Pride and Fire (18 page)

“I have all the cards, love,” he said, his voice a low purr.

“And?” She tried to slow her racing pulse. “What is it you want?”

His lost his grin. He studied her for a long moment, a question in his eyes. She knew what he was asking. Could she put aside their argument, his harsh words? She licked her lips. Finally, she nodded. Leaving the cards in a pile on the floor, he grabbed her hand. They raced from the room, barely making it up to their chamber before tearing off each other’s clothes.

Later, after their passion was satisfied, Michelle lay with her head resting on Paul’s chest. He breathed deeply in his sleep, a small smile on his handsome face. She sighed and cuddled closer.

She thought about their explosive release, there in the chamber. He’d taken her twice, loving her with his hands and mouth until she’d shattered into a million pieces. Her mind went further back to the intense argument of that afternoon. She’d learn what those documents were about. No matter what Paul said, they were husband and wife and should have no secrets between them.

She awoke the next morning to an intriguing tickle against her cheek. When the culprit—Paul’s finger, perhaps?—traced over her lips she stirred and her eyes fluttered open.

“Paul,” she said sleepily, a smile curving her lips.

“Good morning, wife,” he said softly.

He shifted in the bed and stretched out on top of her, his weight supported by his elbows. “I need to hear it, Michelle.” He cupped her face in his hands and stared down at her. “I need you to say you forgive me for yesterday.”

Michelle dragged her gaze from his. He brought his lips to hers and kissed her gently. She returned his kiss as she wriggled beneath him, reminding her that nothing lay between their bodies. He groaned in response, and she could feel him grow hard against her belly.

“Tell me, love,” he whispered, his breath warm on her neck.

“Paul, I…”

“Your body has forgiven me.” He trailed kisses over her throat, her breasts. “Last night proved that.”

She whimpered as he flicked his tongue over her nipple. He closed his mouth over the hardened nub.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I forgive you.”

He pulled his head up. “I’ll try to keep my temper with you, Michelle.”

“Not bloody likely,” she muttered.

He laughed deep in his throat. They spent the early morning hours pleasuring each other and took a very late breakfast.

* * * *

Lords Chester and Roberts called upon them shortly before lunchtime. Michelle invited the gentlemen to stay to luncheon, an invitation they happily accepted. Afterwards, Paul and his friends retired to his study.

Paul had his father’s ledgers sent over, though Mr. Graves voiced his objections before complying. Paul worried over the entries while Chester and Roberts discussed ways to learn where the money had gone.

“Leed,” Roberts began, “I know this isn’t something that would occur to you, but is it possible your father has a mistress?”

Paul looked up from the ledgers. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Chester shook his head. “If your father was keeping company with a woman, surely the twins would know about it.”

“True,” Roberts allowed.

Silence fell over the room once more as the gentlemen considered the possibilities. Roberts suddenly started, drawing Paul’s notice.

“What?” Paul asked.

“Your father doesn’t attend the bashes,” Robert said.

“And?” Chester prodded when Roberts didn’t continue.

Roberts wore a sly grin. “Where does he go?”

“You don’t think he could be meeting a woman?” Chester asked, his brows arched in surprise. “Someone outside his social circle?”

“It’s possible,” Paul said. “My father isn’t elderly, and still passable in looks.”

“We need to find out where he’s going, Leed,” Roberts said.

“We don’t know that he goes anywhere, Roberts,” Chester argued. “Leed, whenever we drop by to escort your sisters, he’s usually dressed comfortably.”

“As if he were planning a quiet evening at home,” Paul said.

“Yes,” Chester said. “What are you getting at?”

“He’s obviously spending his money, Chester,” Paul said. “Why not at night when my sisters are out?”

Chester’s eyes grew round. “You don’t think he brings in a…a…?”

“I think no such thing,” Paul said with mild irritation. “I’m saying perhaps he goes out as soon as the twins leave.”

Roberts rubbed his chin. “But where?”

Paul shrugged.

“Leed,” Chester began, “I know it’s unpleasant, but I think we should follow your father for a while.”

