Passion for the Game (Georgian #2)

Passion for the Game (Georgian #2) Page 41

She said nothing.

“I can assist you in return for the service you provide to me.” Eddington bent low, resting his forearms on his thighs. “I know where your sister is. You must know something about St. John that will help me catch him. This can be a mutual y beneficial association.”

“You wish to use her against me, as Welton does.” Her hands fisted in her lap. “If anything untoward happens to her, you will pay dearly. I promise you that.”

“Maria.” It was the first occasion the earl had ever used her first name and the familiarity shook her, as he most likely intended. “Your position is untenable. You know this. I can achieve my aims without helping you. Accept my terms. They are more than fair.”

“Nothing about this is fair, my lord. Nothing.”

“Your trust is safer with me than it is with St. John.”

“You do not know him.”

“Neither do you,” he argued. “I am not the only one who knows where Lady Amelia is. St. John knows as Well.”

Her smile was mocking. “Ply your wiles on someone more gul ible than I.”

“By what means do you think I found her? I sent agents to investigate Welton because of his connection to you. St. John’s men were ahead of us, making inquiries of their own. They discovered your sister. The pursuing agents simply fol owed.”

She frowned, considering, looking back on the last few days with examining eyes.

“Damn you.” The earl’s hands fisted at his knees. “I believed you would be a match for St. John, but he has deceived you as Well.”

“I am not so easily goaded that you can toss out such an accusation and I will accept it on its face. My doubt in your claim does not mean that St.

John has my sympathies or loyalty, only that between the two of you, I see a great deal of similarity. In this case, is there a lesser of two evils?”

“Be reasonable,” he cajoled. “I strive for the good of England. St. John strives for his own selfish welfare. Surely that gives me some advantage?”

Her mouth curved disdainful y.

“Maria. Surely there is some tidbit you can pass on to me that will implicate St. John in il egal activities or will provide some clue about that witness.

Is there anyone you might have seen visiting St. John, someone he has talked about? Think careful y. Your sister’s fate lies in the balance.”

Weary of it all and heartsick, she knew she had to bring this triangle to its conclusion. She could not go on like this. It was too draining, and she needed what little energy she had remaining to bring Amelia safely home. “He has asked me to accompany him this evening,” she whispered. “He has smuggled goods stored nearby.”

“He will take you there?”

She nodded. “I pity you if you arrest him for smuggling. The people will riot.”

“Leave that concern to me,” he said, with obvious excitement. “You just lead the way.”

Christopher cursed under his breath. “You are certain that was what he said? That he ordered the capture of Amelia?”

“Yes.” Tim nodded. “They were speaking low, but I heard it clear. They are awaiting word now. Eddington didn’t say as much to Lady Winter. He said he was watching her sister, not nabbing ’er.”

“We can only hope that Walter, Sam, and the others were able to fend them off,” Philip said.

“Hope is too fickle to base assumption on,” Christopher argued. “To be safe, we must assume that Eddington was successful.”

“So how will you proceed?” Philip’s gaze was sympathetic behind his spectacles.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Christopher settled his hip more securely against the front of his desk. “I will offer myself to Eddington in trade.”

“By God, no!” Tim roared. “She means to betray you.”

“What choice does she have?” Christopher countered.

“Eddington is an agent,” Philip said. “I doubt he would hurt the girl.”

“I have my doubts, as Well. But by law, he should return the girl to Welton and I think he will , if Maria does not provide the assistance he has demanded of her.” Christopher looked at Tim. “Return to Lady Winter, but escort her to me this evening.”

“You would sacrifice yourself for her benefit, when she will not do the same for you?” Tim asked in obvious outrage.

Christopher offered a slight smile. How could he explain? How could he put into words the greater weight he gave to Maria’s happiness than to his own? Yes, he could confront her with his knowledge of Eddington, but where would that leave them? He could not proceed with his life knowing he had thrown her to the wolves, leaving her at the mercy of Welton and Eddington and men like Sedgewick who wished to harm her.

“Philip and my solicitor are aware of the steps I have set in place to see to the welfare of all of you, should something untoward happen to me.”

“I care naught about that!” Tim argued. “’Tis your welfare that concerns me.”

