Chapter Ten
Slowly Diana woke through a cloud of comfort and pleasure. She was warm and safe, and as she cuddled into the blankets she felt strong arms fold tighter against her. This was heaven, there was nothing else to it, and she didn’t want to wake up from it.
Except she did. Reality crept in at last, and she opened her eyes to find hazy sunlight filtering into the room behind the curtains. She was on her side, facing Lucas. His arms were around her, but he was still sleeping.
In this rare moment, she drank in the sight of him. He was truly beautiful, and never more so than when he was relaxed like this. It made him look younger, less jaded by the world, less affected by pain.
But she wasn’t fooled by the look. Yesterday he had used passion against her. They’d been talking, she had requested he share a little about the life he’d once led, and he had cut her off by bedding her.
She’d let him because his touch was too perfect not to surrender to. She wanted it, she wanted him. So she’d taken him, over and over, until night came, until sleep came.
But she couldn’t ignore that he was perfectly willing to turn the desires of her wanton body against her.
Was that for the best? Well, that was another question entirely. Sharing secrets with him was dangerous. It led to a sense of closeness, which was false, a trap. If her walls came down, that could be devastating, especially considering the anniversary that would soon approach. A week more and she would be fighting to keep herself distant from him so he wouldn’t see her weakness and her heartbreak.
Perhaps she needed to start practicing that distance now.
She rolled away slowly and pushed at the covers, moving to extract herself from his arms, but he tightened them around her and suddenly she was flush against him. Her back flattened against his broad chest and the hardness of his cock pressed against her as he placed a kiss to the place where her neck and shoulder met.
His voice was deep and sleepy as he murmured, “You told me to rest, Diana. Stay in bed with me today.”
She couldn’t help but smile, even though the pure temptation of those words was dangerous beyond belief. Stay with him for today? It was too easy to begin picturing staying with him forever. In his bed, in his arms, in his life.
“We’ll starve,” she protested, trying not to sigh as he continued to kiss along her skin.
“Worth it,” he breathed.
She shivered, searching for an answer that would free her from the prison she adored. “Stalwood is coming later this morning,” she finally said.
“It’s not later yet,” he argued, and began to flick her nipple with his thumb until she could not find her breath.
But she did find her resolve. She pushed against him. “Lucas, honestly, we don’t have time.”
He released her immediately, and she stumbled from the bed and searched the floor for the robe she had discarded late last night when she went on a search for food after the third time he made love to her.
When she was covered and somewhat calm, she turned back to him. He was staring at her, his gaze hooded and analyzing and judging. Like he could see through her if he focused hard enough. In truth, she feared he could.
“Come, I’ll assist you as you ready yourself for the day,” she said, turning to efficiency to cloak her deeper emotions. “Let me look at that wound and then I’ll help you dress.”
For a moment she thought he might refuse. Confront. Seduce her back to his arms, and then she would tell him everything she’d spent a lifetime keeping secret. He would have all of her and when he left he’d take it all with him.
But he didn’t. His face was still unreadable as he drew out of the bed and inclined his head. “As you wish, Diana. Whatever you’d like.”
She motioned him to the chair by the fire so she could check his wound, but this acquiescence felt nothing like a victory. It felt like a move in a chess game.
And it was one she didn’t think she was winning.
All morning Lucas had felt the distance Diana put between them. It was evident in the cool way she assisted him. In the way she avoided conversation beyond polite questions and answers. The way she put him in the parlor for his breakfast, rather than in their…his bedroom or the kitchen, where they sometimes broke bread together.
She’d even refused his offer of help when she got ready. There had been no playfulness to it, nor seductive teasing. She had just left him alone and not returned for nearly an hour.
He had no idea what had set off the change in her. They’d made love for hours the night before and it had been magical. And yet today…
Well, today she was building walls. Walls that were for the best, of course. He knew full well they were getting too close, and yet he felt a desperate desire to claw those walls down, to gather her against him and demand that she give him more. Give him everything.
Utterly unfair.
