“Do you truly think I would insult your family in such a manner?”
Michelle was thoughtful for a moment. When she faced him again, Paul saw the flicker in her eyes. Was she angry?
“I don’t recall meeting your uncle at the wedding,” he said, thinking to get to the bottom of matters. “Will he be joining us at Thomasham?”
She shook her head. “He’s become a recluse these past few years. I haven’t spent much time in his company since I was a child. He was always very nice to me, though.”
“Was he close to your father?”
“Oh, yes,” she said with a smile. “My father liked him very much and always treated him kindly.”
With the expression of fondness on her face, he could almost think he’d imagined her anger earlier. “It seems strange such a pleasant man would have a son like Reggie.”
Michelle lost her smile. “Reggie is a scoundrel.”
“You went for a ride with him just yesterday.”
She once more turned her attention to the responses on the desk. “I told you that was at my mother’s insistence.”
“So, pray, share the burgeoning list of revelers with me.”
Michelle smiled and read from the list of friends and family expected to join them at Thomasham. He let her voice wash over him, not hearing one name she recited as he puzzled over her strange connection to Reginald Thomas.
As Michelle readied for dinner that evening, her thoughts went back to their conversation in the sitting room. Paul wouldn’t insult her family in such a manner? How dare he say such a thing! He’d insulted her father’s memory by refusing her dowry, hadn’t he?
And what of his interest in Reggie? Did he suspect his involvement in what she was coming to view as her shameful deceit?
She frowned at her image in the mirror, more torn over the events of the past few days than she could have foreseen. She wouldn’t speak of Reggie, or of the so-called gift from his father. She wouldn’t divulge her theft of Paul’s gifted words. No. She’d force her conversation to be light and gay, to enchant her husband so he could think of nothing but her.
Chapter 22
It was one week before they were to leave for Thomasham, and Michelle’s nerves were held intact by a thread thinner than the one she plied with her needle. The prettily-redecorated front parlor was no haven this morning. Another request would come today. Another missive from Reggie, another theft from Paul’s office. She knew it in her heart. Yes, Parliament would close sessions by next week. But Reggie would make sure to continue his blackmail when next they were in Town.
“I need to speak with Lord Leed directly,” a male voice boomed from the foyer. “Tell him I will not be refused.”
Her breath held, she left her needlework on the settee and stepped into the entryway just as a red-faced Starks was bowing before the well-dressed visitor.
“Yes, Lord Gorham,” the butler said. “I will announce you.”
“As you should.” Lord Gorham, a barrel-chested man in his forties, glared at the servant before spotting her in the arched doorway of the front parlor. “Lady Leed. Pray, forgive my intrusion but your husband and I have business to discuss.”
“Gorham, what is the—” Paul stopped as he too saw Michelle standing there. He gave her a short bow and faced Lord Gorham. “In my office, Gorham. We will not be disturbed.”
Michelle watched a slightly-mollified Lord Gorham precede Paul down the hall toward his office. Paul cast a puzzled look in her direction and followed his visitor.
Was this related to her deceit? Michelle gripped the wooden casing of the doorway to keep herself upright. God help her now.
Paul closed the door and turned to Lord Gorham. “Gorham, pray what is this about?”
“My speech, Leed. My bloody inadequate speech against the Chancery.”
“I don’t understand.” Paul sat behind his desk and waved Gorham into the seat facing him. “The points were yours. I thought you’ve always been happy with my illustrations of them in the past.”
Gorham sat, removing his hat as he blew out an exasperated breath. “God help me, I don’t know how I was to defend my position.”
“Why?”
“Because, Leed, before I could state my points and your eloquent illustrations my opponent anticipated me.”
“Surely not on the entirety of your speech.”
“Indeed. On every bloody point!”
Paul was dumbfounded. “I don’t know what to say. I regret your argument was not heard to full effect.”
“Do you? That is not much solace to me. I’m a laughingstock.”
