A Scandalous Proposition

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A Scandalous Proposition Page 15

by Wendy Soliman


  Alone in his room, Adam contrived to calm down and reason the matter through. Philippa had made it clear that she would undermine Fowler at every opportunity unless Adam resigned his commission and remained at the Court.

  Unless he remained at the Court and entered into an affair with her.

  He fumed, disgusted by the very idea. But what choice did he have? If he rejected her he’d be banished from the Court and be obliged to watch from the sidelines whilst Philippa mismanaged the Fitzroy affairs out of sheer spite. Worse, his mother would be deliberately exposed to the company of dissolutes such as King. Philippa wasn’t aware he knew the child she carried wasn’t James’s. But Adam was deeply conscious of it. And if the child proved to be a son, it would be heartbreaking to see the proud Fitzroy dynasty brought to its knees.

  He would have to watch King’s bastard being groomed to ascend to the dukedom and there wasn’t a thing he could do to prevent it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Florentina didn’t change out of the cream muslin gown she’d worn at dinner that evening. Nor did she bother to redress her hair or make any improvements to her appearance. She was still too disgruntled about Adam’s disinclination to be seen with her to make any special effort for their rendezvous. As soon as the dowager retired she made her way to the summerhouse and was sitting on its steps when he arrived.

  “I apologise if I’ve kept you waiting,” he said. “You ought to have gone inside. The door isn’t locked.”

  “It’s a beautiful evening and I was enjoying the fresh air. Look, la luna rosa.” She pointed to the moon that appeared to be glowing a soft pink. “It is very beautiful, no?”

  “Indeed.” But Adam was looking at her, it seemed, rather than the moon.

  He reached for her hand and helped her to her feet. She wasn’t wearing gloves and she felt a bolt of awareness rock her body as his long, capable fingers closed about her palm. She gazed at him in confusion, assuming from the look of astonishment that passed across his face that he’d felt it too. She snatched her hand free. This really wouldn’t do.

  Adam’s gaze lingered on her features for a protracted moment but he made no comment about the incident. Instead he ushered her inside the building and lit two candles. She took possession of the corner of the daybed, acutely aware of how matters had progressed the last time she’d occupied this particular seat.

  He arranged himself at the opposite end, appearing perfectly relaxed as he stretched his legs out in front of him. He propped his elbow on the back of the seat and angled his head, resting it in his splayed hand and keeping his gaze focused on her face. He conveyed the impression that he was accustomed to conducting late-night liaisons of this nature and had nothing more than the plight of her refugees on his mind. She, to her mortification, had barely spared them a thought. Instead her insides were churning with a whole range of carnal sensations that fragmented her senses, leaving her fraught with anticipation.

  Anticipation of what precisely? He’d invited her here in order to help resolve her problems. She had to keep reminding herself of that. Disconcertingly, being alone with Adam made her forget about everything except his compelling, perfectly disgusting and totally irresistible charm.

  “You appear preoccupied, Mrs. Smith.” His soft voice startled her. “Is there something on your mind?”

  “But of course. Is that not what we came here to discuss?”

  He smiled at her in a knowing manner, and she heartily wished that he hadn’t done so. It was a smile of gentle intimacy that lingered for too long, curling glamorously around his lips and lighting up his expression. Florentina met his gaze and immediately regretted that impulse also as he caressed her with his eyes. In a highly agitated state, she couldn’t have looked away if her life had depended upon it. She felt as though she were floating on a tide of emotion as the silence stretched unnoticed between them. It took every ounce of what strength she still possessed not to move toward him, into the circle of those strong, safe arms.

  “What did you wish to know about Dawson?” she asked, her voice sounding clipped and unfamiliar.

  “Everything you can tell me. How do you know when and where he’ll be making port?”

  “That’s the hardest part of our business, and were it not for Lord Madison’s assistance we wouldn’t have been able to manage it at all.”

  “Madison’s a good chap.”

  “Yes, and determined too. He got someone in his employ to infiltrate Reynolds’s circle in London. Reynolds is the key to everything, you see. He arranges for Dawson’s human cargo to be transferred from his ship and finds somewhere to keep them until the poor souls are sold on to bawdy houses.”

  “I see.”

  He stretched his arms above his head and smiled at her. That same, infuriatingly somnolent smile that promised so much, and yet…and yet, apart from taking her hand to help her to her feet, he’d not laid so much as a finger on her. The balance of their relationship had undergone a marked change. Two days ago he wished to bend her to his will and she’d been unwilling, had she not? But now he appeared to have no interest in her, other than a noble desire to assist her unfortunate countrymen. Naturally she was delighted to have no complications getting in the way of their shared responsibility.

  “Florentina?”

  His voice snapped her out of her reverie and she was mortified to discover that her eyes had been fixed on his thighs. Colour flooded her face.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord, what did you say?”

