The Charmer (20 page)

A groan passed from her mouth into his. “That's right, darling. Let me know what you like,” he whispered.

One hand pressed lower to her hips and thighs. With smooth slides he removed what was left of her clothing, leaving her atop him completely naked.

He parted her legs until she straddled his lap. The change left his phallus nestled erotically against the cleft of her bottom. He lifted one of her knees and hitched it over the chair's arm, spreading her into an exposed position.

Punishing her mouth with a savage kiss, he stroked the soft flesh of her raised thigh while his other hand continued arousing her breast. Desire veered into a screaming need for him to explore her open vulnerability. Her entire consciousness focused on how badly she wanted him to touch her down there.

He did, and she arched and cried from the magnificent shock of it. He kept his hand to her, exploring her reactions, arousing astonishing pleasure and tension. His voice spoke lowly, praising the beauty of her abandon, but she barely heard him through the primal sounds springing from her primitive essence. Every gasping breath came out a moan or a cry. Her hips rose and fell, shamelessly begging.

He moved the caresses to a specific spot of sensitivity. She shot to an unworldly height of pleasure, a frightening place of excitement so sharp that it was almost painful. She tried to retreat and grabbed his hand to push it away.

He would not let her. “You do not run away tonight, darling. Not from me,” he said with his mouth pressed to her temple.

She could not fight the intensity. With a helpless groan she surrendered and with a throaty scream she died. Only the death was a blissful moment, full of pure pleasure and heavenly release.

He carried her to the bed and laid her down. His body came over hers and she clutched him, joyed to finally embrace him and grateful to hold on to his reality amidst the unworldly sensuality in which she floated.

He was as careful and gentle as one could expect, but not careful and gentle enough.

She winced at the quick stretching. A burning tear brought her back from the edges of paradise.

He froze. Her gaze drifted up the naked chest suddenly motionless above her on taut arms. She ventured a glance at his face.

“You should have told me.”

“Perhaps you should not have assumed otherwise.”

“I can be excused, I think.”

“Would it have made a difference? Would you have gone all honorable on me?”

“I don't know.”

She caressed his chest. “Are you angry?” He looked it, a little.

He dipped to kiss her. “No. I am flattered.” He moved. “I will try not to hurt you more.”

He didn't hurt her at all. He entranced her, enthralled her, and mesmerized her. The physical joining astonished her heart and soul even more than his hands had amazed her body. Something beckoned to her much like the release had. Something spiritual and glorious and promising heaven. It stirred in her emotions and whispered in rhythm to his body.
Give yourself. Lose yourself. Believe. Trust.

Toward the end, she knew astonishing pleasure again. Not with the physical fracture of before, but instead with an emotion-drenched joy that reveled in absorbing his demanding need and accepting his erupting passion and finally enfolding his spent strength.

He moved off her and pulled her into an embrace that connected their whole bodies. She savored the eloquent silence, and marveled at the new awareness of herself and him that had just been born.

He had lied. He
was
angry. Not at her, but at what she was and how that framed the implications of what had just happened.

He brushed damp curls away from her face and tucked her closer. He had not been nearly as surprised as he should have been. Maybe he secretly had not assumed otherwise at all. The truth fit with what he knew of her life and saw in her depths. But admitting the possibility would have made tonight impossible, and so he had chosen to accept her pose of worldly sophistication.

He rose on one arm and looked down at her serene contentment. “Why me?”

“Maybe I trusted you to do England proud.” She smiled impishly, but her eyes met his with a silent request that he not insist that she search her heart for a serious answer.

“All those years. All those permanent guests and French gentlemen. Did nary a one touch your heart?”

“One or two. I would have never given them such a hold on me, however. It was not me they wanted. Not really. It was always something else.”

Yes, she would assume that. Her own father had used her as a way to get something else. She would take it for granted that anyone's attention had ulterior motives.

It pained him that she had lived so many years with the loneliness that must have created. What must it be like to accept that every offer of friendship or love was really an attempt to procure your wealth or patronage or even Everdon itself? She had gone to France convinced that she had no value except for those things.

She may have finally accepted that was not the case with him. He would have to be very careful not to disillusion her.

