The Improper Wife (27 page)

Hendrick and Gray sobered. Gray handed his battledore to Hendrick and crossed the room to her. “Is something amiss? Sean?”

“Everything is splendid.” She suspected sunbeams must be radiating from her smile. “Sean is at this moment being fully indulged by Miss Miles. I merely wished to talk with you for a moment.”

Gray glanced back to Rodney.

“Go, Uncle. Mr. Hendrick and I will straighten the room.”

Maggie and Gray left the schoolroom and walked a few paces in the hallway before Maggie, feeling childish and giddy, grabbed his hand. “Come to the ballroom with me.”

They hurried down the stairs to the ballroom, looking about them as if engaging in a mischief. Maggie could not even feel her feet touching the ground. She suddenly wished for music, to dance the scandalous waltz up and down the room with him. When they reached the room, she contented herself with throwing her arms around him, laughing.

He held her. “What is this?”

Her arms twined around his neck and she pulled his head down close to her lips so she could whisper in his ear. “I wanted to thank you in private.”

Gray felt her curves mold to his body. He could still smell the river on her. He pressed her against him, wishing for a much more private place than the ballroom. His lips sought hers and she returned his kiss eagerly, as if they’d both been starving and the other was a waiting feast. His hands sought to explore her as he tasted her sweetness. But they were in the ballroom with its many windows and doors, where anyone might enter or walk by.

He made himself pull away, made himself become serious. “Maggie, your thanks are undeserved. It is I who should beg your forgiveness for endangering the children.”

She waved her hand as if sweeping his words away. “You saved them, and the water did not take you under. That is all that signifies.”

It felt as if she were speaking of something more than their episode at the stream. He remembered her earlier words. “Maggie, before you said, ‘This time.’ You said, ‘This time the water did not take them.’ What did you mean?”

She stiffened and withdrew.

“Tell me, Maggie. Who was taken from you?”

She gave him a panicked glance, growing smaller before his eyes, like a flower closing its petals.

“Tell me,” he repeated.

She took a step back and shook her head. She sought his eyes, hers pleading. “Not now. Not when I am so—” She clamped her mouth shut.

Happy,
he finished for her. She’d seemed so happy, so free of care, like a bird suddenly freed from its cage. He felt like a cad for spoiling the moment between them.

He opened his arms to her and she rushed into his embrace. “All right,” he murmured, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “Today is not a day for revealing secrets.”

He’d be patient, but not for long. He planned to discover what she guarded so closely inside her.

At the far end of the room a clock chimed. “Come.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “It is nearly the dinner hour. I must don my dinner clothes or face my father’s sharp tongue.”

He was rewarded by her glowing smile. Offering her his arm, they walked to the ballroom door. Before opening it, Maggie hugged him again.

Desire flared within him. He suspected he could open that door connecting their bedchambers this night and she would come to his bed, in gratitude, if nothing else. But when their bodies finally joined, he wanted nothing between them. No secrets. No barriers.

He would wait.

After another quick kiss Gray left her at the parlor door. Maggie watched him head for the stairway, off to dress. Her giddiness had mellowed, though his request to hear her secrets almost washed it away entirely. How wonderful of him to release her from that demand, but he was a wonderful man, was he not? She blushed, thinking of how she had flung herself at him, but she also felt the secure heat of anticipation warming her flesh. In time he would accept her invitation to make love to her. At the moment, she was content to merely love him.

She opened the parlor door. Olivia sat on the settee, sniffling and looking through her latest issue of
La Belle Assemblée.

When Olivia looked up, tears were glistening in her eyes. “I did not think to see you this evening. I thought I was to be alone.”

Maggie’s brow wrinkled. She did not wish to worry over anyone this moment. She wished only to be joyous. “There is no need for me to be above stairs. But why are you crying, Olivia?”

“I shall compose myself in a moment.” Olivia’s chin trembled and she dabbed at her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief. “I suppose it is merely the fright of this day’s events still plaguing me. Do not credit it.” She gave Maggie a brave look, one Maggie did not believe at all. “Is Sean still sleeping?”

“No.” Maggie crossed the room, keeping a concerned eye on Olivia. She rearranged the vase of flowers on the table. “He woke with his usual energy, yelling for Miss Miles. I suspect she will get more than an earful of his adventure in the water and will not be able to make one bit of sense out of it.”

