by Ella Edon
“Yes, sir.” Lewis was staring at him, as if he’d never seen him before, and Cutler knew he was dying to ask where Lady Raymonde had come from, and how it had happened that she was here, now, safely. He was too professional for that, and only nodded and walked past to take his horse and lead him to the stables.
Cutler put his arm through Lady Raymonde’s, and together, they walked up the steps into the house.
“A feast,” Raymonde reprimanded gently. “Oh, Cutler…you do take things too far, sometimes, you know that.”
Cutler chuckled. Now that they were in the house, he felt safe and happy, his heart soaring. He saw Hanford in the doorway, and tensed, standing a little between him and Raymonde. He still didn’t quite trust him.
“Have the luncheon taken to the parlor, if you please,” he said firmly. “And have a bath drawn.”
“Yes, sir.”
Behind him, he heard Lady Raymonde cross the floor, her indoor shoes soft on the wooden floor. She smiled up at him happily. “Oh, Cutler,” she said softly. “A bath is just what I need.”
Cutler bent and pressed his lips to hers, and then crushed her body to him in a firm grasp. His heart melted and he breathed in the scent of her hair and knew that he would never want to be parted from her.
They went upstairs together, his arm around her. At the door to their bedroom, she paused.
“Cutler, my dear,” she said softly. “I want to see you, and well…more than that. But first, can I please bathe?”
Cutler nodded, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips. “Of course, my sweetling. I will see you at luncheon.”
He went up to the parlor and waited there. The cook and Miss Seaforth were busy laying out the lunch: carrying salvers and plates from a trolley to the table. The clink of knives and forks was the only sound in the room, besides the clock and the click of their footsteps on the wooden floor. Cutler was too tired to pay anything much heed. He sat where he was, eyes shut, feeling utterly drained.
Thank Heavens Mr. Hanford is elsewhere.
The last person he wanted to see right now was the cold, devious steward. He didn’t trust him at all. The more he learned about what had happened in the past, the more he came to realize that Hanford must have lied to him – or Hanford himself had been lied to. He didn’t know what to think about that.
“Should we keep the hot course aside, sir?” Miss Seaforth asked, disrupting his reverie.
“Um…yes. Thank you,” Cutler said. “I think my wife is busy bathing.”
He smiled to himself, thinking about Raymonde in the bath. He imagined it would be a real relief for her. He tried to distract himself from thoughts of her body, the warm water washing her skin, her curves highlighted by the shine of candlelight on the wetness. He felt his body stir in response to that thought.
“Cutler?” a soft voice greeted him.
“Oh!” Cutler shot to his feet as Raymonde entered. She smelled of lavender, and she was wearing a long dress in muslin, patterned with tiny flowers. Her hair was washed and clean, hanging in smooth curls over her shoulders. She looked radiant and lovely. “My Lady.” He smiled. “Luncheon has been set out – they’re holding the hot course back to preserve it.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Raymonde took his hand and squeezed it, the slight pressure thrumming through him and making his heart sing. “I am hungry!”
He grinned and pulled out a chair for her, then sat down opposite, ringing the bell as he did. When Seaforth appeared, he sent her down for the plates.
“Lobster!” Raymonde said excitedly, as Seaforth returned, lifting the silver covers. “My favorite!”
Cutler laughed and watched as she ate ravenously. He hadn’t known it was her favorite, but he’d been more than pleased when the cook had suggested it. He found her excitement about the meal a delightful thing.
“So,” Raymonde said, reaching for a crystal glass of cordial. “You have a lot to tell me about,” she said and raised a brow. “I still cannot believe you are here!”
Cutler nodded. In his haste to get her back home, he had almost forgotten about his own news – that the letter from Luke was fake. He leaned back in his chair, feeling full and content. He couldn’t believe how much he’d missed her, and the fact that she was here now, safe and sound, was more than he had ever wished for.
He frowned as he returned to the subject at hand. “Yes,” he said. “It appears my uncle is more devious than I’d ever imagined. That letter was false.”
“The letter?” Raymonde frowned, then stared at him, setting down her cutlery with a click. “Luke’s letter? Luke didn’t send it?”
“No,” Cutler said. “He didn’t. Luke looked at it with me. It’s nothing like his writing. He suggested we send it to a friend of his – an expert in forgeries – to see if he can determine the author.”
“You think it was your uncle?” Raymonde asked, licking her damp lips.
“Yes,” he said. “It seems too simple an explanation, doesn’t it? But, then…if he wished to get me in a vulnerable position, why did he not just send the letter himself, demanding that I visit him at Alford House? That would have been so simple.” He frowned.
“Would you have gone?” Raymonde asked.
Cutler leaned back, thinking about that. It was a deep question. “No,” he said after a moment. “Or, not alone, at any rate. I would have taken Lewis with me, at the very least.”
