“Yes, it is coming.” Adam had said The Peace of Aix-La-Chappelle had merely moved the conflict into another arena. Now the countries of Europe were metaphorically shifting from foot to foot, waiting for it all to start up again.
“Forgive us.” Stuart turned a smile on, aiming it at Matilda and Delphi. “You must be bored with this talk. If you would prefer to return to the presence chamber, I will have someone escort you.”
After all, they were mere women, his smile seemed to say.
“Not at all,” Matilda said sharply. “I am used to discussing such matters with my husband.”
Adam put his hand on top of Delphi’s as if preventing her from moving. “I rely on my wife’s good judgment.” She appreciated the touch, his warmth. The day suddenly felt chilly.
Stuart lost the smile. Truly, it was as if he switched if on and off again, like a tinder sparking fire on a rag, and the flame disappearing in a puff of air. “I see. I cannot approve of women becoming involved in the affairs of state.”
Delphi bit her tongue before she gave him the reply he deserved. She didn’t need the warning squeeze Adam gave her hand.
“I expect to hear no more of this matter until it is concluded.” Stuart got to his feet, so they had to follow suit. “I am not interested in foolish conspiracies. But if you discover one of my court is involved, I wish to be informed. If I can give you aid, then you must let me know. If I come across information, I will let you or your agent know. Let that be an end to it.”
And that was the end of their audience with the man who would never be king.
They sent one carriage back, and piled into the other.
Trensom let out a long sigh of relief. “I want to go home to England,” he said simply. “My brief is to stop this conspiracy. When that is done, my duties here are over.”
“Rome is interesting,” Matilda said, “but I miss my home.”
Her husband gave a smile much warmer than any he’d given to The Old Pretender. “We will go as soon as we can.”
Trensom and Adam sat together with their backs to the horses, while Matilda and Delphi occupied the seats opposite. By mutual agreement, they had not lingered, but left as quickly as they could get the horses put to the carriage.
Matilda glanced out of the window. “The nights are beginning to draw in.”
Indeed, the sun was dipping towards the horizon. “If we don’t find the ringleaders soon, we’ll be stuck here for the winter,” Adam observed. September was running towards October at a rather alarming rate. They had a month before the weather began to worsen. Another month before the journey would become almost impassable. Few people traveled in the winter, even here.
“My yacht is moored at the coast,” Adam murmured. “I don’t intend to attempt the passage across the Alps. You’re welcome to take advantage of it, as long as we are also on board.”
Trensom grunted. “Very well. Thank you.”
They had arrived by sea, after traveling overland to the French coast, but Trensom had hired the vessel, rather than bringing his own.
“You took us to Greenwich on your barge,” Delphi murmured.
He took her hand. “Yes, I did.”
He said no more, but Delphi thought back to that day, and that journey down the river. That was when her fascination with Adam had really started.
“A gracious vessel.” Matilda had acted as chaperone that day. She had watched as the triplets had paired off with the men as if naturally guided to do so.
Sitting up, Adam rapped on the roof of the carriage, a signal to the coachman to stop. They were passing the top of the Spanish Steps but, at his signal, the driver pulled the horses to a stop.
“You will forgive us,” Adam said, “but we cannot attend your dinner tonight. Come, Wife.”
Trensom growled low in his throat but, from experience, Delphi interpreted it as a stifled laugh.
Heat rushed over her, to the roots of her hair, but she allowed Adam to help her out of the carriage. He did not release her, but stepped back to watch the carriage continue on its journey to take Trensom and Matilda home.
He drew her to the stairs and they descended slowly. “What did you think of him?”
“Who?” She took a moment to gather her senses. “Oh, The Old Pretender?”
“Yes, him.” His quirked smile warmed her.
“He seems wise, but then so do many others who are truly foolish. He’s not as healthy as he lets people think, forces himself to stand upright and walks slowly. I think he listens to his own counsel too much.”
His brows went up. “Tell me more.”
“He brought two advisors in with him. They were not servants, or footmen, though they were happy to act as such. He did not ask them one question, or consult with them. If he didn’t want their opinion, why ask them in unless he wanted to demonstrate how wonderful he was?”
“You’re right, of course. I begin to see what I have in you, Delphi.”
She shrugged. “I keep up with current affairs. While the Stuarts are never taking the throne again, they still have significant influence, like an irritating stone in one’s shoe. This whole, overblown court amounts to that irritant, but it means they still have a place in the world.”
They went down four of the steps in silence. People out to take the air and show themselves off passed them, but they took no notice. “You’re right. The Stuarts come in two types; the clever but cynical ones and the foolish, idealistic ones. The one you just met is of the former kind, but like all the Stuarts, he has his blind spots. While he knows he won’t be king, he continues to believe he is so. As if anyone can own a throne or a country, merely by power of birth.”
“You’re a duke by birth.”
He shrugged. “But without hard work, I’d be a penniless one, the title worthless.”
“You have good people to help you?”
“Yes. Apart from Heath, who travels with me, I’ve built an excellent staff over the last ten years. Lawyers, political allies, estate managers, bankers. And all of them owe their loyalty to me, not to my ancestors.”
