Intimate Betrayal (27 page)
Authors: Adrienne Basso
“Good. You are not overworking yourself, are you, Alyssa? Baron Welles has told me it will take several weeks before you are fully recovered from Katherine’s birth.”
“I am making an excellent recovery. Baron Welles remarked upon it this morning, as a matter of fact. He also said I will be perfectly fine in just a few short weeks,” she said pointedly.
It took Morgan a few moments to absorb the meaning of her statement, and he delighted at Alyssa’s fierce blush when he leered at her.
“Perhaps short weeks for Baron Welles, my dear,” Morgan whispered with fierce passion, “but a lifetime for me.”
He reached out suddenly, pulling her intimately against him. Morgan lowered his head to claim her lips with his own. His kiss was tender and giving, but Alyssa could feel the control he was exerting over himself.
The familiar quickening excitement claimed Alyssa as she touched her tongue to his and locked her arms around his neck. Provocatively, she moved her body against his, and she heard him groan loudly as his hands slid caressingly down her waist and hips.
“If you continue kissing me with such fervor, I shall disregard all the good doctor’s advice,” Morgan said hoarsely.
“I’m sorry,” Alyssa replied in a husky voice, her eyes smiling when they met his.
“I doubt that, madam” Morgan responded dryly. He disengaged himself from their embrace and kissed her chastely on the forehead.
“An overly large stack of boring correspondence awaits me in my study,” Morgan said, effectively shifting the subject. “I shall join you for tea later this afternoon, if you promise to rest now.”
“All right, Morgan,” Alyssa answered, surprising her husband with her ready compliance. She grinned wickedly at him. “After all, you have just amply demonstrated it is in my own best interest if I have a rapid recovery.”
The duke’s infectious laughter could be heard echoing down the hall as he left his wife’s bedchamber.
Christmas day dawned bright and fair. After morning services, held in the chapel at Ramsgate Castle and attended by both the family and members of the staff, everyone gathered together in the ballroom. Alyssa, under the dowager duchess’s guidance, had turned the room into a Christmas fair to which all the servants and tenant families were invited.
The ballroom was festively decorated with seasonal greenery and brightly colored ribbons, and lit with numerous red, green, and white candles. There were lots of gaily wrapped presents piled up on the large table, and several sideboards were filled with delectable food. There was a wide variety of culinary delights to suit all tastes, but the undisputed centerpiece of the table was an elaborate Yorkshire Christmas pie. Mrs. Keenly explained proudly to Alyssa how she had personally supervised the creation of this masterpiece, the recipe for which required stuffing a pigeon inside a partridge, the partridge inside a chicken, the chicken inside a goose, and finally the goose inside a turkey. It was all then baked in a pastry case made from a bushel of flour and ten pounds of butter.
Mrs. Keenly was also very pleased with the dessert table that boasted a pyramid of glass salvers piled with containers of jellies, ice creams, custards, syllabubs, and candied fruits, various tarts, sweetmeats, pies, and cakes.
After everyone had eaten their fill, the gifts were distributed by the family members. Alyssa stood next to Morgan, along with Caroline, Tristan, and the dowager duchess, as they handed out small gifts to everyone attending the party. The good feelings and laughter echoed through the enormous room as the musicians played and the dancing began.
Morgan discreetly signaled this was the family’s cue to leave so the celebration could continue without them. Alyssa climbed the wide circular staircase with Caroline, and they whispered together, confirming the safe delivery of Morgan’s Christmas present. Alyssa happily anticipated the yuletide supper and intimate family gift exchange planned for later in the evening.
“I do believe this is the most enjoyable Christmas I have ever spent,” Caroline exclaimed. “I often heard of the elaborate Christmas celebrations given at Ramsgate Castle, but never before attended one.”
Alyssa nodded her head in agreement. “It is quite a remarkable day. Grandmother said the German custom of giving Christmas gifts was first introduced and popularized by her friend, the Duchess of York.”
