by Cheryl Bolen
"I didn't."
Lady Sophia shrugged. "I didn't either until after we were married."
William shrugged. "I'm hopelessly tamed now. I was issued an ultimatum. It was either my beautiful Isadore or my clandestine activities."
"I understand how Lady Sophia must have felt." A flicker of admiration in her eyes, Emma looked at William. "Your clandestine activities, though, sound extraordinarily exciting."
Lady Sophia glared. "There is nothing exciting about having people wanting to kill you."
"I do understand that," Emma said in a low voice, squeezing Adam's hand.
The solemnity of her words made them think of her own brush with men who wanted her dead. None of their party spoke for a few moments.
"Allow me to ask you this," Emma finally said, a pleasant lilt to her voice, "have any of you ever ridden in a mail coach?"
Each said, "No."
A while later, Emma said, "I do feel wretched that Lady Sophia, Adam, and I couldn't be in Stenson Keyes to support Nick."
"It's like the entire journey and the terrible experiences we endured were all for naught," Adam said.
"Oh, but they weren't all terrible experiences," his wife said. "Except for that one night, I've had so much fun." She sighed. "I suppose it's the most fun I've ever had."
Everyone in the coach smiled at her.
"My wife has not only led a dull life, but she's also given to speak in hyperbole." Adam smiled down at her.
"Emma's cheerful countenance is one of the things that makes her so charming."
Charming. Yes, that word did suit his wife.
"Thank you." Emma's voice almost squeaked.
"I'm very thankful you two have been so kind to my wife."
Emma started to yawn, put her head on his shoulders, and went to sleep a short time later. Her closeness and the motion of the carriage brought a contentment unlike anything he'd ever experienced.
He continued to peer out the window. Dusk fell subtly, then dusk fell away to a curtain of darkness.
They stopped for the night at the same inn they'd patronized on the northern leg of their journey. On their last visit, Nick had gone ahead and instructed his man to reserve the rooms for this date.
They were all exhausted from being cramped into their carriages for so many hours. Dinner was good and plentiful, and conversation was almost non-existent.
After dinner, they all said their good-nights and dispersed to their respective chambers.
Once Adam and Emma were in theirs, she turned around to face him, her expression solemn. She drew a breath. "I know I need practice, and I'm not very good at it, but I should love above everything for you to kiss me."
It was as if an avalanche of pent-up desires crashed down upon him. His whole body trembling, he drew her into his arms and kissed her ravenously. Her breath was as ragged as his when she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around him, giving every indication that she was enjoying this as much as he.
Letting out a deep breath, he released the pressure of his lips and nibbled tenderly at her mouth. Little whimpers of pleasure broke from her. She moved even closer. He felt as if he could explode from his want of this woman, his wife. Their mouths opened to one another—a prelude to that most intimate connection.
She did not kiss like a maiden. Even when his tongue slid into the warmth of her mouth, she did not recoil but welcomed it as greedily as a babe suckling its mother's breast.
"You need no instruction in kissing," he eventually murmured. "Your kisses are perfection." He sighed. He wanted her so much, but did she want him in the same way? He did not know how to ask. He did not want to offend her.
"I have enjoyed it very much." Her voice was as breathless as one who'd been . . . chopping wood!
He cupped his hand at her pretty little face. "I could never want any other woman for my wife." It wasn't a declaration of love, but it was close. He had never told a woman he loved her. He thought he was, indeed, falling in love with Emma, but he could never utter those words until he was certain.
Her torso pressed against him. God help me, he thought.
"Do you recall the vows we said before the priest at St. George's on our wedding day?" she whispered.
"What part?"
"The part about my body would be yours and yours would be mine."
She does want me!
Their eyes locked. He trembled so much and his breath was so labored he wasn't sure he could speak. "Does that mean you would not object if I were to . . . well, be your husband in every respect—just as the priest read?"
"I would not object."
He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Their bed.
Chapter 21
He hadn't said it last night, but Emma knew Adam loved her. She now knew what it felt like to be cherished. Each caress, each kiss demonstrated his tender feelings toward her. She knew, too, what it felt like to be a wife. She knew what it was to be in love.
But she had not uttered those words to him, either. He must say it first. She had already made all the advances.
On this, the last day of their journey, they sat very close in the carriage, and neither she nor her husband seemed able to keep their hands off one another. She could not remove the smile from her face or the effervescence from her heart. She could shout her love of Adam from the spire of every church between here and London. What had she ever done to deserve such happiness?
Just as on the first day of their journey, she did not want this to come to an end. His house was awfully large, and as lovely as it was, she preferred the intimacy of this coach. It kept them so close, a sheet of paper could not have wedged between them.
"Are you not looking forward to being home?" Lady Sophia asked her.
Emma shook her head. "I have enjoyed every minute of this excursion—except for that one horrid night." Her gaze dropped to the red circles of oozing flesh at her wrists. They were healing. She wondered if Adam's tender kisses last night had aided in their visible recovery.
Even though that one night had been horrendous, all her physical and mental suffering was obliterated when Adam had drawn her into his arms. He had then given her to understand that losing her had made him realize how important she was to him.
