Deception. A.S. Fenichel

the study and rushed up the steps to his chamber. He had much to do, and he needed to speak to his brother before he left the castle.

      Chapter 2

      Near dawn, Dorian followed Lillian from Castle Brendaligh. Fearlessly, she drove the team of two fine black horses as if the devil were on their heels, and better than most men. A slower phaeton might be more appropriate for a lady. A woman travelling alone was enough to raise eyebrows. Why hadn’t she disguised herself as a man?

      Her vehicle was generally a man’s conveyance.

      Ten miles into the journey, she pulled her carriage to the side of a deserted road.

      Still as a statue, Dorian hid in a thick tree line.

      Lillian walked behind her carriage, raised her arms above her head, and interlaced her fingers. Her breasts pushed forward and her waist narrowed.

      He fidgeted in the saddle, brushing away the ridiculous notion she could disguise her curves. No one would ever believe she was a man, no matter how good her disguise.

      “How long do you intend to follow before you state your business, Mr. Lambert?”

      Dorian maneuvered his horse out of the shadows and onto the road. He brushed aside the wave of guilt. He had his orders. The fact that he enjoyed the view was irrelevant. He jumped to the ground and bowed.

      Her pale green pelisse set off the shimmer in her red hair. When she leaned over, the swell of her breasts went on display.

      No sense denying his attraction to her. Knowing her better would not be a hardship. “I suppose now is a good time to announce myself, Miss Dellacourt.”

      “Your presence has been known almost since the start of the journey. I assume Cullum has ordered you to stop me?” She lifted the end of her skirt, revealing a high boot more suited to riding a horse than having two pull her carriage.

      The revelation of her slender leg, even covered by fine leather, diverted him from her question until a long thin blade appeared from inside her footwear, and Lillian’s intense stare drew his gaze up.

      “Do you intend to kill me, Miss Dellacourt?”

      She took a deep breath, which lifted her full breasts in the most befuddling way. “I would prefer not to. I loathe killing humans.”

      “Yet you do not rule out the possibility.” She really was magnificent.

      “I have someplace to go, and I will not be stopped by you or Drake Cullum.”

      “I’m not instructed to stop you, madam. I have only been ordered to follow and see what it is you find.”

      “And if I find something? What are your orders, Mr. Lambert?” She spun the knife along her fingers so fast the blade blurred.

      A pity she didn’t tuck away the knife. He longed for a second glimpse at those legs. “He has ordered me to make certain any important information reaches him first. I think you underestimate Drake Cullum as well as how much you are esteemed within The Company, Miss Dellacourt.”

      She continued to spin the blade as if the motion was absentminded. Another person might tap her fingers or fidget. “I’m not going to be hindered by you.”

      “I would not think of it.”

      “Do you intend to assist me?” Her head cocked one way and her hip the other, a most charming pose.

      He was as curious as the next man as to why Shafton had been so vehement about blaming the hunters for the master’s ascension. Assisting also meant having the opportunity to get to know Lillian better, a welcome bonus. “I am at your service.”

      She watched him intently. Her eyes, impossibly blue, showed curiosity, determination, even a touch of fear. Sensible girl. Anyone as notably brave as Lillian, should arm herself with a modicum of fear to keep them alert.

      His mount stomped at the prolonged inactivity.

      “You may ride in the carriage if you’d prefer.”

      Joy erupted inside Dorian. Out of proportion with an offer to sit next to her and yet there it was. He tied his horse to the back of the curricle and offered his assistance to the lady.

      Despite she did not require the least bit of help to mount the vehicle, she accepted his offered hand.

      The touch lasted less than five seconds, yet it sent the thrill of anticipation through his body. Perhaps spending time with this particular woman was a bad idea. He climbed up after her but made no move to drive the vehicle. She was a competent driver and it was her curricle.

      The corners of her lips bowed up in the most delicious way.

      “I’m happy to take the reins if we meet any passing carriages along the road.”

      “That might be wise.” She flicked the leather, and the horses broke into a trot.

      “May I ask, where exactly we are headed, Miss Dellacourt?”

      “Edinburgh.”

      “And our mission?”

      “I’m surprised you do not know.” She focused on her driving.

      “I was informed you intend to investigate Lord Shafton in some way, but I cannot guess what you hope to find in Edinburgh.”

      Her eyes narrowed. “How did Cullum know what I was doing?”

      “He is a man of many secrets and incredible intuition. Plus, we all saw the altercation in the dining room. I supposed it was not difficult to discern your intentions.”

      “I must learn better control over my temper.” She spoke almost to herself.

      “I would not change a thing.”

      She turned toward him. “I heard rumors indicating the entire war with the demons began just outside of Edinburgh. I want to find that location. I am not entirely sure why, but my instincts tell me to go back to the beginning. I’m going to locate the log books, reports, and notes at The Company headquarters.”

      “Instincts? And do you intend to stride inside the castle and demand files? What exactly is the plan?”

      She grinned. “I had intended more stealth, but now that you are assisting me, I like the idea of striding much better.”

      “You must be mad. You seriously planned to break into The Company file rooms and thought you could get away with it.”

      She mumbled something that sounded like, “Oh ye of little faith.”

      “Are you that good, Miss Dellacourt?”

      “I’m the best, Mr. Lambert.”

      His groin responded to her breathy voice and the seduction in her words as if she were talking about an activity far different from her ability to infiltrate the castle.

      * * * *

      By the time they arrived at the posting house, Lillian’s back ached from constant jostling on rutted roads. She longed for a hot bath and a soft bed. Several stable boys ran to take care of the three horses. From the exterior, the inn appeared nicer than most.

      She allowed him to hand her down and even gave Dorian a feminine curtsy to complete the allusion.

      The inn’s charm continued inside, with clean wooden floors, a warm fire, and a lively clientele. A tiny man ran the place. In spite of his bald head, tufts of hair grew prodigiously from his ears. He bubbled with enthusiasm over having such a fine young couple come to stay with them.

      Dorian told the innkeeper they were newly married. This revelation garnered them overwrought excitement and unnecessary attention.

      Lillian worried the innkeeper might have an apoplexy.

      As soon as they were shown up the narrow stairs to a room considered the best, and the door closed, she turned toward her companion.