Love Is Blind (14 page)

'Yes," Adrian breathed, and the bed sank under his

weight. Clarissa immediately shifted to make more room, and he followed, clearing his throat before saying, "Sorry. I do not think I am properly awake yet."

"Awake?" Clarissa asked with surprise. He had to be awake. How could he have climbed into her room otherwise?

"I fell asleep in the tree outside your window while waiting for the party to end and for you to retire," he admitted.

Clarissa frowned with concern. 'You could have fallen and hurt yourself!"

'Yes, well... I did not intend to sleep when I climbed the tree," Adrian pointed out.

"No, of course not," she realized.

He cleared his throat again, clearly overcome with self-consciousness, and said, "This is most improper."

Clarissa pointed out with amusement, "Most of what we do appears to be."

'Yes, I suppose." She could hear the smile in Adrian's voice. But when he next spoke, his words were more solemn. "I wanted to ask you about the message you said you got from me."

"Yes, of course. I am sorry we did not get the chance to talk. What was so important?"

"I did not send that message."

'You did not?" Clarissa asked blankly.

"No."

"But it was signed A.M.' "

"But I did not send it," he said firmly. "And for future reference, I never sign anything A.M.'"

Clarissa considered briefly. She wanted to ask if he was sure, but she supposed that was a stupid question. He'd certainly know if he'd sent a letter or not. Finally, she asked, "Who did? And why?"

"That is the question that concerns me, Clarissa." She could hear the frown in his voice, and he admitted, "It makes me wonder whether your accident was an accident. It also makes me wonder about these other accidents you have been having. Tell me about your fall down the stairs."

Clarissa felt her eyebrows rise. "It was nothing odd. I was supposed to always have a servant walk with me, but I was too impatient that morning," she said, admitting unhappily, "I also felt foolish that I needed an escort, so I went down on my own. I was fine until I got to the staircase, but then I tripped over something at the top and tumbled down."

"What was it you tripped over?"

Clarissa blinked in surprise. "I do not know. I twisted my ankle and was a bit banged up. Joan and
Ffoulkes
made a fuss over me. I did not think to have them look to see what I tripped over."

"Hmm. And no one mentioned there being something on the stairs?"

Clarissa shook her head, then realized he couldn't see and said, "No."

Adrian pondered, then asked, "What about the time you were almost run down by a carriage?"

"Oh." Clarissa sighed at the memory and then quickly explained. "I was bored to tears and heard Cook mention she was going to market. I wanted to pick out some fruit, so I went with her. She took my arm to walk me there. We stopped at a vegetable stall at the edge, and she let go of me to look at the vegetables. She let go of me for only a moment, but that was all it took. A heartbeat later someone bumped into me. I was not expecting it, and was startled off balance. My foot twisted on the cobblestones and I fell

forward onto my knees; then I heard a great commotion and glanced up to see a huge blur kicking out above me. A carriage had been coming. But the driver managed to stop just short of me, and the horses were apparently rearing." Her expression solemn, Clarissa added, "I was really very lucky. I have always been very lucky, I guess."

"Who was it that bumped into you?" Adrian asked.

She shook her head. "I do not know. Cook came rushing over and asked if I was all right, then started yelling at the driver because he was yelling at me, and then she hustled me home for Joan to change me and clean up my scrapes and went back to the market alone." She scowled. "I never did get my fruit."

"Hmm." He was silent for a moment. "Clarissa, earlier tonight, did you actually
see
this letter I supposedly sent you?"

She was sure he'd leaned closer on the bed. Clarissa could feel his breath on her ear, and it made her shiver. Clearing her throat, she answered, "Of course I saw it. The boy insisted he was to give it only to me. Joan had to fetch me from the ball to accept it."

"Did you read it?" he asked.

"No," Clarissa admitted, beginning to frown. "I could not read it properly. Joan had to read it for me."

Adrian considered that, then asked, "Do you still have the letter this boy supposedly brought?"

"Supposedly?" Clarissa asked. 'You keep saying that, but I
saw
the letter, Adrian. There
is
one."

'Yes, but you could not read it."

"Joan did." When he remained silent, Clarissa frowned. "What on earth are you thinking?"

"I do not know," Adrian admitted on a sigh. "
Ffoulkes
and Joan were nearby and the first to reach

you when you fell, and Cook was with you at the market. Yet no one seems to have bothered to find out what you tripped over, or who pushed you into the street."

"Bumped me. I was not pushed," Clarissa corrected. "And both times everyone was too busy ensuring I was all right to look into these things. I did not think of it either. And goodness, I am sure the staff hates me for all the accidents I have caused and all the times I unintentionally stepped on their toes or hit them with something without meaning to, but surely you are not suggesting my father's entire household wants me dead?"

"No. No, of course not," Adrian said quickly, then sighed. "Can you please just light a candle and find the letter?"

Clarissa hesitated, a little snort of laughter slipping out. "As if light would help me."

Shaking her head, she slid out of bed and began to make her way to her dressing table. Clarissa kept her hands out before her as she moved carefully forward, but still she found the table by stubbing her toe on one leg of it. Wincing, she bit back a curse not dissimilar to those Adrian had supplied earlier, and lowered her hands to find the tabletop. She had a vague recollection of Joan setting the letter on her dressing table once they'd reached the room. It must be here some—
Ah,
Clarissa thought as her hand brushed against paper. Picking it up, she turned to head back to the bed.

Light suddenly erupted in the room. Clarissa froze halfway to the bed and blinked in it. Apparently Adrian had found the candle at her bedside. While she stood blinking, he turned from the table and moved to her. Clarissa held out the letter and waited as he read it.

"Well?" she asked finally, when enough time had passed for him to have read it.

