Late for the Wedding (9 page)

She mumbled thickly, twisting beneath him, and struggled once again to free her right wrist. She was strong, he thought. So much stronger than she appeared.

“Not yet,” he muttered. “I want to feel you come apart in my hands.”

“Tobias.”

He probed deeper, harder. She cried out softly. Her eyes squeezed shut.

He stroked her until she was tight and desperate, and only then did he release her other wrist. She grabbed him to her, wrapping her legs around his waist.

He thrust himself into her hot passage.

She convulsed around him with another soft cry. The small pulses triggered his own climax. It swept through him like some invisible storm.

Together they fell into the whirlpool.

A long time later, he roused himself from the sweet, heavy lethargy that had stolen over him in the wake of passion. The cot was, indeed, too small for the two of them, but he was not inclined to complain.

The scent of their lovemaking hung in the air, ripe and potent. He knew that he would forever associate it with her.

She lay languidly on top of him, her head pillowed against his shoulder, her hair spilling across his chest. Her nightgown was bunched up around her waist. The candle had burned low, but there was enough light left to reveal the rounded contours of her bare hips and thighs.

He stroked the length of her spine with the flat of his palm all the way down to the soft curve of her buttocks.

“Asleep?” he asked softly.

“No,” she mumbled.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Whatever else happens, do not ever forget that.”

She stirred, raised her head, and kissed him softly on his mouth. “I love you also, Tobias. Whatever else happens, do not forget that.”

He threaded his fingers through her tumbled hair. “I will not, my sweet.”

It was as though they had taken their own private vows, he thought.

He shifted, reluctant to leave the warm bed. “I should return to my room.”

She smiled at him. The mysteries in her eyes deepened. She moved her hand deliberately down his stomach. Her fingers closed around him.

“Do you really want to spend what little is left of this night sleeping?” she asked.

He felt himself stir and harden.

“It occurs to me that it is a long drive back to Town,” he said against her throat. “We will have plenty of time for a refreshing nap.”

Chapter 8

The miniature volcano erupted with a high-pitched hiss of escaping vapor. There was a crackle from the interior of the little mountain, and sparks shot from the top.

The audience gasped in appreciation. The lecturer, a spindly gnome of a man named Horace Kirk, took a step forward and made a small bow. When he straightened, he beamed at the crowd that filled the hall.

“And thus ends my lecture on the nature of hot vapors,” he said. “My talk next week will concern the principles of electricity.”

A burst of applause filled the room.

Emeline, seated in the second row between Anthony and Priscilla, clapped along with everyone else.

Priscilla could scarcely contain her enthusiasm. She regarded the gnome as though he were one of the dashing romantic poets.

“Was that not the most astonishing experiment you have ever witnessed?” she whispered to Emeline beneath the cover of applause. “I vow, Mr. Kirk’s lectures have opened up a new world to me.”

“Very interesting,” Emeline agreed. Privately she conceded that she was far more intrigued by the subject of antiquities than she was by the wonders of electricity and chemistry, but she had to admit the demonstration that had just concluded was quite exciting. “I must tell you that when you suggested we subscribe to Mr. Kirk’s series of science lectures, I feared they would prove somewhat dull. But that is certainly not the case. Don’t you agree, Anthony?”

“I certainly do,” Anthony said with genuine appreciation. “It was an excellent notion, Priscilla.” He glanced at the small journal on her lap. “I see you managed to fill several more pages with notes again today.”

Priscilla clutched the journal to her bosom and gave Professor Kirk another enraptured glance. “I have learned so much from these lectures. I only wish that I could convince Mama to allow me to purchase some instruments and equipment. I would give anything to be able to set up a proper laboratory where I could conduct experiments. But she refuses to even consider the notion.”

Emeline was not surprised by that news. She had no difficulty whatsoever imagining Lady Wortham’s horrified reaction to the idea of Priscilla setting up a laboratory.

Lady Wortham took her responsibilities as a mother quite seriously. Her chief ambition in life was to see her daughter married to a respectable gentleman from a good family, preferably one who was in line to inherit a comfortable fortune. To that end she had a great deal to work with, Emeline thought, because Priscilla was a very attractive young woman.

True, her friend’s hair was a shade of molten gold that was not considered to be in the first stare of fashion, but Emeline thought the color complemented her blue eyes quite effectively. She also knew that she was not alone in that opinion. Priscilla certainly never lacked for dancing partners at the balls and soirees they attended together. Regardless of the prevailing views of those who set the fashion, it was clear that any number of gentlemen were attracted to ladies with blond hair.

Not that her friend did not possess a number of other fine attributes. In addition to a kind, charming manner, Priscilla was endowed with pretty, delicate features and a gracefully full, rounded figure.

