At his last word Violet moved closer. ‘And what do you desire?’
* * *
Adam took a step back. Behind him the fire irons hit the marble hearth with a clatter. He picked up the iron poker before it rolled away and prodded it back into a bucket of coal.
Violet Coombes’s blue eyes were frank and wide.
He noticed again how pretty she was. Her riding attire suited her better than the ball gown she’d been wearing the night before. The riding habit was blue velvet, not black broadcloth as his sisters wore. A deep midnight blue that made her eyes like the brightest forget-me-nots. Her curves were shapely and the creaminess of her skin was emphasised by the loosened lace jabot at her throat.
‘A marriage of convenience is all very well,’ she said crisply, ‘but I need to know more before we agree to terms. I have no intention of being a sacrificial lamb.’
‘The terms...’ he clarified.
‘I presume you will want an heir.’
Adam exhaled sharply. He’d been clenching his jaw along with his fists, he realised, as he rolled his fingers from their tight ball. It had been harder than he’d predicted to be so honest about his family’s predicament. Yet it hadn’t been difficult to confide in her. That wide, honest gaze of hers had encouraged him. It was extraordinary. He felt better for having shared his concern with her, to not be alone with it.
Now their conversation had turned into one of the most awkward he’d ever had and, in the course of trying to save the family fortune, he’d had a few.
He decided to match her frankness. ‘My offspring are not a matter to which I’ve given much thought. I’ve been too intent on ensuring there is something to inherit. But if I were to think about it, yes, I would want children. A son.’
She winced. For a moment her lip trembled, then she firmed it. Two pink spots appeared on her cheeks. ‘A son is what all men want.’
The quickly hidden hurt with which she spoke surprised him. She tried to disguise it, but he heard it in her voice.
He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but he couldn’t pry.
‘Beauley Manor will go to a male heir,’ he said evenly. ‘That’s the law.’
‘Many laws need changing.’
‘Certainly. But as it stands, the Beaufort name will continue under the male line.’
‘So would a male heir be part of the bargain? Would I need to provide you with a son? Or would eleven daughters be found wanting?’
Adam frowned. Her words held an almost bitter note. He was a good judge of character. Chocolate could be bitter, he supposed, but it didn’t match the sweetness of Violet Coombes.
In any case, the conversation had become even more damned awkward.
He gave a slight bow. ‘Perhaps my marriage proposal was a bad idea. It was a spur-of-the-moment notion. Forgive me, Miss Coombes, if I have upset you. I’ll take no more of your time.’
* * *
‘Wait!’ Violet put out her hand. ‘It is I who must ask you to forgive me. Today’s events have been very upsetting.’
She sat on the sofa, patted amid the cushions. ‘Please.’
For a moment Adam towered over her. Then his long legs folded as he took a seat on the other end of the sofa. There was very little room for them both to sit amid the tufted pillows her mother adored so much. His thigh almost grazed hers.
Austere, he met her gaze. ‘Miss Coombes. I have no plan to trick or entrap you. My intentions are to see if we can help each other.’
‘A husband has rights,’ she said quietly. ‘That is the law, too.’
Outrage flashed in his eyes. ‘Do you think I would take my rights by force? I’m a gentleman.’
‘That word means little to many men.’
He squared his shoulders. ‘To me, it means a great deal.’
Violet studied Adam Beaufort. She had offended him. She hadn’t meant to.
There was only one thing for it.
She leaned in and kissed him.
Chapter Six
‘Or seem to lift a burden from thy heart
And leave thee freer....’
—Alfred, Lord Tennyson: ‘Love and Duty’ (1842)
Violet sought Adam’s mouth with hers.
He pulled back, but only for a moment.
His mouth was hard as she pressed against it with her lips. There was a slight tingling sensation. Again he moved to pull away. In reply she pressed more intently, running the tip of her tongue between the firm edges of his lips, as though seeking access. As if she had spoken a secret password between them, his mouth opened over hers.
Violet gasped. Under the sudden searching pressure of his mouth, her lips parted. Now there was more than tingling. She fell back against the cushions as he explored her mouth with his tongue. Her eyes fanned closed as her hands reached for more of him, catching the rough edge of his hair at the base of his neck, her body pressed into the cushions. Still seeking her with the heat of his mouth, Adam wrapped his arms around her, as her lips yielded to him.
His hands moved upwards, running his fingers through the tendrils of her hair, to cup her chin in his hands, as if drinking her in. Cushions fell to the carpet as she slid beneath him on the sofa, pulling him closer. Whirling sensations built in her body, as if they were waltzing once again on the ballroom floor. Thought vanished. Only his mouth, his tongue, his breath, only that mattered now.
Deeper. His tongue dived into her, tasting her, searching her, seeking her. His body on hers was hard. More cushions tumbled as she sought to explore him in the same way, matching the pressure of his tongue.
There was no resistance between them now. Her fingers found the strong edge of his jaw, the same way he had cupped hers, drawing his mouth, his body, on to her.
With a muttered expletive he wrenched himself away.
There was no sound, only the ticking of the cherub clock and his breathing, as ragged as her own.
