Deceiving The Duke (Scandals and Spies Book 2) (23 page)

N
ot wanting
to let her go even for an instant, Morgan nestled Phil against his side as they mounted the stairs to his townhouse. Their steps, along with Gideon who trailed them, were leaden. If it wasn’t near to four of the morning, Morgan would eat his socks.

Candles were aglow in the entryway, though the butler was not at his station. The moment Morgan unlocked the door and led the way inside, Jared stopped pacing the interior. His hair stuck up at all angles.

“There you are! It’s about time.”

Morgan swayed on his feet, the night catching up to him. “The damned Runners wanted to take Gideon
and
his man away. It’s hard to bribe a patrol with only the shillings in your pocket.”

Phil patted his arm. “We convinced them we were working for the Crown.”

“Yes, but only after we were detained for a few hours.” Morgan sighed. He resisted the urge to rub the streak in his hair. It would involve releasing Phil, and that he absolutely refused to do.

He led the way into the parlor, so they could rest their weary legs. Without asking, Jared poured out four tumblers of brandy and passed them around. No one protested the offer of spirits. Morgan sipped on his as he settled against the arm of the settee, Phil’s warm body at his side.

“What did Strickland say?” Morgan asked when he caught a second wind.

Jared, slumped in the nearest armchair, shrugged and rubbed his eyes. “He was sorry not to be able to interrogate Lady Whitewood straight off, but the physician said she would be conscious before long. Strickland told me to await instructions from her replacement.”

Beside Morgan, Phil tensed, but she didn’t say a word.

He asked, “Then you intend to become a double agent?”

The young man scowled. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“You did, but I won’t hold you to it if you’d like to back out.”

“Strickland might.”

Morgan straightened, trying to infuse his stance with as much authority as he could, given the circumstances. “Let me deal with Strickland.”

Jared knocked back the last of his brandy and set the glass on the table. “I want to do this. It’s important work.”

It was. Morgan rubbed at Phil’s shoulder as her muscles bunched, trying to help her to relax. To her brother, he said, “You proved your mettle tonight. But if you’re going to do this,
I
will be training you.”

Jared frowned. “You train spies?”

Morgan chuckled under his breath, but he couldn’t muster much mirth, given the scare he’d had tonight. “It’s what I do best. You’ll be in good hands.”

Beside him, Phil straightened. “If Morgan’s to train you, then
I’ll
outfit you.”

He turned his head to look her in the face. Her mouth was set, determined. Her eyes glinted. “What do you mean?”

“My inventions can be useful.”

“You’ve proven that already,” he said, his voice dry. “I doubt Strickland will turn you away.”

“Good.” She raised her chin. “Jared’s the only family I have, and I’m going to see him safe.”

He was safe, wasn’t he? Somehow, Morgan and Phil had managed to get him out from under the threat of the hangman’s noose for treason. That meant… Morgan wouldn’t have to do something that would make her hate him.

He thrust his drink onto the table and slid off the settee, onto one knee. He transferred his hold from around Phil’s shoulders to her hand.

“He doesn’t have to be. I could give you more family than you can handle. Marry me?”

His stomach shrank as Phil frowned at him. That was not the look a woman should wear when she accepted a proposal from the man she loved. She wasn’t going to laugh in his face again, was she?

“Now?”

One single, incredulous word.

He cleared his throat. “Well, not this exact moment. I’ll need to procure a special license first.”

She smirked. “No, I mean you’re asking me
now?
We’re sweaty and filthy and I…I killed a man tonight.” Her voice warbled, but she firmed her chin, looking brave.

He squeezed her hand. “And you’re still the most beautiful and intelligent woman in the world to me. I’m seizing the moment, like you taught me. Jared is finally out of immediate danger and I can look to the future.” He raised her hand to his lips. “I can’t envision a future without you by my side. Will you marry me?”

She nibbled on her lower lip. “When you put it that way… Yes. Of course. I love you, Morgan.”

He leaned forward, murmuring, “I love you, too,” a moment before he melded his mouth to hers.

Jared made a retching sound.

Gideon laughed.

Ah, family.

When they parted, Giddy said, “Lucy is going to be green with envy over missing this. Promise me you’ll make it a long engagement. And have many children. Between planning the wedding and doting on babies, that should keep Mother and Lucy occupied enough that they won’t turn to harassing
me
next.”

Morgan smirked and shook his head.
I wouldn’t count on that.
He slid back into the seat next to Phil.

A squawk sounded, followed by the stomp of feet on the stairs. “It’s the middle of the bloody night. I do
not
want to take a walk now.”

Lucy, her dressing gown agape over her nightgown and her hair in a loose braid over her shoulder, paused in the doorway to the parlor. “What’s going on here?”

Gideon grinned. “Morgan and Phil are getting married!”

Lucy squealed so loud, she woke the house.

