As it was, everything appeared the same even to Abigail. Calvin had kept himself an arm's width apart from her as they moved from the carriage to the house. He hadn't spoken save to tell the others of the accident, and as he carried Abby up the stairs, his hold was less intimate than it had been before they spent the evening together.
Abby frowned as she dipped her washcloth into the water then held the dripping cloth above where her bent knee broke the surface. It was red, slightly swollen still, and the hot water stung at first. Carefully, she laid the washcloth across her knee and sighed when there was a slight break in the pain.
Only when she closed her eyes did the dark thoughts begin to register. Perhaps Calvin wished the events of the night before hadn't taken place. That was impossible, though, for he hardly seemed ill at ease at the time. That, of course, had been before he knew the woman he was making love to was a charlatan and a thief.
Abigail's lashes lifted. Uneven tendrils of her hair had slipped from the loose knot she had put them in; their tips were dampened in the water as she bowed her head. It was a difficult task, allowing herself regret at having something that had been so blissful end so quickly.
She did not hear the bedchamber door open, only the dull thud of the wood settling back into the jamb. She frowned at her reflection in the water, lifted her chin, then gasped.
"Calvin!" She yanked the washcloth from her knee to hold open at her breasts.
His dark gaze moved slowly from her barely covered skin to her flushed features. He lifted a brow. "I need to speak with you."
Abigail's disbelief rose as he continued into the room, pausing to scratch the spot above Harry's nose on the way to the bathtub. "Can it not wait?"
"Are you shy, Abby?" Calvin's lips suddenly curled. "Not the sophisticated air of a woman partaking of an illicit affair." He straddled her chair backward, breeches going tight across muscled thighs she had been much too eager to wrap her legs about less than twelve hours before. His gaze held hers, all too amused. "Shall I point out it is nothing I have not seen-or touched-before?"
But it was. Abigail's gaze moved quickly, darting between the man seated near the bathtub to where her bare knee broke through the water's surface. The room had been all shadows last night, and Calvin's intent gaze-as far as she recalled-had spent most of the time reading her expressions as if they were food and he a starving man. His large hands, calloused from working on her estate, had cupped her breasts, run across the skin of her arms, and gone so far as to tightly grip her bottom, but they had never strayed so far as her legs. He had not felt the ragged scars that marred the one or seen the red and puckered flesh so unlike the pale skin around it.
Meeting his eyes again, she shifted slightly, trying to pull her leg down further.
Calvin's brows drew together, his smile slipping away. "You want me to leave?"
It was much the same tone he had used before, when she had been sprawled on her back and breathing heavily, her skin damp with his and her own sweat.
"How is your leg?"
She had grinned at the dark ceiling, something reassuring in the weight of his arm thrown across her naked waist and his ragged breathing fanning her ear. "What leg?"
"What was it you needed to speak to me about?" Feeling painfully self-conscious with only the thin washcloth covering her torso from view, she casually crossed her arms across her chest and wrapped her fingers about her shoulders. She pressed her cheek to the back of one hand, hoping, as she peered up at Calvin, she looked demure and not like an insane woman.
"I'm leaving for London tomorrow."
"Oh," she breathed, feeling her heart sink. He had, apparently, been lying when they were at the Hutchinson horse farm. "Oh."
"I will be back, Abby." He scowled as if he could read her mind and was rather annoyed by her lack of faith. "I have some personal errands I must run.
"Might I be of help in any way?" She could have sworn that the force with which her heart again lifted reverberated through her ribs and against the arms crossed at her chest.
"No. There are a few loose ends I must attend to. 11
Abigail's lashes lowered thoughtfully. There was something almost cryptic about his tone.
"If there is anything you need before I go in the morning, let me know." He gently nudged Harry away with his boot when the rabbit started sniffing his laces as one might a fine wine. "I know I still have to get the damned wheel for the carriage, Timothy needs my help with the horses, and I don't like you having to go up and down the stairs alone."
"We'll be fine without you, Calvin." Abigail chuckled, but instantly wished she had chosen different words when Calvin's features went grim and his gaze cold. It was surely impossible, but it almost appeared as if she had hurt his feelings.
"Yes," he cleared his throat, rising from the chair, `well-"
"I will miss you, though," Abigail said quickly, lifting her chin.
He stopped in turning toward the door, glancing back at her over one broad shoulder. "It will only be one day."
Although her independent nature sorely tempted her to do so, Abigail would not relent. "Still," she said and smiled.
Calvin turned completely round, an impressive figure in the light of the sun from a nearby window. His dark hair shone like the wings of a raven and his eyes like the ocean. His expression was serious to the point of being grim as he moved back to the bathtub and squatted on his haunches beside where only a little of her legs were under the water.
She shifted.
"Abby, about last night ..."
"Are you referring to our accident?" She sincerely hoped he was as she lowered one arm, slipping it beneath the water as she reached for her unsightly knee.
"No." He rested his forearms along the side of the bathtub. "After."
"Calvin, you don't have to-"
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Abby." He spoke over her nervous words. "I just wanted to assure you again that I would do noth ing to dishonor you, and, though there might be a time when you doubt my intentions, I assure you I would never do anything to hurt you."
