Abigail saw the sneer of disbelief on James’ face.
“You might scoff my love, but as mad as King George is, he knows there is gold missing from the Treasury and all it will take is the suggestion that Rosewall is in league with Charles Fox to defraud the Crown and he'll be swinging from the gibbet.”
James was stunned. Not by the threat against Selina’s brother, which he would gamble would be an empty one, but by the fact that the missing gold was now court gossip.
Sir Percy needed to know of this and so did William. Selina’s face came to him briefly and he silently groaned. She would hate him if she knew any of this.
“How do you know of this matter?” he asked.
Abigail shrugged. “You’d be surprised by the things men will reveal to women between the sheets.”
She gave James a long, appreciative look.
“But then, perhaps not,” she added.
“So which of your many lovers has been blessed with such a vivid imagination?” James demanded, hoping to goad her into revealing how widespread knowledge of the missing gold had become.
“Not a word from my lips, but suffice to say that my source takes a very keen interest in the subject, and he is very heavily reliant on there being plenty of gold in the Exchequer.”
James inwardly groaned. That narrowed it down some—just most of the House of Lords, the House of Commons, and the members of the Royal Family...
Abigail stood and sashayed towards the hedge row corner before halting to look back.
“We have an understanding after all, don’t we lover?”
Chapter Twelve
Selina waited as the harried maid placed the ewer of steaming hot water on the wash stand.
“I’ll bring some cloths shortly, miss. I have to finish attending to Lady Catherine’s bath and then Lady Abigail has to have her bed warmed, then Miss Edith wants...”
Selina rubbed her eyes. “That’s fine Mary, just come back with the towels. I can take care of the rest myself.”
The maid showed her relief, curtsied, and moved out of the room at speed.
Selina was quite used to undressing herself. It had actually felt quite odd to have someone to unfasten her laces and brush out her hair over the past week.
She removed her day dress and corset, electing to remain in her linen shift as she brushed the hair which tumbled down her back. Lamplight in the room highlighted red and gold in her brunette locks.
She glanced at her reflection and pulled a face. Putting up with Lady Abigail on her own with her snide comments and condescension was bad enough, but she could ignore it. Lady Christina acted through she didn’t exist, and she could live with that as well.
But now with James here, she could only imagine how much worse it would be with Lady Abigail marking her territory like a tom cat, egged on by his mother.
She smiled wistfully; it was wonderful to see James again.
Selina had to confess that she missed him. Seeing him again in the flesh and the smile he greeted her with made her relive their last evening together with the feel of his lips on hers.
She missed him terribly in fact, but over the past two weeks he had somehow become somewhat less real, more a romantic notion or a work of fiction—simply a lovely memory she would take with her at the end of the summer to sustain her in quiet moments in whatever employment she found.
Selina looked at her reflection. It was flushed. She closed her eyes.
Stop it! she admonished herself.
It was too awful that James’ grandmother knew her secret.
Lady Margaret saw more than she disclosed, but were she to react like little lovesick Edith every time he entered the room, then not only would it put James in an invidious position, but it would also give Lady Abigail and Lady Christina all the more ammunition to make her life a true misery.
Perhaps it was a good thing that James took Abigail out for a walk around the hedge maze. Spending time with her alone might make him realise that someone from his own society would make him a much better match. If the woman didn’t truly care for the James, why would she have waited six years for him to return, and why would she try to warn off a potential rival?
Hating the direction of her thoughts, Selina put her hairbrush down and loosened the neck of her shift, letting it fall to her waist. By now the hot water must have cooled enough to wash. She drew the sponge across her neck, her arms, and her breasts.
Again unbidden, the remembrance of James and the way he had allowed his fingers to brush against the top of her breasts aroused her as she washed. Oh, she despaired, life was so unfair she could almost cry.
So caught up in her thoughts, she almost missed the soft knock at the door.
“Come in, Mary,” she answered, not turning to the door. “I take it Lady Catherine wasn’t so demanding tonight? You can leave the towel on the bed.”
Selina continued to wash herself when it occurred to her that she didn’t hear the girl leave.
“Was there something else, Mary?”
No reply. She turned and was startled by the sight of James standing there. He looked at her with a hunger she had never before seen. Belatedly, she drew her chemise over her breasts.
Selina’s mouth dried. She couldn’t form the words to tell him to leave. And she should be outraged.
If it had been any other man, she’d be screaming the house down, but seeing his hooded look, she swallowed and glanced at the bed.
What would it be like if he were to take her now? Fresh arousal filled her.
“If you look at me like that again, I won’t be able to stop myself, Selina,” he said huskily, as though reading her thoughts.
She blushed and retied the neck of her slip.
There was a new knock on the door.
“I have your drying cloths, Miss,” called Mary. The knob turned and the door started to open.
A short, sharp shove from James closed it.
Mary responded from outside with a squeak of surprise. Selina also jumped, eyes wide in shock.