  “I was asking if you knew when Dawson was likely to reach these shores again.” His smile was infuriatingly smug. She harrumphed and sent him a damning glance. It was too much to hope that he’d not noticed the direction of her gaze. Pointless trying to convince him that it had been unintentional. “Presumably, if he’s just been here it will be some weeks before we can expect him again.”

  “Oh, but he hasn’t just been here.”

  “But I understood your recent trip to the capital was to help liberate the latest arrivals.”

  “Yes, it was, but apparently they’d been in this country these several weeks. We were aware they were expected but they changed their landing place at the eleventh hour.”

  “Because they knew you were likely to intercept them? They’re getting wise to you, in other words.”

  “Yes, and by the time we learned where they were being held, some of them had already been sold.” Florentina was aware of the disgust in voice. “But those remaining, the ones on the estate now, were still being negotiated for. At least we helped them.”

  “So, it’s reasonable to suppose that Dawson will be back fairly soon?”

  “Yes, his trips are becoming more frequent. In spite of our best efforts, he still manages to outwit us a lot of the time. Besides, the young people he brings in are not his only form of income. His smuggling activities are exceedingly lucrative, but I don’t care about that.” She looked up at him, sighing with frustration. “He appears to enjoy pitting his wits against us, and I don’t think we’ll be able to keep one step ahead of him for much longer. Which is another reason why I’d very much like to see him put out of business once and for all.”

  “He alters his port of call. What else does he do to frustrate your efforts?”

  “He no longer makes port in The Albatross. Instead he drops anchor offshore and brings his cargo in by wherry.”

  “Many smugglers reduce the possibility of detection by that method.”

  “Christine heard yesterday from Lord Madison’s man that he’s likely to drop anchor off Southsea within the next week or two, depending upon the weather.”

  “He’d only be able to row ashore from that location at high tide.” Adam threw his head back and closed his eyes. “High tide will be in the early hours over the next few days, which will entirely suit his purpose.” He smiled at her. “But the cover of darkness will suit ours too.”

  “It won’t be so easy to keep Reynolds in our sights if they’re using deserted landing places. Wh
en he used busy ports we could blend in more easily.”

  “No matter, I shall discuss the whole business with Madison personally tomorrow.”

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “Why, intercept the wherry when it makes for shore, of course.”

  “What if Dawson isn’t aboard?”

  “I think he will be. In his position I would want to deliver such valuable cargo personally. But, if he’s not, we’ll take charge of the wherry, row it back to The Albatross and take command of the boat.”

  “You can’t do that!” Florentina jumped to her feet, horrified by the very suggestion. “It’s far too dangerous.”

  He waggled his brows at her. “Do you have such little faith in my abilities, or dare I hope that your concern is for my physical safety?”

  “Oh, you’re sometimes infuriatingly…infuriating!”

  “Only sometimes?”

  “I dare say if you work at it, you’ll be able to make your infuriatingness a permanent facet of your character.”

  He chuckled. “Infuriatingness?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “You have a charmingly unique way of getting your point across.” Behind the laughter in his eyes she could detect unsettling intelligence. “But I’ll not be alone when I face Dawson. I dare say Madison will accompany me, or at least supply me with reliable men. And don’t forget that we’ll have the element of surprise on our side.”

  She sighed. “And I’ll be there also.”

  “Out of the question!”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ll be fully occupied and won’t be able to ensure your safety.”

  “Do you think me incapable of taking care of myself?”

  He smiled at her in a raffishly superior manner that made her want to strike him. “The Feathers,” he said mildly.

  Damn him, he had a point. “That was unfortunate.”

  “Indeed it was.” His lips quirked. “Florentina, you must trust me to do the right thing without encumbering me with the responsibility for your welfare.”

  “What’s that to you?”

  They faced one another like a pair of prize fighters. Adam’s expression was full of resolve. She suspected hers was truculent but no less determined.

  “Your welfare means a very great deal to my mother.” Ah, so it was his mother’s feelings that concerned him. Florentina ought to have known but, even so, the disappointment was intense. “There will be no place for a woman in this escapade. You’ll only be in the way.”

  “You will need me there to persuade the captives to come with us.”

  “My Spanish is quite adequate for that purpose.”

  “Ah, but you fail to take into account Dawson’s charismatic personality. We all believed he was acting in our best interests, and this will be no different. He’ll tell the girls you mean them harm and they’ll believe him.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Florentina could sense that he was moved by the logic of her argument and she pushed home her advantage. “But if a native Spanish woman is there to tell them the truth, they’ll be more likely to believe her.”

  “No, Florentina.”

  “No? What do you mean, no?”

  “I mean no, you can’t come. I don’t want you there, nor do I need you.”

  “Surely that’s for Lord Madison to decide.”

  “We can apply to him if you wish but whose side do you imagine he’ll take?”

  “Oh, you!” She swirled away from him, infuriated by his intransigence. “I suppose you gentlemen will close ranks against me.”

  She threw a scathing glance over her shoulder. He responded with such a gentle smile that she felt her insides dissolve, and her anger along with it.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re charming when you’re riled?” He reached out and touched her cheek but she slapped his hand away.

