Tempting the Scoundrel Page 2

  She chuckled. “You sound just like your grandfather.”

  “The truth cannot be ignored.” Few knew her true age of seventy-six years as her slim figure and good bone structure served her well. Her golden hair had faded to grey at the temples years ago, giving her a regal look. Bright green eyes sparkled with a joy for life that few matched.

  She examined his appearance just as closely. “Judging by the shadows under your eyes, you’ve had too little rest. It’s past time you returned home.”

  He dropped his gaze, not wanting her to see too much. His last mission had been exhausting. Living a double life meant few hours of sleep. He’d played the rogue in Paris, making certain he was seen at notable parties as well as at the more popular gaming hells and a brothel or two.

  After the parties ended as well as during the day, he met with counterparts in French and Spanish Intelligence to compare notes and share fragments of the information he’d learned. Sharing more would have been foolhardy.

  Intelligence work was much like a card game, where intentions and knowledge were kept close to the vest. His instincts for knowing whom he could trust gave him an advantage few others held. He liked to think he had his grandfather to thank for the skill.

  The rumors of Prussia’s growing power and alliances with Russia and Austria were of grave concern, especially to France. Any unrest on the Continent had direct ramifications to England, hence Elliott’s visit.

  He wondered how much his grandmother knew of his true activities. After all, he’d followed in his grandfather’s footsteps by serving his country. As the wife of a lord involved in such an endeavor, she must have had her suspicions as to what her husband was up to, especially since the couple had shared a deep love—although only after being forced to marry to save her from ruin. His grandmother insisted that fate had intervened and one unexpected evening had changed everything for them.

  “I’m pleased to be home at last,” he answered. It didn’t truly matter what she knew as he could never confirm nor deny his activities.

  In his heart, he hoped she knew he was more than a scoundrel searching for the next good time and a new lover.

  The question of who he was without his position in the Intelligence Office or his cover as a rogue was one that had bothered him of late. He’d been living a lie for so long, he was no longer sure who he truly was.

  “Sit and tell me of your travels,” she said as she released him.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, almost wishing she hadn’t asked. He hated to lie. Yet as he sifted through his memories of the past few weeks, he found a few truthful details he could share.

  She’d travelled often with his grandfather and enjoyed hearing of the places she’d seen firsthand.

  “If only you would agree to come with me on my next trip,” he added after they had spoken for a time, knowing she would refuse just like she always did.

  “Perhaps one of these days I will surprise you and do just that.”

  His stomach tightened at the thought. Did her sudden change of heart have something to do with the woman he’d found in his library? What sort of influence did she have over his grandmother?

  “Now tell me of you. How have you fared?” He leaned back in his chair, pleased to be in her company but determined to discover what exactly had happened in his absence.

  “I have news to share.” Her eyes sparkled with joy. “I cannot wait for you to meet Sophia.”

  The image of the lady in question filled his mind. “I already have.”

  “Excellent. I know you’ll adore her as much as I do. How I’ve managed all this time without her is a mystery. When your Uncle Daniel suggested I have a companion, I thought it a terrible idea.” She shook her head. “Why would I want someone underfoot all the time?”

  Elliott clenched his jaw. That was exactly how he felt. Hopefully his grandmother would see why the woman could leave now that he’d returned.

  “But Sophia is an absolute delight.” Elliott’s hopes were dashed by her words. “She is well-educated and clever and so eager to share new experiences.”

  “Humph.” Those qualities did not suit him. Not when he was hiding his work as a spy.

  “I confess I was feeling a bit blue and venturing out less and less during your absence.”

  Guilt reared its ugly head at her words. He’d been gone longer than he’d anticipated due to information he’d learned. Each rumor required careful study to sift through the lies to discover the truth. Given the alarming content, he’d stayed nearly ten days longer than he intended.

  “My apologies for my lengthy absence.” He bit his tongue before he confessed the reason for it.

  “Oh, please.” She waved a hand in dismissal of his words. “You have better things to do than keep an old woman company.”

  He started to reply only to realize any response would reveal things he shouldn’t. At last he latched onto the truth he could share. “You know you are the love of my life.”

  She laughed, just as he hoped she would. Then she leaned forward as though to share a delicious secret. “I am most anxious for the day when you truly find the love of your life. I know your choice won’t disappoint me.”

  His chest tightened at her words. The chances of that happening were nonexistent. If he were to follow in his grandparents’ footsteps and find a great love, the woman would be falling for someone who didn’t exist. He lived his life immersed in falsehoods. That wouldn’t be true love.

  “How could I possibly love anyone more than you?” he asked with a smile. Her laughter brushed away his worry.

  “Whatever am I to do with you, Elliott? You are a scoundrel just like your grandfather.” She sighed, her gaze focused on something only she could see. She reached for the locket his grandfather had given her to rub its golden surface as she so often did.

  “Are you certain you want to keep Miss Markham as your companion?” He hoped his grandmother would realize that having her underfoot would only be a nuisance. While a companion might be beneath a normal lord’s notice, Elliott spent much of his time at home in his grandmother’s company. Miss Markham would not be easy to ignore, not as lovely as she was. It would be far easier if she left. “Now that I’ve returned, it seems unnecessary.”