It was unfortunate, in Emeline’s private opinion, that Lady Wortham insisted that her daughter dress only in pink. The color did not particularly suit her.

But as far as Emeline was concerned, her companion’s best features were her intelligence, good humor, and common sense. Those were the factors that had allowed a genuine friendship to blossom between the two of them.

By rights they should have viewed each other as rivals, Emeline thought. Their acquaintance had been fostered and encouraged originally by Lady Wortham for less than altruistic reasons. Priscilla’s matchmaking mama liked the notion of her daughter going about with Emeline because she believed that her offspring’s looks were set off to advantage by the contrast between the two young women.

Emeline was well-aware that her chief claim to fashion was her thick, dark hair. In other respects, she knew very well that she did not meet the demands of true connoisseurs of style. She was too tall and too slender and her personality was much too forthright. The last was no accident. She had deliberately patterned herself after her aunt. Lavinia rarely bothered to veil her intelligence, nor did she hesitate to state her opinions.

“After all those explosive demonstrations, I believe I feel the need of some cooling ice cream,” Anthony announced, getting to his feet. “Can I persuade the two of you to join me?”

“You will not have to ask me a second time,” Emeline assured him. “It is very warm in this hall, is it not?”

“Ice cream sounds wonderful,” Priscilla said. “It is rather hot in here. I had not noticed until this moment.”

Emeline laughed. “That is because you were too occupied with the wonders of Professor Kirk’s demonstrations.”

Anthony stood back to allow Emeline and Priscilla to go ahead of him down the aisle toward the front of the hall. The crowd thickened briefly as several people left their seats at the same time and made for the doors.

When the path cleared a moment later, Emeline caught sight of the man who lounged with negligent ease, one shoulder propped against the wall. A disturbing sensation went around her. This was not the first time Dominic Hood had materialized in the vicinity of herself and her companions in the past few days.

“Bloody hell,” Anthony muttered behind her. “Hood is here.”

Priscilla was the only one who was unabashedly delighted to see him. “I did not know that Mr. Hood was interested in science.”

“What an astounding surprise,” Anthony growled.

“Calm yourself,” Emeline said in low tones. “I do not know why it is that you and Mr. Hood have taken such a dislike to each other, but I do not want any awkward scenes today. Is that understood?”

“What occurred yesterday at the museum was not my fault.”

“Mr. Hood may have started things off on the wrong foot when he gave us his opinion of that statue of Hercules and the Hydra, but you, sir, made matters a good deal worse when you informed him that he knew nothing about art.”

“I merely spoke the truth,” Anthony said, icily virtuous. “Hood has no eye for art or antiquities.”

“That may be true, but it was very poor manners to tell him so to his face.”

“He should have kept his remarks about the statue to himself. I wonder if he will prove to be as ignorant about science?”

“I am serious, Anthony. There will be no scenes. Do you understand?”

He smiled coldly in a way that was uncomfortably reminiscent of Mr. March.

“I give you my word that I will not start a public quarrel,” he said.

There was no time to pin him down on the details of that too-precisely phrased promise, because they had almost reached the door. Emeline busied herself tying her bonnet strings. She used the moment to study Dominic Hood more closely, wondering again what it was that had created such immediate hostility between him and Anthony.

In her opinion, they should have been instant friends, she thought. On the surface, they appeared to have a great deal in common. Dominic was the same age as Anthony, who had turned twenty-two last month. They were also of a similar height and both were endowed with lean, athletic frames.

They shared a sense of style too, she thought. The coat Dominic wore was remarkably similar to Anthony's, dark blue and cut to emphasize his shoulders. Their pleated trousers and patterned waistcoats were almost identical. They both had handsome fobs attached to their pocket watches and intricate knots tied in their snowy white cravats.

It was true that Dominic appeared to possess the sort of resources that enabled him to patronize a more expensive tailor, but the overall effect was nearly identical to the effect that Anthony’s tailor achieved. Perhaps that was because neither man depended on his clothes for the impression he made, Emeline thought. Each of them radiated a certain forcefulness of personality that would have been obvious even if both dressed in rags.

At that moment Dominic straightened away from the wall and inclined his head to Priscilla and Emeline.

“Ladies,” he said, “what a pleasure to see you here today. You are both in excellent looks.”

“Mr. Hood.” Priscilla glowed. “You did not mention that you would be attending Professor Kirk’s lecture today.”

“Science is a hobby of mine,” he said laconically. His eyes met Anthony's. There was no mistaking the challenge in them. “Do you claim the same expertise in chemistry and related matters as you do in art and antiquities, Sinclair?”

“No,” Anthony said brusquely. “I have not made a close study of science.”

“I see,” Dominic drawled. “Perhaps that is for the best. Comprehension of the principles of electricity, astronomy, and the like requires a mind that is trained in logic and reason. Science is quite different from art and antiquities in that it is not subject to the whims of fashion, taste, and emotion. It follows the laws of nature instead.”

