The Duke's Defiant Bride (Brides of Mayfair Book 4) Page 13

  Chapter 18

  Juliet looked about the opulent bedchamber, known as the Italian room, and marveled at the country scenes painted on the walls. If she did not know better, she’d think she was standing on a hillside outside of Rome, rather than in the Duke of Hawksmoor’s luxurious Hanover Square mansion. This massive aristocratic house was only one of the duke’s vast property holdings in England, and it was very impressive.

  She had a role to play, however, and she could not let Carver Adams distract or intimidate her, despite the fact that he was now a powerful, wealthy duke and still as handsome as ever. In some ways, this was no different than the first time they had met on the battlefield at Algora. They had engaged in a power struggle then and they were engaged in something similar now, for he had not forgiven her for her escape that night when the French attacked Villarosa. She suspected he would take great pleasure in settling the score with her somehow. That could create a problem.

  And though she had tried to prepare herself for the reality of seeing Carver again, she’d been woefully unprepared for her physical and emotional response to him. Just the sight of his ruggedly handsome face and muscular soldier’s body—now dressed completely in black, as befitting a duke—had aroused her body and sent fire into her blood. And she could barely tear her gaze away from those piercing eyes that pinned her with accusation and distrust.

  But really, had she expected anything less from the man she had left behind?

  Juliet sat down at the dressing table while the maid who had been assigned to her brushed out her hair, and found herself thinking of how she had arrived here.

  After Villarosa, Lady Blade had had no choice but to go into hiding. She didn’t trust her own countrymen anymore, and the English didn’t trust her. However, she realized that her time with Carver had changed her. She had grown sick of the war, of all the killing and all the senseless death.

  And while the woman she had once been—Lady Blade—would say she had gone soft, the truth was she’d been awakened from a nightmarish slumber and forced to confront the reality of her life as well as her own human frailties. She remembered the things Esperanza had said to her that night under the stars: You have merely allowed yourself to be used as an instrument of war, killing other men—men who are husbands, brothers, and sons—simply because they are English. You have become exactly what you hate. And that is the real tragedy.

  Later, with nowhere to go and no one to rely on—other than Etienne along with his offer of marriage, which she did not wish to accept—Juliet had found herself in England, searching out her father’s family. However, his parents were dead and Juliet’s father had no siblings. He had made a provision for his only child, however, and Juliet now possessed a modest home in Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, along with a comfortable annuity.

  She was an independent woman. She filled her days with books, gardening, and the joy of painting with watercolors. She spent her nights trying to forget about her life as Lady Blade and the man who had ignited her deepest desires—a man who tempted her, still.

  Then, one day, she had met Carver’s old spymaster, Major Nye, in the local bookshop. Though it seemed to be a chance meeting, Juliet was too experienced to believe that. She had taken pains to live quietly and anonymously, but somehow Major Nye had found her in the town she now called home.

  It seemed the major had a problem, and he required Lady Blade’s help to solve it. He wanted her to partner with Carver Adams, her former lover, in order to stop Napoleon from trying once again to seize power.

  How many lives would be taken this time, Nye asked, in order to satisfy the Corsican’s hunger for power?

  After all those who had perished on both sides of the war, Juliet felt compelled to make amends for her past role as France’s most celebrated spy and use her talents to stop Napoleon for good.

  And perhaps this mission would answer her lingering questions about Carver as well, for she had lain awake many nights in her little house, remembering the passion she’d felt in his arms. Did he, too, think of the night they made love and the fact that he’d asked her to become his wife? Did he regret that proposal now? Did he feel nothing but hatred and bitterness toward her? Or was there some small part of him that wished everything had turned out differently?

  Now, here she was in his London mansion, preparing for a dangerous mission with him. She must stay focused. She could not afford to think of him as anything other than a partner in preventing another war. And if he loathed her, so be it. There were far more important things at stake than the condition of her heart.

