Miss Winthorpe's Elopement (18 page)

H
e took her to the formal dining room, which was set for two. And she watched as the servants went through their paces, attempting to impress their new mistress with speed of service and excellence of presentation.

She wondered what Jem thought of it all, and if they had managed to force some work out of him, or had he found a warm corner somewhere to sleep. Perhaps she could find a post for him, something that involved short hours and long naps.

And while her husband might think of them as being totally alone in Wales, she found the room crowded with servants. There were footmen behind each chair and a regular influx of courses arriving and departing. She watched Adam, who was staring at the contents of his plate, but doing very little with it. He must think himself alone, for he seemed to have forgotten her entirely. Instead, he cast furtive glances in the direction
of the damaged wing, as though he could sense it through the walls.

By the look in his eyes, he had been wrong. He might think that things were over, and managed to keep them at bay when he was in London and could keep busy enough to ignore them. But his good spirits had begun to evaporate the moment he had opened the door to the ballroom. She wondered how many rooms of the house held bad memories for him. She imagined Clarissa, as Tim had described her, attempting to trap Adam in an indiscretion. The music gallery had been an excellent choice, if she wished discovery.

But had it been the first attempt? Or had she taken every opportunity she could to embarrass her husband and create talk? Penny might be forced to see her own husband starting at ghosts of memory in every room of their home.

Why must the woman have been so beautiful and so audacious? So without shame as to be unforgettable? How was she expected to compete? When they were together, in the inn, Penny had felt like the only woman in the world to him. And in scant hours, he had forgotten her.

The idea angered her, and she prepared to count, when it occurred to her that, in fighting this battle, a measured and thoughtful response would not win the day. If she thought at all, she would never have the nerve to act.

She looked back at Adam, who was staring into his dessert in confusion, as though wondering where the
earlier courses had got to. She slid her chair closer to his, so that they might not be overheard. ‘Adam. Darling. I was wondering if you had given thought as to where we would sleep?’

He started, and looked up at her. ‘I am sorry. I had forgotten. You must be tired after such a long journey. You will take the mistress’s suite, of course. I will find somewhere.’ He shrugged. ‘One of the guest rooms. I doubt I will sleep well this first night.’ He gave her a tight, pained smile. ‘I had hoped to be in better spirits. There are uneasy memories. But do not let me disturb you.’

She pulled her chair closer still, until their knees were touching under the table. ‘You are disturbing me very much, husband. For I was rather under the impression that you would be disturbing me tonight. And I find the prospect of a lack of disturbance…most disturbing.’

He started again, as if waking from a bad dream. ‘You still wish…’ He raised his eyebrows.

‘To reclaim my garter. If you still have it, of course. The way you are acting, I am beginning to suspect that you have forgotten where it is.’

He looked at her, with the long slow smile he used to charm her into so many things, and said, ‘I have it on my person, at this moment.’

She took a large sip of wine, to steady her nerves. ‘Really? I do not believe you. Show it to me.’

The roguish light was back in his eyes again. ‘You must find it for yourself, if you are so curious to see it.’

She toyed with her glass and gauged the locations of the servants, and how much they were likely to see. It was some small consolation that, should any word reach the outside about the indiscretions of the Duke of Bellston, from now on they would involve the duchess as well.

Then she took another drink, casually dropped her hand below the table as though to adjust her napkin, and ran her fingers up her husband’s leg.

He choked on his water and gripped the edge of the table. When he had regained his breath, he whispered, ‘What the devil are you doing?’

‘What you suggested I do,’ she whispered back. ‘Where else would you wear a garter? You know where it was when you removed it.’ Her hand travelled farther up his thigh and his face went white as the blood left it.

‘But I do not feel anything.’ She gathered all her nerve and thought about last night at the inn. And then she sent her hand higher up his thigh, under his napkin, and undid two of the buttons on his trousers, slipping her hand into the gap. After a few seconds she said, ‘And while this is very interesting, I do not think it is a garter, either.’

‘Out!’

She sought to remove her hand, but he pressed down on it through the napkin, trapping it where it was.

He turned his head to the footmen at the door, ‘Go. All of you. We do not need you. Thank the cook. Wonderful meal. But no more. Do not bother to clear away, just go. And lock the door behind you.’

When he heard the click of the latch, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. Then he closed his eyes and said in a hoarse voice, ‘You may continue looking.’

She undid some more buttons, moved the napkin, and peeked beneath the table. When he caught her looking, she said, ‘Last night, it was very dark. And I was not wearing my glasses.’

‘Oh.’

His response to what she had said sounded quite like a moan, and she smiled in triumph. She looked again, as she felt him shuddering under her hand as she stroked him. ‘Shall we play hot and cold?’

‘Very hot,’ he murmured, and tore at the knot on his cravat.