She entered the parlor where she had put him some time ago. A tea service was balanced in her arms. While he watched, she set it on the sideboard and quietly went about arranging it.
“Stalwood will be here momentarily,” she said without looking at him. “I know you two have much to discuss, so I’ll leave you alone once you are situated with drinks.”
He arched a brow and moved toward her a step. When she stiffened, as if she had sensed his intentions, he stopped and stared at her. “What is this game, Diana?” he asked softly.
She jerked her gaze to his. “Game?”
“You are not a servant to me nor to him, yet you are playing at it. What is going on? Have I done something wrong?”
He found himself holding his breath at the answer, waiting for her to reveal some way for him to scale this wall between them. But she merely smiled at him, an expression that was utterly false, and shook her head. “Of course not. Everything is fine.”
“Don’t sport with my intelligence, Diana,” he said, his tone a bit harsher than he wanted it to be. “I don’t appreciate it.”
Her lips parted and then she swallowed hard. He saw her fighting within herself, trying to find the words to say whatever had spooked her. He leaned forward, desperate to hear them, but then there was a knock at her front door.
She looked relieved. The expression lasted just a flash of a moment, but he saw it. He recognized it. It hit him in the gut like a punch.
“Excuse me,” she said, not meeting his eyes as she scurried from the room. He shook his head as he listened to her open the door, greet the earl, then guide him back to the parlor.
“Lord Stalwood,” she announced, once again like she was Lucas’s maid rather than his lover. His—his friend, for that was how he had begun to think of her in the time they’d been together.
He didn’t want to lose that.
“Great God, but you do look better,” Stalwood said as he came into the room, hand outstretched.
Lucas still chose to shake with his good arm, but felt more strength in even that. “Diana has worked wonders,” he said, looking past Stalwood to her. She was still not meeting his gaze.
“I should send all my injured to you, my dear,” Stalwood said with a brief smile for her.
She stiffened at the suggestion and some of the color went out of her cheeks. “I-I would not dare to take my father’s place, my lord. Now I will leave you two to your discussion.”
She said nothing more, but pivoted on her heel and all but fled the room. Stalwood stared after her and then looked at Lucas. “I did not mean to offend her,” he said. “I did not think that she would take it that I was trying to replace her father.”
Lucas motioned him to the settee and moved to pour the tea himself. “It isn’t you who offended her. I seem to have done that all on my own.”
Stalwood arched a brow. “Have you now? How?”
He shook his head. “I am not entirely certain. We were getting along fine and then—” He cut himself off and shrugged, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. “She is a riddle.”
Stalwood was staring at him with even more focus now. “I’ve known her since she was a girl, you know. Oakford worked with me and for me for years.”
Lucas straightened with true interest. “And what kind of child was she?”
Stalwood hesitated and then said, “Bright. Quick to laugh. But with a vein of sadness that ran through her. She missed her mother, I think.”
“And now her father.” Guilt washed over Lucas as he said it.
“Yes. She is…she’s more fragile than perhaps she looks.”
Lucas considered that statement. It didn’t ring true. Fragile was not the word for Diana, for she had a core of steel that ran through her. Fragile meant weak in some way, and she was not that.
“Vulnerable,” he suggested. “She is vulnerable beneath that façade of confidence and strength. Perhaps I…I did not honor that.”
“Do I need to intervene?” Stalwood said softly. “Remove you from her care?”
Lucas’s stomach tensed at the very idea that he would be separated from her at this juncture. He pushed back at the feeling. That was silly. He was confused by her behavior and that turned everything upside down. He only wanted to be well and she was helping with that. There was no other reason not to want to walk away.
“I think she could still do me good,” he said. “Ten days with her and I am already feeling closer to whole again.”
Stalwood leaned back in his chair. “Just have a care.”
Lucas ignored the warning and handed over his superior’s tea before he took a place in a chair across from him. “I’ve been looking over the case files.”
Not as much as he wanted to, of course. Diana had been a distraction, but he’d taken the time where he could find it. The thrill of the hunt had returned immediately.
Stalwood leaned forward, his eyes lit up with interest. “And?”