“Surely not that.” Paul eyed the imposing gentleman in front of him. “Your views are to be respected.”
“But not heard, apparently.” Gorham stood and placed his hat on his head. “Pray, don’t worry that I will come to you in the future.”
“What are you saying? You blame me for this?”
Gorham had the grace to shrug. “Not precisely. But perhaps it’s time I find another man to eloquently express my opinions. I assure you, I will not be the only one to make that decision.”
“Now see here, Gorham—”
Gorham pulled open the door and shook his head. “I hear you’re off to your wife’s family seat. Enjoy yourself. Perhaps by the time you return to Town I’ll have reconsidered.”
Paul could do nothing as Gorham left, his threat hanging heavy in the air. Without his speeches he would never be able to set aside the money to dower his sisters. The gift from Michelle’s uncle would go a long way toward making repairs and such to the townhouse, but as far as giving him a legacy to leave his own children?
His speeches brought more than money, it was true. He earned the respect of some of the most important men in the government. Men who depended upon him to aid their causes and see their voices heard. If Gorham went through on his threat, his work wouldn’t be desired.
“What the devil happened?” he muttered.
* * * *
The ride to her family’s estate promised to be an easy one. He crossed his legs and settled in the seat across from Michelle.
Another client had visited just two days past, irate over his ineffectual speech regarding the Navy’s lack of border supervision. Like Gorham, his points had been anticipated and ripped to shreds before he could do more than give them voice. Thank God the session had ceased. Paul didn’t think his reputation could withstand one more angry client. Maybe with time away Gorham and his ilk would regain their senses and come to rely on Paul’s expertise once again. He couldn’t think about it now. Not with Michelle’s recent behavior nearly matching his father’s in strangeness.
During dinner last evening he’d broached the subject of her cousin again. Michelle had looked guilty and angry in the same instant, a baffling reaction. He’d get to the bottom of the matter at Thomasham then. There he was certain he could observe them together and see why she bristled whenever Reggie’s name was mentioned.
“Oh, I can scarcely wait to arrive in Derbyshire,” Michelle said.
Paul smiled at her enthusiasm as he took in her appearance. She wore a travel dress of pale yellow dotted with tiny white flowers. She paired it with a short spencer made of gold velvet and she never looked lovelier. Her matching bonnet rested beside on the seat. She wore her lustrous hair caught up at her crown, with several golden-red curls floating about her face.
“I’m looking forward to getting away from Town, as well,” he said in absurd understatement.
She favored him with a smile. “You will adore Thomasham, Paul. My father extolled the hunting there.”
Paul nodded. “Derbyshire is most agreeable. Chester’s estate is but an hour’s ride from Thomasham on horseback, and we’ve hunted there often.”
Michelle suddenly got a twinkle in her eye. Paul arched a brow at her. “What are you thinking?”
Michelle giggled. “I hope my mother’s friends bring their daughters, Paul. With Lords Chester and Roberts in attendance, this exte
nded visit could prove fruitful.”
Paul smiled crookedly. “You cannot expect those two to succumb to a lady’s charms as easily as I did, Michelle.”
She gave an unladylike snort. “Easily? You chilled me with your indifference at Kanewood.”
She referred to their meeting at Lord and Lady Kanewood’s estate last year. He’d been cold and indifferent, though it had all been a deception.
“Ah, Michelle,” he began. “I knew the danger you held for me even then.”
“Danger?”
He nodded, leaning forward to take her hands in his. “I knew with one kiss I’d fall hopelessly in love with you.”
She clicked her tongue and smiled. “My mother has all but taken over the planning of the ball. Well, it’s sure to be a success.”
“No doubt.”
“We should have a few days to ourselves before our guests arrive, I imagine.”
Paul was thoughtful for a moment. “How many rooms are there at Thomasham, wife?”
She looked at him in question. “Why do you ask?”
He flashed her a wicked grin.
She caught his meaning and gasped. “Paul, you can’t mean to … In my mother’s home!?”