Olivia attempted a teary smile. “I am glad he feels so well.”

Parker came to the door. “Sir Francis, my lady.”

Olivia sprang to her feet. “Oh, show him in.”

Parker stepped aside. Sir Francis, who had been standing right behind him, rushed up to Olivia. “My dear lady, the news reached all the way to Rosehart. I took the liberty of returning. How is young Palmely?”

Olivia’s face crumbled. Sir Francis took her hand, but Olivia leaned against him, so there was no choice but for him to close his arms around her.

“I have had such a fright, Francis.” His ready comfort made mincemeat of her attempt at bravery. She wept against his lapel. “Rodney almost drowned! Gray and Sean, too!”

“There, there.” Sir Francis patted her back, a look of bittersweet bliss on his face. “I am told they all are unhurt.”

He finally noticed Maggie. “Oh! Bless me, I did not see you there, Mrs. Grayson.” Red-faced, he released Olivia, handing her his handkerchief. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose with it, even though her own was within reach.

He strode over and shook Maggie’s hand. “How do you fare, ma’am? And your little boy?”

She smiled at him. “I assure you, we are unharmed.” Her legs were crisscrossed with scratches from the under-brush and her hands raw from hanging on to the tree, but she did not credit that.

He’s in love, too,
Maggie thought happily, feeling suddenly as if she and Sir Francis were kindred spirits. She wanted Sir Francis to hold Olivia as Gray had held her, wanted him to feel that same sense of floating about the ceiling for the sheer joy of it.

Olivia recovered her manners. “Do sit down, please.” She invited Sir Francis to share the settee with her. He took her hand again and she squeezed his. “Oh, Francis, my nerves are quite shattered.”

He gave her an expression of genuine concern.

A tentative knock sounded at the door. Rodney stood in the doorway, Hendrick behind him.

“May I come in, Mama?” the boy said.

“Rodney!” Olivia sprang to her feet again and rushed over to her son, hugging him against her bosom. Sir Francis stood.

The boy pulled away. “Mr. Hendrick suggested I visit you before my dinner to show you I am all right.”

“Dearest Rodney!” Olivia exclaimed, hugging him again. She turned to Sir Francis. “I have quite decided to forgo the house party next week. I cannot leave my son after that horrid accident!”

Sir Francis displayed the very briefest of disappointed looks before saying, “I quite agree.”

Rodney’s face fell, and as one round cheek was again squeezed flat against his mother, the corners of his mouth turned down. Olivia finally responded to the boy’s efforts to push away, and he met her anxious countenance with a hastily transformed smile.

“Do not worry so, Olivia,” Maggie said. “Rodney is undamaged by his ordeal.”

Rodney gave her a grateful look. Sir Francis looked hopeful.

“Surely you do not think I might leave him?” Olivia whispered, aghast.

Hendrick stepped forward. “If I may presume, ma’am, it would be best at such a time if young Lord Palmely kept to his routine. In fact, we must keep him busier. With more lessons.”

“Do you think so?” Olivia looked from one to the other.

Maggie regarded Rodney’s tutor with amusement. The young man, who had so recently been bounding about the schoolroom after a shuttlecock, now sounded so serious, he could not be contradicted. Rodney seemed barely able to keep from bursting into laughter.

Olivia gave a deep sigh. “Oh, very well.”

“May I be excused now?” asked Rodney, his lips twitching.

His mother smothered him to her breast once again and kissed him on the cheek besides. “Good night, my love.” Rodney rolled his eyes. “Good night, Mother.” He bowed very correctly to Maggie and Sir Francis, and left the room.

Maggie hurried out to the hall after him. “Rodney!”

Mr. Hendrick had his hand on the boy’s shoulder. They turned, both grinning. Maggie crouched to look Rodney directly in the face. “I want to thank you, Rodney.”

Rodney’s smile fled, and he turned his face away. “I let go of Sean’s hand, Aunt Maggie. It was all my fault.”

“Oh, Rodney!” Her voice cracked and tears stung her eyes. She made him look at her again. “You risked your own life. I do not know how you could keep hold on to Sean for so long. I never saw anything so brave.”

