More than a Masquerade by Adele Clee

Chapter 4

There weremany ways Miss Gambit might persuade him to hire her. She could strip out of that sumptuous gown, devour his mouth until they were breathless. She could massage his tense shoulders, stroke his throbbing cock.

Eli wanted her. He wanted to lift her off her feet, slam her back against the door, and drive long and hard into her warm body.

Should she offer any of those tempting things, Eli would whip her over his shoulder and dump her in Dante D’Angelo’s carriage.

“Be careful,” he warned. “Remember what I want, what I need.” He spoke in a teasing voice that was so unlike him. Part of him hoped she’d pass the test because time was of the essence, and he needed to catch a cunning bastard. Part of him, a part he’d long since buried, hoped she would ravish him senseless.

“You said you needed a woman. I’m every inch a woman.”

“As I’m most acutely aware, Miss Gambit.” He braced himself, anticipating the touch of her hand against his bare chest. While he’d developed a sudden craving for an illicit affair, it was the last thing he needed.

“Most women are afraid of their own shadow. I’m not.” She sounded confident, nothing like a temptress out to snare him in her trap. “It took courage to enter your house tonight, courage I have aplenty.”

A man could measure his courage by the way he took his brandy. One mouthful and he could lead an army. One bottle would have him stumbling onto the battlefield without waiting for reinforcements.

“I’ll not deny your bravery is something to be admired. But it’s not cowardly to walk away from an untenable situation.”

“If you’re referring to the Dark Walk, then I’ve already admitted to acting in error. Surely you’d prefer to work with a woman who owns up to her mistakes. An honesty exists between us, Mr Hunter, one you’ll struggle to find with anyone else.”

Yes, she spoke her mind. He liked that.

And she could follow orders. The exercise in the Dark Walk hadn’t been a complete failure. But how would he deal with this damnable attraction?

“I’ve an excellent memory, better than most,” she added.

“You’ve told me of your strengths, madam. Now tell me your greatest weakness.” Focusing on her faults would quieten the newly awakened beast.

She pursed her lips. “Impatience. Impatience and a quick temper. When I lived with Lady Hanaway—”

“I’m not interested in your past.” The less he knew about her, the better. “I need someone who can play a role, who can act without letting the mask fall. I need someone who isn’t intimidated by powerful men, someone with a backbone of steel.”

“I can be anything you want me to be, sir.” As quick as a wink, her expression changed from amiable to arrogant. The pads of her fingers settled on his chest, not to explore or caress but to push him away. “I came tonight to prove I’m determined, but I am finished playing games. If you will excuse me, I shall bid you good night. Should you decide I have the qualities you desire in a partner, speak to Mr Daventry, and he will arrange a meeting.”

She turned and gripped the knob.

Eli braced his hand against the door to prevent her from leaving. “You’re hired, Miss Gambit. You start immediately.” He ignored his doubts, ignored his fears, ignored the warning voice that urged him to keep his distance. “You’ve half an hour to gather some clothes. We’re leaving London.”

She swung around, her topaz eyes twinkling in the darkness. “Leaving for St Albans? I heard you speaking to your butler.”

“We’ll visit a coaching inn north of London, then proceed to St Albans.”

“What clothes will I need?” Excitement radiated from every aspect of her being. “What is it you want me to do?”

Eli hesitated. He would have to tell her about the Order of Themis, about the traitor secretly working to destroy his brethren. But should he trust this stranger? Daventry had every faith in her, and he was rarely wrong.

“Sit down, Miss Gambit.” Eli crossed the room, snatched his shirt and gestured to the chair. “What I tell you tonight is confidential. You’ll not repeat it to your friends or to Daventry’s enquiry agents. Is that understood?”

Miss Gambit came to sit in the chair. She kept her hands clasped in her lap, sat with such poise and grace one would never suspect she carried a weapon in her reticule.

“Perfectly. I’m here to help you, Mr Hunter, not cause problems.”

She watched him beneath lowered lids as he dragged the shirt over his head and covered his naked torso. His state of undress would have unnerved most ladies. Not Miss Gambit. The exercise had told him a little more about her character, made him wonder if she had ever taken a man to her bed.