“It’s unavoidable, I fear.” Paul blew out a breath. “If my father would be truthful about this past year, it wouldn’t be necessary.”

The three gentlemen fell silent.

“We have your permission, then?” Roberts finally asked.

“Certainly,” Paul said. “And my confidence.”

His friends nodded their thanks.

“And if there is a woman involved?” Roberts asked. “What then?”

Paul suddenly grinned. “That’s when we’ll rely on
your
expertise, Roberts.”

“Me?” Roberts started. “But what of Chester?”

Chester’s burst of laughter quieted Roberts. “I daresay Leed doesn’t possess the same faith in my abilities to charm the answers out of the fairer sex as he does yours, Roberts.”

“Yes,” Paul said. “If there’s a woman involved, Roberts, I can’t think of anyone more suited to get to the truth.”

Roberts smiled in response. Chester and Roberts stood then.

“We’ll see you at this evening’s round of parties, Leed,” Chester said.

“Yes.” Paul saw them to the door, surprised to find Michelle standing in the foyer. She started and turned, focusing her attention on rearranging some flowers in the vase on the hall table. He quickly noted several petals and leaves littered the smooth surface of the table.

“Do you need something, love?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” she answered, flustered. “It’s just you and your friends were in your study for so long, and… These flowers are lovely, aren’t they?”

Paul shook his head at her, certain she was curious about what they discussed. Though he wouldn’t share the problems with his own funds and his father’s, the look of interest on her face caused his grin to widen.

“Lady Michelle,” Roberts bowed to her. “I trust we’ll see you this evening?”

“This evening?” she asked, turning to her husband.

“Yes, wife,” Paul put in. “At the bashes.”

“Oh, yes,” she nodded, turning once more to the vase.

Chester and Roberts bade the couple farewell and took their leave.

Paul closed the door and hugged Michelle from behind. “I believe those flowers have taken enough of a beating, love.”

“What? Oh!” she said, suddenly seeing the mess she was making. She turned in his arms. “I admit, husband, I grew tired of waiting for you.”

He kissed her lightly. “Why don’t we go into the parlor for some tea?”

She quirked a half-smile at him. “Oh no, Paul,” she said with mock-severity. “The parlor has become a dangerous place of late.”

He let her lead him into the front sitting room.

“My compliments on the changes you’ve wrought in this room, Michelle.”

“Thank you.”

He plopped himself down on the silver-gray chaise and looked up at her. “I especially like this piece, wife.” He bounced a bit. “Seems quite sturdy.”

She caught his meaning and clicked her tongue. “Never mind. I’d like there to be at least one room in this house where I’m not reminded of our…our…”

“Coupling?” he provided with a wide grin.

Michelle’s mouth gaped open. “That’s not what I was going to say!”

Paul grabbed her hand and pulled her down to sit beside him. “We’re married, Michelle. There is no cause to be ashamed of our passion.”

“Oh, I’m not ashamed.”

Relieved, he hugged her gently to him. She pressed against him, a soft purring sound coming from the back of her throat. Stirrings of desire tickled him, the passion that flared so quickly amazed him. He simply had to get her out of the room or he’d take her right there on the sturdy gray chaise. He dropped a chaste kiss on her brow and stood, taking her with him. She looked up at him in mild surprise.

“Tea, love,” he answered her unasked question.

“Just tea, husband,” she said. He shrugged and she swatted his arm. “The dining room?”

He shook his head.

“Paul, what are you thinking?”

He bent his head to hers. “I’m thinking you would find the table most uncomfortable.”

He silenced her gasp of outrage with his mouth, kissing her thoroughly. Grinning, he led her into the parlor.

* * * *

A long while later, Michelle was upstairs readying herself for the evening’s parties. She’d been on pins and needles that afternoon, curious to learn what Paul and his friends had discussed in his study. She’d occupied herself with rearranging the front sitting room, coming out into the foyer every so often to stare at the closed door to the study. But she wouldn’t ask him. No. Her curiosity was the cause of their terrible argument yesterday.

She could certainly put their argument aside and go on with their marriage. She loved him. But could she forgive him for treating her like an outsider?