Caroline and Alyssa parted in the hallway, and Alyssa entered her bedchamber, Morgan on her heels. She instructed Mavis, who was sitting with the baby, to go down to the ballroom and join in the celebration. Alyssa assumed Mavis’s vacated chair, rocking her daughter’s cradle contently, her green eyes never leaving the baby’s perfect cherubic features. It was uncanny how much the child resembled Morgan, from her silver-gray eyes to her strong little chin. Alyssa was debating whether to wake the infant to feed her, when Morgan reached down and scooped up his sleeping daughter.
“I must admit, Alyssa,” he stated in a firm voice, “our child grows more beautiful with each passing day.”
“Naturally that is your opinion, Morgan.” Alyssa laughed. “Katherine looks exactly like you.”
She took the now squirming infant from her father and settled back in a comfortable chair in front of the roaring fire to nurse her. The room was soon filled with the noisy sounds of the baby as she gulped down her meal.
“She isn’t very dainty, is she?” Morgan said with a smile.
“She does have a tendency to rush her meals,” Alyssa agreed.
After the baby burped, Alyssa handed her back to Morgan. Katherine’s nurse was enjoying the Christmas festivities with the rest of the staff, and Alyssa knew Morgan would not object to caring for his daughter.
“I need to rest before dinner. Please lay Katherine in the cradle when she falls asleep. I will hear her if she needs me.”
Morgan nodded in understanding. “I shall instruct Dickinson to send Janet to help you dress for dinner later this evening.”
Alyssa stared back uncertainly at her reflection in the long, narrow mirror. She was pleased to note her figure had returned to its normal slimness, except for a fullness in her breasts that served to emphasize her womanly charms. Her gown, specially made in London for this evening, was a far more elaborate style than she normally wore. The rich white Chinese crepe was smooth and flat in the skirt front, with a pleated back extending to a short train. The skirt itself had five ruffles of eyelet, mounted with embroidered bands of rich gold. The bodice of the dress was also embroidered in gold, gathered under the bust, with small set-in short sleeves, slightly off the shoulder, that showed a lovely expanse of smooth white skin. Long white kid gloves reaching her elbows, and soft, white, flat-heeled slippers on her feet completed the ensemble.
Frowning, Alyssa stepped back farther from the mirror. In addition to selecting her frilly dress, Janet had spent the past hour creating an ornate hairdo. Alyssa’s glorious red hair was brushed sleek, drawn up to the crown of her head, and braided into numerous separate strands which were arranged into standing loops with wire and high-backed combs to hold them erect. Fresh flowers from the castle hothouse were generously intertwined.
“You look magnificent,” Janet announced. “His Grace won’t be able to keep his eyes off you tonight.”
Alyssa forced a small smile. “I don’t doubt for a moment the duke will notice me,” she said ironically. “Thank you, Janet, for all your hard work.”
After the maid left, Alyssa continued staring at herself, trying to decide whether or not she liked her new image. Morgan abruptly entered the room. She drew a deep breath and faced him, hoping for a positive response.
“Good evening,” he said, his eyes betraying his startled reaction to her ensemble. “Are you ready to go downstairs?”
“You don’t like it,” Alyssa said in a disappointed voice.
“What do you mean, I don’t like it? The new dress is lovely. You are as beautiful as always, my dear.”
“You know, Morgan, I never have liked the way you can lie so readily,” Alyssa snapped. She walked to her dressing table and picked up her comb, then hesitated, her arms wavering. What can I possibly do to fix this? she wondered dismally.
“It isn’t all that bad,” Morgan ventured. She met his eyes in the mirror and gave him a chilling stare. “All right, Alyssa. It looks as if birds are nesting on your head. Satisfied?”
She broke into nervous giggles at his rather accurate description. “Don’t just stand there, Morgan,” she admonished. “Help me get this stuff off my head.”
He complied with good nature, first removing the flowers and then the combs. Alyssa carefully unbraided the various strands, pulling her hair free of the wires. Finally free of all the paraphernalia, she shook her head, tossing her curls.
“That feels infinitely better,” she concluded. “I’m not sure how I would have carried all that extra weight on my head throughout the evening.”
Morgan took the brush out of her hand and began stroking the luxurious tresses. “This is how I prefer your hair, my dear,” he whispered in her ear. He ran his fingers caressingly through her curls, and their eyes met again in the mirror.
