by Amelia Grey
A soft moan of pleasure wafted past his ear, and Daniel became more desperate to plunge inside her. He couldn’t believe how she came alive under his touch, how much she enjoyed how he could make her feel. When he touched her he was powerless to bank the fires she’d started inside him.
They kissed and caressed over and over again, enjoying the taste, the feel of each other, relishing this time together. Daniel let his hands leave her backside and move to fondle and softly squeeze her breasts while his thumb skimmed the nipples, pushing him further and further over the edge.
He kissed her forehead, her eyes, and her lips with wild abandonment. All thought of where they were and who she was left his mind. He wanted her. Nothing else mattered.
He dragged his lips away from hers and frantically searched around him for a place to lie down so he could enter her and ease the hard excruciating ache in his loins. He saw nothing but the cold stone floor and the damp, leafy herb garden.
Through the fog of sensual desire, Daniel looked at his options, and then he took a deep aching breath and came to his senses.
Oh, bloody hell.
What was he doing? He couldn’t treat Isabella this way. She wasn’t a trollop to be taken in the kitchen garden.
His breathing labored, he pulled her tightly to his chest and whispered, “Isabella,” softly, reverently.
Isabella cupped her hands to his buttocks, pressing him to her. “Oh, please don’t stop, Daniel. You are making me feel so wonderful.”
“I know and you don’t know how much that pleases me.”
“Then why stop?”
“No, Isabella, listen to me. We must. I am not going to finish this here in the garden where servants or any of the guests can stumble upon us. I can’t do it.”
“Why?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and rested his cheek against the top of her head while he calmed down from the heat, the exhilaration, the out-of-control passion that she ignited in him.
Damn his need for her that stole all his chivalry. Damn the weakness she created inside him.
He set her away from him. The look in her eyes, the expression on her face told him she didn’t understand. He had to see that she did.
“Why? Because the only way I can finish what I’ve started is to back you against the wall and lift your skirts like you were a common harlot on the street. Do you want that?”
Her eyes rounded in shock.
Daniel didn’t like talking to her that way, but he had to make her understand the gravity of what they had been doing.
“No. I didn’t realize what would come next.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“You were making me feel so wonderful, I didn’t want it to stop.”
“And I didn’t, either.”
He couldn’t look at her. Instead he focused on her clothing and started rebuttoning her lace-trimmed shift. His fingers felt stiff and swollen as if he had all thumbs.
“I’ll do it,” she said and turned her back on him to finish arranging her clothing.
“We seem to have fallen into a dangerous pattern of being far too intimate.”
“Yes, I think I now understand that some rules shouldn’t be broken.”
“That’s right. We must stop this, Isabella, and stick to solving Throckmorten’s murder. If I try to kiss you again, you should slap me.”
She turned back to face him with a gasp on her lips. “That’s what Auntie Pith told me to do if you should try to kiss me.”
“She’s obviously a wise woman. You should listen to her.”
“I couldn’t slap you for something I wanted, Daniel.”
Except for her lips she didn’t look as if they’d been so passionate. A bit of the lace from her corset was showing, and he tucked it inside her dress.
“You must. Isabella, we can’t keep searching for dark corners to have a liaison. I need your help with this. If not we could end up ruining both our lives.”
He saw that she took a deep breath and pondered what he’d said.
“No matter what you say to the contrary, I know you will marry someday. A passionate woman like you should be married.”
“And of course, you are looking for a proper wife who can be your countess and give you children and nothing else. No love.”
It seemed so hollow when she said it like that.
“No passion,” she said.
No passion?
Yes, of course he wanted passion if he could find a wife who wanted it. Most titled men preferred that passion come from their mistresses, not their wives. That’s not what Daniel wanted.
“I think I understand now, Daniel,” she said. “I shall rebuff you should you desire to kiss me again.”
Oh, I desire it all right.
“Yes, that is what you must do. And, Isabella, it would help if you gave me the handkerchief so that we would not need to see each other again.”
“No, my lord. I couldn’t do that. If you insist, I will give up my meetings alone with you, but I will not give up the intrigue.”
“All right. I’ll go inside first and make sure there’s no one about to see you return.”
Daniel retreated into the house feeling like the lowest scoundrel. He had been no gentleman. Isabella was not the kind of woman he expected to be drawn to. She was too open-minded. He needed a woman who would obey him and be a proper countess, not a woman who wanted to chase after a murderer.
Daniel opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. As the light from the oil lamp struck him, so did another light dawn on him.
He’d made one hell of a mistake. He was falling in love with Isabella.
Seventeen
Maybe the most astonishing news is that Lord Colebrooke seems to have eyes for no young lady other than Miss Isabella Winslowe. The two of them seemed to take an unusually long time over the buffet table at a soiree last night. Rumor has it that if they had spent any longer in the refreshment room they would have had to apply for a special license to wed!
—Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column
Daniel laid the tittle-tattle sheet aside and picked up his cup of tea. “Rubbish. All of it.”