He had done so much, she marveled, since his father had all but ruined the family.
People went up the stairs as they went down, but nobody came within hearing distance. As far as Delphi was concerned, she and her new husband were the only people here. Nobody else mattered.
He smiled. “I wanted to talk this over with you before we got home so that we didn’t feel obliged to talk about it there.”
While she had his attention, she might as well finish. “I understand why Stuart finds the comfortable world he’s created for himself too good to leave. He doesn’t want it disrupted by conspiracies and plots. Being a canny individual, he’s not above using them to further his cause.”
“Indeed not. And I believe him. Do you?”
She nodded. “He gave you that brooch to ensure he could hold you.”
“Yes, he did. He’s a wily, old soul. And he wasted our time.” He touched one finger to her lips. “We have other business today.”
She was only too aware of that. “Yes, but I should take another look at that note. I have an idea…”
“Not today,” he said firmly. Since they had reached the bottom door of the house, he drew his key out of his pocket. “Today, we have other things to do.”
He opened the door and took her inside.
Chapter Eighteen
“We could behave like civilized human beings,” he said as he guided her up the narrow staircase to the main floor. She swallowed. She could think of nothing to say, as tension gripped her stomach. But she heard the same tightness in his voice, too.
Glad she hadn’t eaten dinner after all, she wordlessly followed his guidance. He took her up to the bedroom floor, up from the drawing room, and again to the next floor. They saw nobody. Heath knew they were coming.
Embarrassment crawled over her skin. People, the servants, Matilda and Trensom would know.
Adam drew his hand over her bare lower
arm. “There’s only us,” he murmured. He stood a step below her, making them the same height. “Only we matter tonight. Me and you, Adam and Delphi.”
The soft words penetrated to where she was in danger of locking herself away. In times of stress she shut down, locked her emotions inside. It sometimes happened without thought. But this time, she left the door open.
She would not block him off. It took courage to do that, more than she had imagined, but she would do it. For Adam.
“I don’t know what to do,” she confessed.
“You will,” he promised. “Let me in, Delphi.”
The clock chimed. She counted. Six o’clock. They gazed at each other the whole time.
He stepped up and opened the door for her, bowing her inside with a courtly gesture.
His room. Bigger than hers, but just as beautifully appointed. The modern, canopied bed stood opposite a broad window that looked out over the city but, miraculously, was not overlooked. Dark green velvet drapes hung at the headboard, but this was a modern canopy bed, not a four-poster, so nothing impeded her view.
He went to the tinderbox on the mantelpiece and struck a light, kindling a long wax taper. Then he went around the room and lit the candles set in the brackets on the walls, the branch of candles on the dressing table and the other branch on a table by the bed. He lit every single candle before he blew out the taper, then set it neatly back with the tinderbox.
She turned to him, a sudden wave of emotion swamping her. “My husband.” Saying the word she’d found so difficult earlier came naturally now.
“My wife.” He took the single step that separated them and slid his arms around her.
When he drew her closer, she went willingly, going up on tiptoe as he lowered his head.
They kissed, their first as husband and wife. Delphi found easy what she had thought daunting a few minutes before, allowing someone so intimately close.
When she had considered procreation, it had been in terms of making heirs, doing one’s duty. Not this passion that surged within her, or this longing to feel her skin next to his, unimpeded by layers of silk and linen.
He released her without breaking the kiss. The slide of fabric and a soft thump told her he had discarded his heavy coat. The softness of fine linen grazed her skin when he slid his hand up to remove the first hairpin and pull off her tiny lace cap.
He kissed down her neck, his hands busy unpinning her hair. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to see your hair down?”
In an age when every woman wore her hair up, neatly pinned into place, loose hair seemed utterly decadent. It undressed Delphi just as much as if she’d stripped bare before him.
When he’d done with the pins, he lifted his head and studied her, running the fingers of one hand through her hair. “Silky.” His voice was deeply pitched, slightly husky.
He glanced to the side and dumped the handful of pins in a small glass dish on his dressing table. “Any more pins?”
Wordlessly, she nodded and pulled one out of her bodice, where her gown was secured to her stomacher. Brushing her hands aside, he took over the task, removing each long pin and sending it to join the others in the dish. One by one, undoing her. Once he’d done that, he pushed her gown down her arms.
Like his coat, it fell to the floor, disregarded. Delphi could almost hear Rossi’s tsk of annoyance. But she wasn’t here.
Her stomacher followed, the pretty bows fluttering to the floor. Delphi stood in the center of a sea of discarded blue silk. Beneath the gown, she wore two petticoats and a small, light hoop. He found the tape that fastened her pockets around her waist, and made short work of them, dumping them on the chair before the dressing table. He paused when something in her pocket bumped the chair arm.
“My spectacles,” she explained.
“Ah. You won’t be needing those tonight.”
The fire in his eyes when he looked at her ignited a response in her. Yes, fire. She burned for him. But when she would have speeded the process, he took her hands and placed them on his waistcoat. “Make yourself busy, madam wife.”
