Jenna Petersen - [Lady Spies] (21 page)

“H
ave you ever loved a woman?”

Ben spit a mouthful of whiskey halfway across the room and then turned on his brother with wide, shocked eyes.

Grant stared at him evenly as he held out a handkerchief for his brother to clean up his chin and jacket front. That wasn’t exactly the reaction he’d been expecting.

“What? What?” Ben shook his head as if he didn’t understand the words Grant was speaking. “What?”

“Thank you, I heard your question the first time.” Grant came around his desk and leaned back against the edge. He folded his arms. “And I think you heard mine. You have involved yourself with women in the past and are considered almost as good a ‘catch’ by the Mamas and debutantes as I am. So have you ever felt anything stronger than a passing attraction to any of those women?”

Ben wiped the remainder of the whiskey from his jacket and stared at his brother. “I—Am I to take it from this question that you believe yourself in love?”

Flexing his fingers, Grant stared at the floorboards beneath his feet.

“I need your advice,” he said softly.

“Well, now I’ve heard everything. My elder brother has spoken of love and asked for my assistance in almost the same breath. Has hell finally frozen over?”

Grant shook his head at his brother’s teasing. If only he could find humor in this scenario.

“I’m sorry.” Ben was suddenly serious. “Why do you need my help?”

Grant shifted. “Can I trust you to be discreet?”

His brother’s smile fell and his eyes narrowed. “Must you ask that after all this time?”

“No, of course not.” Grant drew in a deep breath before he blurted out, “We’ve been having an affair.”

“You and Lady Allington?”

Grant pursed his lips. “No, me and the orange girl. Of course with Emily.”

His brother’s mouth fell open. “It has been clear from the beginning that there was a powerful connection between you, but an affair? I wouldn’t have guessed either one of you would go so far.”

“Nor would I,” Grant admitted on a groan. “It wasn’t something I intended. But it is as if we are pulled together by forces outside our control. When I’m near her, I need to touch her. When I think of her, I long to see her. But the night our investigation ended, she walked away from me with hardly a backward glance. And since then, I have ached for her.”

Ben swallowed. “You love her.”

Grant nodded. Hearing someone else say it made the feeling all the more real. Formidable.

“And how do you need my help, Grant? Because I’ve never been in love, myself.”

“How do I stop?” Grant asked.

To his chagrin, his brother started to laugh. “Stop? I don’t think it works that way. You love her…so you love her. You can’t just turn it off, just like you couldn’t keep yourself from turning it on. And pardon my asking, but why would you want to? She’s a beautiful, unique woman with more in common with you than anyone I’ve ever met.”

There was no denying that was the truth. Grant had never known anyone like Emily. Someone who could make him laugh and frustrate him in equal measure. She was a challenge and a comfort. A passionate lover and a good friend.

He’d never felt as strong a connection to anyone as he did to her.

“But if I love her, it gives my enemies power. If they know how important she is to me, they could hurt her in order to reach me,” Grant explained. “I have already caused one woman’s death. If something were to happen to Emily because of me—”

His brother slammed a hand down on the desk top and his normally bright eyes darkened with sudden anger and upset. “You didn’t cause anyone’s death. Davina lost her life a year ago because she was foolish enough to follow you into danger. She was reckless and silly and young. I look at Emily Redgrave, and I don’t see her walking blindly into a firefight, do you?”

Grant grunted out a humorless chuckle. “No, Emily would more likely be firing her own weapon rather than standing in the line of fire. Or swinging a damn parasol.”

“A parasol?” his brother repeated with a furrowed brow.

Grant rolled his eyes. “It’s a very long story. Although the War Department is giving me credit,
she’s
the one who killed Leary. With a…parasol.”

“Really?” Ben nodded, impressed. “Well, it sounds like she might be your perfect match, then.”

She was. It wasn’t even a question any longer. But was that love strong enough to overcome his misgivings and her apparent lack of interest?

“But what do I do about it? She walked away.”

Ben shook his head. “Women are strange creatures. What they do isn’t always indicative of what they feel. And what they say is generally the opposite of what they mean and do.” He shook his head. “Frustrating.”

