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“What in the blazes are you doing in here?” Jack demanded. “At this hour of the morning? And in my sister’s bed no less!”

A heavy silence descended, the usually soft ticking of the mantel clock growing loud as a gong, or so it seemed to Mallory.

With a casual style she could only admire, Adam crossed his stocking feet at the ankles. “Would you believe I was comforting her?” he said.

Jack’s gaze shot from one to the other of them. “
Comforting her!
Is that what you call it? Why
you
—”

“Adam
was
comforting me,” Mallory interrupted. “I couldn’t sleep, and he came to help.”

Mallory shivered as her brother’s eyes narrowed. “Help, is it? Well, I don’t much care for his kind of
help.
” Jack’s palms bunched into fists at his sides as he glared at Adam. “Did you touch her?”

Adam met his friend’s look, clearly unfazed. “Whatever your sister and I did, or did not do, is none of your business. It’s between her and me, and it’s private.”

Jack bristled. “Private! By God, it’s not private, not when it has to do with my little sister. So, did you?”

When Adam refused to answer, Jack’s gaze shot to Mallory. “You can tell me, Pell-Mell,” he said, using her old nickname in an understanding voice. “I promise I won’t be angry. Did he touch you?”

She opened her mouth to say no, but before the word had a chance to form, memories of the heated kisses and passionate caresses she’d shared with Adam raced through her mind. Her nipples peaked, aching anew as she thought of Adam touching her breasts and the enthralling sensation of his mouth drawing pleasurably upon her. Before she could prevent the reaction, her skin grew hot, her cheeks burning like fireplace coals.

“Why you underhanded bastard!” Jack roared. “And to think I trusted you with her. To think all of us, the whole family, let you go off alone with her these past couple of weeks. Here we were imagining her safe in your company, when all the while you were working your schemes on her. I thought you were her friend. Instead, you wanted nothing more than to seduce her into your bed.”

“Actually, I believe this is
her
bed,” Adam replied smoothly.

A muscle ticked near Jack’s eye. “Don’t be flippant.”

“And don’t you be a hypocrite.”

Grace sent her husband a rueful glance. “I suppose he does have a bit of a point, darling.”

To Mallory’s surprise, a faint flush spread up Jack’s throat, the muscle in his cheek giving another tic. “No, he doesn’t, since this isn’t about me. And don’t try changing the subject.”

“Is that what I was doing?” Adam drawled.

“Sometimes, Gresham…” Jack pounded a fist into his palm, looking like he’d rather be pounding it into something—or rather someone—else.

“Look, Jack,” Adam said with a sigh, “before you burst a vein in that hard head of yours, why don’t you give me a chance to explain—”

“Explain! Explain what?” Jack tossed back. “I believe I’ve heard more than enough already, especially with the evidence staring me right in the eyes.”

“Now, Jack,” Grace said, reaching out to wrap a hand around his arm. “Perhaps you should give Adam a chance—”

“I don’t need to give him anything except an opportunity to name his seconds. I ought to call you out for this, you know. I ought to put a bloody bullet in you since it’s no more than you deserve.”

Adam sat up on the bed, his jaw tilted at a pugnacious angle. “You’re certainly welcome to try.”

“Stop it! Both of you,” Mallory cried, flinging out an arm toward Adam as if to protect him. “There will be no talk of duels or bloodshed.”

Obviously aware how upset she was, Adam leaned toward her. “He’s just angry, Mal. He’s not really serious.”

“Speak for yourself, Gresham,” Jack retorted.

“Jack!” Grace admonished.

Tears sprang into Mallory’s eyes, a knot of misery lodging in her chest. “Hasn’t there been enough violence and death already with this horrible war? I l-l-lost Michael. I won’t lose either of you, certainly not over something as stupid as a duel of honor. Don’t you dare say such dreadful things to each other. D-don’t you d-dare let any of this come between you when you’ve always been such good friends. I won’t have it. I won’t be the cause…”

She broke off, crying now in earnest. Adam’s arms came around her and pulled her against his chest.

“Now, look what you’ve done,” Adam accused, hugging her closer. “Get out, Byron, before you upset her any more.”