Which restricted his reaction to tonight as surely as her position as the Duchess of Everdon did. It was that which angered him.

With any other woman he would be honor-bound to offer marriage now. The bastard son of an earl's wife did not propose to a duchess in her own right, however, even if he had just taken her innocence. Nor could Adrian Burchard do the right thing by Sophia Raughley, because the prize of Everdon would taint the purity of his motives.

She nestled snugly, her expression one of utter peace. He tightened his embrace on her soft body and kissed her cheek. “You are a beautiful, magnificent woman.”

She blinked surprise, then smiled skeptically. “It is gallant of you to say so.”

“Not gallant. Stay in England and I will say it again, often, until you believe me. Until you see your own worth and understand who you really are.”

She looked troubled, as if facing who she really was must surely lead to disappointment. He would have gladly killed Alistair right then if the man was not already blessedly gone.

“Are you offering me a liaison, Adrian?”

“Yes. And affection and friendship and help, if you want them.” He could not include more, nor could she accept it.

“You can do better than me.”

“There is no one better, and no one else I want. I am not just being gallant, but if you think I am, humor me for a few weeks at least. You can always leave later if you doubt my affection, or decide an affair is not worth the risks.”

Or decide to choose an appropriate consort for the Duchess of Everdon. No, in that event, he would be the one to leave. He had told Dot that he would not make it difficult for her, and he wouldn't.

She turned in his arms and clung to him. “Maybe I am magnificent when I am with you. I feel as if I might be.”

“You surely are.”

She nestled her face into the crook of his neck and breathed deeply. “Show me again, Adrian. Make love to me again. Can we?”

He could. With his body he showed her just how beautiful and magnificent she was to him. With more emotion than he had ever known before, he called forth her glorious passion from beneath the layers and then lost himself in it.

Afterwards he watched the contented peace reclaim her as she believed in herself for a while once more.

She did not make the tide. When the ships in port set sail, she was nestled asleep in his arms.

chapter
20

I
have been thinking about the Marquess of Northford,” Dot said. White wisps blew around her head from the little gale raised by her snapping fan.

“For what reason?” Adrian asked, appreciating the bit of breeze wafting to him. Parliament had adjourned early and he had ridden over to Dincaster House in search of Colin, only to find him visiting Dorothy in her dainty private sitting room. He had joined them, and at Dot's generous invitation had stripped down to shirt and trousers like Colin, so as not to swelter on this unbearably hot August day.

“For Sophia. Surely you saw the letter in today's gazette, calling on the lords to gird for battle to slay the dragon of mob rule. It pointedly referred to a certain peeress who needs to ensure that a certain seat in the House of Lords is filled soon, in case a Reform Bill passes the Commons.”

“Why the marquess?” Colin asked. “In case you don't know, Dot, he's—”

“Exactly. He has not even done his duty to his family line and the succession. If he ever married, he would accept that his wife had a lover.”

Silence greeted this casual observation.

“It is one solution, is all that I am saying. Not an ideal one, I will admit, but not unheard of.”

“I think that we should let the duchess manage her own affairs,” Colin said.

Adrian agreed. In fact, Sophia was proving adept at managing her affairs. She had arranged her two-month affair with him with fastidious discretion.

She had moved to a leased house while Everdon House was being repaired. She had chosen one several streets from his chambers, and made sure that it was small enough to require only Jenny and Charles and a few servants whom Charles assured would be discreet. Besides those retainers, only Colin and Dot knew that many nights Adrian walked down an alley and through a walled back garden and into Sophia's arms.

It was often midnight when he slipped into bed beside her. Night debates at the Commons kept him late. Endless, raucous debates. Traditional alliances had begun to crumble. Demonstrating crowds daily reminded him and his colleagues that they held the fate of a great nation in their hands. One misstep might plunge the country into massive bloodshed.

The knowledge that Sophia carefully studied all the speeches as reported in the newspapers had something to do with his new willingness to listen to the other side.

He would have liked to talk to her about it. Conversation might help him to work out his chaotic ideas. He had promised never to do so, however, because she might think that he was not seeking a sympathetic ear, but instead trying to influence her. She might then conclude that he had seduced her only to continue his old mission.