“Do you know why Lucius Daventry became the master of a group of enquiry agents?” He moved to the nightstand and lit the charcloth in the tinderbox.

“Because the justice system favours the powerful and wealthy, and he sought to even the odds. The gentlemen of the Order are wealthy. They believe in the cause and give their services for free. The ladies accept a fee because Mr Daventry intends to use the funds to help the destitute.”

Eli lit various candles dotted about the room. “That’s not all. Lucius Daventry rescues boys from the streets and puts them through school. He finds intelligent men without funds and pays for them to train as barristers and doctors.”

“His benevolence is inspiring.”

“Truly inspiring. But he is the master of another Order. A secret council of men who seek to uncover lies. Men who have worked for him long before he hired enquiry agents. Men who infiltrate society and gather information.”

Miss Gambit frowned. “Information? Information about what?”

Eli heard the question, but candlelight caught the golden tones of her hair, leaving him momentarily entranced. He tried not to notice her plump pillow-like lips or the soft swell of her breasts rising and falling with each excited breath.

“Mr Hunter?” she prompted.

“Yes, they compile lists of corrupt men. They uncover conspiracies.”

“A secret council of which you’re a member.”

“Indeed.”

“Has someone discovered their identity?”

Her instincts were as sharp as a winter’s breeze.

“Not yet. A traitor lives amongst them. A man who has switched allegiances. A man who has turned his back on his friends and sold his soul to the devil. We need to discover who the man is before it’s too late.”

Miss Gambit swallowed. “Too late?”

Eli leant back against the bedpost. “Before men die, Miss Gambit. We must use clever means to trap him. Daventry will explain more when we arrive at The Wild Hare.”

“At the coaching inn north of London,” she clarified.

“Yes. Let’s hope you’re able to function without sleep.”

She fell silent, her gaze coming to rest on his bare feet. Oddly, he felt more exposed than when he’d stood in nothing but his trousers.

“Why do you need to hire a woman?” Her tone rang with suspicion. “I sell my intelligence and my insight, Mr Hunter. I do not sell my body regardless of the cause.”

“I would never ask you to demean yourself in such a manner.” He was offended she thought so little of him, but then she knew nothing about him, not even his given name. “We need to unsettle the Council. We need to lure the serpent out of his basket. Goad him and bait him until he strikes.”

Miss Gambit straightened. “If I’m not the snake charmer, where do I fit into this scheme?”

Eli observed her for a moment, prayed to God she was as strong as she proclaimed. “Congratulations, Miss Gambit. You’ve been promoted. You’re the new mistress of the Order of Themis.”

* * *

The Wild Hare stood eight miles from London on the Great North Road. The proud plaque above the door revealed the inn had served tired travellers since the sixteenth century. Eli had visited the place on numerous occasions. Never to take a fresh horse, quench his thirst or rest his weary head.

“Mr Daventry’s office is in Hart Street.” Miss Gambit scanned the deserted road, glanced up at the spangle of stars in the night sky. “Why would he meet us here at this late hour?”

“Daventry keeps his work for Themis separate from his work in Hart Street.” Eli escorted the lady into the dimly lit taproom. The place carried the pungent smell of mould-ridden furnishings, stale smoke and baked herring. “We’ll send word, and he’ll arrive shortly.”

Miss Gambit looked up at the rows of empty flagons hanging from hooks in the beamed ceiling. “Are you sure it’s safe to wait here?”

“No one has died from a falling flagon.” The corners of his mouth twitched, but he suppressed a smile. “Though I warn you, the beef stew is often rancid. And I have known the innkeeper scratch his sweaty crotch before accepting a man’s coin.”

“Then I’m thankful I’m a woman. And I make it a rule never to eat anything swimming in gravy.”

Eli took the handbell from the crude oak counter and rang it twice. “Gravy hides a multitude of sins.”

“Jacob Hanaway once hid maggots in my stew. I saw one crawling on my spoon.” While she sounded amused, her eyes bore the harrowing reflection of a woman who’d suffered. “To show he couldn’t scare me, I swallowed the thing whole. For days, I imagined it wriggling in my stomach.”