  “Don’t touch me! You are as bad as—” She broke off, almost having blurted out Lord King’s name in her agitation.

  “As bad as whom, Florentina?” Adam frowned. “Has someone overset you? What’s happened? Tell me.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “No.” He regarded her closely, a scowl marring his rugged features. “There’s something, I sensed it almost at once. Tell me what bothers you, my dear. If anyone’s dared to insult you, I need to be aware of it.”

  “Nothing’s happened.” She resisted the compelling urge to unburden herself, scared that he might do something rash like calling Lord King out if he knew the truth. He was already putting his life on the line because of her. Because he was honourable and wanted to do the right thing. She could not, would not, ask him to do anything else that placed him in danger. “I’m merely vexed to be excluded from the excitement.”

  “That sort of excitement is greatly overrated. Take it from one who knows. There’s usually an inordinate amount of waiting about, a few minutes of swift, decisive action, and then it’s all over.”

  “You make it sound so mundane.”

  “It usually is.”

  “I’m no stranger to such situations. I was a spy, remember.”

  “So you were. Did you find that exciting?”

  She tilted her head, considering the question. “It was tedious for much of the time, truth to tell. But unlike battle, where the lines are definitely drawn, with spying one must be constantly on one’s guard.”

  “So I would imagine.”

  “Fouché’s police have eyes and ears everywhere. Fortunately, I was able to ingratiate myself with one or two and stuff them up with false information.”

  “Which would come back to you when it proved to be false.”

  She glared at him. “Do I look like an imbecile?”

  “No, m’dear, you—”

  “I was just an ignorant local woman, telling them what I’d heard. By the time they discovered it was false I was long gone.”

  “So I should hope.”

  “We were sheltering a number of English soldiers after a skirmish on the French border went wrong. Fouché’s men knew they were in the area.” She lifted her shoulders. “I managed to convince them to search elsewhere and, whilst they were looking the other way, we were able to get the men to safety.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Well, more or less.”

  “Modesty doesn’t become you, Florentina.”

  He reached for her again, and this time she couldn’t bring herself to move out of range of his questing fingers. She stood, rooted to the spot, as they slowly traced the outline of her lips. Excitement ricocheted through her, even though he was barely touching her.

  “And now only one thing remains.” He spoke in a soft throaty drawl, playing with an escaped curl, his knuckles brushing against her shoulder as he twirled it about his fingers.

  “What is that?”

  “I require your promise that you’ll not attempt to take matters into your own hands. Do something rash just because you’re disappointed not to be involved.”

  “How can I when you’ve taken complete control?”

  He chuckled. “I’ve seen flashes of your Latin temperament and don’t trust you to do as you’re told unless you first give your word.”

  “You insult me.”

  “No, sweetheart, I rather believe I begin to understand you.”

  How had she not noticed that his fingers were now creeping across the top of her bodice? She let out a slow sigh, barely aware that she’d moved a little closer to him. Too mesmerized by the sensual cadence of his voice to care about remaining aloof.

  “You don’t know me at all.” She was surprised to discover that the distance separating them had shrunk and that his leg was now brushing against her skirts.

  “I know a very great deal about you.”

  “What do you know?” She spoke in a whisper, the words barely audible as she forced them past the obstacle constricting her throat.

  “Well now, let me see.” His arm circled her waist and pulled her towa
rd him. “I know that you possess great courage and that you care desperately about the welfare of your family.” His lips brushed against her temple. “I know that you’re willing to risk your life because you can’t bear to think of your countrywomen being sold into prostitution.” The fingers tracing her bodice had moved lower. “I know you loved your husband but didn’t really know him because you spent very little time together.”

  She gasped. He captured the breath as it left her mouth by covering her lips with his own and drawing it into his lungs.

  “I know that you feel guilty about the desire I’ve awoken in you.” His lips were still teasing hers as he spoke. “And that you’re confused by your feelings when you’re with me because you think you’re being disloyal to your husband’s memory.” He gently nipped the pulse beating out of control at the base of her throat. “How am I doing?”

  She gulped. “You see a great deal.”

  “You’re an open book to me.”

  “That’s hardly a compliment.”

  “You want me to pay you compliments?”

  “Do you remember how?” She flashed an impudent smile. “Perhaps you’re out of practice.”

  “I’ve never had to deal with such a disrespectful female before. That’s certainly undeniable.”

  “That’s better. Now you’ve remembered how to say nice things.”

  His lips twitched. “Look at me, Florentina.”

  “I can hardly avoid doing so since you’re holding me so tight.”

  “And why do you think that is?”

  “You drank too much wine earlier and need my support to remain on your feet?”

  “Is that what passes for good manners in Spanish society?”

  “Do you always avoid the issue by answering a question with another question?”

  “Do you?”

  Florentina giggled. “Don’t imagine that you’ll get the better of me by bandying words. I fully intend to be there when you confront Dawson, you know.”

 

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