She blinked at that, quietly covering her knee with her open palm. `Why ever would I doubt you?"
His attention had been diverted by the sound of splashing water. His gaze took its time in traveling the length of her wet form, then halted above where she was spreading her fingers as far as they would go about her knee. "Does your leg hurt?"
"No," she said quickly. Her knuckles went white as she gripped her knee.
"What are you about?" He reached for her wrist, his long fingers circling it as if she were as dainty as a child.
"Calvin, don't." Abigail wasn't sure why she even bothered to fight his grip; he lifted her hand from her leg as if she hadn't done a thing to restrain him. His dark brows crumpled; his mouth became a blunt line as he gazed at her knee. "I wish you hadn't done that," she whispered, looking away.
"Abby ..." The hair at her nape rose on end as he ran his fingertips, so lightly she might have imagined it, across the thin line of one scar. "It must have been horrible for you."
"Others"-she thought of Bernice's husband, whose scars could not be hidden as easily as hers"have had it worse." Her eyes slowly drifted back to the man who was almost stroking the second scar beneath her kneecap. "It looks worse than it really was. "
Calvin smiled. "Liar."
Abigail's lips pursed. "If you are quite finished investigating my disfigurement, sir, I should like to finish with my bath."
He broke eye contact, watching his hand as it slipped above her knee and deeper into the water. His fingers glided smoothly across her inner thigh.
Abby sucked in her breath.
"I'm not quite finished, Lady Abigail." Calvin looked at her through his thick lashes.
"Calvin!" She brought her legs together, trapping his hand farther from her knees than the apex of her thighs.
"Yes?"
Abigail struggled with the calmness of his tone. "You're getting your shirt wet.
"
He appeared totally unconcerned that his sleeve was soaked up to the elbow. "It will dry." He lifted his free hand, brushed his knuckles across her heated cheek before pushing aside her hair to whisper against her ear, "Open." His fingers trapped under the water, tickling the underside of her legs, left no doubt as to what he was talking about.
"I don't think-"
She felt his hot breath against her cheek only a moment before Calvin covered her mouth with his. The remembered sensations of the night before came to life as if they had been dormant for moments instead of hours. A not-unfamiliar warmth spread throughout Abigail's body as Calvin parted her lips with his and sank his fingers into her hair.
It was he who broke away first, rough breathing fanning Abigail's face as her lashes lifted and her gaze met his. She realized that his kiss had stunned her, made her body dissolve almost lazily, and had given Calvin the leeway he needed to move his hand under the water to the core of her.
His gaze held hers, refusing her any respite against the heat of his stare as his fingers ever so slowly began to stroke. Abigail released a ragged gasp, one hand trembling to grip the side of the bathtub and the other reaching for the wet material of his shirt. As his fingers parted her beneath the water, hers gripped the material of his shirt so tightly the fabric nearly tore.
"Calvin?" It parted her lips as a whimper.
"Do not worry, love." He kissed her once, lingeringly, before letting his forehead rest against hers. "Let me touch you." And then his fingers found a very sensitive place between her legs.
Abigail's breathing stopped; her eyes squeezed closed. Tension radiated through her body from the place Calvin was now slowly circling with a single fingertip. Suddenly the water was much too hot, his touch more than she could bear. Even still, when she released his shirtsleeve to dig her fingertips into the sinew of his arm, it was not to push him away. She rocked her hips upward at the same time she pushed Calvin's hand against her.
He laughed in her hair, but it was not a sound of amusement at her expense. The sound was coarse, an odd mix of pleasure and pain.
"Lady Abby?"
She froze at the soft tap on her bedchamber door, felt Calvin do the same. Abigail's eyes flared wide, meeting his of smoky blue before they moved to the door.
"Abby?"
"Yes." She had to clear her throat when the word came out hoarse. "Margot?"
"I've your poultice wrap," the other woman called through the door.
"My what?"
"The wrap Mrs. Poole made." Margot's tone became perplexed. "For your leg."
"Shall I bring it in for you?"
"No!" Abigail winced at the escalated pitch of her voice. "Thank you, Margot, but I will come downstairs to read in a few moments. I'll put it on in the parlor."
"All right, then."
Abby sighed, avoiding Calvin's gaze.
"Are you feeling well, Abby?"
She gasped, certain the other woman had vacated the area before her door until she spoke again.
"You sound a bit shaky."
Abigail pressed her open palm against her forehead and took a deep breath. "I'm fine, Margot. I'll be down in a moment."
"All right," Margot said again, and this time Abby could hear her footsteps retreating from the door.
The sound of his hand in the water was loud as Calvin wrapped his fingers around her thigh. He gave her leg a gentle squeeze.
"You should go," she whispered.
He nodded and rose to his feet. Instead of moving toward the door, however, he reached for the towel that had been lying across the chair. Calvin held out a hand to Abigail.
Her nerves were much too frazzled for her to argue. She laced her fingers through his much larger ones and came to her feet. Painfully conscious of her nakedness in comparison to his fully clothed state, she avoided eye contact until she had wrapped the towel under her arms and across her breasts. Calvin's hands rested lightly around her hips as he waited until she finally lifted her lashes.
