Page 37 of Tempting the Marquess

Chapter7

Nursinghis third glass of brandy, William stared at the flames dancing in his library fireplace. The pleasantly mild spring weather made a fire rather redundant, but the light and warmth were soothing, and the crackling and hissing far better than silence.

Most of the time silence didn’t bother him at all. He liked it. Felt renewed by it. But sometimes it closed in on him, and even in this enormous townhouse surrounded by servants and activity, it could be smothering.

Tonight was one of those times. He shouldn’t feel such unease over a mission, especially when in this case deception was the right and best thing to do. One mission, two positive outcomes: Robert rescued, and Samantha no longer put at risk through their association. But the sight of her pale face, the concern he’d heard in her tone…the temptation to provide more detail had been strong. He’d had to remove himself from the situation so he didn’t make any more mistakes. Although it had taken a concerted effort not to turn around, hoist Samantha over his shoulder, and remove her permanently from the threat her father posed with his treasonous games.

“Ahem,” coughed Jensen, peering around the doorframe, a look of pursed-lipped disapproval on hisface.

“Yes?”

“You have a visitor, mylord.”

William frowned. “I’m not expecting anyone. I take it I know whoever it is, otherwise you wouldn’t have admitted them…for God’s sake, Jensen, you look like you’ve been sucking on lemons. Is it someone wanting aloan?”

“No, my lord. And do hurry. Your caller is not dressed for visiting.”

Raising an eyebrow at the odd reply, William straightened his cravat and followed his butler from the room and down the hallway. Whoever it was would just have to accept him sans jacket and waistcoat, and with shirtsleeves rolled up. It was late. Although if they weren’t dressed for visiting, they could hardly complain about his attire.

Jensen scooted away to the kitchens, his shoulders rigid. In the vast marble foyer, William found a cloaked figure crouched in front a half-sized statue of Minerva. Too small to be a man, but not slight. Curved. Rounded backside.

His heart began to thump. Surely it couldn’tbe…

William cleared his throat. “Minerva is one of my favorites too. Always thought it was a good thing, keeping the warrior goddess of wisdom and protection closeby.”

The woman shuddered and pushed the hood off her head, allowing golden curls to tumble down her back. “Rather important in your line of work, I would think.”

He rocked on his heels. Suspecting it was Samantha didn’t lessen the impact of seeing her. And it was no wonder Jensen the fusspot had fled. His unexpected late night guest appeared to be wearing a cloak and slippers and not muchelse.

Christ.

“What are you doing here, Samantha?” he said carefully, as rampant curiosity and disbelief at the fact she was here in his home was well overtaken by far more rampant lust. She might admire Minerva, but had the figure of Venus.

Trembling, she linked her fingers together and looked back at the floor. He walked over and took her hands in his, chafing at them when he realized she was chilled to thebone.

“Samantha?”

“After you left, I sat in my room for hours. I didn’t have supper because I couldn’t eat a bite. Then I couldn’t sleep thinking about what you said. I want to...I need to know about your mission. I couldn’t bear it if something bad happened and I neverknew.”

“I can’t tellyou.”

“Please, William,” she whispered, her eyes glistening with tears. “I’m sick with worry already.”

He sighed. Giving her any kind of detail went against everything he’d ever been taught by White. And yet, having someone who cared, and not in a maternal or brotherlyway…

Perhaps you could give her a little information. Just a little, to ease hermind.

“Very well,” he replied slowly. “Southby’s younger brother, Colonel Lord Robert Langley, was injured in a skirmish with French soldiers. Our mission is to go to Paris, bundle him up, and bring him back to England. That’s all. No fighting or storming of castles, I swear.”

Samantha tensed, suspicion at his bland reply clear on her expressive face. “But why must you go? Surely the government has many men who could undertake such a mission.”

He gritted his teeth. “Because I can speak French with any regional nuance needed. I am trusted implicitly by the Home Office to carry out delicate negotiations, and can send and receive missives in code. And Robert is a friend of mine. It is in my power to help, so Iwill.”

“I know you would,” Samantha replied, her gaze fixed on him. “It just sounds like a plan where things could go horribly wrong at any time. Not because of you, but because of what is going on over in Paris. Men signing up for the army by the thousands, and the Bourbons fleeing.”

“That is true. I admit, there is a small element of danger. But to save a man from the pain of losing a brother…you remember how it was for Stephen when Gregorydied.”

She flinched. “Yes. I was so far away, and couldn’t do anything. They wouldn’t let me return. I could only write letters.”