“I believe you’re the one who should leave,” Jack shot back.

“I’m not going anywhere, not with Mallory in tears. If you want words, we can have them later when—”

“God’s nightgown, what is all this racket going on?” demanded a deep, authoritative voice, which clearly belonged to Edward. “Some of the guests are beginning to gather outside in the corridor.”

Hearing her eldest brother’s words, Mallory cried harder.

“And I thought Meg’s giving birth was enough of an uproar for one morning.” Edward paused. “Gresham, is that you?”

“Good morning, Clybourne,” Adam replied. “I wondered when you might happen along.”

Well imagining the expression that must be on Ned’s face, she half expected Adam to set her aside. Instead, he continued holding her within the comforting circle of his arms. Drawing a shuddering breath, she tried to stop weeping, but the tears flowed freely in spite of her best efforts.

“Given the circumstances,” Edward said, “I don’t believe I need to ask the cause of the dispute. However, this is neither the time nor place to resolve the situation—”

“I’ll resolve it,” Jack interrupted. “With my fists.”

Adam tensed, as more tears leaked down Mallory’s cheeks. “What did I say about upsetting her,” he warned.

“And what did
I
say about taking your damned hands off her—”

“Gentlemen, that is quite enough—” Edward declared in an icy tone.

“Jiminy!” a new voice piped from the doorway.

“And Jehoshaphat!” echoed another that sounded remarkably like the first.

Oh mercy,
Mallory thought.
Now the twins are here. Is the whole family going to end up in my bedchamber?

She had her answer a second later when she heard more footsteps enter the room, including one set that was slightly uneven. “What are you all doing in here?” Cade asked. “The doctor just arrived for Meg and—why the deuce is Gresham in bed with Mallory?”

“I believe that is what’s known as a rhetorical question,” Drake observed.

Mortified that all six of her brothers were now in the room, Mallory wished she could sink into the floor—or pull the covers over her head at least. Instead, she accepted the monogrammed handkerchief Adam pressed into her palm and buried her face in the silk.

“That’s two kerchiefs you owe me now, or is it three?” he whispered so only she could hear. “Don’t worry, Mal. Everything will be fine.”

But how could anything be fine,
she wondered,
when they’d landed so deep in the suds?

“Do you know that half the houseguests are standing in the hall?” Claire asked, as she joined the gathering. “What in heaven’s name are you all doing in here when Meg is—
Oh
!”

Mallory didn’t need to lift her head to know she and Adam had been spotted.

“Exactly,” Edward said. “Now we’ve all seen enough, and clearly the guests have heard enough, so it’s time everyone moved along.”

“But, Ned, you can’t just let this go,” Jack complained, rejoining the conversation.

“Certainly not. Honor demands Gresham do the proper thing by our girl,” Cade said.

The twins and Drake gave murmurs of agreement.

“I am sure he will,” Edward stated in a calm-yet-uncompromising tone. “Later. For now, Meg and the new baby should be everyone’s main focus. And breakfast for those of you who have the stomach to eat, which I don’t believe includes Cade given his present coloring. Coffee for him, I think. Black, no sugar. Drake, Jack, go with your brother.”

Mallory lowered the handkerchief enough to see the men cast severe, this-isn’t-over-yet looks at Adam. Jack brushed a kiss across Grace’s cheek and murmured something to her before he left with his brothers.

“As for you two,” Edward said to the twins, “I’m sure you can find some other means of occupying yourselves.” Her younger brothers shared conspiratorial grins, obviously already planning some mischief she hoped wouldn’t land them in trouble too.

“My dear,” Edward said to Claire, “perhaps you could ring for Mallory’s maid so she might dress, then all of you ladies can join Meg.”

Claire nodded, while Grace slipped out so she could change her attire as well.

“Gresham, I shall see you in my study after breakfast,” Edward stated. “Nine o’clock, shall we say?”

“Of course, Your Grace,” Adam replied with ease. “Nine it is.”

Turning on his heel, Edward strode into the now-empty corridor—the guests apparently having had the good sense to disperse as well.

