Page 55 of Irresistible
Good heavens, much more than three hours even. “Did you learn any more useful information?”
“Not particularly, just that the Chesmores appear equally eccentric to everyone, which isn’t surprising. That is just who they are. They’ve gone out of their way to make friends here—paying calls and having monthly dinner parties like this one tonight. They seem to be very well liked, in spite of their behavior.” He lifted a shoulder. “Or perhaps because of it.”
Jess put her elbow on the desk and rested the side of her head against her hand. “You really think that?”
“I think they are driven by joy and love for one another, and for some, that is a most admirable trait.”
“For some. But not for you?”
“I was speaking as to why the guests might like our hosts. I was not offering my opinion about them.”
“So I gather,” she said with a slight smile. Dougal seemed to avoid sentiment, which she could understand given his job.
He nodded toward the parchment sprawled atop the desk. “Can I help you at all?”
Jess had enjoyed the brief respite from thinking about the code. “I don’t know how. I’m looking at the Wordsworth.”
“Her favorite,” Dougal said, removing his cravat completely.
The triangle of almond flesh peeking from his neckline drew her gaze. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen that, or at least part of that before. Still, it never failed to quicken her pulse and arouse her desire.
“It is a nice poem,” he went on. “I recognized it when you recited it after we arrived.”
Jess froze for a moment, the letters of the final stanza swimming before her eyes. There were forty-two letters in the French alphabet, if one included the diacritics. The first two lines were forty-five letters, slightly more. What if they somehow corresponded?
She wrote the first two lines of the final stanza on fresh parchment. Beneath each letter, she wrote a number.
“Bloody hell,” Dougal said, startling her.
Lifting her head, she saw him standing near the table staring out the window. “What is it?”
“There’s a light moving on the path to the beach.”
“What?” She bolted from the chair and joined him in looking out the window. Light bobbed in the darkness. “Who is it?”
“I can’t tell. I need to find out.” He was already moving toward the door. “Glad I didn’t remove my shoes or wig.”
Torn between her work on the cipher and whatever was happening outside, Jess hesitated. Her gaze flicked to the desk—she was close to solving this. She could feel it.
“Wait,” she said, hurrying toward him. “I want to go with you.”
“You don’t need to,” he said. “You should work on breaking that code.”
“I will just as soon as we get back.” She didn’t want to miss any part of the mission. Returning to the desk, she gathered all the papers. The stack was more than she could fit in her dressing gown, unfortunately. She frowned. Perhaps she should stay. Disappointment washed through her.
Dougal took the papers from her. “I’ve got them.” He folded the stack and slid them into his waistcoat. “We must hurry.” Picking up the spectacles from the table, he set them on his face.
Jess didn’t bother exchanging her slippers for boots. “Let’s go.”
They hurried from the room, moving as stealthily as possible. Downstairs, they made their way to a seldom-used sitting room with a door to the garden.
Once they were outside, Dougal picked up the pace, his long legs devouring the earth as they moved toward the path. Jess hastened to keep up with him, glad she possessed long legs too.
Dougal took her hand at the top of the path. “Stay close to me,” he whispered.
They crept along the path and eventually saw the light. It was no longer moving. Dougal pulled her behind a rock that they were able to peer over.
It was the Chesmores. They’d laid a blanket on the sand and were just sitting down.