“Exactly,” Raymonde pointed out. “I think he knows that you distrust him.”
“He should know.” Cutler chuckled harshly. “I can’t believe, though, what a fool I’ve been. I should have seen years ago what he is.” That was the worst part. “Because of me, you were placed in danger.”
“You got me out, too,” she said lightly.
“I know,” Cutler said, feeling guilty. “But, really, you got yourself out. All I did was show up.”
“At just the right moment.” Raymonde smiled. He became aware of her foot beside his, the scent of lavender wafting towards him. He felt his heart lift and he wanted so badly to kiss her.
It seemed as if she agreed with his thoughts, because she set her knife and fork aside, reaching for the next course – a sweet pie. He nodded and called Seaforth to clear their things away, then cut a slice of pie for each of them.
They went upstairs, and Cutler felt his body melt into hers as he took her in his arms. He laid her on the bed tenderly, kissing her neck as he slowly removed her clothes.
She sighed and twined her arms around his neck and he hastily undressed, pressing his bare skin against her. His heart melted as he pressed his lips to hers, his body moving seamlessly against hers as if they were made of the same flesh.
He gasped as he entered her, and held her tight to him, knowing that he had never felt anything like this and knowing that he would never feel anything exactly like this again – the joy, sweetness and wonder of having her body pressed to him, her breath in his ear, her heart beating.
They cried out together, each finding release with the other, and they slept, sated, at peace.
Chapter Thirty-One
Discussion and Decisions
Raymonde rolled over in bed, feeling stiff but sleepy. She smiled as she felt a familiar presence behind her in the bed. She looked over her shoulder at Cutler, who was still half-asleep, eyes closed. He stirred and reached for her arm, his fingers clasping around her wrist.
“Good morning,” he whispered, pulling her into a warm embrace. She grinned, her lips lifting upwards as she felt her body melt to his. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.
“Well,” she whispered, her lips sliding over his in a soft kiss. “You?”
“So well.” He smiled, burying his face in her shoulder. “So well that I thought I’d sleep a thousand years.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Raymonde said firmly, grinning as she kissed him. “I would miss you, and I have no intention whatever of sleeping for a thousand years in sympathy with you.”
He laughed and drew
her to him, turning her around so that he kissed her full on the lips, her breasts against his chest, his arms around her waist. “I would rather spend fifty years with you than a thousand years sleeping and unaware,” he said softly.
“I should hope so.” She sniffed, and then grinned.
He laughed, and they kissed and then made love, slowly and tenderly. Her body, which had longed for his, welcomed him eagerly and unreservedly.
They slept a little longer, in each other’s arms, and then Cutler rolled onto his side.Raymonde stretched sleepily as he got out of bed, drawing back the curtains. The fire had burned down in the grate, and the room felt a little cool. She reached for a nightgown, wrapping it around her. It would take a while to get used to warmth, after those cold days in the attic.
She shuddered. There was much they had to do about that, to put it to rights, but for the moment, she would rather just forget about it. She had so many things to enjoy right here, so many things to do.
“I’ll go and find breakfast, shall I?” Cutler asked, shrugging on his shirt. “Unless you want to stay here…”
“No, I’ll dress,” Raymonde said swiftly, reaching for her petticoat, which lay discarded on the chair.
She shrugged off her nightclothes and pulled on the petticoat. It was so good to have fresh, clean clothes! She reached for the cupboard door, surveying her dresses with satisfaction. They had decided to dress alone, without the assistance of servants, since it was more important not to be disturbed.
“What should we do, today?” Cutler asked, bending to put on shoes. He had dressed surprisingly quickly, she thought with a wry grin, as she struggled to fasten the buttons of the spring-patterned gown.
“I would like to go for a walk,” she said firmly. She had wanted that for too long not to say it.
After breakfast, they took a turn about the grounds, and it was exactly as Raymonde had imagined it. The trees were thick with leaves, and they were just starting to fall, carpeting the ground in rich yellow. The path was crisp underfoot. Cutler’s arm was looped through hers and she could feel his voice, low and resonant, as she leaned against his side.
“I don’t want to think about what happened,” he said awkwardly. “But there is much to be done.”
She nodded. “Yes.” She had been thinking about it a great deal since she returned, and she had a plan to offer. “I think that we should follow Luke’s advice and have the letter checked – providing that it can be done discreetly,” she added carefully. “But, I have another plan, whereby we could trick your uncle into demonstrating his evil unquestionably.”
“You do?” Cutler turned to face her, his eyes wide and impressed. She flushed. “You are such a clever person…I sometimes wonder what you see in me.” He grinned.
“I don’t ever wonder,” she said firmly. “And even if I did, all I need to do is see that smile, and then I remember what it is.”
