Virginia Henley (37 page)

Each and every night she relived the intimacy they had shared in Venice. She could still taste his kisses, still feel his demanding mouth molding her lips, parting them so his tongue could explore the intimate warmth of her mouth. She shuddered at the memory of his rough tongue sliding deeply inside her mouth, and deeply inside other intimate places. The Leopard’s tongue.

She jumped at the sound of the low knock upon the chamber door. Mr. Burke came in and said quietly, “We
have talked. I told him what happened the night Anthony was lost. He would like to speak with you again in the garden. I don’t think he will be fierce with you, Antonia.”

“Thank you, Mr. Burke. I could never manage without you.”

Tony dried her eyes after he left and toyed with the idea of keeping Savage waiting. Better not. Mr. Burke said he wouldn’t be fierce, so he must have vented his temper. If she left him to cool his heels it could easily flare up again.

When she entered the garden her steps slowed as she saw his face was still grim. The fragrance of the lovely flower borders stole to her. It was such a poignantly beautiful spot, made for lovers. Her eyes again became liquid with unshed tears for what might have been.

“I have spoken with Mr. Burke and realize that you genuinely believe Bernard Lamb was responsible for your twin’s accident.”

When Antonia weighed his words, an instant spark was ignited.

“You, however, don’t believe any such thing!”

“I shall investigate the matter. I hope you realize there would be no need to fear your cousin if you had not passed yourself off as your twin brother.” Savage’s temper had ignited again. It was plain they could not even converse without sparks flying.

“I had no choice. If you think I’d hand everything Anthony owned over to his murderer, you must have the brains of a pissant!”

“Be silent! I will not tolerate your insolence.” The scar on his mouth made him look sinister and cruel. His glacial stare was merciless.

She heard his words but heeded them not. She was in a recklessly dangerous mood. “Because I’m a woman, you even deny me freedom of speech. I wish to God I were a man!”

“You lying little vixen, you wish nothing of the sort. You are all woman down to your very bones. You revel in being
a female with all their devious weapons, but like all women you are greedy and want all the privileges of a man as well. It was just a bloody game to you, swaggering around in breeches, saying and doing every conceivably outrageous thing that came into that she-devil’s brain of yours. Making a total fool of every man of your acquaintance.”

Antonia tossed her head, making her raven hair sweep about her shoulders in wild disarray. Her angry eyes glittered like emeralds. “I don’t need to make fools of men when they manage all by themselves!”

Savage was no longer angry. He was simply taunting her for the sheer pleasure of watching her. When she was angry she was the most breath-stopping creature he’d ever seen.

“You have no scruples whatsoever,” he taunted.

“I
have no scruples? I have no scruples! You whoreson!” She flew at him with clenched fists and pounded them against his broad chest.
“You
are the one without scruples. You’d do anything for money because money is power. You flaunt the law. You smuggle anything and everything that’s illegal. You bed every influential hostess in London in your afternoons, and spend every night in some brothel. And speaking of
scruples,
you’ve just
bought
yourself a title, Lord Bloody Blackwater!”

Savage was blazing angry again. She had an incendiary effect upon him. He took hold of her hands and forced them to her sides. He held them in a vice grip while addressing her in a dangerous, silky tone.

“This ridiculous farce of yours was totally unnecessary, as well you know, Lady Bitch. All you needed to say to keep your precious Hall when your brother disappeared was that he had gone to Ceylon to console your mother.”

Antonia stared at him in stunned silence. How simple. Why in the name of heaven had she not thought of it?

“I shall remove my unscrupulous presence. London’s hostesses are awaiting the return of my insatiable manhood.”
The silver scar twisting down through his lip mocked her. He waved an all-powerful hand. “Please feel free to enjoy the hospitality of Blackwater Castle as long as the whim suits you. I have a spot of French smuggling to attend to,” he told her quite truthfully.

Adam Savage rode into Dungarvan at dusk and paid his passage on a ship bound for England. Though he tried to put Lady Antonia Lamb and her antics from his mind, he could not. He relived every thought, every word, from the moment he saw her asleep in the hammock and the full realisation came to him that Tony Lamb was not an effeminate youth but a real female.

The discovery had amazed him, and yet at the back of his mind something nagged at him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Whenever he thought he was close to what was bothering him, it eluded him.

While crossing the Irish Sea his mind went back over all the time he’d spent with Tony Lamb determined to make a man of him. He groaned over the time he’d taken her home dead drunk and handed her over to Mr. Burke. He recalled vividly handing her a shovel in the stables at Edenwood and watching while she shoveled shit. Suddenly he burst out laughing. She was a plucky female, for by God, she had mucked out at least half a dozen stalls.

He flushed as he recalled telling Tony to climb into his bunk, then deliberately allowing the French authority to believe they were homosexual lovers. Tony’s anger after the man left told him clearly she understood the disgusting
implication, but she’d stayed and nursed him through a bad night.

Christ, no wonder she had such good taste in furnishing a home, and no wonder she had chosen to import-export ladies gowns and wigs—she had intimate knowledge of such things. How in the name of Mary and Joseph had he never realized Tony was female? A very beautiful and desirable female at that.

