Behind the Marquess's Mask (The Lords of Whitehall Book 1) (28 page)

“Wheeling kidnapped Lady Ainsley and tried to fillet her. These two were his,” Nick explained, pointing to the bodies on the floor. “Turns out, Bexley was a pawn.”

“That explains a few things,” Saint Brides muttered. “Where is Wheeling?”

“There.” Nick pointed to a moaning lump several feet behind Kathryn. “Ainsley nicked his arm, I believe.”

“Nicked!” Wheeling screeched from where he lay on the floor, clutching his arm. “He put a hole clean through it!”

Nick flashed a satisfied grin at Saint Brides.

“All right, men!” Saint Brides called disdainfully. “Restrain Mr. Wheeling and take him to Whitehall.” He turned to the two other men on the ground. “Do something with these two, as well.”

Whilst Saint Brides was issuing orders, Grey untied Kathryn with astonishingly steady hands.

“You came for me.”

Grey glanced up from the knotted strips of cloth around Kathryn’s ankles. Giant, blue pools were closely watching him from under a mess of auburn hair coming undone from its pins and falling to her shoulders.

“Of course I came,” Grey said soberly. “I have resolved myself to the fact my lot in life is chasing after you for one thing or another.”

He set his hands to deftly work out the knots of his cravat and wrap it about her neck. It was the only way he could keep them from picking out what was left of her hairpins and plunging into the silken waves, which led to thoughts of kissing her senseless, which then led to the sort of thoughts that kept him up at night, frustrated and hard as a poker. He needed to focus on something else before he stooped to ravishing his wife on a storeroom floor.

“Thank you,” she muttered on a shaky breath.

Grey frowned as he glanced back toward the door to the street, which was a good thirty feet away. Once she walked out that door, he would never see her again.

He couldn’t let that happen.

In one swift motion, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked the other under her knees, lifting her effortlessly. She gasped, but she didn’t kick, hit, or scream. Even if she had, he doubted he would have let her go.

Just holding her calmed his nerves more than anything ever had. Fighting, scotch, being sent on a hopeless mission—none of them did near as much for him as this.

Something deep inside felt lighter, as if the sun was peeking through the black abyss that was his life, and with it came bright, summer days, cool breezes, and flowers—lilies.

“Grey, he scratched my throat,” she said stiffly. “My legs work just fine.”

His gaze slid down to her neck and the small, red blotch on his cravat. She was lucky these cuts weren’t deep enough to scar or worse. How easily he could have found her the next morning, nicely packaged and sliced to bits. His stomach clenched.

“I shall find you no matter where you go, so you might as well stay. You need me.”

“I am hardly in need of a controlling ogre like you,”
Kathryn scoffed.

“You are constantly charging headfirst into an adventure. Who other than me could possibly keep up with you?”

Kathryn’s eyes flashed. “You mean bullyrag me until I become the perfectly behaved wife I ought to be? No more adventures. No more pushing boundaries.”

“I have been an ogre, but only because I wanted to keep you safe.” A small, crooked smile pulled at his lips. “To think, I have been dreading marriage all this time because I thought all gently bred ladies were dull and predictable, and all the while, you were right under my nose.”

“
Dull and predictable
.” She shuddered, her eyes focused somewhere on his neck. “That is precisely the reason I never wanted to marry.”

“Oh, Kathryn,” Grey mused tenderly. “There isn’t a man alive who could make you dull and predictable. The poor fool would be committed to Bedlam before the honeymoon was over.”

“You gave it go.” She watched him accusingly. “I don’t see you getting carted off.”

She was right. He was such a bacon-brain. What he had mistaken for a thorn in his side was what he had wanted—needed—his entire life. He had tried so hard to turn her into his expectation of what she ought to be—the very thing he could not abide—when it was himself, he had truly wanted changed.

“I am a lumbering, thick-headed ogre boob,” Grey said dryly. “I don’t have the sense to go to Bedlam.”

Kathryn’s eyes narrowed in silent agreement.

“I am not claiming to be perfect by any means, but I have changed.” He only hoped it wasn’t too little, too late. Without her, change was meaningless.

“You have changed what?”

* * *

K
athryn could name
several things that were exactly the same. Grey was still made of solid muscle, and his touch still had her heart jumping out of her chest. His black waves still fell in a perfectly tousled mess over his brow in the same fashion, no matter how many times he ran his hands through them. Kathryn was sure there were several gentlemen profoundly jealous of that romantic-looking mop.

She still loved him.

“I suppose I should say you have changed me.” He smiled crookedly. “Furthermore, I won’t even complain about it.”

Kathryn’s jaw clenched with frustration. He was
mocking
her?

“I have retired from my work at the Home Office,” he continued deliberately as his smile faded. “I intend to stay in London for the season only to sit in Parliament. I shall spend the rest of my time in the country or my holdings in Italy. I am not fond of London winters.”

Kathryn watched him warily. If she was not dead, and this exchange was truly happening, then the alien inhabiting her husband’s body was truly capable of anything.

“Which means I have also reformed,” he went on with a knit brow. “I was never fond of my reputation. Now that it’s no longer required of me, I may live as honorably as I please.”

Kathryn raised both brows. “How inspiring.”

“It’s true.” His throat worked. “And all of it means nothing without you, Kathryn. I promise life with me will not be dull. I plan to keep you very busy. I figure that’s the only way to keep you from pursuing your own adventures.”

Kathryn leveled him with a cool gaze. “The only way to keep me out of trouble, you mean.”

Grey suddenly smiled crookedly, and Kathryn’s heart flipped in her chest.