“I have some questions and some observations,” he said. “First, did…did George Oakford ever get assigned cases?”
Stalwood blinked and the confusion on his face answered the question even before he stammered, “Oakford? He was a surgeon—why in the world would I put him on a case?”
Lucas drew a sharp breath. “So I thought.”
“Why would you ask about that?”
“Diana said something about her father having a visitor. She believed the man to be a spy and she thought they were working on a case together.” He said no more about her confession. That was a line he would not cross.
“No,” Stalwood said. “I never assigned him a case. Of course, he put himself in the middle of your mission six months ago, so I cannot say for certain that he hadn’t done the same in the past. But he never confessed as much to me. Could she have been mistaken?”
“I suppose so. After all, it was an impression she had, not something her father actually said to her. Still, it stood out to me. Made me wonder…” He trailed off. He had a nagging feeling in his chest. Something that felt incomplete.
“I can look further into it,” Stalwood suggested. “Check my records. When did she say this occurred?”
“Two years ago,” he said. “I don’t know more specifics and the story was not relayed to me in a fashion that would allow me to press her.”
Stalwood’s gaze narrowed. “Very well. I trust your instincts on that. I’ll investigate further. What else?”
“The more I look at the case file, the more I think that not only was the man on the estate that day our traitor, but that he might not have worked alone.”
Stalwood jerked. “You think I might have more than one bastard in my ranks?”
Lucas nodded. “Perhaps. Though this man’s partner may have been of lesser rank. When he killed Oakford and injured me, probably believing I would also die, it spooked him. That is why it has taken so long for him to return to his wicked ways. But now that he is…”
He stopped himself. He’d been pondering something in the past few days. Now Diana’s change of attitude made him think even more about it.
“What?”
“I’ve been hidden for months, protected so that I could not be found by this person, yes?” he asked.
Stalwood nodded. “I felt you might be in danger. You still likely would be.”
“I agree. But that could be just the way for this man to be drawn out.” Lucas stood and paced the room slowly. “Think of it, Stalwood. Returning to the field in the shape I’m in would be out of the question—I know that, even if I hate to admit it. But there is nothing that says I could not return to some kind of public life.”
“As bait?” Stalwood asked.
Lucas faced him, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. “Bait is one way to put it. Torment is another. Think of this man, feeling he’s in the clear, uncertain what the one potential witness to his crimes is capable of doing. Then I return. He might not be able to resist me.”
Stalwood pressed his lips together. “It’s not a bad idea, really.”
“You sound surprised,” Lucas said with a chuckle. “My good ideas are exactly why you brought me the case files in the first place.”
“Modest, as always,” Stalwood said, his tone dry as dust. But his smile belied any annoyance his tone might have conveyed. “We’d have to tread carefully, though. If it is known you are staying here with Diana—”
Lucas shook his head. “No, I’ve thought of that too. This place is too isolated, too small to be safe if my location is made public. It would be better if I…if I returned to the ducal home here in London. Took up my duties as Willowby.”
Stalwood lifted both eyebrows in surprise, and Lucas couldn’t blame him. He had never had, nor expressed, any interest in the title. Quite the opposite, though no one knew why he had pushed his dukedom and all that went with it so far away. Not his friends, not his colleagues, no one.
“You are driven if you are willing to be Your Graced for a case,” Stalwood said softly.
Lucas lifted his chin. “George Oakford is dead because of me and Diana deserves justice. Answers. So do I. I’m willing to do almost anything for that.”
“Your mother is staying in the London home, you know,” Stalwood said, holding his gaze. “Will she be a problem?”
Lucas tensed. “My mother. I’m certain she’ll be a problem for me, but for you, for the case…no.”
“If you think it for the best, then I approve,” Stalwood said. “I’ll arrange for guards for your estate, ones I trust implicitly. Is there anything else you need?”
Lucas shook his head. “Not at the moment, though if that changes I’ll inform you. I’ll just need to tell Diana and arrange for her to move with me.”
Stalwood’s eyes widened. “You intend to take Diana with you,” he repeated.