She sat at the vanity running her brush through her curls, clad in her chemise and petticoat. Her hair was much curlier than before Betsy had cut it. She let her mind drift. Her blood warmed as she thought back to the hot looks Paul had given her over the rim of his tea cup. She wondered if it would always be this way between them, if he would always set her pulse racing with just one glance. Lord, she fervently hoped it would last forever.

Paul stepped out of the dressing room at that moment. He wore his usual formal attire, black with a crisp white shirt and cravat. Nonetheless, when Michelle spotted him in the oval mirror atop the vanity her heart skipped a beat. No worries here, then.

She turned and favored him with a smile. “Paul.”

“Why aren’t you dressed yet, love?”

She stood to face him. “I’ve called for Betsy.”

Paul crossed the room and caressed her bare shoulders. “Personally, I prefer what you’re wearing right now to anything from your dressing room.”

Michelle shot him a look of warning. “Betsy will be here in a moment, husband.”

He sighed dramatically and dropped his hands to his side. “Very well. I’ll be downstairs in my study.”

She nodded and watched him go, admiring his easy stride. Her lady’s maid joined her then and busily set to work on her hair. A short time later Michelle studied the shining curls piled atop her head, pleased with Betsy’s handiwork. Michelle stepped into her emerald green gown and dismissed her after the maid fastened the hooks in the back.

Michelle searched through her jewelry and located the beautiful emerald necklace she’d worn with the dress the night of the Winslow bash. She smiled as she remembered that night, their awkward dance, their heated exchange on the terrace. Paul had kissed her for the first time that night.

She donned the necklace and fastened the matching earrings on her earlobes. Pulling on her long satin gloves, she hurried downstairs to meet her husband.

“I’m quite ready,” she announced from the doorway to the study.

Paul looked up. His eyes glittered as they roamed over her and she flushed hotly.

He came to his feet. “My God, you look incredible.” His eyes fell on the exquisite emerald necklace which rested below the hollow of her throat. He reached out and touched the gems, an unreadable expression on his face. “More of your jewelry?”

“Yes,” she said. “You’ve seen this piece before.”

He brought his gaze to her face. “I’ve seen this on you?”

She nodded. “The night of the Winslow ball.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Love, I assure you I saw nothing that night beyond your beautiful face.”

Michelle smiled over his romantic words.

“And, of course,” he added with a glint in his eyes, “how delectable you looked in this dress.”

She laughed and put her arm through his. “Come, husband. The parties await.”

He led her out to the waiting carriage. Once settled on the seat beside his wife Paul leaned back, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He held her gloved hand in his as the carriage pulled away from the curb.

“Well, wife” he began, “this is probably the last round of parties we’ll attend until next Season.”

Michelle nodded. It was very nearly August twelfth, which brought the adjournment of Parliament and the opening of grouse-hunting season. Most of the
ton
left London for their estates in the country, not to return to Town until well after Christmas.

“Where will we go?” she asked.

“I’m afraid my estate in Leeds is uninhabitable at present, love.”

“What of Talbot Hall?”

He stiffened. “I hadn’t thought about visiting my father’s.”

She put aside his odd reaction. “My mother asked if we’d spend some time with her at Thomasham.”

He looked at her in surprise.

“I do so want to spend time at my family’s home in Derbyshire,” she added.

“That would suit.”

He almost looked relieved. Why? Michelle set that thought aside and clasped her hands. “We can give a ball, husband. And your sisters and father could stay, and our friends, and… Oh, it will be quite brilliant!”

He chuckled over her enthusiasm. “That does sound wonderful, love.”

“How long will we stay at Thomasham?”

“As long as you wish.”

She settled back beside him for the remainder of the ride, thinking about the ball they’d host together at Thomasham.

The first bash was in full swing as Paul helped Michelle down from the carriage. He escorted her up the wide stone steps and into the entryway. Their hostess was on hand to greet the guests as they arrived and strains of music reached them as they turned to enter the main salon.

Paul grasped her elbow as they stepped down into the room. She let out a little squeal of delight. He turned to her in question.

“They’re here, husband.” She smiled. “Lord and Lady Kanewood.”