Impulsively she reached out to him, forcing him to sit beside her so she might caress the anxious lines on his brow. “I feel lovely. And happy. And other things.” Her smile erased the lines on his face, and her touch wandered to his temples.
Drake grinned and removed the mantilla from her hair. “Have you no word for those ‘other things’?”
“You are the one with words, my lord. Shall I paint you a picture?” Teasingly she traced the outline of his lips with her finger.
Drake threaded his fingers into her hair and cupped her jaw in his palm. “Even you could not paint a picture such as the one I see now, all copper hair and ivory satin and frail lace. You are beautiful, Lady Sherburne, and I would not hurt you for the world. Perhaps we should postpone our wedding night until you are stronger.”
Sliding her hands behind his neck, Eileen applied gentle pressure, forcing him to bend lower until she could meet him halfway. With a sigh she touched her lips to his and felt the eagerness of his response. She drew away tauntingly, kissing the corners of his mouth and all along his jaw, everywhere but where he wanted.
“Have you tired of me so easily, then?” she whispered, knowing by the way his arms tightened behind her back that she mocked the truth.
“I will never tire of you, princess,” Drake murmured as he bent a kiss to the sensitive hollow behind her ear. “But I must protect and cherish you so the years ahead of us will be many. I am no greedy child needing all my wealth today.”
The heat of his breath along her skin sent shivers of anticipation through her, and she pressed her plea, winding her hands in his hair and tracing kisses down his jaw. “Like good silver, I improve with age and use. You have been neglecting me. Have I lost my shine?”
Drake laughed out loud, pulling her into his arms and crushing her against his chest. “Your Irish tongue will find its own with practice, my sweet, and I can assure you, you will never lack for polishing.” He bent to kiss her nape, then nibbled a path to her earlobe. “The day is still bright. Would you not prefer to walk amongst the flowers first?”
Heart pounding erratically as his kisses made jelly of her spine, Eileen shook her head in emphatic no.
“I fear I will have months of flowers and only hours of you. Don’t deny me what precious time remains.”
“No, my love, I shall never deny you anything. I only wish to be certain I have not forced you to a decision you may regret. If a child should come of what we do now, he may be born into this world a fatherless pauper. Are you willing to chance such a burden?”
Eileen laughed, suddenly freed of the fear that he had tired of her. He only protected her, as usual. Grateful for his poor male ignorance, she showered kisses upon him. “Our child will be born a man of letters and a singer of songs. Love me and let me prove the truth of it.”
“You are a heartless twit, my dear,” Drake murmured as he started on the tiny row of buttons at her back. “Did you know twins run in the family?”
Eileen giggled as his other hand tugged at the hem of her skirt and insinuated itself along the length of her stockinged calf. “You lie. There are no twins in your family.”
The back of her bodice gaped open and Drake triumphantly ran his hand up and down her bare back. She wore no chemise, no corset, and his gaze took on a wicked gleam.
“That shows how little you know of family history, my dear. Shall I begin your instructions now? The Monsards’ mother was my mother’s twin. I have two uncles who reside in London you have yet to meet. They, too, are twins, on my father’s side. Then there is grandfather Neville. . .”
Eileen laughed and gasped as the satin of her bodice fell to her waist at the same time he tumbled her back against the covers. “You are telling stories, Drake!” she protested as his hand slid up her leg, finding no impediment.
Leering wickedly, Drake pinched her tender bottom. “And you have dressed with me in mind, wanton woman! You will see where this leads you when you have two squalling brats at your breast.”
Eileen squealed as he bent to give her an example of her dire fate, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of her breast. When she wriggled in protest, she discovered his trap. With one hand beneath her, she could go neither forward nor back without enmeshing herself further in his eager hold. She shuddered as his teeth tugged at a sensitive nipple while his fingers slid along the moist cleft between her thighs.
Drake chuckled as she pulled helplessly at his hair. “You will be well polished before this day is done, my silver enchantress. Come, rid me of these damned clothes.”
Their garments melted to the floor in rich profusion. The sunlight from the window played along the golden hairs of Drake’s chest as he bent over her. Eileen sank her fingers deep into the powerful muscles of his back as he kneeled between her thighs, pulling him down until their breaths mingled and his tongue robbed her of all resistance. In rich, golden contentment they came together, and the sunshine vibrated with their love.
Afterward, lying in Drake’s arms and staring out the window, Eileen could still feel his seed warm inside her, and the enormity of what they had done was overwhelming. Sitting with his back propped against the head of the bed, Drake contented himself with exploring the curves and valleys that were now his alone to touch.
Only Eileen knew that his child—or children, as he would have it—had already begun to grow beneath those places where his hand strayed. In the coupling they had done without thought or planning, a child had been created, a child that might never know his father or his home.
Even with the warm sunlight pouring from the window, Eileen shivered. Instantly Drake reached for the blanket that had fallen to the floor in their lovemaking.
Eileen stopped his hand and settled more comfortably against his side, enjoying the liberty of touching and seeing without fear or darkness. Her hand strayed to the powerful muscles of his chest and played in the golden mat of hair there.