“So what are you saying?” Grant asked. For the first time in days, a spark of hope flared inside of him. “You think Emily might return my feelings, despite all her actions and words to the contrary?”

“I don’t know,” Ben admitted with a shrug. “But if I
did
love a woman, especially one like Emily Redgrave, I wouldn’t walk away without doing everything in my power to have her.”

“You mean tell her,” Grant said with a frown. “If I do that, there will be no going back.”

His brother got up and clasped a hand on his forearm. “Do you
want
to go back?”

Grant shook his head slowly as he held Ben’s gaze. “No. I just want her.”

“Then get her,” his brother said as he headed for the door. “Just go and get her.”

Lady Westfield poured tea into Emily’s cup, then her own. She set the pot down and leaned back. Emily shifted uncomfortably.

Confronting this woman had been so much easier in her mind than it was in reality. Especially when Lady Westfield was simply staring at her with those eyes that were so like Grant’s. Waiting, watching, devoid of telling emotion.

Was she a fool? Was she imagining things?

And what would happen if she was right about Lady Westfield?

“You seem troubled,” her ladyship said as she took a small sip of tea. Her gaze never left Emily’s face. “And I will admit that your request to meet with me this afternoon was very unexpected, though not unwelcome. Lady Allington, what is it I can do for you?”

Emily moved to pick up her tea, but when she lifted the cup, her hand was shaking so hard she sloshed hot liquid on the saucer. Holding back a curse, she set the cup down again and drew in a calming breath.

There would be no stalling.

“I have always had a great deal of respect for you, Lady Westfield,” she began, wincing when her voice shook as surely as her hand had. “In the years I have been acquainted with you, I have been drawn to your strength and composure.”

Lady Westfield’s brow arched. “You flatter me, child. I thank you for those kind words, but I’m still at a loss for why you needed to express them today.”

Emily sucked in a breath. “In the past weeks, I have begun to wonder if I feel a connection with you for a deeper reason.”

Emily clenched the chair arm, digging her nails into the heavy fabric. If only she could read Lady Westfield’s thoughts, it would be so much easier, but the lady’s eyes remained distant and cloaked.

“My son, you mean?”

Emily flinched. Somehow she’d hoped she wouldn’t be forced to face her troubling thoughts of Grant if she came here. But they followed her everywhere.

Lady Westfield smiled, though Emily hadn’t replied. “Though I was surprised when he arrived here last week with you in tow, I was also pleased. If you two are building some kind of bond, I certainly do not discourage his choice.” She tilted her head and there was a light…almost a
challenging
light in her stare. “Is that what you mean?”

Emily’s breath was harsher now. She could take that statement and back away from this encounter. She could claim Grant was her reason for coming and never ask the question she so longed to know the answer to.

Coward
.

She shut her eyes. “I suppose my”—she searched for a word that didn’t give away too much to Lady Westfield or require any admissions on her own behalf—“
acquaintance
with your son could be part of the reason I feel this bond with you, but I think there is more to it than that. And I believe you know what I’m speaking about.”

Lady Westfield set her teacup down now and met Emily’s eyes evenly. “I’m afraid I’m not totally clear. What is it you wish to say to me?”

“What does the name Lady M mean to you?” Emily choked on the words, forcing them out when she desperately wanted to back away. Run as far as she could. Forget her suspicions.

The other woman’s lips parted. “Why, my husband used to call me Lady M. It was his private term of endearment to me. Grant must have mentioned that to you.”

Emily pursed her lips. Perhaps she was wrong, after all. She could see nothing in Lady Westfield’s behavior or countenance that would betray her secret. But Emily’s intuition nagged. If Lady Westfield wasn’t related to Lady M, then why was she covering her emotions? What would make her use that delicate skill?

“I
mentioned it to him, actually,” Emily said softly. “I know a woman who also goes by the name Lady M.”

Lady Westfield’s smile softened. “Do you?”

Emily caught her breath. For a brief moment she saw a flash of strong emotion on the other woman’s face. Love and pride. Both directed at Emily. But there was no reason for this practical stranger to feel that way for her…unless she wasn’t a stranger at all.

Unless she had been following Emily’s every move for over five years.