He instantly put a stop to such dangerous thoughts. He was her guardian, she was his ward, and the most maddening, exasperating creature he had ever encountered. What was it about her that seemed, to stir some other recollection? His senses stirred. What was it, what was it he almost remembered?

He would get to the bottom of the bloody Bernard Lamb thing. If he was a danger to Antonia, he’d soon rid her of him. Savage took a turn about the deck, avoiding both crew and passengers, then propped himself at the prow where the wind could blow the cobwebs from his brain. He was certainly wrong about one thing. Men would clamor to offer her marriage. A beautiful woman with her fire and passion was a rarity. Her mother, Eve, paled into insignificance beside her. Those dreamy green eyes that turned to flashing emeralds in seconds, those long, slim legs. Something clicked in his brain. Green eyes, long legs … no, it couldn’t be. Ann! Ann Lambeth! No trace could be found because Ann Lambeth was Antonia Lamb!

The thought was repugnant to him. He was suddenly blazing angry. Far more angry than he’d been at discovering Tony was a woman. The devious little bitch! It offended every sensibility! Christ Almighty, he was engaged to her mother! He was Antonia’s guardian. She was probably going to be his daughter. It was tantamount to incest! A guardian sleeping with his ward breeched every code of honor. It was morally contemptible. His fury knew no
bounds. He was in a blind rage. He strode up to the captain at the ship’s wheel.

“I want to return to Ireland immediately!”

The captain stared at him as if he were dealing with a lunatic. “I cannot turn the ship around in the middle of the Irish Sea!”

“Why not?” Savage demanded.

“This is a scheduled run. It’s the middle of the night. There are other passengers. They would demand their money back.”

“I’ll pay you whatever it takes to make it worth your while to take this ship back to Dungarvan Harbor.”

The captain looked at him with speculation and they reached a satisfactory agreement within minutes.

Dawn was reaching pink fingers up the sky when Savage again rode the twelve miles to Blackwater. “Red sky at morning, sailor’s warning,” he murmured, knowing full well of the coming storm-burst.

Blackwater had just begun to stir. The cocks crowed, the cattle lowed. The dew upon the lush green grass sparkled like diamonds and every spiderweb was hung with jewels.

The moment he stepped into the baronial hall the delicious smell of ham and freshly baked bread stole to him. He climbed a staircase, entered a large double bedchamber, and set his bag down. He was drawn to the window, where he quickly drew in his breath as he realized he had chosen the wing that projected out over the cliff. The chamber suited him completely. The oak four-poster was massive, the fireplace hewn from local boulders. The chamber was suspended between earth and sky and the view from the windows was definitely intimidating.

Savage caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and realized that at the moment his unshaven, unkempt appearance was more than intimidating.
Good,
he thought,
she will not dare defy me today. She has no idea I’m back. It will be a surprise attack,
he thought with grim satisfaction.
In the end his pride would not allow his golden goddess to see him looking so disheveled. Savage shaved and changed his clothes before he went downstairs.

In spite of himself Mr. Burke’s eyebrows rose when he saw Adam Savage. He had heard Antonia weeping last night after Savage had quit the castle in anger, and thought to fix her a breakfast tray to comfort her this morning. Now he realized that was out. Obviously Savage was waiting for her to come downstairs. He had returned for round two.

Savage had banked the fires of his temper, but the embers glowed fiercely just beneath the surface and threatened to flame up with each passing tick of the clock.

When Antonia came downstairs she was wearing a cream muslin gown with cream-colored roses entwined in her silky black curls. She looked the picture of innocence, vulnerability, and sweetness. His heart skipped a beat. Then his temper overruled his heart. He advanced upon her in a threatening manner. “I must be the most obtuse man on earth not to have recognized your cat’s eyes.”

“Self-awareness is a priceless gift,” she said softly. Her words mocked him, though the tone of her voice did not.

“Have you any notion of the magnitude of your indiscretion?” His voice cut the air like a whip. “I am your guardian. Do you not realize any intimacy between us is unconscionable?”

“Unconscionable,” she agreed softly.

His temper escalated to fury. “What you did was scandalous!” he thundered.

“Scandalous,” she agreed softly.

“I am in charge of your morals,” he roared. “What you lured me to do was forbidden!”

“Forbidden,” she whispered longingly.

“Stop it. You are behaving like a promiscuous courtesan!”

“The pictures you showed me in the
Kama Sutra
taught me so much.” She smiled seductively.

“Sweet Christ, have you no shame?”

“You taught me that when a man and woman share a bed, there is no room for shame.”

“You are seventeen years old!” he shouted.

“That made no difference in Venice.”

“Of course it made a bloody difference. Why the hell do you think I didn’t ravish you? Take your virginity?”

“You said it was a gift for my lover,” she whispered seductively.

He seized her by the shoulders and tried to shake some sense into her. His hands were ungentle, his face dark with rage. He shook her roughly, enough to make her teeth rattle, but when he was done, she moved against him sensually and looked deeply into his silver-blue eyes. “There is unfinished business between us, Adam.”

