The Secret Christmas Ciphers by Carolynn Carey Read Free Book Online Page A

upstairs. The French ciphers were becoming more sophisticated, and the effort required to decode them was definitely more time-consuming.
    Although Derek had longed for years to join a regiment, the officials in the War Office had insisted that he work as a civilian, assuring him that his talents were less likely to be exposed as long as he pretended to be interested in pleasure rather than in the war effort.
    The years he’d spent in London playing the part of a wastrel had allowed him to fulfill two roles. He’d been available on a few occasions to travel abroad to seek information that was dangerous to possess but of great significance to the war effort. But mostly he was kept in London because of his deciphering skills.
    Then, when the increasing frequency of ciphers being intercepted made the logistics more complicated, his contact in the War Office suggested Derek join a regiment. He had happily agreed but was now discovering that being with a regiment merely complicated his life. Although he could generally decode all intercepted ciphers by himself, he still had to travel to London to turn them over to his superiors. And occasionally the ciphers were so complicated that he had to seek help from his father, who was just as adept at decoding as Derek himself. The two of them had been holed up in a secret location tonight working on two especially challenging ciphers. When they’d finished, his father had insisted on delivering them so Derek could get some rest before leaving the next morning to return to his regiment.
    That’s what he had been doing after leaving Abigail at the ball. Now, tired and increasingly irritated with his stubborn desires, he continued up the stairs and eased open the door to his bedchamber. A few flames in the fireplace still cast a dim light about the room. He stepped inside and looked toward the bed, expecting to see a lump under the covers.
    When he did not, he wondered briefly if Abigail had chosen to sleep in another chamber. But no, she had too much pride to let the servants know she wasn’t sharing a bed with her husband.
    A slight noise called his attention to the wingback chair situated in front of the fireplace. The chair was angled with its back toward the door, but Derek could make out what appeared to be the edge of a night rail peeking around the bottom corner. Surely the silly girl hadn’t avoided the bed simply because she was expecting him to return.
    He eased across the room until he stood in front of the chair. Sure enough, Abigail sat slumped against the corner formed by the protruding wing on the right-hand side. Her feet were drawn up under her gown, and her arms were wrapped around each other as though for warmth. Her even breathing suggested that she still slept soundly.
    Shaking his head, he walked over to the bed, placed his candle on the bedside table, and turned the covers back. Then he walked back to the chair, scooped Abigail up in his arms, and carried her to the bed.
    Her eyes flickered open as he gently placed her on the soft feather mattress. “Derek?” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
    “You were expecting someone else?”
    Her eyes opened wider and she tried to push herself up in bed, then dropped back down. “I was trying to wait up for you.”
    “Sorry I’m so late then. What did you want?”
    Her eyes slipped closed, and her voice was so soft as to be barely audible. “I wanted you to make love to me.”
    Derek had trouble believing he’d heard correctly. “What did you say?” He touched Abigail’s shoulder and gave her a gentle shake. Be damned if he’d let her go back to sleep without either repeating what she’d just said or denying that she’d said it.
    She opened her eyes again and grimaced. “You probably don’t want to. And that’s all right. You don’t have to.”
    He set his teeth. “Don’t have to what, Abigail? What is it that you want?”
    She bit her lip and turned her head on the pillow so he could no longer