“For sure?” Chilton asked, looking at him from across the large dining room table as they lingered over their morning meal. “You looked rather smitten by Miss Winslowe when I saw you with her in the refreshment room last night.”
Chilton was handsomely and expertly dressed for the day in a loden green jacket and gold striped waistcoat while Daniel had remained more relaxed with his collar and neckcloth loose. He saw no need to finish his dressing until just before he planned to go out.
Daniel pushed aside the remains of his eggs, cheese, and toast. “Not you, too. Miss Winslowe and I would never suit. She’s too—” Daniel stopped abruptly.
Why wouldn’t they suit? The lady was headstrong, but he didn’t mind that. Her free thinking and adventurous attitude didn’t bother him, either, but those weren’t the things an earl needed in a wife. He needed a woman who wanted to make a home and have children. Isabella wanted her Wallflowers Society, intrigue, and mischief.
“Too what?” Chilton asked.
Daniel picked up his cup and sipped his coffee. “Too perplexing,” he finally said. And she was.
“Perplexing? Is that the best you can come up with? Damnation, Danny, every woman is perplexing. Name me one who isn’t.”
No, not like Isabella. He could also add that she was intelligent and capable and not easily frightened, but he didn’t want to share that with his friend.
Daniel glanced over his cup at Chilton’s stricken features and chuckled.
“Perhaps I meant to say I need a wife who will be submissive and obedient, and those are two things Miss Winslowe will never be.”
“You think this because she wouldn’t relinquish her handkerchief to you?”
Daniel remembered how clever Isabella had been concerning the handkerchief, but he had to be careful. Thoughts of last night would lead him
to remember how delicious she felt in his arms, and he had to forget those things about her.
“Just take my word for it that she would not make me a good wife, and leave it at that.”
“Ah, yes, I guess an earl would need a wife to be submissive to him. Well, if you want a wife like that, there are plenty to choose from.”
Somehow a wife like that didn’t sound so appealing when Chilton said it.
“Who else have you pursued?” his friend asked.
“No one, but I plan to remedy that starting today. I will take Lady Katherine Spearmont riding in the park this afternoon and escort Miss Alice Eldridge tomorrow afternoon. And I have decided to dance with at least a dozen different ladies tonight.”
“Will Miss Winslowe understand that?”
“Yes, she and I have a perfect understanding of each other.”
“That’s a rather bold statement.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t believe it to be true. I’m turning my attention to finding a husband for Gretchen, myself a wife, and I want to get better acquainted with other titled gentlemen in Town.”
“That is after all why you returned to London, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“It appears you’ve settled into the house here in St. James without any trouble.”
“All has gone well. I prefer the house in Mayfair, but this house is big enough.”
“How is Gretchen?”
“Good. Thomas Wright is calling on her today, and I’m hoping that she will decide that he will make her an excellent husband.”
Daniel watched Chilton closely. It seemed a bit far-fetched, but Daniel couldn’t help but wonder if Gretchen was the lady Isabella said Chilton watched but never approached. His friend’s expression didn’t change, giving no indication he harbored any unrequited feelings for Gretchen.
Perhaps he should just come clean and ask Chilton what he was doing in Throckmorten’s house. They had been close friends for years, but Daniel was hesitant to pry into Chilton’s private affairs.
Daniel sipped his coffee again. “How long have we been friends now, Chilton, fifteen years?”
“Longer.”
“Have you ever lied to me?”
Chilton’s eyes narrowed as he popped a piece of toast into his mouth and chewed.
Finally he answered. “Probably. Yes. But what kind of question is that to ask your best friend?”
“I need the truth from you about something important, Chilton.”
Chilton cleared his throat and pushed his empty plate aside. “This sounds serious.”
“It is.”
“Then ask me.”
“Why were you visiting Throckmorten the day before his death?”
Chilton’s eyes widened. “You saw me leave his house, didn’t you?”
“No, but your card was there.” Daniel didn’t want to say he’d seen the card when he hadn’t.
“So you were there, too.”
“Yes.”
Chilton remained cautious. “When we were riding, I asked if you had seen him and you said no.”
“I didn’t,” Daniel said. “He wasn’t home when I got there. Your card was lying in a crystal dish along with a few others.”
Chilton shifted uncomfortably in his chair and then wiped his mouth with his napkin. “All right, so I went to see him, too. He wasn’t home when I got there, either. His man didn’t know when he would return.”
“Why did you visit him?”
“You ask a lot, my friend.”
“I really need to know.”
“Why?” Chilton asked.
“It has to do with Gretchen.”
Chilton’s eyes narrowed and his expression turned grim. “Why? Tell me more? Did he accost her or hurt her?”
“I don’t think so, but she did arrange to meet him secretly.”
“Are you sure he didn’t harm her?”
“Quite sure. It was really a very short meeting between them, but I’m doing my best to see that bit of information doesn’t get out.”
“How does this involve me?”
Daniel rose from his chair and picked up the coffeepot from the sideboard and replenished their cups, then sat back down. “I’m trying to find out who might have had reason to kill Throckmorten.”