The amusement was gone from Morgan’s eyes as he gazed at Alyssa’s bared shoulders hungrily. He pulled her back against his hard, aroused body, allowing himself to feel the sweet agony, his lips caressing the exposed skin.
“Is there enough time?” Alyssa whispered, a gruff edge to her voice.
“What?” he stammered, sure he had misunderstood her meaning.
She turned around in his arms and faced him. “I asked you if there was enough time,” she repeated, raining small kisses down his cheek.
“Are you sure you are well enough?”
Alyssa could feel the tensing of all his muscles as she nuzzled her mouth against his neck. “I do have this painful ache,” she murmured provocatively, bringing his hand down to the juncture between her legs. “Right here.”
Morgan’s eyes met hers, and he laughed with delight. “You are in luck, madam. I believe I have the very cure for what ails you.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Alyssa reached up and untied the intricate knot of Morgan’s cravat, her eyes never leaving his. Her teasing fingers opened the collar of his shirt and slid caressingly through the fine mat of hair on his chest. He groaned loudly, his hands automatically reaching for the hooks at the back of her gown.
Slowly, tantalizingly, they undressed each other, their eyes locked together. When they were both finally naked, Morgan swung Alyssa up in his arms and placed her on the bed. She could feel the cool, smooth silkiness of the satin coverlet against her bare bottom as Morgan settled himself over her body.
“You are so beautiful, my love,” he whispered in a husky voice, lowering his head to kiss her.
Alyssa returned his kiss eagerly. She allowed long-dormant sensations to claim her, making her body tingle and yearn for him. His hands slid between her thighs, searching, probing, until they found her inner warmth and moistness. She writhed against his hand as he fondled her, her breath coming in short gasps.
Morgan tried to hold back, wanting to prolong the pleasure for both of them, but Alyssa would not allow it. She reached out and grabbed his rigid manhood, pulling him toward her, opening her legs in sensual invitation. She was so hot, so wet, so on fire; his control snapped. He placed his hands beneath her buttocks and lifted her to receive him. He plunged deep inside her, and she welcomed his entry, locking her legs firmly around his waist and pulling him even deeper into her body.
“Alyssa,” he cried out. “You are so incredibly tight, I can barely stand it.” He claimed her mouth in a hot kiss, his weight pressing down on her as he thrust fiercely inside.
Alyssa lifted her hips to meet him, her arms around his back, holding him tightly. She was lost in the sensations coursing through her body. When Morgan felt her nearing her release, he could no longer contain his excitement and spilled his seed inside her just as she reached fulfillment.
Afterward they lay together, Morgan gently caressing Alyssa’s cheek. He was propped up on one elbow, looking tenderly down at her. His heart swelled with a peace and contentment he had never known before.
“I do love you,” Morgan stated in a clear, strong voice.
Alyssa stiffened slightly at his words and then smiled shyly at him. Tears of happiness gathered in her eyes. “I have long suspected you might, but I must confess, ’tis marvelous to hear the words.”
“I realize I have been behaving like a perfect idiot, but love is not an emotion I can easily admit.” He gazed into her eyes and Alyssa saw the vulnerability and yearning in them.
“Have you loved me for a long time?” she asked, holding his arm tightly.
“Probably,” he responded, glad he had finally been able to admit his true feelings for Alyssa, yet not entirely comfortable with his declaration. Morgan flashed her a brilliant smile and delicately traced the outline of her naked back. “We had best rise and get dressed. I imagine everyone is wondering what has become of us.”
Reluctantly they arose from the bed, and after much tender kissing and caressing, started to get dressed. Morgan had a much easier task of fastening Alyssa’s gown than she did of tying his neckcloth. After several false starts, Morgan finally pronounced them presentable, although he hoped Dickinson wouldn’t see him. His stodgy valet would be mortified if he saw the shambles the duke’s cravat was in.
Alyssa and Morgan stood together holding hands for a moment outside the drawing room doors. She squeezed his hand affectionately. As the duke swung open the door, she whispered softly, “I love you, Morgan.”
Beaming, they entered the room, their slightly disheveled appearance and thoroughly happy expressions bringing a smile of glee to the dowager duchess’s face.
Presents were exchanged, and Morgan cast his wife a puzzled glance when he held aloft her gift of a leather bridle.
