Belong To Me (book 4) (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (25 page)

Shock entered Ian’s body again. “Are you jesting?”

“While we talked, she called you by your given name as if the two of you had been intimate. She also called the commissioner by his given name.” She paused for only a moment. “Did you know that your secretary, Mr. Stout, goes to see her as well?”

Ian lifted to his full height from the jolt of surprise.
“Ewan?
Was she...um, pleasuring him too?”

Charlotte laughed. “I’m almost certain of it.” He walked to his chair and sat. “So, why is this so important to my case?”

“I believe the
commissioner somehow found out you were
seeing her, and he and Mr. Stout concocted this scheme to set you up. Mr. Stout, being your secretary, has access to your files. He could have discovered Lady
Stringham
has a secret passageway in her house. He could have taken the Pendleton’s key. And the commissioner could have gotten the information about these clients from Mr. Stout.”

She placed her hand on his knee. “Everyone told me the commissioner suggested your name as a suspect—that it wasn’t their idea.” She squeezed his knee. “Ian, the day he tried to force himself on me, he said, ’I’m going to hurt you just as much as your husband has hurt me.’ Doesn’t that sound like a threat?”

Ian rubbed his forehead as he pondered the startling information. Everything Charlotte said fit together, and to think that his wife figured
all of this
out by just talking to three people. She was better at solving mysteries than he thought. Suddenly, his love and respect for her grew to enormous proportions.

He rose, pulling her up with him, wrapping her in his arms. “All right, how do we prove it?”

She shrugged. “That’s something I haven’t figured out yet.” Her face took on a pensive look.

“So, the plan is to get the commissioner to confess.”

“No,” she corrected, “the plan is to find out if Mr. Stout is the commissioner’s scapegoat and see where he’s hidden the evidence.”

Ian’s insides were wrung out. This woman overwhelmed and surprised him, first with her extreme beauty and now with her supreme logic. What was she going to surprise him with next? “How are we going to do that?”

“I’m still working on it. I must get him to trust me somehow. That’s the only way. I know,” she added excitedly, “we can ask Lord Thatcher to help us.”

Jealousy hit Ian again, bringing a tightening pain to his chest. “No. I don’t want to bother him with our problems. Besides, he has helped us out enough by letting us stay here in his castle.”

“You’re correct,” she said sadly, dropping her gaze.

“Charlotte, if I arrange it with Lord Thatcher, would you dine with me tonight, in my room? We’ll dismiss the staff and have a quiet evening, just the two of us.”

* * * *

Charlotte stared at her husband as he waited for her response, and despite his closed expression, she sensed his vulnerability. She knew what was on his mind. She stifled the smile that attempted to lift her lips. They’d been through this so many times before. The question was did she, in spite of everything, still want him to seduce her? Lately, it had been so hard to choose between him and Adam. If Ian had stayed the same selfish, coldhearted man she’d married, she’d have had no problem deciding between the two men. But Ian had changed over the past weeks.

Every day she was with him, he acted different, growing on her in a very comfortable way, actually becoming the man she’d always wanted. She was attracted to both Adam and Ian, but for completely different reasons. Although she was beginning to like Ian more, she didn’t dislike Adam any less and the admission was dredged from a place between logic and reason.

But, the fact remained Ian was her husband. Eventually, she’d have to give in to his lusty desires—and her own. She’d promised him that she would act like his wife for an entire month, and she hadn’t really done it. The pain he’d caused her still hung in her heart like a heavy fog. But thankfully, his kindness had softened her soul more than she’d realized.

“Dinner would be nice,” she answered softly.

Ian kissed her forehead then backed away. “Why don’t you rest now? I’ll go ask Lord Thatcher if he’ll make us a special dinner.”

Nodding, she moved to her bed and sat on the edge. “Then I shall see you tonight.”

“I miss you already.” He winked then turned and left through the secret spot on her wall.

Chapter Thirteen

Charlotte awoke from her nap, yawning and stretching. She quickly rang for her maid. Excitement bubbled inside her now, and the unexpected feeling made her giddy like a schoolgirl. She was actually looking forward to seeing Ian again—and hoping he’d continue with his seduction.

For tonight’s dinner, she picked out one of her more sensual gowns. A velvet green sensation with black lace decorating the low neckline and off-the shoulder sleeves.
Perfect for her mood, teasing, yet not overly so.

Leaving her hair down, she slipped a diamond studded band along her forehead to keep the long mass off her face. She rubbed her favorite aroma on her wrists and neck, and then dabbed a little shine to her lips before leaving the room.

In hopes of finding Ian, she wandered to the kitchen, but once she entered, the startling realization hit her. Subconsciously, she’d been seeking Adam. The moment she spotted him slaving over the hot stove, her heart picked up rhythm. She cleared her throat. Adam looked up at her and smiled.

“Good evening.” Adam’s deep, scratchy voice sent sensual tingles down her spine, just as it had always done.

“Good evening.” She moved toward the stove. “I thought I would see if you needed any help with dinner.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You would like to help me?”

“Yes. If you don’t mind and if I’ll not be in the way.”

“Charlotte, you are never in my way. Come.” She liked the way his dark gaze swept over her dress. His eyes were browner tonight and she wondered if it was because his face was caked with sweat due to the hot stove. But it just wasn’t the color of his orbs that set her heart pounding, it was the way his gaze moved over her with so much emotion. She listened to Adam explain what he was making. He showed her the fancy ways the kitchen servants prepared them, and Charlotte was surprised to see how easy he made it seem.

“Strange, but I never once thought about what the kitchen staff goes through every time they prepare a meal. Now I’ll be more patient with them when an entrée is late.”

