Page 52 of Lord Ashley's Beautiful Alibi
So their journey of three days north went without incident. The carriage was comfortable, the journey full of their growing need to touch and stroke and kiss. But oh, their friendship was gone. In its place was this chafing arousal that rubbed raw his restraint with a knowledge that whispered,She’s yours to have.
*
The hunting lodgehe had retained was close on the road to Reims, owned by a very old friend of his who traveled often to Bruges and Ostend for his chocolate trade. The man was still alive, Kane was pleased to learn.
Henri Montand had been one of those on the list Scarlett had given Kane to investigate whether he still worked their network. Montand and Kane had sent coded messages to each other these past few weeks, and when Kane knew he would need a venue to investigate St. Antoine’s whereabouts, he readily asked Henri for use of his lodge.
As their carriage passed a farrier’s hut and a wine tavern, Gus perked up. “I know this part of town. You did not tell me we were to be so near the city.”
“If we are to travel to St. Antoine vineyards, we must be fairly close.”
“Why did you not tell me that?”
He met her gaze with frankness. “I did not tell you much in case you let slip where we headed.”
“You did not trust me to be discreet.” She did not sound insulted, only stated a fact.
“I had to learn how well I could trust you, Gus.”
She squeezed his hand. “I understand. We are well invested in each other.”
“We are.” He traced the exquisite line of her cheek. “And you will tell me about your relationship with Amber St. Antoine. I need to know what we look for, when and how.”
“You are right. Let’s have a bath and dinner and then talk, shall we?”
*
The three-story lodgewas a grand affair for a house that sat in a valley among the gentle hills of the Champagne region. On the edge of a thick copse, the small chateau looked like a perfect place for many to enjoy themselves as they went out each day to hunt for deer.
“But that is unusual these days,” Kane told her as he poured from a crystal decanter a pretty, pale, butteryvin blanc. “Many have cleared the forest. There is so much land under cultivation.”
“Mostly wine?” she asked him, so pleased to be sitting in a warm gathering room with a roaring fire, good wine, and excellent company. Her company. He, alone.
She took a sip and thrilled to the smooth flavor—and to the prospect that if she wanted the Earl of Ashley, she would allow herself the pleasure. But after her aunt’s pointed warnings, Gus forced herself to focus on her task at hand.
“Some barley, wheat, but mostly wine, yes.”
“And who have cooked dinner for us? The aromas are”—she inhaled and closed her eyes—“tempting.”
“The gentleman who owns this lodge is on business in Bruges. He had a maid who lives in.”
“Patrice. I met her upstairs. She helped me unpack. A very friendly lady.”
“He also hires a cook to come in each day. There is a man of all trades who lives in the stables. Our coachmen stay with him in the lofts.”
“I hope they are warm. Those men worked extremely hard these past few days to bring us here. I would have them well fed and comfortable.”
“As would I,” Kane told her with a smile. “It is good to reward those who help you.”
“A tenet we all learned from the revolution, isn’t it?”
“Indeed.” He came to sit beside her on the settee before the fire.
“So am I to understand you know the owner of this chateau?”
“I asked a friend to find a house I might rent for a few days.” He looked at the flames as they danced behind the grate. “This isclose enough to Reims. I wanted us to be able to duck into town and leave easily.”
Why did he not sound totally honest with her? But then, she had not told him all the reasons she sought Amber. “You have been to the St. Antoine vineyards, I imagine.”
