Page 24 of Lord Carlisle's Enticing Lure
Giselle widened her eyes.
“Oh.” Amber sat back. “I see. Heisinteresting.”
“Alluring,” teased Gus.
“You two fantasize,” Giselle said with less conviction than she should.
“He is very handsome,” Amber added. “A widower, you know.”
“I do.” Giselle tried to laugh away the subject of her enchantment with Carlisle. “Please listen to me. I need to talk with you both privately.”
“Tomorrow,” Gus said, a quick scan of the room allowing her a small, strained smile.
“I must tell you three things now.” Giselle lowered her voice. “Our mutual friend’s agent did not appear to me the other night.”
“We know,” Gus replied. “Do not despair. We have much to tell you in that regard. And the second problem?”
“My bodyguard has disappeared.”
Amber looked stricken. “And the last problem?”
“I do believe a strange man is following me, and he resembles someone I may have seen in Hastings.”
Chapter Ten
The Ashleys andRamseys had taken a house together north of the Steine. While in Brighton, the four usually stayed at the Old Ship, but this week, perhaps because the weather was so fine, the hotel was filled to capacity.
Many British—despite the threat of the Grand Army across the Channel—had recently come to Brighton to be near the prince regent and his entourage. Many thought it their last chance at a brief holiday on the coast this summer. In Dover, Ramsgate, and other towns and villages along the Channel, residents had already packed up their belongings and headed inland. Fear of an imminent French invasion was rampant. Army troops, such as those stationed at Preston Barracks north of Brighton, and volunteer home guard swamped the towns, adding to the simmering anxiety.
Giselle hurried along the stone walkway to her friends’ rented house. They had insisted she take a hired carriage back to the hotel yesterday—and she had allowed it. However, she had insisted that she walk this morning. The exercise and sunshine added a sparkle to her day. Her dashing marquis was responsible for most of it.
Dinner last night with Carlisle, his sister Terese, and their friend Lord Langley had been an experience she’d not enjoyed in many years. The three of them were not only comfortable in each other’s company but downright friendly. They seemed to have no conflicts with eachother, merely differences of opinion. About those, they did not argue. Acceptance was the rule of the day. The two hours Giselle had spent with them reminded her of her parents’ easy relationship. That was what those two had taught by example to their three children. Giselle had not known such tranquility in her own marriage. That union had been a battleground in the salon—and in bed.
The refreshing quality of dinner had been one she told Carlisle about as he stood at her door when they’d parted for the night. “I must thank you for a very pleasant evening. I have not had such a delightful experience since my parents died.”
“It was but a simple dinner.”
“Not to me,” she’d whispered, and, on impulse, rose on her toes and kissed his cheek.
The lightning response in his silver eyes had remained as he invited her to call him by his given name. Risky as it was to accept such largesse, she had agreed with a twinkle in her eye. “My kiss invited that.”
“Invite me to do more, my dear. I will not fail you.”
She had believed him. He was the first man who had ever been so forward and so sweet about his regard for her. She had left him, but through the night she dreamt of walking in sylvan glades full of flowers in the sun.
Her golden memory of her dreams brought her smiling to the door of her friends.
“Good morning,” the hired butler bade her, taking her gloves and pelisse. “The Ashleys and Ramseys await you upstairs. Please follow me.”
Gus and Amber rushed to embrace her while their husbands politely kissed her cheek.
Lord Ashley, whom Giselle had come to know over years of friendship by his given name of Kane, had led Scarlett Hawthorne’s mission to France soon after the Treaty of Amiens was signed in 1802.His responsibility there had been to enlarge the circle of espionage agents throughout the Continent while continuing to perform diplomatic and financial duties as cover for his actions. Here in Britain, he kept up his network with his wife, Gus. Their contacts here and on the Continent continued to be crucial to information about Bonaparte’s regime. Giselle had benefited from those in the circle, including Corsini, Kane’s former majordomo, and their contact and smuggler, Jacques Durand, who had sailed her across treacherous waters to safety in Britain.
“I am delighted to see you again, Giselle.” Ashley was a tall, debonair man, dark of hair, jovial, a true diplomat by nature.
“You look well, Giselle. I am glad,” said Kane’s friend, Amber’s husband. Godfrey DuClare, Lord Ramsey, was a different sort of fellow. Commanding in his presence, with a swarthy eminence to him, he was quick to act, quick to smile, focused always on the prize. Today, that was information.
Giselle had it for all of them.