Cutler laughed and bent to kiss her, and she felt her body tingle as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, a familiar ache rising from her abdomen to her heart. She squeezed him and felt, for the first time, a sort of fearful premonition descended on her. She didn’t want to imagine any harm done to him.
“So,” he said nervously, his hand on her waist, “what is the plan?”
Raymonde swallowed hard. She had dreaded telling him, but she had to now. She cleared her throat. “Cutler, we need to trap him. More than that, we need to make him talk in front of a witness – to reveal his crime. Only that way can you find peace.”
Cutler nodded. “I agree,” he said. His face was white, and she knew how hard this was for him. That gentleman might well have murdered his father and his only guardian.
Raymonde took a steadying in-breath. This was the piece that she’d been dreading. “I think that I could lure him out into the open.”
“No,” Cutler said instantly. His voice was like ice. “No, Raymonde.” His hands tightened on her wrists, then he embraced her fiercely. “I will not risk you. Not again.”
Raymonde looked up into his eyes. She felt resigned now, and completely at peace. “I think there’s no alternative,” she said mildly.
“No,” Cutler stated flatly, and shook his head. “I cannot…”
“Mayhap we can plan it together,” Raymonde said reassuringly. “That way, we can make it as safe as possible.”
“Mayhap,” Cutler managed to say.
They hashed out a plan that suited them both, though, even after discussing it, Cutler shook his head unhappily.
“It’s too dangerous,” he insisted. His skin was snow-pale, contrasting sharply with the dark brown velvet of his day-coat. “I can’t agree to it.”
“Cutler,” Raymonde said gently, resting her hand on his arm. “Please. We have to.”
Cutler nodded, though he still looked distressed. “If you insist,” he said.
“I do.”
He looked into her eyes and pressed his lips to hers, passionately. Then he frowned. “There is another problem,” he said slowly. “I do not trust Hanford. Not even slightly. We will have to do something to ensure that he knows nothing.”
“I agree,” Raymonde admitted. “It would be nice if, additionally, we could uncover his innocence – or crimes.”
“Yes,” Cutler said meaningfully. “I agree.”
They talked a little longer about Hanford, and how they might modify the plan to catch him, too. Then they went inside together. Cutler turned to her as they crossed the upper hallway, heading to the parlor.
“We should write to Luke,” he reminded her. “I would like to send the letter to him, for his friend Purnell to identify.”
“Yes. That would be all the more evidence, if we could show it was your uncle’s creation.”
Cutler nodded briskly. He took her hand and walked with her into the parlor. “I will deliver it when I ride to Alford. Which reminds me,” he added with a grin. “I think we might just be able to solve the problem of the cottagers, and our own, with one stroke.”
“We could…oh!” Raymonde nodded, as his meaning became clear to her. If they could depose Luke’s uncle, then he would no longer be in charge of any of the estates. Which, she realized, with growing wonderment, meant that Cutler would.
“It only just occurred to me,” Cutler said with a wry expression, “that I know nothing about governing anything, much less an Earldom.”
“You’re an officer,” Raymonde said, squeezing his hand. “Moreover, you’re a kind man. Honest, fair, just. Generous of heart. I think you’ll be the very best Earl ever.”
He turned around and smiled at her and she was surprised to see tears glinting in his eyes. “Thank you, Raymonde,” he whispered.
They kissed. Around them, the leaves fell from the autumn trees, making a soft rustling sound. She held him in her arms and smelled the warmth of his skin and knew that she had never felt so happy. Even though they both faced grave danger.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Dangerous Measures
Cutler stood in the darkness of the hallway, his heart thudding in his chest. He half-wished that they hadn’t decided to start after dark. He was frightened, and he didn’t want to admit it. He had not realized until this moment how much his fear of his uncle had hidden inside him since he was a boy. His uncle was powerful, indestructible, a killer. How could he face him, and hope to protect Raymonde?
I couldn’t stop him from killing Father, or Lady Edmore, or from trying to kill me.
He felt his hands were starting to shake and he shut his eyes, willing himself to calm down. It didn’t help, which was something he should have expected. When he was in the army, it hadn’t helped, either.
“Cutler?”
He turned around and found himself facing Lady Raymonde. She was dressed in a black cloak, the hood falling back from her reddish hair. She took his wrist and drew him to face her.
“I’m ready,” he whispered. He made his voice stay level. He was terrified, and he had no idea if he cou
ld do any of this. But he had to try.
She walked with him up the stairs towards Hanford’s quarters.
Cutler stepped up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. Every step he took seemed stupidly loud, and his heart was thrumming in his chest by the time they reached the top, and hands were soaked with sweat. He stood outside Hanford’s room, knowing that the older man was in the study, eating his dinner.
Raymonde took his hand and he cleared his throat, ready to start on the pretense. She took up her position behind the door, and he spoke loudly.