Mary turned wide-eyes on Gabriel. “Someone’s coming!”
She hastily closed the secret compartment, cringing at the loud click, then pulled at the material of her bodice, exposing a generous swell of her bosom and part of one nipple.
Gabe tossed his coat aside and growled as he fought with the knot in his cravat.
Mary’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. She reached up to tug several pins from her hair, until the chignon was partially undone and half hanging to her shoulders.
The voices were upon them now. Without wasting another moment, Mary flung herself bodily at Gabe, her skirts hiking up to her thighs as she lifted one leg to encircle his hip. She wrapped her arms snugly around his shoulders and gripped Gabriel’s hair in her fists. His arms came around her waist, pulling her tighter against him.
With a deep breath for courage, Mary pressed her lips to his.
Everything disappeared.
It was just Mary and Gabriel, alone. His mouth against hers, his heated, muscular form surged against her soft curves. The tension suddenly left her shoulders and her jaw dropped, allowing him full access to her mouth.
A low, rumbling groan escaped him, pulling a sigh from her in response. His tongue traced her lips, ran along each of her teeth, then entered to tease and toy with her own. She tasted him in turn, her tongue dipping and swirling with his, their mouths dancing in a dangerous, seductive waltz. The taste of fruit, tea, and cloves was an alluring combination on his lips.
An electric thrum pulsed its way through her body, each hair standing on its end, each nerve alert and buzzing with anticipation and heated arousal. She tightened her grip on his hair, her nails scraping gently against his scalp, as she instinctively ground her mons against the hard ridge of his arousal.
Gabe grunted his approval.
Oh good heavens, what a sensation! Need shot through her like a whizzing bullet, both explosive and perfectly targeted to her womanly core.
She needed to do that again.
The door swung open, pulling a cry of genuine alarm from Mary as she pried her lips from Gabe’s. For a moment she stood in shock, not only for the realization of what she felt within the circle of Gabriel’s arms, but because kissing him had so distracted her from their purpose.
“My, my, what have we here?” Lord Hale’s black eyes took in their dishevelled appearance, his expression alive with dark mirth.
Mary’s leg fell, her foot returning to the ground as she quickly righted her bodice.
“What the devil are you doing in my study?” Lord Kerr was decidedly less amused. In fact, his expression betrayed nary a hint of his true feelings.
“I think what they’re doing is quite evident, Kerr, think you not?” Lord Hale sniffed, rubbing a finger along the side of his nose. “What say you share, eh Spencer?”
That snapped Gabe from whatever had him frozen in place. He stepped back from Mary, but kept an arm securely around her waist. “My apologies, my lords.” He looked down at Mary with warm fondness in his eyes. “We happened to be walking by when I was overcome with a fit of passion for Miss White.” He returned his attention to the two lords. “I found the nearest vacant room, not taking notice of which it was, and secreted her inside.” He picked up his coat, draped it over one arm, then brought his arm around her once more.
“’Tis a shame we did not arrive later, eh? Wouldn’t that have been a sight to see?” Lord Hale laughed jovially, and Gabe joined in, but Mary could feel the tension coiling within him. “Go on with you now, rest before luncheon.”
With Hale’s laughter ringing in their ears, and Lord Kerr’s disapproving gaze following them, Mary and Gabe quit the room. They hastily made their way from his lordship’s study and back to their bedchamber abovestairs.
Mary’s heart thundered in her chest, shock rippling through her as the events of the past two minutes caught up to her. She hardly knew how to comport herself or what to think.
Gabe swung their guest bedchamber door closed behind them, the snick of the lock echoing through the grand room. Mary’s heart thudded faster.
What just happened? She had kissed and touched him before, so why was this so different? So…so…electrifying? She was uncertain as to what made this so alluring, but of one thing she was certain. She wanted to do it again.
She turned to speak with Gabe about the possibility of giving it a try, but one look at his expression halted her. He was unmoved. Unaffected. He went about his ablutions as though nothing had happened, his movements brisk and precise. But surely he had felt something?
Ah yes, of course. He did not like her. He thought her a whore. How could she have forgotten?
Her heart sank in her chest. She was foolish to think that whatever act they perform at this house party could seep into real life. Gabriel would never be with her, and she did not want him to be. She straightened her shoulders and swallowed past the sudden emotion in her throat. This was purely a physical attraction that would pass. Mary could find another bloke after this assignment was complete and give it a go with him.
