The Secret Christmas Ciphers (4 page)

Abigail would have preferred having a chamber with another room adjoining it as she and Derek had occupied back at Melton Castle, but the town house was much smaller, of course. Besides, as she reminded herself, she and Derek were not likely to be staying at the town house at the same time. He’d plainly said that he’d let her know when he would be in London so she could make arrangements to be elsewhere. Thus, she wasted no time worrying about the lack of an adjoining chamber. There was too much excitement in London to leave room for worries.

Abigail had visited London on a couple of occasions with her father, but this time was different. Now, instead of arriving as the unmarried daughter of an obscure baron, she was the wife of a viscount who was heir to an ancient earldom. In addition, the Earl of Melton was available to serve as an escort, and Cousin Parsetta proved to be an excellent companion. As it turned out, she had been companion to so many of her relatives that she was well known and liked by many people in society.

To Abigail’s surprise, she and Catherine almost immediately received invitations to a few events, with more invitations arriving as soon as people realized they had come up to town for the Little Season. Fortunately for Abigail’s peace of mind, Catherine’s behavior was quite unexceptional. Either she was a bit overwhelmed by the sheer drama of being in London, or she was determined to catch a husband and knew her reputation must appear pristine for that ambition to be realized.

By the time a few days had passed, Abigail was settling into a routine of shopping for clothes and accessories in the mornings, visiting new acquaintances in the afternoons and usually going out in the evening for a small party or musicale. She had almost managed to push thoughts of Derek to the back of her mind when the first letter from him arrived.

My dear wife,

The contents of this letter are confidential. Please do not share this information with anyone. I plan on arriving in London five days from the date of this letter and spending at least two nights in the town house. Per our earlier agreement, I anticipate your finding an excuse to be away.

D

P.S. Burn this missive as soon as you’ve read it.

Frowning, Abigail glanced at the date on the letter and realized she would have to leave the following morning in order to avoid being in London when Derek arrived.

“Blast it all,” she muttered. Now she’d have to think of an excuse to leave London, and she really didn’t want to miss the activities she’d planned for the next couple of days. Unfortunately, she’d told Derek she would leave, and she intended to keep her word. Besides, she was almost afraid to share a bedchamber with him. Considering how strongly she’d reacted to that kiss the day he left to join his regiment, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist if he wanted to initiate marital relations.

Of course she knew that in order to give Derek an heir, they would have to be intimate someday, but she was not ready for that sort of relationship yet. Thus, she would have to leave town.

Unfortunately, pretense didn’t come easily to her. The best excuse she could concoct for leaving town was that she needed to return to the country to go through her wardrobe and see if she had some warmer gowns. She was fairly certain that neither her maid nor Catherine believed her.

Mary especially acted suspicious. After all, the maid knew Abigail’s wardrobe better than she did herself. In fact, Mary flat out said that the trip was unnecessary, but after Abigail spoke sharply to her, she settled down and confined her reaction to sulking during most of the journey back to the country.

When they returned three days later, all of Abigail’s acquaintances rushed to sympathize with her because she had missed an opportunity to see her husband. She was told repeatedly that he had arrived soon after she left for the country and had been forced to travel to rejoin his regiment the day before she returned.

She’d sighed and expressed her disappointment while biting her tongue to keep from saying something cross.

A mere two weeks later, the same situation arose again. Again, Abigail was forced to come up with an excuse to leave town, and again she returned only to be informed that she’d just missed a reunion with her husband. People, she feared, would eventually become suspicious.

By then, the Little Season was in full swing. Abigail, Catherine, and Parsetta rarely had an evening at home. On the second Tuesday after Abigail’s last trip to the country, the ladies had been invited to the Duchess of Somerton’s ball. Lord Melton had accompanied them and had even danced a couple of times, once with Catherine and once with Abigail, before excusing himself to go to the card room.

Abigail had settled down in one of the chairs reserved for ladies who were not dancing and turned to make a remark to Parsetta when a buzz of excitement swept the room. She paused and turned to look toward the door.

Her husband had just stepped into the room.