‘I am still looking for the garter, silly. I do not think you have it hidden here at all.’

With one hand, he yanked at the buttons on his waistcoat, and the other cupped the back of her head, dragging her mouth to his for a desperate kiss. When his chest was bare, he pulled her empty hand to his heart, and she stroked the hair on his chest, and the nipples hidden in it. He broke the kiss and guided her mouth down to them, letting her bite and suck as he had done for her, while he fumbled at the closures on her gown, swearing as he fought to dispense with her clothes.

Had she unbalanced him to that degree? A feeling of power rushed through her, along with desire, and she could feel her body readying itself for what was to
come. Her breasts ached to be touched, and as she stroked him she could feel the heat building inside her, where he would soon be.

She stopped what she was doing and enjoyed the moment, and then looked at her husband. She’d thought him a master of seduction. But tonight the tables were turned, and he could not undo the simple knot that held her stays in place. ‘Really, Adam. If you cannot manage, perhaps I shall go to my room and send for the maid.’

‘You will do no such thing.’ He grabbed her hands and placed them firmly on his knees, bending her over the arm of his chair. ‘Do not move.’ And then he seized a knife from the table in front of them, and slit the lacings of her corset from bottom to top.

She sat up and took a deep breath, which he stole with another kiss and then pulled the thing free of her, and threw it on to the floor. She stood up and let the gown follow it, and then he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her to sit on the table, kissing her face, her throat and her breasts. Between the kisses he undid the last button on his trousers. Pushing them out of the way, he panted, ‘Sorry, darling. Most undignified. And not as gentle as I should be. I cannot help myself.’

He could not help himself. And he was talking to her. She took a breath to calm her nerves, and then pulled up her chemise and spread her legs, leaning back to tip her hips up. ‘Stop talking and take me.’

‘Say that you love me,’ he whispered. ‘I want to hear you say the words.’

And it was surprisingly easy to tell him the truth. ‘I love you,’ she whispered back.

This time, he was the one to groan, ‘Soon.’ And he kissed her again, rough and insistent. So she reached out and put her hand to him again, and mimicked the strength of his kiss. She could feel herself losing the boundary between what she was feeling, and what he must be feeling as he found her with his fingers and thrust.

She rocked her hips against his hand, and let him fill her, as the feelings grew inside of her, and his sex grew slippery in her palm.

‘Very soon,’ he whispered. His hips thrust toward hers until the head of his sex rested against her, and she writhed against it, stroking so that it rubbed her body where it felt most right. She was trembling with excitement, balancing on the edge of something wonderful. He removed his fingers from her, clutching her hip with his hand to steady her, and bring her closer to him.

The emptiness frustrated her, and she stroked harder, feeling him tremble, and rubbed herself with him until his sex slipped against the opening to her body, making her gasp.

And he said, ‘Now,’ and drove into her.

There was a shock of pain, and he kissed her until it hardly mattered, and the tension grew in her again. He pushed her back to brace her hands on the table so that her hips stayed steady, put his hands on her breasts and thrust, over and over again, staring into her eyes.

She leaned back and wrapped her legs around him
so that the friction of their bodies changed, driving her wild with touches that were never long enough. But they brought her close again, so very close. And when he shuddered against her and stopped, she moaned in protest until he stroked her with his thumb and took her over the edge.

When she came back to herself, they had moved very little. She held him inside her, her legs wrapped around his waist, and he was leaning over her on the table, staring down into her face.

He dropped a kiss on her lips, and glanced around the shambles they had made of dinner. What clothing they had managed to remove was scattered around them, chairs were tipped, and goblets were knocked over on the table. He reached beside her, and fed her a candied apricot from the dessert tray, watching her mouth with interest as she ate. ‘In case you are wondering,’ he said, ‘I had intended something a bit more sedate for our first evening together.’

‘Oh, really?’ she touched her tongue to her lips, and waited as he offered her a bit of cake.

He furrowed his brow. ‘I believe my original plan was to seduce you at my leisure, and render you docile and agreeable through lust.’

‘And my garter?’

‘Is tied around my shirt sleeve, for I thought, perhaps, you would summon the nerve to help me off with my jacket.’

‘And what do you think of your plan now?’ She shifted her legs to grip him tighter.

He sighed and smiled. ‘It is an utter failure. You control me body and soul. Command me.’ And he looked supremely happy to have lost.

She released him, and offered her hand to him, so that he could help her down from the table. ‘Take me to our bedroom.’

His smile broadened and he scooped up her dress and tossed it over her head. Laughing and whispering, they collected the rest of the discarded clothing and a plate of cakes. Then he opened the door, checked the hall to make sure it was empty and they ran from the room together, not stopping until they were safely behind the closed bedroom door.

A
dam came down to the breakfast room and took his usual seat. His coffee was already poured, the mail was stacked beside the plate, and his wife was seated at his side. Life was as close to perfect as any man had a right to expect.