It was time to move on. Stop dwelling on her past friendship with Gabriel, her heartbreak…and their kisses. Yes, their kiss had been pleasurable for her, but it was not to be repeated after their assignment. She had best remember that.
Mary strode to their shared wardrobe and spotted the costume that had been hung carefully on an outer hook. A smile touched her lips. It would seem that Eleanor had chosen Mary’s costume for this evening’s performance. My, but she was efficient. Mary fingered the sheer material. She had done these performances for myriad traitorous men and gleaned countless secrets from each, but never had she danced for so large a group, with not only men but women, as well. And Gabe.
Tamping down on the nerves that fluttered in her stomach, Mary removed the costume from the outer hook of the wardrobe and placed it inside among her gowns.
Should she change for luncheon or wait until the evening meal? She was uncertain. She turned her gaze down to what she wore; it was not terribly rumpled. As a woman of modest means, Mary often wore the same dress throughout the day, excepting her costumes. She was knowledgeable on many of the traditions of the gentry, but entirely uncertain on how frequently ladies changed.
She sighed, closing the wardrobe doors. The same gown should be acceptable for luncheon. She was playing an actress, after all, hardly one that would be held to high society’s standards.
Moving to sit at her dressing table, the mirror showing her the true, sad state of her hair. Oh dear. Poor Eleanor had gone to such trouble to put it up, only for Mary to take it down. She began removing the pins, one by one.
* * *
Gabe scrubbed the soap against the wet rag until it formed a foamy lather. Damn Mary and her alluring scent. He scrubbed the soapy cloth over his neck and face. He must get the smell of her off of him and out of his nose or he would be walking around with a cockstand in his breeches for the remainder of the day. That smell…
Damn. He scrubbed harder, the rough cloth abrading his skin with each stroke.
Mary was trouble. She did something to him that no other woman had. She made him feel… Well, she made him feel. She clearly did not reciprocate his amorous feelings, for theirs was a business association, as she had reminded him.
He dropped the washcloth beside the washbasin and scooped some water into his hands. The cool water was refreshing on his face and neck as he sloshed it onto his skin. Without straightening, Gabe reached for a nearby towel to wipe at the droplets.
But that kiss… He sighed into the towel, his breath warming the coarse, damp material. Even the memory of it was enough to excite him all over again. Mary was skilled, that was for certain. For those moments before Lords Kerr and Hale entered, Gabe had entirely forgotten his purpose. Forgotten where they were. Forgotten himself.
Yes, Mary was indeed dangerous. He could see, now, how Mary was able to gain such vital information from traitors to the Crown. She had the ability to take a man out of himself, to want to get more from her at any cost, to do whatever it took to have her. With any leading question, Mary would certainly be able to learn whatever she wished. Hell, it likely took no question at all, for if what Gabe felt while she was in his arms was any indication, men would simply volunteer information purely for having her a moment longer.
He shook his head, agitatedly tossing the towel beside the washbasin. Those feelings weren’t real, Gabe old boy, simply a product of this assignment and Mary’s considerable talents. Best he focus on their plans.
“We need to open that strongbox,” Gabe said, turning toward Mary where she sat fixing her hair.
She placed a small hairpin between her lips as she pushed another into the knot she had created at the base of her neck. “When do you propose we do that?” she asked around the hairpin. “If Lord Kerr discovers us in his study once more, he will most assuredly be suspicious.”
“We will return this evening after everyone has retired to their beds.”
Mary nodded and put the remaining pin in her hair, gazing at his reflection in the mirror. “It will have to be very late. I expect the gentlemen will wish to play cards or drink after my performance.”
Gabe’s jaw clenched. He had forgotten about the performance. Briefly. “Very well, then.”
A wide smile graced her lips as she spun on her seat to face him. “Excellent. I shall bring the hairpins and you bring your lock-picking skill. Now. What shall we do once we’ve opened the strongbox? Surely we cannot simply remove the documents—if they are indeed within—without anyone noticing. We are the odd couple out, they will likely guess correctly that we removed them.”
“Damn.”
“We have several options.” Mary tapped her chin. “But the only plausible course of action would be to switch the documents with forgeries and make our escape before anyone notices the exchange.”