Then it was just Mallory and Adam once more, Claire being kind enough to give them a moment of privacy by strolling across to stand in front of the windows at the far end of the bedroom.

“Adam, I’m sorry—” Mallory began, her voice husky with tears.

“Shh,
” he said, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. “You have no need to be sorry. I told you it’s going to be all right.”

“But—”

He laid a finger across her lips. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” Despite Claire’s presence in the room, he removed his finger and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her mouth. “Get dressed, have something to eat, then go see Meg. We shall talk later.”

“Oh, Adam—”

“Look, here’s Penny now,” he said, as her maid crossed into the room, a surprised expression on the servant’s face. Casually, as if he spent every night in Mallory’s bed, he stood and looked for his shoes, which he found easily given all the sunlight now creeping through the windows. As dressed as he was going to be with no cravat or jacket, he bent again and pressed his lips to hers for a tender, reassuring kiss.

Ears buzzing, she barely heard her maid’s gasp of astonishment.

Then Adam was gone.

Clutching his dampened handkerchief in her fist, she stared across at Claire.

“Black coffee for us both, Penny,” the duchess said. “I think we’re all going to need it.”

Chapter 11

Z
achary George Byron made his entrance into the world just after six o’clock that evening, unleashing a healthy wail that echoed throughout the house. Having helped attend Meg through the long hours of labor and birth, Mallory was weary, but satisfied, unable to feel anything other than joy at having witnessed the arrival of her newest nephew.

Across the room, Meg now lay dozing, Cade seated beside the bed, his wife’s hand clasped securely inside his own. On his face was an expression of relief and happiness as he watched her sleep.

Poor Cade had looked pale as a ghost during the height of Meg’s labor, Mallory recalled, her brother arriving at the bedroom door to see if his wife was dying. Claire, Grace and Mama had been trying to reassure him that all was well when Meg let loose a string of curses that would have made even her late father, the Admiral, blush. Ten minutes later, with Cade at her side, their second son was born.

While the new parents were celebrating, Mallory had gone into the hallway to share the good news with her brothers. To her surprise, she found Adam with them, seemingly at ease despite that morning’s explosive row in her bedchamber.

It was the first time since then that she’d seen Adam. Apparently his talk with Edward must have gone well, she thought. Or well enough anyway that her brothers had called a truce rather than decide to lock him up in the medieval dungeon that lay beneath the house. She didn’t know if that boded good or ill, and with all the excitement over the baby, she didn’t have the opportunity to speak alone with Adam to find out.

After a few brief, admiring peeks at little Zachary—who, Meg admitted, would not be called Neville, Orson or Oswald—the men dragged Cade downstairs to drink a congratulatory toast and smoke cheroots. Ravenously hungry, the ladies repaired to the family dining room for a late dinner, Ava remaining behind with Meg.

Now at nearly eleven o’clock, Mallory returned to look in on Meg and the baby. After a quiet knock, she went inside the bedroom and found her sister-in-law asleep. Cade sat in a chair beside her holding Meg’s hand, the baby swaddled safely in dreams where he lay inside his great, hand-carved mahogany cradle.

Tiptoeing back out, she closed the door soundlessly behind her, turned and jumped. “Adam! Gracious, where did you come from?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said in a quiet voice before sending a nod toward the door. “Everyone doing well?”

“Quite well,” she said. “I won’t be surprised if Meg is up tomorrow and introducing Max to his little brother.”

“At only two years of age, I suspect he won’t be nearly as impressed with the new baby as all the rest of us.”

“No, I don’t suppose he will be.” Linking her hands in front of her, she studied the pattern in the hall carpeting. “Adam, about this morning—”

He halted her with a touch, her gaze lifting to meet his. “It’s been a long day, and you’re tired,” he said. “Let’s talk about everything tomorrow.”

“But what did Edward say? And what about Jack? Earlier, it seemed as if the two of you were back on speaking terms, but he was so angry this morning.” Reaching out, her fingers closed over the fabric of his coat sleeve. “He has rescinded his challenge against you, has he not? The two of you aren’t going to duel—because if that’s how you’re resolving the matter, you can find some other way. I won’t have you fighting. I won’t stand aside and see you injured, either of you.”