Mary knocked again. “Miss?” she asked, uncertainly.
Shaking herself, Selina dragged her eyes from James and addressed the door. “I’m not dressed!”
Selina grimaced at her flimsy excuse and shaky voice.
James simply grinned, earning him a scowl.
“I’m sorry Mary,” she called out, “just... just leave them by the door, please.”
There was a moment’s hesitation on the other side of the door, then, “Yes, miss.”
Selina sighed quietly in relief. She listened as the maid’s footsteps retreated down the hall and out of earshot, then marched to where James stood in front of the door. After pushing his shoulder firmly to make him step aside, Selina opened the door cautiously, picking up the towels and peering down the corridor.
It was empty.
She closed the door and threw the locking catch to prevent any further close calls, before turning on James who now stood further inside the room, a look of amusement on his face.
“Are you intent to fully ruin my reputation?” she demanded in an angry low voice. “What if Mary had seen you in here with me undressed? The gossip would be through the house before the hour was out and then what would your mother say?
“It’s bad enough that your grandmother knows I’m in love with you, but how am I to make a decent employment if on my very first post I’m seen seducing the master of the house?”
The amused expression evaporated from James’ face.
“What did you just say?”
“I said how am I to make a decent living when—”
“Before that.”
Embarrassment flushed Selina’s cheeks.
“Your grandmother knows that I’m in love with you,” she whispered.
James grinned once more.
“You find that amusing?” demanded Selina.
“Come here,” he said, holding out his hand. “Perhaps I haven’t been clear in expressing how I feel about you, so I�
��ll have to show you instead.”
He led her to the end of the room in front of the washstand.
“Do you trust me Selina?”
Selina was frozen on the spot, mesmerised and fascinated by his eyes which appeared to have darkened to the colour of coal. Without hesitation she nodded, despite her earlier anger.
Holding her hand, he turned her away from him to face the washstand and loosened the ribbons around the neck of her chemise, allowing the loose fabric to slide across the heightened sensitivity of her skin. A soft sigh left her lips.
The soft linen fell to her waist as it had done a few moments before.
James reached past her and picked up the sponge, dipped it in the warm water, and squeezed it to remove the excess.
“I see you and my spine reacts like this.” He drew the sponge slowly up and down Selina’s back.
The feel of the warm water and the sensation of the sponge caused her to gasp. Even within Selina’s limited experience, she knew not all the goosebumps that prickled her skin were to do with the sensation of the wash.
James turned her to face him again. With unhurried purpose, he bent to kiss her and her mouth opened for him, but after one thorough kiss, he ended the contact with a gentle peck on each cheek.
He dipped the sponge in the water again.
“My arms remember what it was like to hold you while we danced,” he spoke, drawing the sponge up and down each arm in turn, then dipping his head to plant kisses down each side of her neck and across each shoulder.
A whimper left Selina’s lips and James bent to whisper in her ear.
“Let yourself go, my love, experience just this.”
Selina shivered again.
For a third time, the sponge emerged from the warm wash bowl to wash across her neck, the top of her chest, and down across each breast. Selina’s nipples puckered.
With eyes closed, she heard James inhale deeply to steady himself.
The flickering lamplight highlighted her firm round breasts that sat high on her chest. He sank on to the bed and pulled her towards him, standing her between his spread legs.
“I’ve spent nights recalling the feel of you against my chest...” He captured one of her rosy pink nipples with his lips. Selina groaned and moisture flooded her sex. Her arms longed to touch him, but they felt heavy and weighted. All sensation centred on where his lips touched her body.
James’ hand slid up her waist and over to her other breast where his fingers flexed and played with the smooth white skin, revelling in its weight and texture.
Selina gasped at each new sensation, her hips rocking to an ageless rhythm, wanting a nameless fulfilment. She whispered his name over and over as his lips trailed from one breast to the other exploring both with mouth and hands.
After a long moment, he stood again and the brush of his shirt against her bare skin raised another line of tremors and a moan of pleasure.
Another tug and the shift fell from her hips, leaving her fully nude in front of him. She gasped and emerged from the fresh haze of arousal he had created in her.
Her eyes questioned him and her tongue emerged to lick her lips nervously as she watched him rake over her form for a moment before his mouth plundered hers. She responded with similar enthusiasm, spreading her hands across the expanse of his back before sweeping upwards until her fingers found his hair at the nape and spread across the back of his head like the tendrils of a vine.
The feel of him on her skin without corsets, cottons, satins, and silks was intoxicating. Selina's head fell back to allow him better access to her neck. He took advantage of it and turned her so the back of her thighs rested against the woollen blankets that covered the bed.
A thought throbbed through her urgently. This was it. He was going to make love to her and she was going to let him.
“Do you still trust me?” he gasped.
Selina nodded.
“I need you to say the words,” he demanded. “Do you still trust me?”
Her mouth opened but no words came out; Selina swallowed and tried again.
“I do,” she whispered.