Gabe felt like rolling his eyes, but resisted the urge. “You’re right, Mary, that is an excellent course of action, but as sound as that plan is, where in God’s name do you suppose we could find a forger while at a house party in Eastbourne?” Mary opened her mouth, but Gabe shook his head, halting her speech. “No, we must think of something else.” He began to pace.
“If I might point out—I have some experience with forging.”
Gabe stopped his pacing to gaze at Mary, startled. “I beg your pardon?”
“I know how to create forgeries. Granted, I am not as skilled as someone more experienced than I, but while at the school, Samuels taught me about forging and cryptology, among other things.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I chose to focus my attentions on infiltration and the acquisition of information over the other skills, but I still have knowledge on the base skill. All I need is to know what the documents look like.”
Gabe was dumbfounded. Mary knew how to forge documents? Why had he not been given the opportunity to learn from Samuels?
“Once I manage to replicate the documents with planted false information, however, we will have to take our leave immediately upon making the switch.”
He nodded. “Yes. Yes, this could work.” A smile began to grow upon his lips as optimism blossomed in his chest. He could have Mary out of this den of wolves by the morrow! “It would appear that we have ourselves a course of action. Now, we simply wait until this evening to set it into motion.”
* * *
The hot, soapy water lapped at Mary’s neck as she sank deeper into her bath later that evening. Her hair was piled high in an unruly knot atop her head to ensure that it did not reach the water, though several rebellious auburn strands still managed. The room was dim, the flickering light of the fire wavering against the ceiling, and the steam from the rose-scented water filled the air. Having already completed her wash, Mary was now simply enjoying the warmth of the water. She closed her eyes.
Her performance would begin in just under two hours, which gave her plenty of time to bathe and prepare. Her costume, while voluminous in layers, was rather simple to put on.
Nerves assailed her stomach as she recalled the size of her audience this evening. She inhaled deeply and released it in a slow, measured breath, the fluttering in her stomach abating slightly. She was an actress, for heaven’s sake, she had acted for hundreds at a time. Performing one of her “private” routines for a handful of high society ladies and gentlemen, with mistresses and paramours abound, should not shake her confidence.
But it did.
While doing a performance fell in perfectly with their plans, Mary’s dances were designed for an audience of one.
With a shake of her head, she forced her mind from the subject and focused on her bath. Just after they had concluded supper, a group of footmen had placed the copper bathing tub behind the privacy screen in the corner of their guest bedchamber, then group after group of footmen in their sunshine yellow livery had brought in pails of steaming water to fill it. Mary fancied they held a likeness to a flock of pretty golden birds.
Gabriel remained belowstairs with the others while they lounged about playing cards or submerged themselves in sin while waiting for the performance.
Once—if—Gabe and Mary completed one aspect of their assignment this evening by finding and removing the documents from the traitors, then they would have to take their leave and return to London. And as much as Mary wished to leave this house of traitors, it would also mean that Gabriel and Mary must go their separate ways once more. Of course, the assignment would not yet be complete, as they would still not know the identity of each traitor, but Mary doubted that Hydra would keep both Gabe and Mary involved with the case. It was too dangerous to their own identities.
Which would mean that this was the end of Miss Mary White and Mr. Anthony Spencer.
Sadness touched her heart and she reached her hands up through the water to place them upon her chest. Such a foolish girl. Stop this nonsense.
The click of her bedchamber door opening caused her to jump, the water splashing on the floor around her.
“Hello? Who is there?” Mary concealed her breasts with one arm, crossed her legs, and covered the juncture of her thighs with her other hand in one awkward motion.
“It is I, Lady Kerr.” The swishing of satin skirts and soft footfalls could be heard from beyond the privacy screen.
How rude of her to enter without first seeking permission to do so. “What may I do for you, my lady?”
“I just came for a little visit, dearie,” Lady Kerr drawled.
“I am engaged at present, but if you would return in a quarter of an hour, I would be most happy to receive you.”
“No.”
The lady herself appeared from behind the screen and, to her shame, Mary squeaked.
“My lady!”
Lady Kerr turned her shrewd gaze on Mary. “Do not become prudish now, Miss White, we all know you are not pure.”
Granted, Mary was playing the part of the experienced Miss White, but that did not give Lady Kerr the authority to enter unannounced. Yes, Miss White was supposed to be used to others seeing her nude, but Miss Wright was not. Never had anyone seen her fully nude, but for her Mama when she was an infant.
Lady Kerr was crossing the lines of propriety and she knew it.
“I have come to speak with you.”