  Later, the maid helped Juliet prepare for bed, then left her alone in the luxurious chamber. She was just drifting off when a sound, almost imperceptible, registered in her sharpened senses. The creak of a floorboard. Once, then again.

  Strangely, it had come from the other side of the mural-covered wall.

  Juliet reached for the dagger she kept under her pillow at all times, slipped out of the bed and disappeared into the shadows of the room, crouching behind a large writing desk in the corner. Though she wasn’t completely out of sight, it would buy her some time against her assailant.

  She watched from her hiding place as a door in the painted wall opened into the bedroom. Secret doors were not uncommon in great houses like these and she had taken note of it upon her first inspection of the room. Now it was being put into use. She was ready.

  A man entered the room, silent as a ghost.

  In a way, it was a ghost from Juliet’s past, for it was Carver.

  Was he here to kiss her goodnight, or kill her?

  Juliet kept quiet, watching and waiting to see what he would do.

  He wore black breeches and a white shirt, open at the neck. His blond hair was tousled, as if he’d been running his hand through it in frustration. Juliet felt an incredible desire to bury her fingers in it, and chastised herself for such a response at a moment like this.

  Carver stood silently, glancing about the room. Finally, his eyes settled upon her location behind the desk and he said, “You might as well come out. I know you’re back there, Juliet, probably brandishing a dagger. I can smell the hint of rosewater you use on your hair.”

  She frowned inwardly, angry with herself for allowing a feminine indulgence like rosewater to give away her position. Rising to her feet, she stepped out from behind the oak desk with her blade at her side.

  “That’s an odd place to spend the night,” Carver said. “You needn’t sleep on the floor. There is a perfectly good bed over there.”

  “I have a terribly odd habit, Your Grace,” she explained. “When I hear someone sneaking into my room, I generally don’t hide under the covers, waiting to greet them.”

  “No, you hide in the shadows with a dagger at the ready. It seems Lady Blade is still alive and well.”

  “Old habits die hard.”

  He took a step toward her, his gaze lit with heat. “I can’t argue with you, there. Sometimes, they stay with us forever, no matter how hard we try to defeat them.”

  He took another step closer.

  Juliet stood her ground, refusing to retreat. But this was a different kind of battle that sparked between them—one that heated Juliet’s blood and caused her flesh to tingle with arousal.

  Carver reached out and slowly took the knife from her hand, which she allowed. He placed the weapon out of reach on the fireplace mantle.

  “Did you really think I was going to leave you alone tonight?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

  “No,” she answered, truthfully.

  “I’ve had many questions about you over the past few years,” he said, sauntering closer, still. “But one, in particular, has haunted me more than all the others.”

  “And what is that?”

  He inclined his head and spoke matter-of-factly. “I wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss you again.”

  Juliet raised her chin. “Is that so?”

  His green eyes glimmered as he slowly pulled Juliet t
ight up against him. She wanted this. She couldn’t deny it. And that same question had haunted her as well. No other man had ever excited her the way Carver had. He aroused her body and soul, teasing and taming her all at once.

  His lips touched hers in a sensual caress, and Juliet quivered with desire. God, how she’d missed him.

  Carver held her in his powerful arms as his mouth sought hers, his tongue delving and taunting, stoking the fire in her that had burned only for him these past years. Unwilling to hold back any longer, Juliet met his demanding kiss with her own. Her hands snaked up to twine about his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers.

  In truth, she had been unprepared for the physical effect Carver would have on her, even after their separation. Yet, her body instantly responded to him, for her skin was hungry for his touch, his tongue, his sex.

  They were two of a kind, she and Carver—strong, passionate, and fearless, both in battle and in the bedroom—and she couldn’t help but wonder if this meant he was willing to forgive her, or perhaps even to trust her. She doubted it, but she didn’t care. All she wanted in this moment was to feel his passion, to experience this exquisite pleasure again.