  “Of course, I want to retain her. You are never here even when you’re in town. Besides, I am thoroughly enjoying her company. Wait until you come to know her, then you will understand.”

  Why did his grandmother’s words feel more like a threat than a promise?

  ~*~

  Time passed slowly as Sophia waited for a knock on the door that would summon her to the earl’s library where she would be formally dismissed.

  She refused to start packing as his lordship had suggested. That seemed like it would send a message to the heavens that she was willing to go when she wasn’t. Not without protest.

  Tired of pacing and waiting for a knock, she stepped into the hall, feeling a trespasser in what had started to feel like her home. Did she dare seek out the countess? But what if the earl was still with her?

  She had no desire to show him she hadn’t followed his order and risk angering him. Heart pounding, she walked downstairs in search of a footman or Codwell, hoping not to run into the earl.

  When a footman advised her that the earl was in his library, she breathed a sigh of relief. Surely that was a good sign.

  She hurried up the stairs to the countess’s withdrawing room and knocked on the door before opening it.

  “There you are, dear,” the older woman said with a smile as Sophia curtsied. “I was beginning to wonder what happened to you this afternoon.”

  Sophia sat beside the woman of whom she’d grown so fond. “May I speak frankly, my lady?” She couldn’t bear the idea of having the threat of dismissal hanging over her head.

  “Of course.”

  “I had the...pleasure of meeting the earl earlier. He advised me that my services would no longer be needed now that he has returned.” Sophia’s stomach tightened as she held her breath, waiting for an answer.

  “Nonsense. He only has his nose out of joint as you were his uncle’s idea rather than his own. He likes his privacy, so I suppose the thought of someone else living here is less than appealing, but he will become accustomed to it.”

  Though she wanted to hug the countess in relief, she did her best to keep her happiness to a reasonable level. The idea of searching for another position when she and the countess got on so well had been worrying to say the least. “I am very pleased to hear that. Will the earl be leaving again soon?” Sophia hoped so as she found his presence quite unnerving already.

  “Not for some time, I hope.” She reached out to pat Sophia’s arm. “Have no worries. I am certain the two of you will grow quite fond of each other.”

  Sophia had to clear her throat to keep from scoffing a denial. She couldn’t imagine having a normal conversation with the earl, let alone growing fond of him. He was the exact type of person her aunt had warned her about. No doubt he was like her father—not to be trusted with women or money. “I’m sure,” she managed at last.

  “Now then I would like you to read another chapter of that mystery before we decide which gathering we’re attending this evening.”

  She retrieved the book from a nearby table. “I thought you had already decided we were attending the Rutland’s musical.”

  “Since Elliott has returned, I think a ball would be a better choice.” She tapped her upper lip, a sign she was pondering the options. “I believe the Charrington ball will be our best choice. Balls are always more delightful with Elliott there.”

  Sophia hid her sigh. The last thing she wanted to do was attend a ball and watch as the earl seduced women. If that was what a rogue did at a ball. Yet she couldn
’t ignore the flash of heat that filled her at the idea of those jade green eyes watching her as a charming smile tilted his lips.

  Berating herself, she opened the book, but wondered what the night would bring. Her best option was to steer clear of the earl and hope he forgot his wish to dismiss her.

  ~*~

  Elliott scanned the crush at the Charrington’s that evening, searching for one of his contacts. He intended to pay a visit to Prime Minister Gladwell on the morrow, but if he had the opportunity to share some of the information he’d discovered on his trip now, he’d sleep easier.

  “What a lovely surprise,” a feminine voice purred in his ear.

  Elliott turned to find Lady Hamilton at his side, a widow he’d enjoyed a dalliance with several years ago. Born in Prussia with a large family who still lived there, along with several Russian uncles, the lady was well connected. Internationally connected. She knew more than most of the intelligence community combined. Though beautiful, there was something sly in her demeanor he didn’t care for.

  Rather than the grimace he was feeling, he greeted her with a smile, taking her gloved hand to raise it to his lips. “You are more alluring with each year that passes, my lady.”

  She gave a sultry chuckle then bit her lower lip as her gaze roved over him. He wondered if she was picturing him naked. The woman had an insatiable appetite. “How was Paris?”

  He raised a brow as he released her hand. “How did you know I was in Paris?” He kept his smile in place even as his senses went on high alert.

  Her eyes widened ever so slightly. “I believe the countess mentioned it.”

  He’d be willing to wager his grandmother had said no such thing. The idea of Lady Hamilton speaking with her was laughable. It looked as if he’d be pursuing the lady with the hope of finding out all she was willing to share.

  Girding himself for the task ahead, he widened his smile as he offered her his elbow. “Perhaps you’d care to dance?”

  “I would love to.” The heat in her gaze warned him of her interest.

  As he glanced past her, he caught sight of hazel eyes watching him from the side of the ballroom.

  Miss Markham.

  She stood near his grandmother who visited with several friends. He could almost see the woman’s internal struggle, torn between disapproval and curiosity as she studied him.

  Which side would win? What would it be like to watch her eyes light with passion?