“Calm yourself,” he hushed. “There will be no duel and no fisticuffs either. I had a chat with Jack today, and we’ve reached an understanding.”

“What kind of
understanding
?”

“The kind that you and I will talk about tomorrow.” Covering her hand where it lay on his arm, he drew her into a walk, turning her in the direction of her bedchamber. “Now, I want you to go to your room, put all of this from your mind and sleep.”

“But what if I can’t?” she asked, strolling at his side. “What if I lie awake or…”
What if I have the nightmare
?
The cause of so much trouble.

She swallowed sharply at the thought.

“If you can’t sleep,” he said, “I want you to ring for Penny and have her make you a hot milk posset. And if that still doesn’t suffice, ask her to send for Jack and me, and we three shall sit in the drawing room and play a round of cards.”

“But Adam—”

“What have I said before about ‘buts’? Now, here we are,” he said, drawing them to a halt in front of her bedroom door. Turning, he faced her, reaching to skim a finger across her cheek.

She trembled, her pulse hammering out an erratic beat. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

Something flickered deep in his gaze before he leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Sleep well, Mallory. Promise you’ll call your maid and drink that posset if the need arises.”

“All right, I promise.”

He stepped away. “Good. I’m sure Penny’s inside waiting for you now. Until tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

He strode away.

Resisting the urge to call him back, she forced herself to enter her room.

Mallory awakened the next morning, surprised to discover that she’d not only slept, but that she had done so deeply and without dreams. She’d been so sure she wouldn’t be able to rest, but only moments after climbing beneath the sheets, she’d been out like one of the candles Penny had snuffed before departing for the evening.

Obviously, I was exhausted,
she mused, so much so that even the nightmare hadn’t possessed the power to intrude on her slumber.

Tossing back the covers, she padded barefoot across the Aubusson carpet and rang for her maid. Dressed half an hour later in an ecru muslin day dress spotted with tiny green leaves, she took a seat at the small table in her sitting room. Sipping from a cup of tea, she opened the note that had arrived from Adam.

Meet me in the music room at half past ten. I shall await you there.
Your Servant,
Adam

A quick glance at the clock showed that only twenty minutes remained before the appointed time. Swallowing against the nerves that suddenly jangled in her stomach, she pushed aside her uneaten plate of toast and eggs. As she did, she found herself wondering exactly what Adam was going to have to say about his talk with Edward. She supposed she would find out soon enough.

Adam plucked a string on the harp in the music room, listening to the ethereal note vibrate on the air as he waited for Mallory to arrive.

She must have slept, he decided, since she hadn’t sent Penny to find him last night. For Mallory’s sake, he was glad. Then again, he wouldn’t have minded a late-night card game nor a reason to roust Jack out of his comfortable bed and his wife’s adoring arms.

Under the circumstances, it would have served Jack right.

Even now, his friend’s attitude stung a bit, along with Jack’s instant assumption that he’d seduced Mallory and thoughtlessly stolen her innocence. The fact that he’d stopped just short of doing that very thing didn’t lessen the injury to his pride or his affront at knowing Jack thought him little more than an unscrupulous cad. He might have a wicked reputation, which was admittedly well deserved, but then so had Jack prior to his marriage.

Still, Adam supposed that he might have reacted the same had he found his sister in bed with his best friend. He’d have done anything to protect Delia, when she was alive, just as Jack did now for Mallory. As all her brothers did, the whole lot of them, standing together in her defense like the Queen’s personal guard.

He expected no less, of course, which was one of the main reasons he’d done his best to conceal his feelings for Mallory all these years. But those feelings were out in the open now, or enough of them at least that the Byron brothers had decided there was no need to tar and feather him or see him bloodied on the field of honor.

Given Mallory’s alarm at even the mention of a physical confrontation, he was glad her brothers had been willing to listen to reason. All of them—even intellectually minded Drake—were formidable fighters, their skills impressive with all manner of weaponry, including fists, pistols and swords. He too was considered lethal and he wasn’t afraid to fight. When it came to defending himself, he knew he could hold his own against any man, even the Byrons.