“When will you go?” she whispered, needing to know, dreading it.
Drake’s hand wound itself in thick lengths of copper. “If you are well, it must be soon. The barristers have pleaded postponement one more time, promising that I will appear to testify. But I cannot leave you here unless I know you will be well and happy.”
Eileen watched his eyes and touch the small dent in his chin. “I will be more comfortable here than in Versailles. You know me too well. But what will you tell the court that the barristers cannot say for you? Why must you give yourself up to prison to prove your innocence?”
“My alibi can only be proven by witnesses who know me under an assumed name. They can only testify that they saw me hundreds of miles from Culloden if they can identify me in court. I must go, my love.”
“Where were you that you must travel under an assumed name?” This piece of knowledge had eluded her.
Drake hesitated, then with a sigh admitted, “In Ireland.”
Eileen sat up with astonishment. “Ireland? Before your wedding? You must be mad.”
Lifting his gaze to meet hers honestly, he answered, “Crazed, admittedly. I could not let you marry Michael, so I thought to find evidence to have your uncle imprisoned. Then you would need not marry at all.”
A sinking feeling entered the pit of her stomach. “And what did you find?”
“That your parents practiced Catholicism and lived in danger of losing their lands and rights. That your uncle, when in his cups, often threatened to expose them. That the woman who was your nurse disappeared the day after your father’s murder. She might possibly have witnessed it, but I had no time to trace her. I returned to England after receiving word of the battle at Culloden.”
Drake watched the shadow of her eyes with sorrow. He had meant to help but had only harmed. He did not think she yet understood that he could not reveal his whereabouts without arousing de Lacy’s alarm and endangering her. He had spent these months stalling for time not only for his sake, but for hers. His barristers had hired men to scout for the evidence of murder and treach
ery he had not been able to obtain. If they had not gathered enough evidence to imprison de Lacy, he could not reveal his whereabouts in court without endangering Eileen. But not to reveal his whereabouts would be to endanger Diane and his tenants. The line he walked was a slender one, but he would not have her know it.
Eileen touched his jaw. “Thank you.”
Drake had expected anything but that. She should have railed at him for his foolishness, cursed him for interfering where he had no right, but she did none of these. Drake studied her small, heart-shaped face with wonder and the first stirrings of realization that he had married rightly for all the wrong reasons.
But the words that came to his tongue he swallowed. He had no right to put a claim on her emotions when he might not return to hold them. Let her think all that went between them was this physical attraction, and she would less likely be hurt in the end.
So the words she most wanted to hear went unsaid except in the whisper of his kisses.
Chapter 20
France, July-October, 1746
Wearing a leather jerkin over a cotton shirt and rough homespun breeches borrowed from the gardener, Drake pressed a parting kiss against Eileen’s forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gazed upon his odd attire and knew the moment had come. She caressed the rigid jaw hovering above her, and once laughing eyes grew darker with pain.
“I hate to leave you. Are you certain you are well?” Drake murmured, sitting on the bed’s edge as he traced the line of her jaw.
If she made no quick movement, the morning nausea stayed calm, and Eileen responded in all truthfulness, “I am well, and you leave me in good hands. Do not concern yourself with me now, but with your future.”
“I promise, whatever the verdict, I will find some way to return to you. In the event that we must be parted long, should I send Sir John to you?”
This was his only admission that he might not triumph, that he might be locked behind bars or worse, and Eileen met his gaze bravely. “It might be safer for him if he does not know. If you have the chance, beg my apologies and assure him I am well.”
“Surely de Lacy does not have the power to trace you through your letters? There can be no harm in writing.” Drake frowned.
He did not need to know what she had done, the danger she had brought upon herself by revealing her secrets. She would take care of herself and the child somehow. He must concentrate on winning his own life. Eileen hid her grief behind a smile.
“Perhaps you are right, but I would know that the Summervilles forgive what I have done before intruding upon them again. You must do as you think best when the time comes.”
Drake bent a quick kiss to her lips. “All will be well, my love. I will return and we will begin on those twins I promised you.”
Eileen laughed, running her hand over his powerful shoulder and down his arm, memorizing this feel of him. “Twins, then, my lord. One for you and one for Diane. Send her my love, if you can.”
“I will.” Catching her up in his arms, Drake plied her mouth with one long, sweet kiss. Then setting her back against the pillows, he strode out without looking back.
Eileen turned her face into the pillow and wept the tears she had so bravely held from him. But for her own foolishness she could have followed. She had only herself to blame, and the knowledge did not ease her anguish. He was gone.
By September Eileen’s pregnancy had become obvious and the inhabitants of the small world behind brick walls fluttered protectively around her wherever she went. If she wished to paint on the hillside, the younger novices would find a need to search for herbs among the trees. If she set up her easel in a corner of the garden, an older nun would find a sunny spot nearby to do her mending. Their concern was touching, and Eileen learned to accept it as she had accepted Quigley’s surveillance. They meant well, and she had nowhere else to go.