It was one of the sore points that kept their affair from being perfect. Another was the pressure on her to marry. Those exhortations had now become public. More worrisome was the concern that their lovemaking invited a pregnancy that would make her future precarious.

He hoped that they would dodge that. If they didn't, the only way to avoid horrible scandal would be for her to negotiate a quick marriage to a man appropriate to her position. Eventually that would be inevitable, but he had no desire to hasten the day when they had to part.

“If it came to it, Northford might be a solution,” he said, thinking aloud.

“And you would become the intimate family friend?” Colin asked. “It would be a humiliating arrangement for everyone. You deserve better. In fact, I don't see why you don't marry her yourself. You are far better equipped to exercise Everdon's power than the Marquess of Northford, or the other men being shoved at her.”

“You know it isn't possible,” Dot soothed.

“The reasons why are stupid ones. What could anyone do? Burn her at the stake? As to Adrian's birth, Father did not repudiate him. In the eyes of the law, Adrian is an earl's son.”

“In the eyes of the law, but not in the eyes of the world,” Adrian said.

“To hell with the world.”

It was the retort of a man who owned the world, and so could easily dismiss its importance. The security to do that was the only thing about his brother's superior fortune in life that Adrian envied.

Dot changed the subject by asking about the day's debate. Adrian regaled them with a description of the outbreak of fisticuffs that had led to Parliament's early dismissal.

After a half hour, he and Colin took their leave. They went to Colin's chambers to fetch fresh cravats and make themselves presentable.

“I came to ask some favors of you,” Adrian said.

Colin tied his neckpiece while he gazed in the mirror. “Something time-consuming, I hope. Aside from the fun when the new London Bridge opened, this summer has been boring. I'd go down to the country, but everyone is here.”

“The first favor will only occupy one night. I would like you to escort Sophia to the coronation ball.” King William was due to be crowned in several weeks, now that mourning for the last King had ended.

“I think that you should, not me.”

“I expect to be unwell that day.”

“I do not agree with how you are handling this. She is not some child. If an affair is suspected, it will not be the undoing of either of you. Besides, there is no declaration in merely walking her into a ballroom.”

Adrian went to work on his own cravat. “My request has nothing to do with what is between Sophia and me.”

Colin frowned in perplexity, then his brow suddenly cleared. “Is he coming? For the coronation?”

“I received word from the embassy that he is.”

“Doesn't seem fair that you should miss the ball.”

“The palace is planning a modest affair, so there will not be that much to miss. I can hardly be in the same room with him. Despite his age and beard, the resemblance might be noticed if we are seen together, and a coronation ball is the last place where I would want to reinflame that scandal. Our mother asked that I never embarrass the earl and you and Gavin.”

“That promise has proven a stranglehold on you, and it was unfair of her to demand it.”

“It was part of her agreement with the earl, made while she carried me. To refuse to honor it after her death would be selfish and inexcusable.”

“That agreement was for my sake and Gavin's. So that she would stay and we would have our mother.”

“And mine. So that I could stay and have
my
mother.”

“Still, we are all grown now, and she is gone.”

“I do not owe the earl much, Colin, but I do owe him this. I will not invite speculation about either my birth or my relationship with the duchess by attending with her on my arm while a man with my eyes stands among the foreign dignitaries. You know that my choice is the right one.”

“Probably so, but I do not understand your equanimity about either situation. Your feelings for the duchess are very obvious to me. I would like you to have some happiness, and how happy can you be if you conduct an affair of the heart assuming that it will end?”

Happier than I have ever been in my life,
Adrian thought. As happy as the situation will permit. However, Colin had touched the biggest sore point in the affair, and one that Adrian carefully avoided pressing, because doing so might destroy the joy.

Although it was certainly an affair of the heart, she was not in love with him. She needed him and trusted him and felt great affection. In her own careful way, maybe she even loved him, but she was not
in love.
She would not let herself take that final step.

Sometimes when they embraced he could sense it in her, like something fighting against restraints, but she was too afraid to let it free.

Just as well. It could not last. Sooner or later something would convince her of that. Then he would retreat as he had sworn to himself that he would. Doing so would be difficult, however, because he
had
fallen in love with her.

Colin broke into his thoughts. “There was another favor?”

