Seducing the Ruthless Rogue Page 10

  “Sometimes emotions intervene,” Mack shrugged. “We wouldn’t be human otherwise. Now, let me see you home. Then I must come back to work.”

  “I can see myself home. I am sure you have much to do.”

  “Cassie,” he captured her upper arm, and his thumb tenderly caressed back and forth, “allow me this small concession.”

  His whispered brogue felt like a caress along her spine and it took all she had not to shiver in response. “All right,” she breathlessly agreed.

  After a short, silent trip, the carriage drew to a stop in front of the Graham house. Mack stepped down and held his hand out for Cassie to take. She found herself welcoming the touch of his hand, even through her gloves. He walked her up the walk, and she allowed him to knock on the door. Chang opened it, a hopeful expression on his face.

  “You bring Sir Graham?” he asked, looking around.

  “Not yet, Chang,” she said, her words sounded leaden even to her own ears. She was upset because her father was not home safe and sound, but most of all she was disappointed in herself. She had never been a vindictive person, so why now? “I’m not feeling very well, I think I will go and lie down a bit. Thank you, Mack, for seeing me home.” She forced her head up and her eyes to meet his.

  “You’re welcome, Cassie darlin’.”

  She turned to go inside the little house.

  “Wait. You might need this,” he said.

  Cassie turned and saw her gun lying in the palm of his hand. “Thank you.”

  “It is cleaned and loaded, so be careful. You wouldn’t want to shoot any holes in the ceiling.”

  “No,” she blushed. “Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Cassie walked into her house and continued until she reached her bedroom. She closed the door, not wanting to answer Chang’s many questions. She gently placed the gun in the side table, kicked off her shoes, and stripped to her chemise. Cassie removed the pin holding her hat in place and then removed the pins to let her hair fall free. None of it relieved the pounding ache of her head. She crawled onto the bed and curled up into a ball, clutching a pillow close.

  ***

  Mack arrived back at the Horseguards after having taken Cassie home. He had wanted to follow her inside, take her in his arms, and hold her close. She would not have appreciated that. She would despise him witnessing her weakness. Instead, he had given her a way to defend herself and left her to come to terms with her anger.

  He walked up the stairs and entered his domain once more.

  “Welcome back, Director McKenzie,” Mr. Preston’s voice wavered.

  “Thank you.”

  Mack continued through until he reached his office and shut the door. He let his eyes rest on every surface wondering what would have happened if he had left everything behind that day, not taking anything home. Mack felt somewhat responsible for Sir Graham’s kidnapping. He must have been followed one of the evenings he met with the man. One to two times a week for the past year, depending on what his schedule permitted, Mack met with Sir Graham. They went over inventions the man currently worked on and then they would end the night playing chess. He had unwittingly put the man in danger.

  He made his way behind the massive desk and sat in the familiar chair that he spent so many hours in. Mack shuffled and sorted papers when a hesitant knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” he called, not looking up to see who stood in the doorway.

  “Director McKenzie, might I have a word with you?” Mr. Preston asked.

  “Of course.” Mack laid down the papers and leaned back in his chair. He linked his fingers over his stomach and watched the younger man like a hawk would watch its prey.

  “Director McKenzie, I had no idea about Director Presley or what he was doing. I don’t know what I would have done if I had.”

  “Mr. Preston, it was a difficult situation you found yourself in. The first of many, I would imagine. There is something you must remember throughout your time of service, regardless of the capacity in which you are serving.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Your only allegiance is to King and country. Even your own safety and that of your family, in some cases, must be put aside for the greater cause.”

  “That seems rather…” he broke off searching for a word that would adequately describe his thoughts on the subject. “Harsh,” he finally said.

  “Mr. Preston, you must remember that there is nothing sweet or wondrous about war. It is dirty and deadly, and now we are fighting wars on two fronts. If we are to show the world that we are a power to be reckoned with then we must be stalwart in our fight. You must decide now if you want to continue to fight for the cause or not, because if you do, you will make enemies. And you might as well forget having a personal life, because you put their lives at risk every day. Yes, Mr. Preston, it is a ‘harsh’ life, as you say, and do not let anyone ever try to tell you differently.”

  “Yes, sir. Should you need anything, just yell out.”

  Mack watched the younger man shut the door. “You would be wise to take your own advice, old man,” he advised himself. He had already endangered Sir Graham’s life. If he continued to toy with Cassie, he would inevitably put her life in danger as well. Besides, he wanted nothing permanent. He found himself remembering the taste of her first foray into seduction. That taste is all that he would ever have. Once Sir Graham was safely back in the bosom of his little family, Mack would make certain he saw no more of Cassie Graham. Perhaps it is time to find a mistress, he mused.

  ***

  Cassie woke the next morning, not feeling any better about herself. She went through the motions of getting dressed. She hoped to slip out of the house without disturbing Chang, but that was not to be. He was doing his morning rituals in the parlor and paused when she stepped on a creaky board.

  “Going somewhere, Missy Cassie?”

  “Yes,” Cassie replied, cursing herself for not stepping over that board.

  “I go with you.”