Emeline felt Anthony stiffen angrily. She hastened to take charge of the conversation.

“I thought today’s lecture was particularly enlightening,” she said quickly. “Especially the last demonstration, with the model volcano.”

“Positively exhilarating,” Priscilla declared.

“It was entertaining.” Dominic shrugged. “I will grant you that. But when you come right down to it, I’m afraid Professor Kirk is more showman than chemist.”

Priscilla frowned slightly. “What do you mean, Mr. Hood?”

Dominic switched his attention to her. “I am currently working on a new formula for fireworks explosives that I assure you would produce effects far more spectacular than those Kirk created with his silly volcano.”

Priscilla’s eyes widened. “You have your own laboratory, sir?”

“Yes.”

“But that is wonderful,” Priscilla breathed. “What instruments and apparatus do you own, if I may ask?”

Dominic hesitated, looking torn. Emeline got the distinct impression that he’d had another goal in mind when he had intercepted them at the door. She thought it best to keep pushing him in this other direction.

“Indeed, Mr. Hood,” she said, “this sounds very intriguing. Please tell us about your laboratory equipment.”

“I possess the usual assortment,” he allowed finally. “A microscope, an electrical machine, telescope, a balance, some chemical apparatus.”

“Your very own electrical machine.” Priscilla was clearly dazzled. “You are extremely fortunate, sir. I would give anything to possess a properly equipped laboratory.”

Emeline felt a small rush of curiosity. “Can you create little balls of fire that fly about, the way Professor Kirk did today?”

“Certainly. Kirk’s lightning show was no more than a simple trick.” He paused, glanced at Priscilla, and then smiled very deliberately at Emeline. “I can arrange some demonstrations that I think you would find even more exciting than those Kirk performed for you this afternoon.”

“I would love to see them,” Priscilla said quickly.

“It does sound intriguing,” Emeline agreed. “I must admit, I have not taken a great interest in science until recently, but Mr. Kirk’s lectures have been quite stimulating.”

Anthony’s jaw hardened. “Out of the question. The two of you cannot possibly go to Hood’s lodgings unaccompanied. You both know that very well.”

Priscilla looked crestfallen. “I wonder if I could persuade Mama to accompany us.”

She did not sound hopeful, Emeline thought.

“I doubt that Lady Wortham would care to spend a morning viewing science demonstrations,” Anthony said flatly.

“I suppose you are right,” Priscilla said. She looked resigned. “Mama is more concerned with fashion.”

Dominic’s jaw tensed.

“Well, that is that.” Anthony checked his pocket watch. “It is getting late, ladies. We had best be on our way if we are to stop for ice cream.”

Emeline could not abide the deep disappointment in Priscilla’s eyes. “I’m sure that I would have no difficulty persuading Aunt Lavinia to escort us to a demonstration at your laboratory, Mr. Hood.”

Priscilla’s expression warmed with gratitude. “Do you really think Mrs. Lake would be willing to do that?”

“I do not see why not,” Emeline said. “When she returns from her visit to the country I will ask her.”

“Thank you.” Priscilla was buoyant. “That is so kind of you, Emeline.”

Dominic shot Anthony a triumphant smile and then bowed politely to Emeline and Priscilla.

“I shall look forward to entertaining the two of you and Mrs. Lake as well at your earliest convenience,” he said. “My lodgings are in Stelling Street.”

He turned on the heel of one gleaming Hessian and walked out of the hall and down the steps without a backward glance.

Anthony said nothing, but Emeline could feel the anger simmering in him.

For the first time in their relationship, she was worried.

An hour and a half later, after escorting a still-exuberant Priscilla to her door, Emeline and Anthony walked back to Number 7 Claremont Lane.

It was a lovely day for a stroll, Emeline thought. Surely there was no finer place on earth than London on a summer afternoon. Sunlight warmed the lush green parks where children played with balls and small wagons. The flower sellers’ carts brimmed with a profusion of colorful blossoms. Fruitmongers offered an array of juicy peaches and pears, sweet grapes, and an assortment of berries. Everyone seemed more cheerful and more brightly garbed than they did in winter.

Then again, maybe she felt that way because she was with the man she loved, she thought. What a pity Anthony was in such a foul mood.

“Do you know,” she said, aiming for a harmless topic, “until she suggested that we subscribe to Mr. Kirk’s lectures, I had no notion that Priscilla had such a great interest in science. She told me that her mama warned her not to discuss the subject in polite company because she would be labeled a bore by her friends.”

“Lady Wortham is the bore in that family.”

“I suspect it would be more accurate to say that she is merely a devoted parent attempting to do her best to make an excellent match for Priscilla.”