“The Almighty, the Devil, and all the powers that be couldn’t keep you out of trouble, Kathryn.”

He was smiling, the provoking man! How dare he use such underhanded tactics? And black licks of hair were falling into his eyes. No doubt, he desperately wished he had a free hand so he could pull them back.

It was distracting. Someone had to do something about it.

Kathryn reached up and delved into the luxurious tangles. She combed her fingers all the way to the back of his head, surprised to find it was barely tangled at all. In fact, it felt incredibly soft.

“I love you,” he breathed thickly, drawing her attention back to the pair of gray eyes intently fixed on her.

Kathryn’s heart stopped. Then it started again at an alarming speed. Her hands trembled as they clutched his hair.

“Do you love me?” He faltered, taking a deep breath. “Could you ever love me?”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and a lump was forming in her throat. “Yes,” she whispered. “I do.”

He let out a whoosh of air and covered her mouth with his, his tongue gliding inside to mingle with hers in a heady mixture of brandy and male. He groaned as his arms tightened around her, sending familiar licks of desire straight to Kathryn’s core.

All too soon, he pulled away.

“Let’s go home,” he panted out with a heart-stopping grin. “I have a lot of mistakes to make up for, and I can hardly do that properly in a dark and bloody storeroom.”

* * *

“
S
orry
if I am a bit late, Ainsley. I came as soon as I got that note…” Saint Brides’s words faded as Grey strode past him with his wife in his arms, disappearing through the open doorway, foolishly besotted-looking, the both of them.

Nick stood by Saint Brides, grinning after the oblivious couple.

“Where the devil is he going?” Saint Brides scowled at the empty doorway. “The paperwork for this is going to be monstrous.”

“Oh, I am afraid you will be shifting through that mess yourself,” Nick predicted. “Ainsley will be far too busy for paperwork, and I shall be leaving for France. Father left me with my own demons to face.”

Saint Brides turned his black look to Nick. “You cannot be serious.”

Nick laughed, clapping a hand on Saint Brides’ shoulder. “Deadly so, I am afraid. But don’t worry about the report. Just fill in the holes with whatever sounds believable. That’s what we always did.”

“Pembridge,” Saint Brides growled with surprising patience, “that is not how these things are done.”

“Steel Breeches,” Nick drawled as they headed for the door. “If we wrote down the truth in every report, you would end up with a filing cabinet full of fairy tales and an office full of knights.”

K
athryn's pulse
kicked up as she peeked around the corner. The night was dark, but she could still make out the stone walls and stacks of crates, if only just. She could also see the hefty bruiser prying open a crate full of ore belonging to one of Grey’s friends. Prichard, if she wasn’t mistaken.

“Do you know what to do?”

The masculine rumble from behind her sent shivers of awareness over her skin. Sometimes, she wondered if he sounded sensual on purpose just to fluster her. She was already itching to be home, in bed. Now she was on the verge of disappointing the beautiful man and abandoning his dratted adventure by shoving him back into their carriage in favor of an entirely more pleasurable activity.

“Yes, Grey,” she replied, glancing back at him with an arched brow.

He returned her expression mockingly. “And do you intend on following orders this time? Or shall I assume we are abandoning our long, thought-out plan, and simply winging it—
again
.”

Her lips stretched into a sweet smile. “Of course I shall follow your orders,” she cooed. “You are the experienced one, after all.”

Grey’s expression turned doubtful as she brought herself up onto her toes and kissed his cheek.

“Uh-huh,” he grunted, affection glinting with suspicion in his gray eyes.

Kathryn turned on her heel and stepped out into the street, but she was not fast enough. Large hands grabbed her waist, pulling her back and pinning her to the wall.

Grey pressed the length of his lean, muscular body hard against her and lowered his head, stopping a hairsbreadth from her mouth. His hot breath fanned over her, igniting a need that pooled at her core. Every cell tingled with anticipation.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmured.

“I know.” Kathryn smiled knowingly. “Are you ready to admit you set this up?”

His brow furrowed, but his mouth curled with amusement. “Kate, how could you say such a thing?”

“You set
all
of them up, don’t you?” Kathryn did her best to look cross, but her knees were becoming weak, and his smile was contagious and delicious-looking.

“If I did, who could blame me?” he murmured, raking her with a heavy-lidded gaze. “Our son is a lovable hellion, but he needs a brother to keep him company, which cannot happen if you are dead.”

Kathryn sighed. She had suspected this for years, but he had seemed so pleased with himself she hadn’t the heart to call him out on it. Now that she was expecting another child, perhaps it was time to confine her adventures to home life. Heaven knew that gave her plenty!

“I think we should stop these adventures,” she muttered.

His smile vanished. “But you will be driven to distraction without them. You love them.”

“I love you,” she corrected, feeling a blush creep up her neck to her cheeks. She settled her hand protectively over her belly. “Anyway, if this turns out to be another boy, I shall have my fill of adventure whether I want it or not.”

Grey stared back at her in anguish. “Again? I wasn’t serious, Kate.”

Kathryn’s eyes widened. “Grey!”

He chuckled as his hands tightened around her waist. “Truly?”

Kathryn nodded, her eyes filling with tears that sprang from a fullness of joy she could never have thought existed five years ago.

He grinned. Then his mouth was sliding against hers with all the love and tenderness she knew he held for her.

She kissed him back and laughed. She couldn’t help it. She was deliriously happy, and her husband was lifting her into his arms and carrying her to their carriage. And unlike the first time he had put her in a carriage, she knew precisely what his intentions were.

They were the same as hers.