No, you have come to catch me unguarded and at a disadvantage. If the woman meant to attack and believed Mary to be unprepared, she would discover herself to be sadly mistaken. Mary was highly trained in self-defence, as Hydra ensured all female operatives were thoroughly taught in the art of hand-to-hand resistance and incapacitation.
“I await with bated breath, Lady Kerr.”
The woman’s black eyes narrowed briefly before she masked her displeasure. “You appear to be very admired by the gentlemen in residence.”
Mary did not respond, for it would serve no purpose. Lady Kerr had a reason behind intruding on her bath, rendering Mary unable to stand, and Mary was determined to learn what that was.
“In fact,” Lady Kerr continued, “you seem to be admired by gentlemen everywhere. Quite de rigueur.”
Mary forced her spine to ease. “La! Me, de rigueur? Men admire women of all forms, my lady. I am but one of many.”
“Why did you come to this house party, Miss White?”
Ah, a pointed question, then. Mary feigned being taken aback. “I was invited, your ladyship.”
Her bath water had begun to cool, the lower temperature sending goose flesh over her skin.
“And your guest? Mr. Spencer?”
Miss White would be contrite. “My apologies, my lady, was I not supposed to bring him? He would not have been pleased if I had come on my own.”
“Why did he choose you?”
Mary laughed, easily slipping from one reaction to the next, her character firmly in place. “La! Whatever attracts a man to a woman? Desire, I suppose.” She winked.
Lady Kerr stepped closer to the brass tub, her gaze darkening ominously. “Are you a spy?”
Mary thought quickly. She widened her eyes and dropped her jaw in apparent shock. The tingling warning of danger travelled up her spine, and apprehension filled her heart. “A spy! I promise you, my lady, I would never divulge your delightful décor ideas to another’s household. Or perhaps you dread my telling others of your cook’s delicious desserts?” She contrived a convincing expression of honest concern. “Truly, I do not have many acquaintances among the women of the gentry. I would never reveal your household secrets. I swear it!”
A dangerous smile began to form on the lady’s lips. “I see I was mistaken. My apologies for interrupting your bath, Miss White.”
She turned on her slippered toes and left the room, the door clicking shut behind her. Mary’s eyes narrowed. The lady had tried startling a confession out of Mary, but Mary was not easily rattled. Astonished, yes, at the woman’s daringly direct question, but certainly not rattled. In fact, she now felt more determined than ever to uncover the traitors among these guests, and to investigate Lady Kerr in particular. The woman was a traitorous villain, and Mary would find proof, not only for the sake of King and Country, but to prove to Gabriel that she was as capable an agent as any man.
She rose from the bath and hastily dried herself, then pulled the costume from where it hung in the wardrobe and draped it across the foot of the bed. Mary slipped the scanty purple drawers up her legs; though they should hardly be considered drawers, and scanty was a word not strong enough to describe the small patch of fabric with thin, corded rope holding the material together. Mrs. McPhee must have designed them as a way to cover her most private area without requiring a large bolt of material wrapped around her hips, but the revealing nature of them was shocking, even to Mary.
She gazed at her reflection in the looking glass. Indeed, it perfectly hid the pertinent parts. Although the edges of her derrière poked out from beneath the material over her bottom, the fit was superb.
Her bodice—if one could call it that; “Modesty patches” was a better description—was simply two round patches of the same purple cotton, just enough to cover the circular dials of her nipples, held together with material that had been woven into a thin rope to wrap twice around her ribcage and knot in the front. It was scarcely enough fabric to keep her from being entirely nude, but for her purposes and the sake of their assignment, Mary would wear the revealing costume.
Mrs. McPhee had outdone herself with the detail. Mary scarcely knew how she had accomplished such a feat with only a fortnight to work.
Reaching for the first and second of five silver chains, Mary fastened them around her hips, hundreds of small coins jingling and clinking as she did and gasped at the coldness of the metal as it touched her warm skin.
The third chain was fastened just under her breasts, as it was meant to dangle just below the layers of bodice that she was to wear. Next, she donned layer after layer of sheer royal purple skirts. The thin, transparent skirts were meant to come off one layer at a time as she danced, slowly revealing her body beneath, until only one thin skirt remained.
She smiled at her reflection. Once she had completed dressing, had done her hair, and had darkened her eyes with charcoal, her costume would have the precise impact for which she had aimed. Bravura.