He looked especially handsome this evening, dressed as he was in formal evening clothes. His dark brown hair was a bit longer than Abigail remembered, just brushing the collar of his coat. He bowed over his hostess’s hand and when he straightened, the crowd parted to create an open line of sight between him and Abigail.

Fury sent her blood surging through her veins. How dare he? Twice now she’d made excuses to leave town so they wouldn’t have to meet, and tonight he appeared unannounced at an event where everyone who mattered would be watching their reunion.

The Countess of Marpaine, one of the most vocal gossips in the
ton
, rushed to her side. “Oh my dear Lady Westdale,” she said breathlessly. “At long last you and your brave husband are in the city at the same time. Were you expecting him?”

Abigail jumped to her feet. She had no intention of responding to the countess’s question. “Pray excuse me, my lady, but I must greet my dear husband. I’m so thrilled to see him, I shan’t even chastise him for being late.”

She immediately set off across the ballroom, trying to catch Derek’s eye, but he had his back to her, conversing with the duchess. Somehow she had to communicate to him that the
ton
expected to see a tender reunion between them, but she wasn’t sure he’d see her in time.

Fortunately, the duchess noticed her approach. She smiled broadly, said something to Derek, and then nodded toward Abigail.

By this time, Abigail was a mere four feet away from him. When he turned toward her, she dashed forward, threw her arms around him and pressed her mouth close to his ear. “Kiss me, or so help me god, I’ll bite your ear off,” she murmured.

His expression of surprise immediately morphed into a look of feigned joy. “Ah, my dear wife, how I’ve missed your gentle words of enticement,” he whispered. “But I’d be a poor excuse for a husband did I not respond to your sweet entreaty.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close, and lowered his head to find her lips. She tilted her head back, looked into his eyes, and felt every cell in her body tingle. She’d like to kill him, but unfortunately he was the only man in the world who seemed to have such an exhilarating effect on her.

And despite what Catherine and the twins had always told her, she wasn’t convinced that just any man could bring her pleasure.

Or set her on fire, which Derek’s kiss was doing right this second.

She tightened her embrace and began to fantasize about doing all those erotic things the sisters had described to her. She moaned deep in her throat and parted her lips, hoping he would thrust his tongue into her mouth.

He broke the kiss. “My dear wife,” he murmured. “Let’s save our seductions for the bedroom, if you please. Otherwise, the duchess will have both of us ejected from her ballroom.”

So abruptly reminded of their surroundings, Abigail felt heat rising from her breast to her neck and into her face. Dear heavens! What had she been thinking? She ducked her head, too embarrassed to look at their hostess, but a second later she realized the duchess was chuckling. Then she reached for Abigail’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Don’t be embarrassed, my dear,” the duchess said softly. “I wish more husbands and wives displayed their affection for one another. And believe me, I’ll completely understand if you both wish to leave early this evening.”

Derek inclined his head and smiled. “Thank you, Your Grace, but with your permission, we’ll stay so I can finally claim my lovely wife’s hand for a dance. As you probably know, we’ve had very little time together in the last few weeks.”

The duchess’s answering smile was warm and a knowing twinkle lit her eyes. “Of course you must have your dance, my dear boy. I’ll send instructions to the orchestra to play a waltz very soon.”

She turned to Abigail. “You do waltz, I hope, my dear.”

“I do.” Abigail’s spirits soared. The thought of being held in Derek’s arms and whirled around the ballroom was extremely appealing, because truth be told, his kiss had stirred emotions deep within her, emotions she had no trouble identifying, thanks to the various lectures she’d endured from his stepsisters.

But what could she do about those emotions? Or—to give them their true name—desires. She wasn’t sure there was any hope for convivial relations between Derek and her, let alone convivial conjugal relations.

“Abigail?”

She started, then turned her attention to Derek, who stared down at her with a puzzled expression on his face. The duchess was greeting a newcomer, and clearly it was time for Abigail and Derek to move on.

He held out his arm and she placed her hand on it.

