A Secret in Her Kiss (5 page)

“So in your note when you wrote you were being monitored and needed help immediately, it referred to Prestwood.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. Said in that tone, it did sound bad. She glanced at Bennett as the inexplicable urge to defend herself overwhelmed her. A lump had formed on his chin where Nathan’s punch had landed. She grimaced, wishing she could soothe it. “The note said more than that.”

Bennett’s eyebrow rose. “I know. I read it.”

She clenched her fists. Forget pity; she’d add a lump of her own. “How dare you! The note was private.”

“Apparently not. You left it in a window shutter.”

“You knew it wasn’t for you.”

He remained unruffled. “I couldn’t let you endanger yourself.”

Hadn’t it occurred to the man that she’d managed to survive all of her twenty-three years miraculously without his help? “If you knew what it said, why did you leave it?”

Bennett motioned toward Nathan. “I knew it would draw its recipient out sooner or later. I just had to keep watch.”

Nathan eyed him approvingly. “I had my doubts when I heard an army man was coming to watch over her. But it appears I may have been too hasty in my judgment.”

Mari flinched. There it was. His betrayal. The disappointment she’d always known was coming. It was better to have it out of the way. The ache at his desertion was so familiar it was almost welcome. “How do you know each other?”

Nathan shrugged. “I’m friends with his older brother, Darton.” His lips tightened and his expression grew serious. “I would like your word, Prestwood, that you won’t mention my presence here. Other than my superiors, the ambassador is the only man who knows of my presence.”

Bennett nodded. “If you’re here, why did the government send me?”

Mari heard the question Bennett had been too tactful to voice. Why had he been forced to take this assignment? She glared at a crack between the blue tiles in the floor. Well, he’d save them both a lot of trouble if he would just leave.

Nathan straightened his turban, which had been knocked askew in the fight. “I am not often in Constantinople. I could only look after her on occasion.”

“So who watched Miss Sinclair while you were gone?”

She refused to let them talk about her as if she wasn’t there. “I watched myself.”

The muscles clenched in Bennett’s jaw.

Nathan, never slow at picking up on tension, interceded. “Mari is indeed a bright and capable woman but after the incident at Chorlu, I had to inform the ambassador of Mari’s identity as the source of the drawings in case she needed assistance while I was gone. He apparently took it upon himself to inform his superiors. The man is a bit antiquated in his views on women.”

“You have a lot in common with your cousin, don’t you, Bennett?” she said with a false smile.

“What happened at Chorlu?” Bennett asked.

She stared at him. “Someone shot at me.”

“What?”

Why did he think his cousin had to blackmail her into continuing to draw? “Why did you think you had been sent?”

Bennett ignored her and turned to Nathan. “Were you there?”

“No.”

“Then take your leave.”

Mari gaped. This was her home and Nathan was her associate. Bennett had no authority to send anyone away. He wasn’t the master of this house and he never would be.

Nathan interrupted her growing ire with a quick bow. “I will leave you to your discussion. I find the less I know, the more I can deny.” He grinned at her. “I’d tell you to behave yourself, but we both know that would be futile.”

Mari glared at both men as Nathan walked out the door.

Then she advanced on Bennett.

Chapter Five

“C
horlu?” Bennett posed the question before Mari could overtake his position. And she planned to. He’d fought too many advancing French columns to doubt it.

“Someone shot at me. And don’t try to convince me it was simply a hunter’s stray bullet.”

His gut clenched. Hell. A blown cover was one thing, but attempted murder elevated the level of danger to a whole different realm. “What happened?”

She exhaled in exasperation. “I bent to retrieve a jar of ink from my bag when a bullet hit the tree trunk over my head. Your cousin is convinced it was an accident.”

“Why would he think that?”

She frowned. “I wasn’t gathering information at the time. In fact, I was nowhere near any military presence. Besides, it was only one shot. I’ll admit, if someone was trying to kill me, why didn’t they shoot again?”

“Because a good sharpshooter knows his advantage is surprise.” He stepped toward her and she retreated. “Once he’s missed that first shot, the chance of discovery becomes too great. He’d regroup and wait again for the perfect shot.”

She gasped as her legs collided with the table behind her. He braced his arms on either side of her, pinning her in. “He’ll wait until you are alone, or failing that, when you least expect it.”

A delicate ripple trembled along her throat as she swallowed. He raised his hand and traced it with the back of his knuckle.

“When you walk out to climb into your carriage. Or perhaps through an open window as you disrobe for your bath.”

Under his fingers, a ragged breath vibrated in her throat.

