged his large shoulders. "Which one? There are several."
"Blonde, blue green eyes, young?" Aidan searched his eyes as he searched his memory.
"Sorry." Gilbert shook his head. "But she does not sound familiar." He raised both brows, a large grin spreading across his face. "Why do you wish to know Aidan? Did the lady perchance make this mark on your neck?" he chuckled, but stopped abruptly when his brother-in-law’s eyes became as cold as the emeralds they resembled.
"Yes, however, not for the reason you have assumed. Do you recall the details of my escape from the French encampment?"
The Duke of Glenbroke straightened to his full height. Gilbert’s jaw pulsed with tension as he waited for him to continue, his eyes sharpening to give his full attention to the subject being discussed.
"Most of them, yes."
"Napoleon’s paramour who questioned me at Albuera was none other than Lady Rivenhall." Aidan’s lip curled with contempt. "An English born lady who was searching Lord Reynolds’s bedchamber not more than four hours ago."
The duke’s eyes narrowed with shock. "Are you sure?"
"Positive." The men stared at one another until the duke’s head began to nod.
"Very well, then," Gilbert said, his demeanor hardening. "Give me the details of the lady in question. Tomorrow, I am meeting about another matter with a man who might be able to answer our inquires pertaining to the Lady Rivenhall. In the meantime, stay on your guard. At present you are likely the only person that can identify her as a French agent." Gilbert held his eyes, both men understanding the seriousness of the situation.
"I shall await your summons, Your Grace." Aidan bowed and left his sister’s home in favor of more elusive game.
Chapter Seven
"When is the admiral leaving?" the dark man asked.
"Tuesday," the woman walked toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "But I could not wait to see you, darling."
The man looked down at the homely chit in his arms as if she were Aphrodite incarnate. Her upturned nose and droopy eyes reminded him of a pig, and her mousy brown hair lacked even a luster that might cause one to overlook the drab color.
Fortunately, the girl had an exceptional body, which is most likely why the admiral had married her. That and an enormous dowry.
"Where is he now?"
"Do not concern yourself, dearest, Alfred is attending a meeting at Whitehall and informed me that he would be away for the majority of the day." The girl traced the scar on his jaw with her finger and smiled. "We have all morning to enjoy one another."
The man looked into her dark blue eyes as if he adored her. He placed his palm on her cheeks, wrapping his fingers around the nape of her neck as he drew her to him. If he wanted to search the admiral’s study, he needed to get her out of the way, and the fastest way of doing that was to tire the girl out.
"I need you, Sophie," he whispered just before slanting his mouth over hers. He kissed her hungrily in an attempt to hurry the process along. "I love you, Sophie. You are all I think about, all I want."
He placed his hand over her breast, causing the girl to gasp out loud. He caressed her and then pushed the bodice of her gown down, feigning impatience. His nimble fingers unlaced her corset, and he reminded himself to leave her addicted to his touch. She stepped out of her skirts, tossing her
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