Upon occasion her mother appeared as bodyguard. For the most part she remained silent, but her anxiety for her daughter often overrode her good intentions. Finding Eileen on a bench beside a dying bed of larkspur, Elizabeth appropriated the space beside her.
“What is wrong?”
Eileen glanced around the cloistered garden but no one was there to observe. “How is it that you speak when the others do not?”
A mischievous grin flirted at the corners of Elizabeth’s mouth. “Because they are very, very good, and I am not. Sister Agnes Marie despairs of me. That is the reason I am not yet one of them. She doubts my dedication.”
In the sunlight, the lines around her mother’s eyes could be seen, but otherwise she still appeared as lovely and youthful as Eileen had remembered. Despite the silence between them, the bond was still strong, and Eileen felt no oddity in sharing secrets.
“Perhaps you ought to return to the outside world.”
Elizabeth looked startled, then shook her head. “There is naught for me out there but trouble and woe. It is better here.”
Eileen heard a hint of doubt, but she understood. Outside these walls they must contend with de Lacy and the trouble he could wreak on them and their loved ones. She was more vulnerable now than ever before.
“If you were to go to the authorities—” Eileen suggested, but her mother’s emphatic shake of the head silenced her.
“You were too young to understand. I cannot live through that again. Nothing will bring back Richard. I am only grateful that I have been given this chance to be with you. Your husband is kind to think of leaving you here.”
Eileen played with a fading blue flower. “Drake knows me too well. He thinks to protect me from myself as well as others. But the child grows more real with each passing day. I can feel his movement, and, too soon, he must become part of the world. I cannot hide him here forever. Somehow, I must deal with de Lacy.”
Her mother closed her eyes and bent her head, and Eileen thought perhaps she prayed for guidance, but a moment later she shook her head vigorously. “No. That is for your husband to do. When his lands and title are returned, he must go to the authorities. Once Peter is behind bars, witnesses will come forward, I promise. Then you and the child will be safe.”
Eileen had learned long ago that nothing came that easily. Still, she did not need to worry her mother. The sun had lost its warmth, however, and Eileen rose, smoothing her gown over the mound of her belly. The growing weight reassured her, bringing her closer to Drake somehow.
Elizabeth observed her daughter’s growing pear-shaped figure with curiosity. “When is the baby due?”
“Not until long after Christmas.” If Drake did not return soon, the babe would be born behind convent walls. In another month or two she would not be able to travel at all.
Elizabeth looked dubious. “You are much too small to be carrying so great a weight already. Could you possibly have your dates confused?”
Eileen patted the mound proudly. “Culloden was in April, Mother. You are free to count for yourself. I shall have to make a Jacobite of him if they do not free Drake soon.”
“You should hear from him soon, should you not?” she inquired anxiously.
Eileen lied and gave the easiest answer. “He will write when all is well.”
All was not well at all. For the first time in the months since the massive doors of the Tower had closed behind him, Drake had a visitor other than his lawyer. He met Sir John’s cold gaze without emotion and accepted the older man’s refusal to shake his hand with equanimity.
He gestured toward the hard cot and the straight-backed chair beside it. “Have a seat, sir. I regret that I cannot send for refreshments.”
Sir John remained standing. The bitterness in the young marquess’s voice was new but understandable. Still, he felt no softening of emotion as he observed Drake’s vitality forced to find outlet in leaning against the wall, flexing his unused muscles.
“Where is she, Sherburne?” The baronet relied on his usual direct tactics.
“I left her well and safe. As I wrote you, she sends her apologies, but it is
mine that must be extended. I cannot expect you to forgive what I have done.” Drake wished for the freedom to pace the floor, but Sir John’s large frame limited the small space to a few steps.
“I do not need apologies. I need my niece. Her aunt has been distraught since she left. Women always fear the worst, but you must admit her fears are justified. Just tell me where to find her.”
Drake did not hesitate in his reply. He preferred to leave Eileen in safety until he could come for her, but the chances of that grew slimmer with each passing day. The choice now lay with her uncle.
“She is with her mother. My barristers have assured me that all charges of aiding my escape have been dismissed against her, so it should be safe for her to return if that is what you think best. I fear my reputation will make her persona non grata in society, though.” Drake crossed his arms and continued leaning against the wall. He knew that ultimately Eileen would be the one to decide what she wished to do, but he would not keep her uncle from her any longer.
Sir John made a curt nod that might have passed for gratitude. “I will go to her directly. You will understand why I cannot express my thanks for your doing the honorable thing by her.”
In the shadows Drake’s gaze grew bleak. “Marriage to a proclaimed traitor is certainly not the fate I wished for her.”
Sir John strode to the tiny cell window overlooking the Thames and stared out. “For that reason alone I will do all in my power to see your name cleared. For that, and your sister. But in the meantime I have told no one of the marriage. I must protect Eileen in any way I can.”
Drake nodded his understanding, but the pain in his heart did not acknowledge logic. He wanted the world to know she was his, wanted to bring her home to his family, but he must hide behind this mask of civilization and deny what was his. It went against the grain, but as long as he was behind bars and Sir John was not, he had no other choice.
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