Page 1 of Buon Natale, My Wicked Rogue
Chapter One
Could this beautiful woman really be a cunning, dangerous spy? Or was she merely an enchantress? Evan, the Earl of Ashington, was already falling under her spell.
In the mellow rays of the waning sunset, her bouncing, deep sable brown ringlets glittered with just a touch of coppery highlights as she ran to catch the green hat the wind carried further away from her. That dyed wool, of such a subtle shade somewhere between jade and pine green, revealed the expense of the otherwise plain design. A ribbon of the same color and two black feathers were the only adornments.
In his hidden spot behind the hedge, Evan leaned back against the tree trunk and tightened his hand on the spyglass as his breathing increased considerably. Her gown, the same shade as her hat, clung tight around her waist. A waist narrow and well-defined that flared out into a skirt just a tad fuller than was stylish among Englishwomen of her means. A flaring that hinted at curving hips...
Evan shook himself.Focus.
It didn’t matter that she was the most gorgeous sight he’d seen in a long time.
He had a job to do. That was why he was here, sneaking around the hedges like a common criminal on the outskirts of Whitestone Manor, near the village of Watson, in southeastEngland. It was the ancestral home of one of his friends, the Earl of Barnet.
With some difficulty, he forced himself to continue analyzing the less salacious aspects of Mrs. Berry’s appearance. A plain black pelisse folded over her one arm as she reached for the wayward hat. The outer garment’s relatively lightweight appearance told of her probable tolerance for colder temperatures than here in the south of England. Even her gown, the same shade as her hat, bore no embellishments, which made sense. The lady was American. A staunch Congressionalist. Modest, industrious, devoted to her late husband’s family. To the family business.
Just how devoted? Were there limits to what she would do? Was her trip to England an attempt to spy on British factory practices and inventions and take those secrets home to help the former colonists build their industry?
Yes, he certainly had a task before him. It was up to him to get close to her, intimately so, and to discover her real intentions. Seducing a pious little Puritan had held little excitement. Yes, he’d been told she was beautiful. But now that he had seen Mrs. Angela Berry for himself, this was becoming another matter. Yet, he could not allow the strength of his attraction to distract him from his true intent.
She bent to grasp the hat and placed it on her head. She turned, revealing her oval face with high cheekbones, and her lush red lips spread in a wide grin that showed her white teeth. Her complexion appeared warm beige, turning rosy in the glow of the setting sun. The high color in her cheeks was likely from the chilly air. Again, he noted that gorgeous shade of deep brown hair with the hint of coppery lights...
Such beauty made him suck in his breath.
Made his blood rush into his cock.
Made him incapable of further rational thought. He paused and made himself remember why he was here. His mission. His duty to British industry. Her beauty didn’t matter. She could still be a danger to the country that he loved.
Her companion had caught up to her, all smiles and laughter, looking so natural, so innocent. Mrs. Berry seemed at ease and showed no sign of awareness that she’d been lured to the estate grounds for the Guy Fawkes Night celebration.
A prickle of unease made him pause. Was his plan wise? Of course, it was. He had trained his men well. They wouldn’t get out of hand and take things too far. They knew how to be gentle yet effective.
The only proper concern was that Susan Kingston would unwittingly betray the deception. She wasn’t the brightest young woman but was the only person close enough to Mrs. Berry to play this needed part. She had followed directions well enough so far.
Evan lowered the spyglass and slipped it into his pocket. From all appearances, the reports he’d been given about Mrs. Berry were fairly accurate, at least on the surface. He needed to get ready for this evening’s business.
There was a certain freedom in no longer having a place in the world and no longer having responsibilities. No one to answer to. But was it the joy of pure freedom or the anguish of nothingness?
Unconsciously, Angela hugged her pelisse to herself. She wasn’t sure which emotion dominated. But in the light of thehuge bonfire, the merry faces of the people crowded around her here on the grounds of Whitestone Manor drew her attention.
As several villagers carried a large straw effigy, someone else took a torch and touched it to the dummy. The straw quickly caught fire, and the crowd cheered.
The collective excitement of the festivities vibrated in the air as though it were a palpable force—a force that seduced her away from her troubled thoughts, a force that energized her so that she didn’t even feel the autumn night’s chill. This Guy Fawkes Night celebration reminded her of the Fourth of July in Boston. Susan had already explained the history of the holiday and the Gunpowder Plot to her. It was all so fascinating.
Boom!
She jerked her face to the evening sky. Brillant light and color transfixed her. She turned to her friend. “I love this!”
“I love it too!” Susan linked her arm with hers, and they remained still. Their faces turned to the sky.
“Oh, goodness!”
Startled out of her bewitchment, Angela turned to Susan. “What?”
“Do you still want to go to the masquerade?”
She gaped at her friend for a moment, uncomprehending, then a tingling excitement, a sense of naughty fun, spread through her. They had brought masks in their purses, for they intended to sneak into the party at the estate. Susan knew a woman, Flora McRory, who worked in the kitchens. Angela gave Susan money to bribe the servant so that she could help them get inside the party. Flora had also agreed to provide them with aprons and bonnets so they would go as dairy maids for the fancy dress ball.
At first, Angela had been reluctant to follow her friend’s wild scheme. However, she had found the waiting here in England for her visit’s true purpose tedious. She had felt restless for the first time since she had married Jacob and had become consumed by the role she had taken with his family. She’d had little fun in her life since the end of her childhood. Even Susan’s older cousin, Tom, had assured her that the roads around here were perfectly safe, even at night. Perhaps she could abandon her normal prudence for a change. And it would be such deliciously wicked fun to trick some of these English nobles who thought so highly of themselves.
