“See?” He met her warm brown gaze and thanked whatever Fate had placed her in his path. “Perfectly fine.”

Annabel untied her corset as he unbuttoned his trousers. Her shift fell to the floor as he extinguished his candle and slid between the warm sheets. She joined him a moment later and curled against him in the dark. Her hand against his chest was as comforting as the fire in the grate.

Her toes brushed his calf, and his breath left his body in a sigh that emptied him to his heels.

“We need a group of business owners who pay significant amounts but whom Graydon doesn’t know.” She yawned. “I believe I know who to ask.”

“Of course you do.” He kissed her forehead and smiled as her breath fanned over his skin at an even, slow pace. His hand shaped to the curve of her hip, as the firelight turned her hair a warm gold.

His wife was a rare treasure, and he wasn’t giving her up without a fight.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Ramsbury coach came to a stop at the end of a line of carriages waiting outside Tavie Foster’s home.

“It looks like a ball instead of a tea.” Frederick looked out the window before opening the door. “We should walk from here to avoid being late, my lady.”

“Thank you, Frederick.” The crowd both pleased and unnerved her. She had worried that a hastily called emergency meeting would mean low attendance, but the Circle had proven her wrong. However, now she’d have to address a large crowd.

You can do this.

Jasper’s last words before she’d left the house, and his warm kiss, gave her courage as she took her footman’s arm. “I could reach the door on my own, you know.”

“His lordship made me promise not to let you out of my sight.” Frederick smiled. “He was right peeved you wouldn’t let him come.”

“No other husbands accompany their wives.” She didn’t count Drake Fletcher, since he and Jocelyn worked together. “I’m not certain they’re allowed.” And, despite his promises, Jasper would never meekly stay in the drawing room.

Martin, the dashing butler, welcomed them at the door. “Lady Ramsbury, please allow me to take your coat and hat.” He nodded to Frederick. “Albert will take you to the kitchen, sir.”

“With all respect, sir, I’m to stay at the door.” Frederick’s eyes widened at the crowd of ladies. “I’d prefer inside, but I can wait on the steps if it would be easier.”

“Frederick is under orders from Lord Ramsbury.” Annabel came to her guard’s defense lest he be branded as an uppity footman. Lord only knew what Martin would do if he learned the young man had a pistol strapped to his ribs. “I’m sorry, Martin.”

“Not at all, your ladyship. He can help with the door.” He called a young, red-headed man forward and delivered Annabel’s hat and coat. “You can help me here while Frederick minds the door.”

Annabel gained a bit of courage from settling one negotiation before she even entered the boardroom. It doubled when Thea greeted her with a mischievous smile. “My first emergency meeting seems to be a success.”

“Thank you so much for doing this.” Annabel looked past her to the table, which was already filling with attendees.

“My pleasure.” Thea winked. “We haven’t had any skullduggery all Season. Come with me to the head of the table.”

She sat to Tavie’s right, and motioned Annabel to the chair to her left. Mr. Fletcher joined them, taking the chair behind Thea. He was handsome, but Annabel imagined him to be the example of what her favorite novelists labeled as brooding.

Jocelyn took the chair to his right, her lilac silk dress in stark contrast to the man beside her. “Hello, Annabel. I’m glad to see you joined us.”

“It may be just the once.” Annabel felt the need to mitigate expectations. She really had no idea what business she could offer, and Jasper didn’t operate one. At least, not a proper one with a sign above the door or a product with his name on a label.

The Marquess of Ramsbury, Spy. That would cause quite a stir.

He would love it.

“We’ll see,” Jocelyn said. “May I present my husband, Drake?”

He looked up from his notes and nodded with a smile that was almost unnoticeable. “Lady Ramsbury.”

“Mr. Fletcher.”

They are a most unusual couple, Annabel thought as she faced forward. Then again, Society would say the same about her and Jasper unless they saw them at home.

Jasper. Couple. Home. Her marriage, no matter how it had begun, now felt very real.

All sorts of emotions came with that admission, threatening to swamp her at the worst possible time. Annabel seized on two and let the others swim past. She would not disappoint Jasper and give Kit Yarwood a chance to gloat over her failure, and she would not lose. Not now, when she was so close to such an important goal.

Tavie tapped her gavel. “Ladies. Come to order.”

A thrill went down Annabel’s spine. This was her part in their grand scheme, her idea for how to trap an embezzler, so they could trap a traitor, so they could trap a murderer.

Once the crowd had settled, Tavie swept her gaze and smile around the room. “It is good to see each of you for our first ever emergency meeting. I will cede the floor to the Marchioness of Ramsbury, who has a request for us to consider.”

Annabel went to the podium and smoothed out the foolscap covered with Jasper’s neat, bold strokes. She’d expected sentences to read. He’d given her one. Don’t be angry at me. Use your own words.

“Thank you for giving me an audience today.” She drew a shaky breath. “I’ve come to ask for your assistance, but first I would like to tell you a story. It begins with a soldier from Wales and the daughter of a French diplomat who met in Cairo during the Second Ottoman War.”

She continued weaving Gareth and Claudette’s tale in broad strokes as she walked inside the circular table, meeting each member’s eye. Giving no names to the players, she tied the threads from Gareth to Collins to Spencer to Graydon.

“If you will help by allowing me to compare your business’s tax receipts to the treasury records, I believe we can stop a grave injustice to a family who misses their son, a wife who wishes to properly grieve her husband, and to the people of England who put their faith in their queen.”

The room was quiet as her audience stared at each other, wondering who would begin the questions.

“You seek to oust Graydon, then?” one matron asked.

Damn. Annabel hadn’t masked the players as well as she’d thought.

“No, ma’am, not if his records are accurate and his behavior is honorable. We have been tasked with finding why tax money collected from you is not reaching the people and the projects as the Crown has promised. There may be any number of reasons that do not deal with the death in Wales. It may also be a clerk in the Exchequer rather than the man himself.”

“And you guarantee our anonymity?” a younger woman asked. Her gaze was direct, and her honey-blonde hair was pulled into a severe, simple style.

“I do,” Annabel said. “Just as I hope you will guarantee ours. Our objective, our lives, are in danger if our opponents know we are coming.”

“If I may.” Mr. Fletcher came to her side. “Your men of business will give the names of companies and receipt amounts to me. I will deliver them to Lady Ramsbury. She will not know which of you owns what company, or anything about your businesses, unless you wish to tell her.”

Once she was certain no questions remained, Annabel ceded the floor. “Thank you, ladies. Tavie.”

“Thank you for joining us, Lady Ramsbury. If you’ll wait in the drawing room, we’ll cast our votes.”

Annabel left the room, praying she’d done enough.