He gave her an almost prideful look. “That is what Uncle Gray said as well.”

“So, again, I thank you.” Before her tears embarrassed the boy, she stood and managed a smile. “I should have thanked you before, when I interrupted your . . . lessons.”

Rodney grinned.

“We must go to dinner,” Mr. Hendrick broke in.

Maggie nodded. “Of course.”

With a wink, Hendrick allowed Rodney to lead the way. They passed Gray, who gave Rodney’s shoulder a squeeze as he went by. For Maggie, Gray gave a smile that lit up her heart. He offered his arm and she took it gladly.

“You changed quickly.”

He leaned down to her ear, his breath warm against her cheek. “I have an efficient valet.”

They entered the parlor together, where Sir Francis and Olivia were busy conversing on the settee.

“So it is settled?” Sir Francis said. “You will attend the Camerville party?”

Olivia nodded enthusiastically. “As I told you this morning during our lovely ride, Maggie and Gray will accompany me, so there shall be no impediment at all.” Olivia noticed their entrance. “Is that not correct, Gray?”

Sir Francis rose to his feet and accepted Gray’s handshake.

With a glance to Maggie, Gray turned to Olivia. “It is not yet decided. Maggie and I need to discuss it.”

“Maggie, please say yes,” Olivia cried. “I do not know when I shall have another invitation such as this.”

Maggie was familiar enough with the ways of the world to know if Olivia declined this invitation after hiding herself away for so long, there very likely would be no others forthcoming.

“Leave it for the moment, Olivia,” Gray said sharply. “Maggie has had a difficult day.”

Maggie’s heart swelled. He was indeed wonderful.

Olivia’s crestfallen face mirrored Sir Francis’s.

Maggie regarded them all, love making her feel magnanimous. “I will attend the party, Gray.”

“Oh!” Olivia rushed over to give her a big hug. “Thank you. Thank you. We shall have a splendid time, you shall see!”

Sir Francis cleared his throat. “Now I must take my leave. I merely came to express my concerns about your shocking events this day.”

“No,” Olivia protested. “You must stay for dinner. Lord Summerton will enjoy your company.”

He glanced at Maggie and Gray, and back to Olivia. “Intrude at such a time? And I am not dressed for it.”

Olivia walked over and took his arm, leading him away from the door. “You know we will not stand on ceremony for you.”

“Very well.” Sir Francis grinned with pleasure. “I most heartily accept.”

Parker opened the door again, and Lord Summerton entered, shuffling with his cane. “That will be all, Parker.” Lord Summerton waved the butler away. “Go find what is keeping dinner.”

The earl often said these same words at this exact time. He leaned on his cane and looked about.

“Hmmph, it is you.” He’d spied Gray.

Maggie rushed up to him. She would not allow the earl to abuse his son this evening. “Come and sit, my lord. Would you care for some port? The gentlemen were about to pour some.”

“Well, I usually have a glass before dinner, you know that, Maggie girl.” She escorted him to his favorite chair.

Gray had apparently taken her cue, because he’d removed the port and glasses from the cabinet and was in the process of pouring.

He carried the first glass to his father. “Here you are, Father.”

His father was about to say thank you, but caught himself and scowled instead.

Gray gave Maggie an amused look that turned her all warm and glowing inside.

Gray remained near his father. “We have had some excitement here today. Has anyone told you of it?”

“Hmmph, no one keeps secrets from me, boy.” His father glared at him.

Maggie bit her lip and silently pleaded.
Do not tell him. I will do it.
None of the servants would dare inform the earl of such an upsetting event. It would be even worse for his son to do it.

Gray kept his tone mild. “Then you have heard that Sean and Rodney fell in the stream, and that they were shaken, but unhurt.”

She blinked in surprise.
Well done,
she thought, full of admiration.
You do not force him to admit to something he does not know. You preserved his pride.

The old man’s brows knit, but he did not respond. Instead he busied himself with his glass.

Oh, dear,
thought Maggie. Perhaps not so well done. Lord Summerton looked as if he were becoming agitated. She cast about in her mind for some way to change the subject.

“You always warned of the dangers of the stream, Father,” Gray continued very smoothly.

“Indeed I did.” His father brightened. “I’ve seen men drown in that water. I recall one storm . . .”