“Thank you, my dear,” he said politely. Alyssa laughed at his confusion.
“There is a second part to your gift, Morgan,” she teased. “But I am afraid the missing piece is hardly fit company for the drawing room. You will find her tethered in the stables.”
“And might I add, big brother, Lord Edmunds informed me your wife drives an even harder bargain than you do,” Tris exclaimed with a laugh.
“You bought the mare from Lord Edmunds?” Morgan exclaimed when he realized what they were laughing about. “The horse I was attempting to purchase the day Katherine was born?”
“The very same.” Alyssa giggled, delighted with her surprise. “Tris told me how much you admired the animal, and since I was responsible for dragging you away from Charter Oaks before you completed the transaction, I felt it was the very least I could do. The gift is also from your daughter.”
“Thank you, Alyssa,” Morgan said, crossing the room to embrace his wife. “ ’Tis a wonderful present. And now you must open my gift.” He handed Alyssa a small, gaily wrapped box.
Excited, she tore open the packaging, stiffening slightly when she saw the jewel box. Hesitantly, she lifted the lid, gasping loudly as she beheld the box’s contents: teardrop shaped emerald-and-diamond earrings matching her bridal necklace rested on a puffy satin lining, surrounded by a noble tiara of diamonds. Centered in the crown of the tiara shone the largest emerald Alyssa had ever seen.
“My goodness,” Caroline exclaimed, her eyes widening when she saw the magnificent gems. “Those jewels are fit for a queen, Alyssa.”
“Do you like it, sweetheart?” Morgan inquired, an anxious note in his voice.
“I am truly overwhelmed,” Alyssa responded. “I have never before seen anything like these jewels.”
“Very impressive,” Tristan agreed. Reaching behind the settee, Tristan picked up a large, unwrapped box sporting a lopsided red bow. “Your turn, Caroline,” he said, handing his wife the package.
Absently Caroline began untying the ribbon, her eyes still riveted to the sparkling gems Alyssa held so delicately in her hands. Inside Caroline’s box was another box, and inside that a third box. Caroline smiled indulgently at Tris, wondering what sort of a prank he was playing on her. Finally she pulled out a jewelry case not unlike Alyssa’s. With trembling hands she opened the case, giving a short shriek of excitement as she saw the contents.
“Why, it is just like mine,” Alyssa announced when Caroline lifted her tiara out of the box. “Except there are sapphires in place of the emeralds.”
Caroline swallowed hard, the tears gathering in her eyes. Tris sat on the arm of the settee and leaned over to kiss his wife.
“Still think you married the wrong brother?” he teased, nibbling on her ear.
“Oh, Tristan,” she said in a tearful voice. “Whatever shall I do with you?”
Tris folded his arms across his chest. “Why, you must give me my present,” he demanded.
“That I will do when we are alone,” Caroline whispered, handing him a short, square box. He tore through the wrappings like a child and was obviously very pleased with the rare jade horse statue inside.
“Come, let’s adjourn to the dinner table,” the dowager duchess requested. She lovingly fingered the delicate gold locket around her neck, her Christmas gift from Morgan and Alyssa. Inside the locket was a small painted likeness of Katherine. “I instructed Burke to set the food on the sideboard so we may serve ourselves. I wanted the servants to continue their celebration in the ballroom.”
As they feasted on oyster and lobster pies, roast beef with piccadilly sauce, rissole potatoes, and Brussels sprouts with walnuts, the conversation centered on the events of the day. Alyssa was serving the plum pudding with brandied hard sauce when Tristan mentioned the annual winter ball held at Ramsgate Castle.
“Will you host the winter ball at the castle this year?” Tristan asked his brother.
Morgan leaned back in his chair. “I hadn’t really given it much thought, Tris.” He stroked his chin in a reflective manner. “It would provide an excellent opportunity to introduce Alyssa into society, but I’m not certain she is up to the task.”
“I am feeling perfectly fit, Morgan,” Alyssa protested, giving him a saucy wink. He grinned back at her.
“Oh, do say you will consider it, Alyssa,” Caroline chimed in. She sat up importantly in her chair. “You know Tristan proposed to me at last year’s winter ball.”
