Chapter 6 #2
What sort of ruse would he use to provide them with a moment to talk in private? Unless they wanted to remove themselves from the public rooms, privacy would not be easy to come by. No matter. He would find the time and place when he saw fit.
Her senses prickled with awareness, sensing he was near again. She nodded to the rather imposing figure of a gentleman dressed as Zeus, offered a polite smile, and then did a double take as she thought she recognized Dalton in the guise of King of Olympus.
Wanting to confirm her suspicions, she excused herself from her current group. Turning, she took a step…and almost collided with the dark figure of Nathaniel.
“Persephone,” he said, raking her with a thorough look.
It was for the benefit of others; if they were going to be seen conferring in private, everyone should believe they had libidinous purposes, but she didn’t think it was much of a stretch for them to play the part of lustful lovers. “May I steal you away for a season?”
“But it is not yet winter, Hades,” she replied, following the pretense.
“It is always winter in my palace. Only you bring spring and life to my desolate realm. Maybe I could hope to convince you to stay with me for a while.”
Her gut clenched. He was merely referencing the legend and spouting double entendres because that’s what was expected of this place. And yet, his words seemed to be flowing straight from his heart. Speaking to hers. They brought home just how much they resembled the legendary mismatched couple.
Smiling seductively to cover how shaken she really was, she placed her gloved hand in his outstretched one and allowed him to lead her out of the ballroom. Just outside, in the hallway, a few people walked by; some climbed the stairs in pairs, or threesomes…or groups.
Walking a few paces down the hallway, he led her into a small niche under the staircase.
The space was occupied by an erotic statue of a naked man and a woman in a suggestive embrace—all the artwork in this place seemed to be expressly designed to inflame the passions—but there was space for them behind the statue.
They wouldn’t be concealed from anyone who walked by the hallway, but at least they would enjoy a modicum of privacy.
Positioning her with her back against the wall, he braced a hand near her head and leaned in. However, before he spoke, she asked, “Was that Dalton?”
Nathaniel’s lips twitched. “Dressed as Zeus? Yes, that’s him.
Good eye spotting him. The man is nearly unrecognizable.
He was on the way to the card room to scout that area.
Trying to avoid the most salacious entertainments of the club, no doubt.
He’ll soon discover there’s no escaping debauchery within these walls.
” He brushed his lips against the whorl of her ear as he whispered, “Have you located any of our targets, Persephone?”
His nearness made her heart trip over itself and stutter, the scent of his cologne, threaded with the subtle essence of him filled her nose.
The warmth of his body, so close to hers, seared her front.
She ached to place her hand on his chest, feel the hard contours, slide it lower, to another sort of hardness, and then close her fist around it.
The atmosphere of this place was surely affecting her, for she couldn’t control her libidinous thoughts.
Alice hoped her inner turmoil was not evident in her voice as she responded.
“Not yet. I think I’ve conversed with everyone on this level, and I’m reasonably confident he’s not here yet.
No sign of any pregnant woman either. Or even a corpulent one. How about you?”
“Same. I’ve covered the second floor. It’s more difficult to do reconnaissance there, for that’s where the bedchambers are. But I’ve peeked into each one, and none of them contain our man or the widow.”
He said this against her neck, grazing her earlobe with his lips, provoking pleasure to shoot through her body. She knew it was all a performance, but her knees nearly buckled under the surge of desire. It was an effort to gather her wits to reply.
“Maybe the widow won’t be in the main rooms. I’ve been thinking; the clerk and his wife were not rich. They would not have access to an exclusive club such as this one. Maybe she knows someone among the staff.”
“Perhaps. Or it could be that the higher-ups arranged for their admission to make the deliveries.”
“Either way, we need to search the staff corridors and the kitchen.”
“We will.”
His heated gaze made her face warm. They were standing too close.
She turned her face, took a deep breath to try to regain the control this close proximity with her husband was having on her…
just in time to catch a flicker of movement at the end of the corridor—a flash of a familiar figure.
Dalton. He strode past with the silent urgency of a predator, his gaze locked ahead.
“Dalton, he’s chasing someone,” she murmured.
