A Masquerade in the Moonlight(115)
“If that’s an, apology, Marguerite, I accept. And I’m grateful to my Maker that I’m not your enemy. However, my cheek does sting a bit. You refused me once, but perhaps if you were to kiss it now—”
“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Donovan,” she responded, standing up on tiptoe and pressing her cool lips on his still-smarting skin. “There,” she said, stepping back once more, “is that better?”
Donovan grinned. “My cheek is, darlin’, but now there are other parts of me throbbing almost painfully with envy. You don’t suppose we could retire farther down this conveniently dark walk and investigate whatever fastenings there are that are holding that gown so cleverly low on your delightful breasts?”
Marguerite’s eyes were smiling now, all the shadows of hurt and, hopefully, any lingering distrust lost behind their dazzling green fire. “No, Donovan, I don’t suppose we can. But you may partner me as we stroll the grounds, waiting for midnight. I wish to be very nearby dear Miss Rollins when the time comes to unmask.”
Marguerite’s words reminded Thomas of his mission at Vauxhall, and he sighed in real regret. They’d have to get this business of revenges and treasonable maneuverings out of the way, and quickly, or he was soon going to explode from frustration, both physical and mental. “Come on, I’ll take you back to Mrs. Billings before your good intentions about not upsetting her fly to the four winds.”
“Sir Ralph is here, along with Arthur,” Marguerite said conversationally as they made their way back to the Grand Cross Walk, at the very heart of the gardens. “As neither of them usually frequent masquerades, I can only think you’ve just remembered an appointment with Sir Ralph. Arthur is here at the request of his dearest Georgianna, you see—which is the same as to say he’s in attendance at my request.” She sighed, squeezing his hand. “We’re still working at cross-purposes, Donovan.”
He stopped, then stepped in front of her. “Actually, aingeal, we aren’t—not anymore,” he admitted, sensing the time had come for absolute honesty between them—or at least as much honesty as he could give her without frightening her. “I’ve always had my doubts about your members of The Club. I stood back, watching you go about your revenges, just to see how well you succeeded. Think about it, Marguerite. Do I really wish to involve the honor of my country with men who are so inept that they fall like ninepins before the schemes of one small, if delightfully brilliant, young woman? I think not.”
So you’re retiring from the field?” Marguerite asked, her tone hopeful.
“Absolutely. I want nothing to do with their schemes and neither, I’m certain, will my president once I report to him. Although I doubt I’ll inform Harewood and the others of my imminent defection. I do so hate seeing grown men weep.”
“And you won’t interfere with my plans?”
Thomas smiled, shaking his head, impressed by her determination. He decided to be honest with her on that hand as well. “Ah, aingeal, I can’t promise you that. Chorley may be on his way to debtor’s prison, and Totton has probably already boarded ship for the West Indies or some other place where he’s unknown, while I am confident Mappleton is in for some sort of rude surprise later this evening. But, as I said before, Harewood and Laleham are dangerous. Especially Laleham. I’ll watch, as you want me to, but if your plans begin to unravel, I’ll be there to step in. I mean to protect you, whether you want me around or not. Besides—if Harewood and Laleham figure out I’ve decided to drop out of their little game, they might just take umbrage and decide to punish me. I don’t intend to come to a messy end at their hands just when I’ve found my life’s true love. That, and I really can’t leave them lying about at loose ends to think up yet another treasonous scheme, this time with Napoleon, now can I?”
“Don’t worry, Donovan. They won’t be in any position to harm you, scheme at treason, or do much of anything, in fact, once I am finished with them.”
“Really? Of all your attributes, dearest Marguerite, I do believe I admire your modesty most.”
She glared up at him. “You think I can’t do it by myself? That I am incapable of destroying them? That’s what you’re saying, Donovan, isn’t it? Well, let me tell you something. I’ve handled them so far, and I can—”
She was growing angry again, and Thomas decided he’d been slapped enough for one evening. He pulled her up against his chest with enough force to silence her, then lowered his head and slanted his mouth against hers, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as she immediately slipped her arms around his waist, allowing him to win this one argument.