Every second of her misery had been worth it for it solidified their love for one another.
"What could you possibly find to enjoy about being cooped up like this for days on end?" Lady Sophia asked.
"Many things. I acquired the experience of staying in an inn. Because it was a new experience for me, the anticipation was every bit as exciting as the actual stay."
The expression on William's face was one of incredulousness. "You mean you really enjoyed staying at an inn?"
Adam chuckled. "Something as lackluster as building supplies being drawn down the Strand inordinately excites my wife."
"It's because I'd spent all of my life in a village of less than one hundred people."
"Oh, dear," Lady Sophia exclaimed. "That certainly would limit the marriage pool."
Emma laughed. "Indeed. I had but one suitor, and the poor fellow was exceedingly dimwitted. He gave me a fright when he told me he'd proclaimed his love for me by carving into the Queen Elizabeth tree on the village common. I was relieved when I saw it for he misspelled my name."
"How could one misspell Emma?" Lady Sophia asked, her brows lowered.
"I-M-A."
They all laughed.
"Pray," William asked, "what is the Queen Elizabeth tree?"
"The queen was supposed to have planted a tree in our village green on her progress north, but somehow she bypassed Upper Barrington—as is commonly done. Since they did not want to waste a good oak, one of my Lippincott ancestors went ahead and planted it, and it's been called the Elizabeth tree ever since."
"I would say," Lady Sophia said, "that it's most fortunate you left Nothing Barrington, came to London, and swept Adam off his feet."
It pleased Emma that they thought h
er marriage to Adam had begun as a love match. She hoped with all her heart it truly was one now. Emma tucked her arm into his. "I am very fortunate." She had started to say she was the most fortunate girl in all of England, but her husband would have been sure to chide her for speaking in hyperbole. But she most certainly did believe she was the most fortunate girl not only in England but in all the universe.
Because of the fair weather and the good roads, they reached London before dark. Before they left the carriage, Adam stealthily peered from his coach window to see if he could tell if someone was watching their house. He hadn't told them what he was doing, but Emma had come to know him very well—as he had come to know her.
This blending of minds, too, was part of being married. There was not a part of being married that she didn't enjoy.
"Any solo men lurking about, eyeing our house?" she asked. It was the first time she had ever referred to the Curzon Street house as our house. Today was the first time she felt as if she truly was Adam's wife.
"Not that I can tell."
They said their farewells to William and Lady Sophia and climbed from the coach. "We're back at our home, my dear one."
He'd said it! Everything that had been his was now ours. She felt as if she walked on air as she strolled on her husband's arm to their front door.
* * *
The following morning, after they awakened in her bedchamber within each others' arms, Adam told her he had a very busy day.
"I must go to the bank, but before that, we shall go to Emmott's. It's been almost a week since we left those handwriting samples there. We ought to have an answer now."
"I know the answer already."
"I believe I do, too." Their eyes met. "You, by the way, are coming with me wherever I go." He climbed from the bed and began to get dressed.
She sat up in bed and watched him. "As much as I loathe James Ashburnham, I shall have to be grateful to him for keeping me by the person with whom I most want to share my life." There! She'd said nearly the same words to him that he'd said to her the first night of their lovemaking.
"You just haven't been around me long enough. You'll be glad when Ashburnham's brought to justice and you can be rid of me."
She pouted. "I almost wish he'd never be brought to justice."
A heated look on his face, he crossed the bedchamber, half dressed, and drew her into his arms, groaning. "Do you have any idea of the effect you have upon me?" He hungrily crushed his lips to hers.
Of this, too, she knew she would never tire.
* * *
As much as she had enjoyed their four days of carriage travel with William and Lady Sophia, Emma preferred being alone with her husband in their coach. This morning he pulled her onto his lap, and they partook of whispery, nibbly kisses between Mayfair and Holborn. They did not even mind when their carriage came to a complete stop for several minutes on the Strand, owing to the snarl of conveyances.
Neither irate hackney drivers, lads hawking hot chestnuts, nor the clatter of glass breaking could detract from her enjoyment of this short journey across London. The lashing of wind outside on this cool day only contributed to the sense of well-being she felt ensconced within the coach—with the man she loved.
As they neared Mr. Emmott's establishment, she saddened. It was so close to where her uncle's company was located. He must have ridden down this same street many times. She could not think of Uncle Simon and not feel cheated that she'd not gotten to meet him, angered that his life had been cut short.
Before they left the carriage, Adam buttoned her warm pelisse almost to her chin, and she placed her hands in the ermine muff. He, too, bundled up. "It's a blustery day. I'll not have you taking lung fever," he said.
She hadn't felt so cared for since she was a small girl.
In Mr. Emmott's office, they were once again greeted in a most enthusiastic manner. "I am honored that you've graced my office, Mr. and Mrs. Birmingham. I was going to come see you today, sir," he said to Adam. "Please, have a seat. I wasn't sure if you'd be at the bank. Since you've gotten married, it seems you're spending less time at your establishment."
