Irresistible by Darcy Burke

Author:Darcy Burke [Burke, Darcy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781637260845
Publisher: Zealous Quill Press

The letters Jess had written began to dance across the parchment. Perhaps she did need some tea. Or brandy. Or tea with brandy.

How many hours had she been working on this? At least two. Probably three. She actually had no idea what time it was.

The door opened, and Dougal came inside. He immediately loosened his cravat and swept his gaze over her. “You look comfortable.”

She glanced down at herself. “Because I’m in my dressing gown? I still have my wig on.”

“So you do.” He removed his spectacles and set them on the table by the door. “Any progress?”

Leaning back in the chair, she huffed out a frustrated breath. “Not really. I’m beginning to think this is impossible. Is the party over?”

He nodded. “I thought it would never end.”

“What time is it?”

“Nearly three.”

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.

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