“You can’t expect me to keep my hands off you for long.”
“But…”
“Don’t fret, love. I promise I’ll restrain myself.”
Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Oh, please. Do no such thing, husband.”
His blood warmed at her invitation. He leaned his head back and regarded her through heavy-lidded eyes. “You’ll give me ideas again, wife.”
Her mouth was an O of surprise. “Don’t you dare. We’ll stop for lunch shortly, and I want to look presentable.”
He hid his smile.
They took lunch at a charming inn outside of Bedford, dining on cold ham, fresh salads, and crusty bread. Michelle had tea with her meal, while Paul couldn’t resist the lure of stout country ale.
Afterward, he assisted her into the carriage once more. Michelle removed her bonnet and fluffed the curls around her face. She leaned back, a deep sigh escaping her lips.
“Satisfied, love?” he teased.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “The meal was splendid. Just the thing.”
His eyes raked over her, thinking she was far more delectable than their meal had been. “The meal was pleasant, I suppose.”
She arched a brow at him. “Aren’t you satisfied, husband?”
He was certain his grin told her thoughts of food were far from his mind.
“Paul, what are you thinking?”
“Ah, Michelle, you know precisely what I am thinking.” He joined her on the seat and began to unbutton her spencer. He eased the jacket off of her shoulders, placing a tender kiss in the crook of her neck. “We have at least two hours before we reach Derbyshire, love.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He brought his lips close to hers. “I can think of no better way to pass the time.”
Michelle gave a soft moan of surrender and Paul was only too happy to accept her invitation.
When the carriage rolled into Derbyshire Michelle shot Paul a look of reproach as she brushed her hands over her hopelessly-wrinkled skirt. He merely shrugged and flashed her an grin as he tied his cravat.
“How much farther into the county is Thomasham, wife?”
“Not far.” She pulled on her spencer and peered out the window. “A half hour’s ride, perhaps.”
Paul nodded and donned his jacket.
“Well?” Michelle asked. “Do I look presentable?”
He ran his gaze over her. Her cheeks were rosy and flushed, her lips slightly swollen from his kisses. But her hair. It was a riot of curls, in delightful disarray. His blood warmed as he remembered how his fingers had tunneled through the fiery mass, twisting the strands in his fist as he held her tightly to him.
He hid his grin. “Wear your bonnet.”
Her eyes widened as she hurried to do just that.
The carriage rounded a bend in the road, and Paul saw the house. The late earl’s wealth and good taste was evident in both the grounds and the structure. Thomasham was impressive, with peaks and gables too numerous to count rising majestically to the skies. The building was of sand-colored stone, the color blending nicely with the foliage and manicured grounds.
Michelle turned to Paul, her eyes bright. “What do you think?”
The Earl of Thomasham had certainly used his investments wisely. If only his father had taken such care. Talbot Hall, Paul’s father’s estate, was as grand as Thomasham, but in some disrepair.
“Your father’s estate is beautiful, love,” he stated.
The carriage rolled over the long stone drive and rocked to a stop in front of the house. Paul alighted, assisting Michelle from the carriage. They climbed the wide stone steps and walked through the open entrance.
“Michelle!” Lady Helen rushed toward them. “Lord Leed!”
“Hello, Mother,” Michelle said, kissing her mother on the cheek.
Paul bowed to his mother-in-law. “Lady Thomas.”
Lady Helen smiled at the couple. “I’ve been waiting and waiting for your arrival,” she said. “Leed, what do you think of Thomasham?”
Paul looked about the entry, toward the drawing room visible through one arch. The furnishings were elegant, the decor superb. He smiled at his mother-in-law.
“Thomasham is lovely, Lady Helen,” he said. “Quite befitting the lady of the house.”
Lady Helen blushed at his praise. She linked her arm through Michelle’s and turned her toward the grand, winding staircase. Paul followed behind the pair.
“I had your belongings brought up to the Rose Room, Michelle,” she told her daughter.