“If your shooter knows anything, you won’t expect that bullet when it comes.” He splayed his fingers at the base of her neck. Her tongue darted over her lips. It took all his restraint not to lower his mouth and follow it with his own.

With a jerk, he removed his hand from the hypnotic warmth of her skin. “Your life is in danger and will be as long as you continue drawing. Why are you still doing this?”

She glared at him, the flush in her cheeks fading. “You know as well as I that I can’t afford not to.”

The damned money again. “Do you know what you are to draw?”

“I know Midia but not the final one.”

“How soon can you draw Midia?” he asked.

Her glare intensified. “Eager to leave?”

“Yes.” But he did intend to see that she survived this before he left. “Do you take anyone with you when you work?”

She shook her head. “My maid travels with me to the towns, but I don’t bring her into the field.”

“From now on, you will go nowhere unaccompanied.”

As if that would protect her from a bullet. Her chest swelled as she prepared to protest, but she slowly released the breath. The request was a logical one. “I won’t draw without someone with me.”

He no longer trusted her to follow the spirit of the rule. “No, that is not what I said. You will not leave this house unless you are accompanied.”

Her chin lifted. “Didn’t I just agree?”

He didn’t flinch under her mock outrage. He had learned a thing or two from his sisters after all. “No.”

She quirked her eyebrow at him in concession of the point. “Fine.”

His shock at her quick capitulation must have registered on his face.

“Contrary to your obvious opinion of my mental abilities, I am not a complete fool, Major.”

“Bennett,” he reminded her. If they were going to pull off a courtship ruse, neither of them could slip.

She narrowed her eyes, but again, she didn’t confront him. She leaned forward instead. “Well, Bennett.” His name rolled off her tongue, something he hadn’t thought possible. She peered at him through her lashes. “If you’re in such a rush, I shall leave tomorrow to sketch butterflies and the surrounding . . . landscape in Midia. I will draw and you can watch over me, and we can both be one step closer to being rid of each other.”

Her words might have duped him if he hadn’t seen her deceive an angry mob and rather adeptly evade an unknown follower all within the space of twenty-four hours. Her change in attitude didn’t bode well. She was plotting something.

Well, he’d be prepared. “We will discuss the rest of my plans on the trip. When do we leave?”

She smiled, a slow, flirtatious smile that would’ve enchanted him if it hadn’t covered a scheme designed to do him ill. “Dawn. We will want do most of our travel before the heat.”

“How many days will we be gone?”

“Two at most. The ambassador will want to show you off at his soiree on Friday.” Her gaze slid down his body. “Do you have something to wear tomorrow that won’t completely betray us?”

He nodded. “Of course. I’ll dress as a civilian unless you prefer me to wear native garb?”

A gust of laughter escaped before she could stop it.

He raised his eyebrow in question.

“I beg your pardon. I don’t think Turkish clothing would render you less conspicuous. English attire will suffice. I don’t want casual observers to know you’re a military officer. You can pretend to be a gentleman.”

Her face was too innocent for her last comment to have been accidental.

“Is there someone who can accompany us for propriety?” he asked.

A calculating light sparked in her gaze.

“Whether there is or not, I will still go with you.” His orders were to keep her alive. He would prefer to keep her reputation intact, but he didn’t know who had followed her this morning or why. Until he did, he didn’t have time to worry about social niceties.

The bridge of her nose wrinkled in disappointment. “My maid will suffice. There aren’t many British citizens in this city to gossip over my actions, and those who are here matter little to me.” Her chin tilted up an inch.

“Good. They matter not at all to me.” What mattered at the moment was finding out what Abington and his cousin knew of the shooting and the man following Mari. There was also the matter of discovering how Mari’s identity had been betrayed in the first place. “Do not attempt to leave your home again today.” He needed to ensure Mari would be safe if he left her.

“I’ll see to my packing, then retire early.” She shrugged in the direction of a closed door.

Her bedchamber, he suspected. A nice, proper English bed with white linens, or a decadent Turkish one adorned in crimson silk?

Bennett reined in his thoughts before images of Mari naked and awaiting him in either room could fully form. “Will you leave this house?”

“Not until you escort me in the morning.”

That would have to suffice. “I will speak to your father before I go.”

She paled. “He doesn’t know.”

Bennett paused by the doorway. “I suspected as much. I mean to ask for permission to court you. It might smooth possible complications before they develop. What do you tell him about your absences?”

As she tipped her face down, a curl skimmed over the curve of her cheek.

“That I’m drawing butterflies. But it isn’t an issue. Even when he is not . . . not like he was yesterday, he’s absorbed in his work. He doesn’t note my departures.”

“Will he see me this morning?”