“I’m sure they have some nutritional benefit.” He rang the bell again. The sudden urge to find Jacob Hanaway and fill his mouth with maggots was the reason Eli swiftly changed the subject. “The wine here is tolerable. Find the cleanest seat, and I’ll order while we wait for Lucius Daventry.”

She nodded but didn’t scour the taproom as he suggested. Instead, she chose the seat by the window with a view of the road. She lowered the hood on her blue travelling cloak but did not remove the garment. The fire in the taproom had burned to nought but glowing embers, and the air held the frosty nip common in mid-February.

Bill Stubbs, a man of average height and build, though his stomach protruded to such a degree it looked like he carried a barrel beneath his shirt, came stomping through a door behind the counter.

Upon recognising Eli, Stubbs didn’t need to ask what he wanted. “I’ll have Watkins ride to Bronygarth. Can I get ye anything while ye wait?”

Bronygarth was Lucius Daventry’s country estate, where he lived with his wife and young sons. Few people knew the exact location, and Daventry paid Stubbs handsomely to ensure it stayed that way.

“Just a flagon of wine and two mugs.” Eli slapped four shillings onto the counter. “Let Daventry know I’ve a woman keeping me company.”

Stubbs craned his neck and glanced over Eli’s shoulder. “And a mighty fine lookin’ piece she is, too. I’ll send Watkins on his way and then bring yer flagon.”

Eli inwardly groaned. Miss Gambit’s comely countenance would capture any man’s attention. Still, her steely determination and unwavering honesty were qualities he found attractive. Working alongside her would test the limits of his resolve.

“Mr Daventry’s residence must be within easy riding distance,” Miss Gambit said when Eli dropped into the seat next to her. “Clearly he’s used to being woken at such an ungodly hour.”

“He should be here shortly,” was all Eli said.

“Perhaps we should use the time to get to know each other better. Let me try to determine what lies behind your grim facade.”

His grim facade was a means to ward off female attention.

“We should use the time to discuss the Order of Themis.” Avoiding intimacy was his life’s mission. “You must convince the Council that you’re qualified to lead them. They will demand proof of your skills. What will we tell them?”

She shrugged. “I have an exceptional memory.”

“How exceptional?” Was there anything unremarkable about this woman? “Perhaps I should put you to the test.”

“Had you asked me to recite passages from the Old Testament instead of navigating the Dark Walk, you could have saved me the inconvenience of stealing into your house.”

“Most of us can recite passages from the Bible,” he said, sounding unimpressed. “That’s hardly a demonstration of your skill.”

“Start by naming a book in the Old Testament, and I’ll tell you what precedes it.” She looked so self-assured he knew he’d spoken prematurely. “Pick one at random.”

“Ezekiel.”

“Lamentations,” she said with nary a pause.

“Esther.” He’d tried to pick something less obvious.

“Nehemiah.” She grinned. “Ask for a quote.”

Eli glanced out of the window at the dusky yard. “Give me a quote from Deuteronomy containing the word night.”

“And thy life shall hang in doubt before thee; and thou shalt fear day and night, and shalt have no assurance of thy life.” She arched a brow. “Chapter twenty-eight.”

“And the verse?”

“Sixty-six.”

“Impressive. No doubt if I asked you to recite the first word of Numbers, chapter ten, verse twenty, you would say …”

“And.” A light laugh breezed from her lips. “The odds were in my favour. At least half the verses begin with that word. I spent five torturous months aboard ship with nothing but a Bible for company. Sadly, I never got as far as the New Testament.”

Eli found himself smiling. Well, the corners of his mouth curled upwards for the first time in years. “We must decide why Daventry needs someone with your skill to act as the temporary custodian of his organisation.”

“We’ll tell them there’s a traitor in their midst. That Mr Daventry wants me to memorise every document before destroying them.”

Eli was pondering the suggestion when Stubbs returned and deposited a flagon of wine and two mugs on the table. “Watkins left five minutes ago, sir.”