Adam nodded. "I pray my business is not suffering."
"Never that! It's the most successful bank in the kingdom. Something built on a great foundation will not crumble."
"We have actually been in Yorkshire this week to help my brother's electioneering."
"Yes, I read about Nicholas's candidacy. He will bring a great deal to Parliament."
"If he's elected," Adam said.
"The best man has to win, and this, most certainly, will be Nicholas."
"In our absence have you had any communication from Ashburnham about our challenge to Simon Hastings' will?"
Mr. Emmott shook his head. "But . . . I do have some hopefully welcome information to impart to you."
Adam's brows hiked. "About those handwriting samples?"
"Yes."
Emma sat up straighter, hardly able to contain her curiosity.
"All of your suspicions have been confirmed."
She and Adam exchanged happy glances.
"According to our expert, that address label does contain all the descenders that are found in the forged will. You will remember, they were incongruous with the rest of the handwriting in the will."
"And the letter purportedly from Faukes?" Adam asked.
"Forged. My expert confirmed your suspicions. Though it was a good forgery, again, the descenders were identical to those found in the address label. They did not match those that were verified to have been written by Mr. Faukes."
"Then all of this points to the fact that the will was forged by James Ashburnham," Adam said.
"Indeed it does."
"What's next?"
"Unless we can persuade him to drop his claim, I will try to bring him to trial."
Her eyes rounded. "Won't that take years?"
Emmott nodded. "Not only that, it will also eat up moneys the will would have provided."
"Nevertheless," Adam said, "I should like you to inform Ashburnham we have evidence against him and are prepared to litigate this matter."
Mr. Emmott nodded. "The letter will be drawn up and delivered to him today."
"I hate to bring this up," Adam said, "but we believe Mr. Ashburnham may have poisoned my wife's uncle. As much as I dislike the thought, perhaps we should have Hastings' body exhumed and tested."
"Proving her uncle was poisoned will not prove who administered the poison," Mr. Emmott said.
"That's true," Emma concurred. "I'm not sure we should go through with that at this time." She sighed. "I'm not sure I can bear it."
Adam took her hand and squeezed it.
* * *
Shortly after they arrived at the bank, where Adam introduced Emma to all his employees, Nick came. "I thought you'd be here," he said to Adam.
"And I knew you'd not be able to stay away from the Exchange. Is there anything you need to discuss with me?" Adam asked.
"No. I was early, so I thought I'd come and say hello." He eyed Emma. "If you need to catch up with your employees, I can stay a few minutes and chat with your charming wife."
Adam nodded. "Thanks. I do need to speak to Johnson." His gaze lingered on her for a moment before he walked away.
"Won't you sit by me on that sofa?" Nick asked.
Sometimes it seemed funny for her to hear Nick speak. Because he looked so much like Adam, she thought they would sound alike, but they didn't. Nick spoke much faster, and the tone of his voice was entirely different than her husband's.
"I was hoping to get you alone," he said.
Her brows lowered. "Is something wrong?"
He shrugged. "We are all, quite naturally, concerned about you and Adam. You can't possibly live a normal life as long as that threat lingers against you. I know Adam's nearly sick with worry."
"As much as I adore being with my husband every minute, I know the situation is unsustainable."
"William and I c
ame up with what we thought was a solution, but Adam became enraged when we brought it up with him."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Because he said it would endanger you."
"Go on."
"We believe that you could be a lure for this Ashburnham."
"I believe I already am."
"But with Adam constantly at your side, it's not likely Ashburnham will ever make a move."
"He must be brought to justice. What do you and William propose?"
"Adam needs to let you appear to walk about London alone. You wouldn't really be alone. The Birminghams have a creditable army of highly skilled men who would watch you at all times. They can be disguised as anything from a chimney sweep to a hackney driver."
"Let me ask you this. If Lady Fiona were in a situation comparable to mine, would you be able to allow her to walk about London alone? Would you entrust her safety to those Birmingham soldiers?"
He did not respond for a moment. "I don't know if I could."
"I assure you, Adam feels the same. He doesn't believe anyone could protect me as well as he can."
A slow smile hitched across Nick's face. "I knew the first night I met you that Adam was going to fall hard for you. It just happened faster than I thought."
"I was blessed neither with fortune nor great beauty, but for some unaccountable reason, I have been inordinately blessed to have won Adam's affection."
"Fiona and I have enjoyed watching you two fall in love."
He went to rise.
"Don't go. We need to discuss this plan of yours. I am most willing to use myself as bait. I completely trust Adam to see to my welfare. The difficulty is in finding some way in which he will be able to watch me without Ashburnham or his hired hand seeing him." She looked up at Nick. "For Adam will never consent to leaving my safety in the hands of others."
"I do understand. I couldn't let Fiona out of my sight under such circumstances."
"I'll talk to William. He'll know what to do. He spent years on the Continent eluding men intent on killing him."
As soon as he referred to William, he came strolling into the bank.
Nick told him Emma was willing to go ahead with their plan if they could think of a way that would allow Adam to observe her at all times without being detected.