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Lessons of Desire

Page 30

by Madeline Hunter


  It would cause a sensation, that was certain. Drury had an eye for the foibles of his fellow men. The observations in that book were incisive, clever, and too revealing.

  He should write to Phaedra and congratulate her on the success of her publication. He should write about other things too. No, he would visit her.

  A footman entered the room. “Sir, a woman has called.”

  Elliot gave him a tenth of his mind. “Take her to my aunt. I am not at home to visitors today.”

  “She was very explicit that she does not desire to visit with your aunt, but with you.”

  Elliot’s full attention settled on the footman. “Her card?”

  “No card, sir. I tried to put her off, but she was most insistent.” He made a face. “She is dressed very oddly. She looks a bit like one of those reformers. Or, actually, more like a…a…”

  “A witch?”

  “Yes, sir. How did you know?”

  He felt himself smiling. “Bring her here.”

  Elliot turned back to the windows, but he saw nothing in the garden now. He pictured Phaedra walking toward this room, her black habit flowing around her, her hair streaming freely.

  She had come to him before he could go to her. He did not know her reasons for coming, nor did they matter. He closed his eyes and felt her presence in the house. He listened for the tap of her steps, astonished by the joy branching through him.

  The footman left her inside the door of the morning room. Another person was already there.

  A man stood by the window with his back to her. A man handsome enough to leave a woman speechless. A man confident enough to imply a right to an arrogance that he chose not to indulge. Bello. Elegante.

  He turned. She saw the warmth in his smile and eyes and exhaled her relief.

  “Phaedra. I am glad you are here. I was going to come to you. We might have passed on the street and not realized it.”

  She had not known what to expect. His welcome heartened her. His effect had not dulled one whit in the month apart. She found herself breathless.

  Elliot invited her to sit at the breakfast table. He took the chair at an angle to hers.

  She found her voice. She placed her package on the table. “I brought you a copy of my father’s book.”

  “Thank you, but I have already read it.” He pointed to the pages at the other end of the table.

  She inhaled deeply to control her composure. And to absorb his presence and scent and reality. Seeing him here seemed too much like the dreams that had filled her head on so many nights. Only in those dreams he swept her into his arms and they tumbled into bed and—

  There was a distance to him even if he was close enough to touch. His composure indicated that he had made good progress on ending whatever spell they had experienced together.

  That disappointed her horribly. Her heart physically burned. But what did she expect?

  He tapped the top of her package. “You have a success on your hands, Phaedra.”

  She wanted to press her lips to his hand. It had been a month. Forever. Her heart cried and laughed all at once.

  “I noticed there was no mention of Chalgrove,” he said.

  “He convinced me that my father had exaggerated that part. He was the only person who so argued to my conviction.”

  He nodded. “You did some annotating when it came to your mother, however.”

  “Do you hate me for it? I know what he means to you.”

  “It is best if no one else is hoodwinked. I suspect those statues and cameos are still making their way to England. He probably found that ring of forgers when he visited after the war. The items he brought back sold easily, so he decided to move there and make it his life.” He smiled ruefully. “I offered to become a party to his fraud myself, with that new statue he had.”

  “He did not accept the offer, Elliot. He did not allow you to be tainted with it.” Matthias had allowed others to be tainted, however. He had misused Artemis badly, the one time she had allowed herself to fall romantically and irredeemably in love.

  “Actually, I received a letter from him last week,” Elliot said. “He must have written it soon after we left Positano. Among other things, he expressed an interest in having me find a home for the little goddess after all.”

  “I am sorry to hear that, Elliot. I had hoped he had scruples at least where you were concerned.”

  “Apparently not.”

  She pictured young Nigel Thornton longing in silence while the woman he loved was conquered by Matthias Greenwood. Thornton may have seen the cameo in Artemis’s possession, but she had not received it from him.

  “I might have never learned it was Matthias and not Thornton if you had not sent Chalgrove to me and ensured I would meet with him, Elliot.”

  His acknowledgment was a sad smile. “I wrote at once and warned Matthias that you knew. That it would all come out.”

  “So did I.” For Elliot, she had done it. Not for Matthias.

  He laughed quietly at that. “Well, he can leave Italy before your accusations in these memoirs make their way there.”

  “He may have company as he flees. I suspect Whitmarsh is involved. He would know that little bronze that Matthias showed us was cast wrong for an antique work. He pretended ignorance. Mr. Sansoni told me the forgeries are made in the hill towns down south. I think that was what Whitmarsh was doing on those morning hikes. Visiting the workshops. I am only sorry that Tarpetta will not need to flee too. I believe that he took bribes from Matthias to look the other way.”

  “If he did, Carmelita Messina will make sure all of Positano knows.” Admiration showed in his eyes. “You have worked it all out, haven’t you? Do you feel that you have avenged her now? Are you more content in your last memories of her?”

  Was she? All of her memories of Artemis had changed in recent weeks. It was as if she had finally shed the last parts of her childhood and seen her mother more honestly.

