AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She swung open the door of the clothespress and stepped closer. Just as she had been told, the jewelry box sat on one of the shelves, beside a pile of white underthings. Gabrielle reached out and lifted the box’s lid.
It opened easily and silently, revealing a treasure of rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds. The Duke of Beaumont had been generous to his duchess. But Gabrielle’s eyes scanned the gems quickly, ignoring them, seeing the drawing of Cleopatra’s necklace in her mind. It was a rough piece by current standards, with large rectangles of gold circling the neck, interspersed with beads of lapis lazuli and set off by a large lapis lazuli oval that would have rested in the cleft at the base of Cleopatra’s throat. The pure blue of the mineral in the centerpiece was said to be remarkable.
The necklace was not on the box’s top shelf, as she had been told it would be, but she did not allow the thought of failure to enter her mind. Instead, she lifted a few of the bulkier pieces and searched beneath them. When the necklace was still not to be found, she closed the lid and pulled open the top drawer. More gems glittered, as well as the opalescence of cameos and a collection of iridescent pearls. But no lapis lazuli.
She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her back as she slid the drawer closed and opened the bottom one. She already knew she would not find it.
“Disappointing, isn’t it?” a deep voice murmured beside her.
Gabrielle’s heart jumped, her nerves following, but by sheer force of will, she stilled her body. Blowing out a slow, measured breath, she turned ever so slowly toward the sound of the voice and saw only the door of the clothespress. As she watched—heart pounding so hard she feared it would burst—the door creaked closed, revealing a man on the other side.
“You,” she whispered.
“Ah, Lady McCullough, you haven’t forgotten me then.” He cocked a brow in a gesture she had at one time found charming but now only served to irritate her. Her heart still pounded, beating in anger, not fear.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, stepping back. She could smell him, that sweet scent of bergamot she associated only with him. She needed space to breathe, to think, to plan.
“I might ask you the same question, my lady.”
She smiled stiffly. “Why, I’m fetching a piece of jewelry at Her Grace’s request.” She blinked innocently. “I’m certain that must be obvious.”
He nodded at the hairpin, still clutched between her fingers. “And she mistakenly forgot to give you the key.”
“Exactly.”
He stepped closer, and she forced herself to breathe normally. She would not inhale his dizzying scent. She would not allow him to affect her.
“Do you know what I think?”
Her traitorous gaze dipped to his lips—full, soft lips with a hint of dark, rugged stubble around them. Her breath caught, and she forced her gaze back up again. But looking into his eyes—eyes she knew were as green as the emeralds in the jewelry box beside her—did not have the desired effect, and she found herself digging her nails into her palm.Blink, Gabrielle.
“I think,” he continued, his lips so close she could feel his sweet breath on her cheek, “you are a thief.”
To her credit, her gaze did not waver, held his. “What does that make you?”
He shrugged. “A lover.” He backed up, catlike, toward the bed. “I’m waiting for Her Grace. A secret rendezvous.” In one quick gesture, he was lounging on the bed, reclining as sleekly as a black jaguar.
As dangerous too, she knew. The necklace was not here. The duchess was not wearing it, which meant, either Ramsey, Lord Sedgwick, now reclining with deceptive innocence on the bed had taken it—or someone else had beat her to it.
She gazed at Sedgwick again, eyes narrowed. Lover? She doubted it. The fifty-year-old duchess and mother of five was not Sedgwick’s usual fare. He was here for the necklace. That was the only explanation. Now…how to get it from him?
“How romantic,” she drawled, stepping forward and closing the clothespress door behind her. Time ticked away. She needed that necklace. “Funny that the duchess should send me to fetch a trinket when she knew you waited for her.”
He raised a brow, and she could see a thousand wicked thoughts play on his face. Men. They were so easy to read, so predictable. She stepped closer, and his gaze perused the low-cut bodice of her gown. The rounded style afforded a tantalizing view of the swell of her breasts.
“Perhaps she sent you in her place.” He patted the empty spot on the bed beside him, the invitation in his eyes clear. But behind that invitation, she saw calculation and smugness. He thought he was winning. He thought she would flee, leaving him to walk away with the necklace.
He did not know her nearly as well as he thought.
She reached the bed, leaned over, and stroked a hand down his cheek. The rough texture left her fingertips tingling enticingly. She ignored the feeling, instead concentrating on where he might be hiding the necklace. His coat? His breeches? Both were scandalously snug…
At this angle, she knew he had a distracting view of her bosom, but his eyes never left her face. She smiled seductively, leaned down farther, and pressed her lips to his.
It was easier than she thought it would be. No jolt of heat, no memory of what had passed between them all those years ago, rushed back at her. This was simply a new direction in her plan. She would kiss him, run her fingers along his body, distract him, until she located the necklace. She was an excellent pickpocket. It would take little to extract the necklace—then extract herself.
But just as she reached out to begin her exploration, his mouth slaked over hers and his arms came around her. Before she could protest, she was on the bed, on her back, and he bent over her, kissing her hungrily.
Oh no.