  “I want you,” she breathed, teasing his tongue between her teeth. “Here and now.” She reached down and slid her hand inside his breeches, circling his swollen manhood with her fingers.

  The burning heat in his eyes confirmed that he wanted her too, yet it was mixed with wariness. But thankfully, it didn’t stop Carver from unbuttoning his breeches. He ran his hands up her thighs, pulled up her nightdress until it bunched about her waist.

  She was now naked and exposed, throbbing with need for him.

  Juliet yanked his breeches down, unable to keep from touching Carver’s thick, hardened arousal. He closed his eyes and threw his head back as she stroked him. Then he stared down at her, his eyes boring into hers as his fingers teased her slick womanhood. Juliet gasped as he pressed his hand between her thighs, stroking her, making her dizzy with need.

  He cupped her behind and lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning as he turned and pressed her up against the wall, then entered her in a single, smooth, delectable thrust.

  Juliet clung to Carver’s broad shoulders as he drove into her again and again. His hands curved around her buttocks, easily supporting her as he rocked them to oblivion.

  When the wave of pleasure crashed over her, Juliet buried her face in Carver’s neck, squeezing her body closer against his. He groaned as he found release, his mouth covering hers as he climaxed inside her.

  They remained like that, intimately joined as Carver rested his forehead against hers. Then he kissed her softly and Juliet relished the sensation of his warm lips upon hers, and his powerful sex still buried between her thighs.

  At the same time, it was disconcerting to admit how much she’d wanted this physical reunion with him.

  Finally, Carver withdrew and set her back on her feet in front of him. He buttoned up his breeches and ran a hand through his messy blond hair. His face glistened with perspiration and he wouldn’t look at her. A muscle twitched at his jaw.

  Juliet let her nightgown drop to the floor and smoothed back her hair, ready for the next battle between them, for it was clear that Carver had come here tonight with anger simmering hotly beneath the physical desire he still felt for her.

  “My dear Lady Blade, or Juliet, or Baroness de Rochefort, or whoever you are at the moment,” he said, finally. “Now that the pleasantries are over with, why don’t you tell me why you’re really here? Because I don’t believe for one second that you’ve come here to help England. You’re a cunning and conniving French spy, Lady Blade, and I have not forgotten what you did two-and-a half years ago—how you led me and all my men to the slaughter.”

  Chapter 19

  Carver regarded the indomitable Lady Blade with renewed caution. Damnation, he’d been unable to resist her sinful mouth and lithe body for even a day—but his body had demanded satisfaction. He had craved her like a dying man thirsting for water.

  Juliet was back in his life, but for how long?

  More than that, how could he trust her, knowing what he did about her past?

  Though they had just reached the heights of passion together, it didn’t take long for either of them to raise their shields once more. Juliet’s steely blue eyes, which moments ago had burned with raw desire, now regarded him with a mixture of aggression and incredulity.

  She pulled the sleeve of her night gown up over her shoulder. “I am here to fight against those who would restore Napoleon to power. Just like you.”

  “And I am supposed to believe that?” Carver asked, flatly.

  “Given our history together, I suppose not.”

  He frowned. “No. And I confess, I wonder at Major Nye’s decision to bring you into this mission. You used to fight for France. Now that the war is over, you’ve had a change of heart?”

  “The war has changed me, Carver,” she replied. “Don’t you remember our time together, traveling to Villarosa?”

  “I remember everything,” Carver replied, glaring as he buttoned up his open shirt. “It seems, however, that you have forgotten a few things, so let me refresh your memory. Just before the secret French attack on Villarosa, you mysteriously went missing. Sergeant Hackett and I arrived at General Edgerton’s residence planning to convince him to release you back into my custody. That night, I was willing to do anything to prevent you from being traded back to the French. I had asked you to be my wife.”

  “I remember,” she said with a hint of vulnerability in her eyes and a quaver in her voice, but he would not let himself fall for that. She was not to be trusted.