Adam watched her in silence for a few more minutes. “So, I suppose your absentee husband is coming around to scratch. I bet he has a perfect seduction planned for you tonight.”

She lowered her eyes. “I wouldn’t know.”

“How is the fugitive anyway?”

She snapped her attention to him. “Adam, he is not a fugitive.”

“What else would you call him? He’s on the run from the law. That makes him an outlaw.”

She frowned. “But Adam, he’s innocent.”

“Do you know for certain?”

She hesitated before answering. “I feel he’s not guilty. Besides, I think we have figured out who’s setting him up. Now we just need to trap the real thief and make him show Ian where he has hidden the stolen items.”

“Who do you suspect?”

Before she could reply, O’Toole stepped into the kitchen. “Excuse me, Mistress, but Mr. Fielding is wondering where you are. Shall I tell him you’re with Lord Thatcher?”

“Is he in his room?”

“Yes.”

“Please tell him I’ll be there shortly.”

O’Toole nodded then left.

Adam looked down at her, his smile gone. “Don’t let me keep you any longer.”

The pain was evident in Adam’s frown and his sad eyes. She didn’t want him to know that she was going to allow Ian’s seduction. But at this point, she still wasn’t too certain about her decision.

She laid her hand on his arm. “Adam, I still don’t know what I’m going to do about Ian.”

He nodded. “Have an enjoyable time with your husband, my dear.”

She dearly wanted to fling her arms around him and kiss his lips, but held back. “Good night, Adam, and I will see you tomorrow.” Her pulsing blood warned her not to stand too close.

Charlotte remained still for a few minutes, waiting for him to do something, say something, but he didn’t, so she turned and left.

* * * *

The room flickered in the light from a dozen candles, and Ian’s spicy scent surrounded Charlotte as she stepped into his chambers. The lace-covered table was set for two with crystal goblets, china and utensils. O’Toole nodded a greeting to Charlotte then busied himself, finishing the last minute touches by lighting the two candles on the table.

She glanced around the room searching for her husband. “O’Toole? Where’s Mr. Fielding?”

“The master left for a moment. Said he had a surprise for you. He’ll be here shortly.”

“I see,” she said.

“Will you have some sherry, Mistress?”

“No, thank you.”

“Then, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll finish helping Lord Thatcher in the kitchen.” He bowed and left the room.

She pushed aside one of the curtains. The silver moon cast tiny trails of light onto the floor. A little further, she opened the window and raised her head, sniffing the cool breeze. Fresh cut grass tickled her nose, and she smiled. Ian’s servants had been working hard on Adam’s grounds, and it thrilled her to think they’d be so generous.

A faint light caught her eye, and then disappeared. The fine hairs of her neck snapped to attention. Someone was below, looking up...watching her.

She stepped away from the window. Who was spying on her?
But more importantly, why?
When she looked back, the dark figure was gone. The longer she waited for Ian, the more anxious she became. She shivered with anticipation and closed the window.

Charlotte paced the room as her mind drifted through the events of the day. They’d accomplished a lot, but still, things were up in the air. When she thought about his disguise this afternoon, she grinned. He’d acted just like a servant. Yet when they were alone in the carriage, he was as attentive as she’d wanted. His casual touches, the tender concern in his voice melted her heart. Gradually, he was turning into the husband she’d always wanted.

The same kind Adam might make. Groaning, she knew she must make a decision.
Ian or Adam.
But she realized her body had already chosen Ian. Each time he tried to seduce her, it became harder and harder to refuse his advances.

“You are breathtakingly beautiful tonight,” Ian whispered from behind her, disturbing her thoughts.

She swung around and faced him, surprised she hadn’t heard him enter the room. She drew her brows together when realizing she’d been facing the door waiting for him.

“How did you get in here? You couldn’t have come through the door because I’ve been standing right here.”

He chuckled. “Remember when I’d mentioned the hidden passageways in the castle?”

She nodded.

“There are more secret doors in Lord Thatcher’s castle than you can possibly imagine.”

She gasped. “Indeed? Will you take me through them?”

“Of course, but let’s wait until morning. I’d hate to have you step on a small furry creature.”

She shuddered.
“A wise decision.”

He looked so incredibly handsome tonight. The deep forest green vest over his white silk shirt accented his face, aglow with desire. His black trouser and over-jacket seemed to glisten in the candlelight.

Her mouth turned dry and she swallowed hard. She wished he didn’t have this kind of effect on her, but watching his gaze boldly scan her face, hair then bodice, made her heart pound with excitement. He took a step toward her and held out a bouquet of flowers.

She grinned. “They look freshly
picked
.”

He chuckled. “They are.” He handed the long stemmed rainbow assortment to her. “These are for you, my sweet.”

She took them and buried her nose in the soft petals. “They smell heavenly. Thank you.”

“Are you ready to eat?” He motioned to the table. “It looks as if O’Toole is ready to serve us now.” Ian offered his elbow, walked her to the table, and seated her. “I hope I didn’t make you wait long,” he whispered near her ear.

Her skin prickled with sensitive shivers. “No. But where were you?”

“Outside.”

She laughed. “Doing what?
Picking flowers?”

“You’ll see.” He grinned.

“So tell me,” she said, placing the flowers on the table beside her and lifting her napkin, “how did you find out about Lord Thatcher’s secret passageways?”

“I actually stumbled across them accidentally. Since I’ve been doing a lot of studying on these older style castles, I read in one of the books that some have secret passageways.” He shrugged. “Because of my curious nature, I searched them out until I found them. One day while in my search, I happened upon one passageway, which led me to look for others.”

“Where does it lead?” she asked before taking a sip of her drink, keeping her gaze riveted to his.