“Thank you, Stubbs. That will be all.” Eli waited until the innkeeper was out of earshot. “No, we’ll tell them Daventry is on his deathbed and appointed you to stand in his stead.” He poured wine into their mugs. “Themis was a woman. We’ll say Daventry sought to trust the deity because he could no longer trust the men.”

“I’m not a goddess, Mr Hunter.”

He begged to differ. She possessed Aphrodite’s power to stun a man and leave him speechless. She could transform herself into air, for he could almost taste her essence with every breath.

“To the Council, you may as well be a creature of myth. They’ll not accept you unless you prove yourself supreme.” In that battle, he had to appear impartial. As a council member, he would be forced to challenge her, too.

“As long as you’re aware, my experience is minimal. My training amounts to having overpowered two cruel dandies, fighting off the attentions of Madame Dubarry’s numerous lovers. Still, men don’t frighten me, sir.”

Despite her faltering confidence, she refused to accept defeat.

“You conquered the sea, Miss Gambit. You survived against the odds. That sets you apart from us mere mortals.”

Her eyes widened. “You surprise me, Mr Hunter.” She stared at him with an unnerving air of wonder. “You never give praise. Or was that just a means to intimidate me?”

“I doubt the devil could intimidate you, Miss Gambit.” No, he had the distinct impression she hid behind a fortress as great as his own.

She smiled in a light, carefree way that made him long to break free from his shackles. “Tell me more about the Order of Themis.”

Eli was grateful for the distraction and spent half an hour explaining that the Order was formed after the Norman Conquest. Over the years, the men had thwarted plots to assassinate heads of state and dignitaries from abroad. Had uncovered conspiracies to undermine the government.

“You would be the first woman ever to take the helm.”

Miss Gambit gripped her mug and gulped the wine until the vessel was empty. “You recall this is my first case?” Wine trickled from the corner of her mouth, and she mopped it up with her tongue.

Eli took a calming breath and refilled her mug. “Madam, you have me struggling to anticipate your next move. The Council will have a battle to keep up with you.”

“That sounds much like another compliment, Mr Hunter. You can be rather charming when the mood takes you.”

“Such moments are rare.” Extremely rare.

She made a quick scan of his attire. “Because people are too scared to speak to a stern man in black?”

“Because I rarely meet people worthy of admiration.”

God’s teeth! The mischievous twinkle in her eye said he’d spoken in error.

“So, you admire me, sir.” She managed to grin while sipping her wine—another exceptional feat.

“I respect the fact you have a keen mind and the courage to confront those who dare pose a challenge.”

“Unless I’ve taken to strolling along the Dark Walk. Then, I’m illogical and a veritable shrew.” She clinked her mug against his to show she’d scored a point.

Damnation! The woman had his mind spinning in circles. “What do you want me to say? That seeing you being manhandled by two scoundrels roused my ire to such an extent I spoke out of turn?” He’d wanted to throttle them with his bare hands.

“Only if it’s true.”

“It’s true.” He expected her to punch the air in triumph.

She fell silent. Seconds passed before she spoke. “You mentioned creatures of myth. I always believed good, honest men were fictional beings, the stuff of legends. It’s reassuring to know I was wrong.”

The last woman to speak so intimately listed his faults, his failures, berated him for a catalogue of errors. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you know me. I have a reputation for being a heartless devil, a dangerous man few dare cross.” It was a chain of armour he wore with pride. A chain of armour no one could penetrate.

“Regardless, good men champion the truth.” Miss Gambit reached across the table and patted his hand. “Now, you must learn to speak from the heart.”

Eli’s throat tightened in response.

It was best to keep the emotions buried.

Thank God Lucius Daventry chose that moment to thunder into the coach yard on his black stallion. He dismounted and tied the reins to the hitching post before marching into the taproom.

Eli stood, noting the man’s impeccable attire. “I see we didn’t drag you from your bed.”

“You insisted on vetting Miss Gambit the night before the Council meeting. I’ve been expecting you.” Daventry brushed his hand through his coal-black hair. There wasn’t a single strand of grey despite him being thirty and dealing with problems that would put most men in Bedlam. “I see you passed Hunter’s rigorous tests, Miss Gambit.”