His gaze was fixed on her mouth, still swollen from his kiss of moments before. When he bowed his head, however, he did not brush her lips with his, but her still damp shoulder.
Abigail stood for a long moment beside the bathtub after Calvin had gone. Her skin slowly dried, and Harry curled up between her feet, and she continued to gaze in horror at the door the man had closed after him.
It had not been part of her plan. She had never imagined that an emotion beyond desire was what had backed her longing to be with Calvin. She had certainly never considered she might love the man.
Chapter 23
"Ah," Thomas Wolcott said with mock sorrow, "I had thought you possessed more staying power."
"I'm in London for the day." Calvin seated himself across the table from the other man. "I return to North Rutherford in the morning."
It was early in the afternoon, yet nearly every table at Justin's was occupied. Calvin wrapped his fingers around the dark tea the server had brought, eyeing the tables about theirs to make certain no one was close enough to overhear.
"I'm glad to know Abby has yet to frighten you away." Thomas was adding heaping spoonfuls of honey to his own tea as he spoke. "My sister puts on a great show of being strong, but she is just as delicate as any female."
Calvin gazed into the depths of his cup, the brew inside a shade of brown not unlike Abigail's eyes. "You underestimate her."
"You believe she is not delicate?"
Calvin made himself ignore the mental picture of Abigail in her bath, tendrils of damp hair clinging to her cheeks, holding his gaze in silent wonder as he gently stroked her. "I did not say that." He cleared his throat. "She took Raleigh's horse."
Thomas sputtered, almost choked on his tea. "What?"
"The man is a bastard. He was abusing the animal, and Abby could not stand it. She and the deceased Mr. Tuttleton secreted the mare away to a safe place."
"Bloody hell," Thomas breathed. His face had turned a shade of red at odds with his freckles and hair.
Calvin's jaw clenched. "Raleigh and a reprobate by the name of Dobbs-in the short time I've shared her company-have threatened Abby, caused her carriage to be in an accident"-his fingers went tight around his cup until his knuckles turned white-"and fired a bullet that grazed her ear."
`Jesus." Thomas put his cup atop the table with a loud bang. "I have to get her out of there at once.
"She won't go."
"She can stay with Jeanette and me."
"She won't go, Thomas. That is her home." Calvin shook his head. "If she will not retreat due to threats made on her person by men who care not if they do her real harm, what makes you think she will listen to you?"
"I am her brother. She is stubborn-"
"You have no idea."
"-but she will listen to reason, I'm sure."
"She is an intelligent female, and she listens to her heart. Her heart belongs to her home in the country, her friends and servants." His brows drew together at the last. Did Abby have any intention of opening her heart to a man that was part of her staff, her lover, and a liar?
"Then I will go to her," Thomas said. "Make certain she is safe."
"How will you explain the way you obtained your knowledge on the matter?"
"I shall have to tell her the truth."
"No!" Calvin said it with a roughness that startled the other man. He took a deep breath, not meeting his best friend's gaze. "You'll like as not upset her more than she deserves right now. I'll protect her. I'll take care of this."
"How?" Thomas signaled for a server, ordered a brandy.
"First, I shall have to get rid of the village magistrate. He's in Raleigh's pocket."
"How do you propose to do that, may I ask?"
"I have a plan. I'm meeting with my man of affairs later this evening to put it into play." Calvin scowled. "Men like Kin-sly leave a bad taste in my mouth. They're easily bought and sold like cattle and do the biddings of those who pay them like sheep."
"
Abby!"
In here, Margot." She had already set aside her account book when she heard the front door down the hall being thrown open. She was on her feet, moving across the room, when the other woman burst into the study.
"You should come quick, my lady." Margot was breathless, her hair frazzled as if it were an extension of her emotional state. "They're outside."
"Who?" Abby felt a heavy weight in her stomach.
"It's that awful Mr. Kingsly. He won't leave poor Timothy alone."
They stood just outside the stables, Timothy with his head bowed, his features unreadable, and Mr. Kingsly pointing at his chest. Abigail could hear the older man's raised voice from the moment she left the house.
"I think you're lying to me. I think you do know where it is!"
"What's going on?" Abigail's tone was strong, never hinting at the discomfort she felt. Her anger rose when Timothy lifted his chin, his dark eyes taking her in with undisguised relief. Abigail was rigid as she maneuvered herself between the two men, ignoring the ache in her knee at the abrupt movements.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Lady Wolcott"-Kingsly folded his arms across his chest"but your stableman here is a thief."
Margot gasped from where she had moved to wrap her meaty arms about one of Timothy's.
"No, Abby," Timothy said in a shaking tone that was heartbreaking.
"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life." Abigail lifted her chin, meeting Kingsly's mean little eyes.
"I have a witness who says he dropped his hunting rifle right outside your property, Lady Wolcott, and then he saw your man here going off with it later that day."
Her brows slowly drew together, awareness dawning. "Dobbs did not drop the weapon, Mr. Kin-sly. It was taken from him when he nearly shot my ear off. "
One Night To Be Sinful Page 17