“Thank you, my friend.” Christopher smiled. “I am grateful.”

“No.” Tim shook his head. “Yer daft. Lost yer mind o’er a woman. Never thought to see the day.”

“You have said that Lady Winter refused him information until he baited her with her sister. I hold no blame on her for this. She truly has no other choice if she has any hope of reclaiming her sibling.”

“She could choose you,” Tim muttered.

Hiding his pain, Christopher gestured for them to leave him. “Go now. I have some matters to arrange.”

The men departed reluctantly, and Christopher sank into his seat behind the desk and released his breath. Who would have thought his relationship with Maria would end like this?

Regardless, he could not find the will to regret their affair. He had been happy for a time.

For that, he would gladly pay whatever cost was required.

Chapter 21

The ride to the St. John residence felt as Maria imagined a ride to Tyburn would feel.

Somewhere behind her, Eddington and other agents fol owed.

The knowledge ate at her with a viciousness that caused her physical pain. She wanted Amelia back more than anything in the world, but her heart told her the price she would pay was too great.

There was no escaping how deeply attached she was to St. John. Despite all of the things she had discovered about him over the length of their liaison, she could only seem to dwel on his kindnesses—his handling of Templeton, his concern over her injury, the way he made love to her.

As she exited the carriage and stared up at Christopher’s house with its empty planters and burly guards, the minute details of their association fil ed her mind. Heated moments and tender ones. Moments of comfortable silences and moments of verbal sparring. They shared a startling affinity and similar pasts.

Lifting her skirts, Maria ascended the short steps without haste and swept through the waiting open door. Many of those who lived under his protection lined the downstairs, watching her gravely, their eyes dipping to the foil in her hand. Her gaze met each and every one of theirs, chal enging them to interfere.

None did.

She climbed the main staircase to reach Christopher’s bedroom and knocked on the door. When she heard his voice call out to her, she entered.

Christopher stood before the mirror, shrugging into a beautiful y embroidered waistcoat that was held out by his valet. The colorful floral pattern was a lovely accent to his butter yel ow breeches and the matching jacket that hung on the nearby rack. The entire ensemble reminded her of their first meeting in the theater, and her chin lifted.

“I have something to tel you.”

Christopher’s gaze met hers in the reflection, then he caught sight of her weapon. With a low murmur, he dismissed the servant and faced her.

“Why, Lady Winter, had I known my lover would send you in her stead, I would have dressed warmer.”

“Your garments are perfect.” Her mouth curved. “Less material between the tip of my blade and your skin.”

“Do you mean to run me through?”

“I might.”

He raked her with a skeptical glance.

“I urge you not to think of my skirts as an advantage in your favor. I have trained as much in gowns as I have breeches.”

His hands came up in a signal of surrender. “Pray tel , fair lady, what service can I provide that would spare me from certain death?”

Maria set the tip in the Aubusson rug and rested her hand casual y atop the hilt. “Do you love me?”

Christopher’s brow arched. “Gads. How unsporting of you to solicit a declaration of love under duress.”

Her foot tapped impatiently.

He smiled and stopped her heart. “I adore you, my love. I worship you. I would kiss your feet and supplicate myself for your favors. I offer you all that I have—my vast riches, my many ships, my cock, which weeps for your attentions—”

“Enough.” She shook her head. “That was odious.”

“Oh? I should like to see you do better.”

“Very Well. I love you.”

“That’s it?” His arms crossed, but his eyes were soft and warm. “That is all you have to say?”

“Stay home tonight.”

He tensed. “Maria?”

She inhaled deeply, then released her breath in a rush. “You asked me many times what association I have with Eddington. He is an agent of the Crown, Christopher. He is out there now, waiting to follow us and catch you in the thick of things.”

He stared at her pensively. “I see.”

“I know about Sedgewick.”

When he opened his mouth, she held up her hand. “No explanations. I mention it only because Simon found the witness. Sedgewick demanded the man’s cooperation as ransom for the safety of his family—a wife, two sons, and a daughter. Tim and several men freed them. The viscount has nothing against you now.”

His brows dipped together in a deep frown. “You render me speechless.”