He loosened, unfastened and generally made himself equally busy with her while she unfastened the long line of carved steel buttons. They winked when they caught the light of the sun, now racing towards the horizon. The buildings outside, ancient and modern, dreamed in the sunshine while Delphi learned how a man was unfastened and unbuttoned. So busy was she about her work, so concentrated on unwinding his neckcloth and discovering the strings beneath that tied his shirt opening. Then she had to work the linked cut steel buttons at his cuffs before she could tug the shirt over his head and away.
Her gasp echoed around the quiet room.
He chuckled, low in his throat, a mingled sound of desire and amusement. “I trust that’s an expression of deep admiration. You’ll have to get used to seeing this chest rather often. Are you brave enough for the breeches, or should I manage them myself?”
“Oh.” She bit her lip.
“Then stand just there. Exactly where you are.”
With a swift movement, he had her remaining garment, her shift, up and over her head and she stood there in nothing but her shoes and stockings.
She squeaked, but he only stood there and looked at her. Embarrassment turned to desire, so seamlessly she didn’t know where one ended and the other began.
“I am such a lucky man. You are lovely, Delphi, all my dreams in one place.”
He bent, unfastened the buckles at his knees, and flicked open the buttons on the fall of his breeches. After kicking off his shoes, he pulled the breeches off, taking care lifting the fabric over his manhood. She wasn’t sure why until he stood. For the first time in her life, she saw a fully erect man in the full throes of desire.
She swallowed. Before this, the only knowledge of naked male bodies had been the statues she’d studied, and the naked beggars and drunks in the street.
“I didn’t know…”
“Used to the tiny pricks on antique statues?” With a short laugh, he stepped forward, coming back to her. “You know the ancient Romans considered a large cock a sign of lack of intelligence? One or the other, but not both. How sad.”
Delphi nodded. “I thought men were all made that way.”
“Some are. Some have a very different change in size from normal to erect.” His voice softened. “It means I desire you very much. The sight of you inflames me. I will endeavor to be gentle, but Delphi, you make that task difficult. You are lovely, sweetheart.”
He touched her.
Adam stroked up her naked body from waist to breasts, where he paused, cupping their weight. Studying the effect he had when he brushed his thumbs over her dusky pink nipples.
She sucked in a sharp breath, sensation shooting through her, a thrill of response.
“That’s good,” he murmured. “I love that you are so sensitive. Come.”
Taking her hand, he led her to the bed and threw back the covers.
With a doubtful glance at him, Delphi bent and shed her shoes before sitting on the edge of the bed, one foot on the wooden step. He untied her garters, his fingers stroking her bare skin as he helped her remove her last garments.
“Don’t hide that body from me,” he murmured. “You give me a great deal of pleasure.”
“Already?”
“Yes, already.” That warm smile she loved appeared. “So much beauty, and it’s all mine.” He touched her shoulder, so gently she barely felt it. “Your skin is wonderful to the touch. Your trust humbles me.”
Nobody had admired her looks before, at least, not to her knowledge. Not to her face. His sincerity made it impossible for her to deny it. Whatever she was, he wanted it.
“I d-desire you, too,” she managed to say. “But I don’t know what to do or how to do it.”
“You do. It’s all locked up inside you. You only need to set it free. Be assured that whatever happens, or doesn’t happen, it stays between us.”
His words reassured her. She kn
ew, but she’d needed it said aloud. Then she felt better. The awkwardness dissipated, and passion burst through as if thinking too much had held it back. “Yes.”
That was all she said, all she could say. That warm smile still on his lips, he moved forward, urging her back. “Do what you want. Touch me where you like.”
He came on top of her, his gaze roaming over her.
“But touch me somewhere.” His voice had turned ragged. “Please.”
When she lifted her hand and cupped it around his smooth, muscular shoulder, he let out a deep sigh. “Oh, yes. That feels so good.”
Encouraged by his response, she moved it, slid her other arm around his waist as he bent his head to kiss her.
She knew how to kiss. Just like he said he wanted, skin to skin, nothing between them. Now she wanted it, too, longed for more. Holding him was no longer enough. She wanted to explore.
He finished the kiss, and leaned up, staring at her, still smiling. But this time, his lips seemed fuller, redder. She caressed the curve of his shoulder, savoring the warmth of him, and moved it, flattening her palm against his chest. The light sprinkling of hair was light brown. The hair on his head gleamed blond, the light dancing over it. But that didn’t make him look angelic. The desire in his blue eyes was fierce for her, and she wanted more of it.
“Don’t look at me like that.” With a groan, he came back to kiss her again. He licked into her mouth, and she opened for him, savoring his taste, his possession.
After a series of heavy, drugging kisses, he moved back down to her breasts, anointing them as before, caressing and kissing, sucking and licking.
So wonderful. So carnal.
Her fingers tangled in the smooth silk of his hair, down until she located the ribbon holding it back. The softness of velvet met her fingers as she located the end and tugged, loosening the bow and tugging it free. His hair fell over his powerful shoulders, muscles flexing. He didn’t stop. He caressed and kissed around one breast, then the other, as he slipped his hand between her thighs. “Open for me, my love,” he murmured.
Delphi did not need his urging. She slid her legs either side of his body, lifted her knees to give him better access.
A Whisper of Treason Page 20