  “No. Chang, I am not going to argue with you about this. I need to be alone, and I need to be out of this house for a while.”

  “Not proper for you to be out by yourself. Not safe either.”

  “Perhaps not, but then not much about me has ever been proper,” she replied. She left the house and scurried down the street before Chang could follow. She walked for what felt like hours and very well could have been. Cassie found herself in front of the newspaper office, looking up at the massive building. How many times had she found herself in this same spot, staring at the doors, wondering if she had the nerve to turn in an article under her own name? Would it be accepted? Would she be given credibility despite her sex? She clutched the portfolio in one hand, standing and staring. The sidewalk grew more crowded as the time passed.

  She watched men, both well-dressed and not, enter and leave the building. Who could imagine that a newspaper office could be so busy? Never once did she see a woman enter the building. Why was that? Did they not have as much right to do business as men? Perhaps that would be something she could write for another article. Cassie shifted slightly and felt someone bump into her, causing her to lose her grip on the portfolio. It fell to the ground and before she could reach it, a gentleman dressed in coal black, retrieved it and handed it to her.

  “Pardon, ma’am,” he said, tipping his hat to her before moving on.

  “Pardon me,” she echoed.

  No, today is not the day for me to conquer society, she thought to herself. She waved at a boy that stood on the sidewalk waving papers at people and shouting out headlines. Cassie talked to him, gave him money and the portfolio, and took the newspapers from his hands. She watched his spot so that no one else would take his prime selling location. When he returned, Cassie gave him a half pence as thanks and then continued on her journey.

  Mid-day she arrived at the Horseguards and made her way up to the director’s suite of offices. She stepped inside to find the exterior officer empty. Instea
d of waiting for Mr. Preston as she should, she walked across the room and knocked on the inner door.

  “Come in,” Mack’s Scottish brogue called.

  Shivers raced down her spine and she remembered the other night. You shouldn’t allow a man to affect you this way, she scolded herself. She let herself into the office. “Hello, Director McKenzie.”

  “What brings you by, Cassie darlin’?”

  “Do not call me that, and what brings me by? I thought that would be obvious. I am accompanying you today.” She watched Mack throw back his head and laugh. His handsomeness stirred something deep within her. “What do you find so funny, Director McKenzie?”

  “The thought of your accompanying me to Green Park.”

  “I can take care of myself,” she reminded him.

  “Of course you can.”

  “Shall I remind you just how well I can take care of myself? It seems like there were two times you ended up staring at the ceiling of your house, Director. Shall I remind you how it felt? Or perhaps how it felt when I hit you in your ribs?” Silence. “Ah, I see you’re not laughing now. Good. Now, when are we leaving for Green Park, did you say? And you will not sway me to do anything else.”

  “Within the hour,” he gritted between his teeth. “Why don’t you wait in Mr. Preston’s office? I have some work I need to complete.”

  “You aren’t going to sneak out a window or a secret corridor, are you?”

  “As much as I would like to, no, Cassie darlin’, I will not.”

  “Excellent. Then I will be waiting in Mr. Preston’s office.” She walked to the door, but flipped around and looked at him. “How long are you going to insist on calling me that?”

  “Until I tire of it or can think of something better.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “What is that look about?”

  “I was just contemplating if I have a knife sharp enough to cut through your boorish tongue.” She turned back around and shut the door behind her, effectively halting any retort he might have said.

  ***

  Mack watched her voluptuous figure swish out the door. He hated that brown serviceable dress she wore day in and day out. He found himself staring at the door, wondering what she would look like swathed in rich, jewel-toned dresses. Perhaps a ruby color, her hair cascading down her back.

  “Get yourself under control, man. You would think you were returning to the days of your callow youth.”

  “Talking to yourself?” a familiar voice asked from the doorway.

  “No, I don’t have any work that needs to be done,” Mack said in irritation. “Everyone just come in and make yourself at home.”

  “My, my. You are irritable today. I heard that Presley was the responsible party,” Gabe said, sitting in one of the chairs across from his brother.

  “Yes. Seems he liked to gamble too much and is feeling the pressure of supplying his daughters with a dowry.”

  “Hmmm. What happened to you?” Gabe asked curiously.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That scratch on your cheek.”

  “A tree branch.”

  “A tree branch?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “What were you doing? Skulking about?”

  “Oh, bugger off, Gabe.”

  “What are you doing today? I noticed Miss Graham sitting in the outer office.”

  “We are retrieving her father and capturing a foreign spy.”

  “And you are allowing her to accompany you?”

  “Are you questioning me?”

  “All right,” Gabe stood, chuckling. “I am looking forward to hearing how all this turns out.”

  “Hmph,” Mack grunted returning his focus to the papers on his desk.

  Chapter 9

  “Stay put,” Mack directed after the hackney rolled to a stop just shy of the entrance to Green Park. He took in the mutinous stare she gave him. “I’m warning you right now, Miss Graham, if I see one toe outside of this conveyance, I will throw you in Newgate myself!”

  “On what charge?”

  “I will come up with something. The men we are meeting are desperate and willing to do anything, including kill a beautiful woman such as yourself. Besides, I cannot, and will not, have my men distracted by your presence.”