With her elbows Violet raised herself on the sofa. Adam’s back was to her as he rested his head in his hands.
Her bodice heaved as she struggled to sit upright. What had she done?
Adam raised his head. ‘You taste like violets.’
He sounded stunned.
‘What? Oh. The chocolates.’ Violet glanced at the tin of Floral Creams, taking the opportunity to catch her breath. Her heart raced.
She had never expected a kiss to be like that. Not that she had any experience. It was her first kiss.
She peeped at Adam. It could not be his first kiss. Surely he had been—skilled. He’d kissed her in the same way he waltzed. Strong, secure, practised.
The whirling, dancing sensation returned to her body, quivering through her core, trembling down, even into her legs. She wondered if she would be able to stand.
He had not got to his feet, either. He was still seated on the edge of the sofa, amid the tumble of cushions, his body bent away from her.
‘I suppose you think me forward,’ she said at last.
Young ladies were not supposed to kiss gentlemen. Yet another rule that only applied to the female sex. Another rule by which she refused to abide.
He twisted his head towards her and smiled, unexpectedly. The dent darted in his cheek. ‘You’ve surprised me upon every occasion we have met, Miss Coombes. But this, may I say, is the most pleasant surprise so far.’
Violet blushed. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her again. She leaned towards him before her brain had time to function.
He shifted. ‘Forgive me. I don’t quite understand. Earlier you implied that you didn’t wish to...’ he paused as if trying to find the right words, ‘...marry.’
‘That is correct.’
‘So why—?’
‘Did I kiss you?’
The dent darted again. ‘Indeed.’
‘I’m a modern woman,’ sh
e said earnestly. ‘Or I hope to be.’
He cleared his throat. ‘Ah. Of course.’
‘Women will win the vote, and soon,’ Violet explained. ‘It will bring all kinds of release.’
‘Hmm.’
‘I’ve studied the subject of marital relations,’ she confided. ‘In medical journals. I have no wish to be ignorant.’
‘I see.’
‘I’m aware of what happens in marriage, between a man and a woman.’ She bit her lip. ‘I cannot abide hypocrisy. I would prefer to say what I mean. Do you think we might be—well matched?’
‘I believe so, Miss Coombes. I believe so.’ His grin flashed again. ‘Forgive me. There are no words for these circumstances. I am at a loss for them.’
‘Deeds, not words,’ Violet said.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘It’s the suffragette motto.’ Violet reached for the tin of Floral Creams. ‘Might you care for a chocolate after all?’
‘That would be most welcome.’
She proffered the tin. He took a violet cream, she noticed.
‘We’re discussing marriage.’ She selected a rose cream this time for herself. ‘Not a commercial arrangement. I have no wish to find ourselves repugnant to each other.’
He finished his chocolate fondant in a single bite. ‘There’s no danger of that, Miss Coombes.’
‘Would you like another?’ She held out the selection.
He shook his head. ‘I think one is enough, for today at least.’
Violet let the rose fondant melt in her mouth. She could still taste his kiss on her tongue, along with the chocolate’s sweetness.
She swallowed. ‘Will you be able to...wait?’
She floundered over the question. She had managed to be forthright in their discourse so far and had surprised even herself by kissing him. But to discuss male needs...
‘I possess the required self-control, Miss Coombes, if that’s what you’re asking,’ Adam drawled. ‘You need have no fear.’
‘I hope it will not be too many years before the momentous occasion occurs.’
‘The momentous occasion...’
She stared at him in astonishment. ‘When women get the vote.’
‘The vote.’ He shook his head. ‘Quite right.’
‘I cannot say when the date will be. But when it does arrive, we can begin married life.’
He crossed one long leg over the other. ‘It’s a sound plan.’
‘You’d be happy with this arrangement?’
‘We both share the desire to put duty first.’ His mouth tightened. ‘I am not averse to waiting, for reasons of my own. Having witnessed the chaos of my parents’ marriage, caused by my father’s habits, I’d prefer a straightforward, workable approach to married life.’
‘I see.’ She waited to see if he would say any more, but he did not.
‘I, too, would like children one day,’ she said, after a moment. ‘But not...’
‘Not yet,’ he concluded. ‘You’ve been very clear, Miss Coombes. It’s been most enlightening. I promise you, I understand your meaning completely. Until women win the vote, we can be—friends.’
‘Friends,’ she echoed him now, like her parents’ parrot.
His eyes glinted in amusement. ‘It’s possible for a man and a woman to be friends, I believe.’
In relief she released the air trapped in her corset.
‘When the time does come for children, I’d prefer a girl,’ she confided.
‘Perhaps we might settle upon one of each.’
Violet’s own cheeks flamed hot again. ‘That sounds most satisfactory.’
The cherub clock chimed.
Violet jumped.
He glanced at the clock. ‘I have no wish to pressure you, but time is of the essence if we wish to avert a scandal.’
She nodded briskly. He was right. There was no time to waste. ‘If we make an agreement between us, what shall we tell our families?’
‘Your parents already know of my proposal. There would be no difficulty there.’