Michelle gasped in obvious delight. “The Rose Room!”
“Why don’t you go upstairs and freshen up, dear?” Lady Helen said. “You must have had quite a journey.”
“Mother, why would you think…?” Michelle glanced down at her wrinkle dress and shot a look of pique at Paul before turning back to her mother. “I believe I shall freshen up.”
“I trust you’ll join me for tea?” her mother asked them.
Paul nodded with a smile. He turned and followed his wife up the grand staircase. They turned at the top of the stairs, bound for the guest rooms. Michelle grabbed his hand and tugged, pulling him down the hall with her.
“Oh, Paul,” she began, “wait until you see the Rose Room. It’s my absolute favorite.”
“I gathered as much, love.”
Michelle stopped in front of one door, a look of anticipation on her face. She turned the handle and pushed the door open, her face wearing a look of rapture. Paul threw a glance into the room his wife so loved. His brows arched as he took in the details. The polished floor was nearly covered with a finely-woven oriental carpet, a pattern of roses trailing over it. The walls were covered in rose-colored silk, the windows, with draperies bearing the room’s namesake. The large fireplace was wrapped with gilt, the golden tone warming the room.
Paul’s eyes fell on the large bed dominating the space. The four-poster was gilded as well, and was draped in fabric to match the walls and windows. How could he sleep on such a preposterous contraption? His opinion changed when Michelle perched herself on the edge of the magnificent bed. She’d removed her bonnet, and her hair fell in soft curls. It proved an enticing picture, his lovely wife surrounded by furnishings as beautiful as she. He felt desire stir within him. He crossed to the bed and sat beside her.
“Well, wife,” he said softly. “You finally got your wish.”
She arched a brow at him.
He laid back and placed his hands behind his head, thinking to enlighten her. “You finally have rose brocade draped over your bed.”
“Oh, Paul.” She turned and stretched out beside him, placing her hands on his chest. “I only want you draped over my bed.”
Michelle had deftly turned his words back on him. She kissed him lig
htly, teasingly, and climbed off of the bed.
“Michelle,” Paul began. “What are you about?”
She closed the door and faced him. Slowly she began to unbutton her spencer. He guessed her intent and his desire flared. He sat on the edge of the bed and quickly removed his boots. When he glanced up once more, Michelle had stripped down to her chemise and petticoat. He ran his eyes over her as he shrugged out of his jacket. She removed her undergarments as he watched. He stood and tore off his waistcoat and shirt, wild to feel her naked body pressed against his. When she crossed over to him, he wore only his breeches. He wrapped his arms around her and stared down at her, in his mind’s eye already inside her. She ran her hands over his chest and leaned up to kiss him once more. Her hand trailed down to the front of his breeches, her fingers lightly stroking him. He closed his eyes and moaned as he felt himself grow even harder.
“Paul?” she whispered as she worked the buttons free.
“Yes?” he answered, his voice hoarse.
“Make love to me,” she requested.
“God, yes,” he rasped, lifting her in his arms.
He laid her in the center of the rose-draped bed, peeled off his breeches and joined her. He held himself above her, drinking in the enticing picture she made with her glorious hair fanned out around her face.
“I love you, Michelle.”
“I love you.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“You, Paul. I want you. Inside me.”
He bowed to his wife’s wishes. After making love to her, Paul kissed her once more and rolled over onto his back. Michelle cuddled up beside him and sighed in contentment. She placed a light kiss on his chest.
“My mother expects us for tea,” she said with regret.
He nodded and gave her a quick squeeze. He slid away from her and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “We’d better get dressed then.”
He stood and crossed over to the dressing room which now contained their belongings. When he stepped out a few minutes later, he laughed to find Michelle still in bed.
“Come now, love,” he urged with a smile.
She turned to face him, a lazy smile curving her lips. Paul let his eyes roam over her, taking in the slight flush to her skin, the soft look in her eyes.
Pride and Fire Page 19