  “We were lovers,” he continued. “More than that, you could have been carrying my child. I was damned if I was going to let the British Army use you as a pawn. When Edgerton went to retrieve you from your quarters, you were gone. Then all hell broke loose. I lost some good men. And though at first I didn’t want to believe it, as a soldier, I had to face the fact that you must have played a part in the attack. While my men and I were escorting you to Villarosa, we were unwittingly, each day, moving one step closer to our doom, but I was too blind to see it. Now, here you are again—the deadly French spy, ready to make amends for her past sins and assist the English. Pardon me, Lady Blade, if I am sceptical regarding your motives.”

  She eyed him coolly. “You seem to have made up your mind about every last detail regarding the past, present, and future. Unfortunately, like most men, you assume that your own logic, experience, and intellect are infallible and are not to be questioned. Meanwhile, you do not know all the facts, and you have little interest in learning them. As long as you believe you are right, that is all that matters to you.”

  Carver chuckled bitterly and began to clap. “Brava, Lady Blade. I see your skills as an actress are as sharp as ever. But know this, I am not the same man you manipulated in the Peninsula. I was burned once and I will not be burned again. And though you and I may have been lovers—”

  Juliet cut him off. “Given what just happened between us, I’d say we are lovers, still.”

  He arched a brow. “The circumstances are different. What we just shared had nothing to do with love.”

  “And it did during the war?” she prodded.

  “It did for me,” he replied, soberly. “But I was in love with someone who didn’t exist. I thought I’d broken through to the flesh and blood woman beneath the soldier’s exterior. Little did I know, it was all part of your act to pull me in closer and use me as a weapon against my own army. I must say, your plan worked well. Many British soldiers died that night, and as we all know, Villarosa fell back under French control. Wellington was nearly assassinated. Hundreds of lives were lost on both sides. But I see you escaped unscathed. What an incredible coincidence.”

  “You escaped, as well, Carver,” she said, angrily. “Why is surviving Villarosa only a sin for me?”

  He wanted to say
, “Because you betrayed me,” but he knew how foolish that would sound. They were on opposite sides of a war.

  Carver looked about the room, desperate for answers to questions that had none. If only Juliet had stayed away, he could have pretended she was dead. Yet doing exactly that for over two years hadn’t exactly cured him of his obsession with her memory.

  “I thought about you,” he said, in quiet, controlled voice. “I wondered if you had survived, and if there had been a child from our union. Was there?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He let out a breath. “Would you have wanted my child if you had conceived?”

  She faced him again, her eyes fiery and challenging. “Of course. I would have wanted your child very much.”

  Her words stirred a raw, masculine emotion in his heart. Though there had been no child from their previous association, they had just taken the same risk again, and he wasn’t sorry. What was wrong with him?

  “Perhaps I shouldn’t have tempted fate a second time just now.”

  “Why did you?”

  He spoke in a low, husky voice. “You know why.”

  The corner of her lush mouth curled up in a small, knowing grin. “Because we are incapable of keeping our hands off each other?”

  He didn’t answer, for she spoke the truth in plain terms. Carver would have to be tied up and locked in a cell to stay away from the indomitable Lady Blade.

  “I asked you before, why are you really here? What do you seek to accomplish? Surely, you’re not here to assert the legality of our hand-fast marriage during the war, now that I am a duke?”

  She scoffed at that. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am an independent woman. My father left me property and an annuity. I do not need you, your title, or your money. I am here to stop a tyrant who I fought for, blindly. You may not believe it, Carver, but I do have regrets about that. Many lives were lost because of my efforts during the war, but you are in no position to judge me. Many died because of you, as well. We are both equally guilty, and we both should work together to make amends. Whatever happens between us now is secondary to that goal. That’s why Major Nye searched for me. He knew if the two of us worked together, we could be a formidable threat to Napoleon’s new plan.”