‘That’s true.’ They would be relieved. The distress she’d caused—now she would be able to put it right. Seeing her papa have one of his turns had shaken her. She didn’t want them to suffer.
And perhaps, she thought with sudden dismay, it might be a relief to her, too. She would always love them, but she could no longer live easily under her parents’ roof. Not any more. Not knowing that she was considered second-rate. Her papa loved her, but his views had made her even more determined to support the Cause. Perhaps one day, having a daughter would be considered as valuable as having a son. She would do her part to make that happen, if she could.
‘What of your family?’ she queried of Adam. ‘I wouldn’t want you to feel a need to be deceitful.’
‘I only have my mother to consider and my two sisters. Jane and Arabella. I will simply inform them we have decided to wed, that it is a sudden but happy decision.’
‘Will they enquire further?’
‘If they do, I will make the necessity of our match clear to them. Otherwise, our private arrangements can be kept quiet. All we shall say to our families, and to other friends and acquaintances, is that we both want the match and we hope they will be pleased for us.’
‘I have no wish to lie,’ Violet said.
‘You won’t need to. It’s no business of anyone else. No one needs to know it is a marriage of convenience except ourselves.’ He creased his forehead. ‘An announcement in The Times will suffice. The less we say, the better. That’s the way to end any scandal. And the sooner we set a wedding date, all the better, if you’re agreeable.’
‘My mama will want to organise my wedding dress and trousseau.’ Violet cast a doubtful look around the drawing room, with its frills and furbelows. Perhaps having less time would prove an advantage. She adored her mama and would defend her frills against anyone, but, truth be told, their dress sense differed greatly.
He ran his hand through his hair. ‘Shall we set the date for one month’s time?’
‘Would that satisfy your creditors? If it’s not indelicate to ask.’ She hoped she wasn’t sounding rude again.
‘You must believe me when I say I admire your frankness. To be equally frank, it’s somewhat of a relief to be able to discuss the matter with you. There are rather a lot of them. Debts, I mean. But I believe one month would be satisfactory.’
‘My settlement could be made earlier,’ Violet offered.
‘I’m sure it won’t be required.’ He glanced again at the cherub clock. ‘This really has been an extraordinary morning, or should I say afternoon. Is there anything else you wish us to consider before we embark upon our engagement? Because once we make an announcement...’
‘There’ll be no turning back.’ Violet lifted her chin. ‘I must be certain. When you say you would give me freedom, Mr Beaufort...’
‘My name is Adam. If we’re betrothed, I don’t think we can expect each other to continue with our formal titles. No more Mr Beaufort.’
‘And no more Miss Coombes.’ That would be true in more ways than one, she realised with shock. ‘You must call me Violet.’
His gaze lingered on her lips. ‘That won’t be hard to remember.’
She took a deep breath. ‘I must prepare you...Adam. I will throw myself entirely into the Cause. I wish to attend rallies, and meetings, and marches, and give speeches. It’s been a secret dream of mine ever since I heard Mrs Emmeline Pankhurst give one. She founded the suffragettes, you know. She was so rousing. Deeds, not words. It changed my whole view of a woman’s life, of a woman. To be able to convince others of the validity of the Cause, to show how worthy women are of a right to speak, to take part in our country’s future, means everything to me.’
The admiration in his eyes was sincere. ‘You’ve already convinc
ed me.’
‘It’s been such a frustration, having to keep my views secret.’
‘Under your petticoat, so to speak,’ he drawled.
Violet burst out laughing. ‘Exactly.’
She became serious. ‘There are not many men who would support their wives in this matter.’
‘Our marriage will be different. It will be more convenient.’ He got to his feet to tower beside her. He was so tall. He leaned towards her, his gaze on her mouth. For a moment she thought he meant to kiss her again as he moved closer.
His breath swept her lips. ‘I swear it you, Violet Coombes. You will have your freedom.’
Silence fell between them, as quiet as a church.
He held out his hand. ‘Shall we shake hands on it?’
‘Is that what they do in the gentlemen’s clubs?’ She sought to lighten the moment. There was an extraordinary atmosphere between them, almost sacred.
‘Indeed.’ He grinned with chagrin. ‘Not that every gentleman’s handshake is honour-bound. But mine is, I assure you.’
Her skin tingled. She believed him.
‘Do we have an agreement?’
‘We do.’ Violet held out her hand in return. ‘I didn’t expect making a marriage of convenience to be so civil.’
He took it in his. His grip was warm, encasing hers. ‘We haven’t made our marriage yet.’
His touch, skin to skin, so soon after their kiss, made her quiver inside. One day it would be a real marriage, not a sham, regardless of whether or not it began as a marriage of convenience. This man would be her husband in word and, one day, in deed.
* * *
Adam glanced up at the balcony of his family’s London town house.
He wondered if he would ever be able to look at it again without thinking of Violet Coombes. In his mind’s eye he could still see her shape as she clung to the edge, attempting to hang her banner in the dim moonlight. Then the feel of her as she fell into his arms, the softness, combined with the strong will that he was beginning to recognise more and more. It was in her movements, in her voice, in her courageous approach to life.
The Scandalous Suffragette Page 7