  “I will stay put.”

  “I meant every word I said,” he repeated, stepping out of the hack.

  “I said, ‘I will stay put,’” she said between clenched teeth.

  “Good. I will have your father back with you momentarily.”

  “Director McKenzie, please be…” she broke off and cleared her throat before continuing, “…that is, please take care of my father.”

  “Yes, Miss Graham,” he bowed then shut the door harder than necessary. He slipped into the shrubbery and studied the park. His people were there, standing at the ready. If they were able to capture Badeaux, it would be a coup for his office and his leadership. Should they get Badeaux to talk and reveal secrets, it would be even better. A couple strolled through the park as well as several ladies and their companions. Most of the people were his agents in disguises. There were only a few that were truly civilians.

  The wait was interminable. Finally, three men arrived at the far end of the park. A large, burly man took the balding Sir Graham to a park bench. He forcefully sat him on the bench and stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder. The thin man, dressed like a fine London dandy, walked towards a fountain, a walking stick in his hand and a hat placed jauntily on his head. The man twirled the cane and whistled a familiar French song that tickled Mack’s ears and made him see red. How dare he flaunt his French background on English soil?

  Presley entered the park from the opposite side that Badeaux had. The man carried papers rolled into a tube and tied with string. He tapped the tube nervously against his leg as he approached the fountain.

  “Good morning, Monsieur Presley,” Badeaux greeted.

  “Badeaux,” Presley returned. “I have what you want. I see that Sir Graham is in good health.”

  “Yes, and he is anxious to see his beautiful daughter. Wants to make sure she is all right and all that. Quite boring if you ask me. Before I give you the rest of your fee, I want to see what I am paying for.” He held out his hand expectantly.

  Presley slowly pulled one of the maps free and handed it over to Badeaux. The man unrolled it and slowly perused it, studying all the markings intently. Satisfied, he rolled the map back up and placed it in the tube.

  “I’ll take the rest,” Badeaux said.

  “I want to see my money,” Presley countered.

  “But of course, monsieur.” He waved a hand and another man entered Green Park carrying a small satchel.

  Mack watched the man approach Badeaux and Presley. Presley took the satchel from him, opened it, and looked inside. Evidently, the man was pleased with what he saw because he handed over the maps and took the satchel.

  “It has been a pleasure, monsieur.”

  “I wish I could say the same, Badeaux.”

  After that, chaos ensued. It began with Presley pulling a gun, and instead of aiming it at the Frenchman, he held it to his own head and pulled the trigger. The few women that were present, and not part of Mack’s team, screamed at the sight and one collapsed. Men came running out of the trees. The big man standing near Sir Graham, ran for the gate, but was tackled.

  “Don’t move,” one of the agents ordered the man who had brought the satchel to Badeaux. He froze mid-step and held his hands up in supplication. Badeaux, however, managed to slip by every agent between the fountain and the gate. Mack gave chase and was just reaching out to grab him when Badeaux whirled around brandishing a sword that he must have pulled from his cane. Mack jumped back, but not enough to avoid the punishing tip of the sword as it ripped through his shirt, leaving a thin trail of blood across his stomach.

  “Stay back,” the Frenchman commanded.

  Mack was reaching for his gun, when Badeaux l
unged towards him, grazing his upper arm, causing him to drop the gun.

  “It seems as if you are at my mercy, Monsieur McKenzie. I am correct, oui?” Silence. “I have waited for this day for a long while. I have the treasured maps and you at the end of my sword.” Badeaux held the tip of his sword at Mack’s throat.

  “But you don’t have the money, now do ya’?” Mack queried, holding his hand over the bleeding wound of his arm.

  “Not important, the man waved. Do you think I would just hand over that much money to my enemy? It was faux money.” His smile was evil. “That will be the fastest way to get Director McKenzie killed,” he called to the men closing in on them. “You see, you might be successful in killing me, but I will kill him before I fall.”

  “I doubt that,” a feminine voice said. Mack watched in horror as Cassie approached the group.

  ***

  Cassie paced beside the hack, anxiously chewing her thumbnail when she heard a gunshot followed by screaming and yelling. She ran to the gate, ignoring the jarvey’s plea to stay put. She arrived just in time to see the man slash Mack’s arm causing him to drop his gun. Now he was unarmed and the other man held the tip of a sword to his throat.

  Not even pausing to think about her actions and the consequences they might have, Cassie stealthily moved forward. She crept forward, staying low.

  “…but I will kill him before I fall.”

  “I doubt that,” she replied as she landed a chop blow to the area where his left kidney was located. Cassie followed that up with a kick to his knee, causing him to fall on one knee, unbalanced. Then she finished him by striking him at the joining of his shoulder and his neck. The Frenchman’s eyes fluttered and his body went slack. The men that were standing behind Mack rushed forward to apprehend the inert form.

  “Papa!” she cried, rushing across the park.

  “Cassiopeia!” he yelled back, moving slower than she, but rushing to her just the same.

  Cassie was vaguely aware of the movement going on around her. She was focused on reaching her father and making sure he was hale and hearty. A little more than halfway across the park, the older man was in her arms.