She nodded, the movement so slight that, if not for her hair amplifying the motion, he might have missed it. “Although he won’t remember you from yesterday. He never remembers. I’ll ask Selim to see if he’s available.”

“Would you like to accompany me?”

She bit her bottom lip. “No, I would prefer not.”

“Do you fear he’ll see through our ruse?”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “No. I refuse to see him behaving as if nothing happened, knowing that in just a few days, he’ll throw everything away again.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll find Selim.”

He might have disliked her false compliance before, but this was worse. Sophia’s eyes had echoed the same hollow expression when he’d tried to convince her she could leave her husband.

Even from their brief acquaintance, he knew how stubborn and determined Mari was. It would have taken a hell of a lot to trample her so completely.

He strode after Mari and caught her arm, then froze, at a loss. She’d despise pity or empty words of understanding.

She glared at his hand, a spark returning to light the green flecks in her eyes. “I thought we were finished.”

“Not quite.” Not until he’d banished the forlorn look from her eye. He tugged a lock of her hair, rubbing the silken strand between his thumb and forefinger. “I wasn’t mocking when I said your curls are enticing. A man dreams of losing himself in hair like yours.”

She backed away, her expression unreadable. Her hand flitted to her hair, then she flicked the errant curl over her shoulder and fled.

Chapter Six

M
ari folded the green gown into the valise. Confound that man. The British really should have sent someone more appropriate. A blackmailer’s enforcer should be ugly, perhaps with a wart and crooked teeth. He should not be gloriously handsome. He should not seem to genuinely care about her safety. And he should not give her maddening compliments about her hair.

“Why do you even bother to employ me?”

Mari dropped the gown and spun around as Achilla entered. “I thought I would save you the trouble.”

Her maid snorted.

“Have I ever let you pack?” Mari asked.

Achilla bumped her out of the way with her hip. “No, and it’s quite lowering. If I actually had to perform the tasks of a normal maid, I would expire from exhaustion.”

Mari grinned. “It’s my ploy to keep you.”

Achilla pulled out the sage dress. “A fiendish plot.”

Mari’s smile faltered. “You really are free to leave if you wish. You aren’t beholden to me.”

Achilla smoothed the creases from the dress and grimaced at the ink stains. “Of course I am. You saved me from being sold again. Although I shall never forgive Selim for bargaining down my price. Down! The man is coldhearted. I don’t know why I tolerate working with him.” Yet her gaze flickered hopefully toward the open door.

Achilla had been with her ever since Mari had purchased the Greek girl and granted her freedom. Did Achilla ever feel strangled by the bond?

“Stop it,” Achilla ordered. “I know that look on your face. I stay with you because I want to. I’m not being forced to stay out of obligation.”

“Still, the similarities with what the British are forcing me—”

Achilla snapped the dress with a flick of her wrists. “Not the same. Where is your major?”

“He is not my major. He’s speaking with my father.”

“So proper. So was I correct about the attractiveness of your major?”

She replied through gritted teeth. “He’s not my major.” She refused to let Achilla catalog the man’s physical charms again. She had enough trouble keeping them from her mind. The broad planes of his shoulders. The strength in his hands. The spicy, masculine taste of his lips. She caught herself before she pressed her hand to her mouth to stop the tingling. “He followed me to Nathan’s.”

Achilla froze mid-fold. “Does Nathan know?”

“Yes.” The traitor. How could he have approved of Bennett? If she told Nathan about the blackmail, his opinion would change. But she could not; she refused to make Nathan choose between his loyalty to his country and loyalty to their cause. It was much simpler to keep that burden to herself. “And I won’t be able to make it to the meeting tonight.”

Achilla grinned. “Why not? The rebels are always seeking new members.”

“My mother believed in taking money from the British, not recruiting them.”

“Why not? At least he’s not another pasty-faced intellectual. Speaking of which, Stephan will be heartbroken that you aren’t there. Now no one at the meeting will listen to his essays on how Greek freedom is foretold in ancient myths.”

The fragility of Stephan’s heart never ceased to amaze Mari. “I won’t be missing long.” Although she wouldn’t mind missing a few more of Stephan’s treatises.

Her maid replaced the gown in the bag. “You have a plan for your major then?”

Mari grinned. “I do. Have you seen my full-sized easel?” True, it wasn’t the best of plans, but it gave her something to occupy her thoughts other than how it would have felt if Bennett’s hand had continued up her side and brushed her breast as they’d kissed yesterday.

“I gave it to Selim to pack away.”

“I’ll go ask—”

“I’ll do it.” Achilla scrambled in front of her, squaring her shoulders. “Then the blasted man will have to acknowledge my existence.”