F
our months
later

M
organ stretched
his neck in the chair at his desk in the St. Gobain townhouse. When he had moved into the house with Phil, since the Tenwick townhouse was a tad full and he didn’t have room to create a secret invention room in it, he’d brought over his study desk and chair with him. With the little devices Phil left on his desk from time to time as gifts, the study was starting to feel more and more like home.

He blotted the deciphered report with sand—the latest progress report from Giddy’s fieldwork—and set it in the pile to send to Strickland. Lady Whitewood was well on her way to recovery and would soon even be able to sit without a pile of pillows to cushion her. Unfortunately, she couldn't be persuaded to give them any information on the French spy network. Strickland wanted Morgan to figure out a way to get her to loosen her tongue and he thought he had an idea that might require Gideon's expertise. Ever since Tristan had returned from his honeymoon, Morgan had gladly retreated behind the desk. Not only did it keep him out of the excitement of the field, which he no longer felt as exciting, but he was never more than a floor away from Phil, also hard at work during the day.

Dimly, he heard a squawk of, “Pickle!” along with Meg’s shriek.

Morgan grinned. This was his life now. It wasn’t nearly as peaceful as he might have pictured it, but it was full and happy. Every day was exciting, thanks to Phil and the new family he’d inherited when he’d married her. The staff, especially the O’Neills, didn’t give a fig’s end that they now worked for a duke and duchess. To them, he was still ‘lad’ to the older staff or ‘sir Giant’ to the little ones. He loved it.

He glanced at the grandfather clock stuffed in the corner of the study, wondering if it was too soon to entice Phil to take a break for lunch. He hadn’t seen her for well over an hour, and he missed her. Odd, considering she was only upstairs in her invention room, but it was true.

A strange whirring, flapping noise grew nearer as Morgan stirred. She must have had the same idea. He rounded the desk and leaned against it, wondering what she had for him now.

The contraption was a metal-and-canvas bird with wings that flapped. Although it miraculously stayed aloft, it had no sense of direction. Morgan lunged to save it before it crashed into the bookcase. The wings continued to flap, slowly winding down. Between them was a small wicker basket. Fishing the small bundle out of the basket, he set the invention on the shelf as he unwrapped his gift.

They were a pair of small light-enhancing goggles. He grinned, holding them up to try to peek through the lens even though there was far too much light streaming through the window.

Phil stepped into the doorway, her figure accentuated by the plain black dress she often wore to work. It looked a bit tighter than usual across her chest and hips. As she flashed him an impish smile, his heart skipped a beat. No woman could possibly be as beautiful as his wife.

Giving in to impulse, he crossed the room to pull her against him and kiss her, slow and thorough. With a sigh, he rested his forehead against hers.

“I missed you.”

She chuckled. “I saw you an hour ago.”

He grinned as he parted from her. “It seemed more like an eternity.”

Pickle squawked, announcing his arrival in time for Morgan to step back and avoid being whacked in the head. The bird settled onto his usual position on Phil’s shoulder and cleaned his claws.

Morgan glared at him. What a hog. He got her all day long.

Turning over the goggles in his hand, Morgan asked his wife, “You finished them?” She’d been working night and day, certain she was close.

Her smile grew. “I did. Do you like them?”

He wanted to sweep her into his arms, but was afraid of disturbing the parrot. The last time he had, Pickle had left an unpleasant surprise on Morgan’s desk. “I love them, but my dear, they’re much too small to fit me.”

“They aren’t for you. They’re for the baby.” She laid her hand on her stomach.

“Do you mean—” His breath caught. He stepped closer, startling the bird on her shoulder and earning a buffet from his wing.

Phil nodded. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m pregnant.”

Pickle launched into the air with an indignant squawk as Morgan wrapped his arms around his wife. His pregnant wife. They were going to have a baby.

Oh, Lud, they were going to have a baby. Morgan didn’t know the first thing about infants. What if he was a horrible father? What if his son tried to do one of the hundred reckless things Morgan had as a child? Worse, what if he had a daughter and she took after Lucy?

Phil rubbed Morgan’s back. “I can feel you worrying. Stop it. This is a good thing. We’re going to have a family!”

He hugged her tighter. “We already have a family, my dear. But I am so incredibly happy that it will be growing. And scared.”

She pulled back to rub the furrow between his eyebrows. “You’re going to give yourself more gray hairs.”

Deeper in the mansion, Pickle called out, “I’m pregnant! Pregnant Pickle!”

Morgan smirked. “Well, that’s one way to break the news to the staff.”

Phil grinned. “Imagine when we tell your family.”

Mother and Lucy would probably try to move in with them.

With a wicked smile, Phil shut the door and leaned back against it. “Why don’t we celebrate while we still have a modicum of privacy?”

That, he wouldn’t turn down. “You were away for an eternity.”

“An hour,” she said with a laugh.

He stepped closer to kiss her. “To me, they are the same thing.”

She gasped as he brushed his lips over her throat. Clutching his shoulders, she murmured, “Then it’s a very, very good thing I only work upstairs.”

H
ave
you read the rest of the Scandals and Spies series?