But emotionally he would be hard-pressed to battle his friends. Even more, Mallory would never forgive him if he harmed one of her brothers, leaving him doubly glad that words, rather than blows, had been sufficient to resolve the situation.

He was running his fingertips over another harp string when the door opened with a soft click. Glancing up, he watched Mallory slip inside. His arm fell to his side. “Good morning.”

She gave him a shy smile and moved a few steps farther into the room. “Good morning.”

He took a moment to note how beautiful she looked despite the pale hue to her skin and the uncertain glitter in her aquamarine eyes. Approaching, he took her hand and brushed a kiss across the top. She gave him a quizzical look before he released her again and crossed to shut the door.

“Are you sure you ought to do that?” she asked. “I don’t want Jack descending on us again, complaining we’re alone and challenging you to another duel.”

He sent her a reassuring smile. “There’s little chance of that. Besides, we’re in the music room today—a far-less-incendiary location than your bedchamber.”

“Very true.” She skimmed her fingers over her skirt in a nervous gesture. “So what did Ned have to say? Does he understand what happened and why you stayed with me the other night? Surely he doesn’t think…well, you know—”

“Come,” he said, gesturing toward a comfortable pair of chairs that stood near a sunny window. “Let us sit over here and talk.”

She paused at the delay before doing as he suggested. Only after she was settled did he seat himself in the chair opposite. “As you’re aware, His Grace and I met yesterday morning to discuss the events that transpired between you and me, and the uproar that followed. I explained why I came to your room, as well as the reason I remained.”

“You told him about my nightmares?”

“I did, and that you were too worried and frightened to be left alone.”

“So he
does
understand,” she said, tension sliding from her shoulders with clear relief. “I shall have to talk to Ned myself, of course, but I’m glad he realizes that nothing of any real consequence occurred.”

One of his eyebrows swept high. “I wouldn’t say that exactly.”

Color washed into her pale cheeks. “But surely you didn’t tell him about kissing me? That has nothing to do with our being found together, so there’s no reason why he needs to know.”

His mouth twisted into a wry smile, amused by her elaborate rationalization.

“Besides,” she went on, “I heard you tell Jack that what you and I did together was private and none of his business. I should think the same would apply to all my brothers, most especially Ned.”

Adam laughed, unable to restrain the impulse. “Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him I kissed you—or indulged in any of the other very pleasurable things we did. Then again, I had no need to do so.”

Her eyebrows drew close. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Edward isn’t stupid, nor is Jack, who saw you blush red as a Maharajah’s ruby when he asked if I’d touched you. But even if I hadn’t laid so much as a finger on you, it would make no difference.”

“Any difference to what?”

“Surely you must realize?” he said in a gentle voice.

But as she gazed at him, he knew she didn’t. Despite her knowledge of Society’s strictures that forbade an unwed young woman from being alone with a man, Mallory had obviously convinced herself there would be no lasting consequences to their having been discovered together.

Part of him wished there weren’t any repercussions. Certainly, he hadn’t planned on getting caught in her bed, and were it not for the fact that he’d fallen asleep, he would have been in his own room long before Grace paid her unexpected early-morning visit.

But he had fallen asleep.

He had gotten caught.

And there was no going back.

His intention, of course, had been to court Mallory, slowly and with patience in order to give her the time she needed to recover from her loss and see him as far more than a friend. For in spite of her passionate response to his kisses, he knew she wasn’t ready yet to accept everything he wanted to give.

But there was nothing for it now, and she would have to adapt to the reality of their situation. As for himself, he couldn’t feel entirely sorry.

He wanted her.

He loved her.

And he would take her by any means possible.

Meeting her interested gaze, he realized that she was waiting for him to explain. “What is it then that I’m supposed to know?” she asked.

“The fact that there is only one possible solution to this situation.”

Moving from his chair, he went down on one knee, then reached out and gathered her hand into his.

“Mallory Byron, will you marry me?”

BOOK: Wicked Delights of a Bridal Bed
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