Unless Emily’s intuition was entirely correct.

“You are her, aren’t you?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You are Lady M. You’re
our
Lady M.”

Lady Westfield’s eyes misted with tears. “I always told Charlie that one day one of you would determine the truth. And I wagered from the beginning that it would be you.”

Emily surged to her feet, her suddenly freezing hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You are—you are—”

Lady Westfield slowly stood up and reached to steady her. “I am, Emily.”

Emily watched as Lady Westfield’s—
Lady M’s
fingers curled around her hand. She squeezed and a flood of warmth filled Emily to her very toes. This was real, it wasn’t a dream or a fantasy. It was truly happening.

Her heart swelled with a wash of feeling that she’d longed for from her own family her entire life. Tears began to make their way down her cheeks and she didn’t even bother to swipe them away.

“Come here, my sweet girl,” Lady M said as she drew Emily into a hug.

For a long time, they simply held each other as Emily allowed the tears to flow freely and silently. This was Lady M. This was her mentor. The woman she had seen as a mother figure. The woman she had desperately wanted to impress, to make proud. And she was with her, really with her, after all these years.

“Sit down beside me,” Lady M finally said and led Emily to the settee. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders and looked at her with a watery smile, tears sparkling in her eyes. “You must have questions for me.”

Emily chuckled. That was an understatement if ever there was one. A thousand different questions rushed through her mind, but one stood out from the rest.

“Does Grant know?”

Lady M leaned back and genuine surprise crossed her face. Then she smiled softly, as if she knew some secret Emily did not. “No. Grant is very protective of his family, as I’m sure you have seen. He has no idea of my true identity.”

Emily breathed a sigh of relief. If Grant had known all along and not told her, the pain would be too much. But the moment that relief passed, it was followed by a lurch of horror. Now
she
knew this secret. This huge secret she couldn’t keep from him.

“You must tell him.”

Lady M drew back a fraction and shook her head. “No, I cannot. He would go wild with worry. It is better if he never knows.”

“Like you thought it was better for us not to know we were chasing each other around like fools?” Emily asked, surprised by how sharp her tone was with this woman who she worshiped and adored. But the idea that she would keep such a thing from her son, that she would refuse to offer him the respect of the truth after he had proven himself again and again, made Emily
angry
. Grant deserved more.

So much more.

Instead of responding to her snappish question with frustration of her own, Lady M patted her hand.

“You were both out of control, Emily. Surely you can see that now. We hoped if you each had a few weeks to investigate a ‘case’ with no danger that you would be placated. We never imagined you two would go off and uncover a treacherous plot against the Regent. But I don’t apologize for my reasoning. I know you don’t like that answer, but it is the truth. And I admit, I had my own, more selfish reasons.”

Emily’s brow wrinkled. “What reasons?”

“I have watched you for so very long.”

Lady M sighed as she brushed a lock of hair away from Emily’s forehead. The motherly gesture brought new tears to Emily’s eyes, but she blinked them away.

“I have cheered for your independence even when you strayed away from the rules of investigation and drove Charles mad. I have laughed at the scrapes you’ve managed to get yourself in and out of.” Her smile fell. “And when you were shot, I nearly died myself, awaiting the news of whether you would live. I wanted to go to you so very much. I have loved you, Emily, like I love my own daughters.”

Emily swallowed past the aching lump in her throat. “I…felt that. Even though we never spoke. I felt your love. I thought perhaps I imagined it.”

“You didn’t.” Lady M’s smile grew. “With all that feeling between us, is it wrong then that I wished for you to be my daughter in truth?”

Lady M’s words sunk into Emily’s soul and she sucked in a breath of shock. “You—you wanted us to grow close. You wanted Grant and I to—”

“To fall in love, as I believe you have, even though I hear you turned away from him.”

Emily’s eyes widened. Was nothing secret from this woman?

Lady M continued, impervious to her surprise. “To marry, as I hope you will. Yes, I admit that with all my heart. I do not regret that I threw you two together, especially when I see the way my son looks at you with such admiration, such emotion. Those are things he tried to lock away from his heart after that terrible incident last year that sent him into a spiral I feared he would never recover from.”