  She still revered her. She still respected her. But she no longer felt an obligation to defend her for her errors in judgment. And like any person, Artemis had made some.

  “I am more at peace about all of it, Elliot.”

  His hand closed over hers. “You annotated some parts, but you removed some others, darling.”

  She looked at that hand on hers. Darker, stronger, and so very masculine. She loved his hands. Everything about them. She especially loved the way they felt on her, with their firm but gentle holds and caresses. A woman could learn a lot about a man from his hands.

  “Why did you not tell me that you were removing that passage about the Cape Colony death, Phaedra?”

  “I decided very late, Elliot. The typesetters were well into the book.” She described her impulsive run to the printer with her last-minute demand to make one more change. “I kept hoping you would bring me evidence that it was not true. The smallest shred would have been enough. Even with the way you left the last time I saw you, I was sure you would still try to learn the truth.”

  The proof had not come. Nor had he. She had been left to decide on her own, with no excuse or rationalization except the one that her heart gave her.

  He gazed at her hand while he smoothed his thumb over its back. The subtle caress sent shivers up her arm. “I had no evidence to give you, Phaedra. I met the man. I sought him out even before I saw you at Alexia’s house. I asked him about it. It is a hell of a thing, asking a man if your father paid him to kill someone.”

  “Did he deny it?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why not tell me, Elliot? I would have been relieved to have any reason at all to—”

  “I did not believe him, Phaedra.”

  She did not know what to say to that. One word was all she would have needed. Just one, even if that man had lied. Elliot had decided he would not use the lie that way, however. He had been honest with her. More honest than she required.

  “It might be best to decide that you do believe him, Elliot.”

&n
bsp; “I cannot lie to myself that much. Not anymore. However, I am understanding my brother Christian better. I am concluding that I do not want to know for certain. Soon I may agree with Hayden, and realize I do not even care what the truth is.”

  “Hayden’s view is a good one. If it happened it was his sin and his choice, not his sons’.”

  “Blood is blood, and it stains indelibly.” He shrugged aside the ambiguities, as if he did not want to contemplate them anymore. “Christian offered five thousand if you removed those pages. You should take it now. It would help stabilize your press.”

  Five thousand pounds. It would wipe out the debts and leave the business on sound footing. She wondered if Easterbrook had investigated just how much she needed before he had Elliot offer the bribe.

  “I will not say that I am not tempted, Elliot.” She was so tempted that she grimaced at what she was about to do. “I did not do it for money, however, and I will not take it.”

  “Then why did you do it?”

  She swallowed hard. “I did it because Merriweather’s suspicions could be wrong. I did it because of Alexia’s friendship.” A fine burn stung her throat. “Mostly I did it because of you, Elliot. When I stood at the point of no return, it suddenly seemed a small compromise of my duty to my father.”

  She thought for a moment that he would kiss her. The impulse was in his eyes.

  “I thank you with all my heart, Phaedra. You showed more generosity than I deserve. Your decision spared innocents the glare of scandal and my parents’ names the worst whispers.”

  “I am content with my choice, Elliot. I made the right one, I am sure.”

  He looked around the morning room, at the windows and table.

  He took her hand again. “Come with me. We need to talk, and the library will be more comfortable.”

  He sat beside her on the library sofa. Close enough to touch. She tried to compose her thoughts. They did need to talk, but now that it was time all of her rehearsed lines escaped her.

  He did not look at her for a long while. He did not speak. When he again turned his face her way, however, his gaze was finally that of a lover long absent.

  Immediately he stirred her in all the ways he ever had, only now the regrets and longings of a month intensified every sensation and emotion.

  “It is hell to see you and not kiss you, Phaedra.”

  “I have not said that you can’t kiss me.”

  His expression firmed. “As long as your petition stands, I cannot. That has not changed. Nor have my intentions.”

  “Would you like me to leave, Elliot? Seeing you has brought the sun back into my life, but I do not want to anger you.”

  “I am not angry. I am glad that you are here, but I am more tempted than I expected to make quick work of your plans.”

  She wished he would lock the door and embrace her and do his worst. Instead he stood and paced away, scowling. He turned and crossed his arms.

  She would have to tell him not to do that anymore.

  “I have spent a month hammering away at those chains, Phaedra. To no avail. What must I say or do to convince you that we belong together?”

  “Whatever you want to say, Elliot. I came here to listen. I came here to be convinced, if you still want me that way.”

  He strode over and pulled her up, into his arms. Finally, the embrace that she craved. At last the connection and reassurance that her heart sorely needed.

  “I am no Richard Drury but I am not my father either. If you are afraid I might become like him, do not be.” He spoke with determination, as if he had made a choice and now swore an oath.

  “Every man has it in him, Elliot, but I do not fear that. If ever a man imprisoned me or bound me against my will, I would break free. However, you know this is not about your character. It was not you that I rejected.”

