Page 20 of Swindled By a Spinster
“Where am I to meet Lord Archbroke?”
Danny’s lips thinned and then he said, “By the docks.” Her footman led her to a rather large travel coach, with curtains drawn, laden with travel trunks and assisted her up the steps.
Phoebe entered the darkened interior of the coach.
“Welcome, pet.”
“Torrance?” She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the shadows.
A warm hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her inside.
She fell into a man’s lap and the familiar scent of sandalwood and vanilla had her relaxing back against Torrance’s arm which braced her from falling.
Torrance looked downat his wife-to-be in his lap and smiled. He hadn’t a clue as to how to begin to explain the events of the past two days. After their return to London he had been determined to put his activities for the Home Office behind him. A new start. A fresh beginning. Except two days after his return, sitting in his study poring over boring ledgers, he began to fantasize about what he could be doing. Unable to concentrate, he’d ventured to Brooks’, where he bumped into Foxton and Harrington who were wagering on whether or not they believed Middleton would succeed. Harrington, a dual agent for the Foreign Office and the Home Office, was in favor of Middleton’s success while Foxton argued the young agent lacked enough experience to go toe-to-toe with the clever Lady Margaret. Rarely did the head of the Foreign Office agree to collaborate with the Home Office, but as Archbroke explained to him, this was an unusual situation. Torrance had attempted to pay no mind to the mutterings about Lady Margaret and her shenanigans, but admittedly he failed miserably. He couldn’t help but press his ear to a closed door or two if he suspected the woman and her activities were being discussed on the other side.
Phoebe shifted in his lap and the rub of her bottom against him had his cock stirring. “Where are we going?”
“I apologize for not sending you word earlier. We shall not be venturing north for our wedding trip. Instead, Archbroke has arranged for us to tour the Continent.”
“The Continent? Why would Archbroke be arranging… activities abroad are not under Archbroke’s purview…hold on…does this mean you have been reinstated as an agent of the Home Office or have you been recruited by the Foreign Office?”
“Would you be disappointed if I told you I wasn’t an agent for either?”
“Of course I wouldn’t.” She cupped his cheek with one hand and stared into his eyes. “However, I would have to be both mindless and blind not to have noticed you snooping about since our return. Not that I can claim I haven’t been doing the same. It’s unsettling knowing Lady Margaret is out there somewhere and most likely devising yet another scheme. What if she tries to steal the crown jewels again or plans to kidnap someone?”
Oh, his future looked bright indeed. Phoebe was like no other lady. He needn’t have worried about how to explain matters; she already understood.
Torrance kissed her palm and said, “Before we meet with Archbroke, I wanted to ask if you were opposed to being married at sea rather than in a church.”
Eyes alight, Phoebe replied, “Being married at sea sounds like an adventure, and you know how fond I am of those.”
Torrance nuzzled her neck. “Ahmm… I do indeed.”
She tilted her head, granting him better access to the sensitive skin just beneath her ear and said, “I rather like the idea of being married by a captain rather than a reverend. What a grand story we will have to share with our children and grandchildren.”
He pulled back and smiled. “Captain Bane has officiated a marriage or two over the years. And I trust he will get us safely across the channel and back, so we indeed will have a tale to tell.”
“Then that’s that. No need to worry.” She ran her thumb over his lower lip as he had done to her not so long ago. Rather thanletting her continue to tease him as he had her, he closed his lips over the tip of her thumb and captured her wayward digit.
Phoebe pulled back her hand and stared at his lips. “How long until we reach the docks?”
“Not long.”
“Long enough for us…”
Torrance shook his head and sadly said, “I’m afraid not, pet. However, after we are wed, I’m certain Captain Bane wouldn’t be upset nor surprised if we remained in our cabin for the duration of our journey.”
“How many hours will that take?”
“Depending on the winds and the tide, between eighteen to twenty-two hours. Plenty of time…” Phoebe’s cut off the rest of his sentence with a kiss. A kiss that deepened as each second passed. Only when the coach began to slow did she pull back and say, “Eighteen hours alone is not enough.”
The minx never hesitated to share with him what she wanted and it was one of her most endearing qualities. He reached up and attempted to fix her coiffure that he had well and truly ruined. “Not enough?”
“Once we dock in France, we will be busy hunting Lady Margaret down.”
“Apologies, pet. We are not venturing to the Continent on official business. I’m still not an agent for the Home Office nor the Foreign Office. We are simply doing Archbroke a favor while we are on our wedding trip. If our plans by chance overlap with those of Middleton, and we happen to cross paths with Lady Margaret then…that is by pure coincidence.”
Phoebe brow furrowed and she narrowed her gaze upon him. “A favor? For Archbroke?”