“There should be plenty of those,” Chilton muttered.
“Are you one of them, Chilton?”
Chilton’s eyes turned cold and he remained very still as he said, “Yes.”
Daniel sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t want to ask but had to: “Did you?”
“No, but I can’t say I was sorry that someone did the deed. In my opinion it was long overdue.”
“What was your problem with him?”
Chilton pick up his cup and took a sip. “You don’t need to know the reason. My dealings with the man can’t help you.”
“You don’t know that.”
Chilton set his cup down and chuckled derisively. He pushed his chair back from the table and made himself more comfortable in the chair.
“Oh, what the hell, I might as well tell you everything. I probably would have long ago had you not been gone for over a year.”
Daniel waited patiently.
“I was seeing a married woman.”
“When?”
“Over a year ago. We knew we were taking a great risk, but we took it anyway.”
Daniel could relate to that.
“Unfortunately, one afternoon Throckmorten saw me leaving the house where she and I always met. He waited around and saw her leave. When he paid me a visit to tell me he knew about us, naturally I asked him not to say anything. He was more than happy to be discreet.”
“Was he?”
“Oh, yes. For a price. I’ve been paying the devil for his silence for over a year.”
“Damn. That was vulgar of him.”
“Yes.”
“Do you still see her?”
“No. It’s been over since he saw us. I couldn’t take the chance on anyone else seeing us. I couldn’t do that to her. I realized the damage it would cause her wasn’t worth the pleasure we shared.”
“I’m sorry the dead bastard did that to you.”
“At least now you know why I’m not saddened by his death. I do hope he suffered a bit before he drew his last breath.”
Daniel believed Chilton, but if he didn’t kill Throckmorten, who did?
Daniel noticed his valet standing just inside the doorway of the dining room.
“Yes, Parker.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, my lord, but Lord Gleningwold is here. He says he needs to speak to you right away.”
He and Chilton looked at each other, but both remained silent.
“Very well, ask him to join us.”
The short, rotund earl walked in with a smile on his ruddy face. The man was noted for his outlandish mode of dressing, and today proved no exception. He wore a bright red jacket that was styled similar to a military uniform with large gold buttons and fringe. His waistcoat was deep purple with wide pink stripes. Daniel had no doubt the man enjoyed the attention his attire always received.
Daniel and Chilton greeted the man warmly, and pleasantries were exchanged.
“We were just finishing. Would you like to join us?” Daniel asked him.
Lord Gleningwold looked over at the sideboard and saw the eggs, sliced pork, and toast. “Don’t mind if I do.”
While he helped himself to a serving of food, Daniel motioned for Parker to pour the man a cup of coffee. Lord Gleningwold took a seat beside Daniel.
The men talked about the Lord Mayor and Parliament while the elder man polished off his eggs. He generously smothered the bread in his plate with cooked figs before biting into it with relish.
When he pushed his empty plate aside, Daniel said, “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, this.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a lady’s white glove.
Daniel’s brows drew together in a fro
wn. Somehow he knew it belonged to Gretchen but said, “I don’t understand.”
“It has initials in it, and they are the same as your sister’s. Would you mind checking with her and seeing if it belongs to her?”
Did ladies have to put their initials in everything they owned?
“Yes, of course. If not, maybe she will know who it belongs to. How did you happen to come by it?”
“It was found in my garden. I assume she lost it at my party the other night. I can’t think of another time she’s been there recently.”
“Yes, it could be hers. She walked in the garden with me and Miss Winslowe. I don’t remember what she was wearing, but it’s possible she lost it out of her reticule while searching for a handkerchief or dance card.”
“Most likely. You didn’t by any chance see anyone else when you were in the garden, did you?”
He tried to keep his voice nonchalant. “Yes, as it happens, we saw Lord and Lady Stonehurst and spent a few moments talking to them. Why?”
“Oh, it seems Mr. Throckmorten’s brother is checking into his death. It appears the poor bloke was stabbed with a paper knife that came from my home.”
“Really?” Daniel said, feigning surprise. “How do they know that?”
“Well, the damned thing has my initials on it. My wife puts them on everything. We suspect that someone followed him into the garden with the intentions of doing him harm and picked up the knife from my desk on the way out to kill him.”
“But he was found in the Thames,” Daniel argued to be safe.
“Obviously someone either killed him in my garden and moved him, or met him later and killed him with the stolen knife.”
“I’ll be sure to ask Gretchen if she saw anything unusual while we were in the garden.”
“Do that. I’ve assured Mr. Throckmorten’s brother that I had nothing to do with his murder. But he was calling on your sister, wasn’t he?”
Daniel remained calm. “Throckmorten? No, he never called on her. I believe they had a dance or two, but that was all.”
Lord Gleningwold planted his beefy palms on the table to help rise out of his chair. The cups rattled as he shook the table.
“Well, let me know what you find out from your sister. I’ll need the glove back if it isn’t hers.”