Nathaniel tensed, his hand tightening slightly at her waist. It was obvious he had seen Dalton walk by as well.
“Let’s go,” he replied, grabbing her by the hand and towing her behind him.
They slipped from the alcove as one, moving like shadows against the velvet-draped walls.
Alice’s pulse thudded in her ears, her senses sharpening as they fell into the rhythm of pursuit.
Ahead of them, Dalton cut a striking figure in his dark coat, his purposeful strides silent on the thick carpet.
“I spotted her in the card room,” Dalton murmured over his shoulder as they caught up to him at a junction of two dimly lit corridors. “Gray cloak, low hood. She slipped out just as I entered. Come.”
They didn’t need further prompting. Together, they swept down a narrower hall, the air cooler here, scented faintly of polish and candle smoke. The woman’s cloak swirled at the end of the passage—a fleeting glimpse of motion that drew them on.
Alice gathered her skirts in one hand, careful not to trip as they took a sharp turn into another hallway.
The din of music and laughter grew fainter behind them.
Nathaniel’s hand brushed her elbow briefly, steadying her when her hem snagged on a protruding nail in the floorboards.
She yanked it free, muttering a curse under her breath.
“There—she went through that door,” Dalton shouted back, a few paces ahead of them.
The door swung shut just as they reached it.
Dalton’s fingers closed around the brass handle, shoving it open once more.
Cold night air met them. The door led to a narrow service alley, lit only by a distant gas lamp where the alley joined the street beyond.
The widow’s gray cloak was already a fleeting shape in the gloom, her hurried steps uneven yet driven by sheer desperation.
They broke into a jog, skirts and coats flaring behind them.
Even from here, Alice could see the swell beneath the fabric of her cloak.
Pregnant—and heavily so, by the look of it.
Another figure was giving chase ahead of them—a stocky man in a dark jacket. One of the club’s guards, by his livery. But even his longer stride failed to close the gap as the widow darted toward a waiting hackney at the mouth of the alley.
Nathaniel swore under his breath. “How in God’s name is she moving so fast?”
“Desperation,” Alice said tersely. She felt it like a punch to her ribs—this woman was terrified, and terror lent wings.
She almost hurled herself inside the carriage, slamming the door. They ran faster, but were too late.The hackney’s driver flicked the reins sharply, and the carriage clattered away into the fog.
Dalton halted, letting out a sharp curse, and turned back to them, his voice low but clipped with frustration. “I’ll follow her. You two—back inside. Find the Russians and keep an eye on them. They can’t be allowed to intercept her.”
Alice nodded sharply, already swallowing her disappointment. “Understood.”
Nathaniel gave a terse inclination of his head, his gaze lingering for a heartbeat on the disappearing hackney before he turned back toward the door.
As Dalton vanished into the night, hailing another hackney to give pursuit, they turned back to the club. Only to find the stocky figure of the guard, scowling at them suspiciously.
“What is your business with that woman? Why were you chasing her?” he asked, planting himself in front of the door, blocking their passage.
Putting a hand on Nathaniel’s arm to avoid confrontation, she donned her most earnest expression.
“We mean her no harm. In fact, we are her friends.”
“Didn’t look like that to me. Looks like she was running from the lot of you.”
To her surprised approval, Alice realized two things at once.
One, this club had great security, and while hedonism and debauchery were encouraged, it seemed the guards posted at every entrance and throughout the various rooms of the house were there to ensure the safety of all.
And second, this guard would not allow them back inside unless they convinced him they meant the woman no harm.
“I assure you that is not so. We merely wished to protect her.” Alice dropped her voice to a conspiratorial tone.
“You see, her husband was inside, and she didn’t want him to spot her, so she ran.
We chased her to lend our help, offer to take her home, but she didn’t see us.
Our friend there followed her to make sure she gets home safely. ”
The guard still didn’t look convinced, but he hesitated.
“See here,” Nathaniel intervened in haughty aristocratic tones. “While I commend you for your zeal, we have done nothing wrong, and now we wish to return to our own revels.”
From behind the mask, Nathaniel impaled the guard with a frosty look, and the man reluctantly stepped aside and allowed them in.