Penny was as happy in Wales as he had known she would be, even more so now that they had each other. For a month, they had awoken every morning, tangled in the sheets and each other, breakfasted together, and then he went to his study, and she to the library. He could read his paper, ride out to inspect the property, or argue with the workmen who had begun renovations on the ballroom, knowing that when he came back, his steadfast Penelope would be waiting for him.

They had not yet made love in the library, perhaps because he had spent so little time there, before Penny had come to the house. She had learned the measure of
him, on that first night. And now, if she felt he was growing morose, or attempting to dwell in the past, she had but to lock the door and show him a flash of garter, and he was lost to the world.

But any suggestions made in the library would be of his own doing. He looked up into her face, startled by the thought, and smiled as he caught her looking at him.

‘Excuse me?’

‘What?’

‘Was there something…?’

They spoke in unison, to cover their mutual confusion, and fell silent at the same time.

‘The eggs,’ he lied. ‘I bit down on a piece of shell.’

‘I will speak to Cook.’

‘Do not worry, it is nothing.’

She nodded and looked down into her plate.

‘They are very good eggs today,’ he supplied. ‘The best I have ever tasted, I think.’

‘You say that every morning.’ She went back to her breakfast. But she was blushing.

At some point, he would have to return to London, or share her with the world. But not just yet. For now, they were the only two people on earth, and it was enough. He opened the first letter on the stack, and a folded sheet dropped on to his plate.

He recognised his own hand, and remembered the letter well. It had been drunken folly to have written it. He should have thrown it on the fire rather than sent it. And it was hardly the most damning thing he put to paper in the months before the fire.

It was accompanied by another sheet, with a single line.

Come to me at Colton, or I shall go to her.

Clare

She had followed them to Wales.

‘Something interesting in the mail?’ Penny did not look up from her tea.

‘Nothing important.’ Perhaps he had grown better at concealing his feelings from her, for she did not seem to notice that the room had gone cold, or that his mouth had filled with smoke and ashes.

‘Then I will leave you to it, and return to work.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Ithaca calls.’

‘With its rosy fingers of dawn?’

‘There must be a better way to say that,’ she said, and wandered down the hall, lost in thought.

He stared back at the letter in front of him, and then threw it into the fireplace, watching the edges curl and the words disappear. He poked at the bits of ash until there could be nothing left of them to read.

Then he went to the stables to saddle a horse.

The Colton property abutted his, and as he rode toward it, he could feel the tightening in his chest. He
should have spoken the truth to Penny, and got it over with. Soon she would be seeing Clarissa again, and that it would be impossible to avoid contact, if the Coltons had returned to Wales.

But it was very unlike them to be here in the summer. Clare much preferred Bath. He had not been prepared for the letter, and he had no response at hand. Perhaps the situation was not as bad as it seemed. He could assess, and return to Penny by lunch, with an explanation.

Tim’s house seemed as it always did, preternaturally quiet. There was nothing to indicate that the family was in residence, although what he expected to find, he was not sure. Tim must be out riding in the hills. Probably trying to avoid his wife.

The servant allowed him entrance and took him to the sitting room without introduction.

Clare was waiting for him, lounging on a divan in dishabille, her dressing gown artfully arranged to display a length of bare leg, the globe of a breast, and the barest hint of nipple, peeking from the ruffles of lace. ‘Adam. At last.’

Her voice raised the hairs on the back of his neck, just as it always did, and he wondered how he could have mistaken the feeling for passion. ‘Clarissa. Why have you come here?’

‘Because it is my home.’

‘It is Tim’s home. And you loathe it. You have told us often enough.’

‘Then I will be honest. I came because I missed you.’
She pulled a pretty pout, which made her look more like a spoiled child than a seductress. ‘It has been so long.’

‘Barely a month.’

‘Why did you leave London?’

‘You should know that. I sought to be where my wife would be happiest.’
And to be where you were not
.

‘Timothy would not let us travel home to be near you. He insists on staying in the city, although it is unbearably hot, and everyone of fashion is leaving.’

‘Go to Bath, then. Somewhere that suits you.’

She sighed. ‘I did not want Bath. I longed for the comforts of home. If he does not wish to follow, I cannot very well force him. He may stay in the city with the children for all I care.’

‘You left your husband and your children as well.’ Adam shook his head in disgust.

She shifted, allowing her robe to fall open, so that there could be no mistake of her plans for the next hour. ‘I am totally alone, if you still fear discovery. My servants know better than to talk. And your wife spends most days poring over her books, does she not? No one will be the wiser.’

‘I thought I made it clear that there would be nothing more between us.’

