Page 36 of Irresistible
He’d spent the many, many minutes she’d been closeted in the dressing room imagining that he’d finished the act of disrobing her. In his mind, he’d stripped her bare, one garment at a time. And that was how he’d come to pour brandy. He needed something to do besides lust inappropriately after his partner. He also needed his erection to go away before she finished.
Jess emerged from the dressing chamber with a freshly scrubbed face and without her wig, her natural brown hair neatly plaited and hanging over her shoulder so the end caressed her breast. Just as he’d regained control of his body, he lost it again. He was grateful he was sitting at the table near the windows.
Averting his eyes, he sipped his brandy to distract himself. As she approached, he nodded toward the glass he’d poured for her on the opposite side of the table. “Their French brandy is excellent.”
“Another piece of evidence against them?” Jess asked, sliding onto the chair.
“Hardly. Many people have French brandy.”
“Yes, but do they speak more and more French as they fall deeper into their cups?” she quipped, referencing Gil’s behavior tonight.
They’d had an excellent madeira at dinner, and he’d drunk several glasses. Then there’d been port followed by the same French brandy he and Jess were sipping now.
“I don’t. Do you?”
Jess picked up the brandy and inhaled its scent. “I haven’t tried. I only had two glasses of wine at dinner, and I didn’t finish the port.”
“I think it’s safe to say most would not lapse into French unless it was their native language.” Dougal sipped his brandy.
“Gil demonstrated that for him it isnot. Honestly, it was difficult not to correct him.” She tasted the brandy and set the glass back on the table.
Dougal chuckled. The man’s French had become more and more inaccurate as his alcohol intake had increased. “I don’t disagree. Sometimes in this profession, it can be almost painful to suppress certain skills or knowledge. On one assignment, I had to act as if I knew nothing about swords and knives. I had to spend hours listening to a blatherskite tell me about his varied collection of rapiers, cutlasses, and on and on. It was positively grating. I can tell you I drank a fair amount after that. After the mission concluded, I mean.”
Her brows rose. “Blatherskite?”
“Have ye not heard o’ that?” Dougal allowed himself to revert into a full Highland brogue before shifting back to the Welsh accent. “It’s from a song. ‘Jog on your gait, ye blatherskite, my name is Maggie Lauder!’” he sang, laughing at the end before taking a drink.
Jess smiled. “I am not familiar with that. You’ve a nice singing voice. Is a blatherskite someone who talks too much?”
“Yes, and like me, Maggie Lauder would prefer him to move along than waste her time. But I suppose we must be grateful for blatherskites in this profession.”
“Would you describe Mary as that?” Jess asked.
“She does like to talk. Especially to you,” he added, recalling how often the two women had bent their heads together over dinner. “It seems you are beginning to like Mary.”
“I’m afraid I am,” she answered sheepishly. “I know I shouldn’t.”
He remembered what Jess had told him about her conversation earlier in the day with Mary—when Mary had said their former housekeeper might have left because she didn’t like them. “It’s fine to like her. Just know that if sheisa French spy, any affection you hold for her will not matter.”
“I understand.” She studied him a moment, her expression contemplative. “How do you manage all this subterfuge without becoming attached to people?”
“It’s never been an issue. I suppose I’ve been lucky that my missions aren’t terribly long. I concede this one is quite different from any other. The Chesmores are exceedingly friendly and…likeable.” Then there was her and their pretend marriage that even after one bloody day felt far too real. “I might even allow myself to like Gil.”
“It’s hard not to. He’s so gregarious.” She gave him a slight smile. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s fallen prey to their charm. But I will remain on my guard. If I were a spy, I’d employ an excess of charm to lull those around me into a sense of comfort and trust.”
Dougal was impressed at how far she’d come in barely over a week. “You’ve proven rather adept at this position,” he said. “I’m impressed with how you recovered yourself after the mishap with the French, and you did well gathering information this afternoon.”
“Thank you. I only want to be of use and ensure this assignment is successful. I daresay I will feel more helpful when I have something to decipher.”
That was also occupying his mind. “Yes, hopefully I will have a chance to search for a coded letter. I only hope there’s one to find.”
“Perhaps you should leave the picnic early. Say you’re unwell.”
“I don’t want to miss the shooting.” He wanted to observe Gil to determine the man’s skill. “I need to teach you to shoot.”
“That’s true.” Her lips curled into an alluring smile as she picked up her brandy and took another drink. He focused much too hard on the press of her lips against the glass. Then he imagined the slide of the brandy across her tongue, the taste of it in her mouth.
Dammit.
