Page 75 of Lord Carlisle's Enticing Lure
“La Mère must have taken it with her.”
Clive stared at her.
She hugged him to her. “When she heard the fighting behind the cottage and saw that her gang was being beaten, she decided to run. If she could not have me, she’d take what she could. That sketchpad could fit in her pockets. If it was not among the other works, it seems to me that her taking it is the only viable explanation.”
He stared at her for the longest minute. “You are right.”
“Of course I am.”
He let out a laugh. “Whatever she sought to do with it—discredit you with Vaillancourt or take it to Boulogne—she has it. This means your mission was a success. In so many ways.”
She beamed. “It was.” Then she kissed him, and he held her in his arms for ever so long.
“Now it is time for you to marry me, madame. Allow me amoment to satisfy my valet with his careful tying of my cravat.”
She backed away, swishing her silken skirts and teasing him like a coquette. “George,” she said to the young servant, her gaze still on her fiancé, “don’t bother making it too complicated. I’m only going to remove it soon anyway.”
Clive burst into a loud chuckle. “Get out of here, madame, or you won’t be getting married anytime soon!”
She waggled her fingers at him, then blew a kiss. “Hurry!”
*
The guests whosmiled upon Giselle as she stood on the threshold of the grand salon were a handsome array of friends and acquaintances. They filled the lovely room with such happy faces. The Ashleys, Ramseys, Langleys, Lord Halsey, and Scarlett Hawthorne and her chief clerk, Todd Carlton, were among the number. The blending of the government’s and Hawthorne’s intelligence agents was allowed by the success of other recent, smaller missions.
They had no confirmation that Giselle’s sketches had made it into La Mère’s greedy hands. They did not expect any, frankly. If they’d landed in others’ hands, they had no knowledge of that either. But yesterday, Clive had had a visit from one of his informants in Hastings. He told of a well-dressed woman of La Mère’s description who had hired a smuggler’s sloop there, heading for a French port of call. The fate of that woman’s counterpart, Faucon, was unknown.
Giselle crossed to Carlisle smiling, accepting that she had done her very best.
Down the aisle, Bella ran toward Giselle. Her little legs pumped so quickly that she tripped in her new shoes. But she rushed into Giselle’s arms and threw them around her neck. “You’ll be my mama.”
“I will indeed, my sweetheart.”
Hugging the child close, Giselle looked straight ahead to meetClive’s bright gaze.
“Take my flowers,” she whispered to Terese.
Then she took the short walk toward the man she adored, his daughter in her embrace.
When she faced him, she had trouble controlling the tears that sprang to her eyes. She swallowed, fighting her delight at what they were about to give to each other.
The vicar began the ceremony, and at the point where Clive was to give her his ring, she handed Bella to her aunt.
“With this ring, I thee treasure,” Clive said, so low and sultry that she was sure the words were hers alone forevermore.
She repeated the same words as she slid on his fourth finger a gold band she’d had a Richmond jeweler craft for her a few days ago.
“You are mine,” Clive said with triumph as he offered his arm and they received the applause and shouted congratulations of their guests.
He walked her through the crowd and led them all to the dining room. There, all the chairs pushed to the wall, the table was laden with every delicacy Clive and she had listed for the cook.
When Clive saw one platter piled high with frilly pastries filled with cream, he stopped to raise a brow at her.
“You made these.”
“I did. I want your life filled with all the sweetness I can give.”
His gaze widened in silver strikes of lightning. He caught her up, one arm around her waist, and bent her backward with a ravishing kiss.