‘On the contrary. You think that by saying nothing, and running away from me, you can end what we had together. If you truly wanted to end it, you would have told me so, outright. But I think you are afraid to speak to me. You are still not sure what you will say to me,
Adam, when we are alone. And I have your letters, you know. I read them often. I know the contents of your heart.’

He felt a wave of humiliation, remembering the things he had written to her. Words he wished he’d have saved for the woman who deserved them. ‘That is all in the past, Clare. If you must hear me speak the truth plainly, before you believe it, then listen now. Anything that there was between us is at an end. I will not come crawling back to you like a whipped dog. I have a wife now.’

‘Why should it matter? I have always had a husband, and it did not seem to bother you.’

The mention of Tim cut at his heart. ‘It bothered me a great deal, Clarissa. He is my friend.’

‘And I am your lover.’

‘Do not dignify what we did by calling it love. There was no higher feeling involved than lust. I disgusted myself with my behaviour.’

She laughed. ‘You did not seem so disgusted at the time, as I remember it.’

‘I betrayed Tim. That was why you were so eager to snare me, was it not? You enjoyed our liaisons all the more, for knowing how it would hurt your husband.’

‘I viewed it as a challenge,’ she admitted. ‘To see if my charms were strong enough to break your fragile sense of honour. And it snapped like a twig. Now you think silence, distance and a hasty marriage is all it will take to gain your freedom.

‘Do you not remember trying this trick before with
me? The cold silence. You lasted for six months. And when you came back, I made you beg before I would let you share my bed.’ She tipped her head to the side and smiled in remembrance. ‘It was really quite amusing. I wonder what I shall make you do this time, once you grow bored with your shop clerk and you want me again.’

He heard the words and, for the first time in months, everything came clear. Suddenly, as if a bond had been cut, he felt truly free of her. And it was his turn to laugh. ‘You trapped me well, with your sly affections and your subtle advances. You came to me when I was most vulnerable, when I was troubled, or lonely, or too drunk to care what I was doing. You used my weaknesses against me and took what you wanted. And afterwards, you left me broken. Cursed by my actions, ashamed of what I had become.

‘But when Penny found me in that state, she gave herself to me until I was healed. She has made me, in a few short weeks, into the man I wished I was. I can never give her what she truly deserves, for nothing I have is equal to her casual generosity towards me.

‘I love her, Clarissa. And I never loved you.’

She laughed back at him. Long and hard and unladylike. ‘Never mind, then. For she appears to have made you into the very thing I abhor. The virtuous prig that you never were, before you met her. Your head is full of romantic nonsense. What you mistake for sincerity is emotional claptrap. I wash my hands of you.’

He felt a flood of relief. And then he saw her smile, which was sly and catlike, and knew that there was no chance in the world that he would escape so easily.

She continued. ‘Since your love for her is true, I assume that you have her heart as well. So she will stand by you, head held high, while I reveal the particulars of our relationship to the world. You detailed in writing what we had done, and what you wished to do. I could send the letters to your wife, as a belated wedding gift. Or shall I leave them for Timothy some morning, mixed up with the mail? Or I could take them to our friends in London, to read aloud. Everyone will find it most diverting, I am sure.’

The idea of it turned his stomach. There was so much shame to be had in his past behaviour. Heaps of disgrace for all concerned. Timothy would no longer be able to feign ignorance, and must be moved to act. He would meet his best friend at dawn with a weapon in his hand, and attempt to defend himself for an indefensible action.

Will would shake his head in pity, as he had at the news of the marriage, and at all the other stupid things Adam had done in his life. Perhaps Adam was destined to be an eternal source of disappointment, and a terrible example to his brother.

But Penny. If Penny found out, it would be worst of all. Would she be more hurt by a full revelation from Clare, or would the
ton
throw the information back in her face some night, when she least expected it? Either way, it did not seem likely that she would wish to make love to him in the library, once she knew all the sordid
details of his affair. She might return to her study and never venture forth again.

And the worst of it was that the truth could leave him relatively untouched. What did it matter what people said of him? For no matter how shocked the world might be, he was Bellston until he died.

But it would wound the people most dear to his heart.

What were the alternatives? He could return to Clarissa, to buy her silence for a time, and hope that she would grow bored enough to let him go. It would hurt the same people just as much, if not more. For how could he claim that his infidelity was meant to lessen the damage? There was no easy answer. But the choice between right and wrong was clear. Better to bear the agony, lance the wound, and allow the poison to drain, than to leave things as they were, dying from within.

He opened his eyes and stared at Clarissa. ‘Do your worst, then. I should have expected no less from you, for you are wicked to the bone. Bring down the ruin upon my head. It is just as I have deserved, and I have known for a long time that there was no preventing it. What will happen will happen. But do not think that you can control me any longer with the fear of revelation. Whatever may occur, I am through with you, Clarissa.’

And he turned and left the room, feeling lighter than he had, despite the sense of impending doom.