  Part of him was tempted to find out.

  But for the moment, he needed to keep his focus on Lady Hamilton to see if he could coax any secrets from her. After dancing and planning a rendezvous for later in the evening, he visited with a few acquaintances before making his way toward his grandmother.

  “Aberland.” Lord Baskwell greeted him as Elliott passed by. “Haven’t seen you in an age.”

  Elliott shook the lord’s hand. “Good to see you.” Yet he realized almost immediately it wasn’t.

  He and Baskwell had attended university together, but from that point forward, their lives had taken different paths, with Elliott beginning his work for the Intelligence Office. Baskwell had become a true rogue, while Elliott only pretended.

  Overindulging in drink and other excesses had taken their toll on Baskwell. His skin was ruddy, his nose already showing signs of the veins that marked those who drank heavily. Though the hour was early, the man’s words slurred and he swayed alarmingly.

  Was this who Elliott would become if he gave up his work and became a lord of leisure like Baskwell? Would he continue the role of scoundrel if no other purpose filled him?

  The question of who he truly was without either of his identities worried Elliott.

  Continuing through the crowd, Elliott reached his grandmother, greeting her as he always did, with a kiss on both cheeks, sending her friends into giggles. He always marveled at how their behavior wasn’t so different from debutantes in many respects. Or perhaps they simply made less of an effort to hide their amusement.

  “You look wonderful as always,” he told her as he admired her deep violet gown. Though he knew she missed his grandfather terribly since his death five years ago, he was pleased she no longer wore the dreary colors of mourning. She was much too vibrant of a person for that.

  “Why, thank you.” Her smile lightened his heart and made him realize again how much he’d missed her.

  Her attention shifted to her side. Elliott turned to find Miss Markham. Her gaze tangled with his for a moment before she dipped into a graceful curtsy. “Good evening, my lord.”

  “Are you enjoying the ball?” he asked out of politeness.

  “Very much. Thank you.” She eased back, as though attempting to fade into the background.

  If his grandmother refused to dismiss the woman, perhaps he could chase her away by making her uncomfortable. That shouldn’t be too difficult as she’d already revealed her disapproval of him. He smiled at the thought of how quickly he could convince her to leave.

  “Will you give me the pleasure of dancing with you?” he asked, all too aware of the twittering of the ladies surrounding his grandmother. He knew it was unusual for an earl to ask a paid companion to dance, but that was his purpose—shock.

  His grandmother nodded in approval. “Do go dance with Elliott, my dear. Standing beside me all evening must bore you to tears.”

  “Not at all. I’m happy to enjoy your company and listen to the music.”

  “I insist,” Elliott intervened. “Grandmother is in fine companionship at the moment.” He offered his elbow.

  A lovely shade of pink rose in Miss Markham’s cheeks, her eyes glittering in the candlelight as she placed her gloved hand on his elbow. “Thank you.”

  He glanced over her gown as they walked, admiring the simplicity of the pale blue silk with its narrow ruffles. The rounded neckline revealed more of her alabaster skin. The dress was flat along her stomach, the fabric drawn into a small bustle at the back, emphasizing her delicate curves. The gown was modest, especially when compared to Lady Hamilton’s. But sometimes it was more about what was hidden than what was revealed.

  He should know as he’d spent the past few years seeking hidden information. He frowned at the odd thread of his thoughts this evening. Obviously, he was more tired than he realized.

  As they reached the dance floor, the strains of a waltz began. He turned to face her, placing a hand on her waist and taking her hand in his. Was that a tremble he detected?

  He searched for other signs of nerves, his gaze catching on the rapid pulse beating at the base of her neck. Why did he long to touch that delicate spot?

  “You’re enjoying the ball thus far?” The twinge of guilt he felt at her obvious nervousness surprised him. Wasn’t that exactly the reaction he was hoping for?

  “It is very nice.” Her voice revealed nothing, her expression calm and demure. It was her eyes that gave her away—something glittered in their depths.

  As he led them around the dance floor and she glided with him through the movements, the crowd fell away.

  Her dark curls were drawn into an artful chignon that bounced lightly as they whirled along. He had the urge to release her so he might touch a strand to see if it was as soft as it looked. Her dark brow arched, as though wondering at his thoughts.

  He gave his roguish smile, hoping to suggest he was thinking things he shouldn’t be thinking in polite company.

  But she either wasn’t affected by his attempt or didn’t believe he’d do so with her.

  It bothered him that he couldn’t tell which it was.

  “Have you always lived in London?” he asked, when their movements permitted conversation.

  “No.”

  He waited but when she offered nothing more, he continued, “In the country then?”

  “Yes.”

  Usually he was more successful in convincing people to talk, especially ladies. He searched his mind for a question that wouldn’t allow a simple yes or no answer.

  “Aberland, there’s no need for all this,” she informed him.

  “Please, call me Elliott.”

  “Very well.” Her lips tightened for a moment before she continued, “Elliott.”

  His given name coming from her created an unexpected reaction, a shiver of awareness he hadn’t expected. Unable to resist, he pressed her. “May I call you Sophia?” He wanted to repeat her name, enjoying the roll of it off his tongue.