The lady shook her head. “I failed miserably. He is the hard taskmaster you warned of, sir. Thankfully, I found a loophole that allowed me to prove my worth.”

“Miss Gambit possesses remarkable determination,” Eli admitted, keeping any hint of admiration from his tone. “I believe she has the qualities needed to help find the traitor.”

Daventry gestured for Eli to sit. He strode behind the counter and found a mug, then joined them at the table and helped himself to wine.

“I trust you have a plan, Hunter.”

A plan of sorts. “We’ll tell the Council you’re ill, that you’ve nominated Miss Gambit to stand in your stead. She’ll confront them with our suspicions. They’ll seek to prove their innocence. In doing so, the traitor is sure to reveal himself.”

Daventry pursed his lips and glanced at Miss Gambit. “That’s the reason you insisted on hiring a woman? Not to play the role of maid and rummage through our brethren’s bedchambers? Not to move covertly through Trēowith without drawing attention?”

Eli cleared his throat. Daventry had a way of making the most hardened men nervous. “That was my initial plan. But we’ve been watching the Council for weeks and have no new leads. Men’s lives are at stake. It strikes me that Miss Gambit has the temerity to draw the devil out.”

Daventry sipped his wine while studying Miss Gambit over the rim of his mug. “It’s too dangerous. She’ll need round-the-clock protection. At Trēowith, you’ll be without support.”

“I can protect myself, sir,” Miss Gambit snapped. “Need I remind you what occurred the day you hired me.”

Daventry smiled. “Miss Gambit chased a thief from the pawnbroker’s shop. She cornered him in an alley, pressed her blade to his throat and forced him to empty his pockets.”

“My only regret is that he emptied his bladder,” she added.

Eli found himself in the unusual position of being amused and horrified at the same time. He wondered when he might meet the vulnerable woman hiding behind the mask. The woman who hid behind the bravado as a means of survival.

“We’ll be at Trēowith for one night, maybe two.” Eli feared they would be long, taxing nights where a man had to recite the Lord’s Prayer to stave off temptation. “I can guard Miss Gambit until we return to London.”

“Peter Hanaway held my head in the water trough until I was seconds away from drowning. I’m sure I can deal with scheming council members.”

Daventry ignored the harrowing revelation. “If I’m on my deathbed, you’ll protect her until we’ve caught the traitor.”

Eli’s gut twisted. “Can one of your agents not play nursemaid?”

“I don’t need coddling,” Miss Gambit complained.

“No, you don’t,” Daventry replied. “You’ve a sharp mind and a man’s determination, but I wish to take all necessary precautions. Besides, Hunter won’t be protecting you. You’ll be protecting each other.”

“What the devil?” Eli was about to shoot out of the chair, but Daventry raised a staying hand. Panic flared. To keep Miss Gambit safe, he would need to watch her night and day. “You’re asking me to move her into my house?”

Daventry offered a half shrug. “It seems the logical solution. No doubt, Miss Gambit will find it an inconvenience, but one must push personal feelings aside when men’s lives are at risk.”

Miss Gambit would find it an inconvenience?

Hellfire! The bothersome woman would drive him to distraction.

“So, that’s settled.” Daventry shot Eli a look that told him not to argue. “Miss Gambit will visit Trēowith in my place. Lord DeVille wishes to hire an agent and has invited me to his clifftop estate in Whitstable. Upon my return, I’ll remain at Bronygarth until you’ve caught the devil. I’ll inform Ashwood of our plans should you need support.”

Noah Ashwood was the overseer at the Order’s offices in Hart Street. He was an excellent agent and a man his colleagues admired.

Daventry tugged his seal ring from his finger and handed it to Miss Gambit. “Guard this with your life. Present it to the Council. It’s the only one of its kind. They’ll know I gave it to you.”

“They might think I’ve stolen it,” she said.

“While they’re concerned with the whys and wherefores, they will leave themselves open to scrutiny.” He glanced at Eli. “Are we all in agreement?”

Eli reluctantly nodded, as did Miss Gambit.

“Excellent. Now let’s devise a plan.”