A fourth time, James reached out and plunged the sponge into the wash bowl, then, to her surprise, he sank to his knees. Starting from her lower back and bottom, the sponge brushed along each cheek, then down the back of one thigh and then the other.
Selina spread her legs apart, not knowing why she should do so, only knowing that it was the right thing to do.
James held her securely at her waist, for which she was grateful. Selina’s knees seemed unable to hold her weight without shaking.
The sponge laved the tops of her feet and the front of her legs one at a time before being drawn up the inside of one thigh and then the other, just short of the junction of her legs.
The tease was both pleasure and pain at once. The sensation was exquisite, Selina acknowledged, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
“I think about you like this and all the things I want to do to you, with you and for you...” he whispered hoarsely.
Her feet shifted and her hips swayed, chasing the sponge with small movements as it washed across her belly and then hips before its fluid warmth slid across her thatch of curls. Selina’s knees buckled and a cry escaped her lips.
She felt so good, so wanton.
James guided her down until she sat on the edge of the bed, moving in until her legs were spread in front of him.
With a groan that told her that he had reached the limits of control, his hands quickly ran up her thighs and across her belly with his thumbs circling ever closer to the centre of her restless ache.
Half spoken, broken words encouraged him while the first of his fingers slipped between her curls and circled across and beneath her folds, quickly followed by his lips and tongue.
The feeling was ecstasy. Against the rising tide of pleasure emanating from her core, Selina clenched and unclenched her fists in the blankets.
A keening moan stifled by her hand across her mouth and the shudders which moved her bodily allowed James to feel and hear the exact moment she came.
He leaned down and kissed her, then moved across her cheek to her ear and whispered “That’s what you do to me, Selina. Never doubt how I feel about you.”
* * *
Somewhere in the house a grandfather clock chimed the hour. It was one o’clock. Selina lay in a half doze, as she had done for a couple of hours, warm beneath the blankets heated by James’ naked body beside her.
Her face rested against his bare chest. His arm was around her and his hand brushed and teased her shoulder.
She had whispered that she would like to bring his fulfilment as he had brought hers, and she was aroused again by watching her lover reach his moment at her hand.
Lover.
She and James were lovers.
Although they had not truly consummated—she still remained a virgin—Selina knew that was only a matter of time. The thought filled her with fresh longing and she found her leg restlessly rubbing his. It was stilled by a hand on her thigh as James turned to face her.
“Soon my darling,” he whispered. Selina found that anticipation, too, was arousing.
His features darkened with a thought, and Selina frowned in concern at his expression.
“There’s so much more about me that I wish I could tell you Selina, things you may hear that could cause you to doubt me,” he began. “I want to earn the same look in your eyes that you gave your brother the night we first met at the ball. I want your love and respect.”
Selina opened her mouth to speak, to tell him that he already had both, but he shook his head and stopped her with a finger brushed tenderly across her lips.
“The hardest thing I have ever had to do is leave you tonight, but you have my vow. I love you and we will be together.”
She, in turn, silenced him with a kiss.
“Don’t promise what you have no control over, James,” she whispered. “We love each other, let that be
enough for now.”
Chapter Thirteen
Two horses galloped along the wide sandy shoreline of the River Camel as it stretched toward to the Atlantic Ocean beyond, their shadows casting long in the early morning sunlight. Their riders were clearly experienced horsemen.
Reaching the end of the beach the horses were slowed to a trot, happy to be directed to walk side by side, sheltered in the lee of the low cliffs at Iron Cove.
“You’ve been preoccupied since yesterday evening and riding like the devil this morning,” said Jackson. “Still, I suppose it's understandable with two beautiful women available under the same roof...”
The joke earned a filthy look from James.
Jackson wiped his smile. “I know, not a laughing matter.” They rode in silence for several seconds before Jackson spoke again. “You’re not the type to get himself caught up in a love triangle so it’s more serious than that. What is it?”
“Abigail attempted to blackmail me last night,” answered James.
“She did what?”
“She knows, or suspects, about the siphoned gold. Apparently one of her new lovers told her.”
“Do you know who?”
James sighed. “It could be anyone from the Prince of Wales himself through to the Parliamentary secretary. Abigail certainly has the access as lady-in-waiting to the Princess Royal.”
“How is she threatening you?”
“Oh, Abigail is too clever to threaten me directly, my friend.” James turned in his saddle to face him. “She's set her aim at William Rosewall. Threatens to implicate him in the missing gold if I don’t agree to announce our engagement at Pitts’ Masquerade Ball. She has enough clout to see him investigated at least.
“Depending on who the source of her information is, there might be evidence being manufactured against him as we speak to throw the scent off the real conspirators. And with that much gold at stake, they wouldn't hesitate in letting an innocent man hang for it.”
Jackson’s appal showed clearly on his face, and even more obviously in the brief string of curses, perfected in some of the less upmarket saloons of Pennsylvania, that escaped his lips.
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