"It says what you said it did, but 'tis not my handwriting," he explained. Then he muttered, "Of course it isn't; I knew I had not sent it."

"But then who did?" she asked. "The only people who know about us are your cousin and my maid . . . and
Prudhomme
."

"
Prudhomme
does
know? You are sure of this?" Adrian asked sharply.

"Aye. He was walking in the gardens with Lydia the night you presented me with that picnic. They saw us kissing at the salon doors," Clarissa admitted. "So Lydia knows as well."

"I suspected
Prudhomme
knew," Adrian murmured, lifting his head. Clarissa knew he was looking at her. She was suddenly terribly aware that she stood in nothing but her nightgown. Clarissa could almost feel his gaze moving over her, and a little shiver trailed through her in reaction. She had the sudden urge to cross her arms over her chest, but resisted.

The silence drew out a long time; then Adrian spoke, his voice husky as he announced, "Clarissa, I am going to kiss you."

She breathed in, excitement rushing through her at the announcement, only to have it drain away when he recanted. "No. I am not."

"You are not?" Clarissa asked. Disappointment took the place of the anticipation coursing through her.

"This is all terribly improper." Adrian sounded distressed.

"But I should like you to kiss me," Clarissa admitted with a frown.

"Oh, please do not say that." Adrian almost groaned. "I am trying to be a gentleman."

"Do gentlemen not kiss ladies?" she asked with a small smile, then reminded him, 'You kissed me at
Prudhomme's
ball."

'Yes, but that was different," he assured her.

"Why?"

'You were not half-dressed and in your bedchamber."

"I could dress."

A soft laugh slipped from his lips, and Adrian suddenly leaned forward. Clarissa went still, her heart briefly stopping; then she melted into him as his lips moved across hers.

It seemed the heat and excitement of her response had not been because of the small bit of wine she'd had the night of
Prudhomme's
ball. She felt that same wild excitement now, and hadn't had a drop to drink.

Clarissa's body seemed to know just what to do, and molded itself to Adrian. Her hands crept around his neck to hold him close, and then his tongue intruded as it had before. This time she wasn't surprised by its sudden appearance. Instead of stiffening, she went weak in the knees, and would have slid to the ground if not for his arms tight around her.

Clarissa sighed into his mouth, moaning with pleasure. And in the next moment she gave a startled gasp as Adrian scooped her up and moved to sit on the end of the bed.

"I should not be doing this," he murmured against her cheek as he broke the kiss and let his lips travel to her neck and ear.

"No, we should not," Clarissa agreed, her hands slid-

ing
over his shoulders and upper chest as she tilted her head to give him better access.

"I am not showing you the proper respect." His words were breathed with regret, and Clarissa shuddered as tingles ran through her body, rushing all the way down to her toes. At that moment, respect seemed highly overrated. Certainly if this was disrespect, she seemed to like it. Perhaps she wasn't a proper lady after all.

"Tell me to stop," Adrian murmured, kissing the length of her throat.

Clarissa opened her mouth, then gasped as one of his hands closed over her breast.

"Oh," she breathed, arching into his touch. "Maybe ... maybe in a .. .
Ohh
." She sighed as he kneaded the soft flesh through her gown, and her body was assaulted by waves of alien sensation. Her muscles were all flexing and curling with excitement, and heat was pooling in her lower body. This was amazing.

"Maybe what?" Adrian asked, sounding a little out of breath.

"Maybe you should kiss me again," Clarissa gasped—though she was sure that hadn't been what she'd intended to say at all.

A growl slid from Adrian's lips, then they covered hers, and Clarissa slid her hands into his hair, unable to keep from knotting them there as she opened her lips to receive him. Her body had suddenly come alive in a way that she'd never experienced. Whole parts of it, which she'd hardly been aware of, or had neglected as unseemly to notice, were making their presence known as she kissed him back.

Inexperienced as she was, there was the fear at the

back of Clarissa's mind that she didn't really have a clue what she was doing and might be doing it poorly or wrong; but that was eased when Adrian groaned at the back of his throat and his kiss became even more heated, more demanding. She must be doing something right—or at least passably—to elicit such a reaction, she decided vaguely, then felt the mattress against her back and realized he'd laid her down.

"Just a little," Adrian panted as he broke away again.

'Yes," Clarissa gasped, though she hadn't a clue what she was agreeing to. She didn't really care, so long as these feelings didn't stop.

"Just a little kissing and touching, and then I shall stop—I promise," Adrian said, and Clarissa understood what he meant and thought it a fine idea. Except for the stopping part. Clarissa didn't want this to ever end. She'd never felt so wonderful, so alive.

It wasn't until his mouth replaced his hand that Clarissa realized that he'd somehow gotten several buttons of her nightgown undone, and had tugged it off one shoulder to bare her breast. His warm lips closed around her nipple, and Clarissa nearly flew off the bed with surprise at the shocking charge sent through her body.

"Oh," she breathed, her legs shifting restlessly and her hands moving over his head, then shoulders. Then she caught her hands in his waistcoat and tugged. It took a moment for her pleasure-drugged mind to realize that wouldn't work, and she began to push to remove it instead, shoving the garment off his shoulders and down his arms as far as she could. Fortunately, her actions hampered his movements enough that he took over the task and removed the jacket for her.

Clarissa let her hands drift over the soft cloth of his shirt, clenching it in her fingers and dragging upward, eager to touch his naked flesh.

Adrian broke away and said, "No," but the word wasn't very firm-sounding. It was more of a plea. And when he shifted up to kiss her, Clarissa ignored his no and tugged his shirt the rest of the way out of his pants, sliding her hands underneath to move them curiously over the skin of his back.