Now, of course, he did not just feel anger, he felt lust, a potent combination. He flung away. She was actually trying to seduce him when he was almost to the point where he needed to throw her to the floor, spread her thighs on the silken carpet, and impale her until he drowned in her.

Adam Savage rode deep into Blackwater Valley in an effort to rid himself of anger and lust. His anger was soon melted away by the beauty of his surroundings. Wherever his glance fell he saw an almost alarming beauty in the high turreted castle, the black-green water, the verdant valley. It was almost as if this niche of Ireland that he could now claim as his was under a magic spell. Or was he under the spell, he asked himself fancifully, and had Blackwater claimed him? He had breathed in its ancient beauty and it had found its way into his heart.

The image of Antonia was with him strongly. Though the anger had melted, the lust remained. It seemed only fitting that he had found his golden goddess here, for she was an enchantress. She had cast her spell upon him in Venice. In that eternal city they had found romance. Her vibrant image was before him each time he closed his
eyes. With every breath he took he could smell her fragrance of wild violets. Her body had felt like hot silk beneath his calloused fingers. Just remembering her taste and her lingering scent aroused his body. Yet Adam Savage knew it wasn’t the green eyes or the lovely long legs that held him in thrall. It was her rich, generous response to him. She found him extremely attractive and she made no secret of it. His scars did not repel her, they excited her.

However, he forced himself to face facts. It was against society’s mores to make a young ward your mistress. He was an ambitious man. He needed the approbation of his peers and all those who wielded influence if he was to have a voice in ruling England. He indulged in enough clandestine activities that must be kept absolutely secret, he could not afford a liaison that would condemn him in the eyes of the ton.

In any case Antonia deserved better. She needed a splendid marriage. One that would keep her secure from the Bernard Lambs of this world. She had a passion for stately homes, magnificent furnishings, and informal gardens. She needed a husband wealthy enough to indulge her passions. There would be no more confrontations between them. They would be friends. When she had posed as Anthony, there was nothing that they couldn’t discuss. And so it would be now. They would talk it all out and make plans for her future. As he rode back to the castle, the Marquess of Blackwater felt almost noble.

Antonia was nowhere about the whole afternoon and it gave Savage the opportunity to explore his castle, gardens, and thirty-five hundred acres. He spoke with all his tenants, learned their names, found out who planted crops and who kept livestock. When he asked them how much rent they paid to the Crown, he frowned with annoyance, knowing it was a hardship to scrape together so much. He cut the rents in half and gave up a prayer of thanks that he was wealthy enough to make such a goodwill gesture. He
learned that nearby Tallow was a market town that held horse fairs, and decided to pay it a visit one day before he left.

Mr. Burke told him dinner would be at eight, but that the salmon, caught and smoked locally, would be worth the wait. Adam Savage shaved carefully and changed from riding breeches and boots. He donned a fresh linen shirt, but didn’t bother with a stock or neckcloth.

When he entered the banqueting hall the firelight at the far end flickered up the walls as it must have done centuries ago. He saw immediately that Antonia had arrived before him, seated at the candle-lit oak refectory table. As he took a seat across from her, his eyes widened at what she was wearing. It was the golden crown-shaped bodice she had worn in Venice. His pulse quickened, his balls tightened, so he quickly clamped down his desire with an iron will.

When he had gained control of himself he smiled wryly. He knew exactly what game she was up to. She was trying to seduce him. In Venice she had succeeded, but tonight would be decidedly different.

He spoke first, as was his right. His voice was deep and firm. “Antonia, tonight will mark a new beginning for us. We know each other too well to be formal, so I hope we can deal comfortably together.”

There was no way Antonia was going to provoke an argument between them tonight. She gave him her rapt attention without saying a word, hoping that the romantic atmosphere and the alluring bodice promising its glimpse of breasts would entice him to dalliance.

“I beg your pardon for all the demands I placed upon you when I thought you young Lord Anthony Lamb.”

He waited politely for a reply, but she simply dipped her spoon into her soup and gazed at him with those dreamy green eyes.

She wanted to say that she accepted his apology, but she
knew the words would be incendiary. Adam Savage was doubtless a man who seldom apologized.

He finished his soup. “From this moment on we must fiercely guard your reputation. I have already explained to Mrs. Kenny that you traveled here in male attire to dispel gossip, because you had no female chaperone. She was bursting with curiosity at your unconventional antics.”

Mr. Burke brought in the smoked salmon with its parsley and dill sauce. He also served tiny new potatoes, asparagus tips, baby carrots, and parsnips. A salad of scallions, fresh mushrooms, watercress, and fiddlehead ferns completed the course. Plumb partridges and rabbit pie were being taken from the oven as they tasted their salmon.

It was Antonia’s turn to smile to herself. First she’d been a male, then a female. She wondered what Mrs. Kenny would make of her tonight.

As Adam watched the play of light and shadow over Tony’s lovely face and bared shoulders he wondered what her secret thoughts were. She looked as if she knew something he did not. He made the mistake of looking at her mouth, and its effect upon him was immediate and pronounced. Her mouth was made for making love.