“One that will give you something to do. I want you to look for Captain Brutus. I do not have the time, and it is vital to track him down.”

“An investigation? Sounds almost as diverting as our duchess hunt. I will take up the charge with enthusiasm.”

“I will explain what little I have learned, then, and hope that you can do better.”

It was all Burchard's fault. Her protector was giving her more confidence in her safety than she had any right to have. The man had become an unacceptable interference. The solution was obvious. Get rid of him, and she would be helpless.

He considered that as he slipped into the garden and crept toward the duchess's house. Beside him another figure crept too. He had thought long and hard before getting help this time, but he would need someone keeping watch. This house was not so large as the other, and there would be no place to hide if a cry was raised while he was inside.

Still, he preferred acting alone. No one knew better than he did what could happen if another person knew one's secrets and plans. Betrayal was always a possibility. He had no intention of being vulnerable again if he could help it.

His companion felt the door's latch, and made a gesture to indicate it was unbolted. Now, that was convenient. And irritating. Sophia acted as if Captain Brutus represented no threat at all. By now she should know better.

He pulled a letter out of his coat. Well, this missive would make it explicit, even if the fire had not.

He began to turn the latch.

Adrian slipped through the portal of Sophia's garden well past midnight. The Commons had sat very late, due to an upcoming adjournment because of the coronation festivities.

The hour had made him contemplate not coming. She would be asleep, and it would be selfish to disturb her. But he needed to find some peace in her arms. Holding her would soothe the inner turmoil churned up by the day's events.

Three Tories had moved to the reform camp this afternoon. Two of them held seats sure to be abolished if reform passed. One was a protégé of Peel. He had watched them cross the aisle, knowing as well as they that the act was political suicide. He should have been furious with their defections. Instead he had admired their independence and adherence to principle.

As he ambled through the garden to the house, he contemplated that unexpected reaction. His thoughts occupied most of his mind, but an essential, primitive part remained aware of his surroundings.

It was that part that made him abruptly halt halfway to the house.

Something shifted in the dark up ahead. A shadow moved near the building. His blood instantly pounded with alarm for Sophia. Easing over near the wall, he slid forward.

A man crouched near the door. Adrian could barely make out his shape, but it appeared he was trying to enter.

The black fury that he had known after the fire broke again. He rushed forward, determined to catch the culprit. With any luck it would be Captain Brutus himself. Even if it was only a minion, he would at least have a lead to the elusive radical.

He lunged at the shadow and grappled him to the ground. They sprawled and fought in a melee of confusion. Quickly getting the upper hand, he forced the intruder onto his stomach and pressed his knee into his back while he twisted and imprisoned one arm.

The air stirred behind him. His instincts snapped alert, but it was already too late. A hissed curse floated to his ear just as something slammed into his head and the dark night swallowed him.

A gentle yank pulled Sophia out of her dreams. Blinking, she looked up to see Jenny and Charles flanking her bed.

“You had better come downstairs, Your Grace,” Charles said.

His gentle tone had her wide-awake in an instant. It was the voice one used for bad news. She knew immediately that it was about Adrian. She reached to the empty place where she expected him to be sleeping and her heart dropped into her stomach.

Tears flowed down Jenny's face while she held up a wrap. “Oh, my lady, he is badly hurt. Cook found him this morning outside the garden door.”

She jumped out of bed and thrust on the wrap. Not bothering with shoes, she ran down to the kitchen with Charles and Jenny in her wake. The garden door stood open and she plunged into the dawn's soft light.

He still lay on the ground. Someone had fetched a blanket to cover him. Servants stood around helplessly.

“We dared not move him,” Charles said. “He has been badly beaten. I thought him dead at first.”

He did look dead. Pale and lifeless and eerily at peace.

Dread choked her. She sank to her knees and used the edge of her wrap to wipe some thick blood off his brow.

“We found this by the door,” a footman said.

He handed her a folded paper. She opened it and scanned down its threats. Captain Brutus.

She crushed the letter in her fist. Eyes blurring, she bent and kissed Adrian.

She had caused this. Her recklessness and willfulness had hurt him.

She should have given Captain Brutus what he wanted. She should have kept Adrian at a distance, so he would not become a target of that man's twisted plans.