Once there, she took advantage of the chaos as the chefs put the last touches on the dinner menu to slip through a side door and make her way unobserved to the corridor that ran alongside the back of the building. She had done a bit of reconnaissance when she had reported for her duties earlier, and as such, she knew the rooms in this part of the house would not be used for the ball, making this section the perfect place for a brief rendezvous, if necessary.
Her conscience pointed out that this encounter was risky and hardly necessary. She had not learned anything of importance, despite circulating through the crowd constantly, listening to the conversations. Studying faces, analyzing gestures and movement. Oh, she didn’t expect them to blurt out any revealing details, and she really couldn’t talk to them to try to steer the conversation in any such direction. But she didn’t need an outright declaration. No, she was looking for something subtler. A small sign of unease. A flicker of nervousness. Or perhaps extra alertness. So far…nothing.
If she hadn’t observed anything, she doubted Nathaniel had anything to report either, other than the pitch of Madame Petrova’s shrill laugh, that is.
The corridor was dark and empty, illuminated only by the moon filtering through the open windows on one side. Still, she moved cautiously, staying vigilant, keeping her senses alert to anything and anyone. Ready to dart into the shadows if someone approached. Which was why it was absolutely galling, and totally infuriating, when she almost tripped over Nathaniel, who was lurking in the shadows, quiet and still like a statue.
He put an arm out to catch her, even though she was in no danger of falling.
“Steady there,” he murmured, holding her close to his body. Too close. His nearness was intoxicating.
“Well? Did you wish to talk to me?” There was a smirk in his voice. As if he knew exactly how much he had nettled her and was enjoying it immensely. The wretch.
“Let go of me. I’m hardly in danger of falling,” she protested, pushing against his chest with the last iota of self-preservation she possessed. He let her go easily, and the contact was gone, allowing her scattered wits to gather.
“Do you have any important information to pass along?”
“No. And I’d wager neither do you, preoccupied as you have been with Madame Petrova. Unless she had some intelligence to pass along?”
“I don’t know. You interrupted us before I could tap her knowledge.”
Alice snorted. “I doubt the woman’s dubious knowledge is all you wanted to ‘tap’.”
Nathaniel raised an arrogant eyebrow, his lips curving in a devilish smile. “Jealous?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why the outrage then?”
“The outrage is because we are here to gather information. To find out who was the contact to whom the clerk was supposed todeliver the purloined documents. Charming that floozy is hardly pertinent to our mission.”
There. That ought to set everything clear. She was not jealous. She was just concerned about the mission and his focus.
“For your information, that floozy, as you call her, knows everyone in the Russian diplomatic circles. She’s aware of all the gossip and has a talkative personality. With a little persuasion, she could have revealed some relevant information. At the very least, it could have pointed me in the right direction.”
“Oh? And how far were you willing to go to ‘persuade’ the information out of her?”
“Just a bit of flirtation, Alice. It’s not as if I haven’t done it before. And you as well. We both know it matters not at all. It’s just a means to an end.”
“There are other ways to garner information…” she muttered, but she knew her argument was as flimsy as paper.
“Perhaps. But I saw no reason to waste a perfectly good source when—”
He cut himself off abruptly, putting a finger over his lips to signal silence. His head tilted to the side, listening. She kept quiet and motionless because, if she had the observational skills to know when someone was up to no good, Nate had the sixth sense that alerted him of trouble from any source and any direction. She trusted his instincts.
Without a word, he indicated the door inset in the alcove where they were standing, and silent as a ghost, he pulled them inside and stood behind the door left ajar.
Distant footsteps resonated in the silence of the corridor, making her glad for her husband’s instincts and quick reaction. Maybe they could have explained away their presence in an unused part of the house, but it was bound to look suspicious.
The footsteps stopped a short distance from the door behind which they were hiding. Two men stood just outside—too close,too loud for comfort. For a few tense moments, she thought they might be coming into the room. If that had been the case, their chances of hiding would have been nil. The room appeared to be an office and didn’t have any good places to hide. The most they could have done is to pretend to be having an illicit rendezvous, but even that would stretch believability, given she was dressed like a plain maid, and Nate was a handsome lord in all his finery.
As it was, the relief she felt at not being caught was soon eclipsed by the impact her husband’s nearness had on her. Nathaniel stood so close she could feel the heat of his body, the tension rolling off him in waves. Damn it all to hell, why did he have to affect her so?
Alice plastered her back against the wall, every muscle tight as a bowstring. Nathaniel leaned closer, his forearms pressing against the wall caging her in. At this distance, she could smell the familiar, tantalizing scent of him. That mixture of fresh bergamot and citrus peel, bright and charming like the face he presented to society. But when one stood this close, close enough to feel his breath on her skin, there was the softest trace of leather and spice, sweet, grounding, warm. Elusive as a half-formed thought. It was intoxicating. Sensual. It brought back memories of the old times. The good times.
Her hands fisted on her skirts with the effort it took to suppress the urge to touch him. To set her palms on his lean torso, then send them exploring, sliding around to rove over the long, sculpted muscles of his back. Pull him closer still, until the hardness of his body was pressed against her. The desire was so strong, it left her reeling. She almost didn’t hear the conversation taking place on the other side over the drumming of her own heart.
The door shielded them from view, but the narrow gap between the hinges let her catch flickers of movement in the corridor beyond.