“Of course,” Lucas said. “She is helping me greatly with my recovery. But it’s more than that.”
“More.”
Lucas’s lips parted at the knowing tone of Stalwood’s voice. “Yes,” he grunted. “More. Diana will have to come and go if she is not staying with me. She’ll be seen and that could put her in danger if the man who did this to me, to her father, is watching. And we want him to be watching. If she is with me then she’ll be under the care of your guards, as well as me.”
Or course, there was so much more to it than that. He had no intention of saying so to Stalwood. Perhaps he didn’t need to, if his superior’s pinched expression was any indication.
“And how will you explain her?” Stalwood asked. “This beautiful young woman who has come to stay with you unattended?”
Lucas froze. He hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. Here their arrangement had not been public. In his home…well, he knew he was considered a bachelor—a catch, thanks to his fortune and his title. The traitor to their cause would not be the only one watching his home, his every move.
“I’ll talk to her,” he said. “And let her decide how she’d like things presented.”
Stalwood rose. “I agree that is the best way of it. Let me know what you two come up with and if there are any additional things you need. I will speak to you after you are settled.”
“Very good,” Lucas said, and motioned his superior into the foyer. They shook hands and he watched as Stalwood headed out the door and into his waiting carriage.
Now that they had a plan, Lucas’s mind was racing. This wasn’t quite back in the field, but it was working a case, truly working it.
And he couldn’t wait to get back into the thick of things and remember what his life was truly about.
Diana moved about Lucas’s chamber, tidying up. That was all she could think to do while Stalwood and Lucas talked downstairs. She had no place there with them. She had no place with Lucas at all. Yet reminding herself of that was somehow difficult.
“You are being so utterly foolish,” she bit out, letting the words hang in the air around her. She heard them, she knew they were right. They still stung.
With a quiet curse, she yanked a pillowcase from the pillow, tossing it into the basket on the floor beside her. When she did so, a book fell from within the folds of the fabric, bounced off the edge of the bed and clattered to the floor, sending folded sheets of paper sliding across the wooden surface.
She sighed and bent to retrieve the items. “Spies and their secrets,” she muttered, thinking of the pistol she had already carefully set aside when she stripped the other pillow of its cover.
Lucas certainly had enough of those secrets. Things he hid about his past, his life, his vocation. She knew what it was like to live with a man like that. Her father had been much the same. Close-lipped and careful, steering her away from anything that mattered to him. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been angry with her for coming into his study at their country estate and reorganizing some of the items on his desk.
That was their last conversation, for he’d left soon after and never returned.
She winced and turned over yet another paper. She was ready to stuff them all back into the book and put it on the side table for Lucas when she caught a glimpse of her name, written in a shaky hand on one of the sheets.
She frowned and held the paper to her chest. These were Lucas’s private things. No amount of sex or whispered secrets from the past gave her any right to go rifling through them.
But it was her name, on this paper he had placed in a book and then hidden in a pillow. How could she not be curious?
She glanced at the door. Although she could not hear the men talking in the closed parlor below, she had not yet heard Stalwood leave either. Until he did, she was safe to…to…
“Snoop,” she said out loud, completing the sentence in her head.
But as much as she hated the description, and the fact that it was entirely apt, she still lowered the paper and stared at it. This was Lucas’s hand, she would bet her life on it. His injury made it shaky, but there was still a flourish that fit him.
What was on the paper was far more interesting. It appeared to be a long series of notes, bullet-pointed and neatly organized. He was writing about her father’s murder, listing off a long line of facts about the case.
She staggered to the chair before the fire and sank into the cushioned seat. Her heart was pounding, her hands were shaking. She knew a little about that day. Bare skeletons of facts, told to her by Stalwood and Lucas. But this was detailed. This was horribly detailed. Lucas had written down every moment of that day, including exact words that had been said, and the collection of them swam before her eyes as they filled with tears.
“Diana.”
She jolted and jerked her gaze up to find Lucas standing in the doorway. His face was hard, lined with anger and betrayal as he limped to her and snatched the page from her hand.
“What do you think you are doing?”