She returned a few minutes later. “If he has taken to hiding from me, I shall bash him over the head.”

“You couldn’t find him?” That was odd. She had just spoken to him a few minutes ago. In the uncanny manner of butlers, Selim was always exactly where you needed him to be.

“He wasn’t taking tea in to my father?”

Achilla rolled her eyes.

“I know. You checked. Did my father and Bennett seem to be—” She didn’t even know what she was going to ask. Discussing her? Getting along? Mari set down the jar of ink she had been filling. “I’ll look for Selim.”

As Mari walked toward the kitchen, her butler hurried past carrying a tea tray. A small swollen knot marred his left cheek.

She hurried after him. “Selim! What happened?”

Her normally taciturn butler flushed. “It really is quite embarrassing, miss. I tripped over a fold in the carpet. But do not worry, I have attended to the carpet.”

She wanted to press him, but they approached her father’s study. She allowed Selim to continue on alone. Achilla would wring the details from Selim, and then she could wring the details from Achilla.

She turned back toward her rooms. She had no desire to be seen by either occupant.

Yet when Bennett spoke her name, she edged closer, trying to make out what they were speaking of. It couldn’t hurt to know the substance of their talk.

But the thick wall thwarted her, muffling the conversation.

Selim emerged from the room. He inclined his head slightly at the sight of her lingering in the hall but left the door cracked open.

She winked at him as he walked past and leaned toward the open door.

I
n contrast to the elegant simplicity of Mari’s half of the house, her father’s study overflowed with clutter. Broken bits of pottery, stacks of manuscripts, and empty ink jars teetered in various stacks.

Sir Reginald cleared a space for himself at his desk. A piece of stone in front of him momentarily confused him, but he placed it aside and turned his attention to Bennett. “So, Major, sorry to have missed our meeting yesterday. I was unavoidably detained. What was it you wished to discuss?”

Mari had predicted correctly. No recognition shone in the older man’s eyes.

Bennett cleared his throat, a sudden unaccountable nervousness assailing him. Which was quite ridiculous, since this whole relationship with Mari was a ruse. If her father, for some unforeseeable reason, refused him, they’d simply change the plan. “I would like to court your daughter.”

Sir Reginald’s eyes widened and he rubbed his chin, leaving a smear of dust. “My little Mari? Not that she’s that little anymore, I suppose. I assume your budding romance is why she didn’t protest the meeting at the ambassador’s yesterday? I wondered at that, as she’s never been fond of the fellow.”

Bennett nodded. “Indeed.” Not that Mari had gone to their meeting, either, but her father didn’t need to know that. If her father assumed Mari had known him for a while, it would make things run smoother.

“In that case, I’ll do nothing to hinder you.” The older man smiled. “You don’t happen to be an archaeologist as well, do you? I have the hardest time keeping good help for some reason.”

Bennett suspected the reason had to do with the man’s opium use, but he didn’t mention it.

It was quite odd, actually. If not for the sickly cast of Sir Reginald’s skin, it would be hard to reconcile him with the man Bennett had seen yesterday. Today he could have been any of a dozen friendly antiquarian professors.

“Oh well, you can’t be the answer to both our prayers. I assume then that Mari no longer favors that Nathan Smith fellow. He used to be about quite often.”

And was quite familiar with Mari’s portion of the house. Neither Mari nor Abington had answered his earlier question. What had been the nature of their relationship? When she’d started the kiss yesterday, he’d been sure she’d never been kissed before, but by the end he was no longer positive.

Had Abington taught her that passion, or was it fueled by her own natural intensity?

The kiss had shaken him. He loved his family, but over the past years he’d felt more and more distant. Their natural affection and ease with each other, alien. But something in Mari pricked a depth of emotion he no longer thought he possessed.

And wasn’t sure if he wanted to again. He’d tossed his deepest feelings into his poetry where they would never bother him or anyone else. He could restrain them there. A small part of him feared that if they escaped, he and the entire world would go mad.

The servant, Selim, entered the room with tea. He moved stiffly, his formal grace gone. A bruise marked his cheek. Bennett frowned. He’d been fine a short while before.

Sir Reginald shifted in his chair. He tilted his head and stared out the window as Selim placed a cup in front of him. Interesting. Most noblemen failed to notice their servants, but this was different. Sir Reginald was deliberately ignoring his.

Bennett nodded his thanks as Selim handed him a cup as well. The servant assessed him with an unreadable gaze and then backed from the room.

Sir Reginald exhaled and scooped three large spoonfuls of sugar into his tea. He slowly stirred his cup. “Mari is such a good girl. Never any trouble.”

