Page 47 of Lord Ashley's Beautiful Alibi
“We have been successful today,” he announced as she rearranged her bodice and he shifted in his breeches.
The whole of Paris would have her in his bed tonight.
Oh, that they were right.
How wrong she had been about kissing him. Not torture, but bliss.
She had only two more days in this carriage to do it. Then as they made their way into the country, there would be no more.
The reality of it had her losing sleep that night and the next.
Chapter Twelve
Three days later,Kane appeared at two o’clock, their agreed-upon time for today, their last day in the city. Shown to a tiny salon at the rear of Countess Nugent’s mansion where a pianoforte stood in the sunlight from the window, he awaited Gus.
He stood by the tall windows looking out toward the boulevard. He did not detect anyone following him today. But then, Fouché and Vaillancourt employed the very finest. Kane never underestimated an opponent, certainly not the renowned police of new, bold, unruly France.
He took no chances. The three sets of diversions for the coming trip out of Paris would be an excellent ruse. He wanted no one to hurt Gus or St. Antoine, if they found her. He’d take no chances anyone would interrupt their trip or take Gus from him. Their kisses of the past few days had told him he could wish for more. Even if Gus told him she did not wish to be intimate with any man, he knew men and women changed their minds about such things.
He flexed his shoulders. He wished he had not changed his mind about Gus. But there it was. He liked her. He admired her. He wanted her, but he had not used intimacy as the lure to make her do his will.
He would not crush the opportunity to find St. Antoine. He’d learned much in his youth about women. Gus needed to cometo him in all things. And as for him, he was too old to spoil an assignment by seducing a woman who did not wish to be taken.
Still, he thrilled to the touch of Gus’s beautiful lips on his. She would kiss him today in the open carriage in the brilliant light of day for all to witness, just as she had the past two. Her kisses were a true and honest event. He would never tell her that. She’d run from him, and that, he could not have. Not now. Not when they were about to embark on the journey to accomplish their goal.
So he would take her away. To his old friend’s ancient hunting lodge a twenty-minute ride from the center of Reims, tucked into the rolling hills full of vineyards, they would go. Few would find them. Few could intrude. As he recalled from his youth, the house was huge. It sat atop a small hill and overlooked the nearby vista. There was a library where they could sit and read. A well-stocked smokehouse. A village lady who kindly supplied vegetables. And a small, useful kitchen.
Impatient for Gus to appear for their ride, he strode to the pianoforte in the center of the countess’s salon and sat down. The appeal of the open keyboard was too much, and he began the Mozart that he and Gus had played together.
Only a few bars into the music, he paused at the sight of the woman who appeared at the threshold. The lady was not Gus, but her aunt, Countess Nugent.
The woman was a legend in France and England. Perhaps forty years old, she looked a decade younger. Admirable for the changes she’d endured and the horrors she’d survived. Gracious, still a queen of Parisian Society, she had navigated years of associations with notorious men who had rewarded her with a less-than-perfect reputation, large parcels of property, and a fortune in jewels and investments to support it all.
“Good afternoon, Lord Ashley.” She sailed toward him in an azure chiffon that billowed as she flowed forward, defining her still superb figure. “I am pleased you are on time.”
He bowed with chivalry. “I am pleased to be received.”
“Do take your leisure, my lord.” She took a chair opposite the sofa she nodded toward. “Augustine will be here shortly. I took the opportunity to come speak with you myself. You and I have met, talked, and established a certain enjoyment of each other, haven’t we?”
He took to the sofa done in bold yellow and jade Chinoiserie print, relaxing into the cushions, but his attitude was an act. The lady wanted something. He had an idea what it was, but he would hear her out. He doubted, however, he could comply with her wishes to leave Gus here.
“Augustine tells me she goes away with you.”
He lifted his brows in affirmation.
The countess folded her hands in her lap. “I will be bold, sir. This affection you have for each other runs hot and fast. I find your decision to take a holiday together in the country abrupt and dangerous.”
“Sometimes one sees in another a reason to act quickly.”
“Not in this city, sir. Not with my niece.”
He clenched his teeth. Had she dissuaded Gus from going away with him? “I do not wish to cause you pain, my lady.”
“It is not my pain I anticipate, sir. But Augustine’s.”
“Aunt Cecily.” Gus stood in the doorway. Her cheeks were red with anger, her head high. “I am of age.”
Gus walked in, stuck her parasol against the wall, and headed straight for Kane. Plunking herself without ceremony on the sofa, she stared at Countess Nugent. “We addressed this subject days ago, Aunt.”