“Must have indulged in too much wine,” Tristan grimaced mockingly. “Ouch,” he exclaimed, as Caroline punched his arm. “That hurt!”
“Serves you right for teasing Caroline,” the dowager duchess stated firmly. “It would be delightful having the ball this season. But only if you feel well enough, Alyssa. Caroline and I will naturally offer whatever assistance you need.”
“I really am fine,” Alyssa insisted, a bit daunted by the prospect of meeting so many strange people. She looked over at Morgan and saw the love in his eyes. Her confidence soared. “I think we should definitely host the ball. I promise to work very hard to ensure it will be a charming affair.”
“Good. It is settled,” the dowager duchess concluded. “We shall begin compiling the guest list tomorrow afternoon.”
The next morning Morgan and his secretary, Jason Cameron, were working on estate business when Burke announced an unexpected visitor.
“Lord Castlereagh,” Morgan exclaimed in surprise when the foreign minister entered the room. “I was unaware you were in Portsmouth.”
“We are visiting with Lady Castlereagh’s family in Southampton,” Lord Castlereagh began. “I received some very distressing news this morning and thought it imperative you be informed at once.” The foreign minister glanced pointedly at Jason Cameron, and the secretary, understanding his meaning, left the two men alone. “The two agents assigned to follow the Duponces have disappeared.”
“Disappeared?” Morgan repeated.
“The operatives failed to report at the prearranged destination. Currently I have agents scouring the countryside, but we are unable to locate them.” Lord Castlereagh sighed heavily. “There is more, I am afraid. Recently uncovered evidence suggests a member of your family is connected to the Falcon’s activities.”
“What!” Morgan shouted, instantly springing to his feet.
Lord Castlereagh rubbed his hands together nervously but continued with his report. “The evidence is quite damning. Perhaps you can explain to me how your brother, a second son and recently resigned army officer, is such a wealthy man?”
“My brother has come by his money honorably,” Morgan answered in a chilling tone. “If you collected the proper intelligence on him, you would know the truth. I refuse to tolerate any slurs upon Tristan’s character.” Morgan paced the room anxiously, his mind racing. “When we first started this entire venture, I was the implicated spy. It is obvious the Falcon has simply shifted the evidence to Tristan.”
“The case against your brother is much stronger,” Lord Castlereagh insisted. “He has had both access and opportunity to ferret out the information we planted. Money can be a strong motivation to even the most loyal of men.”
“You do not know what you are saying,” Morgan declared strongly. “I refuse to listen to any more of this nonsense without viewing this so-called evidence myself.”
“Unfortunately that is impossible,” Lord Castlereagh reported. “The operatives who have vanished were those gathering the evidence. The documents are now missing along with the men.”
“Enough!” Morgan shouted, slamming his fist down on the desk. “I have followed your instructions for the past few months with no results. ’Tis high time I took charge. From this point on we do things my way, Lord Castlereagh.”
“What exactly do you propose?”
“Our annual winter ball at Ramsgate Castle will take place in a few weeks. I intend to set a trap that will capture the Falcon and end this fiasco once and for all,” Morgan declared in a voice filled with determination.
“I shall lend whatever assistance you require,” Lord Castlereagh interjected.
“Good. I shall contact you after I have formulated my plans. You will need to provide the juicy bait for our trap. I trust you and Lady Castlereagh will be in attendance that evening?”
“Yes,” Lord Castlereagh answered with a small grin. “We will most certainly be at the ball. I have a strong suspicion it will prove to be a most memorable evening.”
“How are the arrangements for the ball coming, my dear?” Morgan said to Alyssa when he discovered her hunched over her writing desk later that afternoon.
“I am not entirely sure,” Alyssa confessed, holding up several pieces of paper. “I finally decided to work in my bedchamber, away from Grandmother, Caroline, and Mrs. Glyndon. ’Tis nearly impossible trying to concentrate on details while the three of them constantly reminisce about previous triumphs at other balls.”
“What are you working on now?” Morgan inquired sympathetically.
“The menu,” she answered. “I have given up trying to determine the quantity of food required. I’ve never fed three hundred people at one time. I shall list the various foods I want served and leave it to Mrs. Keenly to sort out the rest.”
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