“We’ll need to greet a few people,” he told her softly as he led her along the edge of the dance floor. “I apologize for my unexpected arrival this evening. I didn’t know I was to visit the city until five minutes before I was scheduled to leave.”

Abigail lifted her brows. “In that case, I would have expected you to arrive in your regimentals.”

“I could hardly attend the duchess’s ball still in my dirt from the trip. I stopped by the town house and changed. Fortunately, I’d left some evening clothes in my former bedchamber there.”

“Which chamber is yours?”

“It used to be the fifth chamber on the left near the end of the hall. Now it’s the same as yours.”

Abigail’s pulse quickened. She could object, she supposed, and insist that Derek find some excuse to sleep elsewhere that evening. He could claim he’d been recalled to duty and slip away before she retired.

But she hated to turn him out of his own house. He could sleep in another room but then the servants would gossip. So, he would just have to sleep on the floor of the bedchamber. Surely he could not object to that. After all, he was a soldier now. He must be used to uncomfortable sleeping arrangements.

And she certainly wasn’t ready to become his wife except in name only. She assumed that someday she’d manage to forgive him or at least agree to marital relations in order to ensure an heir to his title. When that day came, she’d have to let him know that she was ready. She might even have to seduce him.

But would she have the courage to try? And would she know how? She wished she’d paid more attention to what the sisters had told her in the past instead of trying to silence them and make her escape.

If she recalled correctly, Catherine had once told her that the first step should be simply to say, “Would you like to kiss me?” Considering the level of passion he’d exhibited in their most recent kisses, she had no doubt that he’d agree.

But what should she do after he kissed her?

Oh yes. Sophia had said the next step was to ask the gentleman if he would like to—

“Abigail? Are you all right?”

Suddenly aware that Derek had paused and was staring down at her with a frown of concern, Abigail gulped, then glanced around. People standing in nearby groups watched them with smiles of fond indulgence.

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“Your face is flushed and your breathing sounds a bit labored.”

Abigail felt her face flushing even more. Good heavens. She couldn’t believe she’d become aroused in the middle of a ballroom. She cleared her throat. “It’s just a little warm in here. That’s all.”

“In that case, allow me to fetch you a glass of lemonade.”

“Oh yes,” she said on a sigh of relief. “But first, why don’t we join Catherine and Cousin Parsetta. They’re just over there, near the door leading to the balcony.”

“Do you need to step onto the balcony and cool off a few minutes?”

“No, thank you,” she said quickly. “If you’ll just bring me something to drink, I’ll be fine.”

Derek frowned for a minute but finally nodded. “Very well. I see Catherine motioning for you. I’ll leave you with her while I fetch your lemonade.”

Abigail turned and hurried over to join Catherine, who appeared especially angelic tonight. Dressed in a modest, very pale aqua muslin with her hair brushing her shoulders in golden ringlets, she could easily have posed for a painting of the Madonna.

“Did you notice my last dance partner?” Catherine demanded as soon as Abigail reached her side.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t. I was busy dealing with the unexpected arrival of Derek.”

“He must have the biggest male member in the country,” Catherine whispered.

Abigail’s eyes widened. “Derek?”

“No, you goose. The Earl of Corrum, my last dance partner. Have you seen the length of his nose? And they say that’s a certain indication of the size of a man’s member.”

“Catherine, have you no sense at all? If anyone were to overhear you talking about this subject, you would be ruined for certain.”

Catherine heaved a sigh. “Don’t be a widgeon. I’m teasing you just to watch your blush deepen. The truth is that I’m much more interested in the attributes of some of the younger men I’ve met. I must admit, however, that it’s good for my image to have the Earl of Corrum pursuing me although I fail to understand why he’s doing so. He surely knows better than to try to seduce a lady.”

She raised her brows and hesitated as though waiting for Abigail to dispute her claim to be a lady, but Abigail knew to hold her tongue. Finally Catherine smiled and continued. “But let’s not waste time talking about the big-nosed earl. I see your less-than-romantic husband trying to make his way through the crowd with a glass of lemonade. What is he doing in London and why didn’t you dash back to the country to avoid him as you usually do?”