  “I know why you do not believe in marriage. I understand that. I will not expect you to be other than you are. I fell in love with Phaedra Blair and I will not want you to change. I will not ask it and I certainly will not demand it.” He glanced down at her bodice. “I do not care if you continue to wear your black habits. You can keep your press.” He paused, then shrugged. “I will not interfere with your odd friends, so long as the men do not want more.”

  She laid her palm against his face. The connection felt so good and right. “It does not matter if they want more. I never will. I told you that you do not need marriage for that.”

  He sighed audibly. Whether it was in relief at her touch or frustration at her resistance, she did not know.

  “I want this marriage, Phaedra. I need it to know you are mine. I love you even more than I desire you. I want you with me always. I want to return to a home where you live. Do you never dream of such things too?”

  He kissed her gently. The first kiss in too many weeks. It went to her head like too much wine.

  His words touched her heart. Not only the declarations of love, although that moved her to the point of tears. He had been most honorable with her. He had agreed to this petition even if he did not want it. He had not pressed his advantage in the past because of those vows, and she knew that he would not in the future either.

  He had been fair and honest. He had made his choices out of love. Selfless choices. So many…

  “It is good to know that you still want the marriage to stand, Elliot, because there is a good chance that my petition will not be successful. There may have been another untoward development.”

  “Then retreat from this, love. Do not subject yourself to it if your lawyer sees small chance of success. I promise that you will never regret—” He cocked his head and frowned. “What development?”

  “My lawyer said that my petition certainly would not receive a successful judgment if there were any issue.”

  “There are many issues, so—” His frown deepened. Then it disappeared. “Do you mean issue from the marriage, as in children?”

  She nodded.

  “Is there? Will there be? Are you—”

  “I am not certain yet. However, it appears that is a possibility.”

  “How possible?”

  “More possible with every day. It has complicated many things, of course.”

  “And you did not tell me? Never mind. I do not care about that. Phaedra, this is one reason I said we could not do it your way. A child deserves better and sooner or later you would get with child. This complicates nothing. It simplifies everything.”

  His acceptance heartened her, but his judgment did not. “I did not have better and I did fine, Elliot. I am the woman I am because of how my mother educated me. Richard was still a father to me. Nor does a court’s rejection mean that we must live together.”

  “Of course we will live together. We will find a house at once. I’ll be damned if I am going to make morning calls on my own wife. You must give this up now. You surely see that you must.”

  Yes, she must. She saw it. She had seen it even before she recognized the signs that said she might be with child. Nor did the notion horrify her. In truth a giggle of happiness bubbled inside her when she thought of a home and a family with Elliot. A fear that she had destroyed the chance to make it a happy marriage had preyed on her.

  It was not stubbornness or blind adherence to a belief that caused this last rebellion against accepting this accidental marriage. It was not even because she anticipated the world seeing her as defeated, or Elliot as entrapped.

  The emotion making her heart race came from astonishment and wonder and surprise. Desire had opened her heart to love, then love had carried her further than she ever knew it was possible for a heart to go. Now she balanced on the very edge of her world.

  The next step would leave her walking on nothing but the air of hope and trust and love. Here she was, Phaedra Blair, daughter of the famous Artemis, a woman who like her mother forged her own destiny, cowering like a child in front of a vast unknown.

  It thrilled her. It also frightened her witless.

&nb
sp; He sensed it. She could tell that he understood and sympathized.

  “You are strong, Phaedra. Strong and proud and I love you for it. But what if our child is not strong like you? What if she feels the wounds when she is denied friends and hears the taunts that call her a bastard?” He held her head with both his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “You overcame all that, but not every soul can. And you will be happy, Phaedra. I will make sure you are, no matter what that takes, because I love you more than I do my own pride.”

  She looked up at him. She had never seen so deeply into a person’s eyes as she did this man’s. She had never been so certain that she saw the truth of a person’s heart. I do know. It is one of the few things in life of which I am completely sure.

  Yes, dear Alexia, my wise friend. One does know.

  She touched his hand and pressed it closer to her cheek. “I agree, Elliot. It is how it should be. I am fortunate and relieved that you still welcome this. I believe that you love me enough for us to be happy. I trust you and I know that I love you enough for this friendship to last a lifetime.”

  For the child she would do it. For him too. Mostly, however, she would do it for herself, for the chance to love and be loved and to dwell in their bond of intimacy. She would do it so she could hold on to the one good thing of which she was certain.

  Nor would she be alone out there while she walked on air. Elliot would be with her, helping her find her footing.

  She did not say another word but he knew all the thoughts in her heart. His eyes said he did. So did the kiss that he gave her.

  And if there was a tiny glint of triumph in his tender, warm look of joy, and a caress of possession along with the kiss, she did not mind.

  He was a man, after all.

  She felt her dress loosening. He laid her down on the sofa so their embrace was complete. It would be hard and fast this time. She was glad. They had been apart too long and her impatience matched his.

  She held him close to her as pleasure and love carried her to their private world. She breathed his breath and groaned when he filled her. She cried out her love while their fever reached its zenith.

 

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