Bennett choked on his tea. He coughed for a good half a minute before catching his breath. “She is indeed a fine woman.” Were they speaking of the same person?

“Although, don’t let her fool you, she has a bit of the firebrand in her. Much like her mother.” Sir Reginald’s eyes misted for a moment.

The ambassador had hinted at gossip involving Mari’s mother. It seemed less distasteful to get the information from Sir Reginald himself. “Mari does not speak about her mother much. What was she like?”

A distant smile crossed Sir Reginald’s face. “Ah, my Helena.” He stared at a spot on the wall with unfocused eyes. Several minutes passed. He reached absently for his tea and knocked over a pot of ink. That jolted him back to the present. “Um, yes. She was Greek, you know. You can see that much in Mari. You’ve heard how we met, no doubt.”

Bennett shook his head.

The man’s melancholy fled. “Quite the story that.” He straightened. “I was excavating a site near Nephases, a hilltop temple as it were. In the valley below, there arose a great commotion. So great, in fact, that even I noticed it. Below us in the valley, a horde of thieves attacked a lone rider. Being young and impulsive, I called to my assistants and rode to the man’s aid.”

He settled back in his chair, excitement lighting his face. The sickness and dissipation fled and Bennett saw the man who’d gallop to the rescue of an unknown soldier. “The thieves shot my horse from under me, but I rolled clear. I got to the lone man just as he used the last of his ammunition. I dropped to his side and fired, taking the leader of the attackers down. My assistants were, by this time, running down the hill. The rest of the villains fled. The man I saved turned out to be Esad Pasha, leader of the sultan’s army. In payment, he gave me one of his virgin slaves, a great honor that. I could hardly refuse. Besides, once I set eyes on Helena I couldn’t condemn her to a life of slavery. She begged me to accept her, and since I couldn’t in good conscience keep a slave, I married her.”

Mari’s mother had been a slave? That explained the ambassador’s innuendos about her background.

“Helena insisted we move to England. I think living here was too humiliating a reminder of her past.”

But Mari had visited the pasha this morning. How could she be friends with the man who’d owned her mother?

Sir Reginald continued, “She embraced English society and the station my lowly title afforded her, used it to try to gain support for her fellow Greeks. I lost her eleven years ago to a lung fever.” The fire inside him extinguished, leaving the husk of a man from the day before.

“When did you return to Constantinople?”

“Later that same year. Mari was twelve.”

“Why did Mari come with you?”

“I sent her away when her mother was sick. I’m still not sure if she’s forgiven me for that. She and her mother were like two sides of the same vase. She hated not being able to be there when her mother passed. I told her I wouldn’t send her away again.” Sir Reginald pulled a decanter of brandy from his desk and added some to his tea. His hand shook as he poured. “She’s all I have left of Helena. I couldn’t leave her. She turned out rather well, if I do say so.”

She had, it seemed. Her art captured life in a way his poetry never could. And as much as she challenged him at every turn, he could not deny her determination or cleverness. So why had she agreed to continue drawing even after being shot at? She was smarter than that. Had her father’s opium habit drained the family coffers? “Times must have been difficult since you returned.”

Sir Reginald looked perplexed. “Not really. Constantinople is quite pleasant and I am close to my work.”

“It seems expensive here, compared to London.”

Sir Reginald chuckled. “She has a dowry, if that concerns you. I am by no means wealthy, but I can provide for my daughter.”

Then why did that daughter insist on risking her life?

The crack in the study door creaked ever so slightly wider. Bennett tensed but forced himself to relax. Risk of ambush was quite minimal. His eyes narrowed. Risk of eavesdropping, however—

“I think Mari has come to join us.”

She muttered a word in Turkish that he suspected was not polite. But she pushed open the door with a smile pasted on her face. “Hello, Father. Bennett.”

Both men rose. Just to rile her, Bennett walked to her side and brought her hand to his lips for a lingering caress. She tried to free her hand but he held fast. “Don’t worry. Your father knows we’re courting.”

“Ah, Mari. He’s quite right. No need to be bashful. I was in love once, too. Where have you been keeping yourself? I haven’t seen you for a few days.”

Mari smiled but her nails dug into Bennett’s hand. “Yes, Father, it has been ages. How is your work?”

“Translations are going well. How are your drawings?”

“I have yet to find the blue-winged
Glaucopsyche melanops
that I have been searching for.”

“You will. I’m sure. You’re not one to let things escape you, even butterflies.” He then shook his finger at her. “Now we both know that’s not why you’ve come. I gave my permission for your major to call on you.”